{ 2/3 } Pain
Title: Pain [2/3]
Fandom: Big Bang
Pairing: GRi, GTOP
Genre: AU, Slash
Rating: Hard R.
Summary: This life is filled with hurt where happiness doesn't work.
Warnings: Sex, violence, adultery, abuse. It's hardcore, really. 14 years old who don't care about NC-17 warning, GTFO okay?
A/N: This fic exists thanks to popular request, too much Three Days Grace and this. Feeding you this because I'm not done yet... .__.
Jiyong arrived in the brothel's hotel-like lobby too early. He was sitting on a chair and smoking a vanilla flavored cigarette from the pack that one of his workmates had handed to him after he and her had some 'practice time' together. Time always passed slowly, even on luxury watches like the one he owned since not too long ago.
The bastard actor who was to be here tonight was late, Jiyong assumed that he was fucking his fiancee before coming to him again... He could forget about a blowjob, Jiyong had no intention if tasting cunt on someone's dick. He would definitely knee Seungri in the balls the second he walked into the lobby... Unless he was already here. He vaguely wondered why the guy even bothered with the woman anymore if he did not even love her or felt the least of attraction for her... That was both none of his business and irrelevant to his interest.
"Ey, douchebag." He called to the guy behind the counter and blew a cloud of fragrant smoke out as he spoke.
"The name is Jonghwan." Replied the clerk, not even looking up from the desk bell he was shining.
"Whatever. Sounds the same." The blond man said, not giving a damn in the world about what that guy's name was. "My customer here yet?"
The man behind the desk sighed and looked at a screen that was in front of him, "Your appointment in room 49 is already here."
"He is?" Jiyong stood up. "Room 49. Fuck, what? I never work in that."
"Apparently, you do. I'm never wrong." The other replied. "Please hurry before I get flamed for it."
'Work, serve, job, firing." The blond man sashayed his way to the desk, laughing. "You need to get laid, douche."
"As if I needed a whore throwing me on a bed and smacking me up like you do to your client."
"Some smacking around won't kill you," Jiyong said, stubbing his cigarette out on the expensive desk's glass surface with a grin. "Be a doll and get rid of that, okay?"
The thrown cigarette butt just bumped against Jonghwan's forehead as Jiyong left. The clerk cursed that damn prostitute for being mentally unstable and a potential threat to his job and life.
Walking down the dark hallways and flights of stairs and greeting a few whores walking around, Jiyong tried to remember what was in room 49 and how he could possibly use it against Seunghyun and to his own advantage. He had good imagination so he could be able to pull it off once inside the room anyways. He rubbed his eyes a little before turning the knob to what he guessed was room 49. The lights were off and he was not so good at trying to read Braille on the doors' signs. He entered the room and looked around, finding the place rather minimal.
The room had gray cement walls, a few tables, pipes hanging from the ceiling, a few lamps from the ceiling but most of the light in the room came from a white neck-to-thighs mannequin-shaped lamp in a corner near the bench-like thing with the shackles. It gave him an abandoned warehouse feeling but also looked like a torture room to him. He liked it and at the same time he hated it. This was once one of his first rooms here and where he learned that he did not need much to reduce someone to a big pile of nothing.
His appointment was obviously not here yet so he checked if the cameras were on and if his 'toy box' was under the bench as it should be. He then checked on the shackles around and over the center bench, finding the key in the box and hanging it to his earring for later uses.
"You don't even greet someone in your room, Jiyong?"
The deep voice made him jump in surprise, he turned to the darker corner of the room that the mannequin light could not light.
"What the fuck?" The blond man was instinctively looking for the safety gun that should be in every room he worked in.
"You're looking for this, pretty face?" The voice said and the shiny barrel of a pistol came into light, pointing Jiyong.
"Oh, aren't we a smartass?" He raised his eyebrow at the weapon pointed at him. He was not afraid of it nor he was afraid of death, he was only afraid of three things: Himself, fear itself and something else. "Give that back."
With a low laugh the other man came out of the color of shadows but was still just as dark. He was taller and had black hair that covered a part of his face and was dressed in all black classy clothing with too many layers for the temperature of the place. Jiyong jumped out of his skin, remembering instantly what was that third thing he was afraid of.
It was this man. The man who started it all.
Although Jiyong's eyes kept glancing at the door and his mind kept calculating how quick he would be able to dash to it, he stayed frozen. His only option was putting back his unimpressed face and just stare back.
"Oh it's you." The blond man rolled his eyes." Come back later. Waiting for someone."
In near to no time, he found his arm twisted behind his back and the gun to his temple.
"Now now. Is this a way to talk to me?" The taller man snarled.
"What? You'd want me to get on my knees and call you Daddy? Fries with that, bastard?" Jiyong spat, keeping his eyes on the mannequin lamp in the far corner and avoiding any thought of the tight grip on his arm, of the cold barrel on his head or the warm breath against his neck.
"Look at you, babe... all dressed so pretty and smelling so good..." The low voice said, and the twisting of his arm grew more painful. "For who are you dressing like this? All Louis Vuittoned up with a pretty ass Armani belt... you smell like that new expensive ass perfume on TV..." He asked, smelling the smaller man's skin, "Did this person buy this for you? Tell me."
Jiyong huffed, "When it's your business, Choi Seunghyun, I'll be sure to ring ya. Piss off."
The low laughter echoed in the room again and the gun barrel tucked itself between Jiyong's jaw and his neck, "Everything about you is my fucking business, whore. I fucking own you."
The shorter man gulped hard and closed his eyes. This was his reality that he could not avoid, no matter what he did. He liked to think he was independent, that he built himself something that no one could take away from him and that he stood for himself and had a meaning in life despite having only little that he could call his... but he was right. Jiyong belonged to him. This guy fed him, got a roof over his head, made sure he was treated right and protected and knew all he was doing at any time of the day or night. He wished so badly that one day he could divide himself from him and survive on his own completely but this man had him chained to him. No matter how hard Jiyong tried to pretend he was in control, he never was.
"... A customer gave that to me." Jiyong said in a small voice.
"Oh who may that be, I wonder..." Choi glared at him, "You think I haven't been checking Jonghwan's reports? You only serve one guy and reject the other appointments...and yet, you get enough cash to get all dolled up in designer shit. What the fuck is up with that? Going over the rules, Ji?"
"Seunghyun, listen. I'm sick of fucking being nothing and I'll be damned if I can't control that 'nothing' I am." The blonde said, "He's easy cash and undemanding. I get my cash, you get yours. Win win situation."
"Not so winning. You used to have 13 regulars. 12 have been found in the garbage container out your window. Why didn't you just waste him like the others?"
"Fuck, you gave me a gun for a reason. I ain't down with bastards tryin'a make me their bitch. They got a line to respect. I'm no one's. Not even yours." The other choked out, trying to wiggle out of the other man's grasp. "Let go, dammit."
The other man did not bother listening to what he had to say, "You fancy the guy, don't you?"
Jiyong's eyes widened two times their size and his whole body tensed up.
"....Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Oh Ji. You know you can't lie to me..." Seunghyun said, chuckling darkly. "Weren't you my babe? Want to be his now? I don't think I really like that..."
The protsitute felt the other inhaling next to his neck and felt a chill crawl up his spine. Choi Seunghyun had been the first person Jiyong had ever felt anything for ever since his family's death. He was a young idiot at the time and did not know that the guy would get him working for his father's 'business'. He used to believe all those "baby, you're beautiful" and "I love you, Ji" but now he just knew they were lies to keep him attached to Seunghyun and make sure he stayed his... he also knew it somehow still worked. Maybe the sweet words were once true and love has been somewhere between them -or so he wanted to believe- but now it was nothing else than pain and it was all Jiyong wanted from the man. Feeling pain was much better than nothing, his heart needed a reason to beat after all.
"Tell me you ain't his, babe. Tell me you're mine." Seunghyun said and turned Jiyong to face him. He brushed the blond hair away from his forehead so he could see the younger man's dark eyes.
"... I'm yours, baby. Still yours..."
Jiyong felt tears coming to him simply because such a person existed. Maybe it was because of his inability to lie to the man about anything without the burning feeling of guilt ripping at his insides. The guy was the one who taught him how to bring out someone's true self after all. The lie felt incredibly heavy on him and was painful like the other had actually shot him sometime after the words came out of his mouth.
"Fucking bullshit."
Jiyong was hit across the face with the steel of the gun's barrel. He hit some pipes hanging from the ceiling and fell against the center bench, holding his cheek and fuming silently. He refused to scream or express his pain in any other way but tears already rolled down his cheeks.
"So you fell for this motherfucking actor, did you? You do know the guy must have about ten mistresses up his pants all worshiping his dick to hit his cash like you do, right? You know you're just a little fun until he's married to the goddamn bitch, right? And even if he still sees you after, the medias gonna get him and he'll leave you.... Just like everyone left you, everyone but me."
"Sh-shut up..." Jiyong said, wishing the guy would just shoot already. Seunghyun's cold words felt like stabs to his heart, or whatever was that excuse for a heart he had anyways.
"You're still so naive, still the little boy I fucked in that damn alley. Still crying when it hurts, still weak... You think you need that guy don't you? Do you need him?"
"Fuck, no! I don't!" The prostitute yelled, his eyes widening when he saw the other raising his gun again. He grabbed for his necklace, the pendant on it was an actual jack knife. It was here for fashion but now it could be used for survival. "Fucking hit me again and I swear I'm killing you."
"So feisty... Such big words for such a small guy." Seunghyun looked down at the knife the other was pointing at him. "You seem to forget I'm holding a gun here."
"Fuck yourself with it! I'd still be stabbing you even after I die!" Jiyong said, "Just tell me what the fuck you want from me!"
"I'm supposed to get the money you owe my old man, he wants it bad." Seunghyun shrugged. "But I came with something else in mind, babe."
"What do you want?"
The shorter man saw the crooked smirk on his "owner's" face and shuddered as the other laid him back on the bench and hovered over his lean body.
"How about some getting on your knees and calling me Daddy like in the good ol' days?"
"Yeah, sure. Fucking fries with that?" Jiyong glared at the face over his. He could have stabbed the guy and ran away but now was too late, the other was heavier and Jiyong's arm was in no place to fight, stuck between them. "I got business tonight. I'll deal with you at another time."
Seunghyun shook his head and slid his fingers along the other's cheek, "Will I have to hurt this goddamn idol if I want you to pay attention to me again?"
A wave of anger and possessiveness went through the prostitute's mind. Only he could hurt Seungri. That was his privilege and no one else's, he'd do anything to keep it. Plus, he knew Seunghyun would not draw any lines to the 'hurting' limit and might kill the actor. He had to do something.
In a quick move, Jiyong pulled Seunghyun down and pressed his lips over his fiercely and clawed at his clothes like he depended on it. He hurriedly parted his lips to show all the good he can do to the other man's tongue with his own. He vaguely thought about how he never genuinely kissed Seungri or allowed him over him but he pushed the thought away quickly because thoughts like this and 'fighting' his 'master' did not go together.
"And you were rejecting me earlier... am I getting fries with that?" Seunghyun laughed low, pointing out how the other had refused to submit to him a minute ago. "Thought you were busy tonight, babe."
The pale-haired man wrapped his long legs around the other man's waist and nipped at his bottom lip, "You always get me somehow... I always have time to be good to you, Daddy."
As soon as Jiyong ended this sentence, the other man's hands disappeared inside his shirt.
"Oh, Daddy... If I'm good enough for you, maybe we can...." The blonde pushed his tongue past Seunghyun's lips and into his mouth, moving it in and out repeatedly and imitating the movement that could be going on in a lower location as he pushed his hips up against the ones over his'. The taller man groaned and started on undoing his belt.
Despite that Jiyong was ashamed that he was using himself and his charms as his weapons against the man, he smirked against his lips.
Dominance. He was winning it.
Fandom: Big Bang
Pairing: GRi, GTOP
Genre: AU, Slash
Rating: Hard R.
Summary: This life is filled with hurt where happiness doesn't work.
Warnings: Sex, violence, adultery, abuse. It's hardcore, really. 14 years old who don't care about NC-17 warning, GTFO okay?
A/N: This fic exists thanks to popular request, too much Three Days Grace and this. Feeding you this because I'm not done yet... .__.
Jiyong arrived in the brothel's hotel-like lobby too early. He was sitting on a chair and smoking a vanilla flavored cigarette from the pack that one of his workmates had handed to him after he and her had some 'practice time' together. Time always passed slowly, even on luxury watches like the one he owned since not too long ago.
The bastard actor who was to be here tonight was late, Jiyong assumed that he was fucking his fiancee before coming to him again... He could forget about a blowjob, Jiyong had no intention if tasting cunt on someone's dick. He would definitely knee Seungri in the balls the second he walked into the lobby... Unless he was already here. He vaguely wondered why the guy even bothered with the woman anymore if he did not even love her or felt the least of attraction for her... That was both none of his business and irrelevant to his interest.
"Ey, douchebag." He called to the guy behind the counter and blew a cloud of fragrant smoke out as he spoke.
"The name is Jonghwan." Replied the clerk, not even looking up from the desk bell he was shining.
"Whatever. Sounds the same." The blond man said, not giving a damn in the world about what that guy's name was. "My customer here yet?"
The man behind the desk sighed and looked at a screen that was in front of him, "Your appointment in room 49 is already here."
"He is?" Jiyong stood up. "Room 49. Fuck, what? I never work in that."
"Apparently, you do. I'm never wrong." The other replied. "Please hurry before I get flamed for it."
'Work, serve, job, firing." The blond man sashayed his way to the desk, laughing. "You need to get laid, douche."
"As if I needed a whore throwing me on a bed and smacking me up like you do to your client."
"Some smacking around won't kill you," Jiyong said, stubbing his cigarette out on the expensive desk's glass surface with a grin. "Be a doll and get rid of that, okay?"
The thrown cigarette butt just bumped against Jonghwan's forehead as Jiyong left. The clerk cursed that damn prostitute for being mentally unstable and a potential threat to his job and life.
Walking down the dark hallways and flights of stairs and greeting a few whores walking around, Jiyong tried to remember what was in room 49 and how he could possibly use it against Seunghyun and to his own advantage. He had good imagination so he could be able to pull it off once inside the room anyways. He rubbed his eyes a little before turning the knob to what he guessed was room 49. The lights were off and he was not so good at trying to read Braille on the doors' signs. He entered the room and looked around, finding the place rather minimal.
The room had gray cement walls, a few tables, pipes hanging from the ceiling, a few lamps from the ceiling but most of the light in the room came from a white neck-to-thighs mannequin-shaped lamp in a corner near the bench-like thing with the shackles. It gave him an abandoned warehouse feeling but also looked like a torture room to him. He liked it and at the same time he hated it. This was once one of his first rooms here and where he learned that he did not need much to reduce someone to a big pile of nothing.
His appointment was obviously not here yet so he checked if the cameras were on and if his 'toy box' was under the bench as it should be. He then checked on the shackles around and over the center bench, finding the key in the box and hanging it to his earring for later uses.
"You don't even greet someone in your room, Jiyong?"
The deep voice made him jump in surprise, he turned to the darker corner of the room that the mannequin light could not light.
"What the fuck?" The blond man was instinctively looking for the safety gun that should be in every room he worked in.
"You're looking for this, pretty face?" The voice said and the shiny barrel of a pistol came into light, pointing Jiyong.
"Oh, aren't we a smartass?" He raised his eyebrow at the weapon pointed at him. He was not afraid of it nor he was afraid of death, he was only afraid of three things: Himself, fear itself and something else. "Give that back."
With a low laugh the other man came out of the color of shadows but was still just as dark. He was taller and had black hair that covered a part of his face and was dressed in all black classy clothing with too many layers for the temperature of the place. Jiyong jumped out of his skin, remembering instantly what was that third thing he was afraid of.
It was this man. The man who started it all.
Although Jiyong's eyes kept glancing at the door and his mind kept calculating how quick he would be able to dash to it, he stayed frozen. His only option was putting back his unimpressed face and just stare back.
"Oh it's you." The blond man rolled his eyes." Come back later. Waiting for someone."
In near to no time, he found his arm twisted behind his back and the gun to his temple.
"Now now. Is this a way to talk to me?" The taller man snarled.
"What? You'd want me to get on my knees and call you Daddy? Fries with that, bastard?" Jiyong spat, keeping his eyes on the mannequin lamp in the far corner and avoiding any thought of the tight grip on his arm, of the cold barrel on his head or the warm breath against his neck.
"Look at you, babe... all dressed so pretty and smelling so good..." The low voice said, and the twisting of his arm grew more painful. "For who are you dressing like this? All Louis Vuittoned up with a pretty ass Armani belt... you smell like that new expensive ass perfume on TV..." He asked, smelling the smaller man's skin, "Did this person buy this for you? Tell me."
Jiyong huffed, "When it's your business, Choi Seunghyun, I'll be sure to ring ya. Piss off."
The low laughter echoed in the room again and the gun barrel tucked itself between Jiyong's jaw and his neck, "Everything about you is my fucking business, whore. I fucking own you."
The shorter man gulped hard and closed his eyes. This was his reality that he could not avoid, no matter what he did. He liked to think he was independent, that he built himself something that no one could take away from him and that he stood for himself and had a meaning in life despite having only little that he could call his... but he was right. Jiyong belonged to him. This guy fed him, got a roof over his head, made sure he was treated right and protected and knew all he was doing at any time of the day or night. He wished so badly that one day he could divide himself from him and survive on his own completely but this man had him chained to him. No matter how hard Jiyong tried to pretend he was in control, he never was.
"... A customer gave that to me." Jiyong said in a small voice.
"Oh who may that be, I wonder..." Choi glared at him, "You think I haven't been checking Jonghwan's reports? You only serve one guy and reject the other appointments...and yet, you get enough cash to get all dolled up in designer shit. What the fuck is up with that? Going over the rules, Ji?"
"Seunghyun, listen. I'm sick of fucking being nothing and I'll be damned if I can't control that 'nothing' I am." The blonde said, "He's easy cash and undemanding. I get my cash, you get yours. Win win situation."
"Not so winning. You used to have 13 regulars. 12 have been found in the garbage container out your window. Why didn't you just waste him like the others?"
"Fuck, you gave me a gun for a reason. I ain't down with bastards tryin'a make me their bitch. They got a line to respect. I'm no one's. Not even yours." The other choked out, trying to wiggle out of the other man's grasp. "Let go, dammit."
The other man did not bother listening to what he had to say, "You fancy the guy, don't you?"
Jiyong's eyes widened two times their size and his whole body tensed up.
"....Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Oh Ji. You know you can't lie to me..." Seunghyun said, chuckling darkly. "Weren't you my babe? Want to be his now? I don't think I really like that..."
The protsitute felt the other inhaling next to his neck and felt a chill crawl up his spine. Choi Seunghyun had been the first person Jiyong had ever felt anything for ever since his family's death. He was a young idiot at the time and did not know that the guy would get him working for his father's 'business'. He used to believe all those "baby, you're beautiful" and "I love you, Ji" but now he just knew they were lies to keep him attached to Seunghyun and make sure he stayed his... he also knew it somehow still worked. Maybe the sweet words were once true and love has been somewhere between them -or so he wanted to believe- but now it was nothing else than pain and it was all Jiyong wanted from the man. Feeling pain was much better than nothing, his heart needed a reason to beat after all.
"Tell me you ain't his, babe. Tell me you're mine." Seunghyun said and turned Jiyong to face him. He brushed the blond hair away from his forehead so he could see the younger man's dark eyes.
"... I'm yours, baby. Still yours..."
Jiyong felt tears coming to him simply because such a person existed. Maybe it was because of his inability to lie to the man about anything without the burning feeling of guilt ripping at his insides. The guy was the one who taught him how to bring out someone's true self after all. The lie felt incredibly heavy on him and was painful like the other had actually shot him sometime after the words came out of his mouth.
"Fucking bullshit."
Jiyong was hit across the face with the steel of the gun's barrel. He hit some pipes hanging from the ceiling and fell against the center bench, holding his cheek and fuming silently. He refused to scream or express his pain in any other way but tears already rolled down his cheeks.
"So you fell for this motherfucking actor, did you? You do know the guy must have about ten mistresses up his pants all worshiping his dick to hit his cash like you do, right? You know you're just a little fun until he's married to the goddamn bitch, right? And even if he still sees you after, the medias gonna get him and he'll leave you.... Just like everyone left you, everyone but me."
"Sh-shut up..." Jiyong said, wishing the guy would just shoot already. Seunghyun's cold words felt like stabs to his heart, or whatever was that excuse for a heart he had anyways.
"You're still so naive, still the little boy I fucked in that damn alley. Still crying when it hurts, still weak... You think you need that guy don't you? Do you need him?"
"Fuck, no! I don't!" The prostitute yelled, his eyes widening when he saw the other raising his gun again. He grabbed for his necklace, the pendant on it was an actual jack knife. It was here for fashion but now it could be used for survival. "Fucking hit me again and I swear I'm killing you."
"So feisty... Such big words for such a small guy." Seunghyun looked down at the knife the other was pointing at him. "You seem to forget I'm holding a gun here."
"Fuck yourself with it! I'd still be stabbing you even after I die!" Jiyong said, "Just tell me what the fuck you want from me!"
"I'm supposed to get the money you owe my old man, he wants it bad." Seunghyun shrugged. "But I came with something else in mind, babe."
"What do you want?"
The shorter man saw the crooked smirk on his "owner's" face and shuddered as the other laid him back on the bench and hovered over his lean body.
"How about some getting on your knees and calling me Daddy like in the good ol' days?"
"Yeah, sure. Fucking fries with that?" Jiyong glared at the face over his. He could have stabbed the guy and ran away but now was too late, the other was heavier and Jiyong's arm was in no place to fight, stuck between them. "I got business tonight. I'll deal with you at another time."
Seunghyun shook his head and slid his fingers along the other's cheek, "Will I have to hurt this goddamn idol if I want you to pay attention to me again?"
A wave of anger and possessiveness went through the prostitute's mind. Only he could hurt Seungri. That was his privilege and no one else's, he'd do anything to keep it. Plus, he knew Seunghyun would not draw any lines to the 'hurting' limit and might kill the actor. He had to do something.
In a quick move, Jiyong pulled Seunghyun down and pressed his lips over his fiercely and clawed at his clothes like he depended on it. He hurriedly parted his lips to show all the good he can do to the other man's tongue with his own. He vaguely thought about how he never genuinely kissed Seungri or allowed him over him but he pushed the thought away quickly because thoughts like this and 'fighting' his 'master' did not go together.
"And you were rejecting me earlier... am I getting fries with that?" Seunghyun laughed low, pointing out how the other had refused to submit to him a minute ago. "Thought you were busy tonight, babe."
The pale-haired man wrapped his long legs around the other man's waist and nipped at his bottom lip, "You always get me somehow... I always have time to be good to you, Daddy."
As soon as Jiyong ended this sentence, the other man's hands disappeared inside his shirt.
"Oh, Daddy... If I'm good enough for you, maybe we can...." The blonde pushed his tongue past Seunghyun's lips and into his mouth, moving it in and out repeatedly and imitating the movement that could be going on in a lower location as he pushed his hips up against the ones over his'. The taller man groaned and started on undoing his belt.
Despite that Jiyong was ashamed that he was using himself and his charms as his weapons against the man, he smirked against his lips.
Dominance. He was winning it.