Snippet 01
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Even though he’s looking down at his folded hands, Zeph can almost see the two locked hands coming down on the back of his neck, throwing him forward. He barely has the time to break his fall, landing in an ungraceful heap, on elbows and knees, legs sending his chair tumbling out of balance. It hurts like hell, and he’s lucky the blonde hasn’t hit hard enough to sever and paralyze. All his instincts scream out to stand up and fight but he won’t. That is the one thing he won’t do. “You- You should hate me! Despise me!” He’s ruthlessly kicked in the abdomen this time, knocking out all his breath and he’s crumpling further, wheezing.
Now everything about him hurts, pain is coursing through him from the two points of impact. “You hit harder than you look,” he coughs out, earning him a vicious nudge in the side, pushing him over onto his back. It’s odd to be the one turning the other cheek, or body part, as it may, when he had been the one who protected the newer recruits for so long. He’d been the one who would take no aggression from anyone, the one who would not pull punches at a sign of weakness.
And look at him now. For better or worse, he was the one on his back, not even lifting a finger to stop any of this. For better, he decides, opening his eyes.
“Why don’t you hate me?” Kogi asks, his voice almost sane and pleasant, if it weren’t for the pin pricks he has for pupils, fear and pain intermingling on his face. “You should despise me, with all I’ve done to hurt you.” He nudges him with his foot again, but there’s no force behind it.
“I don’t hate you,” he manages to croak, still not quite recovered, the coppery taste of blood hinting that he’s got more than the bruise that’s forming on his stomach.
“Even if I killed your brother?” Kogi deals psychological blows as he does physical ones, with no remorse.
“You didn’t kill him.”
“But if I did?” He won’t get a rise out of him, as much as Kogi would like to try.
“You didn’t. And it can’t be undone. That’s all that matters.”
“I… I hit you.” What happened half a moment ago now brought up as an age old hurt. Zeph chuckles and props himself up on an elbow, rubbing his shoulder.
“That you did. Several times actually. And it still hurts.”
“Why won’t you hit me back?” Kogi’s kneeling now, eyes wide, and he looks more like a child than a killer, a poor, lost soul that lashes out, broken beyond repair. What a pair they make. He runs a hand through his hair and coughs again, half laughter, half pain.
“I don’t want to. I would never hurt you.”
Kogi purses his lips but helps him sit up before butting his head into Zeph’s shoulder, fingers in a death grip keeping Zeph’s hands in place, one, a support on the floor, one firm on his bruised stomach. No hugs, apparently, even if the blond looks like he’s in dire need of one. “I’m sorry. Do you need ice? I’m really fucking sorry.”
“I suppose a little won’t hurt,” Zeph sighs, before extricating one of his hands. “Here, you can make it up to me.” It’s a testament to how well he knows the man that he just loops his arm around the other’s waist and pulls, drawing him into his lap. A month ago he would have been chewed up and thrown to the dogs, with barely even a story to tell of how an untrained man half his size got the better of him. Now, he’s disregarding him completely, and the other doesn’t move a muscle to protest, curling up in his lap, forehead still pressed against his shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I don’t hate you.”
“Yes, you do.”
He sighs and strokes up and down the other’s back, the grip on his shoulders echoing with the forming bruise on his neck. “If that makes you feel any better.” He could stay like this for a while and not even mind it, to his own surprise.
Kogi stands abruptly, instead, and stomps off into the kitchen, the unmistakable sound of a fridge door opening following him disappearing out of sight. Ice, right. He staggers up and dusts himself off, making his way into the kitchen. He’s not surprised when he finds Kogi staring dejectedly at a pile of ice already slowly melting on the counter. A sigh and Zeph retrieves a plastic bag from the pile in the corner, pouring some in there and wrapping it with a paper towel before shoving the rest back into the freezer. Another cough and he shoves it under his shirt, shivering. Kogi is opening the freezer again. “What are you doing?”
“Your neck…” He leaves the door open to go get a bag and a paper towel before returning to grab some ice and easing it shut, like it could break. “Here, I’ll…”
Zeph sighs again and sits on the table, the only really available surface in the room, and Kogi clambers inelegantly up behind him, knees to either side of Zeph’s hips. The ice feels nice on the heated skin and the other presses his lips to the top of his head, fingers roaming along Zeph’s shoulder. He focuses on those feelings instead of the dulling aches, following the gentle strokes of cool fingers to his collar and along his jaw. They settle on his neck and, after all that just happened he should probably be a little more wary but he can’t. He seems to get off on adrenaline these days. He lifts the palm up to his lips, kissing the pads of the fingers and along the line of the forefinger into the crease of the thumb, tracking how the breathing against his scalp changes from shallow and barely there, to longer and deeper.
He teases the soft skin between thumb and forefinger, and earns himself a gentle nip on his ear, chuckling. “We could fuck if you want.”
“Is this some sort of performance - reward system? Do you like getting beat up?”
“Maybe if it’s you.”
Kogi snorts into his hair. “Fucking masochist. Why do I keep you around?”
“It wouldn’t be as fun otherwise. And maybe it’s a reward for saying you’re sorry.” He gets a bite on his shoulder.
“Are you trying to take advantage of my remorseful state?”
“No. Just telling you I want you.” The words sound shallow, even if they are true on the surface. “If you couldn’t tell before.” Of course, he doesn’t think he’s quite ready to know exactly how deep that particular rabbit hole goes.