#073. The Other One
Broken Delusions
#073. The Other one, Doojoon/Dongwoon
Fic: 1/100
A/N: Beta-ed by playfulninja
He knew his place, where he stood, his position in the relationship. It was achingly clear, like sharp shards of broken glass cutting into his skin, a constant reminder trailing down in the form of crimson tears.
“You’re an idiot,” was what Junhyung said, watching him with a mixture of pity and frustration as he stared out the window.
I know, hyung, was the answer he never said aloud. Because Dongwoon was not stupid, but he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t do it even with reality harshly slapping him in the face, hoping to wake him up.
He knew his place when he passed by the weeping willow tree, the breeze teasingly rustling the slender branches apart to reveal Doojoon in his own world, a world structured around her. Her, curled up by his side as he stroked her long, midnight locks and sung her a soft lullaby. But the breeze was forgiving, or perhaps it was cruel, and closed the curtains on their world, leaving Dongwoon no choice but to swallow hard and walk away, pretending that his stomach was not twisting and the piercing sharpness that echoed through his heart was nothing more than ache from indigestion.
“You’re a masochist,” Junhyung decided, bluntly, harshly, perceptively when Dongwoon stumbled in looking lost, broken, unfixable.
But I can’t stop myself, the younger man silently answered, looking everywhere but at those piercing eyes that seem to understand all too well.
He knew where he stood when he caught them, the campus couple, up in the bleachers by the soccer fields for the world to see because, really, they didn’t have anything to hide. And Doojoon was kissing her, softly, sweetly, hands gently caressing her cheek, fingers lightly skimming her waist, as if she was something delicate, valuable, something that would break if he used too much force, something that he wanted to keep forever, something that he couldn’t bear to live without.
But then their friends came along and they broke apart, all shy smiles and blushing cheeks from her and cheeky grins and definitive possessiveness from him, because, after all, he had just marked her his. Yet that didn’t stop the relief that overcame Dongwoon, the ability to breathe rushing back with such force he gasped, barely audible above the rapid beat of his pulse in his ears.
“You need to stop,” Junhyung informed him when he found the younger man alone in an empty classroom, eyes rimmed red from tears he refused to shed.
I can’t, Dongwoon answered in lifeless blinks, staring emptily at his hyung.
He knew his position when he walked past them on the way to class. He knew from the way they walked past each other, shoulders touching in something harsher than a brush, but lighter than a shove. And Doojoon ignored it, his attention all adoringly given to her, with his arm around her shoulder, eyes never leaving hers, like there was nothing else in the world but her, while Dongwoon stumbled and tried not to fall. Because if he did, he knew he would not get up again.
“I am going to kill that bastard,” Junhyung snarled, looking like he was about to hit something. Instead, he lit a cigarette, angrily blowing out curling wisps of smoke so that a haze soon covered the immediate area.
Dongwoon simply nodded and tried not to shatter even though tears were already silently streaming down his cheeks. He softly sobbed, arms wrapped tightly around himself as if it would hold everything together and Junhyung suddenly lashed out at a desk, channeling all his frustration into the kick.
Dongwoon knew who he was, the title he held. He was the whore, the slut, the home wrecker, the other one, destroying their perfect fairytale relationship. He had no place in their story, yet he couldn’t let it go, couldn’t step away, tangled in a thousand strands of red that refused to unknot. Because every time he tried to stop, tried to get away, they would simply wrap around him tighter, taunt and unyielding until his skin broke apart from the pressure, each drop of spilt blood, each new shock of pain a reminder, punishment, of who he was, what he was.
But sometimes, just sometimes, his perfectly clear glass would blur, hazing over from the smudges of too many fingerprints pressed instantly against the cold surface, and for a moment, his view would be distorted.
Distorted by the strong hands that grab as he passed by, pulling him into an empty classroom and pressing him against the wall. Distorted by the lips against his, insistent and urgent, like each second was their last. Distorted by the same mouth that littered his bared skin with butterfly kisses, accompanied with soft “I love you's" repeated until he actually started believing the words.
And for a moment, he wasn’t the other one, but it always ended too quickly because the hands on him were rough, accidently ripping off the buttons of his uniform and leaving lasting bruises on his hip. The mouth was harsh, more teeth than lips, canines biting a little too hard, and each act of softness followed by nips that would leave marks that needed to be hidden the next day.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” is what Doojoon would say as he made his way across the younger man’s body, intense and unforgiving. And maybe it was better this way. Because Dongwoon was not her. He was not a girl, that girl, meant to be treated like a fragile treasure, meant to be cherished, loved, like something special because he was nothing more than a whore. Even though it was Doojoon who made a move first. It was Doojoon who cornered him, kissed him, whispered empty promises into his ear. Dongwoon should have known better. He should have walked away.
Except he did know better. He was just never strong enough to leave, too weak to claw his way out of the crushing grasp the older man had on him, selfish and unrelenting. So instead, he tortured himself with each moment they spent together, lies gathering in the shell of his ear and his own lips against Doojoon’s neck, gasping his name because there was nothing else he could say.
I love you. Words he could never say because he actually meant them.
Stay with me. Because Doojoon would never, should never, leave his princess, the fairytale world he belonged in.
Let’s stop. Because he was selfish, oh so selfish, wanting, needing, these moments where Doojoon was entirely his, even if they never lasted more than a half an hour long.
It was always slightly awkward when it was over. There was always a flash of regret in Doojoon’s eyes as he watched Dongwoon gather up his clothes again, the dress shirt that was never fully taken off sliding off the younger boy’s shoulder, revealing dark marks on pale skin, marring the innocence of the milky white. A flicker of remorse on Doojoon’s face as Dongwoon gathered up the buttons that flew from his shirt, already feeling the pinpricks of needles attacking his fingers as he sewed his buttons back on later that night.
“I’ll-uh-see you later,” Doojoon would always say with an uneasy smile.
“Yeah,” is how Dongwoon always answered, voice hoarse, but lips, still cherry red from the abuse they went through, curling into a smile as if it would ease the guilt that was written all over Doojoon's face.
And then Doojoon would leave and that smile would disappear, turning into some sort of weak grimace because Dongwoon already knew what would follow, the ignoring, the disregarding, acting like he didn’t exist, that he was nothing more than a miniscule ant on the ground Doojoon happened to step over, completely unnoticed. Unnoticed until next time, when hands would randomly grab him from the hallways and everything was repeated, over and over again, each time, killing a little more of Son Dongwoon.
But really, it was better this way because he wasn’t Yoon Doojoon’s world. He was simply a detour, a break, an oasis when Doojoon became lost. It was temporary, fleeting, nothing like what Doojoon had with her. That, that would last forever, those adoring smiles, caring eyes, gentle hands. Because she was the actual one, the one he was meant to be with, forever protected and loved. Because she was nothing like Dongwoon, perfect where he was flawed, whole when he was broken.
It was better this way. After all, he was nothing more than the other one.
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This is my first Beast fanfic ever, so I hope you like it~! :D