No such thing as Monsters
The room was dark, the only source of light coming from whatever was provided from the street lights outside and pieces of the moon blocked by the clouds.
The lights that provided sight only brought forth tall shadows that dragged across the room, dancing eerily towards each other. Such things would frighten a person who had a phobia of darkness, frighten a person like Seung Ri. But the long nights of waiting and worrying made him immune to the taunting shadows and his usual active imaginations of monsters and the boogeyman became something he scoffed at. For he came to realize…
There were no such things as monsters…only Jiyong.
His body was lax, body curled under the familiar softness of the sofa, his knees propped up close to his chest. His fingers that lay carelessly by his side would occasionally draw foreign figures against the couch, nails scraping against the fabric. Without realizing, his brown eyes that used to hold such brightness would dim into nothing as it bore against his wooden front door. I’m sorry…their.
After revealing their unfound love for one another to their friends, they had decided to buy a house of their own. At first the suggestion was thrown out with hesitation, but it was forgotten for they thought it was a new step for both of them to take.
How stupid and naïve of him to have thought such a thing.
The very idea of this home -Seung Ri sneered at the word- should be trashed and tossed for it only reminded him how much he missed the company of the others. How he wished to console with Taeyang at any time, how he wished to lay next to Top when he needed protection from his nightmares, how he wished for Daesung’s laughter to break the deafening silence.
How he thought Jiyong could’ve filled all these voids…
Now, he sat there at the usual place, drenched in darkness, waiting almost patiently for his “lover” to come home from…what? From drinking? From clubbing? From fucking a new whore he found? He desperately pushed the suspicion from his mind, convincing himself that he was being way too paranoid. But the thoughts would force its way in and flood his mind, gnawing, destroying him: He’s with someone better than you…
It only hurt more when he had smelled the putrid odor of definite alcohol and the whorish perfume lying beside him the other night. Even if he had really slept, the smell was suffocating enough, leaving him hurling in the toilet as if he was the one downing god knows what.
The uncomfortable feeling in his stomach didn’t compare to the fact the older saw nothing different in his complexion, his personality or even the sickening fact that Jiyong saw nothing wrong with what he’s doing.
And the late night trips out, the table for one, the unmade bed, slowly became a part of their new life each day, and Seung Ri didn’t know if it was his fault for letting this happen. Had he done something wrong? Something that made him deserve this?
He subconsciously formed a tight fist, his nails clawing at the cushion underneath him. No…Eyes became narrow, sharp as something slowly took over him, something that wasn’t supposed to be. This…is the last time. He closed them slowly, willing any thoughts that were less than the usual niceness away. But who’s nice at this stage of life?
His brown eyes snapped opened upon hearing the dull click of locks and bolts, his peaceful silence broken instantly, like the calm before the storm. He watched as the skinnier male stumbled across the doorway, hands fumbling for any hard surface that he recognized. You didn’t need eyes to see that Jiyong was wasted yet again, wasted from the way he staggered and crashed into various objects in the way.
So much for subtly…
Seung Ri took that moment to turn on the lamp beside him, alerting the other of his presence. He had to blink a few times himself, seeing the other stumble even further at being temporarily blinded from the light.
Dark brown eyes widen at the sight before him, his vision becoming sharper as he trailed from the hickey infested neck to the disoriented clothes that were thrown on in a messy fashion. To top it off, he had various cuts and bruises around his jaw, arms, and whatever parts of skin he can see. A fight?
He thought he was prepared for this, but knowing is so much different than actually seeing and when he heard his name come from that, he snapped.
The pictures of them hung up in wooden frames trembles and cracks against the floor when Jiyong is slammed against the wall. Jiyong’s breath is knocked out of him from the impact, and before his mind can function from all the liquor swimming inside his head, he’s lifted and thrown into another wall.
His whole body is numb now, head lolling back as his eyes tries to catch up with the background, his hands grabbing unto the person in front of him. He knows that it can’t be Seung Ri, because his maknae doesn’t have the inner strength to do this. It should be someone else trying to break in, muggers, clowns, but not his Seung Ri.
But as his hands clutch tighter around the black shirt and his face is pressed against the hard chest, he recognizes the very scent that penetrates him, even in his foggy state of mind.
“Se-seung Ri?” the name coming out in a slur. The smell of alcohol hits his nostrils and he frowns slightly in disgust.
“Hey Sweetie, Where have you been?” The youngest asks with a mockingly sweet voice, half curious to know what excuse his quick-witted lover can come up with now.
He sees Jiyong squint, trying to refocus his eyes from the changing lights and probably the different shapes he sees from being thrown around.
“Out.”
Such a smartass.
The simple answer is enough for him to break every bone on his skinny body, and if he had tilted his lips to a smirk, he would’ve done so.
“Out?...OUT?” Seung Ri brings his face close, a threatening gleam in his eyes, almost feral and even through his alcohol ridden mind, he cringes at the sight.
Another crash, another throw and Jiyong is on his back with the edge of the counter table pressed against his back, making him hiss. The younger pays no heed, and takes pleasure of the pain that spreads across his lover’s face.
“Out you say?” He fists the front of the ripped and whore-infested shirt and presses his body close. “With whom?” he hisses in his ear. “Doing what?” This unseen personality of his lover makes Jiyong shiver, and he can’t help but feel some sick pleasure from this brutal treatment. He almost moans when Seung Ri unexpectedly presses his hips against his sex.
Before Jiyong can open his mouth, the other crashes his lips against his, roughly sucking out all air and words that Seung Ri doesn’t want to hear and doesn’t want to know. His tongue plunges deep, tastes everything that Jiyong’s been doing and snaps his head up, spitting it to the floor.
The taste is revolting and Seung Ri sinks his teeth on his lover’s bottom lip, already plumped and swollen from before. The blood, sweet blood poured into his mouth; which could be as tainted as his lover. Jiyong gasps, feeling the pinch and then, the mouth of his lover against his own. A mix of both sends his nerves tingling and the hunger for more is deafening and desperate as he wraps him with thin arms. Their kissing is uncontrollable, as Seung Ri swirled his tongue in and around the plumped lips, leaving remnants of rubies.
Jiyong sucked on the slithering muscle, missing the lingering feeling of him in his mouth before Seung Ri pulled away. He watched through lidded eyes as the younger licked his lips of the escaped blood, already feeling his penis grow semi-hard.
Seung Ri savored the dark liquid and felt his eyes darken at looking down to his flushed lover. Within seconds, the plaid shirt was ripped; sending scattered buttons across the floor and soon after, the jeans fell as well.
The cold air surrounded the pale skin, sending tremors throughout the body and the need for warmth became unbearable. Thin fingers reached forward to hold unto the undressing boy, man, wanting the blanket of security he found in his maknae. He couldn’t touch him though, or, wasn’t able to before his arms were pinned above his head, his boxers left in tatters from aggressive hands that were always seen as soft. No, it still is. Still is.
Hot lips trailed over his exposed flesh, just a touch of tongue, not enough to satisfy or enough to make him squirm. They were butterfly wings, flitting over his skin, a brush or two, almost gentle compared to the other’s previous actions. Then, sharp pain curled around his body making him arch up in a silent scream as he tried to look down through his squinted eyes.
His lover had bit him, hard, at where his cut was from a violent brawl outside the bar. A few quick hits, and a surprised knife brought into the fight, but none of it hurt as much as a healed wound reopened. Another escaped his lips as he felt the gash open too much for his liking. A growl rumbled deep in his throat as he tongued the cut, the dark angry feeling coming back tenfold at being reminded of what’s been happening.
“You like pain, Jiyong?”
Jiyong plopped his head to the side, sighing in relief when he stopped.
Seung Ri’s eyes narrowed and pressed his thumb against the forming bruise on the pale hips. The other gasped and whipped his head towards him in pain.
“I’ll give it to you.” He whispered, pressing their naked chests closer.
“So you won’t have to go anywhere.” He licked the outer lobe, leaving a wet trail down to his jugular, eliciting a moan from the other.
“Be anywhere,” His breath caught in his throat when Seung Ri looked at him, seeing too many emotions swirling dangerously in one ball.
“With anyone…,” Lips inches away from each other, close enough to feel the long eyelashes lower.
“But me.” The distance closed, molding their lips in a chaste kiss, and Jiyong closed his eyes at the sensation.
When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to meet the cool marble surface of the table, his body kept in place with the hand on his back. His legs were spread apart, leaving him exposed completely to the other.
“Wha-?”
He screamed as he felt something pushing forcefully into his entrance, dry and rough with no preparation at all. His eyes clenched, tears unwilling to listen as they streaked down his face, teeth missing his tongue by a fracture. Nails clawed desperately at the surface, feeling his insides being stretched brutally inch by inch.
Once fully seated, Jiyong released his breath, coughing and sputtering from the quick intake of air and tears that caught in the way. There was no time to recuperate before Seung Ri slammed in again in a fast unrelenting pace.
Screams became quiet whimpers, as the blood streaming down his thighs became a thin layer of lubrication for him. Sweat formed on their bodies as Seung Ri leaned in forward, his hands gripping hard enough to make his own bruises. Everything became lost as he was fucked, hearing nothing, but the pants and the harsh slapping of skin-on-skin.
With one arm, he lifted one slim leg and pressed in further, fucking him into the marble desk, making the other scream from the changed position.
“Ahah…unh…” Grunts escaped as he felt himself growing closer, his penis slapping against the table from the movement. The pleasure adding to the pain and all the sweet blood pushed him off the edge, and he came. His scream echoed throughout the apartment and he fell unto the table, exhausted. Seung Ri came soon after at hearing his lover scream and with a few thrust, fell on top of him, slipping him limp cock out.
Seung Ri breathed in hard, feeling the rapid beating of the heart underneath him and tasted the saltiness of sweat on Jiyong’s neck. He thought the other had fallen asleep when he felt his lover’s breath even out and turned him over. His eyes widen when arms wrapped around his neck.
“…ry…,” Jiyong muttered against the shoulder.
“Baby?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Jiyong gripped harder and harder, tears falling down with every word.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Seeing, feeling his lover this broken, this fragile, he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around the thin waist, and hold him close. With one hand, he tilted the tear-streaked face away from his shoulder and felt his heart break from what he done. He leaned in and whispered his words against the soft lips.
“I’m sorry too baby, I’m sorry too.”
They both shared a kiss, a kiss of knowing, of raw feelings that were unsaid…
And both hopes that tomorrow would be a new start.