In Your Bones: Chapter 6
notes: we are nearing the end!!!
[ Previously...]
When Jongdae comes to he's alone, and definitely not in his own home. He's in a chair and he adjusts, a flex of his wrists letting him know that he's not tied down at all; his eyes survey the area he's in and he determines that he's in the middle of a basement, with no windows and one door. A noise to his left catches his attention - a rat skitters off into a decrepit hole in the wall and he grimaces a little, suppressing a shudder.
“Good atmosphere, right?”
Kai’s voice comes from behind Jongdae’s chair and he tenses slightly in surprise, immediately standing up and turning around to glare at the other. It's dark with only one light in the room but Kai is still wearing shades, his full lips pulled up into a satisfied smirk.
“Boo.”
“Cut the shit, Kai.” Jongdae glares. “Where are Sehun and Minseok?”
“In their own beds,” Kai drawls, fingers on the back of the chair sliding over the wood as he slowly walks around it. He’s wearing ripped skinny jeans and a band tee, his combat boots barely making a noise on the grimy floor. “In the safety of their own homes.”
Jongdae’s jaw tenses. “Unharmed?”
“For now,” Kai smirks, and once he rounds the chair he grabs Jongdae’s hands, tugging him close so quickly Jongdae loses his breath. He pushes him back down onto the unforgiving hard wood of the chair - Jongdae tries to stand immediately but Kai slides onto his lap and while the man feels like he weighs nothing, Jongdae is pinned. “Keep struggling,” he whispers into the detective’s ear. “I like how desperation looks on you.”
Jongdae snarls and tries to buck Kai off of him, to no avail. Kai just laughs and makes himself comfortable, palms skating over Jongdae’s shoulders, his voice velvety smooth.
“You and your friends are awfully close to the truth,” Kai says, pursing his lips in a little pout as his fingers skim over Jongdae’s collarbones, the flesh exposed thanks to his worn t-shirt. “That Minseok… He's very smart. “
“What's your connection to Jongin?” Jongdae impatiently bites out. His hands are gripping the arms of the chair, white-knuckled and trembling with anger. This time he’s not going to let any questions slip away from him. This time he’s not going to let Kai walk all over him.
“What isn’t my connection to Jongin?” Kai replies with a longing sigh, smile still on his features.
Jongdae licks his lips, his heart hammering so hard against his ribs he can hear it in his ears. Kai has him hostage, has him pinned, and looks as crazy as ever. There's not a shred of lucidity in his expression or voice and this is the first time Jongdae has felt… fearful, in Kai’s presence. Fearful… or, exhilarated?
“You see,” Kai starts without prompting, “After I came to Earth and discovered there was no way to reach my fellow fallen comrades, due to the dreadfully ancient technology, I had to find someone to make it possible. Nikola was the perfect little seed. His social habits left something to be desired, though, and soon he went bankrupt and had to forfeit the tower I inspired him to construct. I had lost my ray of hope.”
“What the fuck are you talking about,” Jongdae growls, looking up at Kai.
“My journey!” Kai pouts. “Don't interrupt.”
“You're telling me you came to Earth?” Jongdae lets out an incredulous laugh. “You really are psycho.”
“I'm hurt,” Kai is still pouting as he puts a hand over his heart. “You wanted to know all about me and instead of asking, you snooped.”
“Because you never give me any straight- ugh!” Jongdae huffs and tips his head back, closing his eyes and praying for patience. After three seconds, he levels Kai with a glare. “You're under arrest.”
“Mmm,” Kai playfully taps Jongdae’s chest. “Are you gonna cuff me?”
“This isn't a fucking joke, Kai,” Jongdae spits. “You're a murderer and I'm a cop. You're under fucking arrest.”
“Hmmm… No I'm not~” Kai grins, settling down to get more comfy on Jongdae’s lap. “Let me finish my story.”
With Kai’s proximity Jongdae feels like he's going to catch on fire, but he looks stubbornly up at Kai, silently willing him to continue. Kai reads the green light and wiggles a little in excited satisfaction, before he starts speaking again.
“As I was saying, I had no way to contact the other legends. Here we had gone hurtling through space and time for hundreds of thousands of years only to land on this dumb rock. But!” Kai gets gleeful, clapping his hands. “Mother Nature is so bountiful on Earth! It’s the perfect place to plant the Tree. The only issue is...well,” his smirk gets shrouded in shadows, “the humans.”
Jongdae’s whole body is tense and starting to ache from physically restraining himself from tackling Kai and beating him to a pulp. And this story is just… There’s just no way.
“All of the other legends were killed in their crash landings, but with the heart of the tree they were able to find suitable hosts to be reincarnated into. It took a couple hundred years,” Kai says, looking over Jongdae’s shoulder thoughtfully with a soft nod. “But when my heart started beating again I knew that I was close. That they were close.”
“And that’s when you started killing,” Jongdae ties it together, his brows knitted and gut churning.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” Kai rolls his eyes and lets out an exaggerated groan. “I sacrificed them. My comrades had chosen vessels knowing that their demise would come swiftly. I broke them free of their Earthly vestiges and soon we will be able to plant the Tree and carry on our mission.”
“Let me go, Kai,” Jongdae says, as patiently as possible. He doesn’t sound very patient at all.
“Alright,” Kai replies simply, climbing off of Jongdae’s lap. “You need to go check on your friends, anyway.”
Jongdae feels the blood leave his face. With Kai off his lap he is suddenly free from paralysis and he jumps up, patting his hands over his own body to make sure Kai didn’t do anything weird while he was unconscious.
“You should hurry,” Kai says, as he starts to back into the shadows. “I think it’s supposed to snow, tonight.”
Fwump.
Jongdae is suddenly struck with vertigo, his vision blackening and his feet feeling like they’re flying out from underneath him. His balance is off and he catches himself before he falls by reaching out and grabbing a … street lamp? As his vision clears he looks around to see that he’s somehow been transported to a neighborhood, one that he vaguely recognizes. After turning this way and that, his mind spinning with how the hell he got there in the first place, his phone starts ringing in his pocket. Jumping slightly in surprise, because he doesn’t remember having his phone in his pocket, he fishes around and pulls it out, answering after seeing Sehun’s name on the screen.
“Hello?” Jongdae’s breath clouds in the air.
“Jongdae?” Sehun sounds sleepy. Jongdae sags a little in relief. “Jongdae, I just had the weirdest dream. We’ve been camping out at your place so much that being at home feels weird…”
“Are you ok?” Jongdae asks, looking around the empty street. What time is it? He pulls his phone away to squint at the glowing screen.
01:28AM
“Yeah- are you?” Sehun sounds slightly more awake. He must be able to hear the odd tone of Jongdae’s voice.
“I’m fine,” Jongdae feels a shiver starting at the base of his spine. He does his best to ignore it; it’s cold, but as soon as he starts shivering, it will be unbearable. “When did you go home?”
“A few hours ago?” Sehun ventures, and then sounds a little confused. “You got ding-dong ditched and after like, the third time, you suggested we go home… remember?”
Jongdae frowns, shaking his head. “I don’t- I don’t remember. Why would I send you guys home?”
“I don’t know?” Sehun sounds more confused by the minute. “I did think it was weird but you were really insistent.”
Jongdae folds one arm across his chest, tucking his hand into his armpit to try and trap some warmth. “Oh. Well- can you go back to my place?”
“Go back… Jongdae, where are you?” Sehun has always been sharper than he lets on.
“I’m not sure,” Jongdae says. “I…” he thinks fast. “I must have sleep-walked? I think I’m in Minseok’s neighborhood.”
“You sleep-walked a thirty minute subway ride to Minseok’s apartment?” Sehun deadpans. “Go ring him, I can meet you there in ten minutes.”
“Right,” Jongdae mentally shakes himself a little. “Yeah- ok. See you soon.”
When he ends the call, Jongdae looks around the neighborhood again. It is Minseok’s. And he’s standing right in front of Minseok’s building. How did he get here? Why did Sehun say that Jongdae had told him and Minseok to go home, when Jongdae had been taken by Kai? Didn’t they see him?
… Didn’t that happen?
“Jongdae?”
Glancing up, Jongdae sees Minseok standing out on his balcony. The clouds overhead are light and grey, and Jongdae idly wonders if they’ll get their first snow of the season tonight.
“Hey,” Jongdae calls out loud enough to be heard on the seventh floor where Minseok is. “Can I come up?”
“What are you doing here?” Minseok calls.
Jongdae can’t see his facial expression from this distance - but he imagines that Minseok has a look of disbelief on his features. Shrugging, Jongdae just shakes his head. He has no idea what he’s doing here.
“It’s gonna snow,” Jongdae calls, folding his arms tightly over his chest. “Buzz me…”
His words die out, his eyes focusing on something above Minseok.
“What?” Minseok calls, leaning over the balcony railing a bit, like he’s straining to hear Jongdae.
A great, dark shadow is looming behind Minseok, seemingly coming from the inside of his apartment. Snake-like tendrils of darkness come licking out of the sliding door, the windows, and it starts encroaching on where Minseok is, stark against the softness of the cloudy sky, a great black octopus closing in on its prey.
“Min…” Jongdae feels his heart start to slow. “Minseok…”
“Jongdae?” Minseok calls out again. He leans just a bit further.
“Minseok-!” Jongdae suddenly yells out. The shadows are blooming right behind Minseok, some sort of morbid, demonic venus fly trap. “Get out of there!”
Minseok turns sharply and the darkness seems to implode in an instant. It enshrouds Minseok entirely, consumes him fully and Jongdae lets out an agonized, terrified yell - and then the shake of a silent boom rocks the neighborhood and Minseok is being catapulted seven stories, limbs flailing, scream hoarse.
Jongdae is rooted to the spot when Minseok’s body comes crashing down onto the pavement. Breathless, Jongdae looks up to the balcony to see the shadows retreating between the buildings, sneaking away undetected. A gurgling groan brings his attention down and he sprints forward towards Minseok, collapsing to his knees next to the man and immediately gathering him up in his arms.
Minseok is limp.
There’s so much blood... splattered on the road, covering Minseok’s pajamas - a quick glance shows that both legs and an arm is broken and Jongdae can’t imagine what sort of damage has been wreaked upon his insides. Hot tears start spilling down Jongdae’s face mercilessly and Minseok is just barely there, his eyes staring up, unfocused, at the sky.
“Jong…” Minseok wheezes.
“Shhh,” Jongdae shakes his head and keeps Minseok close to him. He knows that he shouldn’t move Minseok if he has any hope that the paramedics will come and save him, but… He knows that no help will arrive. Shaking, Jongdae cradles Minseok to his chest, broken sobs interrupting the slew of apologies falling from his lips. “I should have known- I’m so sorry Minseok, I’m so fucking sorry, please stay with me…”
“Dae…” Minseok can’t move, but his eyes finally rest on Jongdae’s features. “I can’t…”
“Save your strength,” Jongdae whispers, cupping Minseok’s jaw tenderly with his palm. He feels the bone shift sickeningly under his touch.
There are no tears wetting Minseok’s eyes. Where there’s no blood on his skin his complexion is still fair and smooth as ever, and his lashes flutter slightly as he looks up at Jongdae. Jongdae meets his gaze and feels himself breaking, feels as though it were him that fell to his death. Minseok trusted him. Minseok had faith in him. Minseok was so loyal, so amazing, and such a good friend. And here he lie, dying in Jongdae’s arms, choking on blood every few breaths and fading in and out of consciousness.
Bowing his head, Jongdae sobs, tears landing on Minseok’s blood-stained shirt. He feels something running through his hair and when he lifts his gaze he realizes Minseok is using his good hand to pet his head affectionately, a weak ghost of the playful noogies Minseok used to give him in the past. There’s the smallest of smiles on Minseok’s chapped, bloodied lips, and Jongdae grabs his hand as gingerly as possible, pressing his lips to bruised knuckles as he holds eye contact with his friend, his comrade.
“Jongdae…” Minseok whispers out, his gaze turning up towards the grey sky. “It’s… snowing…”
Minseok’s eyes slowly close, a single snowflake falling onto his long lashes.
When the sirens come, Jongdae can’t stop screaming.
-
Jongdae doesn’t see Kai in the following weeks. Jongdae doesn’t see much of anyone, save for Sehun, who basically moved in after Minseok died. Neither of them do much. The case files on the coffee table lay untouched, Minseok’s computers stay in sleep mode, and they don’t even go into the office to clock in for hours.
Sehun has started sleeping in Jongdae’s bed with him. An unspoken agreement - they both feel safe and it helps ease the loneliness, the depression. Minseok’s funeral had been awful. All of his friends and family; Jongdae had felt so responsible, so sick that he ended up leaving early. Jongin said he would allow them time, but he still hasn’t pulled them off of the case.
No one else will take on the load.
On one slushy, gloomy afternoon, the doorbell rings.
Jongdae forces himself to get up off of the couch and trudges to the front door; he sees Jongin through the peephole and unlocks four deadbolts, a chain and then the handle, before opening the door. Kai’s admission that he’s somehow related to Jongin is still fresh in Jongdae’s mind, but he doesn’t have the will to make a fire of it quite yet.
“Jesus,” Jongin recoils a bit. “Jongdae, I can smell the pig sty out here. What are you guys doing?”
“Good to see you too,” Jongdae deadpans, stepping aside to allow Jongin in.
The Chief takes off his shoes and coat, putting them away before stepping into the apartment. He glances around and takes in the garbage, the disarray - and then sighs softly.
“You guys can’t do this to yourselves,” he admonishes softly. He grabs a plastic take-out bag and starts picking up trash. “This is no way to live.”
“How can we live when Minseok is dead?” Jongdae asks rhetorically. The very question that’s been plaguing his mind for four weeks.
“Because now it’s more important than ever,” Jongin says. He sounds so rational. The rustle of him putting trash in the bag almost drowns out his voice. “You’re just making yourselves easy targets, moping around like this.”
“I’ve been an easy target, Jongin,” Jongdae says, wandering towards the kitchen. “Kai has had every opportunity to kill me and he hasn’t. I could literally tell him to off me and he probably wouldn’t.”
“Stop being so selfish,” Jongin snaps.
Slightly surprised, Jongdae stops in his tracks and looks back at the other. “What?”
“I said stop being so fucking selfish, Jongdae,” Jongin’s gaze is narrowed, the smiley face printed on the plastic bag making him look much less menacing than he probably intends. “This isn’t about only you. This about all of us. You, me- Sehun,” he whispers the younger’s name. He’s still sleeping in bed.
Jongdae slumps against the door frame of the kitchen.
“You can’t get weak now.” Jongin recovers himself a bit and continues picking up trash. Once the bag is full he makes his way past Jongdae into the kitchen, tossing the sack into the bigger garbage can. He turns around, his expression softened slightly. “You’re stronger than all of us.”
“What if I’m not?” Jongdae whispers.
Jongin’s touch is hot when he grabs Jongdae’s wrist and turns him around. They lock gazes and Jongin looks so damn trusting, so earnest and honest and loyal Jongdae feels his gut churn. It’s wrong. He’s been discovering evidence that makes Jongin none of those things.
“You are,” Jongin says softly. He’s close, too close, and Jongdae feels hot under the collar at his proximity.
Jongdae shakes his head - to disagree, to try and shake some sense into himself - and Jongin reaches up, placing a hand over Jongdae’s nape and pressing their foreheads together to keep the older from refuting his words. Their eyes are still caught with one another and Jongdae exhales softly, feeling the fight leaving him.
Jongin’s lips on his feel like an inferno.
It’s the second time Jongin has kissed him but instead of recoiling and pulling away, Jongdae finds himself grabbing onto the lapels of Jongin’s blazer and pulling him closer. The shorter’s back finds stability against the door frame of the kitchen once again and, encouraged, Jongin presses him up against it. Their tongues slide hotly, a mixture of desperation, frustration, and for the first time in a long time Jongdae’s stomach feels… butterflies, instead of nausea.
His mind goes blank. All he can focus on is the coffee lingering in Jongin’s mouth, the feel of hands sliding up his sides and over his chest. He can't think about how wrong this is, how vile this is, how he has never been attracted to a man in his life. He can't think about Kai, can't think about Sehun sleeping peacefully in the darkness of his bedroom, can't think about Minseok’s broken, bloodied body. Jongin feels so real, warm and solid and Jongdae whimpers into his mouth, sliding his fingers up into Jongin’s dark hair, tugging softly, needily.
Jongin’s hands are strong when he pulls Jongdae away from the door and clears a space on the counter to hoist the older man onto. Jongdae automatically wraps his legs around Jongin’s waist, panting softly, teeth catching on lips and fingers digging into the side of the taller man's neck. Skin hot, vision blurry, breath short, Jongdae breaks away to find some sanity only to have it ripped away when Jongin’s mouth attaches to his throat, biting and sucking and licking.
“Ah,” Jongdae feels the pulse of arousal surge through his body so violently he shudders from head to toe. Jongin’s hands slide over his thighs, his palm wasting no time in pressing against the growing tent in Jongdae’s pajama pants. Feeling himself flush, Jongdae’s hips buck and he tosses his head back, squirming, writhing, unable to stay still.
Jongin’s fingers pull the waistband of the sweats down to expose Jongdae’s leaking cock, and any resistance inside of the older dies when Jongin bends and takes his erection into his wet, hot mouth. Hissing through his teeth Jongdae tangles his fingers into dark, coiffed hair, holding Jongin in place as his hips twitch. Eyes raking over the Chief’s back, watching his broad shoulders shift under his blazer, Jongdae thinks (rather deliriously) that this is the most turned on he's ever been. And so suddenly, too. Jongin moans around his length and Jongdae lets out a pleased sigh in response, helping guide Jongin’s head as it bobs.
When Jongin pulls away for air his full lips are red and spit-slicked, his pupils dark as he looks up at Jongdae. He wraps his fingers around the base of Jongdae’s cock and starts jerking in tight, shallow movements, and Jongdae recoils so hard from the pleasure he smacks the back of his head against the cabinets. They're being loud, they should keep it down with Sehun sleeping two rooms away, but caution seems to be in the wind when Jongin surges up for a sloppy, hot kiss.
“Jongdae,” Jongin breathes, licking at Jongdae’s lips like he can't stand to not taste him. “Jongdae, Jongdae…” His moans are low, kittenish, and Jongdae responds by palming the front of his slacks firmly.
This is madness.
This is heaven.
As soon as Jongin’s cock is exposed Jongdae scoots to the edge of the counter, thighs squeezing Jongin’s hips and keeping him close. Their erections slide against one another, precum and saliva dribbling over the skin and Jongdae wraps his hand around both lengths, squeezing.
“Fuck,” he groans, feeling his balls tensing.
Jongin lets out a similar sentiment from where his face is buried in Jongdae’s neck, teeth nibbling over the defined veins under the skin. They start rutting together and Jongdae hasn't frisked so recklessly since high school but he can't stop. It feels so good. His mind is clouded with pleasure and not rain for the first time in months and he holds onto it, riding out the euphoria for as long as possible.
“Jongdae… I…” Jongin’s hips are losing pace, stuttering erratically.
Grunting in response, Jongdae uses both hands to squeeze their cocks, creating a nice little vice for them. In this position on the counter he can't move his hips like Jongin, but the other is setting up such a nice pace and pressure Jongdae knows he'll find release easily enough.
“Fuck, Jongdae-” Jongin’s voice breaks and that's the only warning he gives before he orgasms, his release spilling over Jongdae’s cock and fingers.
There's still not quite enough friction, especially now with the cum on their skin, and Jongdae lets out a slight noise of frustration. As if on cue, Jongin pulls away and drops to squat, wrapping Jongdae’s legs around his head and mouthing over his cock. Jongdae groans at the sight, Jongin’s tan skin against his own angry pink flesh, and when Jongin looks up and makes eye contact, Jongdae reaches down to start jerking his cock.
“Fuck yeah,” Jongin pulls off, lapping at the crown of Jongdae’s erection. “Cum in my mouth, Jongdae.”
“Cum in me,” Jongdae hears Kai’s kittenish voice in his head, an echo of Jongin’s timbre. “Fill me up with your cum, baby, make me leak for days.”
Stars explode behind Jongdae’s closed lids and he gasps when he releases. Pulse after pulse spills onto Jongin’s waiting tongue and when he's done Jongdae slumps back against the cupboards, heart hammering, panic starting to settle as Jongin straightens and wipes his mouth.
“Get out,” Jongdae’s voice is barely a whisper.
“What-?” Jongin frowns in understandable confusion, his fingers frozen on his cum-covered chin.
“Get out,” Jongdae says louder, his voice catching with a bit of hysteria. What has he done? He fixes his pants and gets off of the counter, pushing Jongin’s shoulders lightly. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Jongin stumbles back and looks every bit like a wounded puppy. “But-”
“Out!” Jongdae yells. He’s starting to feel his defenses break down. He reaches for Jongin’s pants, haphazardly buttoning them up again all the while trying to push the man out of his kitchen. “Get out, I’m so fucking stupid-”
Jongin’s arms wrap around Jongdae so tightly, so securely, that Jongdae’s only reaction is to sag against him and whimper. Jongin wobbles a bit with the dead weight and then gently brings them both down onto the floor, holding Jongdae tighter still and rocking gently back and forth. He shushes Jongdae’s whimpers, his noises of defeat, hands petting and soothing and this isn’t right, this isn’t what Jongdae wants, or needs, he’s not in his right mind at all-
“I’m sorry,” Jongin says softly. He sounds a little choked up. “I’m sorry, Jongdae…”
It’s silent in the apartment. The scent of sex is stuck in Jongdae’s nostrils.
Jongin stays with him until he passes out from exhaustion, right there in the middle of the kitchen floor.
-
“You fucked him and now it's ok for him to hang around like this?” Sehun snorts. It's barely been twenty-four hours since Sehun woke up to Jongin depositing a nearly comatose Jongdae into bed and upon hearing of the transgressions that occurred in the kitchen, Sehun has been understandably irritated.
“Sehun,” Jongdae rubs at his brow and lets out a suffering sigh. “He's not hanging around.”
“He's hanging around, Jongdae.” Sehun burrows into the couch, gaze narrowed at the older man, who is curled up in the recliner. “He brought us breakfast this morning.”
“He's concerned,” Jongdae rolls his eyes.
“He's a suspect,” Sehun snaps. Then he sneers, “Unless his dick was so great you forgot?”
“I don't want to talk about it anymore Sehun,” Jongdae mutters, turning on the television.
“Great.” Sehun stands up with sudden emotion, throwing the blanket onto the couch. “You get to decide everything. Who's a suspect, who's not a suspect, who's dick you put in your mouth. Jesus Jongdae, since when do you-?” he throws his hands up in the air. “He's our Chief.”
Jongdae snaps in turn, from both irritation and embarrassment. “I get it Sehun, ok? I fucked my boss. I fucked the suspect in my own God damn kitchen and we can’t change that so stop fucking talking about it. It’s done.”
It takes three strides of Sehun’s gangly legs to cross over to where Jongdae is. He reaches down to shake Jongdae violently by the shoulders, looking all sorts of pissed off. Slightly startled, but not too rattled to be offended, Jongdae looks up into Sehun’s eyes and is surprised to see them glistening with tears.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Sehun says, his fingers digging into the curve of Jongdae’s shoulders. “Everyone is dying. We’re not even working on the case anymore, we’re just sitting ducks, waiting to be killed. Why? Why haven’t you caught him? Why isn’t Jongin guilty?”
“Sehun…” Jongdae murmurs softly. He reaches up to take ahold of Sehun’s hands.
“When am I going to die?”
Sehun’s broken voice breaks Jongdae’s heart and he tugs the younger down, encouraging him to curl up on Jongdae so he can wrap the blanket around them both. He doesn't have answers and Sehun knows that. They both know how helpless they truly are, and Jongdae hates it. With his arms securely around Sehun, he speaks softly.
“Jongin isn't Kai.” Sehun sniffles in reply. “Kai isn't Jongin. What happened yesterday… Something about it cleared the air, cleared my head. They're not the same person.” It's a gut feeling, one Jongdae hopes he doesn't come to regret. But in all honesty, even if Jongin and Kai are eerily similar in voice, action, and looks, Jongdae doesn't feel right lumping them together anymore.
He can't put his finger on it, but he has a suspicion Kai will confirm or deny sooner or later.
Understandably, Sehun lets out a little frustrated noise. “You’re basing all of this on an orgasm.”
“That’s not-” Jongdae sighs. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
A silence follows his words, and it seems like Sehun doesn’t have any more fight left in him to keep arguing. It both comforts and worries Jongdae that Sehun is just… ok with how everything is panning out. Because Sehun is right: they’re just sitting ducks, right now. There’s no other digging they can do on the case, and Minseok was their biggest resource for basically all relevant information. And Minseok’s death… That just confirmed the fact that the future victims ( “Sacrifices!”, Kai’s voice replies in Jongdae’s head) aren’t going to be mere strangers.
It’s quite obvious that they’re next.
“Did you talk to your mom yesterday?” Jongdae finally asks. “She’s been trying to get ahold of you for a while.”
Sehun’s response is bratty from the crook of Jongdae’s neck, “Did you call your mom?”
Touché.
Sighing, Jongdae reaches for the lever on the side of the chair and reclines them so swiftly Sehun lets out a surprised noise and hangs on for dear life. “No, I didn’t. I… I don’t know what I’d even say to her.”
“I was going to call her,” Sehun continues softly. “But I couldn’t.”
“We should talk to our parents,” Jongdae says.
They’re both very aware of the reason that they should make one final call to their parents, but neither of them are willing to even think about it extensively. Jongdae knows that as soon as his mother picks up the phone she will know that something is wrong. Moms are good for that. And Jongdae has never been able to lie to his mom, even if it were for her own good. But the knowledge that when he says goodbye to her next is probably going to be the last goodbye he gets - and not even in person - pains him more than anything.
Sehun is too weak to call his mother and not open the can of worms that they’re getting consumed by, and Jongdae knows that the last thing Sehun wants is to alarm his mother by saying something reckless like ‘I don’t have long, but I need to tell you I love you’.
So they’ve been stewing alone, together, in the confinement of Jongdae’s apartment, awaiting their fate. Maybe they can write letters instead.
“Hey…” Jongdae speaks up, dropping the subject of family. “Why don’t you hate me?”
Sehun replies with a silent, noncommittal shrug.
“Really,” Jongdae shifts a little and reaches to pull Sehun away from his neck a bit so he can try and look at the younger’s face. He hates the sadness in Sehun’s eyes. “All of this shit…”
“...The moment I met you back in the academy,” Sehun finally speaks, “I decided that I’d always have your back, just like you always had mine.” They don’t really talk about their academy days - mostly for the sake of Sehun’s ego. Jongdae listens patiently. “You saved me from hazings and bullying and all sorts of really dumb stuff that I should have been able to protect myself from. You did it even though you were older and so much better than me. I didn’t even ask you to, but you just… watched out for me. You’re the reason I even graduated.”
Jongdae smiles softly. “I couldn’t let a runt like you get his dreams crushed by those assholes.”
Sehun’s lips curl in the faintest of smiles in return. “This really fucking blows, Jongdae. I’m not even thirty years old- I’m single and I don’t even have a fucking dog to write a will to, and I’m waiting for some psycho to put me out of my misery. I don’t want to leave these four walls, I think I’d rather die of starvation or drown in the bathtub than let Kai axe me, but…” he shrugs softly. “I’m here with you. And I will stay with you until the end.”
Jongdae reaches up to clumsily wipe a tear off of his cheek. Looking up at the ceiling, because he can’t stand how his heart hurts when he looks at Sehun, he swallows thickly and nods.
“I’ll protect you,” he says.
”I’ll protect you,” Jongdae grinned at Sehun from the top bunk, draped over the edge so he could look at the younger. “From all the assholes in the world, ‘kay?”
Sehun rolled his eyes and grabbed his pillow to launch it up at Jongdae’s face. “Whatever. You’re an asshole too, y’know.”
Jongdae caught the pillow and promptly launched it back at Sehun, his grin even bigger than before. “Good thing I’m on your side, huh?”
Sehun lifted his feet and kicked at the underside of Jongdae’s bed, laughing. “Yeah, good.”
“I know,” Sehun whispers, drawing the blanket up to cover them better. After another few moments of silence, Sehun asks, “So… Since when do you like guys?”
Jongdae grabs a couch pillow and tries to smother Sehun with it, loudly changing the subject to what they’ll have for dinner.
They end up falling asleep tangled up in each other, instead.
[ Next]
[ Previously...]
When Jongdae comes to he's alone, and definitely not in his own home. He's in a chair and he adjusts, a flex of his wrists letting him know that he's not tied down at all; his eyes survey the area he's in and he determines that he's in the middle of a basement, with no windows and one door. A noise to his left catches his attention - a rat skitters off into a decrepit hole in the wall and he grimaces a little, suppressing a shudder.
“Good atmosphere, right?”
Kai’s voice comes from behind Jongdae’s chair and he tenses slightly in surprise, immediately standing up and turning around to glare at the other. It's dark with only one light in the room but Kai is still wearing shades, his full lips pulled up into a satisfied smirk.
“Boo.”
“Cut the shit, Kai.” Jongdae glares. “Where are Sehun and Minseok?”
“In their own beds,” Kai drawls, fingers on the back of the chair sliding over the wood as he slowly walks around it. He’s wearing ripped skinny jeans and a band tee, his combat boots barely making a noise on the grimy floor. “In the safety of their own homes.”
Jongdae’s jaw tenses. “Unharmed?”
“For now,” Kai smirks, and once he rounds the chair he grabs Jongdae’s hands, tugging him close so quickly Jongdae loses his breath. He pushes him back down onto the unforgiving hard wood of the chair - Jongdae tries to stand immediately but Kai slides onto his lap and while the man feels like he weighs nothing, Jongdae is pinned. “Keep struggling,” he whispers into the detective’s ear. “I like how desperation looks on you.”
Jongdae snarls and tries to buck Kai off of him, to no avail. Kai just laughs and makes himself comfortable, palms skating over Jongdae’s shoulders, his voice velvety smooth.
“You and your friends are awfully close to the truth,” Kai says, pursing his lips in a little pout as his fingers skim over Jongdae’s collarbones, the flesh exposed thanks to his worn t-shirt. “That Minseok… He's very smart. “
“What's your connection to Jongin?” Jongdae impatiently bites out. His hands are gripping the arms of the chair, white-knuckled and trembling with anger. This time he’s not going to let any questions slip away from him. This time he’s not going to let Kai walk all over him.
“What isn’t my connection to Jongin?” Kai replies with a longing sigh, smile still on his features.
Jongdae licks his lips, his heart hammering so hard against his ribs he can hear it in his ears. Kai has him hostage, has him pinned, and looks as crazy as ever. There's not a shred of lucidity in his expression or voice and this is the first time Jongdae has felt… fearful, in Kai’s presence. Fearful… or, exhilarated?
“You see,” Kai starts without prompting, “After I came to Earth and discovered there was no way to reach my fellow fallen comrades, due to the dreadfully ancient technology, I had to find someone to make it possible. Nikola was the perfect little seed. His social habits left something to be desired, though, and soon he went bankrupt and had to forfeit the tower I inspired him to construct. I had lost my ray of hope.”
“What the fuck are you talking about,” Jongdae growls, looking up at Kai.
“My journey!” Kai pouts. “Don't interrupt.”
“You're telling me you came to Earth?” Jongdae lets out an incredulous laugh. “You really are psycho.”
“I'm hurt,” Kai is still pouting as he puts a hand over his heart. “You wanted to know all about me and instead of asking, you snooped.”
“Because you never give me any straight- ugh!” Jongdae huffs and tips his head back, closing his eyes and praying for patience. After three seconds, he levels Kai with a glare. “You're under arrest.”
“Mmm,” Kai playfully taps Jongdae’s chest. “Are you gonna cuff me?”
“This isn't a fucking joke, Kai,” Jongdae spits. “You're a murderer and I'm a cop. You're under fucking arrest.”
“Hmmm… No I'm not~” Kai grins, settling down to get more comfy on Jongdae’s lap. “Let me finish my story.”
With Kai’s proximity Jongdae feels like he's going to catch on fire, but he looks stubbornly up at Kai, silently willing him to continue. Kai reads the green light and wiggles a little in excited satisfaction, before he starts speaking again.
“As I was saying, I had no way to contact the other legends. Here we had gone hurtling through space and time for hundreds of thousands of years only to land on this dumb rock. But!” Kai gets gleeful, clapping his hands. “Mother Nature is so bountiful on Earth! It’s the perfect place to plant the Tree. The only issue is...well,” his smirk gets shrouded in shadows, “the humans.”
Jongdae’s whole body is tense and starting to ache from physically restraining himself from tackling Kai and beating him to a pulp. And this story is just… There’s just no way.
“All of the other legends were killed in their crash landings, but with the heart of the tree they were able to find suitable hosts to be reincarnated into. It took a couple hundred years,” Kai says, looking over Jongdae’s shoulder thoughtfully with a soft nod. “But when my heart started beating again I knew that I was close. That they were close.”
“And that’s when you started killing,” Jongdae ties it together, his brows knitted and gut churning.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” Kai rolls his eyes and lets out an exaggerated groan. “I sacrificed them. My comrades had chosen vessels knowing that their demise would come swiftly. I broke them free of their Earthly vestiges and soon we will be able to plant the Tree and carry on our mission.”
“Let me go, Kai,” Jongdae says, as patiently as possible. He doesn’t sound very patient at all.
“Alright,” Kai replies simply, climbing off of Jongdae’s lap. “You need to go check on your friends, anyway.”
Jongdae feels the blood leave his face. With Kai off his lap he is suddenly free from paralysis and he jumps up, patting his hands over his own body to make sure Kai didn’t do anything weird while he was unconscious.
“You should hurry,” Kai says, as he starts to back into the shadows. “I think it’s supposed to snow, tonight.”
Fwump.
Jongdae is suddenly struck with vertigo, his vision blackening and his feet feeling like they’re flying out from underneath him. His balance is off and he catches himself before he falls by reaching out and grabbing a … street lamp? As his vision clears he looks around to see that he’s somehow been transported to a neighborhood, one that he vaguely recognizes. After turning this way and that, his mind spinning with how the hell he got there in the first place, his phone starts ringing in his pocket. Jumping slightly in surprise, because he doesn’t remember having his phone in his pocket, he fishes around and pulls it out, answering after seeing Sehun’s name on the screen.
“Hello?” Jongdae’s breath clouds in the air.
“Jongdae?” Sehun sounds sleepy. Jongdae sags a little in relief. “Jongdae, I just had the weirdest dream. We’ve been camping out at your place so much that being at home feels weird…”
“Are you ok?” Jongdae asks, looking around the empty street. What time is it? He pulls his phone away to squint at the glowing screen.
01:28AM
“Yeah- are you?” Sehun sounds slightly more awake. He must be able to hear the odd tone of Jongdae’s voice.
“I’m fine,” Jongdae feels a shiver starting at the base of his spine. He does his best to ignore it; it’s cold, but as soon as he starts shivering, it will be unbearable. “When did you go home?”
“A few hours ago?” Sehun ventures, and then sounds a little confused. “You got ding-dong ditched and after like, the third time, you suggested we go home… remember?”
Jongdae frowns, shaking his head. “I don’t- I don’t remember. Why would I send you guys home?”
“I don’t know?” Sehun sounds more confused by the minute. “I did think it was weird but you were really insistent.”
Jongdae folds one arm across his chest, tucking his hand into his armpit to try and trap some warmth. “Oh. Well- can you go back to my place?”
“Go back… Jongdae, where are you?” Sehun has always been sharper than he lets on.
“I’m not sure,” Jongdae says. “I…” he thinks fast. “I must have sleep-walked? I think I’m in Minseok’s neighborhood.”
“You sleep-walked a thirty minute subway ride to Minseok’s apartment?” Sehun deadpans. “Go ring him, I can meet you there in ten minutes.”
“Right,” Jongdae mentally shakes himself a little. “Yeah- ok. See you soon.”
When he ends the call, Jongdae looks around the neighborhood again. It is Minseok’s. And he’s standing right in front of Minseok’s building. How did he get here? Why did Sehun say that Jongdae had told him and Minseok to go home, when Jongdae had been taken by Kai? Didn’t they see him?
… Didn’t that happen?
“Jongdae?”
Glancing up, Jongdae sees Minseok standing out on his balcony. The clouds overhead are light and grey, and Jongdae idly wonders if they’ll get their first snow of the season tonight.
“Hey,” Jongdae calls out loud enough to be heard on the seventh floor where Minseok is. “Can I come up?”
“What are you doing here?” Minseok calls.
Jongdae can’t see his facial expression from this distance - but he imagines that Minseok has a look of disbelief on his features. Shrugging, Jongdae just shakes his head. He has no idea what he’s doing here.
“It’s gonna snow,” Jongdae calls, folding his arms tightly over his chest. “Buzz me…”
His words die out, his eyes focusing on something above Minseok.
“What?” Minseok calls, leaning over the balcony railing a bit, like he’s straining to hear Jongdae.
A great, dark shadow is looming behind Minseok, seemingly coming from the inside of his apartment. Snake-like tendrils of darkness come licking out of the sliding door, the windows, and it starts encroaching on where Minseok is, stark against the softness of the cloudy sky, a great black octopus closing in on its prey.
“Min…” Jongdae feels his heart start to slow. “Minseok…”
“Jongdae?” Minseok calls out again. He leans just a bit further.
“Minseok-!” Jongdae suddenly yells out. The shadows are blooming right behind Minseok, some sort of morbid, demonic venus fly trap. “Get out of there!”
Minseok turns sharply and the darkness seems to implode in an instant. It enshrouds Minseok entirely, consumes him fully and Jongdae lets out an agonized, terrified yell - and then the shake of a silent boom rocks the neighborhood and Minseok is being catapulted seven stories, limbs flailing, scream hoarse.
Jongdae is rooted to the spot when Minseok’s body comes crashing down onto the pavement. Breathless, Jongdae looks up to the balcony to see the shadows retreating between the buildings, sneaking away undetected. A gurgling groan brings his attention down and he sprints forward towards Minseok, collapsing to his knees next to the man and immediately gathering him up in his arms.
Minseok is limp.
There’s so much blood... splattered on the road, covering Minseok’s pajamas - a quick glance shows that both legs and an arm is broken and Jongdae can’t imagine what sort of damage has been wreaked upon his insides. Hot tears start spilling down Jongdae’s face mercilessly and Minseok is just barely there, his eyes staring up, unfocused, at the sky.
“Jong…” Minseok wheezes.
“Shhh,” Jongdae shakes his head and keeps Minseok close to him. He knows that he shouldn’t move Minseok if he has any hope that the paramedics will come and save him, but… He knows that no help will arrive. Shaking, Jongdae cradles Minseok to his chest, broken sobs interrupting the slew of apologies falling from his lips. “I should have known- I’m so sorry Minseok, I’m so fucking sorry, please stay with me…”
“Dae…” Minseok can’t move, but his eyes finally rest on Jongdae’s features. “I can’t…”
“Save your strength,” Jongdae whispers, cupping Minseok’s jaw tenderly with his palm. He feels the bone shift sickeningly under his touch.
There are no tears wetting Minseok’s eyes. Where there’s no blood on his skin his complexion is still fair and smooth as ever, and his lashes flutter slightly as he looks up at Jongdae. Jongdae meets his gaze and feels himself breaking, feels as though it were him that fell to his death. Minseok trusted him. Minseok had faith in him. Minseok was so loyal, so amazing, and such a good friend. And here he lie, dying in Jongdae’s arms, choking on blood every few breaths and fading in and out of consciousness.
Bowing his head, Jongdae sobs, tears landing on Minseok’s blood-stained shirt. He feels something running through his hair and when he lifts his gaze he realizes Minseok is using his good hand to pet his head affectionately, a weak ghost of the playful noogies Minseok used to give him in the past. There’s the smallest of smiles on Minseok’s chapped, bloodied lips, and Jongdae grabs his hand as gingerly as possible, pressing his lips to bruised knuckles as he holds eye contact with his friend, his comrade.
“Jongdae…” Minseok whispers out, his gaze turning up towards the grey sky. “It’s… snowing…”
Minseok’s eyes slowly close, a single snowflake falling onto his long lashes.
When the sirens come, Jongdae can’t stop screaming.
-
Jongdae doesn’t see Kai in the following weeks. Jongdae doesn’t see much of anyone, save for Sehun, who basically moved in after Minseok died. Neither of them do much. The case files on the coffee table lay untouched, Minseok’s computers stay in sleep mode, and they don’t even go into the office to clock in for hours.
Sehun has started sleeping in Jongdae’s bed with him. An unspoken agreement - they both feel safe and it helps ease the loneliness, the depression. Minseok’s funeral had been awful. All of his friends and family; Jongdae had felt so responsible, so sick that he ended up leaving early. Jongin said he would allow them time, but he still hasn’t pulled them off of the case.
No one else will take on the load.
On one slushy, gloomy afternoon, the doorbell rings.
Jongdae forces himself to get up off of the couch and trudges to the front door; he sees Jongin through the peephole and unlocks four deadbolts, a chain and then the handle, before opening the door. Kai’s admission that he’s somehow related to Jongin is still fresh in Jongdae’s mind, but he doesn’t have the will to make a fire of it quite yet.
“Jesus,” Jongin recoils a bit. “Jongdae, I can smell the pig sty out here. What are you guys doing?”
“Good to see you too,” Jongdae deadpans, stepping aside to allow Jongin in.
The Chief takes off his shoes and coat, putting them away before stepping into the apartment. He glances around and takes in the garbage, the disarray - and then sighs softly.
“You guys can’t do this to yourselves,” he admonishes softly. He grabs a plastic take-out bag and starts picking up trash. “This is no way to live.”
“How can we live when Minseok is dead?” Jongdae asks rhetorically. The very question that’s been plaguing his mind for four weeks.
“Because now it’s more important than ever,” Jongin says. He sounds so rational. The rustle of him putting trash in the bag almost drowns out his voice. “You’re just making yourselves easy targets, moping around like this.”
“I’ve been an easy target, Jongin,” Jongdae says, wandering towards the kitchen. “Kai has had every opportunity to kill me and he hasn’t. I could literally tell him to off me and he probably wouldn’t.”
“Stop being so selfish,” Jongin snaps.
Slightly surprised, Jongdae stops in his tracks and looks back at the other. “What?”
“I said stop being so fucking selfish, Jongdae,” Jongin’s gaze is narrowed, the smiley face printed on the plastic bag making him look much less menacing than he probably intends. “This isn’t about only you. This about all of us. You, me- Sehun,” he whispers the younger’s name. He’s still sleeping in bed.
Jongdae slumps against the door frame of the kitchen.
“You can’t get weak now.” Jongin recovers himself a bit and continues picking up trash. Once the bag is full he makes his way past Jongdae into the kitchen, tossing the sack into the bigger garbage can. He turns around, his expression softened slightly. “You’re stronger than all of us.”
“What if I’m not?” Jongdae whispers.
Jongin’s touch is hot when he grabs Jongdae’s wrist and turns him around. They lock gazes and Jongin looks so damn trusting, so earnest and honest and loyal Jongdae feels his gut churn. It’s wrong. He’s been discovering evidence that makes Jongin none of those things.
“You are,” Jongin says softly. He’s close, too close, and Jongdae feels hot under the collar at his proximity.
Jongdae shakes his head - to disagree, to try and shake some sense into himself - and Jongin reaches up, placing a hand over Jongdae’s nape and pressing their foreheads together to keep the older from refuting his words. Their eyes are still caught with one another and Jongdae exhales softly, feeling the fight leaving him.
Jongin’s lips on his feel like an inferno.
It’s the second time Jongin has kissed him but instead of recoiling and pulling away, Jongdae finds himself grabbing onto the lapels of Jongin’s blazer and pulling him closer. The shorter’s back finds stability against the door frame of the kitchen once again and, encouraged, Jongin presses him up against it. Their tongues slide hotly, a mixture of desperation, frustration, and for the first time in a long time Jongdae’s stomach feels… butterflies, instead of nausea.
His mind goes blank. All he can focus on is the coffee lingering in Jongin’s mouth, the feel of hands sliding up his sides and over his chest. He can't think about how wrong this is, how vile this is, how he has never been attracted to a man in his life. He can't think about Kai, can't think about Sehun sleeping peacefully in the darkness of his bedroom, can't think about Minseok’s broken, bloodied body. Jongin feels so real, warm and solid and Jongdae whimpers into his mouth, sliding his fingers up into Jongin’s dark hair, tugging softly, needily.
Jongin’s hands are strong when he pulls Jongdae away from the door and clears a space on the counter to hoist the older man onto. Jongdae automatically wraps his legs around Jongin’s waist, panting softly, teeth catching on lips and fingers digging into the side of the taller man's neck. Skin hot, vision blurry, breath short, Jongdae breaks away to find some sanity only to have it ripped away when Jongin’s mouth attaches to his throat, biting and sucking and licking.
“Ah,” Jongdae feels the pulse of arousal surge through his body so violently he shudders from head to toe. Jongin’s hands slide over his thighs, his palm wasting no time in pressing against the growing tent in Jongdae’s pajama pants. Feeling himself flush, Jongdae’s hips buck and he tosses his head back, squirming, writhing, unable to stay still.
Jongin’s fingers pull the waistband of the sweats down to expose Jongdae’s leaking cock, and any resistance inside of the older dies when Jongin bends and takes his erection into his wet, hot mouth. Hissing through his teeth Jongdae tangles his fingers into dark, coiffed hair, holding Jongin in place as his hips twitch. Eyes raking over the Chief’s back, watching his broad shoulders shift under his blazer, Jongdae thinks (rather deliriously) that this is the most turned on he's ever been. And so suddenly, too. Jongin moans around his length and Jongdae lets out a pleased sigh in response, helping guide Jongin’s head as it bobs.
When Jongin pulls away for air his full lips are red and spit-slicked, his pupils dark as he looks up at Jongdae. He wraps his fingers around the base of Jongdae’s cock and starts jerking in tight, shallow movements, and Jongdae recoils so hard from the pleasure he smacks the back of his head against the cabinets. They're being loud, they should keep it down with Sehun sleeping two rooms away, but caution seems to be in the wind when Jongin surges up for a sloppy, hot kiss.
“Jongdae,” Jongin breathes, licking at Jongdae’s lips like he can't stand to not taste him. “Jongdae, Jongdae…” His moans are low, kittenish, and Jongdae responds by palming the front of his slacks firmly.
This is madness.
This is heaven.
As soon as Jongin’s cock is exposed Jongdae scoots to the edge of the counter, thighs squeezing Jongin’s hips and keeping him close. Their erections slide against one another, precum and saliva dribbling over the skin and Jongdae wraps his hand around both lengths, squeezing.
“Fuck,” he groans, feeling his balls tensing.
Jongin lets out a similar sentiment from where his face is buried in Jongdae’s neck, teeth nibbling over the defined veins under the skin. They start rutting together and Jongdae hasn't frisked so recklessly since high school but he can't stop. It feels so good. His mind is clouded with pleasure and not rain for the first time in months and he holds onto it, riding out the euphoria for as long as possible.
“Jongdae… I…” Jongin’s hips are losing pace, stuttering erratically.
Grunting in response, Jongdae uses both hands to squeeze their cocks, creating a nice little vice for them. In this position on the counter he can't move his hips like Jongin, but the other is setting up such a nice pace and pressure Jongdae knows he'll find release easily enough.
“Fuck, Jongdae-” Jongin’s voice breaks and that's the only warning he gives before he orgasms, his release spilling over Jongdae’s cock and fingers.
There's still not quite enough friction, especially now with the cum on their skin, and Jongdae lets out a slight noise of frustration. As if on cue, Jongin pulls away and drops to squat, wrapping Jongdae’s legs around his head and mouthing over his cock. Jongdae groans at the sight, Jongin’s tan skin against his own angry pink flesh, and when Jongin looks up and makes eye contact, Jongdae reaches down to start jerking his cock.
“Fuck yeah,” Jongin pulls off, lapping at the crown of Jongdae’s erection. “Cum in my mouth, Jongdae.”
“Cum in me,” Jongdae hears Kai’s kittenish voice in his head, an echo of Jongin’s timbre. “Fill me up with your cum, baby, make me leak for days.”
Stars explode behind Jongdae’s closed lids and he gasps when he releases. Pulse after pulse spills onto Jongin’s waiting tongue and when he's done Jongdae slumps back against the cupboards, heart hammering, panic starting to settle as Jongin straightens and wipes his mouth.
“Get out,” Jongdae’s voice is barely a whisper.
“What-?” Jongin frowns in understandable confusion, his fingers frozen on his cum-covered chin.
“Get out,” Jongdae says louder, his voice catching with a bit of hysteria. What has he done? He fixes his pants and gets off of the counter, pushing Jongin’s shoulders lightly. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Jongin stumbles back and looks every bit like a wounded puppy. “But-”
“Out!” Jongdae yells. He’s starting to feel his defenses break down. He reaches for Jongin’s pants, haphazardly buttoning them up again all the while trying to push the man out of his kitchen. “Get out, I’m so fucking stupid-”
Jongin’s arms wrap around Jongdae so tightly, so securely, that Jongdae’s only reaction is to sag against him and whimper. Jongin wobbles a bit with the dead weight and then gently brings them both down onto the floor, holding Jongdae tighter still and rocking gently back and forth. He shushes Jongdae’s whimpers, his noises of defeat, hands petting and soothing and this isn’t right, this isn’t what Jongdae wants, or needs, he’s not in his right mind at all-
“I’m sorry,” Jongin says softly. He sounds a little choked up. “I’m sorry, Jongdae…”
It’s silent in the apartment. The scent of sex is stuck in Jongdae’s nostrils.
Jongin stays with him until he passes out from exhaustion, right there in the middle of the kitchen floor.
-
“You fucked him and now it's ok for him to hang around like this?” Sehun snorts. It's barely been twenty-four hours since Sehun woke up to Jongin depositing a nearly comatose Jongdae into bed and upon hearing of the transgressions that occurred in the kitchen, Sehun has been understandably irritated.
“Sehun,” Jongdae rubs at his brow and lets out a suffering sigh. “He's not hanging around.”
“He's hanging around, Jongdae.” Sehun burrows into the couch, gaze narrowed at the older man, who is curled up in the recliner. “He brought us breakfast this morning.”
“He's concerned,” Jongdae rolls his eyes.
“He's a suspect,” Sehun snaps. Then he sneers, “Unless his dick was so great you forgot?”
“I don't want to talk about it anymore Sehun,” Jongdae mutters, turning on the television.
“Great.” Sehun stands up with sudden emotion, throwing the blanket onto the couch. “You get to decide everything. Who's a suspect, who's not a suspect, who's dick you put in your mouth. Jesus Jongdae, since when do you-?” he throws his hands up in the air. “He's our Chief.”
Jongdae snaps in turn, from both irritation and embarrassment. “I get it Sehun, ok? I fucked my boss. I fucked the suspect in my own God damn kitchen and we can’t change that so stop fucking talking about it. It’s done.”
It takes three strides of Sehun’s gangly legs to cross over to where Jongdae is. He reaches down to shake Jongdae violently by the shoulders, looking all sorts of pissed off. Slightly startled, but not too rattled to be offended, Jongdae looks up into Sehun’s eyes and is surprised to see them glistening with tears.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Sehun says, his fingers digging into the curve of Jongdae’s shoulders. “Everyone is dying. We’re not even working on the case anymore, we’re just sitting ducks, waiting to be killed. Why? Why haven’t you caught him? Why isn’t Jongin guilty?”
“Sehun…” Jongdae murmurs softly. He reaches up to take ahold of Sehun’s hands.
“When am I going to die?”
Sehun’s broken voice breaks Jongdae’s heart and he tugs the younger down, encouraging him to curl up on Jongdae so he can wrap the blanket around them both. He doesn't have answers and Sehun knows that. They both know how helpless they truly are, and Jongdae hates it. With his arms securely around Sehun, he speaks softly.
“Jongin isn't Kai.” Sehun sniffles in reply. “Kai isn't Jongin. What happened yesterday… Something about it cleared the air, cleared my head. They're not the same person.” It's a gut feeling, one Jongdae hopes he doesn't come to regret. But in all honesty, even if Jongin and Kai are eerily similar in voice, action, and looks, Jongdae doesn't feel right lumping them together anymore.
He can't put his finger on it, but he has a suspicion Kai will confirm or deny sooner or later.
Understandably, Sehun lets out a little frustrated noise. “You’re basing all of this on an orgasm.”
“That’s not-” Jongdae sighs. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
A silence follows his words, and it seems like Sehun doesn’t have any more fight left in him to keep arguing. It both comforts and worries Jongdae that Sehun is just… ok with how everything is panning out. Because Sehun is right: they’re just sitting ducks, right now. There’s no other digging they can do on the case, and Minseok was their biggest resource for basically all relevant information. And Minseok’s death… That just confirmed the fact that the future victims ( “Sacrifices!”, Kai’s voice replies in Jongdae’s head) aren’t going to be mere strangers.
It’s quite obvious that they’re next.
“Did you talk to your mom yesterday?” Jongdae finally asks. “She’s been trying to get ahold of you for a while.”
Sehun’s response is bratty from the crook of Jongdae’s neck, “Did you call your mom?”
Touché.
Sighing, Jongdae reaches for the lever on the side of the chair and reclines them so swiftly Sehun lets out a surprised noise and hangs on for dear life. “No, I didn’t. I… I don’t know what I’d even say to her.”
“I was going to call her,” Sehun continues softly. “But I couldn’t.”
“We should talk to our parents,” Jongdae says.
They’re both very aware of the reason that they should make one final call to their parents, but neither of them are willing to even think about it extensively. Jongdae knows that as soon as his mother picks up the phone she will know that something is wrong. Moms are good for that. And Jongdae has never been able to lie to his mom, even if it were for her own good. But the knowledge that when he says goodbye to her next is probably going to be the last goodbye he gets - and not even in person - pains him more than anything.
Sehun is too weak to call his mother and not open the can of worms that they’re getting consumed by, and Jongdae knows that the last thing Sehun wants is to alarm his mother by saying something reckless like ‘I don’t have long, but I need to tell you I love you’.
So they’ve been stewing alone, together, in the confinement of Jongdae’s apartment, awaiting their fate. Maybe they can write letters instead.
“Hey…” Jongdae speaks up, dropping the subject of family. “Why don’t you hate me?”
Sehun replies with a silent, noncommittal shrug.
“Really,” Jongdae shifts a little and reaches to pull Sehun away from his neck a bit so he can try and look at the younger’s face. He hates the sadness in Sehun’s eyes. “All of this shit…”
“...The moment I met you back in the academy,” Sehun finally speaks, “I decided that I’d always have your back, just like you always had mine.” They don’t really talk about their academy days - mostly for the sake of Sehun’s ego. Jongdae listens patiently. “You saved me from hazings and bullying and all sorts of really dumb stuff that I should have been able to protect myself from. You did it even though you were older and so much better than me. I didn’t even ask you to, but you just… watched out for me. You’re the reason I even graduated.”
Jongdae smiles softly. “I couldn’t let a runt like you get his dreams crushed by those assholes.”
Sehun’s lips curl in the faintest of smiles in return. “This really fucking blows, Jongdae. I’m not even thirty years old- I’m single and I don’t even have a fucking dog to write a will to, and I’m waiting for some psycho to put me out of my misery. I don’t want to leave these four walls, I think I’d rather die of starvation or drown in the bathtub than let Kai axe me, but…” he shrugs softly. “I’m here with you. And I will stay with you until the end.”
Jongdae reaches up to clumsily wipe a tear off of his cheek. Looking up at the ceiling, because he can’t stand how his heart hurts when he looks at Sehun, he swallows thickly and nods.
“I’ll protect you,” he says.
”I’ll protect you,” Jongdae grinned at Sehun from the top bunk, draped over the edge so he could look at the younger. “From all the assholes in the world, ‘kay?”
Sehun rolled his eyes and grabbed his pillow to launch it up at Jongdae’s face. “Whatever. You’re an asshole too, y’know.”
Jongdae caught the pillow and promptly launched it back at Sehun, his grin even bigger than before. “Good thing I’m on your side, huh?”
Sehun lifted his feet and kicked at the underside of Jongdae’s bed, laughing. “Yeah, good.”
“I know,” Sehun whispers, drawing the blanket up to cover them better. After another few moments of silence, Sehun asks, “So… Since when do you like guys?”
Jongdae grabs a couch pillow and tries to smother Sehun with it, loudly changing the subject to what they’ll have for dinner.
They end up falling asleep tangled up in each other, instead.
[ Next]