My Sweet Prince [1/1]
Title: My Sweet Prince
Rating: R
Word Count: 3129
Pairing: JongKey
Genre: angst, romance, slice of life
Summary: Kibum is bored with his life and willing to try something new.
Warning: drugs use
Kibum is bored.
He’s never been so bored in his overwhelmingly boring and pathetic life. There’s nothing to chase, nothing to achieve, there’s no motivation, no aim, no sense. The routine is killing him, the constant nagging of his parents is killing him, the school, his friends, life itself. It’s so boring.
Danger, on the other hand, is fascinating, thrilling; unknown things loathed by the ‘righteous ones’ are exciting.
Going out to a club without telling anyone and getting drunk senseless is enticing. That’s exactly what he’s now doing, grateful to some random guy for buying him a drink; he’s still underage, he’ll be eighteen in two months. The other guy not only seems older, he also seems to be a regular in this club, he seems to know all the rules, all the people; the way he immediately fishes out Kibum from the crowd the moment he steps in is just incredible. “You’re new, aren’t you” he breaths hotly into his ear, and all that Kibum can do is nod and take a look around. People are sweaty, music is loud, deafening, how the other can be heard by him is a mystery.
The more they get to know each other they learn to speak without words, hear without listening. They learn to just simply feel.
And to feel Kibum purely wants, yearns for; he needs something to awake inside of him, he needs a thrill of excitement, he needs-
“Want some good stuff?”
He doesn’t ponder on it, he just nods again, as the stranger smirks knowingly (his lips are so pink so plush so tempting) and grabs his wrist to lead him somewhere further in the club.
Kibum follows him unwillingly, quickly drying his glass of vodka and feeling his throat burn not quite unpleasantly. The world’s dizzy, the music’s so fitting, everything’s decaying and there’s only him and that other guy that are able to handle it all, they’re the ones that can break it all down-
He giggles uncontrollably, the grip on his wrist faltering as they reach a toilet cubicle, empty, dirty and stinky, but neither of them seem to mind. The blonde (his hair seem so soft, so nice in touch, I want to touch him, I want him) reaches to his pocket and pulls out two white round pills that make Kibum’s mouth water involuntarily.
He’s trembling. He’s excited, he’s thrilled, he’s-
“Don’t be scared”
He’s scared.
Before he can back out, there’s a thumb on his bottom lip, urging him to part his mouth, and he complies somehow, partly because he doesn’t want to seem a coward and partly because, well, that’s what he wants, right? He wants to live an adventure, to feel something entirely new and refreshing.
One pill lands on his tongue and he’s shaking again; the stranger’s hands cradle his face now, with tenderness almost, as he breathes onto his parted lips:
“Swallow it, love, just swallow it.”
Suddenly, Kibum’s throat seems dry, as if all the saliva just disappeared, and he only gulps unsuccessfully. But then the latter gives him that smirk again, and he does his best to produce any amount of saliva so that the pill can disappear inside of him.
Make him feel something.
When it finally goes down his throat, his forehead is sweating and his vision is getting more and more fuzzy. The alcohol starts to kick into his mind, along with the stress and too many emotions at once, and hell if it’s not exciting.
He closes his eyes and there are lips on his, plush, chapped, so insistent and aggressive. He’s passive for the most of the kiss, the act so unfamiliar to him, especially when there’s a tongue sliding into his mouth, licking every possible spot of it, making his knees weaken and his throat produce needy, so new sounds.
He’s being kissed like he’s never been kissed in his life; like the other needs his lips, his breathy moans and erratic breath; he’s in daze, and when those delicious lips detach from his he can only whine unwillingly. He hears the smirk, still not opening his eyes, as the lips latch greedily to his neck, biting it not too gently and then soothing the mark with the hot tongue. Kibum is a writhing mess, threading his fingers through those blonde locks, bucking his hips into the other’s, begging more, always more-
Drugs, alcohol and making out like two aggressive beats are not the only new things he gets to know this night. He loses his virginity too, to a stranger on top of that.
They fuck hard and fast, Kibum pressed against the wall, the other slamming into him from behind, making him yelp in pain, fear and excitement.
And then, he doesn’t know what happens, but suddenly everything changes; the stinky smell turns pleasant, dirty floor covered with piss and heaves is colourful and funny, the stranger’s wanton grunts are funny, his desperate movement are funny, everything is so funny that out of sudden, Kibum is wheezing with laughter, bucking his ass against the other, feeling his entire being splitting in two, and it’s the funniest thing he can ever recall feeling.
What’s even funnier is when the other joins him in laughter, his deep, low, raspy chuckle rumbling against his clothed back; he speeds up, Kibum’s giggles turn into loud moans as the stranger grazes something inside him, something that makes Kibum see white stars and it’s funny, it’s so funny, ha ha ha ha, do it again, do it, ha ha ha, it feels so good-
And then it becomes too much, it’s too funny, too overwhelming, too good, too pleasurable and his legs fail him, as the world slowly turns black and he can no longer keep his eyes open.
For Jonghyun, drugs mean escape and the way to express oneself. No one could ever understand him, his constant craving for new sensations, experiencing new kinds of art.
He finds that with a little help of his ‘white friends’ he’s capable of doing anything. He can write the most elaborate symphonies, the most touching lyrics. He can do everything or nothing at all, and most of the times he settles with a perfect medium: instead of composing and not doing anything, he spends his time in a more entertaining way. He can write whenever he wants, he has time, he has all the time in the world, there’s no need to rush, is there? As long as the poisoned blood flows through his taut veins, he’s able to do anything he pleases. It’s only the laziness that prevents him from becoming a music genius. He can wait, he doesn’t have to start a career tomorrow, there’s still something nice to do.
Girls.
That’s a very nice thing to do.
Ever since he can remember, he’s been obsessed with the idea of physical closeness, of being united with another person. There’s something reassuring in this act, something that sets all his senses to the maximum focus, so that he can forget about everything that’s ever bothered him, he can just envelop himself in a warm, slick tightness and seek his release.
All of those girls are faceless, nameless, soulless, all that matters is their body, the tool for Jonghyun to find the highest peak of his existence. They want nothing in return anyways, maybe some good pill. They’re spent, used, half-conscious, high-
Just like Jonghyun, just like him.
He doesn’t know any of those girls and yet he knows all of the persons that come to the club. He doesn’t look at their faces as he screws them senseless, but he knows which girls are the regulars.
What he doesn’t know, doesn’t experience, doesn’t even think of, is to be close to someone for longer than just three minutes of raw fucking.
Which is why Kibum’s motionless body on his grey sheet is something entirely new and thrilling.
The boy passed out during their quick session; it had happened with some of the girls that Jonghyun had been with, so he didn’t give it much thought. What concerned him somehow was the blood dripping from his hole, down his milky tights; Jonghyun might be an egoist, but he’s not an inconsiderate beast. The thought that maybe this was this guy’s first time, and definitely the first time with another man, isn’t exciting or blandishing for him. If anything, it’s sickening.
Jonghyun didn’t think when he lifted the lifeless body from the floor and led it to his own flat. He’s never done such thing, had never thought of doing such.
As he watches the other boy’s heaving chest and droplets of sweat forming on his forehead and sliding down his collar, Jonghyun wonder if it hasn’t been Kibum’s first time on drugs as well.
The thought seems ridiculous, given the way the other has irrevocably and entirely trusted him; but then again, he did seem unsure. Scared even.
Did Jonghyun just pass his disease to someone innocent, naïve, unknowing?
Later on, as Kibum keeps on coming to the club, Jonghyun finds that there’s no one he’d rather fuck than this skinny, beautiful boy. He soon realizes that home is wherever Kibum is; only being buried deep inside him, feeling his nails clawing his back, only then Jonghyun feels like it’s all fine, like he can die this very moment.
He realizes that if Kibum told him to drop drugs, he would immediately do it.
He can’t think of anything better than those moments they share in his flat, smoking weed, staring into the ceiling, sometimes taking something harder.
Kibum isn’t faceless, nameless, soulless.
Kibum is beautiful. He’s more beautiful than any girl Jonghyun had ever come across (not that he would remember), more enticing, more sensual. He’s beautiful and he has a story to tell. The story that Jonghyun always listens with unbelievable focus, interest. He listens about boredom, lack of interest from his parents and friends, lack of aim in life. For Jonghyun, it’s not a boring story. Everything that is about Kibum is the most important, just as important as his own life.
He tells his own story to the other. His passion for art, his ability to write the most genius things, and his laziness.
And Kibum listens, he always listens, and his feline eyes with dilated pupils shine. Sometimes they narrow, sometimes widen, sometimes screw up as the younger boy burst into laughter (so overwhelming so overwhelming), until Jonghyun can’t help it but laugh along with him. They spend long minutes like this, just laying and laughing with no particular reason, colours sharp and vivid, sounds loud and fascinating, touches palpable, skins so sensitive.
Then they fuck until they’re both too spent.
And then they take some more pills, just to make it all more beautiful again.
That morning when Kibum wakes up in the stranger’s flat for the first time, he freaks out. His head is pounding agonizingly, his throat is sore and dry, his spine hurts unbearably. His voice is raspy and weak as he speaks up to the other boy for the first time since they met.
“Where am I?” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes and pouting unwillingly and if he looked at the other that very moment, he’d notice his very much love-struck, tender gaze.
They end up talking for hours; the other- Jonghyun (who learnt Kibum’s name as the other was asleep; he only checked his identity card, didn’t steal anything) - offers Kibum water, some yoghurt (after some time, you don’t want to eat anything else, he explains and Kibum can only nod in understanding), shower.
When Kibum returns home, there’s no one to greet him, no one to worry why he hasn’t been there for the whole night.
The house is quiet and cold and Kibum suddenly realizes the reason he agreed to all those things yesterday.
He realizes he’s always been lonely.
He goes there as often as he can, Jonghyun always finds him; they get high, sometimes they dance (this quite often ends with dry-humping and making-out like there’s no tomorrow), sometimes they go straight into Jonghyun’s flat, for more privacy and silence. The pleasurable silence sometimes paused by life stories.
Kibum enjoys listening to Jonghyun’s story. He actually enjoys everything about him. His carefree attitude, constant worry in his voice whenever he sees Kibum losing control, amazing skills in bed.
He doesn’t want to know where he learnt them, he know he wouldn’t stand the knowing; he wants to be one and only one that can make Jonghyun so excited, so allured, so needy and overwhelmed.
He knows he’s not his first, he knows he’s probably not the only one he’s seeing, but all those upsetting thoughts go away the moment those amazing pills start working.
Then there’s only him and Jonghyun and beautiful colours and sounds and smells.
Then the world’s beautiful.
But world is also cruel and Kibum learns is fast, as he goes to the club and finds that Jonghyun’s not waiting for him. Feeling his heart pounding in his ears, he asks some various people about Jonghyun and when he gets the response from one girl, he feels sick. Sick in every possible way, deadly sick.
He quickly finds someone to ease his sickness; he always has some money with him, but this is the first time he’s actually paying for drugs.
He takes three pills at once and passes out way quicker than he thought he would.
All that he’s thankful for is that someone actually called for the ambulance. And that the mental images of some faceless bitch sucking Jonghyun off disappeared.
Kibum doesn’t appear for weeks and Jonghyun is missing him like crazy. He’s never been the one to commit himself but thinking of Kibum, he’d do just anything to bring the boy back. He misses him with every piece of his soul and body, he craves him, his voice, his lips, his fingers, his eyes.
He wonders if one day he didn’t get too high to lose control over himself, if he didn’t do anything stupid that made him lose Kibum forever.
The only things he can recall are the moments he’d spend with Kibum. The rest is a meaningless blur.
He finds him three weeks later in the toilet where they met for the first time. Jonghyun’s followed by some spent teenager, that’s clutching onto his leather jacket for the dear life, but he doesn’t care, can’t care when all that he sees is Kibum’s hand holding a syringe and his eyes are so empty, so lifeless-
He pushes the girl away and gets down to his knees, catching Kibum’s skinny wrist in his hands; he sobered up immediately.
He eyes the other worriedly and trembles; Kibum’s skin is almost white, there are purple circles around his eyes, his usually cherry lips are now pale and dry.
He can’t see any pinhole on his arms so he exhales in relief; it’s not too late, it’s not too late-
“Kibum, look at me” he pleads desperately, cradling the other’s cold face with tenderness and fear, his voice isn’t reassuring by any means.
When he receives no answer, he grips at the boy’s shoulders (when did they get so skinny?) and shakes him.
“Kibum, I beg you, say something, look at me!”
And when Kibum complies, it’s the most heart-wrenching smile that Jonghyun sees on his face. This smile says ‘why would you care for a worthless piece of trash like me’.
His lips say:
“Why would you care, it’s not like you love me or anything”.
And all that Jonghyun can do is embrace him tightly and whisper, lips attached to his pale neck:
“You’re an idiot, you’re an idiot, we’re getting out of this, it’s the end, we won’t be doing it again-“
“You know what, I always thought that overdosing is a rather miserable way to die” Kibum suddenly says, chuckling lowly, breathlessly “But then, as I think about it, it’s pretty poetic too…”
“Fuck, just, stop Kibum, don’t say such things, we’re ending with this-“
“And I realize that if there is any person I’d want to die with, it would be you. Only you.”
Jonghyun feels tears wetting his neck. He shushes Kibum and says:
“We’re not dying, we’re getting out of this, I won’t lose you for some fucking party favors”
He means every word he says, even if it sounds naïve and foolish.
Kibum’s life is more important than any unwritten genius symphony, he realizes.
Kibum’s parents don’t care about his absence. He’s been at Jonghyun’s place for more than a month now and they haven’t even called, as if he never existed.
He doesn’t think about it though. He doesn’t have time for it.
Now, he’s more cared for, more spoiled, more taken care of than he’s ever been in his entire life. Jonghyun’s all about him, bringing him food, actual food, even though he rarely eats more than a bite or two, giving him water, changing the sheets every couple of hours, caressing him tenderly, talking to him just about all the time, reassuring him that everything’s going to be alright, that’s they’re alright-
Kibum can see that Jonghyun’s struggling with himself. He’s sweating just as much as Kibum, trembling just as much as him, his mind set on one thing only, but, given that Kibum’s been taking twice as many pills as Jonghyun’s ever had during those few weeks, Jonghyun’s way stronger than him.
My sweet prince, Kibum faintly smiles.
Sometimes, Kibum hallucinates. He yells as Jonghyun approaches him, in Kibum’s eyes he’s a monster with a knife and blood dripping from his mouth, while in reality it’s a thermometer and juice that he’s spilled, not bothering to wipe it as he heard Kibum’s screams.
Sometimes, Kibum’s aching to take something, to feel carefree and distant and happy.
But Jonghyun doesn’t let him; he’s stubborn and persistent.
Years later it leads them to the point where they’re ready to move out to a new flat, bought with their own earned money. They cut the ties with the past, the only remembrance becoming their memories of one another.
Very rarely they would talk about how they met, how lost and insecure they both were when they found each other. How irresponsible and foolish.
And yet, how deep in love with each other, either willing to give his life for the other one.
(Never thought I'd get any higher
Never thought you'd fuck with my brain
Never thought all this could expire
Never thought you'd go break the chain
Me and you baby,
Still flush all the pain away
So before I end my day
Remember
My sweet prince
You are the one)
A/N: This is what happens when I clean my room and listen to Placebo while doing it.
Also, as a 13/15-year-old girl I used to absorb all the books about drugs I could find.
I never did drugs, hopefully never will, but writing about them is something I strangely adore.
It came out way more naive and cheesy than I intended, but, nevermind, at least I ended something in one sit^^
(excluding the moment when I had to pause to go to English lesson... I thought I'd tear my hair out my head, seriously)
Hope you enjoyed this meaningless something, I'll update 'The Lonely Heart Killers' within a couple of days^^
Rating: R
Word Count: 3129
Pairing: JongKey
Genre: angst, romance, slice of life
Summary: Kibum is bored with his life and willing to try something new.
Warning: drugs use
Kibum is bored.
He’s never been so bored in his overwhelmingly boring and pathetic life. There’s nothing to chase, nothing to achieve, there’s no motivation, no aim, no sense. The routine is killing him, the constant nagging of his parents is killing him, the school, his friends, life itself. It’s so boring.
Danger, on the other hand, is fascinating, thrilling; unknown things loathed by the ‘righteous ones’ are exciting.
Going out to a club without telling anyone and getting drunk senseless is enticing. That’s exactly what he’s now doing, grateful to some random guy for buying him a drink; he’s still underage, he’ll be eighteen in two months. The other guy not only seems older, he also seems to be a regular in this club, he seems to know all the rules, all the people; the way he immediately fishes out Kibum from the crowd the moment he steps in is just incredible. “You’re new, aren’t you” he breaths hotly into his ear, and all that Kibum can do is nod and take a look around. People are sweaty, music is loud, deafening, how the other can be heard by him is a mystery.
The more they get to know each other they learn to speak without words, hear without listening. They learn to just simply feel.
And to feel Kibum purely wants, yearns for; he needs something to awake inside of him, he needs a thrill of excitement, he needs-
“Want some good stuff?”
He doesn’t ponder on it, he just nods again, as the stranger smirks knowingly (his lips are so pink so plush so tempting) and grabs his wrist to lead him somewhere further in the club.
Kibum follows him unwillingly, quickly drying his glass of vodka and feeling his throat burn not quite unpleasantly. The world’s dizzy, the music’s so fitting, everything’s decaying and there’s only him and that other guy that are able to handle it all, they’re the ones that can break it all down-
He giggles uncontrollably, the grip on his wrist faltering as they reach a toilet cubicle, empty, dirty and stinky, but neither of them seem to mind. The blonde (his hair seem so soft, so nice in touch, I want to touch him, I want him) reaches to his pocket and pulls out two white round pills that make Kibum’s mouth water involuntarily.
He’s trembling. He’s excited, he’s thrilled, he’s-
“Don’t be scared”
He’s scared.
Before he can back out, there’s a thumb on his bottom lip, urging him to part his mouth, and he complies somehow, partly because he doesn’t want to seem a coward and partly because, well, that’s what he wants, right? He wants to live an adventure, to feel something entirely new and refreshing.
One pill lands on his tongue and he’s shaking again; the stranger’s hands cradle his face now, with tenderness almost, as he breathes onto his parted lips:
“Swallow it, love, just swallow it.”
Suddenly, Kibum’s throat seems dry, as if all the saliva just disappeared, and he only gulps unsuccessfully. But then the latter gives him that smirk again, and he does his best to produce any amount of saliva so that the pill can disappear inside of him.
Make him feel something.
When it finally goes down his throat, his forehead is sweating and his vision is getting more and more fuzzy. The alcohol starts to kick into his mind, along with the stress and too many emotions at once, and hell if it’s not exciting.
He closes his eyes and there are lips on his, plush, chapped, so insistent and aggressive. He’s passive for the most of the kiss, the act so unfamiliar to him, especially when there’s a tongue sliding into his mouth, licking every possible spot of it, making his knees weaken and his throat produce needy, so new sounds.
He’s being kissed like he’s never been kissed in his life; like the other needs his lips, his breathy moans and erratic breath; he’s in daze, and when those delicious lips detach from his he can only whine unwillingly. He hears the smirk, still not opening his eyes, as the lips latch greedily to his neck, biting it not too gently and then soothing the mark with the hot tongue. Kibum is a writhing mess, threading his fingers through those blonde locks, bucking his hips into the other’s, begging more, always more-
Drugs, alcohol and making out like two aggressive beats are not the only new things he gets to know this night. He loses his virginity too, to a stranger on top of that.
They fuck hard and fast, Kibum pressed against the wall, the other slamming into him from behind, making him yelp in pain, fear and excitement.
And then, he doesn’t know what happens, but suddenly everything changes; the stinky smell turns pleasant, dirty floor covered with piss and heaves is colourful and funny, the stranger’s wanton grunts are funny, his desperate movement are funny, everything is so funny that out of sudden, Kibum is wheezing with laughter, bucking his ass against the other, feeling his entire being splitting in two, and it’s the funniest thing he can ever recall feeling.
What’s even funnier is when the other joins him in laughter, his deep, low, raspy chuckle rumbling against his clothed back; he speeds up, Kibum’s giggles turn into loud moans as the stranger grazes something inside him, something that makes Kibum see white stars and it’s funny, it’s so funny, ha ha ha ha, do it again, do it, ha ha ha, it feels so good-
And then it becomes too much, it’s too funny, too overwhelming, too good, too pleasurable and his legs fail him, as the world slowly turns black and he can no longer keep his eyes open.
For Jonghyun, drugs mean escape and the way to express oneself. No one could ever understand him, his constant craving for new sensations, experiencing new kinds of art.
He finds that with a little help of his ‘white friends’ he’s capable of doing anything. He can write the most elaborate symphonies, the most touching lyrics. He can do everything or nothing at all, and most of the times he settles with a perfect medium: instead of composing and not doing anything, he spends his time in a more entertaining way. He can write whenever he wants, he has time, he has all the time in the world, there’s no need to rush, is there? As long as the poisoned blood flows through his taut veins, he’s able to do anything he pleases. It’s only the laziness that prevents him from becoming a music genius. He can wait, he doesn’t have to start a career tomorrow, there’s still something nice to do.
Girls.
That’s a very nice thing to do.
Ever since he can remember, he’s been obsessed with the idea of physical closeness, of being united with another person. There’s something reassuring in this act, something that sets all his senses to the maximum focus, so that he can forget about everything that’s ever bothered him, he can just envelop himself in a warm, slick tightness and seek his release.
All of those girls are faceless, nameless, soulless, all that matters is their body, the tool for Jonghyun to find the highest peak of his existence. They want nothing in return anyways, maybe some good pill. They’re spent, used, half-conscious, high-
Just like Jonghyun, just like him.
He doesn’t know any of those girls and yet he knows all of the persons that come to the club. He doesn’t look at their faces as he screws them senseless, but he knows which girls are the regulars.
What he doesn’t know, doesn’t experience, doesn’t even think of, is to be close to someone for longer than just three minutes of raw fucking.
Which is why Kibum’s motionless body on his grey sheet is something entirely new and thrilling.
The boy passed out during their quick session; it had happened with some of the girls that Jonghyun had been with, so he didn’t give it much thought. What concerned him somehow was the blood dripping from his hole, down his milky tights; Jonghyun might be an egoist, but he’s not an inconsiderate beast. The thought that maybe this was this guy’s first time, and definitely the first time with another man, isn’t exciting or blandishing for him. If anything, it’s sickening.
Jonghyun didn’t think when he lifted the lifeless body from the floor and led it to his own flat. He’s never done such thing, had never thought of doing such.
As he watches the other boy’s heaving chest and droplets of sweat forming on his forehead and sliding down his collar, Jonghyun wonder if it hasn’t been Kibum’s first time on drugs as well.
The thought seems ridiculous, given the way the other has irrevocably and entirely trusted him; but then again, he did seem unsure. Scared even.
Did Jonghyun just pass his disease to someone innocent, naïve, unknowing?
Later on, as Kibum keeps on coming to the club, Jonghyun finds that there’s no one he’d rather fuck than this skinny, beautiful boy. He soon realizes that home is wherever Kibum is; only being buried deep inside him, feeling his nails clawing his back, only then Jonghyun feels like it’s all fine, like he can die this very moment.
He realizes that if Kibum told him to drop drugs, he would immediately do it.
He can’t think of anything better than those moments they share in his flat, smoking weed, staring into the ceiling, sometimes taking something harder.
Kibum isn’t faceless, nameless, soulless.
Kibum is beautiful. He’s more beautiful than any girl Jonghyun had ever come across (not that he would remember), more enticing, more sensual. He’s beautiful and he has a story to tell. The story that Jonghyun always listens with unbelievable focus, interest. He listens about boredom, lack of interest from his parents and friends, lack of aim in life. For Jonghyun, it’s not a boring story. Everything that is about Kibum is the most important, just as important as his own life.
He tells his own story to the other. His passion for art, his ability to write the most genius things, and his laziness.
And Kibum listens, he always listens, and his feline eyes with dilated pupils shine. Sometimes they narrow, sometimes widen, sometimes screw up as the younger boy burst into laughter (so overwhelming so overwhelming), until Jonghyun can’t help it but laugh along with him. They spend long minutes like this, just laying and laughing with no particular reason, colours sharp and vivid, sounds loud and fascinating, touches palpable, skins so sensitive.
Then they fuck until they’re both too spent.
And then they take some more pills, just to make it all more beautiful again.
That morning when Kibum wakes up in the stranger’s flat for the first time, he freaks out. His head is pounding agonizingly, his throat is sore and dry, his spine hurts unbearably. His voice is raspy and weak as he speaks up to the other boy for the first time since they met.
“Where am I?” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes and pouting unwillingly and if he looked at the other that very moment, he’d notice his very much love-struck, tender gaze.
They end up talking for hours; the other- Jonghyun (who learnt Kibum’s name as the other was asleep; he only checked his identity card, didn’t steal anything) - offers Kibum water, some yoghurt (after some time, you don’t want to eat anything else, he explains and Kibum can only nod in understanding), shower.
When Kibum returns home, there’s no one to greet him, no one to worry why he hasn’t been there for the whole night.
The house is quiet and cold and Kibum suddenly realizes the reason he agreed to all those things yesterday.
He realizes he’s always been lonely.
He goes there as often as he can, Jonghyun always finds him; they get high, sometimes they dance (this quite often ends with dry-humping and making-out like there’s no tomorrow), sometimes they go straight into Jonghyun’s flat, for more privacy and silence. The pleasurable silence sometimes paused by life stories.
Kibum enjoys listening to Jonghyun’s story. He actually enjoys everything about him. His carefree attitude, constant worry in his voice whenever he sees Kibum losing control, amazing skills in bed.
He doesn’t want to know where he learnt them, he know he wouldn’t stand the knowing; he wants to be one and only one that can make Jonghyun so excited, so allured, so needy and overwhelmed.
He knows he’s not his first, he knows he’s probably not the only one he’s seeing, but all those upsetting thoughts go away the moment those amazing pills start working.
Then there’s only him and Jonghyun and beautiful colours and sounds and smells.
Then the world’s beautiful.
But world is also cruel and Kibum learns is fast, as he goes to the club and finds that Jonghyun’s not waiting for him. Feeling his heart pounding in his ears, he asks some various people about Jonghyun and when he gets the response from one girl, he feels sick. Sick in every possible way, deadly sick.
He quickly finds someone to ease his sickness; he always has some money with him, but this is the first time he’s actually paying for drugs.
He takes three pills at once and passes out way quicker than he thought he would.
All that he’s thankful for is that someone actually called for the ambulance. And that the mental images of some faceless bitch sucking Jonghyun off disappeared.
Kibum doesn’t appear for weeks and Jonghyun is missing him like crazy. He’s never been the one to commit himself but thinking of Kibum, he’d do just anything to bring the boy back. He misses him with every piece of his soul and body, he craves him, his voice, his lips, his fingers, his eyes.
He wonders if one day he didn’t get too high to lose control over himself, if he didn’t do anything stupid that made him lose Kibum forever.
The only things he can recall are the moments he’d spend with Kibum. The rest is a meaningless blur.
He finds him three weeks later in the toilet where they met for the first time. Jonghyun’s followed by some spent teenager, that’s clutching onto his leather jacket for the dear life, but he doesn’t care, can’t care when all that he sees is Kibum’s hand holding a syringe and his eyes are so empty, so lifeless-
He pushes the girl away and gets down to his knees, catching Kibum’s skinny wrist in his hands; he sobered up immediately.
He eyes the other worriedly and trembles; Kibum’s skin is almost white, there are purple circles around his eyes, his usually cherry lips are now pale and dry.
He can’t see any pinhole on his arms so he exhales in relief; it’s not too late, it’s not too late-
“Kibum, look at me” he pleads desperately, cradling the other’s cold face with tenderness and fear, his voice isn’t reassuring by any means.
When he receives no answer, he grips at the boy’s shoulders (when did they get so skinny?) and shakes him.
“Kibum, I beg you, say something, look at me!”
And when Kibum complies, it’s the most heart-wrenching smile that Jonghyun sees on his face. This smile says ‘why would you care for a worthless piece of trash like me’.
His lips say:
“Why would you care, it’s not like you love me or anything”.
And all that Jonghyun can do is embrace him tightly and whisper, lips attached to his pale neck:
“You’re an idiot, you’re an idiot, we’re getting out of this, it’s the end, we won’t be doing it again-“
“You know what, I always thought that overdosing is a rather miserable way to die” Kibum suddenly says, chuckling lowly, breathlessly “But then, as I think about it, it’s pretty poetic too…”
“Fuck, just, stop Kibum, don’t say such things, we’re ending with this-“
“And I realize that if there is any person I’d want to die with, it would be you. Only you.”
Jonghyun feels tears wetting his neck. He shushes Kibum and says:
“We’re not dying, we’re getting out of this, I won’t lose you for some fucking party favors”
He means every word he says, even if it sounds naïve and foolish.
Kibum’s life is more important than any unwritten genius symphony, he realizes.
Kibum’s parents don’t care about his absence. He’s been at Jonghyun’s place for more than a month now and they haven’t even called, as if he never existed.
He doesn’t think about it though. He doesn’t have time for it.
Now, he’s more cared for, more spoiled, more taken care of than he’s ever been in his entire life. Jonghyun’s all about him, bringing him food, actual food, even though he rarely eats more than a bite or two, giving him water, changing the sheets every couple of hours, caressing him tenderly, talking to him just about all the time, reassuring him that everything’s going to be alright, that’s they’re alright-
Kibum can see that Jonghyun’s struggling with himself. He’s sweating just as much as Kibum, trembling just as much as him, his mind set on one thing only, but, given that Kibum’s been taking twice as many pills as Jonghyun’s ever had during those few weeks, Jonghyun’s way stronger than him.
My sweet prince, Kibum faintly smiles.
Sometimes, Kibum hallucinates. He yells as Jonghyun approaches him, in Kibum’s eyes he’s a monster with a knife and blood dripping from his mouth, while in reality it’s a thermometer and juice that he’s spilled, not bothering to wipe it as he heard Kibum’s screams.
Sometimes, Kibum’s aching to take something, to feel carefree and distant and happy.
But Jonghyun doesn’t let him; he’s stubborn and persistent.
Years later it leads them to the point where they’re ready to move out to a new flat, bought with their own earned money. They cut the ties with the past, the only remembrance becoming their memories of one another.
Very rarely they would talk about how they met, how lost and insecure they both were when they found each other. How irresponsible and foolish.
And yet, how deep in love with each other, either willing to give his life for the other one.
(Never thought I'd get any higher
Never thought you'd fuck with my brain
Never thought all this could expire
Never thought you'd go break the chain
Me and you baby,
Still flush all the pain away
So before I end my day
Remember
My sweet prince
You are the one)
A/N: This is what happens when I clean my room and listen to Placebo while doing it.
Also, as a 13/15-year-old girl I used to absorb all the books about drugs I could find.
I never did drugs, hopefully never will, but writing about them is something I strangely adore.
It came out way more naive and cheesy than I intended, but, nevermind, at least I ended something in one sit^^
(excluding the moment when I had to pause to go to English lesson... I thought I'd tear my hair out my head, seriously)
Hope you enjoyed this meaningless something, I'll update 'The Lonely Heart Killers' within a couple of days^^