Under My Skin (100 SuJu Challenge)
Theme #95: Drowning
Title: Under My Skin
Pairing: (Writer's Choice) Yesung/Ryeowook
Author: thundersquall
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 3,948
Summary: AU. Popular singer Kim Ryeowook is kidnapped by an obsessed fan and develops a twisted relationship with him over time.
WARNINGS: Implied rape, dubious consent. Dark!fic.
A/N: Based on a psychological response known as the Stockholm Syndrome, where an abducted person begins to show signs of loyalty to his captors, to the point of defending them, helping them, and possibly entering into emotional or sexual relationships with them. To quote Wikipedia, "The Stockholm Syndrome is a psychological shift that occurs to captives when they are threatened gravely but shown acts of kindness by their captors.”
___
Ryeowook thinks it's been a month since he met Yesung at the club, on the one night he decided to go out without his manager or staff or usual hangers-on. One month since he accepted Yesung's offer of a couple of drinks and then woke up bound to this bed, in the dingy basement of Yesung's house. One month of nothing but a haze of sleeping and waking only to be fed, too drugged up to protest or struggle too much, one month of crying and weak pleas and hopes of being rescued that diminish with every day.
He's not exactly very certain of the amount of time that's passed, partly because of the sleeping pills Yesung feeds him, but also because there's no light in this basement at all, nothing to tell Ryeowook if it's night or day. The only source of illumination is a single dingy lightbulb that Yesung switches on when he enters and off again when he leaves.
When the light's on, Ryeowook can see the walls, plastered with photos and posters of him. Singing on stage; stills of the variety shows he's been on; greeting fans at fanmeetings; performing at his concerts. Most of the photographs seem to have been taken by Yesung himself. They form a nightmarish collage that makes Ryeowook's heart twist in pain whenever he sees it, because he wants to be out of here, he wants his old life back and he wants to put this out of his mind forever and pretend it was just a bad dream.
Sometimes, during the few moments he’s awake, he sees Yesung sitting next to him, just staring at him. Sometimes he smiles and strokes Ryeowook’s hair or cheek. Sometimes he talks to Ryeowook, but Ryeowook doesn’t really know what he’s saying through the fog in his mind.
The only time Ryeowook's fully out of his drug-induced stupor is when the light is off, because that's when Yesung comes into his bed.
Most of the time, he's too drugged up on the sleeping pills his captor feeds him to notice much of anything around him, but when Yesung is on top of him and pinning him down with his body weight, his hand pressed tightly on Ryeowook's mouth to prevent him from making any noise, pounding him repeatedly into the headboard of the bed while he twists and pulls at the restraints on his raw, chafed wrists - these are the times when he awakens fully, and then he wishes he hasn't.
______________________________________________________________________
Ryeowook thinks it’s been three months since he was kidnapped. Ever since Yesung stopped pumping him full of sleeping pills, he’s been keeping count. He used to keep count by the number of times Yesung comes to his bed, because he used to think Yesung comes once a night, every night, but then Yesung begins staying in the basement for longer and longer hours each time, until he’s practically living down there with Ryeowook. He’ll curl up on the bed next to Ryeowook, talking to him, and getting up only to bring food down or to carry Ryeowook into the bathroom. Ryeowook isn’t certain of the time anymore after that.
Surprisingly, Yesung never hurts him. In fact, he’s almost eerily gentle to Ryeowook, except for the nights (or what Ryeowook thinks of as nights, only because Yesung switches the light off then). Yesung talks to him a lot, chattering volubly about numerous things that Ryeowook doesn’t give a fucking damn about, but now that he’s lucid and no longer anaesthetized, he’s able to try to reason with him.
“Please, Yesung, let me go,” he pleads.
Yesung’s eyes are dark and unreadable as he spoons stew carefully into Ryeowook’s mouth. “No.”
“Why not? Please, Yesung, just let me go, I promise, I won’t say anything to anyone, you won’t be caught, just - “
“I love you too much to let you go, Ryeowook.” He finishes feeding him and tenderly wipes the sauce at the corner of Ryeowook’s lips.
“Yesung, please, do this for me, I can go back to singing, I’ll sing for you - “
“No,” Yesung says again. “You’re mine, and I won’t share you with anyone else.”
Ryeowook looks up into Yesung’s calm face and decides that this man is completely and utterly insane, despite all his outward normalcy. He tries again, desperate. “Yesung, let me go, I’m begging you.”
“No I can’t, Ryeowook, I’ll lose you, and I love you too much to lose you.” He bends over to kiss Ryeowook, and Ryeowook squeezes his eyes shut, keeping his mouth determinedly closed as Yesung traces the tip of his tongue over his lips.
“I love you and I’ll never let you leave me,” Yesung whispers against his taut mouth as his hand scrabbles for the light switch next to the bed and snaps it off, plunging them both into darkness, and Ryeowook tenses up, his fingers curling in a death grip around the ropes that tie his wrists to the bed.
"Please, Yesung, don't do this," Ryeowook whispers, but all he hears is the breathing - slow, heavy, deliberate - so even and unhurried, even as Ryeowook feels the hands on his skin, hands that are rough and yet controlled and gentle at the same time.
"Don't, don't," he chokes out, and this time he feels a tear spill out from behind his closed eyelids. He can't bear to look, he never can, each time Yesung does this. He knows too, that he can't stop him. He can plead, he can beg, he can cry, but Yesung won't ever stop.
Even so, he can't help but whisper again, "Yesung, I'm begging you... don't do this again, please..."
Yesung doesn't answer. He never does. He just puts a hand over Ryeowook's mouth, preventing him from talking further, before he does what he does. Ryeowook hardens against his will, his body responding naturally to the physical stimulation even though he feels no desire to climax, his tears pouring out relentlessly over Yesung's fingers.
When Yesung finishes, he falls asleep next to Ryeowook, having said nothing at all, and Ryeowook cries himself to sleep, his small shoulders shaking as he muffles his sobs in the pillow.
The next day, Yesung acts like nothing's happened, like he always does.
"More toast, Ryeowookie?" he says cheerfully, feeding Ryeowook a bite at a time and watching as he chews slowly. "Eat more, eat more, you're getting too thin."
Ryeowook looks up at Yesung, looks right into his eyes, and he feels a chill go down his spine at the dark, longing look in them.
_____________________________________________________________________
Ryeowook thinks it’s been five months since he was kidnapped. Things are better, if you could call them that - Yesung’s stopped tying him to the bed, and he’s allowed to walk around in the basement now. He figures the time out because Yesung brought him here in May, and at that time the cramped basement was warm and comfortable. Now, however, it’s chilly, and Ryeowook shivers under his blankets even after Yesung brings a portable heater down for him.
It’s probably inevitable that he catches a cold, in the damp basement, and it’s almost like being back to the first nightmarish month of his imprisonment as his fever rises ever higher and Yesung inundates him with medication that makes him drowsy even as his entire body aches and shakes and his head is constantly dizzy.
“Yesung…” he whispers hoarsely to him one night, when his fever climbs so high he almost can’t see through the pain.
“I’m here, Ryeowook,” Yesung says, his voice low and soothing and oddly reassuring. Ryeowook doesn’t know what makes him do it - later, when he’s able to think on it, he rationalizes it as him simply needing warmth and comfort from someone, anyone, just something to relieve the pain - but he reaches out blindly for Yesung and feels Yesung’s hands grip his tightly.
“It hurts,” he says with difficulty. “It hurts…”
He feels Yesung slide one arm under his back and the other arm under his knees, before he lifts Ryeowook gently off the bed. Ryeowook’s too weak to resist; he simply lolls limply in Yesung’s arms as he carries him into the little bathroom, sets him down against the wall, and removes his clothes carefully.
“No,” Ryeowook says, his little body shaking from both the fever and chills. “No, don’t…” He remembers the early days when he was still kept bound, and Yesung would carry him to the bathroom and bathe him rather than release him from his bonds, and sometimes he’d have Ryeowook in there. He wants to cry, or he would if he isn’t so ill. How can Yesung be cruel enough to still want to touch him even when he’s in this condition?
But to his surprise, Yesung doesn’t do what he thinks he’s about to do. Instead, he sponges Ryeowook slowly and gently, passing a damp cloth down his body, and Ryeowook feels the discomfort ease slightly as Yesung rubs cool water all over him.
He falls asleep just as Yesung finishes dressing him up in warm clothes again. He doesn’t remember Yesung carrying him back to the bed, but his fever breaks that night and when he wakes up the next day, Yesung’s curled up beside him again, arms around him and holding him tightly to his own warm body.
It’s irrational, but Ryeowook can’t help but feel a surge of gratitude towards Yesung for taking care of him.
____________________________________________________________________
Ryeowook thinks it’s been six months since he was kidnapped. He’s gone back to counting the days by the number of times Yesung has sex with him, even though he’s not very sure because there are long periods when Yesung doesn’t touch him at all, and other times when Yesung literally lives in his bed, taking him over and over again until he finally has his fill and falls into an exhausted sleep next to Ryeowook. He’s silent, always silent, even when Ryeowook cries or pleads. Ryeowook doesn’t do that so often anymore; he’s realized by now that it’s no use.
On one of these nights, Yesung's in Ryeowook's bed again, his hand clamped over Ryeowook's mouth as Ryeowook’s body moves helplessly with the force of Yesung's thrusts, Yesung's face tucked against his neck and his breaths hot and rapid and silent.
Ryeowook keeps his eyes closed - Yesung's nearing his climax soon, he knows after all these nights when Yesung's about to finish - when Yesung suddenly speaks, for the first time throughout all these terrifying nights, "Ryeowook..."
The sound of his name being spoken so unexpectedly in that sex-roughened voice makes Ryeowook's eyes snap open. He tries to look towards Yesung, but Yesung's pinning him down too tightly, and he isn't sure if he ought to be terrified or comforted that he’s finally speaking.
And then Yesung speaks again, once more. "Ryeowook, I love you, so fucking much." It comes out almost as a sigh, his voice husky and hoarse.
Ryeowook comes for the first time ever. He would have screamed, but Yesung's hand is still on his face, and Yesung follows right after.
Yesung doesn't say anything as he climbs off Ryeowook. Nothing to indicate that Ryeowook's semen is all over him, no satisfaction or triumph or displeasure whatsoever. He flops down next to Ryeowook and falls asleep, and Ryeowook is left shaking and crying silently as he tries to beat down the guilt.
Because he isn't supposed to enjoy it, is he?
_____________________________________________________________________
Ryeowook thinks it’s been seven months since he was kidnapped. He’s pretty sure about this, because one time, over a game of chess (they’d both gotten into the habit of playing chess together; Yesung taught him how to, and Ryeowook actually quite likes it), Yesung casually mentioned something about Christmas coming.
It makes his heart freeze over to think that more than half a year has passed, and they’re already almost into the new year, but he’s still down in this basement and why isn’t anyone looking for him and getting him out of here?
Then one night Yesung comes into the basement with a big grin and carrying something in a large wrapped box, and Ryeowook sits up on the bed and squints at it.
“What’s that?” he asks, and Yesung’s grin grows wider.
“Your Christmas present,” he says. “Open it.”
Ryeowook looks up at him. “Is it already Christmas?” he asks quietly, and Yesung’s smile slips a little but he nods nevertheless.
“You won’t ever let me go, will you, Yesung?” he says softly, and Yesung stares at him for a long moment before he speaks, changing the subject completely.
“Go on, open your present.”
Ryeowook does as Yesung says; it’s not like he has any other option. He pulls at the wrappings, tears at the pretty patterned paper, feeling his heart lighten somehow as the layers come away under his hands. Time seems to pass so slowly down here, and so much has happened, that he’s almost forgetten the simple joy of unwrapping a gift.
Before he knows it he’s smiling as he rips the paper away and opens up the box. Oddly enough, of all things, it’s just a small stereo set inside, but the sight of it makes Ryeowook’s heart leap. He’s spent six months down here without any music, and now that he has the means to listen to songs again, it makes him happier than he’d thought possible.
His eyes are blurry with tears when Yesung takes the box gently from him and hooks the set up to a socket in the wall which is still plastered with pictures of Ryeowook. There are more photos up there now, all taken by Yesung with his Polaroid camera; photos of him laughing, sleeping, eating, some even taken with Yesung. It doesn’t creep him out as much as it used to anymore. Yesung slips a CD in and Ryeowook’s eyes widen as the first familiar strains of one of his own early songs comes out, and then his voice bursts out of the speakers, the melody sweet and soothing and his own voice high and clear.
Yesung turns around and begins walking slowly towards him. “I love this song of yours, do you know? I fell in love with you after I heard it and heard your voice.”
Ryeowook can’t speak as he listens to his voice swell and fill the small space between himself and Yesung as he comes ever closer. When he reaches Ryeowook he reaches out, and Ryeowook catches a glimpse of something silver glinting in his fingers before he clasps it around his neck, his fingertips stroking the soft skin and making Ryeowook shiver.
It’s a necklace with a pendant in the shape of a music note, and Ryeowook’s eyes follow Yesung’s fingers as they trail along the chain and entangle themselves in it, pulling Ryeowook closer. Ryeowook clenches his fists because he knows what’s coming, and sure enough Yesung begins pushing him towards the bed, his free hand tearing at his clothes even as he never relinquishes his hold on the necklace, twisting it in his fingers and holding the smaller man close to him by it as his lips ravish Ryeowook’s.
It’s only later, when Yesung’s slamming roughly into him, that he puts his mouth close to Ryeowook’s ear and pants an answer to his question from earlier: “No, I won’t ever let you go.”
Ryeowook climaxes at that, as the sound of his own voice and the notes of his song blast out of the speakers and resonate around the walls, as Yesung tugs at him by the necklace and chafes the skin of his neck raw, as the feel and smell and taste of Yesung wraps completely around him, drowning him in it.
“I love you, Ryeowook,” Yesung rasps out, and the words rise unbidden in Ryeowook’s mind as Yesung collapses on top of him, both of them breathless and clinging to each other. I love you too.
_______________________________________________________________________
Ryeowook thinks it’s been eight months since he was kidnapped. Except that right now he really isn’t keeping count anymore, and he really can’t be bothered, not when he hasn’t seen Yesung in… three days? Four? Five? It drives him insane, the fact that he doesn’t have a clock, doesn’t have a window, nothing whatsoever to tell him how much time has passed.
But he knows this isn’t natural, something isn’t right, Yesung barely leaves his side, and now he’s disappeared for - for a much longer time than usual. He’d told Ryeowook he was leaving for a couple of hours to stock up on groceries and do some work, which is normal, because Yesung’s told him before that he’s a website designer who works from home and he has to stay upstairs when he has projects to complete. But what’s not normal is him not coming back down for days. He always spends every night with Ryeowook, even when he has work, and Ryeowook’s really panicking, almost hysterical, as he pounds on the door to the basement and cries for Yesung.
He isn’t afraid of starving, he has food here and he really doesn’t care if he were to die because being alone in here is even worse than just being alone, but he needs Yesung with him, he needs to feel that familiar body next to his every night, he needs to know that Yesung will be coming back to him and -
The door swings open as he prepares to hammer his already bloodied fists on it again and Yesung steps in, his face pale and worried.
“Oh my god, Ryeowook,” he says as Ryeowook stares at him with wild scared eyes, and then the wild look goes out of them and he falls into Yesung’s arms, relieved tears flowing uncontrollably.
“What happened to you?” he asks a little later, as he lies on the bed and Yesung cleans his bruised and bloody hands, pressing tender kisses to the torn knuckles.
“I’m so sorry,” Yesung says quietly. “I was in an accident - a small one,” he adds hastily as Ryeowook’s eyes fly open in shock. “I wasn’t careful when I drove to the supermarket. Someone crashed into me, and I had a concussion, and they insisted on keeping me in the hospital for two days. I’m so, so sorry, Ryeowook, I swear to you, I tried to come back to you as fast as I could.”
“I was so scared, Yesung, I thought - “ Ryeowook breaks off in a sob, his small hands fisting into the front of Yesung’s shirt, clinging on for all he’s worth.
“You thought I’d leave you?”
Ryeowook only nods, sniffling.
“I won’t,” Yesung says firmly. “I won’t ever leave you, and I’ll never let you leave me, either.”
Ryeowook doesn’t know if he means it. Two days without Yesung and he’s turned into a gibbering, mindless wreck, and all he knows is that he doesn’t want that to happen again, never wants to experience the panic and the terror, never wants Yesung to leave him alone, ever. And that’s why he begins unbuttoning Yesung’s shirt with hands that are uncertain and shaky and yet frenzied; that’s why he tilts his head up to kiss Yesung roughly and hungrily enough to bruise; that’s why he pleads against Yesung’s mouth, “I want you to fuck me now, Yesung.”
He feels Yesung tense up in shock and surprise at his forwardness and make to pull away from him, but he brings his legs up and wraps them around Yesung’s waist, his arms clasping Yesung’s neck and keeping them glued together.
“Just fuck me, please,” he begs again, and this time Yesung growls deep in his throat, pushing Ryeowook away from him and practically flinging him onto his hands and knees as he works his fingers roughly inside Ryeowook, his lips and tongue running down Ryeowook's spine, and Ryeowook whimpers at Yesung's every touch, burning fiery trails across his skin.
______________________________________________________________________
Ryeowook thinks it’s been ten months since he was kidnapped. Ten months of being held here, of seeing no sunlight, of being with no one except Yesung. He’s now into a brand new year, and he still isn’t rescued.
Not that he really wants to be, to be honest, not when he’s comfortable and secure and Yesung’s already started filling up a second wall with Polaroids of the both of them. Not when the thought of going back to his old life, singing on stage again to thousands of nameless faces, surrounded by the pressures of fame, makes him frankly ill. Not when the idea of being without Yesung’s constant presence by his side terrifies him into tears. Not when Yesung gives him everything he needs.
He realizes this one night when Yesung suddenly hooks his arms around Ryeowook’s elbows from behind and pulls him upright until he’s on his knees, arms twisted behind him and held there firmly by Yesung. Ryeowook gasps when Yesung pushes into him from this position, and it just feels so good, so unbelievably amazing, that he can’t help but moan and plead for more.
"My god, you like this," Yesung says huskily. "You actually like this."
"I do, I do," Ryeowook sobs, arching into Yesung as the other man hooks his arms more tightly around Ryeowook's, bringing one leg around Ryeowook's thigh and pulling at it to spread his legs further apart. "I like it, just don't stop, oh Yesung, please don't stop..."
"You're a slut, Ryeowook, a slut, that's all you are," Yesung pants as he pulls Ryeowook back even further until he's lifted completely off his knees and leaning back entirely on Yesung. Ryeowook cries out when Yesung begins pounding into him like this, feeling so helpless because he’s unable to move, unable to do anything but feel that delicious friction inside him.
Yesung hoists him up higher so only his toes brush the bed and his head falls back on Yesung's shoulder. Through the haze of pleasure clouding his eyes, Ryeowook sees Yesung bend close to his ear and whisper, in a voice roughened with the effort of punctuating each word with a firm thrust, "But - you’re - my - slut, Ryeowook."
Ryeowook screams Yesung's name over and over as he comes.
It’s true; Yesung gives him everything he needs and more. Why would he ever want to leave?
____________________________________________________________________
It’s May again, and almost a year to the day of Ryeowook’s imprisonment, when Yesung lets him out of the house for the first time.
Ryeowook’s been out of the basement for a month by then. He lives upstairs with Yesung now, leading a quiet, undisturbed life. They cook, and chat, and sometimes read or play games, and make love. It’s domestic and peaceful and Ryeowook’s never felt freer or happier.
He never questions why Yesung took him in the first place. He knows Yesung did it because he loves him, and it makes his heart swell with joy to think that he has someone who loves him so much that he’s willing to do anything to keep him by his side forever.
Ryeowook’s nervous when they venture out of the house together, even though Yesung seems strangely calm. He stares, wide-eyed, out of the car as Yesung drives to the supermarket, watching the people and the vehicles and the tall buildings, and he feels fear bubbling in his stomach and making him nauseated when they reach their destination and Ryeowook’s confronted with the necessity of mingling in a crowd for the first time in a year.
He feels Yesung’s hand clasp his tightly and he squeezes back, reassured by Yesung at his side.
It’s when they’re at the checkout counter that the cashier, a young woman in her twenties, looks up at Ryeowook and gasps.
“Oh my god,” she says, her eyes huge as they scan Ryeowook’s face. “Oh my god, are you Kim Ryeowook?”
Ryeowook feels Yesung stiffen next to him and he knows; this is the moment of truth.
He barely lets a second pass before he says, casually and without hesitation, “That singer who went missing last year? No way, I can’t even sing to save my life.” He laughs a little for good measure.
The girl visibly relaxes and so does Yesung, even though he’s gripping Ryeowook’s hand so tightly it’s almost numb. “Oh goodness, I thought you were him, you do resemble him.”
Ryeowook shrugs, hefting several bags; Yesung hurries over to take them from him instead. “Lots of people have told me that, yeah.”
The cashier laughs. “I’m sorry about that. Have a nice day, both of you.”
“Thanks, and no worries about that,” Ryeowook says, smiling as he walks out of the supermarket, Yesung following silently behind him.
In the car, on the way home, Yesung says quietly, “Ryeowook, you had your chance.”
Ryeowook turns and sees that Yesung’s gripping the steering wheel so tightly his fingers are white and bloodless. He reaches out and rubs his fingers over the knuckles gently, before leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to Yesung’s cheek.
“I love you and I’ll never leave you,” he says, and he feels Yesung’s cheek rise in a smile. It makes Ryeowook warm and happy. Of course he’d never leave Yesung, not when he belongs wholly to Yesung, body and soul.
Title: Under My Skin
Pairing: (Writer's Choice) Yesung/Ryeowook
Author: thundersquall
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 3,948
Summary: AU. Popular singer Kim Ryeowook is kidnapped by an obsessed fan and develops a twisted relationship with him over time.
WARNINGS: Implied rape, dubious consent. Dark!fic.
A/N: Based on a psychological response known as the Stockholm Syndrome, where an abducted person begins to show signs of loyalty to his captors, to the point of defending them, helping them, and possibly entering into emotional or sexual relationships with them. To quote Wikipedia, "The Stockholm Syndrome is a psychological shift that occurs to captives when they are threatened gravely but shown acts of kindness by their captors.”
___
Ryeowook thinks it's been a month since he met Yesung at the club, on the one night he decided to go out without his manager or staff or usual hangers-on. One month since he accepted Yesung's offer of a couple of drinks and then woke up bound to this bed, in the dingy basement of Yesung's house. One month of nothing but a haze of sleeping and waking only to be fed, too drugged up to protest or struggle too much, one month of crying and weak pleas and hopes of being rescued that diminish with every day.
He's not exactly very certain of the amount of time that's passed, partly because of the sleeping pills Yesung feeds him, but also because there's no light in this basement at all, nothing to tell Ryeowook if it's night or day. The only source of illumination is a single dingy lightbulb that Yesung switches on when he enters and off again when he leaves.
When the light's on, Ryeowook can see the walls, plastered with photos and posters of him. Singing on stage; stills of the variety shows he's been on; greeting fans at fanmeetings; performing at his concerts. Most of the photographs seem to have been taken by Yesung himself. They form a nightmarish collage that makes Ryeowook's heart twist in pain whenever he sees it, because he wants to be out of here, he wants his old life back and he wants to put this out of his mind forever and pretend it was just a bad dream.
Sometimes, during the few moments he’s awake, he sees Yesung sitting next to him, just staring at him. Sometimes he smiles and strokes Ryeowook’s hair or cheek. Sometimes he talks to Ryeowook, but Ryeowook doesn’t really know what he’s saying through the fog in his mind.
The only time Ryeowook's fully out of his drug-induced stupor is when the light is off, because that's when Yesung comes into his bed.
Most of the time, he's too drugged up on the sleeping pills his captor feeds him to notice much of anything around him, but when Yesung is on top of him and pinning him down with his body weight, his hand pressed tightly on Ryeowook's mouth to prevent him from making any noise, pounding him repeatedly into the headboard of the bed while he twists and pulls at the restraints on his raw, chafed wrists - these are the times when he awakens fully, and then he wishes he hasn't.
______________________________________________________________________
Ryeowook thinks it’s been three months since he was kidnapped. Ever since Yesung stopped pumping him full of sleeping pills, he’s been keeping count. He used to keep count by the number of times Yesung comes to his bed, because he used to think Yesung comes once a night, every night, but then Yesung begins staying in the basement for longer and longer hours each time, until he’s practically living down there with Ryeowook. He’ll curl up on the bed next to Ryeowook, talking to him, and getting up only to bring food down or to carry Ryeowook into the bathroom. Ryeowook isn’t certain of the time anymore after that.
Surprisingly, Yesung never hurts him. In fact, he’s almost eerily gentle to Ryeowook, except for the nights (or what Ryeowook thinks of as nights, only because Yesung switches the light off then). Yesung talks to him a lot, chattering volubly about numerous things that Ryeowook doesn’t give a fucking damn about, but now that he’s lucid and no longer anaesthetized, he’s able to try to reason with him.
“Please, Yesung, let me go,” he pleads.
Yesung’s eyes are dark and unreadable as he spoons stew carefully into Ryeowook’s mouth. “No.”
“Why not? Please, Yesung, just let me go, I promise, I won’t say anything to anyone, you won’t be caught, just - “
“I love you too much to let you go, Ryeowook.” He finishes feeding him and tenderly wipes the sauce at the corner of Ryeowook’s lips.
“Yesung, please, do this for me, I can go back to singing, I’ll sing for you - “
“No,” Yesung says again. “You’re mine, and I won’t share you with anyone else.”
Ryeowook looks up into Yesung’s calm face and decides that this man is completely and utterly insane, despite all his outward normalcy. He tries again, desperate. “Yesung, let me go, I’m begging you.”
“No I can’t, Ryeowook, I’ll lose you, and I love you too much to lose you.” He bends over to kiss Ryeowook, and Ryeowook squeezes his eyes shut, keeping his mouth determinedly closed as Yesung traces the tip of his tongue over his lips.
“I love you and I’ll never let you leave me,” Yesung whispers against his taut mouth as his hand scrabbles for the light switch next to the bed and snaps it off, plunging them both into darkness, and Ryeowook tenses up, his fingers curling in a death grip around the ropes that tie his wrists to the bed.
"Please, Yesung, don't do this," Ryeowook whispers, but all he hears is the breathing - slow, heavy, deliberate - so even and unhurried, even as Ryeowook feels the hands on his skin, hands that are rough and yet controlled and gentle at the same time.
"Don't, don't," he chokes out, and this time he feels a tear spill out from behind his closed eyelids. He can't bear to look, he never can, each time Yesung does this. He knows too, that he can't stop him. He can plead, he can beg, he can cry, but Yesung won't ever stop.
Even so, he can't help but whisper again, "Yesung, I'm begging you... don't do this again, please..."
Yesung doesn't answer. He never does. He just puts a hand over Ryeowook's mouth, preventing him from talking further, before he does what he does. Ryeowook hardens against his will, his body responding naturally to the physical stimulation even though he feels no desire to climax, his tears pouring out relentlessly over Yesung's fingers.
When Yesung finishes, he falls asleep next to Ryeowook, having said nothing at all, and Ryeowook cries himself to sleep, his small shoulders shaking as he muffles his sobs in the pillow.
The next day, Yesung acts like nothing's happened, like he always does.
"More toast, Ryeowookie?" he says cheerfully, feeding Ryeowook a bite at a time and watching as he chews slowly. "Eat more, eat more, you're getting too thin."
Ryeowook looks up at Yesung, looks right into his eyes, and he feels a chill go down his spine at the dark, longing look in them.
_____________________________________________________________________
Ryeowook thinks it’s been five months since he was kidnapped. Things are better, if you could call them that - Yesung’s stopped tying him to the bed, and he’s allowed to walk around in the basement now. He figures the time out because Yesung brought him here in May, and at that time the cramped basement was warm and comfortable. Now, however, it’s chilly, and Ryeowook shivers under his blankets even after Yesung brings a portable heater down for him.
It’s probably inevitable that he catches a cold, in the damp basement, and it’s almost like being back to the first nightmarish month of his imprisonment as his fever rises ever higher and Yesung inundates him with medication that makes him drowsy even as his entire body aches and shakes and his head is constantly dizzy.
“Yesung…” he whispers hoarsely to him one night, when his fever climbs so high he almost can’t see through the pain.
“I’m here, Ryeowook,” Yesung says, his voice low and soothing and oddly reassuring. Ryeowook doesn’t know what makes him do it - later, when he’s able to think on it, he rationalizes it as him simply needing warmth and comfort from someone, anyone, just something to relieve the pain - but he reaches out blindly for Yesung and feels Yesung’s hands grip his tightly.
“It hurts,” he says with difficulty. “It hurts…”
He feels Yesung slide one arm under his back and the other arm under his knees, before he lifts Ryeowook gently off the bed. Ryeowook’s too weak to resist; he simply lolls limply in Yesung’s arms as he carries him into the little bathroom, sets him down against the wall, and removes his clothes carefully.
“No,” Ryeowook says, his little body shaking from both the fever and chills. “No, don’t…” He remembers the early days when he was still kept bound, and Yesung would carry him to the bathroom and bathe him rather than release him from his bonds, and sometimes he’d have Ryeowook in there. He wants to cry, or he would if he isn’t so ill. How can Yesung be cruel enough to still want to touch him even when he’s in this condition?
But to his surprise, Yesung doesn’t do what he thinks he’s about to do. Instead, he sponges Ryeowook slowly and gently, passing a damp cloth down his body, and Ryeowook feels the discomfort ease slightly as Yesung rubs cool water all over him.
He falls asleep just as Yesung finishes dressing him up in warm clothes again. He doesn’t remember Yesung carrying him back to the bed, but his fever breaks that night and when he wakes up the next day, Yesung’s curled up beside him again, arms around him and holding him tightly to his own warm body.
It’s irrational, but Ryeowook can’t help but feel a surge of gratitude towards Yesung for taking care of him.
____________________________________________________________________
Ryeowook thinks it’s been six months since he was kidnapped. He’s gone back to counting the days by the number of times Yesung has sex with him, even though he’s not very sure because there are long periods when Yesung doesn’t touch him at all, and other times when Yesung literally lives in his bed, taking him over and over again until he finally has his fill and falls into an exhausted sleep next to Ryeowook. He’s silent, always silent, even when Ryeowook cries or pleads. Ryeowook doesn’t do that so often anymore; he’s realized by now that it’s no use.
On one of these nights, Yesung's in Ryeowook's bed again, his hand clamped over Ryeowook's mouth as Ryeowook’s body moves helplessly with the force of Yesung's thrusts, Yesung's face tucked against his neck and his breaths hot and rapid and silent.
Ryeowook keeps his eyes closed - Yesung's nearing his climax soon, he knows after all these nights when Yesung's about to finish - when Yesung suddenly speaks, for the first time throughout all these terrifying nights, "Ryeowook..."
The sound of his name being spoken so unexpectedly in that sex-roughened voice makes Ryeowook's eyes snap open. He tries to look towards Yesung, but Yesung's pinning him down too tightly, and he isn't sure if he ought to be terrified or comforted that he’s finally speaking.
And then Yesung speaks again, once more. "Ryeowook, I love you, so fucking much." It comes out almost as a sigh, his voice husky and hoarse.
Ryeowook comes for the first time ever. He would have screamed, but Yesung's hand is still on his face, and Yesung follows right after.
Yesung doesn't say anything as he climbs off Ryeowook. Nothing to indicate that Ryeowook's semen is all over him, no satisfaction or triumph or displeasure whatsoever. He flops down next to Ryeowook and falls asleep, and Ryeowook is left shaking and crying silently as he tries to beat down the guilt.
Because he isn't supposed to enjoy it, is he?
_____________________________________________________________________
Ryeowook thinks it’s been seven months since he was kidnapped. He’s pretty sure about this, because one time, over a game of chess (they’d both gotten into the habit of playing chess together; Yesung taught him how to, and Ryeowook actually quite likes it), Yesung casually mentioned something about Christmas coming.
It makes his heart freeze over to think that more than half a year has passed, and they’re already almost into the new year, but he’s still down in this basement and why isn’t anyone looking for him and getting him out of here?
Then one night Yesung comes into the basement with a big grin and carrying something in a large wrapped box, and Ryeowook sits up on the bed and squints at it.
“What’s that?” he asks, and Yesung’s grin grows wider.
“Your Christmas present,” he says. “Open it.”
Ryeowook looks up at him. “Is it already Christmas?” he asks quietly, and Yesung’s smile slips a little but he nods nevertheless.
“You won’t ever let me go, will you, Yesung?” he says softly, and Yesung stares at him for a long moment before he speaks, changing the subject completely.
“Go on, open your present.”
Ryeowook does as Yesung says; it’s not like he has any other option. He pulls at the wrappings, tears at the pretty patterned paper, feeling his heart lighten somehow as the layers come away under his hands. Time seems to pass so slowly down here, and so much has happened, that he’s almost forgetten the simple joy of unwrapping a gift.
Before he knows it he’s smiling as he rips the paper away and opens up the box. Oddly enough, of all things, it’s just a small stereo set inside, but the sight of it makes Ryeowook’s heart leap. He’s spent six months down here without any music, and now that he has the means to listen to songs again, it makes him happier than he’d thought possible.
His eyes are blurry with tears when Yesung takes the box gently from him and hooks the set up to a socket in the wall which is still plastered with pictures of Ryeowook. There are more photos up there now, all taken by Yesung with his Polaroid camera; photos of him laughing, sleeping, eating, some even taken with Yesung. It doesn’t creep him out as much as it used to anymore. Yesung slips a CD in and Ryeowook’s eyes widen as the first familiar strains of one of his own early songs comes out, and then his voice bursts out of the speakers, the melody sweet and soothing and his own voice high and clear.
Yesung turns around and begins walking slowly towards him. “I love this song of yours, do you know? I fell in love with you after I heard it and heard your voice.”
Ryeowook can’t speak as he listens to his voice swell and fill the small space between himself and Yesung as he comes ever closer. When he reaches Ryeowook he reaches out, and Ryeowook catches a glimpse of something silver glinting in his fingers before he clasps it around his neck, his fingertips stroking the soft skin and making Ryeowook shiver.
It’s a necklace with a pendant in the shape of a music note, and Ryeowook’s eyes follow Yesung’s fingers as they trail along the chain and entangle themselves in it, pulling Ryeowook closer. Ryeowook clenches his fists because he knows what’s coming, and sure enough Yesung begins pushing him towards the bed, his free hand tearing at his clothes even as he never relinquishes his hold on the necklace, twisting it in his fingers and holding the smaller man close to him by it as his lips ravish Ryeowook’s.
It’s only later, when Yesung’s slamming roughly into him, that he puts his mouth close to Ryeowook’s ear and pants an answer to his question from earlier: “No, I won’t ever let you go.”
Ryeowook climaxes at that, as the sound of his own voice and the notes of his song blast out of the speakers and resonate around the walls, as Yesung tugs at him by the necklace and chafes the skin of his neck raw, as the feel and smell and taste of Yesung wraps completely around him, drowning him in it.
“I love you, Ryeowook,” Yesung rasps out, and the words rise unbidden in Ryeowook’s mind as Yesung collapses on top of him, both of them breathless and clinging to each other. I love you too.
_______________________________________________________________________
Ryeowook thinks it’s been eight months since he was kidnapped. Except that right now he really isn’t keeping count anymore, and he really can’t be bothered, not when he hasn’t seen Yesung in… three days? Four? Five? It drives him insane, the fact that he doesn’t have a clock, doesn’t have a window, nothing whatsoever to tell him how much time has passed.
But he knows this isn’t natural, something isn’t right, Yesung barely leaves his side, and now he’s disappeared for - for a much longer time than usual. He’d told Ryeowook he was leaving for a couple of hours to stock up on groceries and do some work, which is normal, because Yesung’s told him before that he’s a website designer who works from home and he has to stay upstairs when he has projects to complete. But what’s not normal is him not coming back down for days. He always spends every night with Ryeowook, even when he has work, and Ryeowook’s really panicking, almost hysterical, as he pounds on the door to the basement and cries for Yesung.
He isn’t afraid of starving, he has food here and he really doesn’t care if he were to die because being alone in here is even worse than just being alone, but he needs Yesung with him, he needs to feel that familiar body next to his every night, he needs to know that Yesung will be coming back to him and -
The door swings open as he prepares to hammer his already bloodied fists on it again and Yesung steps in, his face pale and worried.
“Oh my god, Ryeowook,” he says as Ryeowook stares at him with wild scared eyes, and then the wild look goes out of them and he falls into Yesung’s arms, relieved tears flowing uncontrollably.
“What happened to you?” he asks a little later, as he lies on the bed and Yesung cleans his bruised and bloody hands, pressing tender kisses to the torn knuckles.
“I’m so sorry,” Yesung says quietly. “I was in an accident - a small one,” he adds hastily as Ryeowook’s eyes fly open in shock. “I wasn’t careful when I drove to the supermarket. Someone crashed into me, and I had a concussion, and they insisted on keeping me in the hospital for two days. I’m so, so sorry, Ryeowook, I swear to you, I tried to come back to you as fast as I could.”
“I was so scared, Yesung, I thought - “ Ryeowook breaks off in a sob, his small hands fisting into the front of Yesung’s shirt, clinging on for all he’s worth.
“You thought I’d leave you?”
Ryeowook only nods, sniffling.
“I won’t,” Yesung says firmly. “I won’t ever leave you, and I’ll never let you leave me, either.”
Ryeowook doesn’t know if he means it. Two days without Yesung and he’s turned into a gibbering, mindless wreck, and all he knows is that he doesn’t want that to happen again, never wants to experience the panic and the terror, never wants Yesung to leave him alone, ever. And that’s why he begins unbuttoning Yesung’s shirt with hands that are uncertain and shaky and yet frenzied; that’s why he tilts his head up to kiss Yesung roughly and hungrily enough to bruise; that’s why he pleads against Yesung’s mouth, “I want you to fuck me now, Yesung.”
He feels Yesung tense up in shock and surprise at his forwardness and make to pull away from him, but he brings his legs up and wraps them around Yesung’s waist, his arms clasping Yesung’s neck and keeping them glued together.
“Just fuck me, please,” he begs again, and this time Yesung growls deep in his throat, pushing Ryeowook away from him and practically flinging him onto his hands and knees as he works his fingers roughly inside Ryeowook, his lips and tongue running down Ryeowook's spine, and Ryeowook whimpers at Yesung's every touch, burning fiery trails across his skin.
______________________________________________________________________
Ryeowook thinks it’s been ten months since he was kidnapped. Ten months of being held here, of seeing no sunlight, of being with no one except Yesung. He’s now into a brand new year, and he still isn’t rescued.
Not that he really wants to be, to be honest, not when he’s comfortable and secure and Yesung’s already started filling up a second wall with Polaroids of the both of them. Not when the thought of going back to his old life, singing on stage again to thousands of nameless faces, surrounded by the pressures of fame, makes him frankly ill. Not when the idea of being without Yesung’s constant presence by his side terrifies him into tears. Not when Yesung gives him everything he needs.
He realizes this one night when Yesung suddenly hooks his arms around Ryeowook’s elbows from behind and pulls him upright until he’s on his knees, arms twisted behind him and held there firmly by Yesung. Ryeowook gasps when Yesung pushes into him from this position, and it just feels so good, so unbelievably amazing, that he can’t help but moan and plead for more.
"My god, you like this," Yesung says huskily. "You actually like this."
"I do, I do," Ryeowook sobs, arching into Yesung as the other man hooks his arms more tightly around Ryeowook's, bringing one leg around Ryeowook's thigh and pulling at it to spread his legs further apart. "I like it, just don't stop, oh Yesung, please don't stop..."
"You're a slut, Ryeowook, a slut, that's all you are," Yesung pants as he pulls Ryeowook back even further until he's lifted completely off his knees and leaning back entirely on Yesung. Ryeowook cries out when Yesung begins pounding into him like this, feeling so helpless because he’s unable to move, unable to do anything but feel that delicious friction inside him.
Yesung hoists him up higher so only his toes brush the bed and his head falls back on Yesung's shoulder. Through the haze of pleasure clouding his eyes, Ryeowook sees Yesung bend close to his ear and whisper, in a voice roughened with the effort of punctuating each word with a firm thrust, "But - you’re - my - slut, Ryeowook."
Ryeowook screams Yesung's name over and over as he comes.
It’s true; Yesung gives him everything he needs and more. Why would he ever want to leave?
____________________________________________________________________
It’s May again, and almost a year to the day of Ryeowook’s imprisonment, when Yesung lets him out of the house for the first time.
Ryeowook’s been out of the basement for a month by then. He lives upstairs with Yesung now, leading a quiet, undisturbed life. They cook, and chat, and sometimes read or play games, and make love. It’s domestic and peaceful and Ryeowook’s never felt freer or happier.
He never questions why Yesung took him in the first place. He knows Yesung did it because he loves him, and it makes his heart swell with joy to think that he has someone who loves him so much that he’s willing to do anything to keep him by his side forever.
Ryeowook’s nervous when they venture out of the house together, even though Yesung seems strangely calm. He stares, wide-eyed, out of the car as Yesung drives to the supermarket, watching the people and the vehicles and the tall buildings, and he feels fear bubbling in his stomach and making him nauseated when they reach their destination and Ryeowook’s confronted with the necessity of mingling in a crowd for the first time in a year.
He feels Yesung’s hand clasp his tightly and he squeezes back, reassured by Yesung at his side.
It’s when they’re at the checkout counter that the cashier, a young woman in her twenties, looks up at Ryeowook and gasps.
“Oh my god,” she says, her eyes huge as they scan Ryeowook’s face. “Oh my god, are you Kim Ryeowook?”
Ryeowook feels Yesung stiffen next to him and he knows; this is the moment of truth.
He barely lets a second pass before he says, casually and without hesitation, “That singer who went missing last year? No way, I can’t even sing to save my life.” He laughs a little for good measure.
The girl visibly relaxes and so does Yesung, even though he’s gripping Ryeowook’s hand so tightly it’s almost numb. “Oh goodness, I thought you were him, you do resemble him.”
Ryeowook shrugs, hefting several bags; Yesung hurries over to take them from him instead. “Lots of people have told me that, yeah.”
The cashier laughs. “I’m sorry about that. Have a nice day, both of you.”
“Thanks, and no worries about that,” Ryeowook says, smiling as he walks out of the supermarket, Yesung following silently behind him.
In the car, on the way home, Yesung says quietly, “Ryeowook, you had your chance.”
Ryeowook turns and sees that Yesung’s gripping the steering wheel so tightly his fingers are white and bloodless. He reaches out and rubs his fingers over the knuckles gently, before leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to Yesung’s cheek.
“I love you and I’ll never leave you,” he says, and he feels Yesung’s cheek rise in a smile. It makes Ryeowook warm and happy. Of course he’d never leave Yesung, not when he belongs wholly to Yesung, body and soul.