rabenhorst | [fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – Resurgence

Title: Resurgence
Author:

fonulyn
Rating: NC17
Warnings: infidelity
Pairing: Minho/Key
Characters: Minho, Key, OCs
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Some mistakes can’t be avoided, even when they keep repeating over and over again. The thing is, Minho doesn’t even really want to avoid falling into the same old trap. That is what makes it Minho’s biggest mistake. What makes him Minho’s biggest mistake.
Comments: third part! I was supposed to post this yesterday but life happened. now I’m getting sick, cuddling under a blanket drinking tea, so I figured it’d be a good moment to post :3

Previous: Part I Part II

It’s only a few days later when Kibum breaks the careful truce they’ve managed to build. Minho has stayed behind in the office to work on a project he knows has to be ready by the next morning. It only lacks the polishing touches when he decides to get a cup of strong coffee to keep himself awake. It tastes heavenly, the strong flavour shooting right through him and he spends a good moment in the little kitchenette, leaning against the counter enjoying his drink.

Inexplicably, these are moments Minho has always enjoyed. Overworked and tired to the bone, maybe, but when he then gets to have a break and just enjoy the silence surrounding him in the empty building... that’s always when he wishes the moment would go on just a little bit longer still. Absent-mindedly he waters the single plant in the room and then finishes the second cup of coffee, flipping through the day’s newspaper.

By the time he steps back into the adjoined office he feels completely relaxed, ready to tackle the last obstacles for the night.

What he doesn’t expect is he’s got a visitor.

Kibum is standing in the middle of the room, a few steps away from the big oak desk. He’s been growing out his hair lately and now it’s cut angularly, the other side of his fringe longer and covering his eye now that he has his head tilted down. There is something tentative in his whole posture and although Minho’s first instinct is to run, he hesitates and instead clears his throat.

At the sound, Kibum looks up, almost startled. “I thought you left.” He speaks softly, the words dropping, one by one, into the silence around them that seems to mute everything.

At first Minho doesn’t answer but instead moves closer, steps across the plush carpet until he’s standing only an arm’s length away from Kibum. It seems to make Kibum startle as he turns his head away again, only showing his side-profile. There’s a shadow on his face and it makes something twist in Minho’s gut. Kibum seems to be shaken and he has to find out why.

Minho’s voice is so soft it’s barely audible. “Why are you here?”

“I’m...” Kibum begins, but that’s as far as he gets. Before Minho manages to react Kibum’s mouth is hot on his, the kiss a notch more desperate than usual. It almost makes Minho melt into it, almost distracts him enough to forget what’s on his mind, almost makes him play by Kibum’s rules again.

Almost.

Kibum makes a disagreeing noise in the back of his throat as Minho pulls back from the kiss and doesn’t let him initiate another one. He diverts his eyes down though when he notices what Minho is looking at, tries to hide behind the long fringe of his now multicoloured hair. It’s of no use, Minho isn’t going to give up and he brings a hand up to gently touch the skin right below the purpling bruise.

“What happened to you?” Minho asks. He hates himself for the neediness that’s laced in his tone, for the weakness he’s displaying since it’s more than clear he harbours more feelings than he’s allowed to. Kibum flinches away from him and Minho isn’t sure if it’s because the touch hurts or because of the words. He knows he’s crossing a line.

Kibum doesn’t meet his eyes and the only answer he gives is a low murmur. “Nothing.” He slides his palms up Minho’s sides, his fingertips scratching lightly, and leans in to kiss him.

Only that Minho dodges the last second. “No, Kibum. Tell me.” There’s a part of him that reacts with anger, that demands compensation and wants to get vengeance, that wants him to go out there and kill that son of a bitch who did this. There’s another part that wants to cradle Kibum in his arms and never let him go. The rational part that screams for him to leave, right now, it’s not your problem, is sternly ignored.

”Fine!” Kibum spits. There’s fury in his eyes and when he snaps his head up the hair falls to the side, revealing another bruise, an even bigger one. It reaches across his cheek up to the corner of his eye, the skin around it slightly swollen and definitely reddened. “Be that way. I’m going”

He already spins around but Minho’s hand is quick on his arm to stop him. “No, please Kibum.” Minho pulls gently and to his surprise he isn’t met with much resistance as he brings Kibum’s body against his own, sneaks his arms around him to keep him trapped. “Was it him?”

Kibum doesn’t answer. He averts his eyes to the side, studying the patterns of the carpet, and not a single word spills from his lips.

That is what makes Minho snap. ”That fucker. He has no reason to!” He’s frustrated, more than that, he’s enraged that things have come to this. The only thing that has kept him even remotely calm about the arrangements between Kibum and his boss is that he knows the man adores Kibum to bits, always does everything he can to keep him happy. Now, that has obviously changed.

Minho tries to plead, his fingers gentle on Kibum’s chin as he makes him turn to him, look at him. “He has no right to hurt you.”

“Yes, he does!” Kibum says, the anger back in his eyes. He doesn’t make a move to struggle away, completely still in Minho’s embrace even though he’s not returning it. “He fucking does!” He repeats fiercely. Minho is just about to argue when Kibum goes on quickly, almost hastily. “I said the wrong name, okay. We were in bed, he had me bent over and he made me come, so hard. And I,” he swallows, “said the wrong name.”

Minho is frozen in place. He doesn’t even dare to assume anything. Not before Kibum breathes out one more word.

“Yours.”

This changes nothing.

In a way, everything is different after that confession, after Minho simply holds Kibum close until it feels like they’ve merged together. Nothing else happens that night. Kibum seems to be reluctant to detach from Minho but he finally does and leaves without a word. He’s back the next day, and the next, until Minho doesn’t even find it strange when he gets cornered for a brief embrace or simply a fleeting touch.

In the ways that matter, though, nothing is different. At first Minho tries to talk Kibum into leaving with him, only to be faced with the same snappy answers he received the first time. Kibum clams up and refuses to explain why, hiding behind the fact that Minho can’t provide him quite as luxurious living as he gains with the current arrangement. It never feels like the complete truth to Minho but no amount of prying gets him anywhere.

For the first two weeks Minho expects his boss to walk in any day just to fire him. After all, he’s interfered in what is considered the man’s property, the man’s possession, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he was kicked out of the company for that. But nothing happens. Day after day, the boss acts as if nothing happened, treats Minho exactly like he used to treat him before.

It makes no sense. Minho wants to ask if Kibum understands the situation any more but he doesn’t dare to, afraid to make the other man retreat from him again. In the end he accepts things as they are and doesn’t question, lulled into a sense of security.

Slowly things slide back to the routine, back to how everything was before. Sometimes, Minho sees hints of bruises Kibum has tried to cover with just enough concealer to avoid being suspicious. He never says anything. Sometimes, Minho watches Kibum sleep when they share a hotel room, when the other man passes out before him. It’s those moments of serenity he always thinks back to, remembers how they make him wish he would know more about the enigma that is Kibum.

Maybe Minho imagines it, but he could swear there are more of those nights when they end up sleeping right next to one another. He feels there are more of those moments that hold certain tenderness, more than before. Yet he doesn’t dare to assume anything.

He knows it won’t matter anyway. He knows Kibum has made up his mind.

“When are you going to come home to meet her?”

Minho is silent for a good while. It’s not that he hasn’t heard his mother’s question. He simply doesn’t know what to answer.

Finally, he clears his throat. “I have a day off next week. Is Thursday good?”

“Thursday is perfect!” She sounds so relieved Minho almost feels guilty. “You’re going to love her, I promise.”

Of that, Minho isn’t so certain. But he smiles and switches on the perfectly polite tone as he bids his mother goodbye.

Maybe he owes his parents this, to do what they wish, for once.

Maybe he owes himself this. Maybe it’s the only way to let go.

Kibum’s skin is warm against Minho’s where their shoulders touch. It’s almost too warm but Minho can’t bring himself to shift further away, not when he’s still lingering in the pleasant aftermath. It’s one of those rare moments when he can just pretend this is all fine, everything is well. His chest is heaving with ragged breaths but he stops inhaling completely when suddenly there’s an arm thrown over him.

When Kibum presses right there against his side, he doesn’t even really notice how it’s too hot, how he’s almost suffocating in the heat. He simply returns the favour and sneaks his arm around Kibum’s shoulders, pulls him close.

This is something they never had before. Not until the past few weeks. And it makes Minho question what he’s about to do.

“I’m getting married.” Minho startles at the sound of his voice, rough around the edges and hoarse, like ripped from his throat. He doesn’t even know what made him say that now, at a moment like this, when he for once felt content and appreciated. Like he’s enough.

He can feel Kibum stiffen against him, every muscle tense, and for a second he expects yelling and screaming, accusations and arguing.

It never comes.

Instead Kibum takes a deep breath and buries his face into the crook of Minho’s shoulder. “Okay.”

Okay.

Minho doesn’t think that a single word has ever hurt this much. He closes his eyes and focuses on the warm puffs of air Kibum breathes against his skin, on the smooth skin against his own. He traces a pattern on Kibum’s shoulder and hopes, against all reason, that in the morning everything would be different.

At dawn Kibum is gone.

It becomes a regular occurrence for Minho to visit his parents every week for the next few months. Every time, he meets his soon-to-be-wife, gets to know her a little bit more.

She is pleasant. That’s how Minho would describe her if anyone asked. She’s nice, she’s pretty, she’s soft-spoken and clever, she’s stylish and has enough backbone to stand up for herself. She’s everything a woman should be, as if someone took the checklist of the ingredients to a good wife and made sure to mark every single one.

They agree she will take care of the wedding plans, while he will provide the needed funding for it. It seems like a good enough deal. At least it works. Minho doesn’t think he could live through hours of picking flowers and suitable music, anyway.

Minho’s wedding is nothing memorable. Not to him, at least. He repeats his vows like he’s supposed to, smiles at his bride and treats her like the perfect gentleman. There are flowers and cake, decorations so pompous he knows for sure his mother picked most of them. There are relatives, most of them unwanted, polite handshaking and bows, the whole set.

They both know it’s not a marriage out of love, and Minho is grateful about that. He has no issues being polite and nice to her, and he tries his best to like her more each day. He hopes it will be enough, one day.

Even if Minho doesn’t love his wife he doesn’t want to insult or hurt her, either. After that night, after he told Kibum he was to be married, he hasn’t seen the other man, not in private. He still sees Kibum pass his office but there’s never any eye-contact, there are never any words exchanged. Kibum treats him like air and he returns the favour, not knowing what else to do.

Even if Minho hasn’t touched Kibum in months, he still remembers every single curve, every mark and scar, every dip of his body.

He still dreams of him.

---
(2154 words)

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so another breakup… their story is one big roller coaster so don’t get lulled into false sense of security, it goes from angst to fluff in seconds, lmao.

I do hope you’re enjoying it :) and I hope the next update won’t take me so long!

[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – Resurgence – Chapter 3/8

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