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Summary
"Let me help you, Kyungmin-ah," Hanjin whispers. It feels heavy in the almost silence, only the faint buzzing of the air conditioning and Kyungmin's deep pants to placate it. Hanjin lets the words linger for a second, then two. Flicks his eyes down to Kyungmin's lips, watches the way drool pools at his chin like he's helpless. Then:
"You don't have to do this alone."
Kyungmin burns. The sincerity in his voice hurts more than the heat cramps crawling through his abdomen, lighting his nerves on fire and leaving his legs aching. It hurts more than this shameful feeling of failure, like he's done something wrong, when really, he's done nothing at all. It cuts deep, through his skin, through his tendon, right to the bone. Until he’s raw and open and aching.
Or: Kyungmin goes into heat. Hanjin helps him through it, the only way he knows how.