In Lines Of Love ~ Kimchay

28. Bruised Hearts

The small room was suffused with tension, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic and sweat. Kimhan sat on a worn wooden chair, shirtless, his torso marred with bruises and cuts.

Blood still seeped faintly from one particularly deep gash along his side. Despite it all, he had the audacity to smile-a faint, lopsided grin as he watched Porchay crouched before him, tears streaming down his face.

Porchay's hands trembled as he cleaned the wounds, his hiccups breaking the silence. "You're such a fucking idiot," he muttered, his voice thick with barely contained anger. His small hands dabbed at a jagged cut near Kim's ribs with a cloth soaked in warm water.

"Maybe," Kim replied, wincing slightly but refusing to let the pain show on his face. "But I'm your idiot."

"Shut up!" Porchay snapped, his voice cracking. His tears fell faster, smudging the edges of his cheeks and landing on Kim's skin. "You don't get to joke about this. You don't-" He paused to sniffle, swiping furiously at his running nose with his sleeve. "You could've died, Kim. You-You don't even care!"

Kim's grin faltered, replaced by something softer. He leaned forward slightly, his voice quiet but firm. "I do care, Chay. I-"

"No, you don't!" Porchay interrupted, his voice trembling as he glared at Kim with tear-soaked eyes. "If you cared, you wouldn't keep throwing yourself into these fights like this!" His hands hovered over Kim's chest as if afraid to touch him, afraid to hurt him more. "Do you even think about me? About what it would do to me if you-if you-"

Porchay's voice broke into a sob, and he buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook as he cried, the sound raw and unrestrained.

Kim's chest tightened, guilt creeping into his expression. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against Porchay's hair. "Chay..."

Porchay jerked away from the touch, his tear-streaked face snapping up to meet Kim's gaze. "Don't touch me," he said, his voice shaking. "You don't get to comfort me when you're the one who makes me feel like this."

The words hit Kim like a punch to the gut, but he didn't flinch. Instead, he nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Porchay's. "You're right," he said softly. "I don't get to. But I'm still here. And I'm sorry."

Porchay stared at him for a moment, his lips trembling as fresh tears welled in his eyes. "You're such a jerk," he whispered. "Do you know how scared I was? When you didn't come back on time-when they said you were hurt-" His voice cracked again, and he shook his head, wiping at his face with trembling hands. "I thought I lost you."

Kim's expression softened, and he reached out again, more firmly this time. He cupped Porchay's face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears streaking his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice low and steady. "For scaring you. For being reckless."

Porchay sniffled, his nose red and his eyes puffy. "You always say that," he muttered. "But you never stop."

Kim hesitated, his jaw tightening. "I'll try," he said finally.

Porchay let out a weak, bitter laugh. "Yeah, sure. You'll try."

"I mean it," Kim said, his voice firm now. "I'll try, Chay. For you."

Porchay searched his face, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to discern whether Kim was lying. After a long moment, he sighed and shook his head. "You're impossible."

Kim smiled faintly. "I've been called worse."

Porchay rolled his eyes but didn't pull away as Kim continued to hold his face. His tears had slowed, though his sniffles remained. "You're still bleeding, you know," he said, his voice softer now.

Kim glanced down at the gash on his side. "Looks worse than it feels."

Porchay frowned, his hands coming up to gently push Kim's away. "Stop moving. Let me finish."

"Yes, sir," Kim said with a small smirk, leaning back obediently.

Porchay huffed but didn't respond. He grabbed the antiseptic cream and carefully spread it over the wounds, his touch light but precise. Despite his earlier tears, his hands were steady now, his focus unwavering.

Kim watched him work, his gaze softening as Porchay's brows knitted in concentration. The younger man's lips were pressed into a thin line, his cheeks still damp with drying tears.

"You're cute when you're mad," Kim said suddenly, his tone light.

Porchay froze, his eyes snapping up to glare at Kim. "Shut up," he said, his voice sharp. But the faint pink creeping into his cheeks betrayed him.

Kim chuckled, the sound low and warm. "I'm serious. Even when you're yelling at me, you're-ow!" He winced as Porchay pressed a little too hard on one of the bandages.

"That's what you get for being annoying," Porchay muttered, though his touch immediately softened.

Kim grinned despite the sting. "Fair enough."

When Porchay finished with the cream, he reached for the roll of bandages. He worked in silence, wrapping the fabric carefully around Kim's torso. His tears had stopped completely now, though his sniffles and occasional hiccups lingered.

Kim stayed quiet this time, letting Porchay work without interruption. He could see the tension in the younger man's shoulders, the way his jaw clenched as he focused on the task at hand.

When Porchay finally tied off the last bandage, he sat back on his heels with a heavy sigh. "There," he said, his voice quieter now. "All done."

Kim smiled, leaning forward slightly. "Thanks, doc."

Porchay rolled his eyes but didn't pull away as Kim reached out to cup his face again. "You're ridiculous," he muttered.

"And you're adorable," Kim countered, his thumb brushing over Porchay's cheek. His voice softened. "You were really worried about me, huh?"

Porchay glared at him half-heartedly. "Of course I was, you idiot."

Kim's smile widened, though it was tinged with guilt. "I'm sorry," he said again, his voice sincere.

Porchay's glare softened, and he sighed. "You better be," he muttered.

Kim leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Porchay's forehead. Then his cheek. Then the corner of his mouth. "I really mean it, Chay," he murmured. "I'll try to do better. For you."

Porchay's lips trembled, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned into Kim's touch, his hands coming up to grip Kim's wrists. "You promise?" he whispered.

"I promise," Kim said, his voice steady.

Porchay stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Good," he said, his voice barely audible.

Kim smiled and pulled him into a hug, ignoring the flare of pain in his ribs. Porchay clung to him tightly, burying his face in Kim's shoulder.

Porchay huffed softly, a weak attempt at a laugh. "You're lucky I love you."

Kim's heart skipped a beat, and he tightened his arms around Porchay. "I'm lucky you're mine," he said softly.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, the tension in the room slowly melting away.

Eventually, Porchay pulled back, his eyes red but determined. "You're going to bed," he said firmly.

Kim raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. "Yes, sir," he said playfully.

Porchay rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at his lips. "Idiot," he muttered, but there was no heat in the word.

Kim chuckled as Porchay helped him to his feet, his arm slung carefully over Porchay's shoulder. As they made their way to the bedroom, Kim glanced down at Porchay, his heart full despite the lingering pain in his body.

He knew he didn't deserve Porchay-not really. But he also knew he'd do whatever it took to keep him.