Mr. Brightside
Mr. Brightside
Suho/Kai, Suho/Kris
R
Warnings (highlight to see): character death
Angst/Romance
A/N: This was a prompt made at exopromtmeme. I hope I did it justice! Also I used this playlist to write the fic so maybe you might want to listen along to it as you read?
Summary: Being as in love with you as I am, you make me feel like I've been locked out of heaven for too long.
Prologue
Jongin looks down at his blood covered hands. He can't believe that just a few months ago he was floating above everything and everyone, absolutely soaring from how happy and in love he was. Nothing could bring him down from the cloud he was on. Now, it seems impossible that anything can hurt this much. But it does. The feeling, so indescribable, leaves Jongin breathless. Having a police officer asking him to describe it is absolute torture. More torturous than wondering how he's going to get this blood off his hands and clothes, but more than that; how will he ever get it off his mind? How will he ever get the memories and nightmares to stop haunting him?
"Sir, can you tell us what happened?"
Jongin opens his mouth, eyes poised on the dark red stain on the otherwise immaculate rug, and lies.
//
New York City is a place where you either fly higher than the stars, or hit the pavement before you even have a chance to spread your wings and try. When Jongin first came to the city, he had all the dreams of a fresh eyed star catcher, but somehow he ended up with his hands full of the burnt ashes of his ambitions. He has had to pack his dreams in a suitcase underneath his bed, and forget about them to survive. It's hard to come by a good break, let alone food, when you're an amazing dancer among a sea of amazing dancers. Even the one's who study at the best academies and come from money end up just as poor and starving as Jongin. It's a dog eat dog world and Jongin has been bitten too many times. He's a carcass at this point, not leaving for the sole fact that his pride wouldn't be able to stand the humiliation. Not like he'd have anywhere to go anyway, seeing as his parents threw him out when he professed his love for endless goals and sleepless nights on the streets. When he does perform, however, those moments so scarce and fleeting, are the air he breaths and his meals when he can't stomach the hunger. He feels weightless, and not a single worry clouds his mind when his soul is flying through his body. Sometimes the sacrifice is worth it, the rejection, the constant reminder that he's not as good as he believes himself to be. Aside from performing, there's only one thing that brings him such happiness. Well, make that one person.
Five blocks from the apartment Jongin shares with 10 other fame hungry, lost souls, is the most famous club in town. In that club sings the most beautiful man in the world, and not just according to Jongin.
Suho, bright eyed and wonderful, who got discovered at the age of 16, and has been lighting the stage of lonely people's hearts ever since. After living on the West for the past few years, he's now taken residence in his native New York, singing every night at his father's club. Jongin couldn't be happier that he chose this moment to live in New York. Jongin used to sneak into the club every Friday night just to hear Suho sing, until the manager caught him and gave him an ultimatum. He could either start paying for admittance, which would be impossible on a starving artists non-salary, or start working as a bus boy. He of course couldn't go on without the pleasure of hearing Suho sing; Suho's voice made Jongin's soul dance in a way nothing else could. The cash was definitely welcome, so he started cleaning the club at night. It meant he could sit backstage, listening to Suho's set, and then end the night dancing around the stage to the lingering melodies clinging to the curtains.
//
One night, Suho hangs back by the bar. Jongin is trying to clean the remaining bottles and napkins, but even Suho's humming is beautiful, so he just wants to waltz between the tables, maybe ask him for a dance.
"I think I'm gonna head home, Suho," the bartender says, taking off his apron. It's been a long day for both of them. Suho sang 4 encores, so the bartender had to keep pouring drink after drink for the ungrateful wealthy men and women.
"Sure thing, Tao, go ahead. Thanks for hanging back. Keep the bar open though, I'll give you the key tomorrow."
Tao smiles as he leaves. Suho waves goodbye at him. Jongin can't believe they're alone.
Slow seconds pass. Suho's humming quiets to a soft whisper until he looks around, noticing he isn't alone. A shiver creeps up Jongin's back when Suho turns sleepy eyes on him.
He sizes him up, allowing his eyes to wander over Jongin slowly. He looks up at his face and smiles, warm and friendly. "What's your name, kid?"
"Jongin," he says.
Suho looks around the mostly empty tables and then back at Jongin. "Do you want some help?"
"No, I'm fine, thanks."
"Then do you want to come over here and have a drink? Cleaning after all those rich snobs must be pretty annoying, huh? Well, come to think of it, I'm one of those rich snobs, I guess, but I always make sure to throw away my own crap." He hiccups, smile wavering slightly. Jongin wonders how many drinks he has had already. "Do you want to share a drink or not? I think you're going to have to drive me home too."
Jongin feels frozen to the spot. Not only is he talking to Suho, he might even get to drive him home. At Suho's expectant face, he walks to the bar nervously, hoping the sandwich he had for lunch will stay down long enough to get him through this conversation. He sits down on the bar stool next to Suho and swallows his nerves.
"So what's your story, Jongin?" Suho stares at him, eyes momentarily losing focus as he sways from side to side.
Jongin stares at him, having a hard time believing he's so close to his thin hands and pale face. "Story? What do you mean?"
"Your story, what are you all about? Everyone's got a story."
"Uhm, well I want to be a dancer."
"A dancer? Well, you've sure got the physique," Suho winks at him. "So did you move here to hit it big?"
Jongin shifts in his seat, taking the glass Suho offers him. "Not exactly," he downs the drink, "I just want the opportunity to show people what I can do."
Suho stares at him, eyes gleaming a little. "You sound just like me when I was your age-wait, how old are you?"
"Nineteen."
"Well I was fifteen when I wanted to be a big star," his smile turns sour. "Little did I know I'd get more than I bargained for."
Jongin doesn't know if he should pry. Suho can't be having a good day. Jongin has never seen him stay back to drink from the bar. He probably has a bigger bar in his apartment, with a better selection of alcohol no doubt. There would be no reason for him to hang back.
"Would you ever sell something you love to someone who doesn't deserve it?" Suho asks suddenly, looking at the half-empty liquor bottle. His eyes narrow at it accusingly, looking angrier than Jongin's ever seen him. Then he sighs, features softening one by one until he just looks numb again.
When Jongin's about to ask him what he means, Suho shakes his head so he guesses he doesn't really want an answer.
"I'm ready to go home," Suho says suddenly, straightening his back. "Can you drive me? It's pretty late so you'll probably have to stay over."
Jongin's throat closes like a paper fan snapping shut. He wonders how many men Suho has gotten into his bed by batting his pretty eyelashes and casually inviting them to his lavish apartment. Jongin momentarily feels sick, thinking of the implication that Suho probably only sees him as a fuck and nothing more. An easy conquest just because he's there.
Suho's feet wobble as he stands up, but Jongin is quick to help steady him.
"You're nice," Suho tells him, hand crawling up to grip his arm. "I don't meet many nice boys in my line of work."
Jongin smiles to distract himself, and Suho smiles back. He rattles on about liking Jongin's shirt as they walk to his car, but as soon his head hits the headrest, he's out like a light. Jongin can't find it in himself to wake him up, for whatever reason he was trying to get drunk in the first place. Jongin doesn't want to disturb his peace, so he drives to his apartment instead of Suho's. He leaves the car two blocks away, so that it doesn't attract attention or get stolen, and he carries Suho up the stairs. He's surprisingly light, and Jongin can't help but think he fits nicely in his arms.
Sehun opens the door when Jongin whistles their secret password. His eyes widen when he sees Jongin carrying Suho.
"Where'd you pick this one from?"
"He's Suho from the bar," Jongin tells him, stepping inside with the now blissfully snoring singer in his arms. "Can you let us have the big room?"
Sehun frowns. "We don't want to hear you two having sex."
Jongin rolls his eyes at him. "He's asleep, I don't think that will be a problem. Just tell the others to gather in the living room or something. I don't want him to wake up with ten dirty people on top of him."
Sehun sighs and shrugs. "Fine, but you're getting pizza next week." He leaves to get the others into the living room.
Suho stirs in Jongin's arms, but thankfully yawns and snuggles further into his embrace. Jongin watches his eyelashes flutter momentarily, then still like a butterfly's wings resting in between flight. His hair sticks to his forehead from the perspiration, and his eyes are smudged where his eyeliner ran a little, but he still looks mesmerizing to Jongin. He wonders what it would feel like to touch that perfect skin, but Jongin knows this is probably the closest he'll ever be to him. Sehun comes out a moment later to tell them the room is ready.
Jongin sets Suho down softly on the bed and takes off his shoes. He looks at him for a second, as he blindly reaches for the pillow and hugs it to his body, and then turns off the light and goes outside. Sehun narrows his eyes at Jongin when he lies down beside him, but otherwise doesn't protest.
Before Suho wakes up the next morning, Jongin makes him pancakes with the few ingredients they have. Suho is silent during breakfast, smiling politely at the incessant chatter around him. It's so strange to see Suho in this ambience, surrounded by grim and dirt. He looks tired, but somehow he manages to seem interested when Sehun talks about his next audition or Yixing goes off about his latest adventure with tourists in Time's Square.
When Jongin walks him back to his car, Suho grasps his arm and frowns at him. "So that's your story then?" he asks. "It's not very pretty."
Jongin shrugs. "I guess, but it's the best I can do for now."
Suho bites his lip, looking very unfamiliar to Jongin, who's only ever seen him as the confident singer on stage, and only vulnerable while sleeping as of recently. However his face now, a mix of uncertainty and nervousness, is very uncharacteristic of Suho. He looks at Jongin and smiles softly. "Would you mind if I filled up a few chapters?"
"Of what?" Jongin asks, completely oblivious to everything other than Suho's smile. He even finds it hard to stare at him too long, because even though he's in last night's clothes, in desperate need of a shower, and a little sad looking, Jongin would still willingly do anything Suho aks of him.
"Of your story. I bet I could make it a little happier. You know, I've had my eye on you for a while now," Suho tells him, leaning in like he's relaying a great secret. "I saw you dancing a few weeks ago in the storage room. You thought no one could see you, but I did. I was completely mesmerized. I had no idea the human body could move the way you do. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Suho smiles and then looks over his shoulder at his car, casually masking his previous confession. "I should probably go now. My manager is going to flip out if I don't call him first thing in the morning. You think about it." And just like that he reaches forward and plants a kiss on Jongin's stunned lips. Suho walks away, positively rooting Jongin in place. Once he finally can move again, Jongin isn't the least bit surprised when his feet walk him towards the bridge he always dances under. He lets his heart soar because his body can't, but Suho makes him feel like he could.
//
Suho's face is the first thing Jongin sees when he gets to work. Suho stands by the back entrance, and he somehow manages to make even the grimy alley look nicer because of his presence.
"So, how was your weekend?"
Jongin looks at him.
"Okay, that's not what I wanted to know. I actually wanted to know if you'd want to have dinner with me...as a thank you for taking care of me on Friday." He presses his hand to his heart. "I really appreciate you not taking advantage of me in my ridiculously drunken state."
Jongin's hands come up to wrap around his shoulders. The weather is getting colder now. He wonders how long Suho waited for him. "Of course, I mean, I'd be honored to have dinner with you."
Suho smiles, brilliantly humble and handsome. "You're very sweet. It'll be a low-key affair, just you and me at my apartment."
Jongin has never been happier to hear the words low-key in his life. "I'm looking forward to it."
"I'll wait for you once your shift is done."
During Suho's set, Jongin's chest swells as he hears Suho sing about lost love and rekindled love and new love, and never had those songs made so much sense until that moment.
//
The first thing Jongin notices when he walks into Suho's apartment is that blue and gold seem to be the only colors he buys things in. Blue sofa. Golden designs on the arm rest. Blue coffee mug. Gold curtains. When Jongin mentions this to Suho, he says, "it's royal blue."
"What?" Jongin asks.
Suho smiles, holding Jongin's chair out for him. "It's royal blue, not just blue. They're different colors."
Jongin shrugs. "For poor people it's all blue." He's surprised when Suho laughs, a different laugh than when patrons cat call to him on stage.
"Well I hope this meal isn't blue," Suho says, bringing in the plates from the kitchen. "I actually put some effort into making it."
"You made this?" Jongin asks, already salivating over the smell of fresh food.
"Of course, what did you think? I'd get take out on our first date?" Suho asks, arching an eyebrow at Jongin.
"Date?"
Suho nods. "Isn't this a date?"
"I- well, I don't-" Jongin feels like the biggest idiot, and he must sound like it too. The way Suho stares at him makes him wish the ground would swallow him up, but then that breathtaking smile is back and, ironically, Jongin can breathe again. "It's fine," Suho says, "I didn't expect you to know it was a date. Just relax. I'm probably just as nervous as you are. I haven't had an actual date in a while."
Jongin eases into the meal effortlessly after that. There's something about knowing the person you're trying to impress is also trying to impress you that makes him less nervous. Suho is a perfect date. He tilts his head to show his interest in what Jongin has to say. Grips his sides when Jongin makes him laugh so hard he cries. For the length of the meal, Jongin doesn't feel like he's talking to Suho the singer, he's talking to Suho the person. Suho's so easy to be with, it amazes Jongin he was ever afraid of being alone with him.
"Are you ready for dessert?" Suho asks, mischievous smile playing on his lips.
"Dessert?" Jongin smiles. "Sure, what is it?"
Suho bites his lip, smile threatening to outshine the sun. "Follow me."
Jongin is so mesmerized by the way Suho's hand feels in his that he doesn't notice Suho leading him into his bedroom. He doesn't notice the lights dim or the way Suho's staring at him. It isn't until Suho kisses him that Jongin realizes he is the dessert.
//
As time goes on, Jongin realizes he's not the only man in Suho's life. He slowly starts to see the bits that are missing, the parts someone else has taken away and claimed as theirs. Suho isn't exactly broken, but he's not completely whole either. There are things he can't do with Jongin, like stay in the morning to have breakfast, or hang out on weekends. The other man in Suho's life takes up a lot of his time, far too much for Jongin's liking. For months, Jongin doesn't even want to know who it is, but eventually the clues start to string together, making it clear who owns the part of Suho's life he doesn't spend with Jongin.
Jongin tries to pretend for as long as he can until he can't stand it anymore. The thought of someone else touching Suho makes him sick to his stomach. What feels worse is knowing that he's the other man, not the other way around.
//
Jongin's hands curve around the empty beer bottle before he tosses it in the trash. A familiar warmth creeps up the side of his neck as lips press there and he freezes, stunned at the touch, especially in public.
"What are you doing?" Jongin asks Suho.
"I wanted to say hello before my set," Suho whispers back. "Didn't you miss me this week?"
"Of course I didn't." Jongin turns around, ignoring the dirty looks from servers and bartenders around them, all jealous that he gets Suho's affections and they don't.
"Of course you didn't," Suho smiles, "How silly of me to think you had missed me while I was gone. Sure, alright."
Jongin's glare wains and he matches Suho's glowing smile. "Okay, maybe I missed you a little bit."
"Maybe?" Suho cocks an eyebrow. "That's not too reassuring."
Jongin's throat closes up when he notices a deep purple mark on Suho's neck. He has to hold himself back from reaching out to touch it, cover it, get it off his skin. "What's this?"
Suho lifts his fingers up to the spot Jongin is staring holes into and frowns. "Jongin, don't do this."
"Was that Kris? Was he on your trip with you?"
Suho bites his lip. He looks away, ashamed like he should be because he's tearing Jongin's heart to shreds and he knows it. "Just ignore it."
Jongin wants to ignore it, so badly, more than anything, but it's too late now. That mark is going to haunt him when he's alone. When he's not with Suho, all he'll be able to think about is Kris' hands on him.
"I gotta go up and practice, okay?" Suho's smile is fleeting. Jongin wishes he could keep it in his heart. Where no one can hurt it or manipulate it. "I'll come find you after I'm done."
Jongin nods, feeling his heart shatter in his chest when Suho leaves, taking his smile and warmth with him.
//
Suho's apartment is too big for one person, he says. He likes the company. He loves when Jongin fills up the space with his big movements around the sitting area. They push the furniture out of the way, and Jongin lets Suho bump into him when he's had some wine. Suho likes when Jongin's there, he says. But for some reason, Suho always ends up waking up before Jongin, and leaving him alone in his big bed in his big apartment to go see Kris. Suho loves Jongin, he says, but then why does Jongin feel hollow every morning? Why does Jongin know that in between his kisses, Kris also has ownership of Suho's lips? Why does bile threaten to rise each time he hears Suho take a call from Kris or mention anything about him? Jongin knows this is no way to live. It's not normal to love someone who already belongs to someone else.
In the deepest part of Jongin's mind, he knows Suho doesn't want to hurt him. He knows it by the way he looks at him, all apologetic and repentant. Sometimes that's enough to ease Jongin's suffering. As long as Suho knows he's hurting, that's enough for him. But some times, most times, it's not enough. It's a nightmare. If Suho knows, why can't he stop? Why can't Suho stop hurting him?
//
On paper, Kris is Joonmyun's manager. In reality, he pays for his apartment, buys him fancy dinners at expensive restaurants, and takes him on trips around the world. Without Kris, Suho wouldn't be where he is today. Without Kris, Suho would probably be where Kai is, struggling to find the ends in the first place to make them meet. Kris likes to remind Suho that his success is completely his doing.
One afternoon, Jongin is in Suho's apartment, practicing for an audition he has that Saturday. Suho is by the grand piano, doing warm ups before his gig the next day. He's really quite an inspiration to Jongin, who would be happy with merely an ounce of Suho's fame. Jongin could argue that Suho's dedication is what got him to the top, and that Kris was the one who got lucky to find him when he did.
"Jongin, would you mind grabbing me a water?" Suho calls out, not seizing his hand motions over the keys.
Jongin stares at him, amused. "I didn't know I'd become your water boy."
Suho ducks his head, shy and embarrassed. "Sorry, I guess I'm just used to-" He stops mid-sentence, looking back at the music sheet. "Never mind, I'll get it myself."
"Used to Kris doing everything for you?" Kai asks, not being able to bite his tongue on time.
Suho's eyes grow cold. "Don't be so jealous."
"Oh right sorry, it's normal for me to share you with someone else. I forgot, my bad."
A terribly frightening silence settles between them. Jongin doesn't want to apologize, but he knows he's being unfair. That is what they are to each other, unfair and sadly too afraid to admit when they are wrong. At this point, Jongin isn't sure who's wrong or right anymore. He just wants it to be simpler. He wants Suho to be his. He wants to be able to kiss him languidly in the morning, not in a rush as he goes to spend the morning with Kris. Does Suho know Jongin can't sleep when they are apart? Does Suho know that the last time Jongin saw another mark he hadn't made on his skin, he'd thrown up as soon as he'd left? The thought of Kris' hands on the same skin he touches makes his stomach turn.
"Can we go to bed now?" Suho asks, voice tired. He looks up at Jongin and pleads, begs him to let it go.
Jongin still has so much more to say, but he shuts his mouth and follows Suho to his bedroom.
//
"Joonmyun, what do you want most in the world?"
Suho's hands grip Jongin's sides, thumbs press just bellow his ribs. Eyes ridden with sleep and hair tousled in all directions, he smiles. "Uhmm? Maybe to be the most loved singer in the world."
Jongin smiles, turning his head to laugh into the pillow.
"Why? What do you want? To be the best dancer? To get signed with the best ballet company? Come on, what does Kim Jongin want most in the world?"
"Why are you asking? You know it's you."
Suho's hands still, smile fades. "Jongin-you know I-"
"I know," Jongin tries to reassure him softly. "I know you love me."
"I really do," Suho whispers. "I just, I can't-"
"I know," Jongin smooths back his hair. "I know you can't give me everything I want."
"You don't even ask for much," Suho sighs, burying his face in Jongin's chest. "You just want me to yourself and I can't even give you that much."
"Having you now is enough," Jongin says. Every bone and tissue in Jongin's body makes him wish he could believe that.
//
Jongin feels like a joke. Each time he finds another mark on Suho's skin, his entire world crumbles. He's on a roller-coaster created on his own turbulent emotions. He hates not knowing where Suho goes, not even being able to ask. Sometimes he thinks he can't be asking too much. To want to be the starring role of someone's heart, the person you love no less, can't be too big of a demand. Jongin doesn't want Suho's appendix, or his liver or even his kidneys. He just wants his heart.
He tries to reassure himself in the early hours of the day. Suho doesn't love Kris. He never has and never will. Suho only loves him. Always has and always will. Jongin isn't a replacement. Suho doesn't just want Jongin for sex. Suho loves Jongin, as much as anyone could ever love someone. No one could ever love Suho more than Jongin does. Jongin cares for Suho. Suho loves Jongin. Kris just pays for things. Kris is a manipulator. Kris only loves himself. Kris doesn't love Suho. Kris isn't capable of love. Suho loves Jongin. Suho loves Jongin. Suho loves Jongin.
//
"You're a fool," Jongin yells, slamming his hand against the wall beside Suho's head.
"Fuck off," Suho yells back, eyes blazing.
They've both had too much to drink. They should have gone to bed.
"I hate you," Jongin lies. "I hate the day you ever came into the day."
Suho laughs, all blood, guts, and shards of glass. "The day I walked into your life? Please, you sneaked into my club."
"Don't you mean Kris' club? Isn't he buying it from your father? The way he bought you?"
Jongin isn't surprised when Suho's hand collides against his cheek, but he is surprised when his untrimmed nail catches onto the tender flesh beneath his eye. The yell he lets out is nothing short from raw, like the pain that surges up his face.
"Jongin-" Suho gasps. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
Jongin deflates. All his anger rushing out in the blood on his cut. "It's not like you haven't hurt me worse."
Hands come to pull Jongin closer. Trembling lips land on his own fragile ones and he sighs into Suho's mouth, wondering why they do anything other than love each other during the moments they're together.
"I'm sorry I keep hurting you," Suho whispers.
Jongin decides to use the bit of courage he has left. He usually keeps it hidden for when he has to walk home, in case anyone tries to assault him, but the assault Suho constantly rages on his heart requires more courage than Jongin can muster. "Please don't go," he says, lips still on Suho's hot flesh. "Don't leave tomorrow morning. Just stay. Just this once."
Suho's hands grip his shoulders and he wraps his legs around Jongin, clinging to him in silence but yelling with his body for Jongin to take him to bed. That's exactly what Jongin does. He lays him down, cares for his body the way he knows only he can, and loves Suho, absolutely and completely. Suho gives him everything, but Jongin still wants more. He craves what can't be talked about, needs the bits no one else can see. He wants Suho to stop giving himself to Kris. He wants Suho to want Jongin to be enough for him. Jongin keeps losing, but he wants Suho to make him feel like a winner. He wants and wants and wants and gives and gives and gives and Suho takes and takes and takes. Their breaths mingle and tangle, bodies rub and bruise. Jongin pulls. Suho grips. The bed creaks as Suho starts crying, threatens to break apart under their weight when Jongin dances his tears away. Intertwined hands make Jongin feel like he's holding Suho's heart in his hands, so he presses his other palm to Suho's chest so that he's full of Suho. Of him and nothing else. Hours pass before Jongin notices it's light outside. They don't sleep a wink, but rather hold each other, slowly letting the night consume them until it's time to make a choice.
Jongin isn't expecting much from Suho. He has stopped expecting anything from him for a while. Jongin thinks having low expectations will somehow help soften the blow. He's about to push Suho out of the bed, hating how he's dragging it out, when Suho turns around and allows Jongin to cover him with his body.
Jongin pretends his eyes don't water and his lips don't tremble and that he's not the happiest he's ever been. He pretends he doesn't feel his heart burst with joy. He pretends he doesn't hear Suho mumble that he loves him. He pretends because it's easier to pretend than to think about how tomorrow Jongin will be back in hell, sharing the bed with his miserable thoughts and only the traces of Suho's existence in his life.
//
Thick ribbons of warmth wrap around Jongin's shoulders. Suho's smile shines bright and brilliant.
"Jongin, do you love me?"
Jongin kisses him.
"Will you always love me?"
Jongin kisses him.
"Will you even love me when I'm old?"
Jongin kisses him.
"When I'm ugly and wrinkly?"
Jongin kisses him.
"Would you love me even if I could never love you back?"
Jongin kisses him.
"Will you love me even if I can never love you the way you deserve?"
Jongin kisses him until his lips chap and bleed all over Suho's immaculate carpet.
//
"Jongin, will you dance for me?"
The request isn't odd, it's just that Suho doesn't usually ask when Kris is in the audience. Come to think of it, Suho doesn't ask when anyone is in the audience. It is usually just them, alone after-hours, sharing a bottle of wine. Suho sings at the piano. Jongin dances across the entire stage, practically floating on the sound of Suho's voice. Sometimes they'll share a dance to the music in their entwined hearts. Sometimes Suho will cry because Jongin's heart is breaking. Sometimes Jongin's shoulders will shake but he won't tell Suho what they're shaking for.
"Are you sure?" he asks, but everything in Suho's stare tells him he's never been more sure of anything.
It's the last song of his set. The music starts off slow, allowing Jongin to carefully sink into the beat, dipping his feet into the melody before plunging in neck deep. He doesn't allow himself to look up until the last minute, right before the song ends, when he's turning and turning to the crescendo of the cymbals. Kris' stare feels like two daggers plunging into Jongin's chest, twisting and digging, lodging in his ribs, cutting off the arteries to his heart. Every time he turns, his eyes land on Kris, and it's as if Kris is killing him slowly, crushing his legs, weighing them down until he collapses. Thankfully the song ends at the same time as Jongin hits the floor, so the crowd erupts in applause instead of gasps. Suho is there to pick him up, carry him off the stage, and hold him flush against his body. Jongin would hug him back if he could feel anything at all.
"I love you," Suho whispers fiercely. "I love you so much. Never ever forget that."
Jongin doesn't know how he ever could. He's never held on so tightly to someone the way he's holding on to Suho. He isn't surprised when Kris appears behind the curtain, eyes poised on Suho like Jongin doesn't exist.
"Are we going now?" he asks, but nothing out of his mouth sounds like a question. It's a demand.
Suho lets go of Jongin and it feels like he has been flung into the abyss, nothing to hold onto, just his own ragged body.
//
Jongin would do anything for Suho.
So when Suho comes to Jongin's apartment at 3 in the morning, begging him to go back to his apartment with him, Jongin says yes. When Suho shows Jongin Kris' limp, dead body, he agrees to stay with him. When Suho begs and pleads and cries and sobs for Jongin to help him, he does.
"Everything will be okay," Jongin tells him, rubbing slow circles into his back.
"How will it be okay?" Suho asks, shaking from head to toe. "I killed him, Jongin. He's dead."
Jongin bites his tongue to stop from smiling. He's never been so glad to see a dead body. The first time he saw one, it was near the subway. A girl had killed herself by overdosing and then someone threw her on the steps. Everyone had gathered to stare at her bug eyes and slack jaw.
"How did it happen?" Jongin asks, taking his eyes off Kris and his cracked open skull.
"He was angry about you. He's been angry about us ever since he found out but he had let it go so far, but he was furious I invited you to dance with me. He thought I was going to make you famous too and leave him. He's never loved me like you do. He just wanted to own me," Suho's shoulders shake with each unsteady breath he takes. "He hit me. He punched me right across the face and then he went to get the knife from the kitchen. He said- he said he was going to carve his name into my skin so I wouldn't forget who I belonged to."
Jongin's entire body shook. If Kris had scarred Suho's perfect skin, Jongin would have killed him himself.
"So I picked up the ash tray and hit him against the head. I'd thought I'd knock him out so I could run away but it just- I heard the crack and I knew I'd killed him."
Jongin hugs him while he sobs. He holds him and soothes him. He tells him he loves him, he'll always love him. He tells him he's going to take care of him the way only he can. He tells Suho he's going to live a long happy life. He tells him he's never going to see the inside of a jail cell.
"What- what do you mean?" Suho asks, and he can't stop shaking. He can't even focus on one thing. His eyes keep darting to Kris, dead on the floor, and then at Jongin.
"I want you to toss this into the river," Jongin says, picking up the ash tray. "Then call the police-"
"What? What are you talking about. I'm not going to confess. My entire career is going to-"
"And tell them I did it," Jongin says calmly.
Suho's eyes water and he grips Jongin's shirt. "Kim Jongin, don't you dare do this. I'm not going to let you. Maybe- maybe if I tell them he hit me. Maybe if it was self defense. Maybe-"
"Maybe if you let me take the fall for this you can have a great, successful career."
"What about you?" Suho's voice breaks. "What about your career? What about your life?"
"I don't have one and I probably never will. You're amazing and the world deserves to hear you sing."
Suho molds into Jongin's body. "The world deserves to see you dance," he whispers, gripping his t-shirt.
"Maybe. But I'm not letting you go to jail. I killed him. I'll tell them that. I'll get out soon."
They stare at each other for while, realizing this is how it has to happen. It's their fate. Jongin would do anything for Suho.
Suho/Kai, Suho/Kris
R
Warnings (highlight to see): character death
Angst/Romance
A/N: This was a prompt made at exopromtmeme. I hope I did it justice! Also I used this playlist to write the fic so maybe you might want to listen along to it as you read?
Summary: Being as in love with you as I am, you make me feel like I've been locked out of heaven for too long.
Prologue
Jongin looks down at his blood covered hands. He can't believe that just a few months ago he was floating above everything and everyone, absolutely soaring from how happy and in love he was. Nothing could bring him down from the cloud he was on. Now, it seems impossible that anything can hurt this much. But it does. The feeling, so indescribable, leaves Jongin breathless. Having a police officer asking him to describe it is absolute torture. More torturous than wondering how he's going to get this blood off his hands and clothes, but more than that; how will he ever get it off his mind? How will he ever get the memories and nightmares to stop haunting him?
"Sir, can you tell us what happened?"
Jongin opens his mouth, eyes poised on the dark red stain on the otherwise immaculate rug, and lies.
//
New York City is a place where you either fly higher than the stars, or hit the pavement before you even have a chance to spread your wings and try. When Jongin first came to the city, he had all the dreams of a fresh eyed star catcher, but somehow he ended up with his hands full of the burnt ashes of his ambitions. He has had to pack his dreams in a suitcase underneath his bed, and forget about them to survive. It's hard to come by a good break, let alone food, when you're an amazing dancer among a sea of amazing dancers. Even the one's who study at the best academies and come from money end up just as poor and starving as Jongin. It's a dog eat dog world and Jongin has been bitten too many times. He's a carcass at this point, not leaving for the sole fact that his pride wouldn't be able to stand the humiliation. Not like he'd have anywhere to go anyway, seeing as his parents threw him out when he professed his love for endless goals and sleepless nights on the streets. When he does perform, however, those moments so scarce and fleeting, are the air he breaths and his meals when he can't stomach the hunger. He feels weightless, and not a single worry clouds his mind when his soul is flying through his body. Sometimes the sacrifice is worth it, the rejection, the constant reminder that he's not as good as he believes himself to be. Aside from performing, there's only one thing that brings him such happiness. Well, make that one person.
Five blocks from the apartment Jongin shares with 10 other fame hungry, lost souls, is the most famous club in town. In that club sings the most beautiful man in the world, and not just according to Jongin.
Suho, bright eyed and wonderful, who got discovered at the age of 16, and has been lighting the stage of lonely people's hearts ever since. After living on the West for the past few years, he's now taken residence in his native New York, singing every night at his father's club. Jongin couldn't be happier that he chose this moment to live in New York. Jongin used to sneak into the club every Friday night just to hear Suho sing, until the manager caught him and gave him an ultimatum. He could either start paying for admittance, which would be impossible on a starving artists non-salary, or start working as a bus boy. He of course couldn't go on without the pleasure of hearing Suho sing; Suho's voice made Jongin's soul dance in a way nothing else could. The cash was definitely welcome, so he started cleaning the club at night. It meant he could sit backstage, listening to Suho's set, and then end the night dancing around the stage to the lingering melodies clinging to the curtains.
//
One night, Suho hangs back by the bar. Jongin is trying to clean the remaining bottles and napkins, but even Suho's humming is beautiful, so he just wants to waltz between the tables, maybe ask him for a dance.
"I think I'm gonna head home, Suho," the bartender says, taking off his apron. It's been a long day for both of them. Suho sang 4 encores, so the bartender had to keep pouring drink after drink for the ungrateful wealthy men and women.
"Sure thing, Tao, go ahead. Thanks for hanging back. Keep the bar open though, I'll give you the key tomorrow."
Tao smiles as he leaves. Suho waves goodbye at him. Jongin can't believe they're alone.
Slow seconds pass. Suho's humming quiets to a soft whisper until he looks around, noticing he isn't alone. A shiver creeps up Jongin's back when Suho turns sleepy eyes on him.
He sizes him up, allowing his eyes to wander over Jongin slowly. He looks up at his face and smiles, warm and friendly. "What's your name, kid?"
"Jongin," he says.
Suho looks around the mostly empty tables and then back at Jongin. "Do you want some help?"
"No, I'm fine, thanks."
"Then do you want to come over here and have a drink? Cleaning after all those rich snobs must be pretty annoying, huh? Well, come to think of it, I'm one of those rich snobs, I guess, but I always make sure to throw away my own crap." He hiccups, smile wavering slightly. Jongin wonders how many drinks he has had already. "Do you want to share a drink or not? I think you're going to have to drive me home too."
Jongin feels frozen to the spot. Not only is he talking to Suho, he might even get to drive him home. At Suho's expectant face, he walks to the bar nervously, hoping the sandwich he had for lunch will stay down long enough to get him through this conversation. He sits down on the bar stool next to Suho and swallows his nerves.
"So what's your story, Jongin?" Suho stares at him, eyes momentarily losing focus as he sways from side to side.
Jongin stares at him, having a hard time believing he's so close to his thin hands and pale face. "Story? What do you mean?"
"Your story, what are you all about? Everyone's got a story."
"Uhm, well I want to be a dancer."
"A dancer? Well, you've sure got the physique," Suho winks at him. "So did you move here to hit it big?"
Jongin shifts in his seat, taking the glass Suho offers him. "Not exactly," he downs the drink, "I just want the opportunity to show people what I can do."
Suho stares at him, eyes gleaming a little. "You sound just like me when I was your age-wait, how old are you?"
"Nineteen."
"Well I was fifteen when I wanted to be a big star," his smile turns sour. "Little did I know I'd get more than I bargained for."
Jongin doesn't know if he should pry. Suho can't be having a good day. Jongin has never seen him stay back to drink from the bar. He probably has a bigger bar in his apartment, with a better selection of alcohol no doubt. There would be no reason for him to hang back.
"Would you ever sell something you love to someone who doesn't deserve it?" Suho asks suddenly, looking at the half-empty liquor bottle. His eyes narrow at it accusingly, looking angrier than Jongin's ever seen him. Then he sighs, features softening one by one until he just looks numb again.
When Jongin's about to ask him what he means, Suho shakes his head so he guesses he doesn't really want an answer.
"I'm ready to go home," Suho says suddenly, straightening his back. "Can you drive me? It's pretty late so you'll probably have to stay over."
Jongin's throat closes like a paper fan snapping shut. He wonders how many men Suho has gotten into his bed by batting his pretty eyelashes and casually inviting them to his lavish apartment. Jongin momentarily feels sick, thinking of the implication that Suho probably only sees him as a fuck and nothing more. An easy conquest just because he's there.
Suho's feet wobble as he stands up, but Jongin is quick to help steady him.
"You're nice," Suho tells him, hand crawling up to grip his arm. "I don't meet many nice boys in my line of work."
Jongin smiles to distract himself, and Suho smiles back. He rattles on about liking Jongin's shirt as they walk to his car, but as soon his head hits the headrest, he's out like a light. Jongin can't find it in himself to wake him up, for whatever reason he was trying to get drunk in the first place. Jongin doesn't want to disturb his peace, so he drives to his apartment instead of Suho's. He leaves the car two blocks away, so that it doesn't attract attention or get stolen, and he carries Suho up the stairs. He's surprisingly light, and Jongin can't help but think he fits nicely in his arms.
Sehun opens the door when Jongin whistles their secret password. His eyes widen when he sees Jongin carrying Suho.
"Where'd you pick this one from?"
"He's Suho from the bar," Jongin tells him, stepping inside with the now blissfully snoring singer in his arms. "Can you let us have the big room?"
Sehun frowns. "We don't want to hear you two having sex."
Jongin rolls his eyes at him. "He's asleep, I don't think that will be a problem. Just tell the others to gather in the living room or something. I don't want him to wake up with ten dirty people on top of him."
Sehun sighs and shrugs. "Fine, but you're getting pizza next week." He leaves to get the others into the living room.
Suho stirs in Jongin's arms, but thankfully yawns and snuggles further into his embrace. Jongin watches his eyelashes flutter momentarily, then still like a butterfly's wings resting in between flight. His hair sticks to his forehead from the perspiration, and his eyes are smudged where his eyeliner ran a little, but he still looks mesmerizing to Jongin. He wonders what it would feel like to touch that perfect skin, but Jongin knows this is probably the closest he'll ever be to him. Sehun comes out a moment later to tell them the room is ready.
Jongin sets Suho down softly on the bed and takes off his shoes. He looks at him for a second, as he blindly reaches for the pillow and hugs it to his body, and then turns off the light and goes outside. Sehun narrows his eyes at Jongin when he lies down beside him, but otherwise doesn't protest.
Before Suho wakes up the next morning, Jongin makes him pancakes with the few ingredients they have. Suho is silent during breakfast, smiling politely at the incessant chatter around him. It's so strange to see Suho in this ambience, surrounded by grim and dirt. He looks tired, but somehow he manages to seem interested when Sehun talks about his next audition or Yixing goes off about his latest adventure with tourists in Time's Square.
When Jongin walks him back to his car, Suho grasps his arm and frowns at him. "So that's your story then?" he asks. "It's not very pretty."
Jongin shrugs. "I guess, but it's the best I can do for now."
Suho bites his lip, looking very unfamiliar to Jongin, who's only ever seen him as the confident singer on stage, and only vulnerable while sleeping as of recently. However his face now, a mix of uncertainty and nervousness, is very uncharacteristic of Suho. He looks at Jongin and smiles softly. "Would you mind if I filled up a few chapters?"
"Of what?" Jongin asks, completely oblivious to everything other than Suho's smile. He even finds it hard to stare at him too long, because even though he's in last night's clothes, in desperate need of a shower, and a little sad looking, Jongin would still willingly do anything Suho aks of him.
"Of your story. I bet I could make it a little happier. You know, I've had my eye on you for a while now," Suho tells him, leaning in like he's relaying a great secret. "I saw you dancing a few weeks ago in the storage room. You thought no one could see you, but I did. I was completely mesmerized. I had no idea the human body could move the way you do. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Suho smiles and then looks over his shoulder at his car, casually masking his previous confession. "I should probably go now. My manager is going to flip out if I don't call him first thing in the morning. You think about it." And just like that he reaches forward and plants a kiss on Jongin's stunned lips. Suho walks away, positively rooting Jongin in place. Once he finally can move again, Jongin isn't the least bit surprised when his feet walk him towards the bridge he always dances under. He lets his heart soar because his body can't, but Suho makes him feel like he could.
//
Suho's face is the first thing Jongin sees when he gets to work. Suho stands by the back entrance, and he somehow manages to make even the grimy alley look nicer because of his presence.
"So, how was your weekend?"
Jongin looks at him.
"Okay, that's not what I wanted to know. I actually wanted to know if you'd want to have dinner with me...as a thank you for taking care of me on Friday." He presses his hand to his heart. "I really appreciate you not taking advantage of me in my ridiculously drunken state."
Jongin's hands come up to wrap around his shoulders. The weather is getting colder now. He wonders how long Suho waited for him. "Of course, I mean, I'd be honored to have dinner with you."
Suho smiles, brilliantly humble and handsome. "You're very sweet. It'll be a low-key affair, just you and me at my apartment."
Jongin has never been happier to hear the words low-key in his life. "I'm looking forward to it."
"I'll wait for you once your shift is done."
During Suho's set, Jongin's chest swells as he hears Suho sing about lost love and rekindled love and new love, and never had those songs made so much sense until that moment.
//
The first thing Jongin notices when he walks into Suho's apartment is that blue and gold seem to be the only colors he buys things in. Blue sofa. Golden designs on the arm rest. Blue coffee mug. Gold curtains. When Jongin mentions this to Suho, he says, "it's royal blue."
"What?" Jongin asks.
Suho smiles, holding Jongin's chair out for him. "It's royal blue, not just blue. They're different colors."
Jongin shrugs. "For poor people it's all blue." He's surprised when Suho laughs, a different laugh than when patrons cat call to him on stage.
"Well I hope this meal isn't blue," Suho says, bringing in the plates from the kitchen. "I actually put some effort into making it."
"You made this?" Jongin asks, already salivating over the smell of fresh food.
"Of course, what did you think? I'd get take out on our first date?" Suho asks, arching an eyebrow at Jongin.
"Date?"
Suho nods. "Isn't this a date?"
"I- well, I don't-" Jongin feels like the biggest idiot, and he must sound like it too. The way Suho stares at him makes him wish the ground would swallow him up, but then that breathtaking smile is back and, ironically, Jongin can breathe again. "It's fine," Suho says, "I didn't expect you to know it was a date. Just relax. I'm probably just as nervous as you are. I haven't had an actual date in a while."
Jongin eases into the meal effortlessly after that. There's something about knowing the person you're trying to impress is also trying to impress you that makes him less nervous. Suho is a perfect date. He tilts his head to show his interest in what Jongin has to say. Grips his sides when Jongin makes him laugh so hard he cries. For the length of the meal, Jongin doesn't feel like he's talking to Suho the singer, he's talking to Suho the person. Suho's so easy to be with, it amazes Jongin he was ever afraid of being alone with him.
"Are you ready for dessert?" Suho asks, mischievous smile playing on his lips.
"Dessert?" Jongin smiles. "Sure, what is it?"
Suho bites his lip, smile threatening to outshine the sun. "Follow me."
Jongin is so mesmerized by the way Suho's hand feels in his that he doesn't notice Suho leading him into his bedroom. He doesn't notice the lights dim or the way Suho's staring at him. It isn't until Suho kisses him that Jongin realizes he is the dessert.
//
As time goes on, Jongin realizes he's not the only man in Suho's life. He slowly starts to see the bits that are missing, the parts someone else has taken away and claimed as theirs. Suho isn't exactly broken, but he's not completely whole either. There are things he can't do with Jongin, like stay in the morning to have breakfast, or hang out on weekends. The other man in Suho's life takes up a lot of his time, far too much for Jongin's liking. For months, Jongin doesn't even want to know who it is, but eventually the clues start to string together, making it clear who owns the part of Suho's life he doesn't spend with Jongin.
Jongin tries to pretend for as long as he can until he can't stand it anymore. The thought of someone else touching Suho makes him sick to his stomach. What feels worse is knowing that he's the other man, not the other way around.
//
Jongin's hands curve around the empty beer bottle before he tosses it in the trash. A familiar warmth creeps up the side of his neck as lips press there and he freezes, stunned at the touch, especially in public.
"What are you doing?" Jongin asks Suho.
"I wanted to say hello before my set," Suho whispers back. "Didn't you miss me this week?"
"Of course I didn't." Jongin turns around, ignoring the dirty looks from servers and bartenders around them, all jealous that he gets Suho's affections and they don't.
"Of course you didn't," Suho smiles, "How silly of me to think you had missed me while I was gone. Sure, alright."
Jongin's glare wains and he matches Suho's glowing smile. "Okay, maybe I missed you a little bit."
"Maybe?" Suho cocks an eyebrow. "That's not too reassuring."
Jongin's throat closes up when he notices a deep purple mark on Suho's neck. He has to hold himself back from reaching out to touch it, cover it, get it off his skin. "What's this?"
Suho lifts his fingers up to the spot Jongin is staring holes into and frowns. "Jongin, don't do this."
"Was that Kris? Was he on your trip with you?"
Suho bites his lip. He looks away, ashamed like he should be because he's tearing Jongin's heart to shreds and he knows it. "Just ignore it."
Jongin wants to ignore it, so badly, more than anything, but it's too late now. That mark is going to haunt him when he's alone. When he's not with Suho, all he'll be able to think about is Kris' hands on him.
"I gotta go up and practice, okay?" Suho's smile is fleeting. Jongin wishes he could keep it in his heart. Where no one can hurt it or manipulate it. "I'll come find you after I'm done."
Jongin nods, feeling his heart shatter in his chest when Suho leaves, taking his smile and warmth with him.
//
Suho's apartment is too big for one person, he says. He likes the company. He loves when Jongin fills up the space with his big movements around the sitting area. They push the furniture out of the way, and Jongin lets Suho bump into him when he's had some wine. Suho likes when Jongin's there, he says. But for some reason, Suho always ends up waking up before Jongin, and leaving him alone in his big bed in his big apartment to go see Kris. Suho loves Jongin, he says, but then why does Jongin feel hollow every morning? Why does Jongin know that in between his kisses, Kris also has ownership of Suho's lips? Why does bile threaten to rise each time he hears Suho take a call from Kris or mention anything about him? Jongin knows this is no way to live. It's not normal to love someone who already belongs to someone else.
In the deepest part of Jongin's mind, he knows Suho doesn't want to hurt him. He knows it by the way he looks at him, all apologetic and repentant. Sometimes that's enough to ease Jongin's suffering. As long as Suho knows he's hurting, that's enough for him. But some times, most times, it's not enough. It's a nightmare. If Suho knows, why can't he stop? Why can't Suho stop hurting him?
//
On paper, Kris is Joonmyun's manager. In reality, he pays for his apartment, buys him fancy dinners at expensive restaurants, and takes him on trips around the world. Without Kris, Suho wouldn't be where he is today. Without Kris, Suho would probably be where Kai is, struggling to find the ends in the first place to make them meet. Kris likes to remind Suho that his success is completely his doing.
One afternoon, Jongin is in Suho's apartment, practicing for an audition he has that Saturday. Suho is by the grand piano, doing warm ups before his gig the next day. He's really quite an inspiration to Jongin, who would be happy with merely an ounce of Suho's fame. Jongin could argue that Suho's dedication is what got him to the top, and that Kris was the one who got lucky to find him when he did.
"Jongin, would you mind grabbing me a water?" Suho calls out, not seizing his hand motions over the keys.
Jongin stares at him, amused. "I didn't know I'd become your water boy."
Suho ducks his head, shy and embarrassed. "Sorry, I guess I'm just used to-" He stops mid-sentence, looking back at the music sheet. "Never mind, I'll get it myself."
"Used to Kris doing everything for you?" Kai asks, not being able to bite his tongue on time.
Suho's eyes grow cold. "Don't be so jealous."
"Oh right sorry, it's normal for me to share you with someone else. I forgot, my bad."
A terribly frightening silence settles between them. Jongin doesn't want to apologize, but he knows he's being unfair. That is what they are to each other, unfair and sadly too afraid to admit when they are wrong. At this point, Jongin isn't sure who's wrong or right anymore. He just wants it to be simpler. He wants Suho to be his. He wants to be able to kiss him languidly in the morning, not in a rush as he goes to spend the morning with Kris. Does Suho know Jongin can't sleep when they are apart? Does Suho know that the last time Jongin saw another mark he hadn't made on his skin, he'd thrown up as soon as he'd left? The thought of Kris' hands on the same skin he touches makes his stomach turn.
"Can we go to bed now?" Suho asks, voice tired. He looks up at Jongin and pleads, begs him to let it go.
Jongin still has so much more to say, but he shuts his mouth and follows Suho to his bedroom.
//
"Joonmyun, what do you want most in the world?"
Suho's hands grip Jongin's sides, thumbs press just bellow his ribs. Eyes ridden with sleep and hair tousled in all directions, he smiles. "Uhmm? Maybe to be the most loved singer in the world."
Jongin smiles, turning his head to laugh into the pillow.
"Why? What do you want? To be the best dancer? To get signed with the best ballet company? Come on, what does Kim Jongin want most in the world?"
"Why are you asking? You know it's you."
Suho's hands still, smile fades. "Jongin-you know I-"
"I know," Jongin tries to reassure him softly. "I know you love me."
"I really do," Suho whispers. "I just, I can't-"
"I know," Jongin smooths back his hair. "I know you can't give me everything I want."
"You don't even ask for much," Suho sighs, burying his face in Jongin's chest. "You just want me to yourself and I can't even give you that much."
"Having you now is enough," Jongin says. Every bone and tissue in Jongin's body makes him wish he could believe that.
//
Jongin feels like a joke. Each time he finds another mark on Suho's skin, his entire world crumbles. He's on a roller-coaster created on his own turbulent emotions. He hates not knowing where Suho goes, not even being able to ask. Sometimes he thinks he can't be asking too much. To want to be the starring role of someone's heart, the person you love no less, can't be too big of a demand. Jongin doesn't want Suho's appendix, or his liver or even his kidneys. He just wants his heart.
He tries to reassure himself in the early hours of the day. Suho doesn't love Kris. He never has and never will. Suho only loves him. Always has and always will. Jongin isn't a replacement. Suho doesn't just want Jongin for sex. Suho loves Jongin, as much as anyone could ever love someone. No one could ever love Suho more than Jongin does. Jongin cares for Suho. Suho loves Jongin. Kris just pays for things. Kris is a manipulator. Kris only loves himself. Kris doesn't love Suho. Kris isn't capable of love. Suho loves Jongin. Suho loves Jongin. Suho loves Jongin.
//
"You're a fool," Jongin yells, slamming his hand against the wall beside Suho's head.
"Fuck off," Suho yells back, eyes blazing.
They've both had too much to drink. They should have gone to bed.
"I hate you," Jongin lies. "I hate the day you ever came into the day."
Suho laughs, all blood, guts, and shards of glass. "The day I walked into your life? Please, you sneaked into my club."
"Don't you mean Kris' club? Isn't he buying it from your father? The way he bought you?"
Jongin isn't surprised when Suho's hand collides against his cheek, but he is surprised when his untrimmed nail catches onto the tender flesh beneath his eye. The yell he lets out is nothing short from raw, like the pain that surges up his face.
"Jongin-" Suho gasps. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
Jongin deflates. All his anger rushing out in the blood on his cut. "It's not like you haven't hurt me worse."
Hands come to pull Jongin closer. Trembling lips land on his own fragile ones and he sighs into Suho's mouth, wondering why they do anything other than love each other during the moments they're together.
"I'm sorry I keep hurting you," Suho whispers.
Jongin decides to use the bit of courage he has left. He usually keeps it hidden for when he has to walk home, in case anyone tries to assault him, but the assault Suho constantly rages on his heart requires more courage than Jongin can muster. "Please don't go," he says, lips still on Suho's hot flesh. "Don't leave tomorrow morning. Just stay. Just this once."
Suho's hands grip his shoulders and he wraps his legs around Jongin, clinging to him in silence but yelling with his body for Jongin to take him to bed. That's exactly what Jongin does. He lays him down, cares for his body the way he knows only he can, and loves Suho, absolutely and completely. Suho gives him everything, but Jongin still wants more. He craves what can't be talked about, needs the bits no one else can see. He wants Suho to stop giving himself to Kris. He wants Suho to want Jongin to be enough for him. Jongin keeps losing, but he wants Suho to make him feel like a winner. He wants and wants and wants and gives and gives and gives and Suho takes and takes and takes. Their breaths mingle and tangle, bodies rub and bruise. Jongin pulls. Suho grips. The bed creaks as Suho starts crying, threatens to break apart under their weight when Jongin dances his tears away. Intertwined hands make Jongin feel like he's holding Suho's heart in his hands, so he presses his other palm to Suho's chest so that he's full of Suho. Of him and nothing else. Hours pass before Jongin notices it's light outside. They don't sleep a wink, but rather hold each other, slowly letting the night consume them until it's time to make a choice.
Jongin isn't expecting much from Suho. He has stopped expecting anything from him for a while. Jongin thinks having low expectations will somehow help soften the blow. He's about to push Suho out of the bed, hating how he's dragging it out, when Suho turns around and allows Jongin to cover him with his body.
Jongin pretends his eyes don't water and his lips don't tremble and that he's not the happiest he's ever been. He pretends he doesn't feel his heart burst with joy. He pretends he doesn't hear Suho mumble that he loves him. He pretends because it's easier to pretend than to think about how tomorrow Jongin will be back in hell, sharing the bed with his miserable thoughts and only the traces of Suho's existence in his life.
//
Thick ribbons of warmth wrap around Jongin's shoulders. Suho's smile shines bright and brilliant.
"Jongin, do you love me?"
Jongin kisses him.
"Will you always love me?"
Jongin kisses him.
"Will you even love me when I'm old?"
Jongin kisses him.
"When I'm ugly and wrinkly?"
Jongin kisses him.
"Would you love me even if I could never love you back?"
Jongin kisses him.
"Will you love me even if I can never love you the way you deserve?"
Jongin kisses him until his lips chap and bleed all over Suho's immaculate carpet.
//
"Jongin, will you dance for me?"
The request isn't odd, it's just that Suho doesn't usually ask when Kris is in the audience. Come to think of it, Suho doesn't ask when anyone is in the audience. It is usually just them, alone after-hours, sharing a bottle of wine. Suho sings at the piano. Jongin dances across the entire stage, practically floating on the sound of Suho's voice. Sometimes they'll share a dance to the music in their entwined hearts. Sometimes Suho will cry because Jongin's heart is breaking. Sometimes Jongin's shoulders will shake but he won't tell Suho what they're shaking for.
"Are you sure?" he asks, but everything in Suho's stare tells him he's never been more sure of anything.
It's the last song of his set. The music starts off slow, allowing Jongin to carefully sink into the beat, dipping his feet into the melody before plunging in neck deep. He doesn't allow himself to look up until the last minute, right before the song ends, when he's turning and turning to the crescendo of the cymbals. Kris' stare feels like two daggers plunging into Jongin's chest, twisting and digging, lodging in his ribs, cutting off the arteries to his heart. Every time he turns, his eyes land on Kris, and it's as if Kris is killing him slowly, crushing his legs, weighing them down until he collapses. Thankfully the song ends at the same time as Jongin hits the floor, so the crowd erupts in applause instead of gasps. Suho is there to pick him up, carry him off the stage, and hold him flush against his body. Jongin would hug him back if he could feel anything at all.
"I love you," Suho whispers fiercely. "I love you so much. Never ever forget that."
Jongin doesn't know how he ever could. He's never held on so tightly to someone the way he's holding on to Suho. He isn't surprised when Kris appears behind the curtain, eyes poised on Suho like Jongin doesn't exist.
"Are we going now?" he asks, but nothing out of his mouth sounds like a question. It's a demand.
Suho lets go of Jongin and it feels like he has been flung into the abyss, nothing to hold onto, just his own ragged body.
//
Jongin would do anything for Suho.
So when Suho comes to Jongin's apartment at 3 in the morning, begging him to go back to his apartment with him, Jongin says yes. When Suho shows Jongin Kris' limp, dead body, he agrees to stay with him. When Suho begs and pleads and cries and sobs for Jongin to help him, he does.
"Everything will be okay," Jongin tells him, rubbing slow circles into his back.
"How will it be okay?" Suho asks, shaking from head to toe. "I killed him, Jongin. He's dead."
Jongin bites his tongue to stop from smiling. He's never been so glad to see a dead body. The first time he saw one, it was near the subway. A girl had killed herself by overdosing and then someone threw her on the steps. Everyone had gathered to stare at her bug eyes and slack jaw.
"How did it happen?" Jongin asks, taking his eyes off Kris and his cracked open skull.
"He was angry about you. He's been angry about us ever since he found out but he had let it go so far, but he was furious I invited you to dance with me. He thought I was going to make you famous too and leave him. He's never loved me like you do. He just wanted to own me," Suho's shoulders shake with each unsteady breath he takes. "He hit me. He punched me right across the face and then he went to get the knife from the kitchen. He said- he said he was going to carve his name into my skin so I wouldn't forget who I belonged to."
Jongin's entire body shook. If Kris had scarred Suho's perfect skin, Jongin would have killed him himself.
"So I picked up the ash tray and hit him against the head. I'd thought I'd knock him out so I could run away but it just- I heard the crack and I knew I'd killed him."
Jongin hugs him while he sobs. He holds him and soothes him. He tells him he loves him, he'll always love him. He tells him he's going to take care of him the way only he can. He tells Suho he's going to live a long happy life. He tells him he's never going to see the inside of a jail cell.
"What- what do you mean?" Suho asks, and he can't stop shaking. He can't even focus on one thing. His eyes keep darting to Kris, dead on the floor, and then at Jongin.
"I want you to toss this into the river," Jongin says, picking up the ash tray. "Then call the police-"
"What? What are you talking about. I'm not going to confess. My entire career is going to-"
"And tell them I did it," Jongin says calmly.
Suho's eyes water and he grips Jongin's shirt. "Kim Jongin, don't you dare do this. I'm not going to let you. Maybe- maybe if I tell them he hit me. Maybe if it was self defense. Maybe-"
"Maybe if you let me take the fall for this you can have a great, successful career."
"What about you?" Suho's voice breaks. "What about your career? What about your life?"
"I don't have one and I probably never will. You're amazing and the world deserves to hear you sing."
Suho molds into Jongin's body. "The world deserves to see you dance," he whispers, gripping his t-shirt.
"Maybe. But I'm not letting you go to jail. I killed him. I'll tell them that. I'll get out soon."
They stare at each other for while, realizing this is how it has to happen. It's their fate. Jongin would do anything for Suho.