voile devant les yeux

— Give me your hand, I'll help, — Jisung pleads with him, hoping Minho doesn't collapse on the way to the bathroom. — I'll do it myself. You think I don't remember the way? I can still see something, — Lee says stubbornly. He doesn't want self-pity, not from Jisung. — Well, Minho! — Han swears at Minho, who has run into the doorframe. He hisses and rubs his forehead, stepping back a few steps, and rests against the guy’s chest. He's not used to his new condition yet. He has to learn elementary things quickly and stop relying too much on the eyes that can barely see. After a minor accident where Minho suffered a concussion, his vision began to deteriorate. He went for multiple examinations, but the doctors said one thing: at best, he would only see ten percent. He would have to learn to rely on his other senses. — Minho, please, — Jisung almost cries. It pained him to see the agony of the man he loved. Even though Lee tried his best to hide the pain of his own pity. Recently, Lee was finally released from the hospital. During the time he'd spent in rehab, Jisung had been eating himself up inside. He spent every spare second mentally going back to that day, trying to figure out how to prevent the accident. The driver of the passenger car had suddenly felt ill, and because of that he had unexpectedly swerved into the oncoming lane. Jisung reacted too late out of fear, and Minho, who was sleeping in the passenger seat, could not help him. You should have turned the steering wheel a little to the left, right? Or turned onto another road not far from the unfortunate spot? He seemed to be living out whatever plot his broken brain could come up with. But you can't change the past, you have to live for today and rejoice in the survivor Minho. — Jisung, don't, —he mumbled, his head drooping, and he swallowed a nasty lump in his throat. He wants to hide his despair, but Han can see through it. And it makes him sick to his stomach. — You'd better help me wash up properly, because I couldn't do it in this damn hospital. Jisung just hums, puts his arm around he's shoulders and leads in the right direction like a little kid. They walk into the bathroom and Jisung turns on the light. While Lee rustles his clothes, he adjusts the hot water. It's awkward to look at a naked Minho when he can't see anything. He climbs into the tub and exhales blissfully. A thick steam envelops his exhausted body. Minho has lost a lot of weight, bones protruding in some places, especially his ribs. But Jisung is sure that Lee will not waste any time. He will definitely take care of his body, get it back to normal. He throws head back and rests hands on the handrail. He closes his eyes tiredly - his brown hair has grown in and is in the way, poking into his eyes. It's time for a haircut. Jisung kneels down and runs his hands through Minho's hair, massaging his scalp. He sinks into his thoughts, not keeping track of time. In the silence, the occasional splash of water and Minho's quiet breathing turns to a measured sniffle. This month of rehab had taken its toll on both of them. A long month of worries and lack of good thoughts about their future together. But both of them survived this difficult ordeal, stayed by each other's side and continue to love as much as their shaken hearts allow. Minho mooed something and opened his eyes. Han has managed to doze off, leaning on his cheek. He jumps up and his heart beats fast, fast. — I'm tired of lying down, I'm going to dissolve here and go down the drain. Come on, my sore lover, help me wash my head at least, — it seemed that no situation could erase his sarcasm from Lee. Well, at least he continues to genuinely laugh and smile. Otherwise, Han would have dragged him to a psychologist at the first opportunity. Jisung massages the shampoo onto Lee's head, who moans in pleasure. As if the head massage wasn't enough for him before. He tries not to look at his naked body, feeling uncomfortable for some reason. As if he hadn't seen him naked almost every day before. Minho rises and grunts, complaining about his back. He reaches out a wet hand to Jisung, who grasps it and tries to get his bearings. Droplets of long-cold water drip down his flushed body, running between his muscles. Lee pulls the towel over his hips, already grasping at Jisung willy-nilly. Still deciding not to bring him to it at first, until he gets used to it. — Han-ah, — Minho called him softly. He only called him that when he was planning to do something wrong. Jisung prayed inwardly that Minho wouldn't hurt himself more. Minho is like a little kid. He's too unpredictable and childish in some places. He's always pranking and playing pranks. He laughs loudly and is not shy about his open actions. It seemed as if Minho and the concept of shyness were antonyms. He's very difficult to deal with, yet so easy... — Give me a hug, please. I'm freezing, I'm cold. And you're warm, you're so hot, — he said with a smile in his voice. Jisung was sure there was a smirk playing on Lee's lips. Han turns to him and exhales heavily. Lee spreads his arms out to the sides as if inviting him into his embrace. His body is still wet. Jisung only smiles sadly and rakes Lee into his arms. His clothes get wet instantly, but Han doesn't pay attention. Only rests his hands on his back and rests his chin on his shoulder. Minho smells pleasantly of shampoo and shaving foam. Closes his eyes and enjoys the silence. Minho is literally hanging on to him. He clutches at his clothes and is afraid of falling down, losing his balance. The calm is broken by a strangled sob. Jisung flinches, instantly pulling away from him, wrapping his arms around his face. He tries to see something in the face across from him. All he sees are tightly compressed lips and clenched eyes. — Hey, what are you doing? — Minho whispers and rubs his cheeks with his thumbs. Minho opens his eyes, trying to see something. Blurred, he sees Jisung, his face concerned. Before, Minho would have been able to stare at him for hours without getting quite close. Immerse himself in those eyes. Counting the lashes. Watching the rays of the setting sun play with the iris, resulting in a soft brown hue. Stroking his favorite mole on his cheek. Rubbing his cheeks, recognizing which one is softer. Talking earnestly about how handsome Jisung is, looking into his eyes. He won't be able to look at him from afar anymore. Would only see an indistinct blur that remotely resembled his favorite person until he got very close to him. The sudden realization of this knocks a chuckle out of Lee. It's okay. Like it makes his life so much harder. But it still makes his heart prickle. Minho reaches for Jisung's lips. He gasps in surprise, but doesn't push him away. He presses himself against the wall, wraps his arms around Han's face, and deepens the kiss. All the air goes out of Jisung. He gasps when Han tickles him behind his ear. He presses his head into his shoulders like a cat. Teasingly runs his tongue over his lips. Cries out when their teeth collide. Lee laughs at the intensity. Bites his chin, his nose, his earlobe. Giggles when he hears an indignant "Stop biting me! In that case, go eat!". He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to suppress the laughter that comes out. Maybe he's hurt his head so badly that now he wants to laugh for no good reason. Suddenly feels the towel loosen on her thighs, and afterward it falls to the floor. He looked up at Jisung, who flapped his eyes innocently and put his hand back behind his back. As if he hadn't just done something wrong. — What's that all about? — Minho asks calmly, tilting his head to the side and getting close enough to see his face clearly. He plays dumb, as if he doesn't understand the obvious implication. Jisung only smirks slightly and kisses Minho again, more confidently. He runs his hands all over his body, feeling Lee start to freeze and shake from the cold. Jisung drags Minho into the room, tipping him onto the bed and hearing a strangled "ouch" in response. Hovering over Minho's contented face. He reaches out to him and closes his eyes, plunging Lee into darkness. Unusual sensations. At all. He hears Han rustling around, looking for something. He must have found it. Because instead of a hand, Minho now has a blindfold, blocking his access to light. Minho arches his eyebrows at this trickery, but says nothing against it. He wonders what will come of it. Now every touch doubly burns, bringing instant goosebumps. For now he had no control over the situation. Not even his own body. The mere thought of being at the mercy of Jisung makes him dizzy. Minho is completely disoriented. Jisung just stares at Minho, who is so open and vulnerable to him. He doesn't even know where to begin. He stalls for time, watching for reactions. Minho flinches and tenses at any rustle. He props himself up on his elbows, trying to listen and see where Han is. He flinches when he feels lips on his neck, covering him with kisses. The touch is scalding. Minho leans back on the bed and Jisung settles on his hips. Jisung's tongue touches his earlobe and Lee moans, his whole body shaking. The room grows stuffy. His head was spinning from such light, yet insistent touches on his body. Lee now felt like he could get aroused by even one soft and gentle kiss. He really missed all the warmth that Jisung could give him. — Don't do that again, — Lee whispers. But they both realize he's freaking the hell out. Jisung guides his hand along his entire body, lightly scratching his skin with his fingernails. Touching him and Minho gasped. Gentle touches and a slight electric charge that ran through his body. Moaning when Jisung squeezes harder, speeding up. Fingers clench into a fist and breathing quickens. Pleasant sensations cloud the mind. His skin is on fire, but Jeison keeps quiet. Doesn't want to hurt him, so he restrains himself. He knows how sensitive Minho is. He gets turned on by any touch that might make him uncomfortable. Minho doesn't like all the dirty words that he thinks fucked-up people like to say in the process. Minho can't understand the look on Jisung's face, what he's doing at all, or how he's looking at him. Han leans towards him and leaves a light kiss on his forehead, whispering something softly. Something that touches Minho's heart. Makes it jump out of his chest and run away, leaving his master alone to burn. Minho is very fond of Jisung. Somewhere on a subconscious level, he's sure he can't live a day without him. And it's not because he has bad eyesight now. No, it's not that. It's the need for his company, for warmth around him, which is already like an addiction. The constant feeling that he would fall apart without the important support of a loved one. Without Jisun. It's really hard for him to imagine his life without him. Perhaps somewhere in there, somewhere inside, he was afraid that Jisun would leave him alone. But he rejected those thoughts. After all, he feels loved too. Quietly, not like Minho, who talked about it at every turn. Jisun shows his love through actions. Like this. Jisung removes his hand and hears a disappointed groan. Instead, he pulls away from Minho, rustles, and is silent for a few moments. Minho holds his breath, sensing some sort of catch in all of this. The breeze from the ajar window blows unpleasantly against his heated skin. Minho opens his lips, waiting to see what the man will do. It didn't take a second before Minho was panting, and Jisung's tongue was traveling over the head. He wanted to howl with arousal. Carefully and ineptly, as if afraid of hurting him, Jisung moved his head, taking in the full length and releasing it again. And he did it painfully slowly. It was like he was mocking. Minho would have squeezed his legs, but nimble hands prevented it. Jisung only teased him, watching him squirm. Minho flinched as Jisung entered him again, this time a little faster. His eyes grew moist. A moan involuntarily escaped his throat, his body arched. Jisung didn't like doing that. It wasn't that he was squeamish, he just didn't like it. Minho usually rejected it, too, preferring the alternatives. Minho could only guess why the man had made up his mind. Really hoping it wasn't a one-time action and certainly not pity. Though, on the other hand, Minho was literally begging not to have that feeling for him. And he wanted to believe that Han had listened to him. And he had little doubt he would. Jisung caresses him, listening to the swearing and unrestrained moans. Minho wriggles as a sweet negativity spreads through his body. Breathing heavily and placing his hands on his forehead. Jisung wipes himself with a napkin and then lifts Minho into a sitting position. The man has his head down, thinking about something of his own. Clearly not in this world. Jisung carefully unties the blindfold and scrutinizes Lee's face. He continues to sit with his eyes closed and clearly has no intention of regaining consciousness. In fact, he needs to think about everything for some reason at this moment. Not so much what had happened, but everything that was happening to him in general. Something clicked in his brain, forcing him into his thoughts. It would be extremely hard to get used to a new version of himself, a new feeling and a different attitude of those around him. He would be surrounded by pity for the rest of his life. And only one person will not feel something like that for him, because he loves him all. Jisung won't feel sorry for him, as he already does at this point. Minho is taken into an embrace, rocking and scratching his back pleasantly, causing a faint moan of pleasure to erupt from his chest. Giving vent to his emotions, he cries. Simply because he can't hold it all in and be optimistic forever. Minho is kissed, as if silently letting him know that he is not alone. That they will get through all the hardships and worries together. Later, Minho lies staring at the ceiling for a long time, pondering. Burning a hole in it, desperately trying to see something in it. Jisung sits on the floor next to him and holds his hand, admiring him and making a mental vow to himself that he will never leave him alone. There are difficulties in everyone's life. Everyone tries to avoid them, but fate disposes of our lives as it wants. And she doesn't care about our vows, even if we carve them on our hearts. But there is also love, which is always strong against all odds. Thanks to it, we have to fight till we win. For your own sake. And for the person you love.