Fragile 1/3
Title: Fragile
Pairing: Changmin x Yoochun
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: When I close my eyes, they are mine.
Genre: AU, angst, drama, romance
Length: Chaptered
Warnings: Unbeta-ed, rape, incest, underage sex, twisted parentship.
Summary: ‘I love you’ soon becomes a meaningless phrase for Yoochun. His mother takes him more and more often to those strange friends of hers, sometimes leaving him and sometimes watching while those strangers do those things to him. She tells him it’s normal, she tells him he has to do it in order to prove how much he loves her. So Yoochun complies.
When his mother gets remarried, she tells her son he doesn't have to prove anything anymore. Yoochun thinks this is the end of the uncomfortable experiences but he's wrong. Things escalate even more when his stepbrother comes back from the army.
The first time Yoochun had been raped was when he was nine years old.
His mother had taken him to the amusement park. He had gone into the roller coaster, the ferris wheel, the merry-go-round and many other attractions. Yoochun remembered the elated feeling of utter freedom and he had thought he would never forget that day. He had been right; he would never forget that day but not because of the happy memories. The gleeful memories seemed too blurry now that he looked back and he wasn’t even able to remember the sound of his own carefree laughing.
“Aren’t you happy?” his mother had asked him, cupping his small face into her hands. As if the bright smile on his face hadn’t been sign enough already of his happiness, Yoochun had nodded enthusiastically. “Mommy still has to go to a friend. You promise mommy that you’re going to be a good boy and do what I tell you?”
“Of course, mommy!” Yoochun had promised, the bright smile stuck on his face.
They had gone to that friend. It was someone Yoochun had never heard of before and he remembered being proud of his mother’s broad social network. The friend lived in a big white house with a big and beautiful garden. The boy remembered he had smoothed his clothes and tried to comb his hair with his fingers, an earnest try to appear like a good son to the friend of his mother. He shouldn’t embarrass his mother when she had been so nice to him that day.
“Hana-sshi,” the man had spoken. Yoochun still remembered how the man looked. It was a tall man with a muscular and tan body. He had flashed a smile to Yoochun, showing his perfect white and straight teeth. The small boy had smiled shyly back, feeling awkward around someone he barely knew.
That soon changed. They were invited into the big and beautiful house. He remembered being so impressed because the house was so much bigger, cleaner and prettier than theirs. It had only motivated him more to try to impress the handsome man.
They had sat down in the living room and the butler of the man had brought them tea with biscuits. Yoochun had enjoyed it, listening to the conversation between his mother and the man. He didn’t understand what they were talking about but it was soothing to listen to the soft voice of his mother and the low voice of her friend. After a while, his eyelids started to droop and his head became heavy with sleep. He didn’t notice the glances his mother had exchanged with the man, the sleep overpowering his small body.
“Yoochun,” his mother had said, her soft voice cutting through the mists of heavy sleep in his head. “I left the present I’ve brought for Yunho ahjussi in the car. I’ll be right back, just stay here, okay?” She had smiled to him, her brown eyes radiating a calming gentleness towards him. Yoochun had only nodded, his eyes fluttering with sleep.
The door clicked behind him and he could hear the footsteps of his mother disappear. It had been a long day and the little Yoochun had used all his energy in the park, running and playing around. Thick sleep got to him, wrapped securely around him and he found himself slipping into another world.
He didn’t notice how Yunho had stood up, making his way closer to him. Only when he felt a warm and big hand cupping his cheeks did his eyes flutter open. Yoochun looked sleepily at the ahjussi, having a hard time to keep his nodding head straight. The man flashed another one of his beautiful smiles and Yoochun couldn’t do anything else but smile back at him.
And then, Yunho placed a soft kiss on his lips.
Yoochun’s eyes opened in shock and the drowsiness he had felt just a few seconds ago disappeared immediately. At first, he didn’t know what to think. His mother used to give him a quick peck on the lips but that was nothing compared to the intimate gesture with this unknown man. He didn’t know what to do.
Only when Yunho deepened the kiss, his warm tongue slipping into Yoochun’s mouth, his hand moving to Yoochun’s pants to palm the boy’s balls did Yoochun realize that this was definitely off. He screamed and struggled to keep the man away from him. His small hands pushed the broad and muscular chest before him, trying desperately to increase the space between them. Yunho didn’t even budge, his hands squeezing Yoochun’s small shoulders, and the soft kiss became rough.
Tears started to pool in his eyes as Yoochun did the only thing he could think of: he forced his teeth down with as much strength as he could muster and he heard the man scream out in pain. “Fuck, you little bitch, you dared to bite me?” Yunho cursed and before Yoochun could react, he felt a fist making contact with his jaw.
Yoochun cried, tears streaming down his face as he tried to get away from the tall man. His attempts failed miserably and before he knew it, Yunho was all over him again. His screams for his mother were muffled when Yunho’s mouth made contact with his lips again and his small fists made desperate attempts to fight the older man off but nothing seemed to help.
He was overpowered.
Yunho’s hands were all over his body. They ripped through his clothes and before Yoochun knew it, he was lying naked on the floor, his face pressed roughly on the carpet. The big hands were cupping and massaging his balls and it felt so so wrong. Desperate cries escaped from his mouth but this only resulted in a mouthful of carpet.
“Please don’t do this,” Yoochun cried, his tears mingling with the carpet. He couldn’t fight the man off, the weight of Yunho’s body pressing him down. The hands of the older man were everywhere, touching him in all the wrong places. Heavy pants escaped from his own mouth as he still tried to fight the older man off. He was still trying, even though he knew it was hopeless. “Mom! Mommy, help me!”
“You shouldn’t call out for your mother,” Yunho spoke, a smile on his face as he ruined the boy beneath him. The soft and smooth skin was so beautiful, so deliciously untouched. “You’re mine now.”
Yoochun could feel those disgusting hands on his ass, spreading him and then a ripping pain sent him spiraling down to incoherency.
He didn’t even think of fighting against Yunho anymore. All he could do was scream and cry as the pain only became worse. He begged, begged for mercy but all he could do was blurt out incoherent words. His frail and limp body moved at the same pace as Yunho’s muscular body and Yoochun didn’t even fight Yunho when he leaned down to press kisses on his soft lips. He didn’t even fight when the kisses became rougher, Yunho biting on his lips until they bled. He didn’t even fight when Yunho bit his skin, marking him everywhere.
The pain was excruciating, clouding all his senses till all he could do was sob. He could find no more energy in his limp body to fight the older man off. All he was hoping for was the pain to stop.
“Mommy... mommy... mom...” his breath hitched. Every breath was squeezed out of him as he could feel the man above him speeding up his pace. Screams and whimpers were escaping from his mouth but even Yoochun couldn’t make any sense of it. “Please... please... stop, it hurts.”
And then the door opened. The lean figure of his mother came in and a wave of relief flooded Yoochun’s body, expectancy flashing through his eyes. A laugh echoed through the room and it took the boy a minute to realize that the laugh was coming from Yunho. “Little naive boy...” he laughed as he started to ride faster and faster.
More whimpers escaped from Yoochun’s mouth but he was sure that the pain would soon end. His mother would save him. His mother wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt her precious son. “Mom,” he said, a hopeful glance in his eyes as he found the energy to struggle again. He tried to fight the man off, even though it hurt, his hole clenching tightly around the length of the man. Yoochun ignored the moan of pleasure that escaped from Yunho’s mouth, disgust spreading like a sickening disease through his abused body.
But nothing could beat the disgust he felt when he saw the approving look of satisfaction on his mother’s face, sickening him to the core. The look of betrayal painted on his face was enough to make Yunho come, strings of white filling Yoochun’s body. The little boy gagged, losing himself in this turmoil of pain, betrayal, disgust and even more pain.
“You can take him with you now,” Yunho said, slipping out of the crying boy. The huge amount of money he handed over to his mother didn’t go unnoticed by Yoochun’s eyes.
~
He doesn’t remember how he got back in the car, how his mother even allowed him to sit in the car while he was being such a mess. Yoochun doesn’t remember how he got dressed again but he does remember crying, crying his heart out in the car. He does remember the sticky feeling; the sticky feeling of sweat on his back, the salty feeling of tears running nonstop down his face and the disgusting feeling of liquid trickling down his legs, mingling with the fabric of his pants.
And he remembers his mother’s voice. The gentle and soft voice.
“Don’t cry, Yoochun, I love you.”
It was the first time his mother had told him she loved him. It made him feel so disgusted, so repulsed and so used.
~
‘I love you’ soon becomes a meaningless phrase for Yoochun. His mother takes him more and more often to those strange friends of hers, sometimes leaving him and sometimes watching while those strangers do those things to him. She tells him it’s normal, she tells him he has to do it in order to prove how much he loves her.
“Do you love me?” she asks him once. They sit in the car, Yoochun trembling and sobbing, curled into a tight ball on the seat next to her. Her gaze is fixed on the road but her hand wanders off to touch his reassuringly. However, when her hand makes contact with his, Yoochun pulls his hand back as if burned.
It takes a long minute before Yoochun can pull himself together. His breathing is uneven, hitching with the tremors his crying sends down to his spine. “Of... of course,” he still sobs, his voice trembling. He wants to throw up, he wants to get rid of the disgusting feeling deep down his abdomen. His trembling hands curl protectively around himself, tightening their grip on the fabric sticking to his sweaty skin, hugging his own body.
“Other people do this as well,” the silent voice of his mother echoed through the cold space of the car. The heater had broken down in the middle of the winter and they had no money to repair it. It was deadly cold but at this moment, Yoochun couldn’t care less, their breathing forming little clouds in the air. He looked at his own breathing, mesmerized by the little signs of him still being alive while he felt so dead inside. “They do it to show how much they love their parents. You love me, right?”
Yoochun nodded faintly, not bothering to use his energy to open his mouth.
“I love you too,” a smile played on his mother’s lips. “Don’t talk with other people about this, okay? They will only laugh at you and make fun of your inexperience. This is something like... taking a dump. Everyone does it but nobody talks about it, do you understand?”
Again, Yoochun nodded.
“Okay... you know we need the money...” his mother repeated, her thoughts drifting off. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Yoochun said. It scared him how lifeless his own voice sounded.
~
His father had died when he was seven. Yoochun had been too young to understand what it meant but one day, his father had laughed with him, carried him on his shoulders and the next day, his mother was crying, crying endless tears. He had been too young to understand. His father had been involved in a bank robbery and he had been hit by two bullets, one in the chest and one right through his head. There had been no way he could have survived such an attack.
Yoochun remembered the funeral. Or to be more specific, he remembered being at the funeral, confused why so many people were crying and giving him condolences. He remembered thinking it was all a play and that his father would jump out of the coffin and scream ‘SURPRISE!’ which would result in his audience to laugh. None of this happened. When they went back home, his mother still crying and his father still nowhere to be found, Yoochun remembered the confusion. He remembered thinking that his father would be home, sitting on the bench and watching his favorite TV program, his feet resting on the table, laughing that he had fooled so many people.
But that didn’t happen. His father wasn’t at home to greet them when they came back from the funeral, he wasn’t there when Yoochun woke up the next day and he wasn’t there either the rest of the week. It took him nine days before he had managed to ask his pale mother where his father was. This resulted into more crying and Yoochun had awkwardly tried to wipe away the falling tears. He had patted his mother awkwardly on his back, not comprehending the situation.
He hadn’t dared to ask the same question again, afraid he would trigger the same reaction.
Instead, he came to learn that he would never see his father again. He was in a place far far away where he was living happily. Or in agony. Yoochun had heard his mother curse his father so many times. Back then, he hadn’t understood but as time went by, he realized his father had left them dirt poor. Everything in their old house had been confiscated and they had been forced to move to a smaller apartment.
His mother hadn’t been happy. She was forced to work from six in the morning till midnight, trying to pay the debt of her deceased husband. Yoochun couldn’t be a big help back then though he tried to lessen her burden by eating little and sewing eyes on the dolls that laid in their home when his mother wasn’t looking.
~
Maybe it was better this way. After a while, Yoochun learned to think of happy thoughts while his body was intruded and abused. He didn’t struggle anymore, knowing that this would only increase the pain. He learned tricks, he learned how to stroke a cock in a way that the man’s eyes would roll back in his head, moans of pleasure escaping from his open mouth. Yoochun learned how he should give blow jobs, taking the big thing in his mouth, sucking lightly on the length and stroking the remaining length that he couldn’t fit in his mouth.
He learned that it helped to moan, to whimper and to beg. Even though he didn’t like it, he knew his mother would receive more money if he did.
The results were clear. They could move to a bigger apartment, his mother looked younger and it seemed as if she had more energy. A slight smile played on Yoochun’s lips as he realized how much he, a small boy, could do for his mother. He had no idea how wrong his actions really were, thinking it was just a nuisance just like he thought taking a dump was a nuisance. But necessary.
Yoochun remembered how beautiful his mother looked. Every day she would wear something else, something that screamed that she was an elegant lady. Her make up looked beautiful and flawless, every day. “You look great, mommy,” he would smile, placing a small hand on his mother’s hair, patting it lightly.
He was relieved that they had a steady income. He remembered the days where his stomach would rumble and he could barely stand because of the pain in his abdomen. He remembered the stabbing cold in the winter and the stuffy warmth in the summer. Being intruded by all those strangers was an uncomfortable experience, one where he would find himself wishing for it to stop as soon as possible, and the next day would be even more painful. Thinking about those experiences made him try to swallow the tears away and think of happier times.
All his friends were going through the same, Yoochun thought. It was just like pooping.
~
When he was ten years and seven months old, his mother remarried. She married with a tall and handsome man, one who Yoochun estimated to be around the thirty years old though it turned out the man was forty-five. His name was Shim Dongmin. He had the biggest eyes Yoochun had ever seen, they were big and round eyes radiating friendliness. Immediately, a sense of security had intruded his body and left him smiling.
It was only when they moved into Dongmin’s house, his new father, that Yoochun realized there was the existence of someone else. He had pointed at one of the pictures on the table, asking “Who’s this?”.
“This,” Dongmin had said, “was my wife. She’s with your father now... And this is my son, Changmin. He’s a lot older than you but I don’t think that will become a problem. I’m sure you two will have a great time when he comes back from the army.”
Back then, Yoochun had only nodded. He remembered instantly liking Changmin even though he had never seen the guy. His stepbrother had the same friendly eyes of his father and it instantly made Yoochun feel safe. Besides, his own father had told him that all the good and brave men went to the army, risking their lives to serve their country. It was a noble deed and Yoochun had proudly exclaimed that he would definitely serve the army when he would be older. His father had only smiled approvingly back then.
The three of them lived together in the house of Yoochun’s stepfather, a person who he called ‘dad’ now. The house was big and beautiful, similar to the house of the first man that had touched him. At first, he had been scared. Afraid that he’d bump into the strong man called Yunho who would overpower him and take him when he was caught off guard. That was the first visible sign that his experiences had left marks deeper than Yoochun would have thought.
Once his mother had married, Yoochun’s visits to those men were no longer needed. His mother had told him he had proven his love for his parents and that she would not doubt his love for her. Yoochun had smiled brightly, glad he had conquered this obstacle. From now on, nobody would be able to doubt his unconditional love for his mother. He had proven himself.
It had been worth all the pain and humiliation. At least his mother knew that he loved her just like he knew she loved him.
~
Yoochun liked his stepfather. Dongmin was a nice man, one who was willing to play with him even though it demanded much of his precious time. He knew how to pretend his amazement, how to praise and how to tease his stepson. Yoochun wasn’t able to remember his own father clearly anymore but he liked to imagine his father to be like the gentle man that Dongmin was.
He didn’t know how badly he had been fooled by the man.
Yoochun doesn’t remember when it had all started but one day, he had played happily with Junsu in the playground behind his school. They had thrown sand balls at each other, screaming and laughing when they hit the other and throwing another one if they had missed. They had gone on the swing, played around on the climbing frame while both bragging about their fathers.
“My father is so strong! He would be able to lift you and me up at the same time!” Junsu exclaimed, looking excited as he made big gestures with his hands. Yoochun giggled, his father could do so much more than that.
“That’s nothing,” he waved the argument away, “my father would be able to carry us both AND the school AND the world AND and and...” It didn’t really make sense to Yoochun either but he just continued bluffing, bragging about his stepfather, “My daddy would be able to buy this school to, he’d even be able to buy you if he wanted to!”
“Nobody can buy me! My mommy says I’m priceless! My parents wouldn’t sell me for all the money in the world!” Junsu said, sticking his tongue out. “They love me thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much!” he said, spreading his arms to show how much his parents really loved him.
A bitter smile appeared on Yoochun’s face, his mood instantly taking a hit. Wow, so Junsu must have gone through a lot as well? He wondered how many men had touched his friend. “My mom tells me she loves me too. Every time, after it happens. And I’ve proven my love for her as well!” he tries to brag but he knows he’s failing badly. Misery is written on his face as he tries not to cry, thinking about his numbing experiences with those men.
“After what happens?” Junsu asks, curiosity written on his face. “Hey, don’t cry! It’s okay, maybe your parents love you more than my parents love me. Let’s keep it at a tie, okay? Yah, yah, don’t cry!”
He feels small hands patting him awkwardly on his back, trying to comfort him. Yoochun tries to stop the flowing tears but he can’t. He’s embarrassed and he doesn’t want to think about those times anymore but he can’t stop himself from asking, “How was your first time? Didn’t-didn’t you feel gross too? Didn’t it make you want to throw up too?”
He knows he isn’t supposed to talk about it. His mother had told him not to, saying others would laugh at his inexperience. However, Yoochun knew he was a pro, he had done it so many times that he had proven his love for his mother after all. He knew Junsu wouldn’t be able to laugh at him. The only reason that could explain the confused expression on the face of his friend would be... well, that he didn’t like talking about this just like people didn’t like talking about poo.
“It’s okay,” Yoochun says quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment, “if you don’t want to talk about it, then you shouldn’t. I won’t laugh at you, though.”
“What are you talking about?” Junsu had asked, his eyes wide with surprise. “The first time? I don’t understand you.”
And Yoochun couldn’t blame the boy for pretending not to understand. This wasn’t a subject he loved to talk about either. “Nevermind,” he says, forcing a smile on his face. He knows that the smile looks genuine even though it isn’t reaching his eyes. He had faked smiles many times before. “I was just being silly.”
He doesn’t feel like playing with Junsu anymore. “Let’s go home, okay?” he says and Junsu nods. Yoochun knows his friend feels awkward with the last turn in their conversation and he’s glad that they both can escape from the awkward atmosphere. His lifeless eyes follow the back of his cheerful friend who walks away, making his way to his home. Only when Junsu turns around the corner and is disappeared from his sight, does Yoochun make an effort to move his heavy limbs. It starts raining but he doesn’t bother to run or to walk faster. He doesn’t even bother to shield himself from the pouring rain.
The pain from the inside is shredding him apart. He knows he doesn’t have to do any of it anymore, that he has proven his love for his mother, but the shadows of those memories are still hunting him, tearing him apart from the inside. At one point, Yoochun decides he can’t take the pain anymore. He is huffing, his eyes tearing up and suddenly, he finds himself squatting on the sidewalk. He wraps his arms tightly around his knees and buries his head in his arms.
Yoochun doesn’t know how long he’s sitting there like this, just letting the rain fall on him but when the pain subsides, he comes out of his fetal position and continues to drag his numb body to wherever his legs lead him.
When he finally comes home with his clothes drenched and water dripping off his hair, Yoochun finds only Dongmin at home. The man rushes forward when he hears the door open and he's even more surprised to find his stepson soaked and crying. “What’s happened?” he asks, pushing the small kid towards the bathroom. “Why are you crying? Why didn’t you call me so I could pick you up? You shouldn’t run around with this kind of weather!”
Yoochun doesn’t answer, only following his father to the bathroom. “Just... leave me alone, okay? I don't need you to help me to take a shower,” Yoochun snaps and even though he knows his behavior is unfair towards his father, he can’t help himself.
After his father leaves obediently, Yoochun is glad to find himself alone. Once he has locked the door, he lets the water of the shower run but he doesn’t bother to get out of his soaked clothes. Instead, he finds himself lying on the ground, his back resting against the cool tiles of the wall. Tears are slipping from his eyes, overflowing and rolling down his cheeks. He finds himself thinking about Yunho, the first man who had taken him. He finds himself thinking about the excruciating pain and the sound of naked skin slapping against naked skin. He finds himself thinking about Kangin, the first man who had cocked Yoochun's head back and put his large dick mercilessly in his small mouth.
Yoochun remembers the fear. His eyes had brimmed with tears, fear intruding every corner of his body. He remembered trying not to gag around the heavy lump in his mouth, remembered to keep his raspy breathing steady while Kangin abused his mouth. Kangin had been enthusiast, had tried to fit his whole length into Yoochun's mouth while thrusting at a fast pace. Yoochun had gagged and he knew that he would’ve thrown up for sure, hadn’t it been that he hadn’t eaten anything for two days. His first meal in two days were the white strings that had shot out of Kangin's dick and that the brute man had forced the small child to swallow.
Yoochun doesn't remember the name of the man who had earned his first hand job but he does remember the eccentric laughter when Yoochun's small hands had stroked the cock and he does remember the beautiful dimple the man had in his left cheek. The man had come embarrassingly fast even though Yoochun hadn’t been experienced enough to realize this back then.
The first time he had been taken by more than one man was burned into his memories. It had been only after a few weeks since Yunho and it had been only just when Yoochun had thought he would have been able to shut his mind off, to let his body go limp and remain lifeless while those men were busy with his body.
Yoochun remembered that this had also been the first time his mother had watched. There had been one man, the most dominant one who was called Siwon. He had been the one who had spread Yoochun roughly and had put his large pulsing cock into the small hole. Yoochun remembered the ripping pain and it felt even worse than the first time he had been taken. He remembered how he had screamed, squirmed, trying to get away from the excruciating pain. Yoochun didn’t even have any time to get used to the big cock buried in his ass as Siwon had started to thrust at a fast pace. Yoochun remembers how he had felt a liquid trickling down his legs. He remembered that Siwon hadn’t come yet and it made him sob even more as he realized that the liquid running down his legs was his own blood.
Yoochun didn't have enough time to accustom to the rough circumstances, rougher than he was used to, because as Siwon was taking him, the other man in the room had pulled his zipper down. The man was beautiful and Yoochun could have sworn it was a girl, had he not stood naked for him with undoubtedly a penis in his slender hand.
Before Yoochun knew it, Heechul had taken advantage of his screams and he had pushed his penis into Yoochun's mouth. The little boy had started trashing, tried to get away from these needy people but all he could hear were the moans of pleasure of Siwon behind him.
“So... fucking tight,” Siwon had said, speeding up his pace even more.
All Yoochun could do was cry, sob as the rhythms of these two men were totally different from each other and it felt like he was being torn apart from both sides.
“Hana, don’t you enjoy this beautiful sight of your son?” Heechul had smiled before pulling his cock out of Yoochun's mouth. He started to stroke himself and just a few seconds later, he came all over Yoochun's face.
The sperm mixed with his salty tears and Yoochun felt so disgusted, so humiliated. His world seemed to fall and shatter into little pieces.
“Kiss him,” Heechul had ordered when Yoochun's mother hadn’t answered. “Kiss him like you mean it. That’d be hot.”
Yoochun had started to drift off to sleep, his body weak and abused. He had never felt this disgusted in his whole life. This feeling worsened even more when he felt a warm tongue intruding his mouth, playing with his own tongue before slipping out.
His mother tasted like roses.
The last memory makes Yoochun’s stomach squirm and before he knows it, he finds himself hanging above the toilet. The sound of his lunch splashing against the white surface makes his stomach turn around another time but the small boy tries to ignore it. Even though the memories had made him nauseous and disgusted, the uncomfortable feeling stays even after he has thrown up everything in his stomach and cleaned himself in the shower where he had fervently scrubbed his skin, trying to cleanse himself from all the misery.
-------------------
A/N: I know I should try to finish my other fics but this idea just came to me when I read an article about a woman who had been raped many times when she was young while her own mother was just watching her and allowing it. I've never tried to write such a twisted fic before and neither have I ever attempted to write sex scenes so lol forgive me if I failed miserably XD;;
Also, the pairing will be Yoomin (because I have such a soft spot for Yoomin <3) but this will only start in chapter 2. :') I had to put in a lot of background history in the first chapter. XD
Pairing: Changmin x Yoochun
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: When I close my eyes, they are mine.
Genre: AU, angst, drama, romance
Length: Chaptered
Warnings: Unbeta-ed, rape, incest, underage sex, twisted parentship.
Summary: ‘I love you’ soon becomes a meaningless phrase for Yoochun. His mother takes him more and more often to those strange friends of hers, sometimes leaving him and sometimes watching while those strangers do those things to him. She tells him it’s normal, she tells him he has to do it in order to prove how much he loves her. So Yoochun complies.
When his mother gets remarried, she tells her son he doesn't have to prove anything anymore. Yoochun thinks this is the end of the uncomfortable experiences but he's wrong. Things escalate even more when his stepbrother comes back from the army.
The first time Yoochun had been raped was when he was nine years old.
His mother had taken him to the amusement park. He had gone into the roller coaster, the ferris wheel, the merry-go-round and many other attractions. Yoochun remembered the elated feeling of utter freedom and he had thought he would never forget that day. He had been right; he would never forget that day but not because of the happy memories. The gleeful memories seemed too blurry now that he looked back and he wasn’t even able to remember the sound of his own carefree laughing.
“Aren’t you happy?” his mother had asked him, cupping his small face into her hands. As if the bright smile on his face hadn’t been sign enough already of his happiness, Yoochun had nodded enthusiastically. “Mommy still has to go to a friend. You promise mommy that you’re going to be a good boy and do what I tell you?”
“Of course, mommy!” Yoochun had promised, the bright smile stuck on his face.
They had gone to that friend. It was someone Yoochun had never heard of before and he remembered being proud of his mother’s broad social network. The friend lived in a big white house with a big and beautiful garden. The boy remembered he had smoothed his clothes and tried to comb his hair with his fingers, an earnest try to appear like a good son to the friend of his mother. He shouldn’t embarrass his mother when she had been so nice to him that day.
“Hana-sshi,” the man had spoken. Yoochun still remembered how the man looked. It was a tall man with a muscular and tan body. He had flashed a smile to Yoochun, showing his perfect white and straight teeth. The small boy had smiled shyly back, feeling awkward around someone he barely knew.
That soon changed. They were invited into the big and beautiful house. He remembered being so impressed because the house was so much bigger, cleaner and prettier than theirs. It had only motivated him more to try to impress the handsome man.
They had sat down in the living room and the butler of the man had brought them tea with biscuits. Yoochun had enjoyed it, listening to the conversation between his mother and the man. He didn’t understand what they were talking about but it was soothing to listen to the soft voice of his mother and the low voice of her friend. After a while, his eyelids started to droop and his head became heavy with sleep. He didn’t notice the glances his mother had exchanged with the man, the sleep overpowering his small body.
“Yoochun,” his mother had said, her soft voice cutting through the mists of heavy sleep in his head. “I left the present I’ve brought for Yunho ahjussi in the car. I’ll be right back, just stay here, okay?” She had smiled to him, her brown eyes radiating a calming gentleness towards him. Yoochun had only nodded, his eyes fluttering with sleep.
The door clicked behind him and he could hear the footsteps of his mother disappear. It had been a long day and the little Yoochun had used all his energy in the park, running and playing around. Thick sleep got to him, wrapped securely around him and he found himself slipping into another world.
He didn’t notice how Yunho had stood up, making his way closer to him. Only when he felt a warm and big hand cupping his cheeks did his eyes flutter open. Yoochun looked sleepily at the ahjussi, having a hard time to keep his nodding head straight. The man flashed another one of his beautiful smiles and Yoochun couldn’t do anything else but smile back at him.
And then, Yunho placed a soft kiss on his lips.
Yoochun’s eyes opened in shock and the drowsiness he had felt just a few seconds ago disappeared immediately. At first, he didn’t know what to think. His mother used to give him a quick peck on the lips but that was nothing compared to the intimate gesture with this unknown man. He didn’t know what to do.
Only when Yunho deepened the kiss, his warm tongue slipping into Yoochun’s mouth, his hand moving to Yoochun’s pants to palm the boy’s balls did Yoochun realize that this was definitely off. He screamed and struggled to keep the man away from him. His small hands pushed the broad and muscular chest before him, trying desperately to increase the space between them. Yunho didn’t even budge, his hands squeezing Yoochun’s small shoulders, and the soft kiss became rough.
Tears started to pool in his eyes as Yoochun did the only thing he could think of: he forced his teeth down with as much strength as he could muster and he heard the man scream out in pain. “Fuck, you little bitch, you dared to bite me?” Yunho cursed and before Yoochun could react, he felt a fist making contact with his jaw.
Yoochun cried, tears streaming down his face as he tried to get away from the tall man. His attempts failed miserably and before he knew it, Yunho was all over him again. His screams for his mother were muffled when Yunho’s mouth made contact with his lips again and his small fists made desperate attempts to fight the older man off but nothing seemed to help.
He was overpowered.
Yunho’s hands were all over his body. They ripped through his clothes and before Yoochun knew it, he was lying naked on the floor, his face pressed roughly on the carpet. The big hands were cupping and massaging his balls and it felt so so wrong. Desperate cries escaped from his mouth but this only resulted in a mouthful of carpet.
“Please don’t do this,” Yoochun cried, his tears mingling with the carpet. He couldn’t fight the man off, the weight of Yunho’s body pressing him down. The hands of the older man were everywhere, touching him in all the wrong places. Heavy pants escaped from his own mouth as he still tried to fight the older man off. He was still trying, even though he knew it was hopeless. “Mom! Mommy, help me!”
“You shouldn’t call out for your mother,” Yunho spoke, a smile on his face as he ruined the boy beneath him. The soft and smooth skin was so beautiful, so deliciously untouched. “You’re mine now.”
Yoochun could feel those disgusting hands on his ass, spreading him and then a ripping pain sent him spiraling down to incoherency.
He didn’t even think of fighting against Yunho anymore. All he could do was scream and cry as the pain only became worse. He begged, begged for mercy but all he could do was blurt out incoherent words. His frail and limp body moved at the same pace as Yunho’s muscular body and Yoochun didn’t even fight Yunho when he leaned down to press kisses on his soft lips. He didn’t even fight when the kisses became rougher, Yunho biting on his lips until they bled. He didn’t even fight when Yunho bit his skin, marking him everywhere.
The pain was excruciating, clouding all his senses till all he could do was sob. He could find no more energy in his limp body to fight the older man off. All he was hoping for was the pain to stop.
“Mommy... mommy... mom...” his breath hitched. Every breath was squeezed out of him as he could feel the man above him speeding up his pace. Screams and whimpers were escaping from his mouth but even Yoochun couldn’t make any sense of it. “Please... please... stop, it hurts.”
And then the door opened. The lean figure of his mother came in and a wave of relief flooded Yoochun’s body, expectancy flashing through his eyes. A laugh echoed through the room and it took the boy a minute to realize that the laugh was coming from Yunho. “Little naive boy...” he laughed as he started to ride faster and faster.
More whimpers escaped from Yoochun’s mouth but he was sure that the pain would soon end. His mother would save him. His mother wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt her precious son. “Mom,” he said, a hopeful glance in his eyes as he found the energy to struggle again. He tried to fight the man off, even though it hurt, his hole clenching tightly around the length of the man. Yoochun ignored the moan of pleasure that escaped from Yunho’s mouth, disgust spreading like a sickening disease through his abused body.
But nothing could beat the disgust he felt when he saw the approving look of satisfaction on his mother’s face, sickening him to the core. The look of betrayal painted on his face was enough to make Yunho come, strings of white filling Yoochun’s body. The little boy gagged, losing himself in this turmoil of pain, betrayal, disgust and even more pain.
“You can take him with you now,” Yunho said, slipping out of the crying boy. The huge amount of money he handed over to his mother didn’t go unnoticed by Yoochun’s eyes.
~
He doesn’t remember how he got back in the car, how his mother even allowed him to sit in the car while he was being such a mess. Yoochun doesn’t remember how he got dressed again but he does remember crying, crying his heart out in the car. He does remember the sticky feeling; the sticky feeling of sweat on his back, the salty feeling of tears running nonstop down his face and the disgusting feeling of liquid trickling down his legs, mingling with the fabric of his pants.
And he remembers his mother’s voice. The gentle and soft voice.
“Don’t cry, Yoochun, I love you.”
It was the first time his mother had told him she loved him. It made him feel so disgusted, so repulsed and so used.
~
‘I love you’ soon becomes a meaningless phrase for Yoochun. His mother takes him more and more often to those strange friends of hers, sometimes leaving him and sometimes watching while those strangers do those things to him. She tells him it’s normal, she tells him he has to do it in order to prove how much he loves her.
“Do you love me?” she asks him once. They sit in the car, Yoochun trembling and sobbing, curled into a tight ball on the seat next to her. Her gaze is fixed on the road but her hand wanders off to touch his reassuringly. However, when her hand makes contact with his, Yoochun pulls his hand back as if burned.
It takes a long minute before Yoochun can pull himself together. His breathing is uneven, hitching with the tremors his crying sends down to his spine. “Of... of course,” he still sobs, his voice trembling. He wants to throw up, he wants to get rid of the disgusting feeling deep down his abdomen. His trembling hands curl protectively around himself, tightening their grip on the fabric sticking to his sweaty skin, hugging his own body.
“Other people do this as well,” the silent voice of his mother echoed through the cold space of the car. The heater had broken down in the middle of the winter and they had no money to repair it. It was deadly cold but at this moment, Yoochun couldn’t care less, their breathing forming little clouds in the air. He looked at his own breathing, mesmerized by the little signs of him still being alive while he felt so dead inside. “They do it to show how much they love their parents. You love me, right?”
Yoochun nodded faintly, not bothering to use his energy to open his mouth.
“I love you too,” a smile played on his mother’s lips. “Don’t talk with other people about this, okay? They will only laugh at you and make fun of your inexperience. This is something like... taking a dump. Everyone does it but nobody talks about it, do you understand?”
Again, Yoochun nodded.
“Okay... you know we need the money...” his mother repeated, her thoughts drifting off. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Yoochun said. It scared him how lifeless his own voice sounded.
~
His father had died when he was seven. Yoochun had been too young to understand what it meant but one day, his father had laughed with him, carried him on his shoulders and the next day, his mother was crying, crying endless tears. He had been too young to understand. His father had been involved in a bank robbery and he had been hit by two bullets, one in the chest and one right through his head. There had been no way he could have survived such an attack.
Yoochun remembered the funeral. Or to be more specific, he remembered being at the funeral, confused why so many people were crying and giving him condolences. He remembered thinking it was all a play and that his father would jump out of the coffin and scream ‘SURPRISE!’ which would result in his audience to laugh. None of this happened. When they went back home, his mother still crying and his father still nowhere to be found, Yoochun remembered the confusion. He remembered thinking that his father would be home, sitting on the bench and watching his favorite TV program, his feet resting on the table, laughing that he had fooled so many people.
But that didn’t happen. His father wasn’t at home to greet them when they came back from the funeral, he wasn’t there when Yoochun woke up the next day and he wasn’t there either the rest of the week. It took him nine days before he had managed to ask his pale mother where his father was. This resulted into more crying and Yoochun had awkwardly tried to wipe away the falling tears. He had patted his mother awkwardly on his back, not comprehending the situation.
He hadn’t dared to ask the same question again, afraid he would trigger the same reaction.
Instead, he came to learn that he would never see his father again. He was in a place far far away where he was living happily. Or in agony. Yoochun had heard his mother curse his father so many times. Back then, he hadn’t understood but as time went by, he realized his father had left them dirt poor. Everything in their old house had been confiscated and they had been forced to move to a smaller apartment.
His mother hadn’t been happy. She was forced to work from six in the morning till midnight, trying to pay the debt of her deceased husband. Yoochun couldn’t be a big help back then though he tried to lessen her burden by eating little and sewing eyes on the dolls that laid in their home when his mother wasn’t looking.
~
Maybe it was better this way. After a while, Yoochun learned to think of happy thoughts while his body was intruded and abused. He didn’t struggle anymore, knowing that this would only increase the pain. He learned tricks, he learned how to stroke a cock in a way that the man’s eyes would roll back in his head, moans of pleasure escaping from his open mouth. Yoochun learned how he should give blow jobs, taking the big thing in his mouth, sucking lightly on the length and stroking the remaining length that he couldn’t fit in his mouth.
He learned that it helped to moan, to whimper and to beg. Even though he didn’t like it, he knew his mother would receive more money if he did.
The results were clear. They could move to a bigger apartment, his mother looked younger and it seemed as if she had more energy. A slight smile played on Yoochun’s lips as he realized how much he, a small boy, could do for his mother. He had no idea how wrong his actions really were, thinking it was just a nuisance just like he thought taking a dump was a nuisance. But necessary.
Yoochun remembered how beautiful his mother looked. Every day she would wear something else, something that screamed that she was an elegant lady. Her make up looked beautiful and flawless, every day. “You look great, mommy,” he would smile, placing a small hand on his mother’s hair, patting it lightly.
He was relieved that they had a steady income. He remembered the days where his stomach would rumble and he could barely stand because of the pain in his abdomen. He remembered the stabbing cold in the winter and the stuffy warmth in the summer. Being intruded by all those strangers was an uncomfortable experience, one where he would find himself wishing for it to stop as soon as possible, and the next day would be even more painful. Thinking about those experiences made him try to swallow the tears away and think of happier times.
All his friends were going through the same, Yoochun thought. It was just like pooping.
~
When he was ten years and seven months old, his mother remarried. She married with a tall and handsome man, one who Yoochun estimated to be around the thirty years old though it turned out the man was forty-five. His name was Shim Dongmin. He had the biggest eyes Yoochun had ever seen, they were big and round eyes radiating friendliness. Immediately, a sense of security had intruded his body and left him smiling.
It was only when they moved into Dongmin’s house, his new father, that Yoochun realized there was the existence of someone else. He had pointed at one of the pictures on the table, asking “Who’s this?”.
“This,” Dongmin had said, “was my wife. She’s with your father now... And this is my son, Changmin. He’s a lot older than you but I don’t think that will become a problem. I’m sure you two will have a great time when he comes back from the army.”
Back then, Yoochun had only nodded. He remembered instantly liking Changmin even though he had never seen the guy. His stepbrother had the same friendly eyes of his father and it instantly made Yoochun feel safe. Besides, his own father had told him that all the good and brave men went to the army, risking their lives to serve their country. It was a noble deed and Yoochun had proudly exclaimed that he would definitely serve the army when he would be older. His father had only smiled approvingly back then.
The three of them lived together in the house of Yoochun’s stepfather, a person who he called ‘dad’ now. The house was big and beautiful, similar to the house of the first man that had touched him. At first, he had been scared. Afraid that he’d bump into the strong man called Yunho who would overpower him and take him when he was caught off guard. That was the first visible sign that his experiences had left marks deeper than Yoochun would have thought.
Once his mother had married, Yoochun’s visits to those men were no longer needed. His mother had told him he had proven his love for his parents and that she would not doubt his love for her. Yoochun had smiled brightly, glad he had conquered this obstacle. From now on, nobody would be able to doubt his unconditional love for his mother. He had proven himself.
It had been worth all the pain and humiliation. At least his mother knew that he loved her just like he knew she loved him.
~
Yoochun liked his stepfather. Dongmin was a nice man, one who was willing to play with him even though it demanded much of his precious time. He knew how to pretend his amazement, how to praise and how to tease his stepson. Yoochun wasn’t able to remember his own father clearly anymore but he liked to imagine his father to be like the gentle man that Dongmin was.
He didn’t know how badly he had been fooled by the man.
Yoochun doesn’t remember when it had all started but one day, he had played happily with Junsu in the playground behind his school. They had thrown sand balls at each other, screaming and laughing when they hit the other and throwing another one if they had missed. They had gone on the swing, played around on the climbing frame while both bragging about their fathers.
“My father is so strong! He would be able to lift you and me up at the same time!” Junsu exclaimed, looking excited as he made big gestures with his hands. Yoochun giggled, his father could do so much more than that.
“That’s nothing,” he waved the argument away, “my father would be able to carry us both AND the school AND the world AND and and...” It didn’t really make sense to Yoochun either but he just continued bluffing, bragging about his stepfather, “My daddy would be able to buy this school to, he’d even be able to buy you if he wanted to!”
“Nobody can buy me! My mommy says I’m priceless! My parents wouldn’t sell me for all the money in the world!” Junsu said, sticking his tongue out. “They love me thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much!” he said, spreading his arms to show how much his parents really loved him.
A bitter smile appeared on Yoochun’s face, his mood instantly taking a hit. Wow, so Junsu must have gone through a lot as well? He wondered how many men had touched his friend. “My mom tells me she loves me too. Every time, after it happens. And I’ve proven my love for her as well!” he tries to brag but he knows he’s failing badly. Misery is written on his face as he tries not to cry, thinking about his numbing experiences with those men.
“After what happens?” Junsu asks, curiosity written on his face. “Hey, don’t cry! It’s okay, maybe your parents love you more than my parents love me. Let’s keep it at a tie, okay? Yah, yah, don’t cry!”
He feels small hands patting him awkwardly on his back, trying to comfort him. Yoochun tries to stop the flowing tears but he can’t. He’s embarrassed and he doesn’t want to think about those times anymore but he can’t stop himself from asking, “How was your first time? Didn’t-didn’t you feel gross too? Didn’t it make you want to throw up too?”
He knows he isn’t supposed to talk about it. His mother had told him not to, saying others would laugh at his inexperience. However, Yoochun knew he was a pro, he had done it so many times that he had proven his love for his mother after all. He knew Junsu wouldn’t be able to laugh at him. The only reason that could explain the confused expression on the face of his friend would be... well, that he didn’t like talking about this just like people didn’t like talking about poo.
“It’s okay,” Yoochun says quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment, “if you don’t want to talk about it, then you shouldn’t. I won’t laugh at you, though.”
“What are you talking about?” Junsu had asked, his eyes wide with surprise. “The first time? I don’t understand you.”
And Yoochun couldn’t blame the boy for pretending not to understand. This wasn’t a subject he loved to talk about either. “Nevermind,” he says, forcing a smile on his face. He knows that the smile looks genuine even though it isn’t reaching his eyes. He had faked smiles many times before. “I was just being silly.”
He doesn’t feel like playing with Junsu anymore. “Let’s go home, okay?” he says and Junsu nods. Yoochun knows his friend feels awkward with the last turn in their conversation and he’s glad that they both can escape from the awkward atmosphere. His lifeless eyes follow the back of his cheerful friend who walks away, making his way to his home. Only when Junsu turns around the corner and is disappeared from his sight, does Yoochun make an effort to move his heavy limbs. It starts raining but he doesn’t bother to run or to walk faster. He doesn’t even bother to shield himself from the pouring rain.
The pain from the inside is shredding him apart. He knows he doesn’t have to do any of it anymore, that he has proven his love for his mother, but the shadows of those memories are still hunting him, tearing him apart from the inside. At one point, Yoochun decides he can’t take the pain anymore. He is huffing, his eyes tearing up and suddenly, he finds himself squatting on the sidewalk. He wraps his arms tightly around his knees and buries his head in his arms.
Yoochun doesn’t know how long he’s sitting there like this, just letting the rain fall on him but when the pain subsides, he comes out of his fetal position and continues to drag his numb body to wherever his legs lead him.
When he finally comes home with his clothes drenched and water dripping off his hair, Yoochun finds only Dongmin at home. The man rushes forward when he hears the door open and he's even more surprised to find his stepson soaked and crying. “What’s happened?” he asks, pushing the small kid towards the bathroom. “Why are you crying? Why didn’t you call me so I could pick you up? You shouldn’t run around with this kind of weather!”
Yoochun doesn’t answer, only following his father to the bathroom. “Just... leave me alone, okay? I don't need you to help me to take a shower,” Yoochun snaps and even though he knows his behavior is unfair towards his father, he can’t help himself.
After his father leaves obediently, Yoochun is glad to find himself alone. Once he has locked the door, he lets the water of the shower run but he doesn’t bother to get out of his soaked clothes. Instead, he finds himself lying on the ground, his back resting against the cool tiles of the wall. Tears are slipping from his eyes, overflowing and rolling down his cheeks. He finds himself thinking about Yunho, the first man who had taken him. He finds himself thinking about the excruciating pain and the sound of naked skin slapping against naked skin. He finds himself thinking about Kangin, the first man who had cocked Yoochun's head back and put his large dick mercilessly in his small mouth.
Yoochun remembers the fear. His eyes had brimmed with tears, fear intruding every corner of his body. He remembered trying not to gag around the heavy lump in his mouth, remembered to keep his raspy breathing steady while Kangin abused his mouth. Kangin had been enthusiast, had tried to fit his whole length into Yoochun's mouth while thrusting at a fast pace. Yoochun had gagged and he knew that he would’ve thrown up for sure, hadn’t it been that he hadn’t eaten anything for two days. His first meal in two days were the white strings that had shot out of Kangin's dick and that the brute man had forced the small child to swallow.
Yoochun doesn't remember the name of the man who had earned his first hand job but he does remember the eccentric laughter when Yoochun's small hands had stroked the cock and he does remember the beautiful dimple the man had in his left cheek. The man had come embarrassingly fast even though Yoochun hadn’t been experienced enough to realize this back then.
The first time he had been taken by more than one man was burned into his memories. It had been only after a few weeks since Yunho and it had been only just when Yoochun had thought he would have been able to shut his mind off, to let his body go limp and remain lifeless while those men were busy with his body.
Yoochun remembered that this had also been the first time his mother had watched. There had been one man, the most dominant one who was called Siwon. He had been the one who had spread Yoochun roughly and had put his large pulsing cock into the small hole. Yoochun remembered the ripping pain and it felt even worse than the first time he had been taken. He remembered how he had screamed, squirmed, trying to get away from the excruciating pain. Yoochun didn’t even have any time to get used to the big cock buried in his ass as Siwon had started to thrust at a fast pace. Yoochun remembers how he had felt a liquid trickling down his legs. He remembered that Siwon hadn’t come yet and it made him sob even more as he realized that the liquid running down his legs was his own blood.
Yoochun didn't have enough time to accustom to the rough circumstances, rougher than he was used to, because as Siwon was taking him, the other man in the room had pulled his zipper down. The man was beautiful and Yoochun could have sworn it was a girl, had he not stood naked for him with undoubtedly a penis in his slender hand.
Before Yoochun knew it, Heechul had taken advantage of his screams and he had pushed his penis into Yoochun's mouth. The little boy had started trashing, tried to get away from these needy people but all he could hear were the moans of pleasure of Siwon behind him.
“So... fucking tight,” Siwon had said, speeding up his pace even more.
All Yoochun could do was cry, sob as the rhythms of these two men were totally different from each other and it felt like he was being torn apart from both sides.
“Hana, don’t you enjoy this beautiful sight of your son?” Heechul had smiled before pulling his cock out of Yoochun's mouth. He started to stroke himself and just a few seconds later, he came all over Yoochun's face.
The sperm mixed with his salty tears and Yoochun felt so disgusted, so humiliated. His world seemed to fall and shatter into little pieces.
“Kiss him,” Heechul had ordered when Yoochun's mother hadn’t answered. “Kiss him like you mean it. That’d be hot.”
Yoochun had started to drift off to sleep, his body weak and abused. He had never felt this disgusted in his whole life. This feeling worsened even more when he felt a warm tongue intruding his mouth, playing with his own tongue before slipping out.
His mother tasted like roses.
The last memory makes Yoochun’s stomach squirm and before he knows it, he finds himself hanging above the toilet. The sound of his lunch splashing against the white surface makes his stomach turn around another time but the small boy tries to ignore it. Even though the memories had made him nauseous and disgusted, the uncomfortable feeling stays even after he has thrown up everything in his stomach and cleaned himself in the shower where he had fervently scrubbed his skin, trying to cleanse himself from all the misery.
-------------------
A/N: I know I should try to finish my other fics but this idea just came to me when I read an article about a woman who had been raped many times when she was young while her own mother was just watching her and allowing it. I've never tried to write such a twisted fic before and neither have I ever attempted to write sex scenes so lol forgive me if I failed miserably XD;;
Also, the pairing will be Yoomin (because I have such a soft spot for Yoomin <3) but this will only start in chapter 2. :') I had to put in a lot of background history in the first chapter. XD