Kibum cradled his hand protectively.
Though Minho had urged him repeatedly to go to the hospital, to get ​anyone to check it out, Kibum had ignored him. Dismissals of it couldn't be broken and ​it's not that bad, really had been all that he had to pacify Minho, yet the younger wasn’t keen to fall for it, and Kibum hadn’t been keen to employ more elaborate lies. Instead, he'd saturated his blood with painkillers, but after two long days, he was beginning to run out.
“What's taking him so long..?” Minho asked rhetorically. They both wore face masks and kept their heads low as they waited awkwardly by the empty bus stop, the street dotted with only a few passers-by.   Kibum bit his bottom lip and chewed on it softly, trying to distract his mind from who Minho was talking about; it'd been a few days since the confession, but Kibum’s heart still hurt as much every time he thought about it as it had upon first hearing. It was bad enough that Jonghyun had kept finding Taemin from them, but sleeping with their dongsaeng was a different matter altogether. Kibum didn't even know how Jonghyun could have done it. They were like brothers, not lovers. The whole idea was wrong, and unsettling.   As Minho checked his watch nervously, Kibum gently pulled at a loose thread of his jacket, unravelling the hem slightly. Though he wanted to ignore it, all he could think about was Jonghyun – his puppy smile and endearing eyes, his warm heart and the hugs he'd given Kibum that had felt like a home for his weary mind. The light kisses that came with hellos and goodbyes, and the stronger, more alluring kisses that came in the silence of night. The way he'd cradled Kibum and his hair and the way Kibum had offered him the same sanctuary, and the words that were exchanged between the lovers that cemented their bond like nothing else could: the ​I need you's and the ​I love you's.
Kibum’s skin crawled.
“Finally,” Minho breathed, propping himself up from the plastic exterior of the bus shelter as a man approached them, hood up and hands jammed in his pockets. He looked suspicious, like a man who'd committed a thousand crimes and was running from his mistakes.
To Kibum, that’s who he ​was.
Every last thread of hope evaporated from Minho’s eyes as Jonghyun slowed upon reaching them, shaking his head. His downcast expression and tired complexion would have driven fear into Kibum like a stake, were it for any other reason.
“They have him,” Jonghyun spoke quietly. “I know it.”
A young woman passed by without giving them a second glance, hurrying as the rain began to mizzle from the grey clouds. Kibum watched her as she stalked further away, a woman reminiscent of who their fans had been – young, fresh, full of life... He wondered for his fans, wondered if they still supported him when he could no longer support himself.
“You don’t know that,” Minho consoled, remo