OUR OWN ENDING [KimChay Stories Compilation]

NICOTINE & MORPHINE

Chay is a medical student who always tends to the wounds of a music major delinquent, Kim. Is Chay helping Kim out of the goodness of his heart or is it already something else? 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A loud banging on his apartment door woke up Chay in the middle of the night. He jolted himself awake, sitting up immediately as the banging continued. "What? What? What? What's happening?" he mumbled to himself, clearly still half asleep. He glanced at the digital clock on his bedside table. It's 3:11 in the fucking morning. Who the fuck... Chay let out a frustrated groan. He might have a hunch of who it might be.

The knocking on his door doesn't stop. Chay shuffled to get up from his bed, almost tripping himself to the floor. "Wait up!" he shouted and he nearly ran towards the door. Once he opened it, the wafting scent of nicotine lingered in the air. Chay sighed in annoyance. "Again, Kimhan? It's your fifth time this month." he reprimanded.

Standing in front of him is Kimhan Theerapanyakul who is covered in blood all over his body. He smiled tiredly at Chay, his body leaning against the doorframe and casually smoking his cigarette. "My favorite doctor is here," he said almost breathlessly.

Chay rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, "I'm not a doctor yet, Kim." he rebutted. "And I told you to stop smoking, right?" he added. Chay always reminded Kim how smoking is bad for him. Also, he hated the scent of it.

The nicotine in his system felt good. The smoke infiltrating his lungs felt good. Kim needed it after all he had been through throughout the night. "Sorry, Doctor. Stressful time," he replied and threw away his half-smoked cigarette somewhere. He could have smoked more. He could have finished the whole stick, but Chay doesn't like it. He doesn't want to piss his favorite doctor, does he?

Chay checked Kim from head to toe. There were a few cuts and wounds on his face and body, but nothing serious. He is still not sure, though. He might have a worse injury than Chay has seen yet. Also, the sight put him over the edge. Chay might hide it, but he can't deny that he is extremely worried for Kim. "Mafia stuff?" he asked, his voice gentler this time.

Kim nodded in response. He was heaving and was supporting himself by the doorframe. He felt tired. Running away from his enemies is not as easy as it seems, especially if it's a 3-mile run. He had his heavy-ass guitar bag with him that, obviously, didn't make his escape way easier. Thanks to the stars, he managed to lose those men who were chasing him and got to Chay's apartment for help. Oh, stars. He thanked the universe for Chay. He was always thankful for Chay.

Chay bit his lip and stepped aside—letting Kim enter his apartment, his guitar bag dragging along behind him. "Be careful what you touch. I just cleaned the whole apartment. I don't want your blood to get all over them." he said to him as he took out his medical kit from the kitchen. This was only meant for emergencies, but Kim always happens. Kim is the emergency. He barely even knew when he used this for himself. It felt like he had this just for Kim.

Kim laughed weakly as he slowly settled himself on Chay's sofa. He knew Chay didn't mean what he said. He always spills blood—either his or not—on Chay's sofa. "They're easy to clean, Doctor. I've been saying that to you multiple times," he claimed.

Chay stilled for a moment. Doctor. That god damned nickname. It was a simple nickname for his future profession, yet it always made his heart flutter when it wasn't supposed to. He hates this feeling. He cleared his throat, "Yeah, sure. Just like you when told me that it's your guitar that was inside of that bag of yours when in fact, it is not." he sarcastically said. Kim used his guitar bag to hide and bring his weapons with him. Insane—they both know that. He heard a low chuckle from Kim. Chay clucked his lips as he sat beside Kim. "Let me see your wounds," he said.