Gladiolus
GladiolusWhen Jinki first steps through the door of his new home, suitcases in tow, he sighs in satisfaction. He considered the empty apartment a blank page the new chapter his life would be starting on, of finally becoming independent and not having to worry about his parents or roommates determining how his time should be spent or how his life should be lived.
Empty aside from the man sitting in the corner of what was going to become the living room. Jinki’s heart beats against chest, thinking someone has broken into his apartment, until he sees the wall of the living room through the man’s transparent body, tinted by his bluish hue.
The man sighs, his shoulders visibly rising. “Looks like I have to deal with yet another one.” He rolls his eyes, stands up, and disappears through the wall.
Jinki drops his suitcases in the doorway and mentally curses himself, making his way towards the room connected to the wall the man had phased into. He should’ve checked more carefully while touring the apartment before buying it.
He opens the door, startling the see-through man, who regards Jinki with wide eyes. “Jesus, what’s he going around shoving doors open for?” He scoffs, shaking his head.
“I can hear you, you know.” Jinki says, crossing his arms. “I can see you, too.”
The man visibly tenses. His eyes dart to the wall he just came out of, and vanishes inside of it so quickly Jinki could’ve mistaken him for a smudge on his glasses. Jinki runs back to the living room, only to find it as empty as he hoped it would’ve been when he first entered. He sighs and leans his forehead against the wall.
A plot twist this early in the chapter was not what he had expected.
Jinki was born with the inexplicable ability to see ghosts. One would think that seeing other people in various degrees of decay would ruin a young child’s psyche, however it was such a regular occurrence that he didn’t even realize he could see things others could not until his father caught him speaking to his great aunt when he was four. The same great aunt who had died ten years prior.
Although his condition was indeed rare, it was not entirely unheard of. His own uncle carried the same burden until his death when Jinki was thirteen. He was a great mentor to Jinki, and one day explained to him why he believed this hardship had been placed upon them.
“It’s rightly a curse.” His uncle had said, cigar between his lips. Jinki’s mother told him it helped him relax. “But someone has to do it. Them ers only get stuck on this hell-hole earth when they got something holding them back. And sometimes, those regrets and unfulfilled promises require the work of the living.” He turned to Jinki and gave him a sad smile. “That’s where we come in. To help lead them to the afterlife.”
Jinki thought he made them sound like grim reapers, but the reality was much duller than that. The ghosts rarely reached out to him, and he didn’t pursue them either. He supposes he might have helped two throughout his entire life; a young girl and a doctor. And he was fine with that, really. He preferred living his life under the cover of normalcy, rather than letting the atrocities the ghosts had suffered through affect his well-being. It wasn’t selfishness, it was self-care.
But now there was an uninvited guest in his home and Jinki couldn’t even find him to tell him to get the hell out. He once hoped that he had scared the man off and he found a new person to annoy, but he would occasionally return from school and find the television , or his laptop in a different place other than where he had left it. It was seriously getting on his nerves.
That’s why, the day his linear programming professor cancelled class, instead of taking the extra two hours to hang out with his friends, he headed straight home. A change in schedule was exactly what he needed to try and ambush the ghost when he least expected it.
As Jinki predicted, there was the man, floating above his couch and watching some mediocre 90s sitcom. The man jumped when the apartment door was forced open, and scrambled away as Jinki angrily stomped towards him. Jinki’s hand closed around his arm before he could reach safety inside the wall, both surprised that Jinki was able to touch him in the first place. But then Jinki’s hand was grasping at smoke, the arm seemingly evaporating into thin air, and he looked up at the man in alarm. The smoke swirled towards the man’s shoulder and compressed back into the shape of his arm. The man smirked and waved with his now free hand, subsequently vanishing into the wall before Jinki could even think about grabbing him again.
Jinki groaned, slamming his fist against the wall right where the man’s head had been. “Motherer.” He cursed under his breath. “Okay, fine, if you don’t have the guts to face me, then just listen.
“I’ve lived with ghosts plenty of times and I don’t really care that you’re here.” It was a lie, but Jinki figured baiting the ghost with honey rather than vinegar would be more beneficial in the end. “But what I do care about is that you’re using my and avoiding me instead of, you know, talking to me and asking me. And it’s really annoying and kind of freaky that you hide all the time because I never know when you’ll pop out, especially when I’m taking a shower or changing my clothes. Seriously, have a little decency.”
When no reply comes after three minutes of waiting, Jinki’s shoulders drop and he sighs. At least he tried.
Just as he was about to turn around and gather the school supplies he haphazardly abandoned at the door, a head pops out of the wall, scaring him half to death and forcing a rather high-pitched shout out of him. The head just rolls its eyes, and reveals its body as it steps out of the wall, floating towards the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” Jinki gasps, hand over his heart as if it would help calm it down.
“I’m going to make dinner.” The ghost says, lowering his feet to the ground and opening the fridge. “What are you in the mood for?”
It’s weird. Jinki doesn’t like eating ddeokbokki while some stranger sits across from him, staring at him, boring holes into his skull.
He coughs, whether from the spiciness of the food or the awkwardness in the air he isn’t sure, and sets his chopsticks on the table. “Do you have to stare at me?” He asks, shifting in his seat.
“What else am I supposed to do?” The ghost deadpans.
“You can’t eat?” Jinki says. He can’t recall if he’s seen ghosts eating before, but he sees no reason why they can’t if they’re tangible. At least to him they are, apparently.
The ghost blinks, slightly taken aback. “I’ve...never tried…” He says. Jinki wordlessly slides the bowl towards him, since he didn’t have much of an appetite anyways. Getting scared less will do that to you. The ghost shakes his head and says “No, I only made enough for one person.”
“Dude, just eat the food when I give it to you.” Jinki dictates, and throws the chopsticks across the table, clinking them against the wood.
The ghost shrugs, takes the chopsticks in his hand, and raises the food to his mouth. Jinki stares in awe as the ghost’s lips close around the ddeokbokki; his semi-transparency made it almost seem as if it had vanished, like a magic trick. The ghost finishes chewing and swallows, raising his eyebrows at Jinki. “I don’t like being stared at either, you know.” The ghost says. Jinki sputters and averts his eyes, the ghost grinning at his reaction. “I mean, I am pretty fascinating and all, so I don’t blame you.”
“It’s not that, it’s just…” Jinki rushes to defend himself, only to be met by the ghosts patronizing gaze, elbow on the table and hand on his cheek. “Whatever.”
The ghost chuckles, a somewhat sharp sound due to the cutting nature of his voice. “Anyways, I can’t taste this, so you can just eat it.” He says, pushing the bowl back towards Jinki.
Jinki eats in silence a few moments more, neither men knowing what to say. After all, they were meeting under rather unusual circumstances, and they knew nothing about the other. Jinki decides he would treat this conversation like would with another human, beginning with pleasantries. “What’s your name?” He asks, mouth full of spicy rice cake.
“Kibum.” The ghost, no, Kibum says. Jinki will have to mentally adapt to the switch. “And yours?”
“Lee Jinki.” He replies.
The gho - Kibum places his hands on the table and looks down at them as if he were somehow mesmerized by his thumbs twiddling back and forth. “Well, Jinki, I’m sorry for using your things without your permission.” His lips suddenly quirk into a half smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I never was able to find your stash.”
For some reason, Jinki finds himself smiling back. “Please. I’ve taken enough computer classes to know how to properly hide my .”
Sometimes, Kibum will appear. The instances are few and far between, but Jinki will occasionally come home and find him, watching TV or reading one of Jinki’s books, both of which Jinki said were okay to do. He forbad Kibum from touching his laptop, but he suspects the ghost still uses it when he’s not home, the bastard. However, with no real evidence, he can’t just accuse Kibum despite his suspicions.
On one of these rare days, Jinki and Kibum are sitting on the couch watching a black and white movie, which they both appreciate for different reasons. Jinki likes the “terrible old man jokes”, as Kibum so lovingly calls them, and Kibum likes observing how filmography has evolved over the decades.
After watching a man wave goodbye to his fiance as he boards a train, Jinki turns to Kibum, a question forming in his mind. Kibum, sensing Jinki’s eyes on him, faces him as well.
“What is it?” Kibum asks.
“Why are you still here?” Jinki says, immediately raising his hands up in defense. “Er, wait I didn’t mean it like that.” Kibum’s mouth curls up in amusement as Jinki continues. “I just meant, why aren’t you off traveling the world? You don’t seem to be stuck in one place like some of the ghosts I’ve met, and since most people can’t see you, you could easily sneak onto a plane or something…”
Kibum hums in thought, turning back towards the television. “I suppose that’s why I don’t do it.” He says, and Jinki is about to ask something else, but Kibum presses on. “I tried traveling for awhile after - um...” He shakes his head. “Well I mean, it’s not much fun when you can’t talk to anyone. And there’s no point in buying souvenirs and I don’t have a camera or anything, so…” Kibum trails off, an unreadable expression across his face. Jinki isn’t sure what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, just watches the movie alongside Kibum. After a moment, Kibum chuckles, and Jinki turns towards him again. “I was about to tell you off for suggesting I should leave.”
Jinki takes in a deep breath, as that’s exactly what he wishes he could do. He lets it out through his mouth.
“Because I mean, I bought this place long before you even stepped foot in here. It’s my property more than yours.” Kibum says, and shifts so he’s leaning on the arm of the couch.
A feeling he can’t quite name rushes over Jinki. He had never thought of Kibum that way, simply seeing him as an insect; hardly noticeable, but unwelcome all the same. The idea that Kibum was just as much of an owner of this four hundred and fifty foot space as he was had been entirely unheard of until just now.
That night, he wonders when becoming desensitized to ghosts’ constant presence also shattered his sympathy towards them.
“Jinki?” Kibum approaches him out of the blue one day. Jinki raises his eyebrows behind his glasses, setting down the textbook he was taking notes on.
“What is it?” Jinki asks, slightly bewildered. Kibum had never willingly shown himself to Jinki before, only on accident when Jinki happened to walk in on him.
“Would you - ” Kibum sighs and cuts himself off. He scratches his temple and glances at the wooden floors. “Would you mind taking me somewhere?”
“Where do you want to go?” Jinki responds, and he stands up to grab his keys off the kitchen counter while telling himself that the only reason he’s doing this is to get out of studying. When no reply comes, he looks over his shoulder and sees Kibum wringing his hands. A thought passes through his mind, a thought telling him that this was the smallest he’s ever seen Kibum look.
“Could you take me to see my grandma?” He says.
They pull up to a retirement home that Kibum admitted to using Jinki’s laptop to find, and Jinki had replied by saying he’d get angry later. They both scrunch their noses before even stepping foot inside, the memories of past visits to nursing homes invading their nostrils.
“I’ll tell you everything you’ll have to say.” Kibum promised on the ride there.
Jinki scoffed. “And why should I do anything for you?” He said, decidedly ignoring the fact that he was driving Kibum to the home at his request, so he might as well do as he was asked or else the trip would be pointless.
Kibum slumped into the leather car seat. “She’s my grandmother, you . Seriously, have a little decency.” He smirked as he echoed what Jinki had said to him during their second conversation ever. Jinki just gripped the steering wheel tighter.
Now that the young nurse was leading them through the hallways of the retirement home, Kibum had gone quiet again, falling a few steps behind them. Jinki told himself a few more times than necessary that he preferred Kibum this way, silent instead of talking his ear off.
They stop in front of a door, and Jinki hears Kibum audibly inhale. “Mrs. Kim, you have a visitor.” The nurse calls into the room, lightly nodding at Jinki. He reluctantly steps into the dim room, the soft mutters and the squeak of a rocking chair in the corner reminding him all too much of the horror movies he watched as a teenager. A strange noise comes from behind him. He ignores it.
“Mrs. Kim?” Jinki says, approaching the figure hunched over in the wooden chair. As he gets closer, he sees that she has sores covering her face, and her scraggly white hair stands at attention in a seemingly random order. She’s looking out the window even though the blinds are closed. The same noise reaches Jinki’s ears. He realizes it’s coming from Kibum this time.
“I, um…” Jinki starts, and clears his throat. He never knew why he always felt awkward around old people. Maybe it was because they seemed so fragile. Or perhaps it had something to do with his condition. He doesn’t dwell on that thought for too long. “I have a message from your grandson.” She mutters something barely audible in response. Jinki turns around to Kibum for help, only to avert his eyes away from him as he catches sight of Kibum’s crying face.
“Grandma…” Kibum sobs out, and Jinki thinks he might actually go insane. If he had known it would be like this, we would’ve stuck to studying. “I’m sorry I took so long.”
“He apologizes for taking so long.” Jinki repeats, folding his hands in front of his torso.
“And I’m sorry for leaving before you.” Kibums wipes away the tears falling from his eyes and Jinki tenses. Kibum’s dead. Oh my god Kibum is actually dead . Why is he getting surprised by this he knew it all along what is wrong with him -
“He says he’s sorry for leaving before you.” Jinki’s voice cracks in the middle and he clasps his hand to his throat. Why did it do that?
“Grandma.” Kibum phases through Jinki, and Jinki stands there, unmoving, as though his legs are made of marble. He never would’ve thought it would feel like that, a ghost running through him. He felt warm, like a kindling was catching fire inside his chest. The smoke from the fire starts creeping into his throat and he coughs, shocked when he sees black smoke in front of him. Kibum doesn’t seem to notice he had just quite literally walked into another person, only kneels down beside his grandmother’s chair. “Grandma, I love you so much.”
“He - ” Jinki breathes out, the gradually building fire inside of him sneaking past his lips with each word, the flames falling and smothering on the floor. “He says he loves you.” His mouth burns but he keeps speaking. “He says he loves you so much, Mrs. Kim.”
Kibum’s small hands wrap around a wrinkled one, his shoulders heaving as repressed whimpers catch in his throat. Jinki falls onto his knees.
When he looks at the carpet, no burn marks are to be seen.
They sit on the couch back home. Kibum is still trying to calm himself down, and Jinki is trying to do the opposite. His mouth and eyes linger open, staring at nothing in particular. The burning had since concluded, but the memory remained, how he could feel the smoke encompassing his lungs, coating his insides. It was painful and wonderful and he wanted to feel it again.
“Jinki.” Kibum chokes out, dried tears strewn across his cheeks. He may have stopped crying anywhere from thirty to two minutes ago and Jinki would be none the wiser. How long had he been sitting there?
“What is it?” Jinki replies. His voice sounds detached from his body, as if he were a puppet and someone was controlling him, moving his mouth and doing a crude impression of him.
“Why am I still here?” Tears brim his eyes again, but he turns and smiles at Jinki despite that. It’s wrong , Jinki thinks. Kibum sighs when Jinki doesn’t respond. “I heard that ghosts only stay here if we have something we need to take care of.”
Jinki nods. “Yes, I heard that too.”
“I thought - ” A whimper escapes his lips and he takes a moment to compose himself once more. “I thought if I apologized to my grandma, I could finally be at peace.” His lips quiver and Jinki feels a needle probe at his heart. “But I’m not.”
“I, um…” Jinki begins and trails off, blinking his eyes a few times in an attempt to ground himself back to reality. “My uncle once told me that the reason I see ghosts is so I can help them.” Kibum doesn’t say anything and Jinki takes a deep breath. “I don’t know why you haven’t…” He makes a vague gesture with his hand, “...passed on yet, but maybe…” He bites his lip and Kibum tilts his head, raising an eyebrow Jinki only now notices has a scar, “...maybe, if you told me how…”
“How I died?” Kibum finishes for him. Jinki nods and nibbles some of the dead skin off his lips. At least Kibum didn’t seem offended. He hovers somewhat higher above the couch, crossing his legs and spinning slightly so he’s directly facing Jinki. “Con heart defect.” He says, and taps his fingers over his chest. “It’s really hard to notice, so I didn’t even know I had it until…” He looks down at his lap, and then back up at Jinki. He wishes Kibum would stop smiling like that. “It’s kinda weird, you know? I never thought I would wake up one morning and see my own body beneath me. So I just kinda…” He brings his knees under his chin, “...sat in the corner like this. I don’t really remember what I was thinking, or if I thought of anything in the first place. Next thing I knew, I heard my grandma scream, and…” His voice catches in his throat again.
Jinki wishes he never asked, because it didn’t make anything clearer and now he’s pitying Kibum. If there was one thing he had learned about Kibum from their fleeting encounters, it was that he didn’t want to be thought of as lacking. “I’m sorry I made you talk about it.” Jinki mumbles.
Kibum smiles the same fake smile from before. Jinki decides he hates it. “It’s okay. It was worth a shot, right?”
No , Jinki thinks. It wasn’t worth it .
When Jinki feels lonely, he likes to call out for Kibum, and suggest that they spend time together. At first, Kibum is surprised.
“I thought you hated me.” He jokes the first couple of times, but the more often it happens, the more accustomed to it he becomes. Sometimes he even appears before Jinki asks him to, as if he had an internal clock telling him exactly when Jinki was going to look for him. Jinki thought himself greedy, the only things gained from these experiences one-sided; an ease to his guilty conscience, another dip on the couch, a solution to an empty table.
Yet Kibum never shows any hint of distaste, never once complained about having to partake in these pastimes, and for that Jinki is grateful. It wasn’t that he had no friends, because he did. The problem lied in the fact that he felt secondary. Never the first choice to spend time with, but always the first to be called on when they needed help because of some stupid situation they had gotten themselves into. Forgotten during conversations, never invited to parties, but they still expected him to care for them. The worst part was that he did. He felt like the photographer in their grand group selfie and he was sick of it.
Eventually, just one person isn’t enough for him.
And that’s why a young man is walking through his front door, draped across Jinki’s arm. They both seem happy, the glasses of alcohol they shared earlier in the night lifting their spirits. Jinki suggests the man take a seat on the couch and he makes his way to the kitchen.
“Would you like something to drink, Minho?” Jinki calls out, head shoved in the open refrigerator.
“Yes, please.” Minho answers, and crosses his long legs, a bashful smile tugging at his lips. Neither of them did these sort of things often, but they found each other handsome, and they were both in need of companionship, so really, what was the harm in seeking solace in each others bodies for one night? That was what Minho told himself, until he was ripped from his thoughts when he sees something move in the corner of his eye. Was the coaster always that close to the edge of the table?he thinks.
He isn’t given much time to contemplate it before Jinki returns, a grin across his face and two wine glasses in his hands. They laugh and drink, slowly becoming more comfortable around each other, inching closer and closer on the couch until their thighs are touching. Minho looks down at their legs, and then up at Jinki’s dark, clouded eyes. He bites his lip, only for it to be covered by Jinki’s own, a hand caressing the back of his neck.
Jinki pushes Minho down onto his back, climbing on top of him and never once breaking the kiss. A whimper escapes Minho as Jinki presses their hips together, bucking slightly into the touch.
They moan into each other’s mouth and continue moving together, feeling the room heat up as their bodies grow warmer. A screeching noise cuts into Minho’s ears and he opens his eyes, turning them towards where the sound was coming from. His heart slams against his chest, and he pushes Jinki off of him, the elder’s eyebrows furrowing together. “What is it?” Jinki says, trying not to let his annoyance seep into his tone.
“Th - the…” Minho stammers, and points at their wine glasses. “It moved!”
“What moved?” Jinki questions, seeing nothing in the direction Minho was pointing in.
“The glass! I heard it! I saw it!” Minho says, not taking his gaze off the table for even a millisecond.
Jinki has to fight every urge not to roll his eyes. “Baby, I’m sure it was just your imagination…” He purrs, lowering his head down into the crook of Minho’s neck and kissing the tanned skin. “Would it make you feel better if we moved somewhere else? Hm?”
Minho forces his gaze away from the table and gives a slight nod despite his tight grasp on the fabric of the couch. Jinki kisses across his jaw to the skin underneath his ear, and Minho shudders at the light touches. Just as their lips were about to meet again, the television lights up, showcasing a man in a cloak peering at human brains. Minho yelps and visibly jumps, and even Jinki is shaken as well.
Jinki chuckles and gives Minho a reassuring smile. “I must be sitting on the remote.” He says, and shifts down the couch to search for the device. He’s barely been looking for three seconds before Minho is pointing to something in the distance behind Jinki. Jinki turns around and follows where Minho’s finger is pointing to; the remote, resting on the cushion of his lounge chair.
An unsure laugh bubbles out of Jinki’s lips, but Minho’s lips are set in a firm line, his already large eyes wide enough that Jinki could see his own reflection in them. Their shaken out of their respective moods as they both scream, the cabinets in the kitchen repeatedly flying open and banging shut, thundering in their eardrums.
Before Jinki realizes it, Minho is jumping off the couch, snatching his jacket off the hook on the wall and haphazardly slipping his shoes on. “Minho, wait!” Jinki calls out, only to be answered by the slamming of his own front door. The banging of the cabinets stops, but is replaced by another as Jinki stomps across his apartment into the kitchen, where Kibum is nonchalantly hovering over the counter.
“What the , Kibum.” Jinki seethes, balling his hands into fists at his sides. “What the actual is wrong with you?!”
“What’s wrong with me?” Kibum says, gesturing towards himself and scoffing. “What’s wrong with you ? Why are you bringing some stranger into our home without giving me some kind of warning?!”
“It’s not ing your home !” Jinki yells. “It may have been once but now it’s mine. ” The words taste bitter against his tongue, but he’s too angry to care at the moment. “If I want to bring someone home I can because this is my apartment and I can do whatever I damn well please!”
Jinki swears he sees Kibum’s face fall for a second before it’s replaced with a sneer full of rage. “Are you ing serious?!” He slowly begins rising towards the ceiling as he speaks. “I didn’t ing choose to die, you ! Where do expect me to go, huh?! You want me to go hide out in my parents place when they were too ing busy to even come to my funeral?! Or go stay with my grandma and watch her slowly die in that ing chair?!” Hot tears are streaming down his face now. “I hate you, just shut up and go away!” He spits out, and vanishes into the ceiling.
Jinki glares at the spot Kibum disappeared into before fuming back to the couch. It’s a good thing Kibum’s gone, he wanted this from the very beginning, he tells himself and slumps down on the cushions.
Kibum’s gone, so why can he still hear crying? He looks around out of suspicion, but of course there’s no one there. As a last resort, he presses his fingers against his cheek. He doesn’t understand why they’re wet when he pulls back.
“Yo, Jinki, you okay?” A hand waves back in forth in front of Jinki’s face, snapping him out of his trance. He turns to see his friend grinning from ear to ear in pure giddiness. “You’ve been staring at that bookcase for the past five minutes.” He laughs.
“Oh.” Jinki says dumbly and clears his throat. “Sorry Jonghyun, I didn’t sleep well.”
He knew that was a mistake to say as soon as it left his mouth and Jonghyun is practically jumping with joy in his seat. “Oh my god, did you…?” He makes an obscene gesture with his fingers and Jinki playfully smacks his shoulder.
“Almost.” Jinki chuckles, and picks up his pencil, attempting to drop the subject and go back to studying. Jonghyun, obviously unable to take a hint, nudges his arm and he sighs.
“What do you mean ‘almost’?” Jonghyun asks, leaning into Jinki’s personal space like a preschooler during storytime. “You either got laid or you didn’t, it’s not that difficult of a concept.”
“I didn’t, then.” Jinki says, pushing his textbook away now that he’s sure Jonghyun wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “I was going to get laid, but then I got yelled at, and getting called an can really kill your .”
Jonghyun snorts and leans back in his chair. “Yeah, I know how that goes.” Jinki waits for him to elaborate, but when he doesn’t, he raises his eyebrows at Jonghyun in a silent question. “Didn’t I tell you about how Taemin and I started dating?” Jonghyun asks. Jinki searches through his brain but comes up with nothing, shaking his head. “Oh. Guess the wound must’ve been too fresh for me to tell you about it at the time.” Jinki wants to believe that instead of what his mind is screaming at him, that Jonghyun forgot to tell him because it’s unimportant. Because he’s unimportant. Ignore it ignore it ignore it , he thinks.
“Well,” Jonghyun begins, folding his hands on top of his book, “back when we were just roommates, I texted him saying I was bringing a girl home and to leave the dorm room, right?” Jinki nods, and Jonghyun continues. “But when we got there, he was still in the dorm. So I tried to play it off, made us some drinks, sent Taemin signals to ing leave and what not. But when I went back to the couch, my date was gone, and Taemin was sitting there grinning like he just won the lottery.” He forces out a laugh. “He told her I was HIV+, can you believe that?” Instead of waiting for an answer, he presses on. “We yelled at each other for hours , and I ended up sleeping in a hotel that night. Course, while I was staying there, I realized the only reason I chose that girl was because she reminded me of Taemin. I’m sure you can figure out what happened next.”
Jinki pursed his lips in thought. “So...he did that because he liked you?”
Jonghyun laughs again. “Well yeah, we’ve been dating for two years now.” Jinki closes his textbook and places it under his arm, collecting his pencil and eraser with his other hand. “Where are you going?” Jonghyun questions, watching as Jinki’s back strides away from him.
“I have to see someone.” Jinki answers, even though he’s far out of earshot from Jonghyun.
He’s breathless when he stumbles through his apartment door, dropping his school supplies and forgetting to take his shoes off. “Kibum?” He calls out into the seemingly empty space. “Kibum?!”
“What do you want?” A muffled voice hits his ears, but he doesn’t know where it came from and Kibum is nowhere in sight.
“I want to see you.” He replies, fumbling around the apartment in hopes of finding the person he was looking for. Soon enough, he finds Kibum, curled up in a ball on his bed, arms wrapped around his legs. His head lifts when Jinki walks through the door and quickly shuffles off of the mattress.
“Sorry, I was just...it was, um…” Kibum stammers, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry.”
“Kibum.” Jinki breathes, slowly approaching the man in front of him, belatedly acknowledging all these characteristics of Kibum’s; his cat like eyes, his sharp cheekbones, the slope of his nose and his heart shaped lips. He was beautiful and Jinki never even realized. “I’m such an idiot.”
Kibum chuckles and leans back on the heels of his feet. “I already knew that. I’m surprised you didn’t.”
“So am I.” Jinki says, never once looking away from Kibum, even as the younger turns away shyly.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Kibum asks, and he’s sure if he still had blood rushing through his veins, it’d be creeping onto his cheeks.
Jinki doesn’t answer, only steps closer to Kibum until they’re inches apart. Kibum doesn’t back away, but doesn’t look up. “Do you like me?” Jinki whispers, and Kibum turns his head towards Jinki’s, blinking at him.
“What if I do?” Is Kibum’s only reply. And somehow, despite only knowing him for a short amount of time, despite their arguments, despite Jinki’s flaws, he knows exactly what that means, and leans forward, lips almost meeting. He stops himself, because what if that wasn’t what Kibum wants?
The thought is pushed out of his head when Kibum places his fingers underneath his chin, raising his lips to meet his own. It’s just a simple brush, but Jinki’s mind is already reeling, the same warm feeling from before igniting in his chest, and he wants more.
Kibum lets out a sound of surprise when Jinki presses a bit more firmly against his lips, but accommodates quickly by wrapping his arms around Jinki’s neck. The fire is hotter than it was before, it’s spreading more quickly than it did the first time and the smoke is so thick he can’t breathe, but he doesn’t care. He keeps moving his lips, savoring this feeling so he can always look back on this moment of agonizing bliss.
He doesn’t think about it when the pressure around his neck dissipates, he keeps kissing, until the lips kissing him back disappear as well. He opens his eyes, preparing himself to ask Kibum what was wrong, only to be met with a sight he never wanted to see; Kibum’s terrified face staring back at his, as if asking for help.
“Kibum?” Jinki says, followed by a cough that released more smoke. “What’s wrong?” He chokes out, and clutches his chest. God, it burned, but that wasn’t important right now.
“Jinki…” Kibum breathes out, and raises his hands in front of them. His fingers are falling apart, unraveling as if he were a doll made of yarn. They both watch in horror as the fabric of his skin is pulled apart, disappearing into the air like the residue of wood during a campfire. “Jinki!” He cries out again as it reaches his arms, and Jinki is paralyzed as he realizes the same thing is happening to his legs.
But what really makes Jinki’s soul plummet into his stomach is that he’s seen this before.
“You’re going to be free…” Jinki chokes out, and collapses onto his hands and knees, hacking out clouds of smoke. He still feels the fire alight in his chest, and it’s charring his heart, burning it into a crisp.
Kibum starts flailing what’s left of his arms and screams in frustration. “I don’t want this! Help me!” He yells as tears fall from his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Kibum…” Jinki crumples onto the floor, smoke still escaping with each shallow breath he takes. Kibum starts shaking with terror when his arms are completely disintegrated and the infection reaches his torso, now aware that his legs are gone too.
Jinki is too weak to look up when Kibum’s face disappears from existence, only hears his voice cut off as his mouth turns into ash, and that, too, dies in the stale air of their apartment.
The fire extinguishes by itself, just as sudden as it began, and Jinki curls up into into a ball, suddenly feeling very cold, even as the scorching tears roll down his cheeks.
Kibum’s purpose was never to apologize to his grandmother.
It was to teach Jinki how to love.
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