fic: The Black Lie -2-
I do not consider the temperamental one to be mother or father. I was born because I was summoned, not on a fated chance. Unknowingly, the temperamental one summoned me the moment he gave in to the warped fantasies lodged in his human heart. It couldn’t have been helped, nor could it have been curbed.
My breeding prophets that I call him Master.
But I do believe it should be the other way around. For who is it that is profitable to whom? I spit at the mere idea that the temperamental one, this Jonghyun, can even begin to fathom controlling me. I cannot be beneath him if he is beneath me. I supersede him. I would mean nothing to him in a quest for power and ruin…yet he’d mean everything to me. I’d salvage all of the rotten-wrought porridge I could milk from his insignificant little soul, his hide-all of it before he, if he happened upon a miracle, identified the source of my weakness and destroyed it.
Yet in all his last minute wisdom (which couldn’t be much, with a species so inferior and philistine) it wouldn’t be too imprudent to assume that by the time I was figured out, it would have already be too late for him and those around him. They would be too consumed, decimated, damned…to even lay and establish intent for a self-purging. A hopeless farewell to salvation; for what fools they’d be, thinking they could outwit lifetimes of evil and, thus, turn the tables for right of Master?
These unholy musings are enough for my amorphous body to hum in a villainous purr; electric, caramelized thrill like spiders crackling through me. I quake with ill-mannered amusements.
Yet a soft-spoken mewl originates from my left. Where there is that infernal white glow, a puff of modest light that irritates the sensitive, rosy bowls of my vision; that obscures me with misguided judgment of an arrogance that is meant to play on the fact that he is the lesser of the two evils, the one who is confined to little to no faults-though he is (or could be) as dangerous as I if he really tried to be.
He is the lesser in evil, yes.
However, he should know he embodies “less” in every other way as well.
Sister, must you rehearse your plots of misdeed so fervently? Isn’t it enough that you will eat well?
What is your problem, scum? I snarl in response, good mood flattened. How dare you question the one has conquered and vanquished worlds while you dabble in mere child’s play. Chipping at the block instead of smashing it in a few blows; how can we even compare?
I made no comparison, Sister he replied even more gently. Silvery blue spheres, embedded into the white cloud, fix onto me in vulnerable plead. Despicable. I only ask that you refrain from your crooked tangents so earnestly, for your health as well as mine, since we are still affixed. I was not made like you, I do not hold steadfast under a malignancy like yours. Please, spare my words heed.
Silence! Do not make out like you care for me. You know just as well as I that we will not thrive together long. I will survive, and I will kill you so that my territory is secured. It is you who will be obliterated by your own inability to shield against the humans’ guilt, and inevitable candor-if not by my own hand. A true lie does not let itself be manhandled by the regrets and inhibitions of its hosts. A true lie spreads, is free. A true lie wipes out entire ecosystems without remorse, and takes many moons to die off-even leaving its name, sometimes, in the form of uncompensated debris. A true lie is strong, it stains, and it never hesitates or stops. Everything you are not, and do not adhere to as a white lie…
He remained silent, and then projected a sigh towards our linked tails. A painful, interlocked twist of the deepest ink and the purest milk.
You never last long, Brother. You know that I am much too powerful. And better I destroy you now, right? You would only morph into my likeness the more you fed. The expansion of his blue eyes narrowed the slightest. This world only needs one of me, you surely understand. That’s all it takes. Then we will be reborn again elsewhere… Now my suffocating aura swirled around him, the pink of my belittling stare reflecting in his clear skies so that a hint of lavender shadowed the glass of his own disturbed gaze. He began to cough and choke. But pity is it, that you are always born to die by my side. Pity that you are offered life only to have that parcel snatched away as soon as it touches your finger tips.
Please, Sister. I can’t hear anymore
You fare no better than these lowly humans! Just as petty and unprincipled, just as impressionable and easily chained as they! I showed my sharpened teeth in a grinning growl. So after I put you in your place to rot, it will be I to mold the one known as Jonghyun as my pawn. I will overburden him under my spell. I will use him, and he will have no idea of his servitude, hahaha. As they never do. Not until the end.
Burning mist evaporated from his ducts. The frustrated steam, infused with my vapor of dull detriment and graveyard odes, sizzled as a sickening stench into the bed springs. A tinge of red marring his pure white, smoky body.
So don’t make yourself too comfortable I hissed Once I am stronger, you will not suffer long under my claw before you die…Brother.
Yet he remained quiet afterwards, averting those angry, teary eyes. He knows, so he will not push the issue.
He knows he is always marked as prey.
And he should know, by now, that his askances of mercy will fall upon deaf ears: Hope is for desperate fools. His conquest is my duty, as is every other living thing’s.
For I am infinite.
I am invincible.
I am the black death…
I am the black lie.
_______
“Hyung.”
Jonghyun stilled at the deep address. He’d been reaching for something in the fridge, something refreshing for his dry throat, something warm to rout his nightmares and knock him out.
He waited, not even bothering to turn the sleep thickened voice, his heart rate accelerating even though on the outside, he seemed more or less tame.
The shadow moved closer, glow from the fridge slightly revealing the owner of the familiar husk.
“…Is there something wrong?”
There was a tired sigh, a half snort. “So you assume something is wrong with me because you find me in the kitchen in the middle of the night?”
“No. But I assume something is wrong when I hear whimpering and crying the next room over.”
Jonghyun glowered into the fridge’s confines, muttering a quiet fuck. Not bothered to turn on the microwave and make more noise, he swiped the nearest drink out of the top self and swung the door closed. The warm milk would have done wonders, yet now, with the younger boy’s clingy concern, it probably would have turned his stomach sour.
But its not like Minho made it his business to be the first to know. It just happened that way.
“Again…” Minho stared coolly as Jonghyun downed the drink in strong gulps. “Something you need to talk about?”
Stubborn gazes in Siamese lock; neither one backed down in the deafening silence.
“Aish, what would you care?” Jonghyun finally huffed when the he let the bottle down, wiping his mouth with his wrist. He rolled his eyes, yet the edgy shakes were vines sprouting under his skin. “Do I tunnel up your ass when you’re acting like a weirdo?”
There was peculiar squint from the rapper, mostly from Jonghyun’s choice of wording, but then he shook his head and shrugged. “Okay. I’m not asking anymore. I’m demanding. Tell me what’s going on or no one is leaving this kitchen.” He leisurely ghosted his way to the middle of the floor where tile met carpet. “Whether you take that as a bluff or not,” he dangled in that low, even whisper.
The bottle slammed to the counter top. “There’s nothing wrong with me,” he spat.
Under his bed, a crafty, silvery smile. Out sprouted a snub of an arm from the black mass.
“You’ve been moody lately. More than usual. You stay in your room all day when you don’t have schedule.”
“ And? I’ve got a lot on my mind lately. Doesn’t mean I have a problem.” He drew near to the tall Sphinx obstructing his way, chin raised high. His head throbbed in aching sync with the main arteries in his thighs-the same smarting pain from the running he’d done several nights ago.
A dark hand materializes, clawed fingers flexing in glee.
Minho glared down at him, lifting his powerful arms up, biceps bare and muscles spasming faintly under the smooth skin. An under toned threat if Jonghyun ever saw one. “Your sister is calling us. Which means you aren’t picking up your phone.”
“What part of ‘a lot on my mind’ do you not understand?”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t fucking do anything. Now move,” Jonghyun growled, going to shove one of the younger’s arms out of the way. It barely budged, Minho’s veined hand clutching the wall with a vengeance.
Another arm popped out. She sneered over at her brother, who was balled in the corner of the bed watching her with his wide, lacquer blue eyes. The only limbs he had were his legs, and it had been a privileged stroke to receive them: the small one, Taemin, had lied about who’d left the milk sitting out and the quiet one, Onew, had appeared suspiciously nonplussed when questioned about his “cold”; then, with the gift of an impromptu tongue, explained with his ashen, grainy smile to their manager that he was fine other than being a little worse for wear…when really, he couldn’t have felt more horrid. But stressing about a little food poisoning wasn’t going to promote their new music video.
Both lies were small enough to strengthen him and do nothing for her, yet this night was proving a fruitful disadvantage to his life span…
Minho suddenly grinned. Something Jonghyun could have gone without, seeing as the grin plastered on his normally stoic face didn’t look natural. Or friendly.
“You went out again. You went there.”
Deep brown marbles for eyes turned into momentary suns before Jonghyun harnessed back his hard expression. “I didn’t go anywhere, and if I did, I certainly would be caught dead in that dump.”
Dead silence. Minho didn’t even have to grab a hand and access the scabs in between Jonghyun’s fingers. He’d seen them countless times, while they were together in public or recording, even when they sat around discussing and jotting new lyrics. Especially then. They were the telltale signs of something only he could digest.
“What happened hyung?” Minho asked in a sweet, condescending voice. Again, Jonghyun didn’t need this. Not now. If anything, he was getting a little woozy, and perhaps lying down again would coax him into sleep.
“Its not your business.”
“So you did go.”
“I said I didn’t!” Jonghyun punched the bulky clothesline in front of him. Minho’s hand slipped a bit as he grunted, yet no cigar. “Move,” he continued, shaking his hand. “Before I do something I regret.”
The attacked arm merely flexed defiantly. “Do you regret going back?” was the smirked whisper.
“I would have no qualms about biting the shit out of you.”
“Go ahead.” Something wicked, something challenging flashed in the taller boy’s hidden gaze. “You know, I didn’t think you had it in you. Going back there. Why, Jonghyun?”
Jonghyun stewed silently. Bruising Minho’s face would only stir up controversy, attention and a lot of lip he didn’t want to stoop under.
His fists curled tighter.
Minho licked his lips, chuckling incredulously as he glanced off to the side, then back at the brooding figure in front of him with a cocked head. “I just wonder how you escaped without me there. Its just as unbelievable as them letting you escape.”
“I wasn’t there. I didn’t do anything, and you’re really pissing me off right now.”
“That’s just fine, actually.”
Jonghyun let out a cracked squawk as he flew back. Almost to the wall, where vials of spices proudly occupied a rack in organized finesse. Just as quickly, Minho was upon him, pinning him to the wall with a hated grip to his neck. The other hand clamped to Jonghyun shoulder and his hips cuffed nearly penetrably to the elder’s.
“Why did you go back?” Minho breathed calmly, nose testing Jonghyun’s in gentle knocks. Jonghyun, meanwhile, had no choice but to meet those gaping, accusing voids.
She had all of her limbs now. Bless the tall one, for sparing her the dirty work of making Jonghyun come clean-or rather, unclean. He’d do well as her next host. Chanting an ancient mantra, she advanced upon the glowing white ball with a pert sigh of content. The ball whimpered and trembled…
“You don’t have to lie, hyung. I think I can sort of understand why you’d go back. Because see, once you’re there for the first time, its hard to ignore the call to come back. I’ve been there, what you’re feeling now. Your suffering. A taste is all it takes. After that…” Minho blew into Jonghyun’s parted lips, chilling the immobilized man’s gums. Like lightning, his grin returned suggestively against those same lips as he rolled into Jonghyun’s stiffened lower body. “….you always want more.”
It was embarrassing, his tentative gasp. “Minho…get off…”
The finger constricting Jonghyun’s freshly shaven neck played a scale on his prickly skin. “I’m sure you heard that a lot while you were there.”
“I..I-I promise you…I swear I didn’t go. I didn’t…I would never jeopardize…M-Minho-”
“Was it better this time around? Was it more…hands on? What did you like about it this time, hm?” He pushed his forehead closer to the warmer man’s. What he lacked in heated interrogation-with his monotone questions-, he made up for with brute tactic. His hips slammed forward, a cruel edge hooked on, “Did it make you feel good? Did you love it?” when he spoke again. Making Jonghyun’s teeth click, hindering his case totally invalid.
He began to sigh: “I didn’t-
“You’re so fucking pathetic, Jonghyun. Thought you could hide this forever, didn’t you?”
“Hide w…” But the words died in his throat. They died, and scrambled as they rose into his skull to turn into spine crawling epiphanies.
“I’ve known all along. And I have to say-disappointed you didn’t have me enough trust to confide in me. “Minho pouted, his lips sticking to Jonghyun’s. “I thought we were friends.”
“Listen-
“But I think I’m more upset with your carelessness,” he rasped sourly, the fumes of forgery of concern, Minho’s insincerity for the elder’s misuse of morals wafting into Jonghyun’s nostrils like a toxin. “I’m in this shit for the money Jonghyun, as you well know. You are, and so’s that annoying Daegu fag, as well as the brat and the pushover. Can you guess who gets thrown out on their asses when you fuck this shit up for good?”
“Why the fuck are you doing this?!” Jonghyun suddenly exploded; and in doing so, he almost succeeded in prying the digits from his now-indented neck. The fight bubbled up in his gut, like it was waiting for the right moment to ignite. When the prying didn’t work, he resorted to propelling against those broad, burly shoulders. With all his might, with all his frantic strength, adrenaline fuzzing his sanity.
“Quit showing out,” Minho berated coldly. He squeezed harder, both hips and armor-plated hand. “I’d much rather take the disgusting crying.”
“This isn’t fair! I haven’t done anything wrong, please!”
Lightning flooded the dorm, emphasis on the clumped pair. The thunder that followed, if one were acutely attuned, singed into silence with a hint of a muffled, bloodcurdling scream…..
Her gaping maw snapped shut, milky ectoplasm dripping a thing trail down her chin. Gliding away from the empty corner under the bed, she greedily suckled her brother’s remains from each and every inky finger. Pinky first, as was customary….
Jonghyun took that opportunity to burst away from the taller boy. Before Minho could grab him, he struck the pots hanging over the stove, hoping the clanging din would alert the others out of their slumbers.
Which had no reason not to work. Key ran out half naked, probably disturbed from a night piss. The living room lamp flipped on. “The hell is going….oh God. You clumsy shits couldn’t save this until later?”
“I saw a bug,” Jonghyun explained lamely.
Minho only stared at him in blank dissatisfaction; attitude stemming from his foiled efforts, preventing him from becoming Jonghyun’s alibi.
Yet Key brushed the claim off and ignored Minho altogether. “Whatever. If something spilled I’m not cleaning it up.” The he stuffed himself back in his sweats and trampled back into the hallway with a yawn, brushing shoulders with Taemin, then Jinki as they stumbled past. “False alarm, late ones,” Key supplied loudly before he slipped back into his room, rolling his eyes.
As Taemin about-faced with sucked teeth, the leader groggily watched Jonghyun and Minho shuffling around with the pots. Careful not to touch each other, avoiding eye contact. It wasn’t unusual at all for him to be so perceptive in such a sorry, snotty, and exhausted state, and their behaviors reeked of bad blood from the past…
…he wouldn’t get involved this time.
His yawn a bit more humble, Jinki murmured “not again” and padded back to his room with Taemin.
The retrieved silence didn’t last long.
Déjà vu. Jonghyun had paused with the deep voice again. As he was about to tread back to his room.
“Not caught dead there, right?” The owner of the voice snickered huskily, spiraling into a darker octave after a brief stall. “Don’t jinx yourself, buddy.”
However, Jonghyun was done. He was done even before the words gnashed into his back. This was over.
With a jagged “Fuck you” he hurriedly slinked back to his room. Shut the door with the freshly scrubbed paneling and the leftover rust prints. Crawled into bed and turned on his side.
Under his bed, her larger body crouched to the floor. Pink balls slitted with a pulsing black hovered and danced in the darkness. Tongue swiping her chops.
Lying there defeated, Jonghyun twitched at the faint sound of cackling-surely his imagination-… and vaguely wondered why he felt a fear that didn’t associate with Minho, or his current transgressions. Just from walking into his room. A fear that was his, but definitely wasn’t.
Jonghyun…
Jonghyun…
The bed skirt swooshed up. His eyes lurked under the bed…skimming the nothing there.
Funny, why did the frazzled child inside him go to seek under his bed first?
Sighing angrily, he brought himself back up and tossed himself to his side again. Lids tight, mouth thin, blankets up to his chin. The red baby bruises on his neck stung ominously. He decided that before he completely went crazy, he’d better just clock out.
I didn’t go, I didn’t go, I didn’t do anything…
Something isn’t right. There was a strike of lightning and thunder. Just one of each, yet it isn’t raining. Not even a premonitory howling wind…
Jonghyun curls into himself, bracing himself for some reason. Awaiting the cruel assail.
Somehow, it is familiar.
Something…isn’t right.
Jonghyun…
Well done, Jonghyun…
His eyes clamped tighter.
The glaring pink eyes blink back open.
Lips stretch into a sharp, bedeviling smile.
My breeding prophets that I call him Master.
But I do believe it should be the other way around. For who is it that is profitable to whom? I spit at the mere idea that the temperamental one, this Jonghyun, can even begin to fathom controlling me. I cannot be beneath him if he is beneath me. I supersede him. I would mean nothing to him in a quest for power and ruin…yet he’d mean everything to me. I’d salvage all of the rotten-wrought porridge I could milk from his insignificant little soul, his hide-all of it before he, if he happened upon a miracle, identified the source of my weakness and destroyed it.
Yet in all his last minute wisdom (which couldn’t be much, with a species so inferior and philistine) it wouldn’t be too imprudent to assume that by the time I was figured out, it would have already be too late for him and those around him. They would be too consumed, decimated, damned…to even lay and establish intent for a self-purging. A hopeless farewell to salvation; for what fools they’d be, thinking they could outwit lifetimes of evil and, thus, turn the tables for right of Master?
These unholy musings are enough for my amorphous body to hum in a villainous purr; electric, caramelized thrill like spiders crackling through me. I quake with ill-mannered amusements.
Yet a soft-spoken mewl originates from my left. Where there is that infernal white glow, a puff of modest light that irritates the sensitive, rosy bowls of my vision; that obscures me with misguided judgment of an arrogance that is meant to play on the fact that he is the lesser of the two evils, the one who is confined to little to no faults-though he is (or could be) as dangerous as I if he really tried to be.
He is the lesser in evil, yes.
However, he should know he embodies “less” in every other way as well.
Sister, must you rehearse your plots of misdeed so fervently? Isn’t it enough that you will eat well?
What is your problem, scum? I snarl in response, good mood flattened. How dare you question the one has conquered and vanquished worlds while you dabble in mere child’s play. Chipping at the block instead of smashing it in a few blows; how can we even compare?
I made no comparison, Sister he replied even more gently. Silvery blue spheres, embedded into the white cloud, fix onto me in vulnerable plead. Despicable. I only ask that you refrain from your crooked tangents so earnestly, for your health as well as mine, since we are still affixed. I was not made like you, I do not hold steadfast under a malignancy like yours. Please, spare my words heed.
Silence! Do not make out like you care for me. You know just as well as I that we will not thrive together long. I will survive, and I will kill you so that my territory is secured. It is you who will be obliterated by your own inability to shield against the humans’ guilt, and inevitable candor-if not by my own hand. A true lie does not let itself be manhandled by the regrets and inhibitions of its hosts. A true lie spreads, is free. A true lie wipes out entire ecosystems without remorse, and takes many moons to die off-even leaving its name, sometimes, in the form of uncompensated debris. A true lie is strong, it stains, and it never hesitates or stops. Everything you are not, and do not adhere to as a white lie…
He remained silent, and then projected a sigh towards our linked tails. A painful, interlocked twist of the deepest ink and the purest milk.
You never last long, Brother. You know that I am much too powerful. And better I destroy you now, right? You would only morph into my likeness the more you fed. The expansion of his blue eyes narrowed the slightest. This world only needs one of me, you surely understand. That’s all it takes. Then we will be reborn again elsewhere… Now my suffocating aura swirled around him, the pink of my belittling stare reflecting in his clear skies so that a hint of lavender shadowed the glass of his own disturbed gaze. He began to cough and choke. But pity is it, that you are always born to die by my side. Pity that you are offered life only to have that parcel snatched away as soon as it touches your finger tips.
Please, Sister. I can’t hear anymore
You fare no better than these lowly humans! Just as petty and unprincipled, just as impressionable and easily chained as they! I showed my sharpened teeth in a grinning growl. So after I put you in your place to rot, it will be I to mold the one known as Jonghyun as my pawn. I will overburden him under my spell. I will use him, and he will have no idea of his servitude, hahaha. As they never do. Not until the end.
Burning mist evaporated from his ducts. The frustrated steam, infused with my vapor of dull detriment and graveyard odes, sizzled as a sickening stench into the bed springs. A tinge of red marring his pure white, smoky body.
So don’t make yourself too comfortable I hissed Once I am stronger, you will not suffer long under my claw before you die…Brother.
Yet he remained quiet afterwards, averting those angry, teary eyes. He knows, so he will not push the issue.
He knows he is always marked as prey.
And he should know, by now, that his askances of mercy will fall upon deaf ears: Hope is for desperate fools. His conquest is my duty, as is every other living thing’s.
For I am infinite.
I am invincible.
I am the black death…
I am the black lie.
_______
“Hyung.”
Jonghyun stilled at the deep address. He’d been reaching for something in the fridge, something refreshing for his dry throat, something warm to rout his nightmares and knock him out.
He waited, not even bothering to turn the sleep thickened voice, his heart rate accelerating even though on the outside, he seemed more or less tame.
The shadow moved closer, glow from the fridge slightly revealing the owner of the familiar husk.
“…Is there something wrong?”
There was a tired sigh, a half snort. “So you assume something is wrong with me because you find me in the kitchen in the middle of the night?”
“No. But I assume something is wrong when I hear whimpering and crying the next room over.”
Jonghyun glowered into the fridge’s confines, muttering a quiet fuck. Not bothered to turn on the microwave and make more noise, he swiped the nearest drink out of the top self and swung the door closed. The warm milk would have done wonders, yet now, with the younger boy’s clingy concern, it probably would have turned his stomach sour.
But its not like Minho made it his business to be the first to know. It just happened that way.
“Again…” Minho stared coolly as Jonghyun downed the drink in strong gulps. “Something you need to talk about?”
Stubborn gazes in Siamese lock; neither one backed down in the deafening silence.
“Aish, what would you care?” Jonghyun finally huffed when the he let the bottle down, wiping his mouth with his wrist. He rolled his eyes, yet the edgy shakes were vines sprouting under his skin. “Do I tunnel up your ass when you’re acting like a weirdo?”
There was peculiar squint from the rapper, mostly from Jonghyun’s choice of wording, but then he shook his head and shrugged. “Okay. I’m not asking anymore. I’m demanding. Tell me what’s going on or no one is leaving this kitchen.” He leisurely ghosted his way to the middle of the floor where tile met carpet. “Whether you take that as a bluff or not,” he dangled in that low, even whisper.
The bottle slammed to the counter top. “There’s nothing wrong with me,” he spat.
Under his bed, a crafty, silvery smile. Out sprouted a snub of an arm from the black mass.
“You’ve been moody lately. More than usual. You stay in your room all day when you don’t have schedule.”
“ And? I’ve got a lot on my mind lately. Doesn’t mean I have a problem.” He drew near to the tall Sphinx obstructing his way, chin raised high. His head throbbed in aching sync with the main arteries in his thighs-the same smarting pain from the running he’d done several nights ago.
A dark hand materializes, clawed fingers flexing in glee.
Minho glared down at him, lifting his powerful arms up, biceps bare and muscles spasming faintly under the smooth skin. An under toned threat if Jonghyun ever saw one. “Your sister is calling us. Which means you aren’t picking up your phone.”
“What part of ‘a lot on my mind’ do you not understand?”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t fucking do anything. Now move,” Jonghyun growled, going to shove one of the younger’s arms out of the way. It barely budged, Minho’s veined hand clutching the wall with a vengeance.
Another arm popped out. She sneered over at her brother, who was balled in the corner of the bed watching her with his wide, lacquer blue eyes. The only limbs he had were his legs, and it had been a privileged stroke to receive them: the small one, Taemin, had lied about who’d left the milk sitting out and the quiet one, Onew, had appeared suspiciously nonplussed when questioned about his “cold”; then, with the gift of an impromptu tongue, explained with his ashen, grainy smile to their manager that he was fine other than being a little worse for wear…when really, he couldn’t have felt more horrid. But stressing about a little food poisoning wasn’t going to promote their new music video.
Both lies were small enough to strengthen him and do nothing for her, yet this night was proving a fruitful disadvantage to his life span…
Minho suddenly grinned. Something Jonghyun could have gone without, seeing as the grin plastered on his normally stoic face didn’t look natural. Or friendly.
“You went out again. You went there.”
Deep brown marbles for eyes turned into momentary suns before Jonghyun harnessed back his hard expression. “I didn’t go anywhere, and if I did, I certainly would be caught dead in that dump.”
Dead silence. Minho didn’t even have to grab a hand and access the scabs in between Jonghyun’s fingers. He’d seen them countless times, while they were together in public or recording, even when they sat around discussing and jotting new lyrics. Especially then. They were the telltale signs of something only he could digest.
“What happened hyung?” Minho asked in a sweet, condescending voice. Again, Jonghyun didn’t need this. Not now. If anything, he was getting a little woozy, and perhaps lying down again would coax him into sleep.
“Its not your business.”
“So you did go.”
“I said I didn’t!” Jonghyun punched the bulky clothesline in front of him. Minho’s hand slipped a bit as he grunted, yet no cigar. “Move,” he continued, shaking his hand. “Before I do something I regret.”
The attacked arm merely flexed defiantly. “Do you regret going back?” was the smirked whisper.
“I would have no qualms about biting the shit out of you.”
“Go ahead.” Something wicked, something challenging flashed in the taller boy’s hidden gaze. “You know, I didn’t think you had it in you. Going back there. Why, Jonghyun?”
Jonghyun stewed silently. Bruising Minho’s face would only stir up controversy, attention and a lot of lip he didn’t want to stoop under.
His fists curled tighter.
Minho licked his lips, chuckling incredulously as he glanced off to the side, then back at the brooding figure in front of him with a cocked head. “I just wonder how you escaped without me there. Its just as unbelievable as them letting you escape.”
“I wasn’t there. I didn’t do anything, and you’re really pissing me off right now.”
“That’s just fine, actually.”
Jonghyun let out a cracked squawk as he flew back. Almost to the wall, where vials of spices proudly occupied a rack in organized finesse. Just as quickly, Minho was upon him, pinning him to the wall with a hated grip to his neck. The other hand clamped to Jonghyun shoulder and his hips cuffed nearly penetrably to the elder’s.
“Why did you go back?” Minho breathed calmly, nose testing Jonghyun’s in gentle knocks. Jonghyun, meanwhile, had no choice but to meet those gaping, accusing voids.
She had all of her limbs now. Bless the tall one, for sparing her the dirty work of making Jonghyun come clean-or rather, unclean. He’d do well as her next host. Chanting an ancient mantra, she advanced upon the glowing white ball with a pert sigh of content. The ball whimpered and trembled…
“You don’t have to lie, hyung. I think I can sort of understand why you’d go back. Because see, once you’re there for the first time, its hard to ignore the call to come back. I’ve been there, what you’re feeling now. Your suffering. A taste is all it takes. After that…” Minho blew into Jonghyun’s parted lips, chilling the immobilized man’s gums. Like lightning, his grin returned suggestively against those same lips as he rolled into Jonghyun’s stiffened lower body. “….you always want more.”
It was embarrassing, his tentative gasp. “Minho…get off…”
The finger constricting Jonghyun’s freshly shaven neck played a scale on his prickly skin. “I’m sure you heard that a lot while you were there.”
“I..I-I promise you…I swear I didn’t go. I didn’t…I would never jeopardize…M-Minho-”
“Was it better this time around? Was it more…hands on? What did you like about it this time, hm?” He pushed his forehead closer to the warmer man’s. What he lacked in heated interrogation-with his monotone questions-, he made up for with brute tactic. His hips slammed forward, a cruel edge hooked on, “Did it make you feel good? Did you love it?” when he spoke again. Making Jonghyun’s teeth click, hindering his case totally invalid.
He began to sigh: “I didn’t-
“You’re so fucking pathetic, Jonghyun. Thought you could hide this forever, didn’t you?”
“Hide w…” But the words died in his throat. They died, and scrambled as they rose into his skull to turn into spine crawling epiphanies.
“I’ve known all along. And I have to say-disappointed you didn’t have me enough trust to confide in me. “Minho pouted, his lips sticking to Jonghyun’s. “I thought we were friends.”
“Listen-
“But I think I’m more upset with your carelessness,” he rasped sourly, the fumes of forgery of concern, Minho’s insincerity for the elder’s misuse of morals wafting into Jonghyun’s nostrils like a toxin. “I’m in this shit for the money Jonghyun, as you well know. You are, and so’s that annoying Daegu fag, as well as the brat and the pushover. Can you guess who gets thrown out on their asses when you fuck this shit up for good?”
“Why the fuck are you doing this?!” Jonghyun suddenly exploded; and in doing so, he almost succeeded in prying the digits from his now-indented neck. The fight bubbled up in his gut, like it was waiting for the right moment to ignite. When the prying didn’t work, he resorted to propelling against those broad, burly shoulders. With all his might, with all his frantic strength, adrenaline fuzzing his sanity.
“Quit showing out,” Minho berated coldly. He squeezed harder, both hips and armor-plated hand. “I’d much rather take the disgusting crying.”
“This isn’t fair! I haven’t done anything wrong, please!”
Lightning flooded the dorm, emphasis on the clumped pair. The thunder that followed, if one were acutely attuned, singed into silence with a hint of a muffled, bloodcurdling scream…..
Her gaping maw snapped shut, milky ectoplasm dripping a thing trail down her chin. Gliding away from the empty corner under the bed, she greedily suckled her brother’s remains from each and every inky finger. Pinky first, as was customary….
Jonghyun took that opportunity to burst away from the taller boy. Before Minho could grab him, he struck the pots hanging over the stove, hoping the clanging din would alert the others out of their slumbers.
Which had no reason not to work. Key ran out half naked, probably disturbed from a night piss. The living room lamp flipped on. “The hell is going….oh God. You clumsy shits couldn’t save this until later?”
“I saw a bug,” Jonghyun explained lamely.
Minho only stared at him in blank dissatisfaction; attitude stemming from his foiled efforts, preventing him from becoming Jonghyun’s alibi.
Yet Key brushed the claim off and ignored Minho altogether. “Whatever. If something spilled I’m not cleaning it up.” The he stuffed himself back in his sweats and trampled back into the hallway with a yawn, brushing shoulders with Taemin, then Jinki as they stumbled past. “False alarm, late ones,” Key supplied loudly before he slipped back into his room, rolling his eyes.
As Taemin about-faced with sucked teeth, the leader groggily watched Jonghyun and Minho shuffling around with the pots. Careful not to touch each other, avoiding eye contact. It wasn’t unusual at all for him to be so perceptive in such a sorry, snotty, and exhausted state, and their behaviors reeked of bad blood from the past…
…he wouldn’t get involved this time.
His yawn a bit more humble, Jinki murmured “not again” and padded back to his room with Taemin.
The retrieved silence didn’t last long.
Déjà vu. Jonghyun had paused with the deep voice again. As he was about to tread back to his room.
“Not caught dead there, right?” The owner of the voice snickered huskily, spiraling into a darker octave after a brief stall. “Don’t jinx yourself, buddy.”
However, Jonghyun was done. He was done even before the words gnashed into his back. This was over.
With a jagged “Fuck you” he hurriedly slinked back to his room. Shut the door with the freshly scrubbed paneling and the leftover rust prints. Crawled into bed and turned on his side.
Under his bed, her larger body crouched to the floor. Pink balls slitted with a pulsing black hovered and danced in the darkness. Tongue swiping her chops.
Lying there defeated, Jonghyun twitched at the faint sound of cackling-surely his imagination-… and vaguely wondered why he felt a fear that didn’t associate with Minho, or his current transgressions. Just from walking into his room. A fear that was his, but definitely wasn’t.
Jonghyun…
Jonghyun…
The bed skirt swooshed up. His eyes lurked under the bed…skimming the nothing there.
Funny, why did the frazzled child inside him go to seek under his bed first?
Sighing angrily, he brought himself back up and tossed himself to his side again. Lids tight, mouth thin, blankets up to his chin. The red baby bruises on his neck stung ominously. He decided that before he completely went crazy, he’d better just clock out.
I didn’t go, I didn’t go, I didn’t do anything…
Something isn’t right. There was a strike of lightning and thunder. Just one of each, yet it isn’t raining. Not even a premonitory howling wind…
Jonghyun curls into himself, bracing himself for some reason. Awaiting the cruel assail.
Somehow, it is familiar.
Something…isn’t right.
Jonghyun…
Well done, Jonghyun…
His eyes clamped tighter.
The glaring pink eyes blink back open.
Lips stretch into a sharp, bedeviling smile.