Him

Once those eyes met his, he knew. Oh, how he knew. But he wouldn't speak, dare not say a single word. His heart was pounding in his chest, the constant thumps resonating in his ears.
His first thought was to run, forget it all, make it all seem a simple dream. But those dark orbs sucked him in, leaving him paralyzed in place. There, leaning at the edge of his door, the door to his room, was the tall male with determination in his gaze. He kicked back from the door and slowly began walking towards Kibum. The slightly older boy knew what this meant.
His self-served destruction would end, because he was there. Him. The other half of his heart belonged to this man. For what seemed to be a second, he let happiness overpower him as he imagined how those arms would gently wrap around his frame, lips whispering loving nonsense into his ear, how everything would finally seem right.
But fear began to flourish in his soul, break every dream of the near future. Fear seeped through and out into the open air, reflected in every tear that would dawn on his cheeks. His mind played games on him, starting with the most recent; 'what if?'. 'What if' he leaves him? 'What if' he discovers Kibum isn't worth losing his career? 'What if' the band breaks down because of this "phase"? 'What if?', 'What if?', 'What if?'.
He cried with every question. He cried with every answer he'd give himself. He cried when Minho's body shifted closer. He cried when those eyes looked into his and he cried when those hands, those oh so soft hands, wiped away the freshly fallen tears. And he broke when those lips touched his.