stained glass: chapter 2
stained glass: chapter 2
yunho ♥ jaejoong | yoochun ♥ fc | jaejoong ♥ bi/jihoon
romance | drama | angst | AU | R
+3,370 words
beta-ed by: yaoi_hoshi. ♥ :D
summary: of drag queens and crime; lust denied and fulfilled.
warning: contains drag-queens!jaechun, mafia!homin and violence - AND IN THIS CHAPTER ROUGH SMEX D8. don't say i didn't warn you.
and there will be another pairing along the way, but i'll keep that a secret for now it's jae/rain! but err, i still have other pairings that are yet to be established. umm. yes. now, uh, off you go to the fic.
[ prologue][ one]
--
Two;
The heat burned into Yoochun’s skin, ripping out brittle moans from his mouth as he felt the man’s hand trail up his thigh and touch his front. The hand squeezed his aching length almost painfully before pulling away and sneaking under to spread his legs apart.
His blood red skirt hitched up his legs, and he felt his underwear being pulled down to his knees, staying there for mere seconds before falling on the dirty back-alley tar, like sin coiled around his high heels. Yoochun bit his bottom lips when familiar oiled fingers probed into him, and he gasped into his clenched fist, head pressed against the wall.
“Slow…please…s-slow down…” Yoochun pleaded tearfully. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep the sobbing lodged away in his throat as the pain gnawed into his guts, tearing into his waning soul. There was not a morsel of gentleness in his lover’s ministrations, and he begged again, wanting a bit of mercy. The man ignored his pleas as he continued to breathe heavily unto Yoochun’s pale neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin and leaving marks of his wanton need on him.
“I thought you liked it this way, baby... I thought you… I know you like it when I take you roughly, like this. You like this, don’t you? Tell me, Yoona… scream it.”
Yoochun felt it - three fingers - and before he could grasp the reality he felt another one pressing in - moving inside him at a speed he couldn’t take. Pain shot through his whole body and he tensed, brain freezing and heart thumping at the onslaught. God, no, please no! Not this way!
“Dong… hoon… pl-please… I-I-I can’t… it… hurts…” Yoochun gritted out as he clawed at the granite wall. Donghoon grunted and bit him harder, refusing to listen to Yoochun’s broken mewl amidst the haze of his lust. The hostess gasped, pain overtaking his senses; for a second his imagined future flashed before his eyes, and he felt his body giving up, surrendering in defeat.
Soulless, Yoochun limped against the wall, held up only by Donghoon’s strong grips on his hips.
No, this was not the way he wanted to be treated by a lover, but Yoochun couldn’t say ‘no’, couldn’t risk being unloved by the man who had promised him better days outside the hell that was his life. He did not want to live forever stuck between dawn and dusk, scrapping meals from money he pulled out of horny men’s pockets, money that was supposed to feed a family, wives and children. He just wanted a semblance of a ‘normal’ life, with a lover who accepted him as he was and loved him as much as he did. He wanted to take care of Jaejoong, for once, wanted to haul them out of this sinful market of worthless bodies and dolled-up faces. He wanted to stop suffering the ache of long-lost innocence, wanted to carve back the happiness and get back his missing laughter. He wasn't asking for marriage, or a big house with cars and a yacht; he didn't need those material things.
Yoochun just wanted to be loved.
And Donghoon loved him. He told Yoochun he did, and Yoochun wanted to believe in those words because what little esteem he had left had been crushed by the harsh parting words of a family who despised his very existence. He was not supposed to live, his mother had said; he was an abomination and a shame, his father had yelled. He remembered how his younger brother had looked at him like he was an illusion, not a person but a grave disappointment. As far as his family was concerned Yoochun didn't die - he simply never existed.
He wondered if humans can rot from inside and still live like he did.
“I want it, oppa! Please…put it in me! Fuck me, oppa, fuck me hard!” Yoochun cried out as black tears rained down his cheeks, staining his face with the color of shame. This was what he was reduced to - seeking love and begging for it from someone who was willing to give. Jaejoong would be hell mad if he knew, but Yoochun couldn’t care less now, couldn’t stop the self-hatred blooming at the center of his core as he let himself being manhandled by Donghoon’s insatiable lust. This was love for him, the taking of his body by a man who wanted him for himself. His palms scrapped the rough surface as he was pounded from behind, and at the man’s order Yoochun cried louder, simultaneously faking desire and wanting to die.
*
The door of the VIP room was as red as blood. Hidden from the noisy bustle of the front hall, the room was reserved for special guests with money to waste but that did not want to get caught fondling another of the same gender. Jaejoong knew Mama made a fortune from visitors of this room, and he had seen his fellow ‘girls’ getting sent here often enough to know what went on behind the door. He had been here for a few times himself, but never for long, because the customers usually had sex in their thoughts and Jaejoong’s ‘no sex’ policy was infamous for turning off the nasty old leers.
Jaejoong knew he was purportedly Number One because men loved hearing him sing. If looks were to go by, he knew he would lose to the petite Jiwon, whose wits matched his witchery. Jiwon was an expert when it came to making men eat out of his small hands, but no one could defeat Jaejoong on stage. On that planks and plywood, he was the ‘queen’ of all queens - he was a demi-goddess. He saw how eyes widened when he belted out tunes of desires and aches, and how jaws dropped when he moved on the stage, swaying his hips and running manicured fingers down his sides and front. The thunderous claps after his every performance fed his ego like nothing else did, and in this place where the hostesses’ egos were nothing but shrapnels of their discarded manliness, he treasured his small proof of existence like a mother would treasure her child.
Jaejoong had no qualms about caressing the customers’ sick minds from the stage, as long as they kept their hands to themselves and nowhere near his body. There were stray hands, of course, but Mama had always been quick to come to his rescue whenever the stubborn ones refused to accept Jaejoong’s ‘no’. Some nights Jaejoong sang until his throat felt like it had been scrapped raw, but still he would rather abstain from his favorite drinks and food than have men pawing him all over. He was not anyone’s toy to play with.
And again, his thought went to Yoochun. Jaejoong sighed, feeling like the biggest failure as a friend. What friend watched his own back and neglected the other? Every time Jaejoong stepped on stage he looked for Yoochun in the dim-lighted club, wanting to reach for him but knowing he couldn’t. He hated being helpless more than anything in this world.
Jaejoong stared at the closed red door, one hand poised up. He couldn’t bring himself to knock at the cherrywood, but he also knew that he couldn't turn away from it even if he wanted to. Taking a deep breath, Jaejoong finally knocked on the door twice and waited.
A gruff voice answered, and Jaejoong felt his guts churn with fear as he opened the door. Six men sat on the U-shaped sofa, a bottle of wine and some delicacies spread out on the table in the middle. Jae bowed down a little as a sign of respect, and he heard someone chuckle as he straightened back up.
“Jaejin…isn’t it? ” the man in the middle - Hyungnim, Jaejoong guessed - commented as he looked at the hostess with assessing eyes, his gaze raking up the length of Jaejoong’s body, measuring his worth. Jaejoong felt like he had just been stripped down to his naked skin from the man’s intense stare, and he fidgeted on his feet.
“You look prettier off the stage. Definitely,” the man drawled. Jaejoong bit the inside of his cheek as he willed out a shy smile, looking down at the floor to hide his disgust. This guest was not one he should mess with, he reminded himself. Mama had warned him countless times not to do anything reckless towards the man, or else everyone was going to suffer.
Hooking a finger forward, the man signaled Jaejoong to come nearer. The two men on the left moved to let him in, and Jaejoong waded through the space to take his seat next to Hyungnim. As soon as he sat down on the dark-colored couch, the other five men stood, excusing themselves from the room.
Jaejoong swore he could have felt his heart thump painfully inside his chest when the door clicked shut. He tried to calm the fuck down, wanting at least a bit of control in the tight situation he was in. The man on his right snickered, and Jaejoong lifted his head up to see what he found amusing.
The gentle smile that he saw threw him off-balance, and for a moment Jaejoong thought he saw genuine kindness there.
“Don’t look so scared, sweetface…I’m not going to do anything to you,” the man said, one hand reaching out to pour whiskey into a shot glass for Jaejoong. Jaejoong felt himself blush out of character as Hyungnim handed him his drink, and he sipped it carefully, not wanting to speak.
The man chuckled again, and Jaejoong sneaked a side glance at him, before continuing sipping on the alcohol.
“Are you going to keep silent all night? Ah…I paid a high price for this room only to get a mute hostess who teases me with her sinful mouth latched on a glass. Oh, what terrible fate I have gotten myself into…”
A grin broke on Jaejoong’s face, and he turned around to bat his lashes bashfully towards the man.
“I’m not mute,” he replied simply, setting down the glass of the wooden table. The gang leader smiled, and Jaejoong decided that he liked the way the man’s eyes crinkled when his lips curved upwards. He looked so warm, so safe. “And you’ve paid for me, not for the room. It smells.”
The man guffawed, laughter rising from his belly without pretense. Jaejoong smiled wider, leaning forward to pour a drink for his customer. It was rare for him to find someone he was able to grow so comfortable with in such a short span of time, even though his skin tingled knowing this man was not an ordinary salary man.
“You bite. I love it when my girls bite,” the dark-haired Adonis teased, smiling as he took the glass from Jaejoong. Jaejoong snorted indignantly, a sweet grunting sound that only served to widen the man’s smile more.
“If I bite you won’t have anything left. My teeth are incredibly sharp.”
The man laughed again, “I mean your words, baby.”
“Words can’t bite.”
“Yours do.”
“Ah, I’m an exception then,” Jaejoong grinned, feeling relaxed for the first time in front of a customer. The man looked at him warmly before reaching out one hand to tuck some stray hair behind Jae’s right ear. His eyes widened at the sudden action, but he found himself unable to pull away from the sweetness of the gesture. Hyungnim’s eyes were so soft, pulling him deeper into a vortex of emotions.
“You are, baby. I didn’t know that when I asked for Aknyeo’s beloved nightingale, I would be graced by an angel instead.”
*
Junsu fell back against the dumpsters, not caring if the stench of rotten leftovers seeped through his sweat-drenched shirt. He was too shocked by what he had seen, muted by the horror of what he had witnessed. Grappling at thin air like a drowning man, Junsu fought the tears that were threatening to come out. But like everything else in his life, the tears leaked anyways, staining his denial with a wash of reality.
He already knew Kang Donghoon was a cheating jerk. But no, Junsu didn’t know his brother-in-law was also a sick bastard who got off fucking drag queens. Bile rose to his throat as he gulped a foul breath in - and before he knew it he was barfing out his guts onto the filthy drain, sobbing as he did.
God, no, no! This was not supposed to happen! Junsu repeated to himself, trying hard to find answers in his question-filled mind. They were supposed to be a happy family... Donghoon had promised he was going to take care of Jisun and Junsu as best as he could.
Junsu was only eight when Donghoon had married Jisun, but he remembered how Donghoon had been his ‘Superman’ then - the hero who saved their family from the dread of poverty when he fell in love with Junsu’s sister. Their happiness was short-lived, though, and after Daesung was born there was absolutely no joy in the house. Dambi came into the world a few years later; and for a while Junsu had hoped the girl could have brought back the hyung he once knew and respected.
But nothing in Junsu’s life had ever gone according to his wish. Even his parents had left him early, despite his angry tirades and endless begging to God to make them live. He felt so opressed by the burden of his life, and he thought it wasn't fair that he had to go through this when others got to live ordinary life and smile and laugh.
All because of that bastard he once called brother-in-law. No wonder Donghoon had ignored his sister so blatantly over the years - he didn't even like women. The sick bastard got his dick hard from half-women, those shameless sluts and cocksuckers. Junsu hated them so much he could die.
What was he supposed to do, now? He had thought that stalking Donghoon would let him see the mistress he had kept a secret from his family, but Junsu had no idea that the ‘she’ he had imagined was actually a ‘he’. No, scratch that. The person he had seen pinned against the wall begging to be fucked was not even a ‘he’… just an ‘it’.
He heard footsteps coming his way and scooted back against the wall behind the dumpster, waiting in fear for Donghoon to emerge from the shadows and beat him to death; but the footsteps echoed past him, and he sagged in relief. He needed to get back home. It was late and he had to make sure the kids were okay. He had hidden the wines in the laundry closet, but Jisun would probably find ways to look for them if he didn't hurry back.
Despite this, though, his feet refused to move. He heard the faint sound of people talking, and he was too scared to be seen by his brother-in-law and his whore to come out of his hiding. Junsu berated his cowardly self, hating the feeling of hopelessness but unable to shake it off.
They were still there, Junsu could feel it. They were still there, probably having a go at the sick act again, so he bit his lips and closed his eyes tight. To add to his misery, images of his sister’s face and her children’s sweet smiles flashed repeatedly in his mind, interlaced with the revolting scene he had just witnessed. Junsu curled into himself and hugged his knees against his chest, heaving harshly as he cried.
It was the longest night of his life.
*
Yunho sidestepped a rolling can, kicked by an unknown stranger in the shadows. He cursed under his breath, squinting at the darkness to catch a glimpse of the proprietor but failing. The sounds of tiny feet scurrying away scratched the malevolent thought from his mind - it was just the back alley’s vermin. Nothing to be mad at, Yunho mused, it was their territory after all. He was the one crossing their paths.
“Hyung…” Changmin piped in from behind him, “why are we going in through the back door? We are here as guests, aren’t we?”
Yunho grinned as he turned around to face his younger comrade, lifting his brows, “What gangsters go in through the front door?”
Changmin snorted, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the other man.
“Yeah, right. And I bet Hyungnim went in through this stinking back alley exit too, huh?”
Yunho laughed, pulling Changmin close with a one-armed hug. “You’re so cute when you get all bratty like that. Heh. I wasn’t serious when I said that bit about gangsters. I just… look at us, Min! Do you think Hyungnim would like it if we go through the front door in our smelly clothes and embarrass him in front of others?”
Changmin huffed, pushing Yunho away from him and shaking off the remaining feel of his touch, “I don’t think Hyungnim would mind it much. Since when does he care about what we wear? He told us to be us, hyung… and we are thugs. Not classy club customers dressed in pressed suits and shiny shoes. Hyungnim is different because he likes to look nice…and because he’s the leader. And don’t ever hug me like that again… I don’t like it.”
Yunho shrugged, turning his back to Changmin as he approached the club’s green backdoor. Not waiting for the boy to catch up, he stepped into the narrow hallway, the faint buzzing sound of a song filtering through to his ears. Yunho began nodding to the music, almost giving in to his reflex to pop his way to the front. He heard Changmin follow him closely behind and smiled, knowing well that the boy was only half-serious with his cutting reply. He had been Yunho’s subordinate for two years now, and while he was cynical and stingy with his food, Changmin was the best partner Yunho could ever hope for. The boy was loyal to his brother-in-crime, and his hefty punches were legendary when it came to punching stubborn debtors in the guts.
A woman in her forties walked into the small room at the end of the hallway and gasped in surprise when she saw them. Yunho smiled, bowing a little to apologize for his impudence.
“I’m sorry we came in from the back, but I don’t think we’re allowed to come in from the front door dressed as we are. We’re here for Jihoon-hyungnim… can you show us where he is, noona?”, Yunho said softly, and he grinned inwardly when he saw the woman smile at him, her lashes fluttering flirtatiously.
“Ah, you’re our Hyungnim’s brothers! Aish, you're dressed fine, dear…any gorgeous, sexy man is welcomed in my club. Next time do come in through the front door… I’ll make sure the big guy knows who you are and let you in. The back of the club is so dirty! I’m so ashamed!” the woman cried out, clasping Yunho’s hand as she dragged him up the stairs. Yunho knew that if he glanced back at Changmin he would catch the younger man mouthing ‘I told you so’, so he didn’t.
They arrived in front of a red door. Just as Yunho was about to knock on it, the woman caught his hand, looking at him worriedly.
“I forgot to tell you that the others are downstairs in the main hall… and Hyungnim is alone with one of our girls. Maybe we shouldn’t-”
“Don’t worry, noona…hyung knew I was coming.”
Yunho smiled gently at her before knocking on the door twice, not missing on how the woman’s eyes widened at his fearless action. A voice answered from within and Yunho opened the door, and he was greeted by the sight of his gang leader laughing with a long-haired hostess, seemingly comfortable in each other’s company.
Yunho’s jaw dropped open when said hostess turned to face him. Their eyes met and Yunho felt his heart stop beating as blood rushed to his brain, overworking his thoughts.
He knew those hauntingly beautiful eyes. And God damn, it felt like a deja vu.
--[TBC]
yunho ♥ jaejoong | yoochun ♥ fc | jaejoong ♥ bi/jihoon
romance | drama | angst | AU | R
+3,370 words
beta-ed by: yaoi_hoshi. ♥ :D
summary: of drag queens and crime; lust denied and fulfilled.
warning: contains drag-queens!jaechun, mafia!homin and violence - AND IN THIS CHAPTER ROUGH SMEX D8. don't say i didn't warn you.
and there will be another pairing along the way, but i'll keep that a secret for now it's jae/rain! but err, i still have other pairings that are yet to be established. umm. yes. now, uh, off you go to the fic.
[ prologue][ one]
--
Two;
The heat burned into Yoochun’s skin, ripping out brittle moans from his mouth as he felt the man’s hand trail up his thigh and touch his front. The hand squeezed his aching length almost painfully before pulling away and sneaking under to spread his legs apart.
His blood red skirt hitched up his legs, and he felt his underwear being pulled down to his knees, staying there for mere seconds before falling on the dirty back-alley tar, like sin coiled around his high heels. Yoochun bit his bottom lips when familiar oiled fingers probed into him, and he gasped into his clenched fist, head pressed against the wall.
“Slow…please…s-slow down…” Yoochun pleaded tearfully. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep the sobbing lodged away in his throat as the pain gnawed into his guts, tearing into his waning soul. There was not a morsel of gentleness in his lover’s ministrations, and he begged again, wanting a bit of mercy. The man ignored his pleas as he continued to breathe heavily unto Yoochun’s pale neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin and leaving marks of his wanton need on him.
“I thought you liked it this way, baby... I thought you… I know you like it when I take you roughly, like this. You like this, don’t you? Tell me, Yoona… scream it.”
Yoochun felt it - three fingers - and before he could grasp the reality he felt another one pressing in - moving inside him at a speed he couldn’t take. Pain shot through his whole body and he tensed, brain freezing and heart thumping at the onslaught. God, no, please no! Not this way!
“Dong… hoon… pl-please… I-I-I can’t… it… hurts…” Yoochun gritted out as he clawed at the granite wall. Donghoon grunted and bit him harder, refusing to listen to Yoochun’s broken mewl amidst the haze of his lust. The hostess gasped, pain overtaking his senses; for a second his imagined future flashed before his eyes, and he felt his body giving up, surrendering in defeat.
Soulless, Yoochun limped against the wall, held up only by Donghoon’s strong grips on his hips.
No, this was not the way he wanted to be treated by a lover, but Yoochun couldn’t say ‘no’, couldn’t risk being unloved by the man who had promised him better days outside the hell that was his life. He did not want to live forever stuck between dawn and dusk, scrapping meals from money he pulled out of horny men’s pockets, money that was supposed to feed a family, wives and children. He just wanted a semblance of a ‘normal’ life, with a lover who accepted him as he was and loved him as much as he did. He wanted to take care of Jaejoong, for once, wanted to haul them out of this sinful market of worthless bodies and dolled-up faces. He wanted to stop suffering the ache of long-lost innocence, wanted to carve back the happiness and get back his missing laughter. He wasn't asking for marriage, or a big house with cars and a yacht; he didn't need those material things.
Yoochun just wanted to be loved.
And Donghoon loved him. He told Yoochun he did, and Yoochun wanted to believe in those words because what little esteem he had left had been crushed by the harsh parting words of a family who despised his very existence. He was not supposed to live, his mother had said; he was an abomination and a shame, his father had yelled. He remembered how his younger brother had looked at him like he was an illusion, not a person but a grave disappointment. As far as his family was concerned Yoochun didn't die - he simply never existed.
He wondered if humans can rot from inside and still live like he did.
“I want it, oppa! Please…put it in me! Fuck me, oppa, fuck me hard!” Yoochun cried out as black tears rained down his cheeks, staining his face with the color of shame. This was what he was reduced to - seeking love and begging for it from someone who was willing to give. Jaejoong would be hell mad if he knew, but Yoochun couldn’t care less now, couldn’t stop the self-hatred blooming at the center of his core as he let himself being manhandled by Donghoon’s insatiable lust. This was love for him, the taking of his body by a man who wanted him for himself. His palms scrapped the rough surface as he was pounded from behind, and at the man’s order Yoochun cried louder, simultaneously faking desire and wanting to die.
*
The door of the VIP room was as red as blood. Hidden from the noisy bustle of the front hall, the room was reserved for special guests with money to waste but that did not want to get caught fondling another of the same gender. Jaejoong knew Mama made a fortune from visitors of this room, and he had seen his fellow ‘girls’ getting sent here often enough to know what went on behind the door. He had been here for a few times himself, but never for long, because the customers usually had sex in their thoughts and Jaejoong’s ‘no sex’ policy was infamous for turning off the nasty old leers.
Jaejoong knew he was purportedly Number One because men loved hearing him sing. If looks were to go by, he knew he would lose to the petite Jiwon, whose wits matched his witchery. Jiwon was an expert when it came to making men eat out of his small hands, but no one could defeat Jaejoong on stage. On that planks and plywood, he was the ‘queen’ of all queens - he was a demi-goddess. He saw how eyes widened when he belted out tunes of desires and aches, and how jaws dropped when he moved on the stage, swaying his hips and running manicured fingers down his sides and front. The thunderous claps after his every performance fed his ego like nothing else did, and in this place where the hostesses’ egos were nothing but shrapnels of their discarded manliness, he treasured his small proof of existence like a mother would treasure her child.
Jaejoong had no qualms about caressing the customers’ sick minds from the stage, as long as they kept their hands to themselves and nowhere near his body. There were stray hands, of course, but Mama had always been quick to come to his rescue whenever the stubborn ones refused to accept Jaejoong’s ‘no’. Some nights Jaejoong sang until his throat felt like it had been scrapped raw, but still he would rather abstain from his favorite drinks and food than have men pawing him all over. He was not anyone’s toy to play with.
And again, his thought went to Yoochun. Jaejoong sighed, feeling like the biggest failure as a friend. What friend watched his own back and neglected the other? Every time Jaejoong stepped on stage he looked for Yoochun in the dim-lighted club, wanting to reach for him but knowing he couldn’t. He hated being helpless more than anything in this world.
Jaejoong stared at the closed red door, one hand poised up. He couldn’t bring himself to knock at the cherrywood, but he also knew that he couldn't turn away from it even if he wanted to. Taking a deep breath, Jaejoong finally knocked on the door twice and waited.
A gruff voice answered, and Jaejoong felt his guts churn with fear as he opened the door. Six men sat on the U-shaped sofa, a bottle of wine and some delicacies spread out on the table in the middle. Jae bowed down a little as a sign of respect, and he heard someone chuckle as he straightened back up.
“Jaejin…isn’t it? ” the man in the middle - Hyungnim, Jaejoong guessed - commented as he looked at the hostess with assessing eyes, his gaze raking up the length of Jaejoong’s body, measuring his worth. Jaejoong felt like he had just been stripped down to his naked skin from the man’s intense stare, and he fidgeted on his feet.
“You look prettier off the stage. Definitely,” the man drawled. Jaejoong bit the inside of his cheek as he willed out a shy smile, looking down at the floor to hide his disgust. This guest was not one he should mess with, he reminded himself. Mama had warned him countless times not to do anything reckless towards the man, or else everyone was going to suffer.
Hooking a finger forward, the man signaled Jaejoong to come nearer. The two men on the left moved to let him in, and Jaejoong waded through the space to take his seat next to Hyungnim. As soon as he sat down on the dark-colored couch, the other five men stood, excusing themselves from the room.
Jaejoong swore he could have felt his heart thump painfully inside his chest when the door clicked shut. He tried to calm the fuck down, wanting at least a bit of control in the tight situation he was in. The man on his right snickered, and Jaejoong lifted his head up to see what he found amusing.
The gentle smile that he saw threw him off-balance, and for a moment Jaejoong thought he saw genuine kindness there.
“Don’t look so scared, sweetface…I’m not going to do anything to you,” the man said, one hand reaching out to pour whiskey into a shot glass for Jaejoong. Jaejoong felt himself blush out of character as Hyungnim handed him his drink, and he sipped it carefully, not wanting to speak.
The man chuckled again, and Jaejoong sneaked a side glance at him, before continuing sipping on the alcohol.
“Are you going to keep silent all night? Ah…I paid a high price for this room only to get a mute hostess who teases me with her sinful mouth latched on a glass. Oh, what terrible fate I have gotten myself into…”
A grin broke on Jaejoong’s face, and he turned around to bat his lashes bashfully towards the man.
“I’m not mute,” he replied simply, setting down the glass of the wooden table. The gang leader smiled, and Jaejoong decided that he liked the way the man’s eyes crinkled when his lips curved upwards. He looked so warm, so safe. “And you’ve paid for me, not for the room. It smells.”
The man guffawed, laughter rising from his belly without pretense. Jaejoong smiled wider, leaning forward to pour a drink for his customer. It was rare for him to find someone he was able to grow so comfortable with in such a short span of time, even though his skin tingled knowing this man was not an ordinary salary man.
“You bite. I love it when my girls bite,” the dark-haired Adonis teased, smiling as he took the glass from Jaejoong. Jaejoong snorted indignantly, a sweet grunting sound that only served to widen the man’s smile more.
“If I bite you won’t have anything left. My teeth are incredibly sharp.”
The man laughed again, “I mean your words, baby.”
“Words can’t bite.”
“Yours do.”
“Ah, I’m an exception then,” Jaejoong grinned, feeling relaxed for the first time in front of a customer. The man looked at him warmly before reaching out one hand to tuck some stray hair behind Jae’s right ear. His eyes widened at the sudden action, but he found himself unable to pull away from the sweetness of the gesture. Hyungnim’s eyes were so soft, pulling him deeper into a vortex of emotions.
“You are, baby. I didn’t know that when I asked for Aknyeo’s beloved nightingale, I would be graced by an angel instead.”
*
Junsu fell back against the dumpsters, not caring if the stench of rotten leftovers seeped through his sweat-drenched shirt. He was too shocked by what he had seen, muted by the horror of what he had witnessed. Grappling at thin air like a drowning man, Junsu fought the tears that were threatening to come out. But like everything else in his life, the tears leaked anyways, staining his denial with a wash of reality.
He already knew Kang Donghoon was a cheating jerk. But no, Junsu didn’t know his brother-in-law was also a sick bastard who got off fucking drag queens. Bile rose to his throat as he gulped a foul breath in - and before he knew it he was barfing out his guts onto the filthy drain, sobbing as he did.
God, no, no! This was not supposed to happen! Junsu repeated to himself, trying hard to find answers in his question-filled mind. They were supposed to be a happy family... Donghoon had promised he was going to take care of Jisun and Junsu as best as he could.
Junsu was only eight when Donghoon had married Jisun, but he remembered how Donghoon had been his ‘Superman’ then - the hero who saved their family from the dread of poverty when he fell in love with Junsu’s sister. Their happiness was short-lived, though, and after Daesung was born there was absolutely no joy in the house. Dambi came into the world a few years later; and for a while Junsu had hoped the girl could have brought back the hyung he once knew and respected.
But nothing in Junsu’s life had ever gone according to his wish. Even his parents had left him early, despite his angry tirades and endless begging to God to make them live. He felt so opressed by the burden of his life, and he thought it wasn't fair that he had to go through this when others got to live ordinary life and smile and laugh.
All because of that bastard he once called brother-in-law. No wonder Donghoon had ignored his sister so blatantly over the years - he didn't even like women. The sick bastard got his dick hard from half-women, those shameless sluts and cocksuckers. Junsu hated them so much he could die.
What was he supposed to do, now? He had thought that stalking Donghoon would let him see the mistress he had kept a secret from his family, but Junsu had no idea that the ‘she’ he had imagined was actually a ‘he’. No, scratch that. The person he had seen pinned against the wall begging to be fucked was not even a ‘he’… just an ‘it’.
He heard footsteps coming his way and scooted back against the wall behind the dumpster, waiting in fear for Donghoon to emerge from the shadows and beat him to death; but the footsteps echoed past him, and he sagged in relief. He needed to get back home. It was late and he had to make sure the kids were okay. He had hidden the wines in the laundry closet, but Jisun would probably find ways to look for them if he didn't hurry back.
Despite this, though, his feet refused to move. He heard the faint sound of people talking, and he was too scared to be seen by his brother-in-law and his whore to come out of his hiding. Junsu berated his cowardly self, hating the feeling of hopelessness but unable to shake it off.
They were still there, Junsu could feel it. They were still there, probably having a go at the sick act again, so he bit his lips and closed his eyes tight. To add to his misery, images of his sister’s face and her children’s sweet smiles flashed repeatedly in his mind, interlaced with the revolting scene he had just witnessed. Junsu curled into himself and hugged his knees against his chest, heaving harshly as he cried.
It was the longest night of his life.
*
Yunho sidestepped a rolling can, kicked by an unknown stranger in the shadows. He cursed under his breath, squinting at the darkness to catch a glimpse of the proprietor but failing. The sounds of tiny feet scurrying away scratched the malevolent thought from his mind - it was just the back alley’s vermin. Nothing to be mad at, Yunho mused, it was their territory after all. He was the one crossing their paths.
“Hyung…” Changmin piped in from behind him, “why are we going in through the back door? We are here as guests, aren’t we?”
Yunho grinned as he turned around to face his younger comrade, lifting his brows, “What gangsters go in through the front door?”
Changmin snorted, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the other man.
“Yeah, right. And I bet Hyungnim went in through this stinking back alley exit too, huh?”
Yunho laughed, pulling Changmin close with a one-armed hug. “You’re so cute when you get all bratty like that. Heh. I wasn’t serious when I said that bit about gangsters. I just… look at us, Min! Do you think Hyungnim would like it if we go through the front door in our smelly clothes and embarrass him in front of others?”
Changmin huffed, pushing Yunho away from him and shaking off the remaining feel of his touch, “I don’t think Hyungnim would mind it much. Since when does he care about what we wear? He told us to be us, hyung… and we are thugs. Not classy club customers dressed in pressed suits and shiny shoes. Hyungnim is different because he likes to look nice…and because he’s the leader. And don’t ever hug me like that again… I don’t like it.”
Yunho shrugged, turning his back to Changmin as he approached the club’s green backdoor. Not waiting for the boy to catch up, he stepped into the narrow hallway, the faint buzzing sound of a song filtering through to his ears. Yunho began nodding to the music, almost giving in to his reflex to pop his way to the front. He heard Changmin follow him closely behind and smiled, knowing well that the boy was only half-serious with his cutting reply. He had been Yunho’s subordinate for two years now, and while he was cynical and stingy with his food, Changmin was the best partner Yunho could ever hope for. The boy was loyal to his brother-in-crime, and his hefty punches were legendary when it came to punching stubborn debtors in the guts.
A woman in her forties walked into the small room at the end of the hallway and gasped in surprise when she saw them. Yunho smiled, bowing a little to apologize for his impudence.
“I’m sorry we came in from the back, but I don’t think we’re allowed to come in from the front door dressed as we are. We’re here for Jihoon-hyungnim… can you show us where he is, noona?”, Yunho said softly, and he grinned inwardly when he saw the woman smile at him, her lashes fluttering flirtatiously.
“Ah, you’re our Hyungnim’s brothers! Aish, you're dressed fine, dear…any gorgeous, sexy man is welcomed in my club. Next time do come in through the front door… I’ll make sure the big guy knows who you are and let you in. The back of the club is so dirty! I’m so ashamed!” the woman cried out, clasping Yunho’s hand as she dragged him up the stairs. Yunho knew that if he glanced back at Changmin he would catch the younger man mouthing ‘I told you so’, so he didn’t.
They arrived in front of a red door. Just as Yunho was about to knock on it, the woman caught his hand, looking at him worriedly.
“I forgot to tell you that the others are downstairs in the main hall… and Hyungnim is alone with one of our girls. Maybe we shouldn’t-”
“Don’t worry, noona…hyung knew I was coming.”
Yunho smiled gently at her before knocking on the door twice, not missing on how the woman’s eyes widened at his fearless action. A voice answered from within and Yunho opened the door, and he was greeted by the sight of his gang leader laughing with a long-haired hostess, seemingly comfortable in each other’s company.
Yunho’s jaw dropped open when said hostess turned to face him. Their eyes met and Yunho felt his heart stop beating as blood rushed to his brain, overworking his thoughts.
He knew those hauntingly beautiful eyes. And God damn, it felt like a deja vu.
--[TBC]