1 Work by beeviolet
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Summary
— i swear, i'm going to break this thing in half.
kibum, leaning his elbows on the sink for support while focusing intently on the objects in his hands, was frustrated. the small ampoule in his hand had no more than 1ml of the liquid, and yet he'd been fighting with the thing for 10 minutes - between the thick liquid and the syringe that, every time he pulled, the plunger would simply go back to the exact position it was before. he took a deep breath, straightened up (carefully, as to not contaminate the needle) and closed his eyes as to not snap.
— it's ok, sweetheart. no one's rushing you.
— i know, but no matter what i do, i can't get enough out. — he brought the syringe closer to their faces, looking at the lines on the barrel. — i only have... about half of what i need? and my fingers are getting oily and greasy because of the testosterone...
or,
kibum does his t-shot, and he has the most supportive boyfriend a person could ask for