Mooooooooooore Kibum <3

Minho had been coming often, about 4 or 5 times a week, if he had time. He would sit with Kibum and they would talk for hours, or as long as Dr. Lee permitted them to.

At first, Minho would give Kibum a little pat on the shoulder as a goodbye. Then it had started to build up slowly. One day, he would give Kibum a bit of a squeeze. The next day, he would wrap and arm around his shoulder for a little hug. And then he slowly made his way to passionate hugs. Which sounded weird, because how could hugs be passionate?

Minho would slowly trail his hands up the inside of Kibum's torso, and wrap his arms around Kibum, squeezing him tightly against himself. Kibum would have no choice but he press his body close to Minho's and lay his cheek against his shoulder. Minho would hug him for a while, and they would just stand there, listening to each other's heart beats until Dr. Lee walked in and cleared . And then Minho would let go, painfully slow, and whisper a sweet "Good-bye."

Kibum had been dreaming about him, more than usual.

Every night, as he fell asleep, his mind would immediately turn to Minho. Minho's eyes, his smile, his muscular arms, his... Kibum always wondered what it looked like underneath Minho's shirt. 

And that killed him.

He was still set on thinking he was disgusting. That was one of the reasons why Minho was taking so long to take the relationship to the next level. He wanted to ask Kibum out, plan a date for the day Kibum was released. He wanted to hold him and kiss him, but he didn't want to scare Kibum. Kibum was too preoccupied with being disgusted with himself.

All he could hear was his father's words, disgrace garbage burn in hell burn burn burn...

Whenever he would start to think that maybe Minho wouldn't hate him for being so... disgusting, those words would come right back, and he would become distant. It would take from minutes to hours to days for Minho to get Kibum to come back and act like Kibum.

Therapy helped, though. Kibum hadn't yet explained to Minho why he would act that way, why he would pull away, or call himself such terrible names... He didn't want Minho to know how truly disgusting he was. 

Minho already knew. Not about how disgusting he was, but about how beautiful and fragile and sad his Kibum was. He wanted to make him better, but he didn't know how. 

Dr. Lee was planning on having him in for a therapy "date" with Kibum. She had decided that Minho and Kibum knew each other well enough that Kibum could tell him about such things. She hadn't told Kibum yet, though.

Minho had left hours ago, and here Kibum was, sliding under the covers and into bed. He laid back against the pillow, worn out from the game of tag he, Minho, Jonghyun, and Taemin had played outside. Jonghyun and Taemin really liked Minho, and while Kibum wasn't looking, they had thanked him with all their hearts for saving Kibum, and for still trying to save him. Kibum needed help, a lot of it, and Minho wanted to be there every step of the way.

Kibum sighed and his side, mind slowly falling into a fog. Soon, he was alseep. 

He would dream about Minho, holding his hand while they walked through Seoul, laughing and kissing under the sun.

He dreamed about Minho, about his laugh and his smile and the way his fingers danced over Kibum's skin when they played. Minho liked to tickle.

He dreamed about Minho, making love to him, for hours and hours. He dreamed about them kissing, hugging, cuddling, and loving. He dreamed about little babies with brown hair and big eyes, reaching up towards him with cute little grins. And Minho was there, kissing their children, running around in a backyard full of grass and trees and life, and so much sunlight.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. 

Kibum was just lying to himself.

If he told Minho he loved him, he would just bring him down. He would ruin Minho. Then, Minho would hate him, and what would Kibum have left? Nothing. He already had nothing. He couldn't lose anything else.

And yet, every night, Kibum would lay in bed, dreaming about what could be. What life would be like, loving Minho and Minho loving him back. 

It disgusted him.