(Part of a much bigger story in which Minho's a doctor with poor luck involving cars, and Kibum's the mechanic who owns the garage Minho goes to.)
When Minho awoke the following morning, Kibum was gone.
He had made breakfast, however, and it was more delicious than Minho expected, a very pleasant surprise. A note beside the plate informed him that his car would be finished that evening. He could stop by after his shift.
Minho finished eating and went to the bathroom to shower. He backtracked and looked at his reflection. Bruises and fading pink scratch marks could be hidden beneath his scrubs, but high on his neck, just below his ear, sat a glowing red bruise, fresh as a morning glory.
He immediately stalked back to his bedroom and snatched his phone from the bedside table.
"Key's Garage," came the lazy greeting.
"What did you do?"
"Ah, good morning, Doctor!" the mechanic crowed. "Did you eat?"
"Yes, thank you, it was delicious, but on my NECK. . ."
Kibum blithely spoke over him. "I'm honestly surprised you didn't wake up. Part of you was up before I was, but I put it back to bed before leaving."
Minho's cheeks burned. He slept for three days, once, so exhausted and effectively dead to the world after chasing a soccer ball throughout the night with friends that he'd had no concept of time when he finally woke up.
But this was different.
"This is not appropriate for work, Kibum."
"Oh, quit your whining and just get some concealer."
"Or you can wear it proudly, like a badge of honour: I banged my mechanic. Although," he practically purred; Minho could feel the weight of that catty smirk through the phone, "I suppose this case would be more: My mechanic banged me."
Minho sighed and covered his face with his hand.
He bought concealer at a convenience store before work.