"People hating me doesn't faze me. People loving me...that would be concerning."
A group of criminals with supernatural powers are getting ready for the biggest heist of their lives, but for it to work they need Kimhan the Executioner.
However, it'...
— he holds me close, and how can I think that anything else matters if this is all that I have been dreaming of? —
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Kim pressed himself on Chay more; so much so that he made Chay stumble and hit the wall—but not too hard, Kim made sure to cushion the impact by holding Chay close to him while his other hand hit the wall first. Chay let out a surprised gasp as his back hit the wall but didn't pay much attention to it. It was hard to pay much attention to anything when Kim was kissing him so lovingly and so deeply that it was turning Chay's body into a mess of moans and quiet pleasured hums. Chay's hands were resting comfortably around Kim's neck, but he moved one a little higher, his fingers tangling into the silky hair, which Chay loved to feel under his fingertips any chance he got. He tugged on the hair slightly, just a little bit, just to tease Kim—make him smile into the kiss. And it worked; with his eyes closed, Chay could feel Kim's lips curve into a smile, Kim's breath tickling his skin as Kim whispered, "I remember us. I remember." And then he kissed him again, and then he whispered softly "I love you," and sealed it with another kiss, "I love you," and then again, and again, and Chay wished for it to last forever because, for a brief time, he lived in a reality where he thought that he had lost all of this. That he would never again feel that weight of Kim's body on his that felt like home. That he would never again be kissed as if nothing in the world mattered more than him. That he would never feel their heartbeats sinking into one rhythm with their bodies being close. That Kim would never look at him so tenderly that it always made Chay feel like his heart was too big for his own body. That he would never again be called Sparky, knowing that it was something sacred—something only Kim would ever call him. Something that belonged only to them.
"Sparky," Kim pressed his lips to Chay's cheek, leaving there gentle kisses, "don't cry, please. We are okay. I'm here. I love you—love you so fucking much."
Chay didn't realize that he was crying, but now when Kim pointed it out and he could feel hot tears falling down on his cheeks, it was like everything inside of him burst open and he finally could let all his emotions flow freely. He just wanted to cry until he wouldn't be able to cry anymore. Until his eyes would lose all the tears and his soul would feel lighter—just like a cloud after a heavy storm.
He wrapped his arms tightly around Kim and sobbed as he nuzzled his face into the crook of Kim's neck. He felt safe there—felt loved. "I thought that I lost you. I'm sorry—I'm sorry for leaving you out there with him."
Kim shook his head, and slowly, holding Chay close, he sat down on the floor— Chay curled up in his lap, "we are not gonna blame ourselves, okay, Sparky? It's not your fault and it's not mine either."
"Kinn," Chay said, and when he did—his tears started pouring faster as if that name had become a trigger for bad memories now. "It's his fucking fault!"
Kim hummed, caressing Chay's hair, and gently rocking both of their bodies back and forth, "we'll talk about him when you feel better."
"I'm sorry," Chay mumbled, his body shaking from crying as he held Kim tightly. His Kim.
