#kimchay prompt
wik is in his dressing room, frantically searching for his favorite knife.
porchay, who is there as a guest of honor, is slightly confused as to why kim needs a blade right before going on stage.
kim’s feeling on edge.
he never loses his favorite blade, and he’s lowkey blaming it on porchay’s presence; having him there, in a space as private as his dressing room, is completely throwing him off.
the search goes on for a few more minutes and chay finally gives up on logic and starts helping him look. the clock is ticking way too fast... less than 20 minutes until wik has to be on stage.
after turning the place upside down, chay realizes that searching for the knife is getting them nowhere. he simply decides to stop and ask Kim what all this chaos is actually about.
at first, kim can’t find the words; he’s feeling too agitated and overheated.
the leather straps of his top are starting to suffocate him, as is the belt holding his microphone pack.
chay sees it happening: that scary spiral where kimhan takes over, burying kim and wik under an impenetrable wall and those ice-cold eyes.
he knows he has to act now. and he does the only thing that could possibly stop the looming disaster:
he kisses kim.
it’s not a sweet kiss like all the others he’s used to giving. this one is firm, demanding, and all-consuming—and kim has to pull all the scattered pieces of himself together just to respond to the gesture properly.
the chaos in his head finally starts to settle. the murky waters clear up, returning to that perfect, crystal-clear calm that only chay knows how to bring out in him.
“now that you're calm... can you please tell me why you need that knife so much?” chay whispers, praying he didn't ruin the moment by asking this.
“i need it,” Kim says, looking lowkey embarrassed. “without it, I can’t... I can’t do my eyeliner properly.”
chay literally has to hold back a laugh, because of course, OF COURSE, kimhan uses a literal blade for something as simple as eyeliner.
“i can do it for you,” he offers.
kim thinks about it for a second, but the ticking of the clock is enough to make him agree.
“alright, kitty,” he says, closing his eyes and sitting down in the chair in front of the mirror.
chay puts his all into it, and the result is exactly what’s expected for wik’s look.
“good,” he whispers.
kim smiles; maybe he can retire the knives, for now. there’s something even sharper than that by his side now.
“good,” he whispers back.
