45
When Yoochun punches him, kicks him in the stomach and screams like a maniac when he's not high and Changmin isn't drunk, it becomes apparent their problems are far more complicated than addiction.
Changmin tries to breathe as he curls on the floor.
"You make me fucking sick," Yoochun spits and tries to walk away but Changmin grabs his ankle and brings him to the floor almost instantly.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Changmin wheezes and climbs over him, trapping him between his thighs, holding his arm across his stomach as if it will stop the pain, "are you fucking kidding me?"
Yoochun tries to wiggle free, his eyes are wild and Changmin, the moment Yoochun's fist made contact, hasn't seen anything but red.
Yoochun screams in pain when Changmin hits his face and tries to scratch at his eyes but misses and gets Changmin's neck instead.
"Ow! Fuck!" Changmin wails and when he feels blood he's consumed with what he thinks may be hate.
Hate that consumes him and blinds him.
When he hears the air from Yoochun's lungs leave him in a loud painful exhale and a crippling cry, all he feels is the orgasmic release of pent up tension that's been brewing over painfully sober months.
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