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He smiles an unwavering smile. A gloss for his faltering heart. The ache behind his ribs is almost unbearable as he listens and fiddles with the red festive paper cup clasped between his palms.
It crumples.
“I’m so glad, Min! So glad that I finally got the chance to tell you about this. it’s been difficult keeping this to myself.”
The shards of something insubstantial yet heavy lodge in Minho’s throat when he tries to swallow. It aches. Kibum laughs lightheartedly, haltingly, and sips his spiced pumpkin latte.
He’s so happy. Minho can feel it rolling of him in waves. He’s glowing.
“I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to finally admit it to anyone…to myself, even.” Kibum murmurs, grinning like a man infatuated.
Like a man in love.
His eyes are transparent with it when his gaze flickers up to meet Minho’s own. Kibum is soft and warm and beautiful in the evening light.
Minho immediately shifts his attention back to his misshapen cup.
“I really do like him, Min. He’s…everything. Everything I ever wanted. An idiot sometimes, sure, but I think— I think I love him,” Kibum giggles, “isn’t that crazy?”
Everything I ever wanted.
The words cut like glass.
Laugh, Minho thinks. Be happy.
But he’s afraid to try, fearing that any sound he makes might reveal the depth of his pain.
Just smile, then.
Kibum gasps, turns away - the small query in his expression dissolving into joy as he gestures to the window like an excited child.
its snowing.
”I’m so happy,” Kibum murmurs, “so happy today. Thank you for being here. I know it’s cheesy but—“
Minho listens as well as he can while Kibum pours his heart out. He tries to nudge the numb static of his brain far enough to fill his chest; to buffer him from himself so he can get through the next hour with a scrap of dignity.
With his lie preserved.
He smiles again. “I’m happy you’re happy, ‘Bummie. You deserve to be happy. Always.”
Kibum sips his coffee and watches him over the rim of his mug.
Outside the snow starts falling harder. It’s magical. Really, it is.
Soon enough they will leave the café to beat the traffic.
And once he’s finally alone in his car, Minho will allow himself to cry over Kibum. Because, once alone, it will suddenly be a little too much to bear. A little too surreal. With the world turning white and black and amber halos gleaming around the streetlights.
He knows it will be cathartic to weep, so he will. He plans on it. And then he will drive home in silence, ready for a bad night’s sleep.
Ready to start over again come morning.
But for now, he smiles...because Kibum deserves that much. He deserves a happiness untainted.
He always has.