pairing: minkey; pg
genre: seatbelt!au, tragedy, romance
length: drabble — 750 words

“I’m scared.”

Kibum’s icy hand tenses its grip around Minho’s larger, bonier fingers. He’s not looking up at Minho, glassy eyes instead gazing out of the window as the white snow sticks to the surface.

The room is toasty and warm but Minho is freezing, insides as cold as ice. He tries to swallow around the thick lump lodged in his throat but he can’t—he can barely breathe as it was, and the prolonged ache in his chest was now officially reaching unbearable heights. Minho wants to respond, to saysomething, but the words refuse to come out.

Finally, Kibum turns to look at him, feline eyes looking so tired yet still oddly fierce as he smiles weakly. “I’m sorry, Minnie,” he mutters, voice hoarse, “that was probably the last thing you wanted to hear.” He laughs then―a mere shadow of how he use to cackle so unabashedly, with his head thrown back and shoulders shaking, delighted tears pricking his eyes―and it is a breathless sound, more of a resigned sigh than anything else.

Minho’s breathing hitches and a sob finally escapes past his throat, grasp tightening around Kibum’s delicate hand as he brings the white fingers to his lips and presses tender kisses to the tips. His lover looks so frail and tiny lying on the hospital bed, swathed in bleach white cotton sheets. His sharp cheekbones jut out, cheeks sunken in and skin darkened around the eyes from lack of rest. His lips are blue and his skin is sickly pale—he’s not going to be around much longer.

“No, no, I’m scared too, baby,” Minho cries back, eyes threatening tears, “don’t hold back on me. Tell me how you feel.”

Kibum laughs again, hollow. “I’m not going to make it to Christmas this year,” he answers honestly, and their eyes meet, “not this time.”

Minho can no longer hold back the overwhelming sadness, the resulting tears wetting his cheeks as he cries. “But you’ve been doing so well.”

Wet drops track down Kibum’s pallid temples as he stares up at Minho. “I’ve been confined to the hospital for over a year now, jagiya,” he murmurs back softly, “you know I’m not doing well at all.” He wants to comfort the younger man by lifting his arm and brushing away the damp strands of hair from Minho’s face, but he can’t. He’s long lost the feeling in his entire left side, body numb as his weakening heart tries to keep him alive.

He can’t help but feel sorry for Minho, who’s been living in the hospital with him all these months, constantly glued to his side because they both knew that this day would come. He wasn’t even supposed to be alive right now―there was a grave under his name waiting for him for the past nine years.

“Kibummie,” Minho whimpers, leaning over to press a sweet kiss against his lover’s mouth, lips quivering. “Don’t leave me.”

Kibum suddenly gets a flashback to fifteen years ago, when they are both hiding in the closet during Kibum’s tenth birthday party, giggling as they wait to be found by their friends. They’re holding each other’s hands tightly then as well, but back then their grips were sturdy and youthful, full of acceptance as they share secret smiles and lean into each other.

I’m gonna go check to see if they’re outside, Minho had whispered quietly, large eyes sparkling as he got up. Panic had spiked inside Kibum’s chest—he didn’t want Minho to leave him alone in the dark closet―and instead he holds the onto the younger boy’s hand even tighter.

Don’t leave me, he cried, I’m scared.

It’ll be okay, Minho had replied, smiling down at him sympathetically. Just for a second.

Kibum still remembers the anxiety of being alone as he watched anxiously after Minho’s retreating back―even now, just recalling, it brings tears to his eyes. “It’ll be okay, baby,” he finally says, repeating the familiar words, “just for a second.”

Minho feels it before it happens, and for a few seconds he forgets how to breathe, eyes glued to Kibum’s face. There is an affectionate smile on his dying lover’s trembling lips, the words “I love you” on his tongue as he rubs his thumb reassuringly against the back of younger man’s hand.

Everything happens too quickly after the heart monitor suddenly flat-lines, Kibum’s eyes slowly fluttering shut as he takes in a deep, shuddering breath.

It doesn’t come back out.

Years pass before Minho finally relearns how to breathe.

a/n: just a small thingy before the onho sequel. i wanted to write this out so minho would have a bit of a background when i write…