Love Me Whenever 12/?
Title: Love Me Whenever 12/?
Author: 23elevens
Rating: PG-15
Wordcount: 1,759
Characters: mainly!Minkey, bff!JongTaeKey, Lunew, more characters to come
Genre: All kinds.
Summary: It shouldn't be right for a grown man of twenty-three to fall in love with a stripper that's a whole six years younger than him. But that's exactly what Minho does, and he will protect the boy at all costs.
Jonghyun is eight years old when he's discovered by Woonie-hyung for hiding in his parents' wardrobe- none of them were supposed to venture into the adults' room. But Jonghyun figures he has a right to, since after all he is the son of the owners of the house.
Jonghyun makes room for Woonie-hyung when he is asked to, eyes bright and cheery at the prospect of a new companion to accompany his stint in the dark, stifling wardrobe. He even wriggles deeper into an extremely hateful feather boa when the older boy asks him to, and slings his cramped, stubby legs over the awkwardly folded ones of the fourteen year old when the latter suggests he does after his legs start to hurt.
Let's play a game, Dongwoon mock-whispers into a cashmere sweater, running smooth hands up and down the length of Jonghyun's calves. The shorter of the two nods eagerly, but then remembers that his hyung can't see him, so he speaks aloud instead, rubbing droplets of sweat off the peak of his nose.
Okay.
Come closer, Dongwoon laughs, a Jonghyun is a little confused by the sudden scratchy feel of the elder boy's voice and the excitement lacing it, but he doesn't ponder over it too much, sure that it's because they finally have something to do after being isolated together in awkward silence for fifteen minutes.
How do we play here?
We can, but we have to be really quiet, at least till we're found. Close your eyes.
Why?
Just do it.
So Jonghyun does, squeezing them as tight as he can and crossing his arms against his chest. He feels Dongwoon's hand clamp on his ankle, and he stifles a giggle.
Hyung, that tickles-
Be still, it's all part of the game, Dongwoon whispers again, but he lets go this time, and Jonghyun opens his eyes to see the gleam of white, crooked teeth in the dark space.
How do we play?
Close your eyes. Jonghyun reluctantly does it again, and slumps a little more comfortably against the makeshift backing he has made with his mother's jeans so as to lie back properly. The game doesn't sound very promising, but Jonghyun is just about bored out of his mind to care too much.
Here’s how it goes. I'm going to touch you someplace, but before I do, you make a guess on where I'm going to touch you. If you're right, you get to poke me in the ribs, just once. Got it? But we have to be really quiet.
Got it, Jonghyun echoes, closing his eyes once again. A sudden thought strikes him, and the words tumble out of his mouth like hurried trains. Woonie-hyung, what if I'm wro-
Start taking a guess already. Dongwoon's voice is barely a strangled whisper. Jonghyun can almost hear the other boy breathing, and the confused shouts of the other children in the distance.
Okay. Is it my nose? My neck? My finger? My- oh!
Jonghyun's eyes shoot open at the sudden pressure at his abdomen, and he is greeted with a much-too-close-up of Dongwoon breathing hot air into his face and smirking. What are you
Shh, kid. You cheated. I get to poke you now, Dongwoon says, but his hand remains dangerously close to Jonghyun's crotch. The eight-year-old clears his throat, breath hitching in time with the skip-beat of his hammering heart. Dongwoon's breath is putrid and stale in his face.
H-hyung-
Shh, Dongwoon says again, and Jonghyun slams his mouth shut immediately, tears springing to his eyes. The elder has one hand clamped over his crotch much too tightly, and the other is roughly pushed against his mouth, so hard that the single ring on Dongwoon's right hand cuts into the shorter boy's gums.
Jonghyun doesn't make a sound as he watches the glint of Dongwoon's mud-colored eyes shimmer in the creeping dark, his body pressed flat against the wall of the wardrobe. Dongwoon's free hand is snaking up the inside of Jonghyun's thigh and disappearing into his Barney shorts, and somehow the middle-schooler knows that the game has changed to something much darker and sinister.
Don't yell, Dongwoon whispers again, a blunt fingernail curling down the tiny bulge of the boy. It hurts and stings so much, but Jonghyun doesn't say anything, and just closes his dull eyes.
Don't tell mommy, or it wouldn't be just a poke in the ribs.
Jonghyun nods dumbly.
~
Jonghyun is ten and pressed into the fabric of his Spongebob sheets- no, he doesn't like Barney any more. It is half past two in the morning, and Dongwoon is in his room, right on top of him. Jonghyun has been avoiding the older boy since that day in the wardrobe, feigning sick every time he has to go over as visit the Sons. He has succeeded until his mother decides to have a little get-together with the family this Christmas, and have everyone stay over- why not? The Kims have a pretty big place.
I've missed you, Dongwoon breathes, and two fingers pinch harshly at one of Jonghyun's exposed pink nipple. The preteen's shirt is bunched up around his armpits, and his breath shudders in and out unsteadily and Dongwoon rubs his crotch against his own. There is a pleasant feeling raking up and down his spine, but he doesn't know what it is and he is too afraid to find out.
Were you avoiding me? Dongwoon asks against the violating pressure of tongue along the seams of Jonghyun's tightly pressed lips. The black-haired boy shakes his head violently in response, gasping for his own air as Dongwoon's mouth leaves his in favor of oxygen, but not for long.
Doesn't seem like it to me, Dongwoon whispers, biting at Jonghyun's collarbones. The younger yelps, and he is promptly rewarded with a dizzying punch to the side of his temple. Jonghyun's world spins crazily.
Don't make a sound. Jonghyun's room is filled with the sound of a zipper being pulled and the rustle of Bermudas as they are pushed down the strong thighs of the brunette.
Jonghyun squirms helplessly beneath the bigger, taller, stronger boy, and has his face almost bruising from the amount of force Dongwoon is exerting to keep him quiet. Jonghyun is more afraid than he ever has been in his entire decade of life.
Dongwoon lets go soon after and plants a harsh kiss at the side of Jonghyun's neck, squeezing at the preteen member just hard enough to elicit an uncomfortable squeak from the boy. Rough stubble scrapes the smooth, fair skin of the bottoming boy.
Jonghyun's body is freed for a split second as Dongwoon rolls off him, but his head is held in captive as he is dragged up and down again, then onto his knees like a pathetic dog. His head is pressed and lowered until his nose bumps against the most vile thing Jonghyun's eyes have ever shown to him, and a single tear escapes his tortured, sleep-deprived eyes.
Suck, Dongwoon murmurs, and Jonghyun does.
~
Jonghyun is sixteen, and has been violated in all imaginable ways possible by every man that has the opportunity to meet him, courtesy of Dongwoon. Over the years, Jonghyun has learnt about the ways his life is supposed to be run, and has learnt to accept every thing that Dongwoon has shoved into his life- and ass. Jonghyun's sixteen-year-old eyes no longer know light as he obeys the older man, and keeps quiet just because he is told to.
Today, Jonghyun is kicked out of his room and has his things flung at him, even a china horse that has been sitting on his desk since he's entered middle school. Jonghyun is only wearing his briefs and a wrinkled dress shirt as he ducks behind the couch, the side of his head pounding aggravatingly and steadily dripping with blood as he attempts to outrun his irate father and sobbing mother. Jonghyun has been discovered giving head to two of Dongwoon's schoolmates at the same time in his room after school today by his parents, and nothing he says will make them change their minds about throwing him out of the house for being the whoring, queer cunt that he is.
It's not my fault I'm queer, Jonghyun wants to shout at them, but the ornate wooden door is slammed shut with immense force before he can even begin to speak, and his things fly higgledy-piggledy out of the French windows. Jonghyun scrambles to retrieve his few valuable possessions, not caring about the curious, fucking eyes of his neighbors. White fluid streams lazily down the backs of Jonghyun's legs, and his mouth feels awful, but Jonghyun doesn't really care anymore.
He wobbles on a few pots and tip toes, just tall enough to see into the rapidly-destroyed remnants of his former home. He sees his utterly, completely disappointed father rage again at the sight of him, and he next thing he knows, he is holding his face and crumpled on the floor, listening to the muffled shouts and wails of his parents and older sister behind the French window. Jonghyun cries along with his sister, not giving a shit about the fucking neighbors as he huddles into a ball on the floor, retching uncontrollably.
When the house is quiet and darkness cloaks the sky, Jonghyun sits up with red-rimmed eyes and crawls up to the window again. He is greeted by the sight of his mangled living room and substance splattered couch, but what kills his heart the most is the sight of his mother, lying crumpled at the floor of the exquisite, winding stairs and weeping her eyes out, tearing uselessly at her hair. Jonghyun catches a couple of whimpers of his name through the crack of the window, and just then, his phone chimes. Jonghyun ignored the throbbing of his wrist as he fishes out his chiming phone.
Are you alright, the text reads, and Jonghyun hurls his phone as far away as he can into the night. It's from Son mother-fucking Dongwoon.
Jonghyun scribbles woodenly on the painted walls, just beneath the French windows, then crushes the stray pencil beneath his bare foot into the wet, cold mud. Without a sound, Jonghyun gathers his books and clothes with a sack he's snuck from the garden shed and slings it over his back. His feet slide about in uncomfortable, mildew-filled garden boots as he sways away into the night, leaving his broken house behind him without any last tearful glances.
It wasn’t my fault.
A/N - I wrote it the day after I posted chapter 11, but only found time to post this now heh. Sorry about the late and short update. I hope the storyline of this isn’t too obvious; we’re still halfway into the series! >< But if you guys know what’s about to happen- well, I’ll be damned. /kicks oneself/ and this is probably the shortest chapter in the entire series so far, but I hope you guys understand Jonghyun a little better now. (:
Anyway, I probably will be updating much slower this year, because I’m supposed to be sitting for my national exams, which’ll determine which college/polytechnic I’ll go in the future, as well as point me the general direction of my life. I have a lot of catching up to do, but I’ll still write since this is kind of my passion. (: I hope you guys will still stay with me despite, you know, everything crap that my stuff usually is. And the insanely long A/Ns :/