Almighty Key

In Heat || Minho&Key

He was at work, everything seeming normal and running smoothly. It was during the day, so the place wasn’t exactly busy, but it’d pick up soon enough. He had been finding it hard to focus on the music lately, his mind was always wandering to his boyfriend. They didn’t see each other as much as Minho would like, even though they lived together. They both so busy with work and school respectively, it was hard to keep a good eye on Kibum.

And Minho was worried.

Kibum had been sabotaged at a runway show, a place Minho had been nowhere near. He had barely made it in time to help Kibum and get rid of the hunters, and even so he was still late. He never wanted another scare like that again, ever. He truly thought he had lost the best thing in his life, the thing that mattered the most to him. He couldn’t stand the thought of that happening again. And so he worried, while DJing on the side.

The worrying wasn’t much help when he suddenly got a call from Kibum. He never called at work, he always texted if he needed anything. A call was serious, and he could feel his heart sink into his gut as he answered. The voice on the other end was panicked, desperate. The moment he heard the word ‘hurt’ he was gone, out the door, rushing to the school. His boss would be mad, but Minho didn’t care, he’d explain later. He rushed and rushed until he was there at the school, searching desperately for Kibum, asking everyone and anyone around him where he might be. Once he finally found a friend that directed him to the dressing room for the modelling wing of the building he ran.

“KIBUM!” He busted into the room, chest heaving, worry all over his face. He could’ve very well been walking in on a dead boyfriend, but what he saw didn’t seem far off. “Kibum?”

#damnnnnnn #minhoxblueblood

Minho had come home last night, and he usually waited up, he was already on the fourth season of ugly Betty with the ammount of time he spent waiting for Minho to get back from work. But the moment he’d turned the light on to greet him Key had been recoiling, complaining of a headache, and the next thing he knew it was morning, and the coffee was making his stomach turn, and the stylists hands on his hair was making him irritable. It only got worse. The clothes were always good, too good, but the texture of the fabric struck fire along his skin everytime he moved in front of the camera, and he didn’t think he could last.

His mind kept wandering to Minho, which was never rare, but these days he’d been pretty independant, the ‘honey moon’ stage of moving in with his boyfriend had worn off, and he no longer pined for him when he was in the middle of a photo shoot. But not today, something was off. He barely excused himself, locking himself in one of the changing rooms before it hit him.

A seizure was never off the cards, but it never came, instead there was an overwhelming, almost painful wave of heat that washes over him, and he barely has time to slam the door shut with his foot before his ears are breaking out, and tail rests awkwardly between the sweat of his back and the wall of the dressing room, cushioning his small body where it quivers in pain. He drops his phone two times before he can dial Minhos number, his thoughts incoherent as he pleads for him to get here fast before someone walks in and sees him like this, half human, half feline, and 100% desperate beyond belief.

Minho things: Abs (¬‿¬)

What goes up must come down - Minho & Key

“YES IT BOTHERS ME.” Obviously it bothered him, why wouldn’t it? Kibum’s naked body was only for his eyes now, no one else’s. “Do you have to do this? I’m sure there’s tons of single guys who aren’t my boyfriend who could do it. Why don’t you just do a naked shoot for me? I can be the photographer, the films will only be seen by us. Now that is a naked shoot I will condone.” Kibum knew this would bother him and for a brief moment he wondered if the other was messing with him. He couldn’t take any chances though.

A slow, crooked grin found it’s way onto his lips as Kibum neared him, his hands moving to his waist. “Maybe I should get an apron then. I’ll be the stay at home when the time comes, you’re right, I am better at it. You’ve got a career ahead of you anyways.” He could feel his eyes falling shut naturally as Kibum neared his lips, but there was no kiss. A pout formed on his lower lip, which was interrupted by a watermelon slice. He munched angrily, deciding to take his shirt off for revenge. “It’s hot in here.”

Keys nose scrunches until it wrinkles at the bridge from where he’s eating, the idea of that kind of photoshoot with just Minho makes him cringe more than doing it in a studio surrounded by a bunch of people who don’t really know him. He’s always been extroverted on the outside, key, but with Minho he’s someone entirely different and somehow he manages to keep the two worlds entirely apart. Most of the time. He perks up from his plate of food at Minhos words though, one naive eyebrow raised. “When the time comes?” He murmurs under his breath because he couldn’t think of another time, he was very here and now, and he didn’t know how things would change enough for Minho to have to stop working nights. As much as he would like him to so he had someone to come home to at night, he wasn’t that selfish.

He’s all for the serious conversation that is no doubt about to follow but Minho is peeling his shirt off, and as ever thats his cue. He pushes the tray aside firmly, slipping himself between his boyfriends knees and steadying himself against his thighs as he slides closer to him. Somewhere between pushing bare hips back into the pillows with the heel of his hands he changes, pupils narrowing, tan ears sprouting from beneath messy hair. Minho is used to this by now, perhaps not used to the retained fire beneath his skin that heats where his fingertips touch, but not enough to burn him. But Minho hasn’t seen him like this before, when he changes completely, the most oversized cat you’ve ever seen, two tails struggling to both tuck beneath his legs when he curls himself up on his chest.

colorfulminho

#cry babies #me

What goes up must come down - Minho & Key

He could feel Kibum tense under his touch, making slide the hand to his side instead. He was glad Kibum was starting to get back to himself— Wait what? “N-… Naked? Did you say naked?” He tugged Kibum’s shirt back down, pursing his lips. “Why? Why does it have to be naked? What’s the point? Fashion is about clothes, you should be wearing clothing, there’s nothing fashionable about naked, you’re not wearing anything, why? Why would they make you do this?” Clearly he didn’t like the idea and he was already making plans in his head to go along with Kibum to this naked photo shoot of his. No one crucial to the project would be seeing him naked, that’s for damn sure.

He settled a bit with the switch in conversation, the memories of the night he was given the two little scars on his neck flooding through his head and making him feel hot. He couldn’t help but smirk a bit from the memories of him and Kibum. They were masters of the bedroom, no one could argue that. “Mm, you’ll have to give me more soon.” He took the fork from him, chuckling at the comment on gender roles as he held the fork to Kibum’s lips. “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to end up being the housewife and you’re going to be the big money maker?”

He beams at his boyfriend, as whipped as he is, as he leans forward and takes the food off the fork. Key almost chokes on his mouthful of food at Minhos reaction, he was so so predictable, and he loved it. He chews slowly, painfully slowly, making him wait for his response. “It’s for nature republic.” He lies with a smile. “They’re gonna shoot me in the woods with just a leaf over my crotch.” He captures some of the rice with his chop sticks and raises it up to smug lips. “Does that bother you? That all the little forest animals will see me butt naked?” He’s pushing it, just like he always has to, thrives off this kind of reaction from Minho.

He pushes the tray aside, hooks slender fingers around the back of his neck to hoist himself up to his level. “Maybe I will.” He whispers, thumbing the raised surface of the scar he left on the side of his neck. “Why do i get the feeling that i’d totally be okay with coming home to you wearing nothing but an apron hm? You’ve always been better at this homely thing than I have.” He leans in, blue eyes dropping to his lips, breath faltering against his cheek like he’s about to kiss him, but instead he just rocks back to sit on his thighs and shoves one of the slices of watermelon against his mouth instead.

#minhoxblueblood #wgumcd

What goes up must come down - Minho & Key

An arm slid around him easily out of habit, tugging him a little closer than he normally would. He still hadn’t shook that fear he had felt when he thought Kibum had passed. He was on high alert now, and something told him he’d always be a little more protective from now on. His Demon form had come in handy, it was the first time he had ever been grateful for it. That was a trick he’d have to use in the future if another situation like that rose. It scared him to death to think that he might lose Kibum again. The hunters were watching obviously, he’d have to find a way to ward them off.

Putting his thoughts aside, he glided his fingers across Kibum’s smooth stomach, tracing where the knife had gone in nights prior. “This stupid virus is good for one thing at least. No scars even. Your modelling career is unharmed.” He chuckled, that was probably a thought that had crossed Kibum’s mind throughout all this. “Shame though, a scar would’ve been sexy.” A genuine, albeit small smile graced his lips as he too glanced to the breakfast tray. “I can make breakfasts on Sundays. Should I quit DJing to be a nurse then? Isn’t that kind of girly?”

The muscles on his stomach shy away from his touch, still sensitive even if the signs of his injury aren’t there anymore. The memory is, and he doesn’t think he’s going to get over it any time soon. “Thats good.” He quips, somewhat back to his usual self. “It means i can do that naked photo shoot they asked me to do.” He gives him this devious side glance like he’s only half joking, and theres a part of him that knows Minho won’t like it, he was posessive of him even before he was allowed to call him his.

At the mention of scars his eyes flicker up to Minhos neck, lifting his hand up to run his finger over the two circular scars at the base of his throat. “Like these ones.” He smiles, and he doesn’t have an explanation as to why they didn’t go away, but he kind of likes it. His words bring a smile to his face and he’s starting to forget why hes stuck in their large double bed to begin with. He slides off his lap to retrieve the tray and places it between them. picking up one of the eggs with his fork and holding it out to him to hold instead. “Screw gender roles. I like you like this.” His cheeks hurt from thinking about Minho wearing a nurse outfit, so he just opens his mouth patiently instead, waiting for him to feed him.

#minhoxblueblood #wgumcd

What goes up must come down - Minho & Key

He may have been holding too tight but he could apologize for it later, he was too busy thanking any and every God that existed for giving Kibum back to him. He spoke at a millions miles a minute into his neck, his squeezed shut with unsalted tears leaking through them. “I thought you were gone— I don’t know what I would’ve done without you—” He was hysterical, not that Kibum would mind at the moment. The next three words that came out of his mouth were the best thing he had ever heard in his life. “I love you too.”

It was a quiet Sunday with Minho in the kitchen cooking breakfast. He always had Sunday off which was nice. Saturday was spoiled for him since he was put on full time at the club, so his boss had given him the other half of the weekend as a little prize for his hard work. He fixed Kibum’s plate for him, the eggs, rice, potatoes all neatly arranged on his plate with a side plate of watermelon and two glasses, one with coffee and one with blood, all arranged on a tray for him. He brought the tray to the bedroom, setting it on the nightstand and sitting next to Kibum on the bed. “How you feeling?”

Key had completely healed, the infection made sure of that. But he hadn’t gone to his classes at all, and he’d made up an excuse based around his epilepsy as to why he had to leave the show early. His eyes burn from keeping his contacts in, but he wants to appear as normal as possible, and the blue eyes that stare back at him when he looks in the mirror just doesn’t cut it. He’s so used to getting back up onto his feet again, but this time he doesn’t have to, not with minho around.

So he stays inside for as long as possible, counts down the minutes waiting for Minho to come home, tries to remember what it was like when he wasn’t scared of the world. He glances at the tray, and his appetite dwindles until he sees one of the glasses, and he knocks back the blood before he really thinks about it. He leaves the rest untouched as he moved to sit himself on one of Minhos legs. “I’m good.” He tells him, lifting his shirt up to expose his stomach. “It’s like it never happened.” He smiles at the smooth skin, because it’s a lie, “Can I get this kind of treatment all the time?” He laughs,nodding towards the tray. “Nurse Choi is something i could get used to.”

What goes up must come down - Minho & Key

Just when he thought it was all over, when he thought he’d be alone forever and that the one good thing to happen to him had been ripped away from him, he was proven wrong. By some miracle he could feel Kibum moving. But he was dead, dead people don’t move. Unless he wasn’t dead… Their hands were laced together, the rings clinking softly and all Minho could do was stare in awe. Had yelling at the Gods actually worked? If this didn’t make him a believer he didn’t know what would. “K-Kibum? Are you—?” He squeezed his hand briefly, fresh tears springing from his eyes, but these tears were joyful.

“KIBUM!” He buried his face in his neck again, a mixture of sobs and laughs escaping him. His free arm wrapping around him and held him close, as if he’d slip away again if he let go. “You’re alive! You’re fucking alive! There is a fucking God, holy shit—” Words couldn’t describe how he was feeling anymore, he was a mess of emotions that could only be expressed with tears and laughs. Any onlooker would think he was mad. He didn’t care though, as long as he had Kibum.

It hurts, Minho is holding him too tightly, he hasn’t healed yet, but the pain means that he’s alive, and thats exactly where he wants to be. His senses come back to him slowly, he can hear the fashion show music faintly through the wall, because life goes on without him. Minho wouldn’t have though, and that scares him. The responsibility of having another person rely on you too much, Key had never quite realised how careful he needed to be now.

“Minho-” He sighs, speech coming back to him, and of course his name is the first thing to echo past his lips. He’s still weak but he throws his arms around his neck, clings onto him as much as humanly possible. “I love you.” He tells him, even though it’s not too late anymore. He won’t be taking it for granted, and hes going to make sure that he reminds him every living moment of the day.

What goes up must come down - Minho & Key

He watched the blood seep through his fingers for long enough to know that trying to block it wouldn’t do much good. Instead he turned back to Kibum, wrapping his arms around him and dragging him up into his lap. He caught a glimpse of the necklace in his hand, a smile emerging through all the tears and pained looks he had made. He took the necklace from his weak hand, securing it around Kibum’s neck again, putting it back where it belonged. He looked to the sky, more tears leaking as he shook his head. He took Kibum’s hands and rested it over his own heart. That’s where you’ll be, forever. And as he thought those last words, he felt the little bit of strength Kibum had drain from his hand, watched it drain from his eyes. He was gone.

He had never realized how painful crying could be until now. His eardrums throbbed now, his throat was nearly numb from all the strain. His eyes and nose kept leaking liquid. He was a complete mess, but if you’re entire world had just shattered and died in front of you then you’d be a complete mess too. It took him a while to close Kibum’s eyes for him, but once he did a new wave of pain came crashing through, It was a type of pain he had never experienced before. Loss… This is what true loss felt like. He cradled Kibum’s head into his chest and rocked slowly as he sobbed into his hair. His hair was soft and still had his scent all through it. It was his only comfort at the moment. Things like what he’d do tomorrow and how he’d tell Kibum’s grandmother, how he’d tell Kyungsoo, how he would carry on without him… It was all fleeting. He couldn’t focus on any of it, he could only think of how Kibum was dead. He was actually dead.

“This isn’t fair…” He managed to croak out. After a long time he had finally run out of tears. He felt dry and numb to the point where he wondered if he was alive himself. He pulled back to look at Kibum’s face. He looked peaceful somehow… It drew more tears from him. “I finally found you and got you, I finally had happiness and now… IT ISN’T FAIR!” He looked up to the sky, hot fresh tears streaming down his cheeks. “IS THIS SOME KIND OF SICK JOKE? AM I SUPPOSED TO BE TORTURED FOR MY ENTIRE LIFE? IS THIS WHAT I DESERVE? WHY’D YOU TAKE HIM? HE WAS INNOCENT! HE DIDN’T DESERVE THIS! WHY DIDN’T YOU FUCKING TAKE ME INSTEAD YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” As if yelling at whatever higher power was up there would make a difference. It’s not like yelling would bring him back. No, Minho was doomed to wander this earth alone, if he didn’t kill himself before he could live his life out without Kibum.

Key was peaceful, even in death. He hadn’t been for the majority of him life, between the drunken excursions and his exuberant personality, and the difficult start to life he’d had, his life had been anything from peaceful. For the longest time he had conditioned himself to like it that way, to enjoy the buzz of not feeling anything, but you didn’t know what you were missing until it was too late. And perhaps it was, these past couple of months had been the most domestic months of his life, and he never thought he would’ve found pleasure in house work and waiting for his boyfriend to come home - but Key had never been more peaceful. And that showed on his features, although covered in blood, soft lips were parted, feline shape of them even now curving into a smile. Key was never one to leave a part early, and that was down to his personality. Always afraid that he would miss something, that people would be talking about something long after he went home, and he regret it for the rest of the evening. Dying early would be perhaps the biggest regret, he left behind a Minho that had yet to grow grey hairs, hadn’t heard enough of his I love yous to ever be satisfied. It was trivial things, things that Key had dismissed his entire life that filled his mind. He’d seen Minho in a suit only once, but he knew, the part of him that wasn’t as scared of commitment as he thought, that he definitely wanted to see Minho dressed like that again. He wanted to see their children, and he did, seated on their grandmothers lap. He wasn’t sad, even though he’d missed out on all this, because he was seeing it all now, and it was a good life, it was.

The virus was both the worst and best thing that had happened to him. Without it he would’ve still been a mess, but without it, his body wouldn’t be healing itself right now. It’s a slow process, he’s cut himself before and it healed almost instantly, but this was so much more serious. Even though the wound is changing, his clothes are so soaked in blood that theres no telling. Life comes back to his cells gradually, and although his lungs only stutter beneath little bird bones, its something. Minho is shouting, or at least he thinks he is, theres a ringing in his ears that he can’t place, and a horrible taste in his mouth. Making the connection between his body and mind was difficult, and although he wants to come back with a ‘stop shouting Choi’ He doesn’t. His finger twitches, stiffened with dry blood, and moves on a slow path in search of Minhos hand. When he finds it, the warmth is immediate, cold metal of their rings slides together when their hands touch and Key stills, satisfied at the small feat.