[fic] Sweet Dreams
PG-13. drama, humor, sarcasm.
jongkey, slight onkey
“Maybe it isn’t what’s in the mirror right now that frightens you, but what you will be seeing in the future.”
Everything is white, the ceiling, the walls, the floor, his clothes – Kibum is frustrated.
He’s being pressed roughly against a bed, oh look, that’s also white, and then there’s a needle puncturing his skin.
“Fuck it all,” he grits out through blood stained teeth, and manages to spit some onto one of the doctor’s lab coat.
He can feel the doctor flinching in disgust, and Kibum takes the moment. His hand reaches out, but four other pairs of hands come crashing down onto him, and he’s drifting off into a deep sleep, body betraying him when his eyes close.
“Why am I here?”
The security guard raises an eyebrow at him, “you should ask yourself that.”
“Don’t talk to him,” another security guard frowns. “He’s class five.”
“Ouch, that bad? What did the kid do?”
“I can hear you!” Kibum states, loud and obnoxious.
The two security guards ignore him until they reach his new room and home.
“Can you take off the strait jacket now?” Kibum glares, “My arms are numb.”
The first security guard replies strictly, “We’re not allowed to do anything until we get authorization.”
As soon as it’s said, a shabby looking doctor enters the room, followed by five other nurses and doctors.
The moment the jacket is taken off, he lunges straight for the first security guard, grabbing onto his arm, and putting his fingers to his head.
One of the nurses scream, and the other security guard pushes him back.
It takes two doctors and the second security guard to retain Kibum, and the nurse injects the sedative as Kibum looks around drowsily.
“Hey man, you okay?” he can faintly hear the second security guard say.
The first stares up at him blankly, “…who are you?”
The doctor looks down at Kibum as the drug finally takes effect and he drops down unconscious.
It’s Kibum’s third day, and he’s successfully driven three scientists mentally insane, most likely killed one of them, and doctors see to it that Kibum and strait jackets get along very well. They’re almost best friends now.
He learns that the fourth ‘doctor’ attending to him is named Kim Jonghyun. He’s 20 years old, and a recent graduate with a medical degree from Yonsei University. Why people are so gullible to give out that type of info, he doesn’t know. But Kibum finally manages to get the strait jacket off with help from his teeth and a miracle. They’re going to have to start putting a muzzle on him if they want to stop him running around.
He’s been at it all day, running around trying not to meet this Kim Jonghyun. According to one of the nurses there’s four security guards, three nurses, and two doctors trying to hunt him down. He simply smiles and replies, “Game on.”
“Are you Kibum?”
“No, go away.”
“Oh. Well if you are, Jonghyun says you have to meet him in the library now.”
“Tell him I’m not coming.”
“So you are Kibum?”
Kibum looks up at the kid, glaring up at what seems to be a fifteen year old. He raises an eyebrow, and shuts his handheld mirror, looking up at him. “Who are you?”
“Taemin. You’re Kibum. And Jonghyun is looking for you.”
Kibum rolls his eyes, “You can tell Jonghyun that he go screw a – ”
“Taemin!” The two boys look to see one of the nurses down the hallway. “Taemin, it’s five twenty-eight! You only have two minutes.”
Kibum looks at the other boy, “Two minutes for what?”
He doesn’t get an answer because Taemin is already running down the hall with the nurse and Kibum just shrugs and looks down the other hallway to see the security guard looking for him. “Oh crap,” Kibum hisses, running down the third hallway.
Five minutes later, he’s back where he was before, and damn. Why is this place like a maze? No wonder nobody ever gets out.
His thoughts are interrupted by someone screaming in one of the rooms farther down the hall, and curiosity gets the best of him. He ends up seeing Taemin again, thrashing and screaming on the floor. There are nurses trying to grab his arms, but to no avail, he just shrieks even louder and kicks one of the chairs across the room. Kibum winces at the flurry of profanities that escapes the kid’s mouth, and soon enough, a doctor comes in with a tranquilizer.
After a minute so, Kibum runs out of the room in fear. There are no more sounds, and the silence freaks him out.
“So you’re a pyromaniac, and you have OCD?”
Taemin looks at the ground, playing with a thousand-piece puzzle, “Yup.”
“Sounds kinda contradictory to me.”
“You’re an oxymoron too. You can put in and take out memories of other people, yet you’d rather not remember the past yourself.”
Kibum frowns, “I guess that’s why we’re here, huh?” He receives a small nod from the younger kid and sighs, throwing a rock at the wall. He watches it break into tiny little pieces, Like my life, he muses.
“I hear footsteps,” Taemin frowns. Kibum looks at him, and Taemin frowns, “I think they’re still looking for you.”
Kibum rolls his eyes, “They really never give up, do they? C’mon Taemin, let’s go.” He grabs his hand and tugs, dragging him down the hallway.
Five minutes later they’re in the courtyard, looking at the gates that lead outside.
“What do you think is out there?”
Taemin frowns, “Trees, grass, rocks, more trees?”
Kibum sighs, “Do you remember what you were like before you came here?”
Taemin looks towards him, “No, not really. All I remember is…fire.”
“Oh,” Kibum mutters. “Well, I was the social kid. I was always out with friends shopping, flirting with girls, and just being a teenage kid. Now, I don’t even remember what my best friend’s voice sounded like.”
Taemin kicks the dirt, “Are you already losing yourself?”
Kibum stares, dumbfounded. “Am I already losing what?”
“Yourself,” he states. “Hyung, this place is scary. It’s a normal hospital, but before you know it, you don’t remember anything about yourself anymore. And then, when and if you are ever released, it’s hard to go back to society.”
Kibum doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say. Losing himself, Kibum wouldn’t dare. Surely he’ll get out of here in one piece, and one straight mind.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kibum settles with. “I can’t be forgetting myself this soon. You’re just paranoid, Taemin.” He smiles, patting Taemin head.
And then, as if a muscle suddenly twitches or jerks, Kibum’s fingers move to his temple, and a memory is inserted.
“Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”
This is the memory. This is one he hates. This is the one he wishes he could delete himself. He sees his mother screaming, going insane. “Who are you?” she shrieks, pointing at Kibum. The police are already trying to restrain her, but she screams even more, thrashing around and pointing towards the son she doesn’t remember.’’
“Taemin, Taemin. Oh no, I’m just gonna. No, wait. Taemin, are you okay? Don’t worry; it’s not your own memory. Stop standing there in shock, say something!”
He doesn’t get to talk to Taemin anymore, because the security guard sees him freaking out, and he’s dragged back to his own room, Jonghyun having left the room ten minutes ago.
“Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the craziest one of all?”
He stares into the piece of polished glass, and there’s only an empty replica staring back at him.
“That’s what I thought,” he frowns, turning away from the looking glass, and to the white wall behind him. There’s nothing particularly interesting in this new room they placed him in; the most intriguing thing that’s happened today was his encounter with Taemin.
He thought of Taemin, and of what the poor child was thinking of at the piece of memory he had accidently slipped into his mind. Maybe he would think too much about it and go delusional. “Like everyone else,” he mutters, glancing down at his nails, and up again to the monochromatic wall.
“I want a pencil,” he tells the wall, and then smiles – that’s the first thought today that hasn’t made him aggravated. And he really did want a pencil.
Kibum sits in the interrogation room, staring out the window as doctors, nurses, scientists, and patients walk by. Few people bother to look in through the window, and those that do don’t bother looking for too long. It’s a lonely place, Kibum frowns, and he turns back down to the handcuffs enveloping his wrists.
A minute later, the door behind him opens, and a doctor steps out of it. He raises an eyebrow at the newcomer. He’s not your typical old scientist who looks like he studies passionately every day. He’s almost as young as Kibum – just a little older. His hair is a blonde-to-brown gradient, and spiked up at the top. The doctor looks like someone you’d meet in a nightclub, not a special hospital. The only thing that slightly resembles a doctor would be the white lab coat.
“Hello Kibum, my name is Kim Jonghyun, you can just call me Jonghyun.”
Jonghyun walks towards the desk and sets a camera down, on which the red recording light is already set on, and he takes a seat in the chair across from Kibum.
“Is that for your memories?”
Jonghyun laughs, “No, records. But it could always act as a backup for my memories, just in case.”
Kibum frowns, “You trust me that much?”
“Actually, no I don’t. But, duty calls.”
Kibum stares at him, is this doctor retarded? The last three doctors who tried to talk to him were careful about anything and everything they said, and even wore a mask and gloves to make sure there was no skin exposure he could get at. “You’re weird,” he states simply, waiting for Jonghyun’s facial expression to break.
He laughs, “Really? I’m surprised to see that I’m hearing this from someone stuck in a hospital.”
Kibum’s jaw drops. “Are you even allowed to say that to a patient?”
The doctor’s smile brightens, “Well, I’ll be seeing you three hundred sixty five days a year if this goes well, so why not start a loving relationship now? I’ll bring you a box of chocolates next time too.”
“I really don’t like yo-”
“So!” Jonghyun continues to grin, “I’ll be asking a bunch of questions, and you my friend, will be answering. Simple enough? Yeah, simple enough. Good!”
Key clenches his teeth in frustration.
“Did you, Kim Kibum, kill your parents at the age of ten?”
He swallows, and answers firmly. “No, I didn’t.”
“Really,” Jonghyun nods to himself, “then how did-”
“I was eleven,” He states, staring Jonghyun in the eye.
Jonghyun takes no notice of Kibum’s glare fest and nods again, “Alright. And do you, Kim Kibum, have the ability to insert and delete memories from someone’s mind?”
“How do you do it?”
Kibum swallows again, now Jonghyun’s grin is gone, and he’s looking at him intently, waiting. “I need to touch their skin.”
“That’s it. It’s like moving a finger, or waving an arm up and down. You just do it.”
“I see. Do you have to touch them with your hand?”
“It can’t be your foot, or elbow, or arm?”
“Can you kick someone with a hand?”
“Point taken.” Jonghyun smiles again, “Oh, and you do know why you’re here, right?”
“Killing seven people, and causing five to go mentally insane? Yeah.”
“You’re funny,” Jonghyun comments, and then looks at his watch. “Okay, well. I only had five minutes to do this anyways, so we’re done. I’ll be dropping by your room every day, and just about every six hours or something. You’re gonna hate me by the end of tomorrow.”
“It’s already starting,” Kibum mumbles.
“I’m glad we’re getting along.” Jonghyun replies, and opens the door for Kibum. “Bye bye.”
Jonghyun drops by his room so much that Kibum wants to pull his hair out and shove it in Jonghyun's mouth, disturbing as that is. But then he looks at the mirror, and Stay classy Kibum, stay classy.
“Kibum, did you eat yet? You should eat, I heard they have-”
“Yes I ate, yes I took a shower, no I didn't kill myself yet, no I'm not going to talk to you about that. Any more questions?” Kibum puts his fingers to his temples, massaging the skin. This person talks way too much!
Jonghyun laughs, “Actually, yeah. Do you want to go out?”
“What, go out? Please specify.”
“Into town,” Jonghyun simply states.
He flashes Jonghyun that look, “Are you allowed to do that?”
Jonghyun gives a meek smile in return, “Not really, but what they don’t know won’t hurt them. Besides, I’ll make up an elaborate story on how it was all an experiment to see how you would react to the outer world after being confined for x amount of time.”
Kibum stares at him, horrified. “How did you pass second grade.”
He laughs, “What, do I look like a studious guy to you?”
“L-let’s just go.”
They exit through the back entrance, and Kibum sits in the back of Jonghyun’s rather high class BMW.
“How did you pay for this?”
“I work here, Kibum. Come on, who wants to work in this type of place and only get the average two hundred fifty thousand dollars a year?” Jonghyun grins, “Oh, we’re here.”
It’s the downtown part of the city, with shops lining the roads, “Technically you’re not allowed to buy clothes, but I really don’t care, so go crazy. I‘m buying everything anyways.”
Kibum’s face brightens up like a kid opening presents on Christmas. “Let’s go there first,” he grins, pulling on Jonghyun’s wrist. “Come on, come on! Why are you so slow?”
The first store they enter, in ten minutes Kibum is already in the fitting room with a crazy amount of clothes.
“How does this look Jonghyun?”
“You look kinda fat.”
I mean - it accentuates your curves? What the hell am I supposed to say?”
“Accentuating curves works,” Kibum smiles as he looks in the mirror, pulling at the hem of his obnoxiously lime green and pink shirt.
Jonghyun raises an eyebrow, “Can I also put that you have Gender Identity Disorder in your profile?”
Kibum looks at him through the mirror, “Do you want to put every single mental disorder possible in my profile?”
Jonghyun simply flashes him a grin, “I try my best.”
After spending a good three hours shopping and eating, and shopping again, Jonghyun ruins the fun, saying that it was getting dark and that they had to go back.
They manage to grab a pack of pencils - the top of Kibum’s most wanted list, and he returns to his room satisfied with his stash of clothes and accessories.
“Kibum, be serious. The way I talk shouldn’t bother you.”
“Well it does,” Kibum crosses his arms.
“I’m sorry, you’ll have to get used to it. It’s just gonna be you and I for a long time,” Jonghyun rolls his eyes. “Could you please answer the question, Kibum?”
“Do you always sit slouched like that? It’s really bad for your posture you know. And god, you’re always drinking coffee. Your teeth will get yellow.”
“It’s green tea, actually.”
“Oh. Well, as I was saying, I wouldn’t really–ugh, can you seriously fix your posture!”
Jonghyun raises an eyebrow at him, “Do you have OCD? ‘Cause I really think you have OCD. I can always put that into your record too, y’know.”
“So is that a yes, you do have OCD?” Jonghyun chuckles, and Kibum glares at him.
“That would be a no, I don’t, so there is no reason to put that in my profile.”
“Hm, alright then.” Jonghyun frowns, taking a sip of his tea. “You wanna know what I think?”
“No, I don’t want to know what you think.”
“Oh,” Jonghyun sighs, “Well, that’s just too bad. You’re going to have to listen anyways.”
Kibum rolls his eyes, and looks at Jonghyun, “So what would you like me to listen to?”
Jonghyun puts the mug down, and leans forward in his chair, looking Kibum in the eye. “You take this place too simply, don’t you?”
Jonghyun smiles, and for the first time since Kibum’s entered the hospital, he’s scared. The smile is sarcastic, sadistic, and it’s sneering at him. “You haven’t fully grasped the concept of why you’re here yet.”
Kibum stares at him, “What are you talking about?”
“Kibum, this isn’t a regular jail, or a hospital. It’s not a mental institution either. It’s a combination of all three. Why do you think we haven’t gotten anywhere yet?”
Kibum stares at him, fists clenching and unclenching as he grits his teeth.
“No answer? Okay. Well, Kibum. Your opinion first. How many moral and ethical human rights and laws have you think you’ve broken?”
“A lot,” Kibum says, trying hard not to be unfazed. He’s just a doctor, he repeats silently in his head. He’s just a doctor, he’s just a doctor, he’s just a doctor…
“Oh good,” Jonghyun replies, “You’re not completely ignorant.”
Kibum grits his teeth, “Okay then, doctor. I don’t know. Would you like to explain to me?”
Jonghyun looks at him, “Actually, I believe you’ll be doing the explaining. Kibum, I need to know more information. About everything, your clone, how your family died, your life story.”
It’s a down day for Kibum, Jonghyun asking about touchy stuff in his self-proclaimed ‘interrogation session’. He sits on the bed, staring at the same white wall he hates.
This time though, he’s finally learned how to take out his anger and annoyance by writing comments on the wall, filling it up with rude and nasty comments on anything and everything he can get.
The first time Jonghyun saw it, he doesn’t question nor look at it for too long. He just smiles and states, “I see you’re using your time wisely” - clearly sarcasm, with an edge that says ‘The more you write, the longer you stay here’. Kibum doesn’t care though, as long as he’s concerned, he’s never going to get out of this place.
He falls back on his bed, looking up at the ceiling.
Taemin’s being released today, he reminds himself. He’s already tackled the kid yesterday, screaming about how proud he was. He’s not really happy anymore, jealousy and envy filling the pit of affection he had for the boy.
“Kibum, can I come in?” a voice calls, and he looks over at the door.
“Sure,” Kibum frowns. It’s Jonghyun again, this being the third time he’s seen Kibum today.
Jonghyun opens the door, walking towards Kibum and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I scheduled you to get an MRI tonight.”
Kibum raises an eyebrow, “Why?”
Jonghyun grins, “Because I still believe you have every single mental disorder known to mankind.” Kibum’s too down low to even give a proper response. Jonghyun sighs, “I want to see if there’s a difference in the structure of the cells in your brain and hands as opposed to a regular person.”
“I assure you,” Kibum says, “there is nothing different.”
Jonghyun nods, “That’s wonderful, but I’m going to have to ask you some questions before we do it. I actually know everything, but just in case. Do you have any tattoos?”
“Have you ever had metal rods or any type of surgery that required having something of the sort put in you?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had surgery.”
Jonghyun nods, “Alright, I have everything else. I’m going to be at your room at seven. You are to wear no metal at all, unless you want to die by the magnetic field. It’s happened here two times. Someone forgot to take off their watch and… let’s not go any further.”
Kibum winces at the mental image.
“I’m going now, so two hours, be ready. No metal, preferably no glass, we’ll probably make you take that off too. If you have a belt on, you should take that off. I don’t think you have a belt, and if you do, I don’t know where you got that from and would need to talk to you about that.” Jonghyun finishes and heads for the door, glancing at the wall.
“You didn’t add anything,” Jonghyun states, staring at the comments written. “It looks the same as last time.”
“I was going to write something before you came.”
“Oh,” Jonghyun sounds deflated. “Well, have fun.”
Kibum smiles sarcastically at him, “Don’t worry, I will.”
“Here are the pictures from last night,” Jonghyun frowns, pointing at the board.
Kibum raises an eyebrow, “Really? It doesn’t seem…”
“Well, it is.” Jonghyun smiles, “That would be your brain.”
“Ew,” Kibum frowns.
“This,” Jonghyun points to another picture, “is the normal human brain. Can you see the difference?”
Kibum squints, comparing the two pictures. “No. Can you see a difference?”
Jonghyun groans, sliding back down his chair, “No, I can’t.”
“Why does that upset you, shouldn’t that be a good thing? My brain is normal.”
“It should, but if it were different, we could find a way to surgically change it to function like a normal person, and then you could leave this place.”
“Did you see the hands?”
“There’s nothing different in those two, there’s even a couple of my colleagues looking those over right now as we speak.” Jonghyun takes a gulp of his drink, and grabs his clipboard, flipping through a few pages. “I’ll just ask you some questions, then. If something catches your eye, please do tell. First question – how many people have you deleted memories from?”
Kibum frowns, “Well. It really wasn’t like, for a special cause at first. When I first discovered I could do stuff like that, I just deleted the smallest things. Y’know, like if I did something embarrassing. If I got rejected by a girl – though that really didn’t happen much.”
Jonghyun chuckled, “Ooh, so you’re a ladies’ man? We do have something in common.”
“What a showoff,” Kibum teases, taking the chance to steal Jonghyun’s thermos off the table. Jonghyun whines, flailing as he tries to get it back. Kibum simply pushes him away and drinks from the bottle.
“That’s mine! You better not be like, sick or something.”
“I’m not,” Kibum frowns, swatting Jonghyun’s hand away. “Just let me drink a little, you have this everyday! All I get is carbonated water, and that’s on a special occasion! I usually just get water. I mean, it’s good for your skin and all but water for every meal? Water, water, water! They don’t even have juice or something.”
Jonghyun pouts, “You could’ve just told me you know. I’ll bring you some next time.”
“Well you don’t have it now, so I want to share.”
“Fine,” Jonghyun sighs in defeat. After pausing a moment, he frowns, “We got way off topic. Okay! Next question – when did the deleting memories part become such a big problem?”
Kibum stops drinking Jonghyun’s tea, setting it on the table. “That…was because of my mother. She really wasn’t your average caring mother. She had lots of affairs and stuff, but my dad was a fool, and loved her too much. But y’know – your wife is cheating on you, you have to come back to reality sometime. I was only like what, eleven? I figured if I deleted all the moments he caught her cheating, he wouldn’t be so sad.”
“That’s where it all went downhill?”
“Yeah. Apparently he didn’t really have much of anything else, so he lost like what, five whole years of him and his wife? So then I tried to fix it, but then that backfired.”
Jonghyun leans forward, looking Kibum in the eye, “You tried to fix it?”
Kibum bit his bottom lip, “The inserting memories thing. I tried to insert the memories back. But I can’t insert his memories, I can only insert mine. So the only replacement memories he had of my mom were from an eleven year old’s point of view. After that he just went crazy.”
Jonghyun nodded, “Alright. Do you think that’s enough for today? I think that’s enough for today. The next topic I want to go into is a little touchy, so I think I’ll leave that off for some other day.”
Raising an eyebrow, Kibum shakes his head, “I think I can handle it.”
“Really?” Jonghyun glances down at the clipboard, and back up to Kibum. “To be quite honest, I don’t think you can. We’ll stop here today.”
Kibum argues, “Why? At least tell me, so I can like. Mentally prepare myself or something!”
Jonghyun gets up and grabs his thermos getting ready to head out.
“It’s about Lee Jinki.”
It’s been almost three weeks, and Kibum refuses to give Jonghyun any valuable information regarding Lee Jinki, or in Kibum’s term, Onew.
The only information he could squeeze out of him was that his fake name was Onew, and that he was formerly his best friend.
Jonghyun couldn’t figure out why someone would do that to their best friend. It was the next closest thing to murder.
“I really don’t get it. Kibum, just spill it, will you?”
“No,” Kibum replies darkly, facing the wall as Jonghyun sighs.
“Ooh, so now we’re using ‘big’ words are we? Am I that retarded simple words can’t even state how you feel about me?”
“You’re so intelligent Kibum, really.”
“Why thank you.”
“You’re going to make me agree with your past statement.”
“Kibum, if you keep up the silent treatment I’m gonna get nowhere. If I don’t get anywhere, you’re not getting anywhere, and therefore we won’t be getting anywhere and that is a bad thing. ‘Cause if we’re not getting anywhere, you’re not getting out of here.”
Kibum stares at him like a deer in headlights, “What the fuck did you just say.”
“Just answer the question Kibum. Did you do it?”
Kibum glares at him, and Jonghyun sighs again. “What kind of kid were you in school? Were you like, that scene kid that glared at the teacher from the back of the classroom? Because that’s exactly how I feel right now. The teacher, being glared at. Y’know.”
“I really, really don’t like talking about Onew,” Kibum frowns. “Can we just skip to another topic? Really. Let’s just save him for last, for my sake?”
“He is last. After I figure out everything, I sit by myself for a long time, piece together everything, try to come up with a proper symptom for you, and then I sit with my colleagues and try to think of decent therapy sessions to try to get you back to normal. And since I love you oh-so-much, I’m also trying to find a way for you to not have that memory power thing anymore.”
“But I like my memory power thing.”
“Civilization clearly doesn’t,” Jonghyun smiles.
Jonghyun groans into his clipboard of wisdom and knowledge that far surpasses his own blankly. “What am I going to do with you Kibum? Just say something.”
“I refuse to talk about Onew,” Kibum states firmly.
“There’s nothing else to talk about.” Jonghyun mentally cries as Kibum takes his mug of bubble tea before he can reach it himself.
Kibum smiles at him, “Fine, let’s not talk about me then. We talk about me too much, I don’t me like that, you know?”
Jonghyun rolls his eyes, “What would you like to know? The prime minister of Pakistan died yesterday; I think he was shot. Um, some scientists believe that they may have gotten a proper vaccine for H1N1. Oh, astronauts launched another spaceship that’s supposed to be heading to Mars. I think the spaceship was called Gamma2190?”
“That’s not interesting.”
“I’m sorry to have burst your bubble of amazing. But can you please just talk about him? It shouldn’t be that hard.”
“It took you almost a whole month to find out his name is Onew, how hard do you think it is?”
“His real name is Lee Jinki. It wouldn’t be as hard if you just chose to cooperate!” Jonghyun’s voice almost raises an octave in desperation and anger, Kibum stares at him with wide eyes.
“What – ”
“You know what?” Jonghyun smiles sarcastically. “We aren’t going anywhere. Again. It’s been almost three months Kibum, did you realize that? Thanks my awesome clipboard of knowledge and wonder and notes I’ve taken over the past year since you’ve been here, I can conclude we’re not going to get anywhere today either. I’m ending the session here.” He gets up abruptly and snatches his mug out of Kibum’s hands, pushing his chair into his desk. “Think about yourself and where you are, Kibum. It isn’t The End, not yet.”
Jonghyun quickly steps out of the room, doesn’t turn around once, and the security guards come in to take him back to his room the instant Jonghyun walked out.
“Well, I’ve got almost all the information I need,” Jonghyun says all happy with smiles and butterflies and bubbles of sunshine that pop to form sparkles surrounding him one day. Kibum puts his hand in front of his face; he can almost see a rainbow behind all the sparkles bedazzling him.
“You scare me.”
“I love you too,” Jonghyun grins. “Now, you see, this is why the police are handy. God, they didn’t throw out things from centuries ago! And oh, we raided your old house. You write a diary? That’s so cute.”
Kibum’s eyes widen as he glares at him, “You didn’t, bastard.”
“I did, and it’s right here,” Jonghyun smiles, taking out a flowery pink notebook with a broken lock hanging.
“So that’s where you’ve been this past week.”
“Ooh, someone’s smarter than a fifth grader,” Jonghyun replies sarcastically as he turns a page on his clipboard.
“I hate that clipboard.”
Jonghyun pouts, looking down. “Aw, no he didn’t mean it. Don’t cry.” He looks up, “It’s sad now.”
Jonghyun sighs again, “Okay, well. You can play Twenty Questions, right?”
Jonghyun fake sniffles, “I’m so proud of you. Well, I’m going to ask questions, and you can only answer with yes or no. Understand?”
“Yes or no, Kibum.”
“Wonderful! Question one, Lee Jinki was your close friend, am I correct?”
“Merely a week after the incident with your father, he got into a car accident, and he was in a coma for approximately five months.”
“Those weren’t questions, but okay. Did he get amnesia?”
“Did you feel the need to insert your own memories into him while you were a little over the edge one day?”
“I didn’t –”
“Yes or no, Kibum.”
“I refuse to answer this,” Kibum glares, fists balling up.
“I guess that’s fair enough,” Jonghyun shrugs. “Did you clone yourself into Lee Jinki, and rename him Onew? And then to avoid suspicion, you gave yourself the code name Key?”
“I want to leave,” Kibum chokes, and Jonghyun finally notices the tears threatening to fall.
Shit, Jonghyun’s brain finally computes. Shit, I went too far. Jonghyun regains his posture, and replies professionally, “Oh, well. I guess that’s enough pressure for today. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow isn’t the best day for Kibum and Jonghyun.
“Kibum, I need to know. Did you or did you not create a—”
“Fuck off!” Kibum screeches, “Why do you care? Why are you even here! I’m just a danger to society, aren’t I? So nothing matters! I’m locked here, and that’s the end.”
Jonghyun tries to reason, “You’re not listening to me, Kibum. Calm down, we just need to know if—”
Kibum kicks the chair and watches it slam into the wall, chest heaving up and down. “Calm down?” He laughs. “You’re funny, you know that?”
Jonghyun watches Kibum’s hands tremble. Cold sweat, bloodshot eyes. He’s really lost it. Jonghyun doesn’t say anything, just watches.
“You’re fucking hilarious!” Kibum shrieks, pushing the desk over. “You’re asking me about my dead best friend, and I’m supposed to be calm?”
Jonghyun mentally sighs. Well, he’s already over the edge, let’s just push… “Calm or not, I need to know Kibum.”
Kibum stares at him, “Yes, I made a clone! No, I didn’t know what to do when his memories returned! Yes, dammit! Yes, yes, yes! I KILLED ONEW, JINKI, WHATEVER HIS NAME IS. I don’t even remember anymore!”
Kibum clenches his teeth, grabbing Jonghyun’s shirt. “Are you happy now, Kim Jonghyun?”
“You still haven’t answered why,” Jonghyun informs him dully.
Kibum growls, “You’re kidding me. You have got to be. After–”
“You gonna explain?”
Kibum punches him in the jaw, “You bastard! You have no feelings, do you?”
Jonghyun merely looks up at him, blood trailing down his lip, “I’m sorry to disappoint.”
Another punch. “I can’t believe you.” Kibum pushes him off the chair.
“Hold back or I’m going to have to tranquilize you Kibum,” Jonghyun warns, walking back slowly.
“Right, because I totally care now, right!” Kibum yells, kicking Jonghyun’s chair. The back of it hits Jonghyun in the stomach, and he kneels over, gasping for breath.
Jonghyun leans against the wall for support, getting up with heavy breaths, and walks to the intercom. Pressing the button, he grits out, “Somebody get a sedative right now and stop Kibum. I need a tranquilizer, right now.”
“Are you done playing games with my emotions Jonghyun?” Kibum hisses. “Done with learning about my past and using it against me?”
He walks over and grabs Jonghyun’s collar again, “Done messing with my brain?”
Jonghyun clenches his teeth, and finally hits back. Kibum falls over, shocked. Jonghyun smirks, wiping some of the blood off his jaw with the back of his hand. “Sorry kid, not yet.”
Kibum screams, launching himself onto Jonghyun who falls back. He hits whatever he can see as Jonghyun pushes him off, getting back up. The moment Kibum is on his feet, Jonghyun punches him in the gut, and Kibum keels over. Jonghyun presses the intercom again.
“Where the hell is that sedati – oh shit!” Jonghyun curses, Kibum slams his head into the wall a second time. Spinning around, Jonghyun kicks Kibum in the stomach again and watches him double over, writhing in pain.
Kibum and Jonghyun both look when the doors open, and a military officer comes in with a familiar gun. Kibum growls and aims for Jonghyun again, the latter now trying to hold him down.
Kibum head butts Jonghyun in a blind rage, but he’s the first to lose consciousness.
Kibum isn’t very happy the next time Jonghyun sees him. He growls at Jonghyun, struggling to escape from the strait jacket.
Jonghyun stares at him for a second before turning to a security guard, “You really don’t have to be here.”
Jonghyun stares at him darkly, “That means leave.”
The guard shuffles hesitantly before scurrying out of room, frightened.
“You took care of him nicely.”
“Now it’s your turn,” Jonghyun smiles. “So, last week kinda sucked, I think we can both agree on that. Can I still trust you not to try to rip my teeth out and shove it down my throat?”
“That depends if you still act like a douche bag.” Kibum rolls his eyes, avoiding Jonghyun’s look. “Fine.”
“Good,” Jonghyun smiles, untying the back of the jacket, and finally getting it off. “Okay, are we ready to talk now? We have the rest of your life to do this Kibum; you might as well say it now.”
Jonghyun frowns, sliding back into his chair, “So let me get this straight – Jinki was your best friend. When your father had his accident, a week later Jinki got into a major car crash. Then it ends up he’s in a coma for five months. When he finally awakens, he has amnesia. The doctor says there is absolutely no possible way of getting his memories back, so you decide to take it upon yourself to put your own memories in him.”
Kibum shifts in his chair, “I honestly wouldn’t put it like–”
“I’m not done yet,” Jonghyun replies strictly. “So then, after you put your memories in him, you two are kind of shunned – understandable, really. But you guys are like a pair now, and because of the incident, you decide to rename yourself; Key and Onew. However, after some time Jinki actually gets his memories back. By then he’s mentally dysfunctional, and there’s really no choice but to get rid of him.”
“I dislike that terminology – getting rid of him.”
“I dislike your face,” Jonghyun retorts. “So. Then you decide that the whole world would just be safer if you disposed of hi – I don’t care if you don’t like the wording Kibum, anyways, you do kill him. After you’ve killed him, you failed to realize you broke one of the world’s biggest ethics and morals. Am I right?”
“Well, if you’re going to put it so bluntly like that, then yes.”
Jonghyun blows out a puff of air, spinning in his chair. “You know, I’m getting all this information Kibum, but it’s really not giving me a proper sight on why you would do this. I need like, your exact feelings from back then.”
Kibum is silent for a while, thinking about everything. Jonghyun waits impatiently, and Kibum looks up at him. “Would you like me to show you?”
Jonghyun looks up, alarmed. Kibum is already standing up, taking three steps towards him.
“Kibum, I really discourage doing that. Do you seriously want to–”
His hands are on the sides of Jonghyun’s face, “I’d rather not speak. I’d rather you not speak as well.”
“Are you serio–”
His lips are planted on Jonghyun’s, moving fiercely, passionately, and Jonghyun let out a low moan. Burying his hands in Kibum’s hair, he responds back to Kibum’s tongue being shoved down his throat.
“Kib – ugh,” Jonghyun’s eyes roll to the back of his head, white spots blinding his vision.
That’s when he finally notices Kibum’s fingers at his temple, and his eyes widen one more time before he plunges into Kibum’s world.
Kibum shuts his eyes, trying to sink into the vicinity of his room, relishing in the few moments he has before security takes him down to the interrogation room. His heart still pounds at their last moments together, and it wavers as he glances up, breath hitching at the huge bold ‘KEY LOVES ONEW’ in huge letters among the other ambiguous notes that have been graffitied. He continues to stare at the wall, reading all the comments he’s written in pure anger, eyes finally landing to the pencil on the floor. He gets up, etching his most overused quote, ‘Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the craziest one of all’. Kibum smiles, looking at the quote he’s repeated one too many times. Afterwards, he flops back down on the bed and stares up to the ceiling.
Five, ten, fifteen minutes pass, and Kibum can’t help wondering when his interrogation session will be. Was it moved? Kibum sighs; maybe Jonghyun is too scared to show his face after that incident. Or maybe he has enough information to conclude how big of a psychopath he really is, and they don’t need to meet anymore. Perhaps they would just chuck him into a plane headed to Japan, and Jonghyun would watch as the scientists disassembled Kibum’s body – purely for ‘research’. It’s always research.
After five more minutes, Kibum goes to the door, clicking the speak button. “Hello? This is Kibum, patient number 613, in sector 5. Was my interrogation session with Jonghyun cancelled?”
He waits a moment, and a guard answers him back, “Yeah. You have free days for the rest of the week.”
The guard answered thoroughly annoyed, “Like I would know. Do whatever.”
Kibum rolls his eyes going back to the pencil and continues to vandalize the wall, smiling as he writes each comment. ‘Stupid white lab coat. He looks like he belongs in a nightclub with that hair; instead he’s being a doctor at a mental hospital. Was he that unlucky at college? He doesn’t even look safe. Plus he’s a coward. One awkward moment and he ran away…’
He continues writing random comments, indulging in his own world for a couple more hours.
Kibum stares at the mirror, glaring at his reflection – through the messed up bangs, deep eyebags, and the lack of proper nutrition, all eating away at him. Eating away at the real Kibum.
The place was insane. It was madness. Everything here was fucked up. Nothing made sense. What the hell was this place supposed to do to him? It just kept him away from society.
This was the end for him. There would be nothing after this place. He would probably die here. Sessions with the doctor, sessions with Jonghyun. They were all plain lies, weren’t they? Something to just keep him alive for the moment, something to look forward to.
He was tired of it. Kibum was tired of talking for half an hour every day. He was tired of Jonghyun checking up on him every couple hours. He was tired of writing meaningless comments about meaningless people on his wall every day. He was tired of believing those blatant lies, tired of staring at the same mirror every day, saying the same words to himself. He was tired of those words that were the only truth.
Kibum was tired of seeing an empty figure in the mirror. He was tired of not seeing himself.
He stares at the mirror once more, “What the hell do you want from me?” He growls at it. “You’ve already taken everything from me, what more do you want? My life? You own it!” Kibum shakes his head incoherently, anger plaguing at him like a contagious disease, taking his life apart one by one. “I hate you!” He shrieks, punching the mirror, watching the blood trick down his knuckles. “I fucking hate you! I wish you would go die, and leave me alone! Why are you even here? I don’t want to see your face anymore!” He punches is twice, thrice, until his fist is all bruised and bleeding, tears blurring his vision. “Get out of my life!” he screams once more, taking the mirror and throwing it at the wall.
It breaks into millions of pieces, and the sound of it crashing into the wall is somewhat calming, but the rage had already spread throughout him. He takes the pencil on the desk and stabs the wall, trying to scrape in the words ‘I HATE YOU’, but the pencil tip has already broke, and Kibum’s already past oblivion to notice anything that seems even slightly coherent.
He drops to his knees, scooping up the broken glass, ignoring the surging pain that stabs at his hands as he throws the tiny pieces at the wall, across the room, anywhere. They make his legs, arms, and hands bleed, but Kibum doesn’t care. Not anymore. He drops down onto the ground, finally shrieking at the pain of glass shards piercing his neck and back.
“You’re fucking insane,” Jonghyun stares at Kibum in disbelief.
“I hate this place,” Kibum retorts, staring at the wall opposite of Jonghyun.
“I don’t care if you hate this place, but Kibum. God damn, I didn’t think you were suicidal.”
Kibum’s head snaps towards him, and he hisses, “I am not suicidal. This place is just messed up as hell.”
“That would be your fault,” Jonghyun sighs. “Want to take a look at the bright side?”
Kibum laughs sarcastically, “Bright side? There’s a bright side to a mental institute? That’s fucking hilarious Jonghyun, really.”
“What, I’m not a positive aspect to this place?”
“God, you’re the reason I wanted to kill myself.”
“So you are suicidal.”
“Will you just go hang yourself over the Amazon? You are not making my day.”
Jonghyun clenches his fists, “Can I put in your profile that you have mental retardation? I really want to put that in your profile. You break your arm, almost cut the carotid artery in your neck, had to have surgery to get the glass shards out of your body, and I’m the one not making your day?”
“Can I just be alone, please?” Kibum tries to ignore Jonghyun’s sudden rush of anger. He doesn’t want to deal with anything.
“No, you can’t be alone!” Jonghyun practically screams.
Kibum snaps his head towards him, “And why not? I want to be alone, now get out!”
“No,” Jonghyun repeats firmly. “Dammit Kibum, do you know how worried I was? Did you even once stop to think to how I would react? I cancelled five sessions with patients today to sit outside the operation room, waiting for you!”
Kibum screams, “And why the hell would you do that? Did I ask for you to watch out for me? No, I didn’t! So why would you bother?”
Jonghyun bites his lip, trying not to lash out or say anything dangerous, so instead he opts for clenching his teeth and growling. “Oh. Okay then, fine. You can spend the rest of the day in your preferred solitude.”
Kibum watches Jonghyun walk out of the room quickly, and suddenly he wants to beat himself with a stick. Grabbing a pillow, he stuffs it into his face and screams as loudly as he possibly can, attempting to be heard through being muffled.
We've been looking over your records with Kibum," one of the chairmen states, and Jonghyun raises an eyebrow.
"Well of course. The need to tell me this was because..."
A couple of the doctors look to each other uneasily, and Jonghyun blinks. Someone clears their throat, and Jonghyun frowns to see Minho staring at him with a sympathetic look. "What?" he mouths, and Minho simply shakes his head, looking away.
"So, Jonghyun. You're a very talented psychologist, we realize."
"However, your patient, Kim Kibum, as I said before, we've looked over your records with him, and judging by everything, we've decided that Kibum is too mentally unstable to be released into current society."
Jonghyun nods slowly, "I understand that, and I've concluded that myself, so why are we all here?"
The chairman sighs, "We've also looked over all the research you've been doing on Kibum, and as you may know, it's not exactly getting anywhere."
Jonghyun retorts, "Well of course! His power is a new subject, and no one has ever seen anything like it. It's only been two years!"
"I understand, Jonghyun," he sighs, "However, time is something we really don't have. Also, all the doctors and scientists here in this room have discussed, and we've come to a decision."
Jonghyun rolls his eyes, "And your decision?"
"We've come to the conclusion that Kibum will be put to sleep."
His eyes widen, and Jonghyun instantly jumps out of his seat, "What? That's ridiculous!" Two of the other doctors jump up, and one of them starts to explain.
"Jonghyun, please understand what we're doing. In two years you have gotten close to no information on his ability. We don't even have a proper outlook on how his motor abilities are with this."
Jonghyun glares at him, "You think I haven't tried? Proper outlook, what proper outlook? That's why it's so difficult. He functions like a normal human. Everything! Emotions, motor skills, thought process, brain patterns. If he had an extra limb or something, that'd be helpful. But he's exactly the same."
"The committee has decided, there's no changing it now. We already have a da-"
"The committee has not decided, because I am a part of this committee, and I say this is absurd!" Jonghyun clenches his teeth, staring at anyone and everyone who tries to reply.
The chairman simply shakes his head, "September twenty-third, Jonghyun."
"I refuse to let you kill my patient!" Jonghyun shrieks, and a couple of scientists jump up in fright. "and on his birthday? What kind of cruel people are you!"
"Jonghyun, it's settled. Every single person in this room has agreed to it. Even if you don't agree, the majority clearly wins."
Jonghyun stares at everybody dumbfounded, then stalks out of the room, slamming the door.
Kibum stares at him, awestruck, as Jonghyun throws a bouncy ball at the wall in a fit of rage.
"They're going to kill me? Why did you say anything!"
Jonghyun glances over to him, and chucks the ball at the wall again, "You don't think." thump. "That I didn't." thump. "Try to stop them?" thump. He stops throwing it for a moment to turn towards Kibum, "You've got to be kidding me. Do you not know me as well as I thought you did? Kibum, I screamed at the chairman. I'm lucky I didn't lose my job!"
"Oh," Kibum puts his hands on his hips, "So losing your job is more important than me losing my life! Thanks Jonghyun, best friends forever."
Jonghyun turns back to the wall, bouncy ball in hand, "Did you not just listen to what I said? Kibum, there's only so much I can do. I screamed in front of the whole committee, you're lucky I even had the guts to show up here!"
"Okay then, thank you Jonghyun, I'm glad you care for me. But if you haven't noticed, I'm going to die!"
The room goes eerily silent, ball dropping to the floor, Jonghyun sinks back down into his chair. Kibum stares at the bouncy ball rolling around, eyes empty, and Jonghyun almost thinks he’s lost his soul already.
“Two years wasted, huh?” Kibum’s voice is quiet, “Two years of just. Answering questions to die?”
The words sink into Jonghyun’s skin, cold and haunting, plaguing his mind.
“What day is it even,” he whispers.
Jonghyun’s not sure if it’s a rhetorical question, but he answers anyways, the silence is unbearable, chilling him to the bone. “September eleventh,” he whispers back.
Kibum sits on the floor, tracing pictures in the ground. Fear shouldn’t come like this, right? It’s not even there. It’s almost like anger. Why are they killing me? Jonghyun, you bastard. Well you certainly made life worth living, Kibum. What the hell would Onew think about you now?
“I want to go back to my room,” Kibum chokes out. Jonghyun looks over his shoulder at Kibum, and gets up.
The walk back is also silent, unnerving, and slightly calming. Just slightly.
Tomorrow, he breathes. Tomorrow, he thinks. Tomorrow, he will be an entirely other figure. He won’t be Kibum, or Key, or any other stupid identity he’s made up. He’ll be another dead body, another life wasted; another lost soul meeting its end.
Kibum’s wonders what it’s like to have a broken heart. Because if this – this pounding at his heart, if this feeling, like someone ripped your heart out of your chest and squeezed it until all breath was gone, having convulsions and pressed palms against the sides of your head until you can’t think straight, then yes, Kibum has a broken heart.
Kibum can’t cry, won’t cry, doesn’t want to cry. He wants his heart to stop beating at an irregular pattern, fast and heavy and uncomfortable. He wants to stop heaving and breathing hard to grasp the oxygen in the air that he somehow just can’t reach.
Jonghyun enters the room; eyes all tired and dark when he sees Kibum crouched in the corner again. He’s pressed against the walls, knees against his chest, with his arms around his legs. His head is pressed against his knees, forcing out the world.
Jonghyun frowns with a tired sigh, and crouches down next to Kibum. Poking him weakly, he asks, “How long are you gonna crouch down there?”
He received a muffled squeak in return, and Jonghyun bites his bottom lip before grabbing on Kibum’s wrist and pulling softly. Kibum rises quite easily, leaning on Jonghyun for support as he drags them both towards his bed.
“Kibum, it’s eleven,” he murmurs as he places the blanket over their bodies. He nudges Kibum’s shoulders, and he slowly turns around to face Jonghyun. Jonghyun’s face flushes as he slowly brings Kibum closer, tangling their legs together, and letting Kibum grab his shirt and snuggle closer to him, drawing in heavy breaths.
“You should be going to the room.”
Jonghyun stabs the desk with his pencil. “Shut up Minho.”
“You really should.”
Jonghyun glares at him, “Why should I? He’s going to die – be put to sleep, whatever. They make him sound like a dog.”
Minho raises an eyebrow, “He’s your patient.”
Jonghyun faces the wall. “In half an hour he won’t.”
And it’s true. In half an hour, Kibum won’t be Kibum anymore. He’ll be a random person, a limp body, a corpse.
Jonghyun flinches at the thought. Minho rolls his eyes, “You know he’s more than a friend.”
“You know I did your mom last night,” Jonghyun retorts. He catches Minho’s glance and sighs, “Sorry.”
Minho moves Jonghyun’s bangs out his eyes, concern lingering in his irises longer than Jonghyun wants them to be. “Even as just a friend,” – Jonghyun’s breath hitches, “no one would just let their friend be put to sleep.”
“Minho, what the hell can I do, bust in there and get Kibum the hell out? Where would that put me, Minho?” Jonghyun presses his head against the table, sucking in a deep breath.
“If that were honestly the case Jonghyun,” Minho states, “then you wouldn’t be like this, would you?”
Jonghyun pauses, glancing up at him. “No, I’m like this because I’m depressed and Kibum’s out there and not in here even though I don’t know why he would be in here, and I want him to live, to keep living, because hell, that kid might go places, he’s snarky and funny and a crazy fashionista, but that’ll get him somewhere.”
Minho stares at him, “And you care about this because…”
“You’re an asshole,” Jonghyun glares.
Minho frowns, sitting across from him. “That doesn’t end the sentence Jonghyun. Why do you really care?”
“Because fucking hell Minho, I love him!” Jonghyun spits out.
There’s an awkward pause in where Minho smirks triumphantly at him and Jonghyun brain seems to click everything together. The world seems a bit clearer yet confusing at the same time because, fuck, he understands now, but then it’s like what the hell do I do now?
His body seems to have an answer because he can hear himself throw a goodbye over his shoulder and he’s out the door, down the stairs, running as fast as he can to reach Kibum in time.
What the hell he’s going to do, and how he’s going to do it, and an excuse for why he’s going to do it never crosses his mind until he bursts into the laboratory, looking around in a wild panic.
One of the nurses answer him, “He’s already on the bed, they’re getting the shot ready, and – hey, you’re not allowed in there!”
Jonghyun’s pretty sure he looks like he’s going to kill someone, and rapidly unbuckles the belts on the hospital bed.
Kibum stares up at him, eyes wide, and he looks like he’s going to hyperventilate.
“Jonghyun, what are you do–”
“Sorry,” Jonghyun hisses quickly, dragging Kibum out of bed. “He’s not leaving. Just, not yet.”
“Jonghyun,” the doctor gapes, “Are you insane?”
“Yes,” Jonghyun admits. “I’m a little insane, a little over the top, a little in love, a little overboard, but that’s okay. That’s what I get for working here, right?”
When he gets no response, he smirks and states darkly, “Oh, and he’s my patient, therefore he belongs to me. Not the board, okay? He’s mine.”
With that he walks out of the lab quickly, dragging Kibum behind by his wrist. They walk down hallways, up stairs, past very confused looking patients and workers, all the way up to Jonghyun’s office where he pushes Kibum in and locks the door swiftly.
There’s an awkward silence where Jonghyun feels like he’s going to burst because he just pulled off a whole top secret ‘rescue Kibum’ mission, and now Kibum is staring at him with a blank ‘whatthehelldidyoujustdo’ look.
“Um, so like. I can explain. There was like, depression, mad depression, and Minho bugging me, and then someone said a your mom joke – I think that was me actually, but then he kept asking, and then I blurted out that I liked you, and then it was like, fuck, I can’t let you die, and then I was running for my life, and god Kibum, why are you staring at me like that?”
“What the fuck took you so long?”
“I, um, wha–”
Kibum roughly grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling him closer and smashing their lips together, easily dominating Jonghyun. He pushes Jonghyun back towards the wall, hands on each side of head, no way out. Jonghyun’s feeble attempts to push him off are long forgotten when his hands curve in to grab Kibum’s collar, pulling him closer towards him. His eyes close and mouth opens as Kibum slips his tongue in between his teeth, earning a small moan from Jonghyun. Kibum smirks, skimming over the skin until he reaches his ear, whispering in small puffs, “What was that about liking me?”
Jonghyun shivers in delight from Kibum’s breath – warming the skin it has contact with. Kibum smiles devilishly from above, leaning in for another kiss – one that Jonghyun responds to, eagerly. Kibum leaves the blonde’s lips, travelling downwards to the hollow of Jonghyun’s neck. He sucks on the skin there and goes back up, nipping on his ear.
Jonghyun breathes in heavily, “Kibum, this is so, so wrong–”
Kibum’s lips graze over Jonghyun’s, “But you love it, don’t you?”
Jonghyun can only whimper as Kibum kisses him roughly, hands pulling at Jonghyun’s hair.
There’s a reason Jonghyun’s here, too.
sobs, huge, huge, huge shoutout to yumiuesagi for listening to me whining and complaining, and then forcing her to read and then listen to me moan more about it. and then she had to listen to me whine even more when it took me such a long time to think of an ending. yeah. THIS IS FOR YOU, STEPH.