Middlemen | #8.1
Eight: From past to present
Jinki remembers simple mornings in the orphanage; a memory burning bright similar to the yellow of the sun streaming through the windows. When he was fourteen Yunho would gather every orphan in the dining room. The ceilings were high, a concave view from below, with linings of gold that rusted over time. The wooden benches and tables were pushed to the side and in the center single chairs would be filed for the orphans to sit side by side.
Jonghyun would be the first to wake up and he would awaken Jinki by fluttering the tips of his fingers over his eyelids, the best alarm clock in Jinki’s world. Jinki was never a morning person but every morning became perfect once Jonghyun stopped sneaking back early in the day to go back to his shared room.
Jonghyun would always sit by Jinki but ever since Yunho caught them whispering for the duration of the morning gathering he made it a habit to separate the two even for that small hour. So they went their separate ways, Jinki taking the front part while Jonghyun sat a few seats behind. And it might have been silly of Jinki, however he would always sense a burning in his nape, a symbol of Jonghyun’s eyes on him, making sure that Jinki knew that he was always close by.
When Yunho gave the signal they would all stand from their seats. Yunho would announce a song, chosen from the list of prayer books for them to hum together. When Jinki practiced the songs alone in his room he felt foolish. Hearing his voice solely was torture for him. But along with the rest of the orphans, it was so gentle and soothing that it made his morning that much better. In the middle of the song he would hear the faintest of bustling from the kitchen where the food is being prepared. There was the smell of chocolate as well, drifting into the room and making his mind wander, his mouth water. He would keep on singing regardless of his thoughts.
After the song has been done Yunho would stand before them and give his morning speech. Jinki could guess even as he sat at the very front that every boy in the back was falling asleep. The room was too wide and no matter how loud Yunho spoke his voice would only come to the students in the back as echoing murmurs. A microphone would have been nice.
Yunho’s voice was just as comforting as the scent of food surrounds Jinki. He would speak of promises for a wonderful week (granted that the boys are on their best behavior), of days when they would begin learning this and that and field trips here and there… Yunho granted them the things to look forward to in the morning in addition to the reasons they already had.
Jinki never really assumed anything vile of the man. He kept his reputation as clean as his suits, as his smile and as his speeches. He was a man with a dignified aura that no amount of rust could tarnish. However, even the most pleasant of smiles can send you to the depths of hell.
A perfect example would be the situation Jinki found in front of him. In the dim of the light, Yunho was a complete contrast to the man in the orphanage who would stand before them, his chin held high in the morning light. There was no more warmth in Jinki’s hands, no color in his cheeks. He felt drained of anything that can pull him back to his senses and Yunho was not at all the person he expected to see from behind the doors he pushed open.
“Look at you.” Yunho spoke first, but it wasn’t out of discomfort. He actually looked quite at ease, a complete contrast to Jinki’s expression with his eyes wide, lips slightly parted. He was still trying to decide whether this was all real. Because everything made no sense to begin with and now seeing Yunho here; Jinki couldn’t find the loose ends that needed to be tied together. There was nothing for him to work with, nothing to begin.
The couch from which Yunho lifts himself off stretches and squeaks from underneath him. Once in a standing position, Yunho picks at the cuffs of his sleeves before placing one hand in the dip of his pocket, the other running over one of his brows with his forefinger. He went near the young boy that he has taken credit in raising, wearing the same smile he always did, but Jinki found it terrifying under the circumstances.
“You’ve grown up, Jinki-yah.” He inspects Jinki from his towering position, staring down the boy whose eyes can’t move away from him. “Victoria fixed you up good.”
Yunho swipes his fingers below the boy’s fringe and on impulse Jinki, to his surprise, does not stir away, instead catches Yunho’s wrist in one tight grip, eyes never leaving the man.
“We have a lot to catch up on.” Yunho merely smirks before pulling away from Jinki’s hand. Jinki allows his wrist to slip away, somehow losing his strength again. “I know that you’ve been busy since entering the Underground so I won’t be taking up much of your time.”
Yunho walks over to the other side of the room in smooth strides, hands back in his pockets. He faces the opposite window, back to Jinki as he speaks again. “I want you to do something for me.”
Jinki doesn’t say anything.
“I need you to bring your father to me.”
That’s when his resolve falters, breaking down all together because it was never stable to begin with.
“What?”
“Your father?” Yunho spins around, smile no longer evident as he stares at Jinki from across the room. “I want him here. Bring him to me.”
“My. My father?” Jinki’s eyes narrow. “My father’s-you know about his death, Yunho. You told me where his grave was. You know he’s dead.”
“You know he’s dead. I made it out to make it seem that way too in order to keep you from running from the orphanage and now, I’m letting you know that he’s still alive. I want you to bring him to me.”
“What?”
Yunho sighs. “Oh, Jinki. I guess I pegged you to be a lot smarter than you actually are.”
“Yunho-“
“I thought you would catch on soon enough, but this is a testimony to your youth and naivety, I guess. Qualities that never dissolved within you. Can you honestly not put the pieces together yourself?”
Jinki is staring at a space between the window and the wall, not really seeing anything apart from the images in his head as he tries to make sense of Yunho’s statements.
“Your father. His interest in chemistry. His sudden death. You being sent in the orphanage with a natural talent for your father’s capabilities.” Yunho starts walking towards Jinki again as he proceeds. “And you just happen to land here.” Yunho leans in until he’s just in front of the shell of Jinki’s ear. “You’ve probably been trying to rid yourself of the Underground since you arrived. What you don’t know is that your father and I built this empire from the ground up.”
Jinki’s breath hitches.
Yunho pulls away and inspects the boy through amused eyes. A smile tugs at one corner of his lips and he tilts his head. “You really had no idea.” He decides. “Were you that blinded by Jonghyun to see anything else past his promises.”
Jinki’s eyes round up at the mention of Jonghyun’s name.
Yunho finds this interesting. “Ah, Kim Jonghyun. See, I always knew the two of you were up to something. And that him being adopted first would make a whole lot of a difference. If it weren’t for him you probably wouldn’t be in this position right now.”
“Just tell me.” Jinki has had enough. Being treated like a fool by Jonghyun was fine. But being treated like a piece of property by the man he came to know and trust was far worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined. “Just tell me what you want.”
Yunho grins, all the way to his eyes. “Good boy.”
~o~
Jung Yunho, Lee Jiyeun, Jinki’s father, and Park Hyoseon, Jinki’s mother, started out as coworkers. Working in the same hospital for months on end created a bond, allowing all three to easily fall into a relationship based on their knowledge. It wasn’t long after their new found friendship that they started to discuss what could be done with mixtures and pure drugs.
Conversations soon turned into drafts, calculations, measurements, stocks, and give or take a few months, the Shrine was born. In the testing of the Shrine they hired a friend to freely walk into the whole testing process with full awareness of the effects. They studied how far the Shrine can be taken and how far it can live within a person. It was a dangerous drug that derived nothing but interest from Jinki’s father. Yunho had different plans.
In the beginning when Yunho had spoken to Jiyeun about his proposal to sell the drug and accumulate millions, Jiyeun was set on categorizing the idea as golden. Until he discovered just how the effects could ruin someone’s life, how it can make people forget what matters to them the most in order to live a life where they would not have to worry about anything but getting more of the Shrine.
Jiyeun demanded that the production of the drug be stopped but Yunho was drunk with the idea of the Shrine’s spread towards the higher people. Hyoseon remained quiet throughout the exchange, forever living in the shadow of Yunho and his dreams. Whenever they spoke of the plans they had for their future like marriage and a family and children it was Yunho who kept talking while Hyoseon nodded quietly in agreement.
Jiyeun knew of Hyoseon’s discontent and despite his loathing towards Yunho he never proceeded with a secret affair with Hyoseon with the intention of stealing her away from Yunho. He just wanted her.Soon, they met in quiet restaurants, faraway beaches, places that Yunho would never find them. It was about the same time that Jiyeun began to hide from the man he once called his friend.
It was a few more months after their continued meetings that Hyoseon finally received the news of her pregnancy. She was baffled, afraid and worried of whom the child would belong to but Yunho always knew it was his. Who else would it belong too? He never doubted for a second, the smiles Hyoseon passed him. Jinki got that smile from his mother; those traitorous lips would not be mistaken for anyone else’s.
Hyoseon was still pregnant and already living with Yunho when he found out that he was sterile, that there was no way that he could take part in the conception of his proclaimed lover. Upon knowing this information he confronted her and she didn’t even flinch, didn’t lie and for that he was thankful for her candor. She left that night and knew that Yunho would someday seek reprisal, but for now she would live with Jiyeun and their child. It was the only family she knew.
Their son, Jinki, grew up surrounded with their works, their love of chemistry, their passion. He was a smart boy who didn’t want to apply himself to chemistry solely, an understandable quality of a boy his age. Jiyeun gave him books and passed him the tricks up his sleeve, tricks that he knew Jinki would make use of one day, when the time calls for it, when all is settled.
And it is when Jinki turns four that everything was planned out exactly the way his father had planned for things to go. Yunho knew where they had been all this time and was coming for them, their once quiet and peaceful life now shaken. It was simple so long as every step has been crossed. The burning of the house, Jinki’s escape, and his parents’ supposed death.
Yunho settled with Jinki, a tiny boy with his hands over his face, crying a few feet away from the burning house. With the orphanage that he purchased with his riches, Yunho took Jinki in without any intention of looking like a father figure, but still being able to surveillance Jinki at a close distance, not let him wander too far.
Victoria had gathered a faultless team of middlemen and the Shrine was protected in its delivery. However things started to go astray, blanks were being drawn and shipments of the other divisions were being tampered with. Yunho knew that he was alive. And that he wanted Jinki safe. He must not be far away. And Yunho didn’t enjoy the idea that someone else was aware of the Shrine’s formula apart from himself.
“What are you saying?” Jinki finds his voice in the midst of Yunho’s explanation.
“I’m saying that this whole operation was based on you, Lee Jinki. On you and your father’s death.”
Jinki can’t think straight. “You bastard.”
“Oh, you have no idea just how much of a bastard I am. Yet.” Yunho half laughs. “Because I think that in the years that I’ve known you, it is safe to say that even if you did know of your parents’ whereabouts, you won’t lead me to them eagerly. And your life being put on the line for theirs… no. That won’t work as well as I want it to. So how about I make you a new deal, Jinki-yah?”
Jinki swallows hard, preparing himself for the worst.
“How about,” Yunho taps his chin with his forefinger. “You bring your father to me in a month or I am going to make sure that Kim Jonghyun dies a painful and slow death. And that you will be forced to watch the one person who stuck through everything with you bleed to his last drop.”
“Fuck you.” Jinki says it so menacingly, like it was going to cause pain to the man who didn’t even put any emotion to his words.
“On the contrary, Jinki. You’re the one who’s fucked.” Yunho winks. “Unless you play your cards right. I will hurt those around you. I will hurt those who you have come to love. I will break you until you’re down to your last ounce of sanity. And if you do not want to die only half a man you will bring me your parents and die with them the way that you are now.”
~o~
Jinki doesn’t say anything in the car ride home and Victoria holds her questions. Jinki’s staring hard at the road, the blurs of the light smudging into a line and Jinki’s just wishing for something good. He can’t exactly figure out what was happening but as far as his mind was willing to make him sure of he can tell that mama bear knew close to nothing.
He could tell by the way she shut her compact mirror closed and plastered a smile on her face the moment Jinki walked out the door. She had patted his shoulder then but didn’t ask anything of the meeting. Not even how it was. It was clear to Jinki then. The underground was a chessboard and Mama Bear was simply a queen meant to protect her king. She probably had specific orders, to never question anything, to keep deals clean. But then in comes the question; why would she be so loyal to her king?
Love? That’s the obvious equation, wasn’t it? Love would solve everything because love cuts through your eyeballs and works your body for you. Love is poisonous, a drug all on its own. Jinki’s head snaps up. Wait. Drug. Loyalty.
Suddenly the walls of the car seemed too dark for the streetlights to shower on and Jinki moves his head to get a clear view of Victoria from beside him.
Victoria was beyond anything beautiful Jinki had ever seen. She’s almost unreal, with her porcelain skin and smooth, rounded cheeks, her dark hair, deep set eyes, she was a doll. Carefully crafted by the hands of God to create this vision for men to stare at but probably will never have. Although her beauty is persuasive her eyes look just about dead. It was the way she stared ahead, but looked like she wasn’t staring at anything, like she wasn’t really seeing the road, just bits of what she thought was real.
Jinki hasn’t figured out all of the stories in the house and Victoria is not excluded from that number of people. They all had a past, something to turn their back on in order to live with purpose in the Underground.
And Victoria. Well. Jinki had a hunch.
~o~
Jinki doesn’t notice the creak of his door or the dip in his mattress until Jonghyun nudges Jinki’s side with the tip of his socked foot. Jinki’s gaze strays from his father’s chemistry book splayed on his lap, previously caught in the idea that maybe there was a way to find him through the book somehow. It was a stupid idea to begin with, but Jinki was frantic and imprudent enough to try anything.
Jinki sees Jonghyun from the corner of his shoulders, lying flat on his bed, hands behind his head.
“Kibum says you skipped dinner.” Jonghyun had just gotten out of the shower, hair damp and the neckline of his shirt still matted with water. He had just gotten home from another investigation at the production. Apparently Papa Bear wanted it checked regularly now seeing as his doubts of the blanks still lie within those premises.
“I wasn’t very hungry.” Jinki doesn’t allow his stare to linger at Jonghyun. He’s got a plan and knowing what he needs to do just tears him apart.
“So what happened earlier?”
“With what?”
“Papa Bear.”
Jinki’s eyes focus even harder on the words printed on his text book. “Uhm.”
“Why did he want you?”
Jinki palms the textbook shut and settles it on the floor before shifting his weight on the bed to face Jonghyun who was still comfortably lounging on his back. Jinki catches his upper lip between his teeth, letting the skin drag over the edges as he allows it to slip past. He stares at Jonghyun’s knees, propped over one another. “I can’t tell you.”
“Oh.” Jonghyun grins. He holds up both his hands. “Well, I’m not gonna pry.”
There’s a swell in Jinki’s heart that won’t go away; a combination of worry and pain rolled up into one big hand, clawing at his insides. He understands the amount of torture Jonghyun had to go through just to make sure that he was safe. He took those measures in stride and never broke down until the last thread was cut and now, Jinki wasn’t thinking about doing the same. If anything, Jinki was thinking about the long haul.
It’s an outlandish environment to be in, an eclectic group of people put together to sell desire in a red capsule. And Jinki can only pray that the monsters don’t show up at night or that if they do Jonghyun and he will be strong enough to battle each one until they’re the only two standing. But it isn’t just the two of them now. So much is at stake and it never occurred to Jinki that he would be one of the main reasons why everything would go downhill. There were questions, millions of them, eddying in his head that he wanted answered.
But before everything he needed to make sure that when he fought this battle, he was going to fight it alone.
Ever so cautiously, Jinki edges over to Jonghyun. Jonghyun presses his weight on his elbows to lift himself up but Jinki lays his hand on Jonghyun’s chest, sending him back down, and their eyes locked. Jinki stays close, one arm around Jonghyun’s waist as he makes room for Jonghyun’s arm between the pillow and his neck. He breathes in the scent of rubbing alcohol and cheap cologne around Jonghyun’s neck, the aroma of shampoo and the soap he used since he was six, even back at the orphanage. Jonghyun was still everything that Jinki knew.
Jinki’s eyelids droop down until their relaxed and closed, his ear directly over Jonghyun’s heart. He hears the replica of the beats, the reaction of the bones and the skin as they accommodate the heart’s actions, the swallowing of Jonghyun’s throat, and the stillness of their bodies.
No matter what happens you will always feel like home to me.
~o~
It tickles when Crayons nuzzles the piece of Cheerio in Minho’s fingers, swiping it away with its mouth. Minho smiles at the bunny, mixing his own bowl of cereal and milk. It was never a habit of his to venture off into the dining room late at night for something as petty as cereal but it was all that kept him from going crazy at this moment and he had no idea why. But this scene was rather familiar to him. The dining room. Past midnight. Gom (his former bunny) by the table with him, eating the same food he was eating. His pajamas riding low. Not another soul awake in the house except for him. The lights turned low.
Sometimes, when Minho regresses he doesn’t want to come back to reality. And that has become much more frequent now that he can’t seem to focus all of his energy in the right place. Minho lets go of the spoon, the utensil clanking against the bowl as he falls on both his arms. He feels Crayons nibbling on his hair and it made him spin his head around to shoo the bunny away from making him bald.
“Not the hair, Cray. That’s where ninety percent of my appeal comes from.” He holds the bunny in both hands the same time a light, faint laugh ghosts over the room.
Minho’s head snaps up and it’s almost like one of his fantasies being relived or something. Because when he looks up he sees Jinki, pajama clad, shirt white and thin enough to accentuate his best curves, his hair a mess like he had just gotten up (which he probably just did) and a lascivious smirk lining his lips. He’s by the entrance, arms crossed over his chest. Minho can’t decide whether or not he was dreaming. He sets Crayons back on the table, exhaling slowly.
“Did I scare you?” Jinki’s voice is low and grainy. He nears the table but doesn’t sit, just stands opposite Minho who can’t help but blink up at Jinki.
“No-why are you up?”
Jinki shrugs, his eyes hooded, no longer warm like when his smile washes over his face. Something was out of the ordinary, the whole scene playing out before Minho in scattered strips of a torn picture. It didn’t make sense. Why was Jinki looking at him like that? Why was he walking along the halls alone in the middle of the night without Jonghyun? “I couldn’t sleep. I’ve developed a strange craving for something I can’t put my finger on.”
Jinki’s eyes lazily roams over Minho face, his stare so thick Minho can almost taste it like the bits of cereal stuck in his teeth. He licks his already moist lips while biting on them. When they slip from his teeth they’re tainted red and swell perfectly, enough to make Minho curious of its texture when felt with his tongue.
Jinki drags a finger over the lining of the table, tracing its mahogany outline as he walks around it, making his way towards where Minho was, the bunny forgotten and pushing the box of Cheerios over the table and spilling a pile of wheat, white rings for its nibbling feast. Minho’s too busy to care, to fathom Victoria’s displeasure when she finds out that her 60,000 Won worth dining table is being used as a 500 Won plate by a bunny.
When Jinki’s right beside Minho, allowing a foot of space in between them, Jinki places both his hands over the table behind him and hoists himself up (another factor that will not please Victoria, Minho amends but can’t care enough to push Jinki away). Jinki’s feet leave the floor, tips of his toes dangling over it as he places himself comfortably over the surface of the mahogany, his eyes never leaving Minho.
Minho swallows the imaginary lump in his throat, his gaze skirting over the dip in Jinki’s shirt where his collar is prettily seducing him, the covered skin permitting Minho’s imagination to run wild with thoughts that only feed his groin. His pajamas feel five times smaller, straining against his unpremeditated erection.
“You should go to bed, Jinki.” Minho whispers hoarsely, forcing his gaze away from Jinki’s crotch, made available for his stare on the table.
“But I’m hungry.”
Minho takes his bowl in one hand and rises from his seat, Crayons now off the table and wandering on the floor having filled itself with enough Cheerios to last it a month. “Kitchen’s wide open. Help yourself.”
simple math -- manchester orchestra
Minho feels Jinki’s hands, fingers circling his boney wrist and holding him in place. Minho stops. What was he supposed to do? He wants to pull away and it won’t be much of a challenge considering his strength in comparison to Jinki’s gentle touches. But he was of no competitor to Jinki. He never was. Jinki tugs on his wrist, pulls him to stand in front of him, until they’re breaths are mingling. Jinki’s chin is tilted up, hands running over Minho’s hips as he positions them in between his legs. He shoves his own hips forward, closer to the border of the table, eyes on Minho looking down at him.
“I thought you didn’t want me.” Minho’s breath is slightly chilled from the milk in the cereal, his eyes hooded and his cheeks dusted with allusions of scarlet. Minho was no match for Jinki. This was a problem. The joints of his knees go weak when Jinki places a hand over his cheek, thumb brushing against his skin in tiny, back and forth strokes.
“You and me both.” Jinki’s eyes are half closed, lips ready to connect with Minho when Minho halts him with his hand flying towards Jinki’s neck, fingers curling around his neck as if wanting to lead him to asphyxiation.
“Liar.” He hisses. Both their eyes are wide open now, Jinki’s hands automatically go over Minho’s hand on his neck, his eyes pleading. But pleading for what? What was this? Where was this coming from?
There was an eerie look of uncertainty tainting Jinki’s eyes, a dash of fear and maybe, in the browns of his irises crosses of sadness, emotions no nearer to the lust clouding Minho’s common sense. This was far from what was right, far from the safety he always found in his room, away from Jinki, away from what could be the death of him. He just needed to distance himself. He needed to find a way to crawl out of this unspoken pleas spilling from Jinki’s eyes as opposed to his lips. This was reckless and Minho was anything but that. He knew better. He had to admit, there were things that he had already pushed himself into doing, into thinking, that he can’t erase, but there lies the scarring reality that he was no wiser than the rest of his colleagues, that he was just as human and young as he was acting.
Minho doesn’t realize Jinki’s hands sneaking up his arms, hands locking behind his neck until Jinki’s pulling him in and.
Their lips meet.
Soft. So soft.
He can’t help but sink.
His eyes close. His breathing hitches. His hips move forward. Then Jinki’s pulling him down on the table, over Jinki on his back, Minho’s arms lying flat on either surface of Jinki’s head. Minho grinds his hips involuntarily, finding it the only appropriate response to the feel of Jinki’s length digging against his stomach through layers of fabric, a hindrance that won’t be there for long.
Minho places his weight on his arms, knowing full well why Jinki was hauling him up, the mistakes that they were about to commit. Minho isn’t really throwing caution to the winds. How can he when he kept ignoring caution’s cries?
His knees go on the table, the wood creaking as a response to the added weight. Minho’s hand vindictively presses into Jinki’s hips until he can sense Jinki’s hip bones greeting his fingertips under the downy skin. One of his thighs pushes forward into Jinki’s crotch and he releases a soft, painful groan, Minho catching it in his mouth.
Jinki rolls Minho over on his back, and for a minute Minho panics, thinking that Jinki’s finally changed his mind. Instead, Jinki raises his head for air and abruptly stares into Minho’s eyes once again. His thumb traces the red swell of Minho’s lips and Minho looks away, unsure of the remorse in the pit of his stomach. Have you ever been so torn to the point of ruins? When there are no exit signs only tunnels leading to even darker corners?
Jinki’s mouth latches onto the expanse of skin on Minho’s neck with a little bit of teeth and lot of tongue. Jinki’s palms are sweaty, sliding up Minho’s side from underneath his shirt and peeking from his neckline. Jinki bucks his hips, friction is achieved and both boys let out a strained gasp, Minho’s much lower and Jinki’s grainy.
Jinki pushes himself up on his knees, still in between Minho’s legs which were parted. Minho sits up with Jinki, arms behind him as they balance his weight. Jinki peels his shirt off, slips it past his shoulders and Minho does the same. When Minho’s shirt hits the floor Jinki lightly pushes him back down on the table, his hand trailing down from his chest down to the garter of his pajamas. Minho lifts his hips up when he senses Jinki tugging at them, allowing them to skim off easily.
Jinki palms his half hard state through his boxers, applying light pressure, teasing in the best sense of the art. Minho’s eyes shut, all sorts of incoherencies escaping his plush lips as Jinki works with his sounds, determining where Minho was most sensitive. Minho muffles his moans by folding his arm over his mouth, his teeth digging into the inner bend of his elbow, eyes shut tight, crinkling at the sides.
His stomach sinks with his generous intake of oxygen, his ribs in visible light lines below his chest, his hips reluctantly meeting Jinki’s palm. Jinki’s tongue runs over his lips at the sight. He balances his weight on one hand in order to hover over Minho, pushing his arm away to capture his lips in another torturously slow kiss, nothing but dragging lips in an awkward fit, slippery tongue and occasional sucking.
Jinki’s hand slips past the waistband, fingers ghosting over the sensitive head, slightly damp with precum. Minho was more than ready for him, his cock was practically begging to be touched. There’s a question in Minho’s mind and it concersn Jonghyun. However relevant that question was nothing meant more than Jinki’s delicious touches, covering his length, lathering him in his own precum.
His hand went over the head, dragging the skin up and down, his body moving with his gestures and Minho can’t seem to get his breathing right. He grips Jinki by the shoulders, nails digging into his skin, adding crescent marks that Jinki will probably have to explain to Jonghyun when he gets back to bed.
Then he feels a finger skimming the skin near his entrance and Minho finally looks at Jinki and pulls away.
“No.” Minho whispers in the shell of Jinki’s ear before shifting his weight and going behind the boy. He pushes Jinki on his stomach over the table, lies on his back, skin to skin. He pulls at Jinki’s pajamas from behind and repeats the gesture Jinki was about to do to him while whispering in the same ear. “If we’re doing this, I wanna do this right.”
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Jinki remembers simple mornings in the orphanage; a memory burning bright similar to the yellow of the sun streaming through the windows. When he was fourteen Yunho would gather every orphan in the dining room. The ceilings were high, a concave view from below, with linings of gold that rusted over time. The wooden benches and tables were pushed to the side and in the center single chairs would be filed for the orphans to sit side by side.
Jonghyun would be the first to wake up and he would awaken Jinki by fluttering the tips of his fingers over his eyelids, the best alarm clock in Jinki’s world. Jinki was never a morning person but every morning became perfect once Jonghyun stopped sneaking back early in the day to go back to his shared room.
Jonghyun would always sit by Jinki but ever since Yunho caught them whispering for the duration of the morning gathering he made it a habit to separate the two even for that small hour. So they went their separate ways, Jinki taking the front part while Jonghyun sat a few seats behind. And it might have been silly of Jinki, however he would always sense a burning in his nape, a symbol of Jonghyun’s eyes on him, making sure that Jinki knew that he was always close by.
When Yunho gave the signal they would all stand from their seats. Yunho would announce a song, chosen from the list of prayer books for them to hum together. When Jinki practiced the songs alone in his room he felt foolish. Hearing his voice solely was torture for him. But along with the rest of the orphans, it was so gentle and soothing that it made his morning that much better. In the middle of the song he would hear the faintest of bustling from the kitchen where the food is being prepared. There was the smell of chocolate as well, drifting into the room and making his mind wander, his mouth water. He would keep on singing regardless of his thoughts.
After the song has been done Yunho would stand before them and give his morning speech. Jinki could guess even as he sat at the very front that every boy in the back was falling asleep. The room was too wide and no matter how loud Yunho spoke his voice would only come to the students in the back as echoing murmurs. A microphone would have been nice.
Yunho’s voice was just as comforting as the scent of food surrounds Jinki. He would speak of promises for a wonderful week (granted that the boys are on their best behavior), of days when they would begin learning this and that and field trips here and there… Yunho granted them the things to look forward to in the morning in addition to the reasons they already had.
Jinki never really assumed anything vile of the man. He kept his reputation as clean as his suits, as his smile and as his speeches. He was a man with a dignified aura that no amount of rust could tarnish. However, even the most pleasant of smiles can send you to the depths of hell.
A perfect example would be the situation Jinki found in front of him. In the dim of the light, Yunho was a complete contrast to the man in the orphanage who would stand before them, his chin held high in the morning light. There was no more warmth in Jinki’s hands, no color in his cheeks. He felt drained of anything that can pull him back to his senses and Yunho was not at all the person he expected to see from behind the doors he pushed open.
“Look at you.” Yunho spoke first, but it wasn’t out of discomfort. He actually looked quite at ease, a complete contrast to Jinki’s expression with his eyes wide, lips slightly parted. He was still trying to decide whether this was all real. Because everything made no sense to begin with and now seeing Yunho here; Jinki couldn’t find the loose ends that needed to be tied together. There was nothing for him to work with, nothing to begin.
The couch from which Yunho lifts himself off stretches and squeaks from underneath him. Once in a standing position, Yunho picks at the cuffs of his sleeves before placing one hand in the dip of his pocket, the other running over one of his brows with his forefinger. He went near the young boy that he has taken credit in raising, wearing the same smile he always did, but Jinki found it terrifying under the circumstances.
“You’ve grown up, Jinki-yah.” He inspects Jinki from his towering position, staring down the boy whose eyes can’t move away from him. “Victoria fixed you up good.”
Yunho swipes his fingers below the boy’s fringe and on impulse Jinki, to his surprise, does not stir away, instead catches Yunho’s wrist in one tight grip, eyes never leaving the man.
“We have a lot to catch up on.” Yunho merely smirks before pulling away from Jinki’s hand. Jinki allows his wrist to slip away, somehow losing his strength again. “I know that you’ve been busy since entering the Underground so I won’t be taking up much of your time.”
Yunho walks over to the other side of the room in smooth strides, hands back in his pockets. He faces the opposite window, back to Jinki as he speaks again. “I want you to do something for me.”
Jinki doesn’t say anything.
“I need you to bring your father to me.”
That’s when his resolve falters, breaking down all together because it was never stable to begin with.
“What?”
“Your father?” Yunho spins around, smile no longer evident as he stares at Jinki from across the room. “I want him here. Bring him to me.”
“My. My father?” Jinki’s eyes narrow. “My father’s-you know about his death, Yunho. You told me where his grave was. You know he’s dead.”
“You know he’s dead. I made it out to make it seem that way too in order to keep you from running from the orphanage and now, I’m letting you know that he’s still alive. I want you to bring him to me.”
“What?”
Yunho sighs. “Oh, Jinki. I guess I pegged you to be a lot smarter than you actually are.”
“Yunho-“
“I thought you would catch on soon enough, but this is a testimony to your youth and naivety, I guess. Qualities that never dissolved within you. Can you honestly not put the pieces together yourself?”
Jinki is staring at a space between the window and the wall, not really seeing anything apart from the images in his head as he tries to make sense of Yunho’s statements.
“Your father. His interest in chemistry. His sudden death. You being sent in the orphanage with a natural talent for your father’s capabilities.” Yunho starts walking towards Jinki again as he proceeds. “And you just happen to land here.” Yunho leans in until he’s just in front of the shell of Jinki’s ear. “You’ve probably been trying to rid yourself of the Underground since you arrived. What you don’t know is that your father and I built this empire from the ground up.”
Jinki’s breath hitches.
Yunho pulls away and inspects the boy through amused eyes. A smile tugs at one corner of his lips and he tilts his head. “You really had no idea.” He decides. “Were you that blinded by Jonghyun to see anything else past his promises.”
Jinki’s eyes round up at the mention of Jonghyun’s name.
Yunho finds this interesting. “Ah, Kim Jonghyun. See, I always knew the two of you were up to something. And that him being adopted first would make a whole lot of a difference. If it weren’t for him you probably wouldn’t be in this position right now.”
“Just tell me.” Jinki has had enough. Being treated like a fool by Jonghyun was fine. But being treated like a piece of property by the man he came to know and trust was far worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined. “Just tell me what you want.”
Yunho grins, all the way to his eyes. “Good boy.”
~o~
Jung Yunho, Lee Jiyeun, Jinki’s father, and Park Hyoseon, Jinki’s mother, started out as coworkers. Working in the same hospital for months on end created a bond, allowing all three to easily fall into a relationship based on their knowledge. It wasn’t long after their new found friendship that they started to discuss what could be done with mixtures and pure drugs.
Conversations soon turned into drafts, calculations, measurements, stocks, and give or take a few months, the Shrine was born. In the testing of the Shrine they hired a friend to freely walk into the whole testing process with full awareness of the effects. They studied how far the Shrine can be taken and how far it can live within a person. It was a dangerous drug that derived nothing but interest from Jinki’s father. Yunho had different plans.
In the beginning when Yunho had spoken to Jiyeun about his proposal to sell the drug and accumulate millions, Jiyeun was set on categorizing the idea as golden. Until he discovered just how the effects could ruin someone’s life, how it can make people forget what matters to them the most in order to live a life where they would not have to worry about anything but getting more of the Shrine.
Jiyeun demanded that the production of the drug be stopped but Yunho was drunk with the idea of the Shrine’s spread towards the higher people. Hyoseon remained quiet throughout the exchange, forever living in the shadow of Yunho and his dreams. Whenever they spoke of the plans they had for their future like marriage and a family and children it was Yunho who kept talking while Hyoseon nodded quietly in agreement.
Jiyeun knew of Hyoseon’s discontent and despite his loathing towards Yunho he never proceeded with a secret affair with Hyoseon with the intention of stealing her away from Yunho. He just wanted her.Soon, they met in quiet restaurants, faraway beaches, places that Yunho would never find them. It was about the same time that Jiyeun began to hide from the man he once called his friend.
It was a few more months after their continued meetings that Hyoseon finally received the news of her pregnancy. She was baffled, afraid and worried of whom the child would belong to but Yunho always knew it was his. Who else would it belong too? He never doubted for a second, the smiles Hyoseon passed him. Jinki got that smile from his mother; those traitorous lips would not be mistaken for anyone else’s.
Hyoseon was still pregnant and already living with Yunho when he found out that he was sterile, that there was no way that he could take part in the conception of his proclaimed lover. Upon knowing this information he confronted her and she didn’t even flinch, didn’t lie and for that he was thankful for her candor. She left that night and knew that Yunho would someday seek reprisal, but for now she would live with Jiyeun and their child. It was the only family she knew.
Their son, Jinki, grew up surrounded with their works, their love of chemistry, their passion. He was a smart boy who didn’t want to apply himself to chemistry solely, an understandable quality of a boy his age. Jiyeun gave him books and passed him the tricks up his sleeve, tricks that he knew Jinki would make use of one day, when the time calls for it, when all is settled.
And it is when Jinki turns four that everything was planned out exactly the way his father had planned for things to go. Yunho knew where they had been all this time and was coming for them, their once quiet and peaceful life now shaken. It was simple so long as every step has been crossed. The burning of the house, Jinki’s escape, and his parents’ supposed death.
Yunho settled with Jinki, a tiny boy with his hands over his face, crying a few feet away from the burning house. With the orphanage that he purchased with his riches, Yunho took Jinki in without any intention of looking like a father figure, but still being able to surveillance Jinki at a close distance, not let him wander too far.
Victoria had gathered a faultless team of middlemen and the Shrine was protected in its delivery. However things started to go astray, blanks were being drawn and shipments of the other divisions were being tampered with. Yunho knew that he was alive. And that he wanted Jinki safe. He must not be far away. And Yunho didn’t enjoy the idea that someone else was aware of the Shrine’s formula apart from himself.
“What are you saying?” Jinki finds his voice in the midst of Yunho’s explanation.
“I’m saying that this whole operation was based on you, Lee Jinki. On you and your father’s death.”
Jinki can’t think straight. “You bastard.”
“Oh, you have no idea just how much of a bastard I am. Yet.” Yunho half laughs. “Because I think that in the years that I’ve known you, it is safe to say that even if you did know of your parents’ whereabouts, you won’t lead me to them eagerly. And your life being put on the line for theirs… no. That won’t work as well as I want it to. So how about I make you a new deal, Jinki-yah?”
Jinki swallows hard, preparing himself for the worst.
“How about,” Yunho taps his chin with his forefinger. “You bring your father to me in a month or I am going to make sure that Kim Jonghyun dies a painful and slow death. And that you will be forced to watch the one person who stuck through everything with you bleed to his last drop.”
“Fuck you.” Jinki says it so menacingly, like it was going to cause pain to the man who didn’t even put any emotion to his words.
“On the contrary, Jinki. You’re the one who’s fucked.” Yunho winks. “Unless you play your cards right. I will hurt those around you. I will hurt those who you have come to love. I will break you until you’re down to your last ounce of sanity. And if you do not want to die only half a man you will bring me your parents and die with them the way that you are now.”
~o~
Jinki doesn’t say anything in the car ride home and Victoria holds her questions. Jinki’s staring hard at the road, the blurs of the light smudging into a line and Jinki’s just wishing for something good. He can’t exactly figure out what was happening but as far as his mind was willing to make him sure of he can tell that mama bear knew close to nothing.
He could tell by the way she shut her compact mirror closed and plastered a smile on her face the moment Jinki walked out the door. She had patted his shoulder then but didn’t ask anything of the meeting. Not even how it was. It was clear to Jinki then. The underground was a chessboard and Mama Bear was simply a queen meant to protect her king. She probably had specific orders, to never question anything, to keep deals clean. But then in comes the question; why would she be so loyal to her king?
Love? That’s the obvious equation, wasn’t it? Love would solve everything because love cuts through your eyeballs and works your body for you. Love is poisonous, a drug all on its own. Jinki’s head snaps up. Wait. Drug. Loyalty.
Suddenly the walls of the car seemed too dark for the streetlights to shower on and Jinki moves his head to get a clear view of Victoria from beside him.
Victoria was beyond anything beautiful Jinki had ever seen. She’s almost unreal, with her porcelain skin and smooth, rounded cheeks, her dark hair, deep set eyes, she was a doll. Carefully crafted by the hands of God to create this vision for men to stare at but probably will never have. Although her beauty is persuasive her eyes look just about dead. It was the way she stared ahead, but looked like she wasn’t staring at anything, like she wasn’t really seeing the road, just bits of what she thought was real.
Jinki hasn’t figured out all of the stories in the house and Victoria is not excluded from that number of people. They all had a past, something to turn their back on in order to live with purpose in the Underground.
And Victoria. Well. Jinki had a hunch.
~o~
Jinki doesn’t notice the creak of his door or the dip in his mattress until Jonghyun nudges Jinki’s side with the tip of his socked foot. Jinki’s gaze strays from his father’s chemistry book splayed on his lap, previously caught in the idea that maybe there was a way to find him through the book somehow. It was a stupid idea to begin with, but Jinki was frantic and imprudent enough to try anything.
Jinki sees Jonghyun from the corner of his shoulders, lying flat on his bed, hands behind his head.
“Kibum says you skipped dinner.” Jonghyun had just gotten out of the shower, hair damp and the neckline of his shirt still matted with water. He had just gotten home from another investigation at the production. Apparently Papa Bear wanted it checked regularly now seeing as his doubts of the blanks still lie within those premises.
“I wasn’t very hungry.” Jinki doesn’t allow his stare to linger at Jonghyun. He’s got a plan and knowing what he needs to do just tears him apart.
“So what happened earlier?”
“With what?”
“Papa Bear.”
Jinki’s eyes focus even harder on the words printed on his text book. “Uhm.”
“Why did he want you?”
Jinki palms the textbook shut and settles it on the floor before shifting his weight on the bed to face Jonghyun who was still comfortably lounging on his back. Jinki catches his upper lip between his teeth, letting the skin drag over the edges as he allows it to slip past. He stares at Jonghyun’s knees, propped over one another. “I can’t tell you.”
“Oh.” Jonghyun grins. He holds up both his hands. “Well, I’m not gonna pry.”
There’s a swell in Jinki’s heart that won’t go away; a combination of worry and pain rolled up into one big hand, clawing at his insides. He understands the amount of torture Jonghyun had to go through just to make sure that he was safe. He took those measures in stride and never broke down until the last thread was cut and now, Jinki wasn’t thinking about doing the same. If anything, Jinki was thinking about the long haul.
It’s an outlandish environment to be in, an eclectic group of people put together to sell desire in a red capsule. And Jinki can only pray that the monsters don’t show up at night or that if they do Jonghyun and he will be strong enough to battle each one until they’re the only two standing. But it isn’t just the two of them now. So much is at stake and it never occurred to Jinki that he would be one of the main reasons why everything would go downhill. There were questions, millions of them, eddying in his head that he wanted answered.
But before everything he needed to make sure that when he fought this battle, he was going to fight it alone.
Ever so cautiously, Jinki edges over to Jonghyun. Jonghyun presses his weight on his elbows to lift himself up but Jinki lays his hand on Jonghyun’s chest, sending him back down, and their eyes locked. Jinki stays close, one arm around Jonghyun’s waist as he makes room for Jonghyun’s arm between the pillow and his neck. He breathes in the scent of rubbing alcohol and cheap cologne around Jonghyun’s neck, the aroma of shampoo and the soap he used since he was six, even back at the orphanage. Jonghyun was still everything that Jinki knew.
Jinki’s eyelids droop down until their relaxed and closed, his ear directly over Jonghyun’s heart. He hears the replica of the beats, the reaction of the bones and the skin as they accommodate the heart’s actions, the swallowing of Jonghyun’s throat, and the stillness of their bodies.
No matter what happens you will always feel like home to me.
~o~
It tickles when Crayons nuzzles the piece of Cheerio in Minho’s fingers, swiping it away with its mouth. Minho smiles at the bunny, mixing his own bowl of cereal and milk. It was never a habit of his to venture off into the dining room late at night for something as petty as cereal but it was all that kept him from going crazy at this moment and he had no idea why. But this scene was rather familiar to him. The dining room. Past midnight. Gom (his former bunny) by the table with him, eating the same food he was eating. His pajamas riding low. Not another soul awake in the house except for him. The lights turned low.
Sometimes, when Minho regresses he doesn’t want to come back to reality. And that has become much more frequent now that he can’t seem to focus all of his energy in the right place. Minho lets go of the spoon, the utensil clanking against the bowl as he falls on both his arms. He feels Crayons nibbling on his hair and it made him spin his head around to shoo the bunny away from making him bald.
“Not the hair, Cray. That’s where ninety percent of my appeal comes from.” He holds the bunny in both hands the same time a light, faint laugh ghosts over the room.
Minho’s head snaps up and it’s almost like one of his fantasies being relived or something. Because when he looks up he sees Jinki, pajama clad, shirt white and thin enough to accentuate his best curves, his hair a mess like he had just gotten up (which he probably just did) and a lascivious smirk lining his lips. He’s by the entrance, arms crossed over his chest. Minho can’t decide whether or not he was dreaming. He sets Crayons back on the table, exhaling slowly.
“Did I scare you?” Jinki’s voice is low and grainy. He nears the table but doesn’t sit, just stands opposite Minho who can’t help but blink up at Jinki.
“No-why are you up?”
Jinki shrugs, his eyes hooded, no longer warm like when his smile washes over his face. Something was out of the ordinary, the whole scene playing out before Minho in scattered strips of a torn picture. It didn’t make sense. Why was Jinki looking at him like that? Why was he walking along the halls alone in the middle of the night without Jonghyun? “I couldn’t sleep. I’ve developed a strange craving for something I can’t put my finger on.”
Jinki’s eyes lazily roams over Minho face, his stare so thick Minho can almost taste it like the bits of cereal stuck in his teeth. He licks his already moist lips while biting on them. When they slip from his teeth they’re tainted red and swell perfectly, enough to make Minho curious of its texture when felt with his tongue.
Jinki drags a finger over the lining of the table, tracing its mahogany outline as he walks around it, making his way towards where Minho was, the bunny forgotten and pushing the box of Cheerios over the table and spilling a pile of wheat, white rings for its nibbling feast. Minho’s too busy to care, to fathom Victoria’s displeasure when she finds out that her 60,000 Won worth dining table is being used as a 500 Won plate by a bunny.
When Jinki’s right beside Minho, allowing a foot of space in between them, Jinki places both his hands over the table behind him and hoists himself up (another factor that will not please Victoria, Minho amends but can’t care enough to push Jinki away). Jinki’s feet leave the floor, tips of his toes dangling over it as he places himself comfortably over the surface of the mahogany, his eyes never leaving Minho.
Minho swallows the imaginary lump in his throat, his gaze skirting over the dip in Jinki’s shirt where his collar is prettily seducing him, the covered skin permitting Minho’s imagination to run wild with thoughts that only feed his groin. His pajamas feel five times smaller, straining against his unpremeditated erection.
“You should go to bed, Jinki.” Minho whispers hoarsely, forcing his gaze away from Jinki’s crotch, made available for his stare on the table.
“But I’m hungry.”
Minho takes his bowl in one hand and rises from his seat, Crayons now off the table and wandering on the floor having filled itself with enough Cheerios to last it a month. “Kitchen’s wide open. Help yourself.”
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Minho feels Jinki’s hands, fingers circling his boney wrist and holding him in place. Minho stops. What was he supposed to do? He wants to pull away and it won’t be much of a challenge considering his strength in comparison to Jinki’s gentle touches. But he was of no competitor to Jinki. He never was. Jinki tugs on his wrist, pulls him to stand in front of him, until they’re breaths are mingling. Jinki’s chin is tilted up, hands running over Minho’s hips as he positions them in between his legs. He shoves his own hips forward, closer to the border of the table, eyes on Minho looking down at him.
“I thought you didn’t want me.” Minho’s breath is slightly chilled from the milk in the cereal, his eyes hooded and his cheeks dusted with allusions of scarlet. Minho was no match for Jinki. This was a problem. The joints of his knees go weak when Jinki places a hand over his cheek, thumb brushing against his skin in tiny, back and forth strokes.
“You and me both.” Jinki’s eyes are half closed, lips ready to connect with Minho when Minho halts him with his hand flying towards Jinki’s neck, fingers curling around his neck as if wanting to lead him to asphyxiation.
“Liar.” He hisses. Both their eyes are wide open now, Jinki’s hands automatically go over Minho’s hand on his neck, his eyes pleading. But pleading for what? What was this? Where was this coming from?
There was an eerie look of uncertainty tainting Jinki’s eyes, a dash of fear and maybe, in the browns of his irises crosses of sadness, emotions no nearer to the lust clouding Minho’s common sense. This was far from what was right, far from the safety he always found in his room, away from Jinki, away from what could be the death of him. He just needed to distance himself. He needed to find a way to crawl out of this unspoken pleas spilling from Jinki’s eyes as opposed to his lips. This was reckless and Minho was anything but that. He knew better. He had to admit, there were things that he had already pushed himself into doing, into thinking, that he can’t erase, but there lies the scarring reality that he was no wiser than the rest of his colleagues, that he was just as human and young as he was acting.
Minho doesn’t realize Jinki’s hands sneaking up his arms, hands locking behind his neck until Jinki’s pulling him in and.
Their lips meet.
Soft. So soft.
He can’t help but sink.
His eyes close. His breathing hitches. His hips move forward. Then Jinki’s pulling him down on the table, over Jinki on his back, Minho’s arms lying flat on either surface of Jinki’s head. Minho grinds his hips involuntarily, finding it the only appropriate response to the feel of Jinki’s length digging against his stomach through layers of fabric, a hindrance that won’t be there for long.
Minho places his weight on his arms, knowing full well why Jinki was hauling him up, the mistakes that they were about to commit. Minho isn’t really throwing caution to the winds. How can he when he kept ignoring caution’s cries?
His knees go on the table, the wood creaking as a response to the added weight. Minho’s hand vindictively presses into Jinki’s hips until he can sense Jinki’s hip bones greeting his fingertips under the downy skin. One of his thighs pushes forward into Jinki’s crotch and he releases a soft, painful groan, Minho catching it in his mouth.
Jinki rolls Minho over on his back, and for a minute Minho panics, thinking that Jinki’s finally changed his mind. Instead, Jinki raises his head for air and abruptly stares into Minho’s eyes once again. His thumb traces the red swell of Minho’s lips and Minho looks away, unsure of the remorse in the pit of his stomach. Have you ever been so torn to the point of ruins? When there are no exit signs only tunnels leading to even darker corners?
Jinki’s mouth latches onto the expanse of skin on Minho’s neck with a little bit of teeth and lot of tongue. Jinki’s palms are sweaty, sliding up Minho’s side from underneath his shirt and peeking from his neckline. Jinki bucks his hips, friction is achieved and both boys let out a strained gasp, Minho’s much lower and Jinki’s grainy.
Jinki pushes himself up on his knees, still in between Minho’s legs which were parted. Minho sits up with Jinki, arms behind him as they balance his weight. Jinki peels his shirt off, slips it past his shoulders and Minho does the same. When Minho’s shirt hits the floor Jinki lightly pushes him back down on the table, his hand trailing down from his chest down to the garter of his pajamas. Minho lifts his hips up when he senses Jinki tugging at them, allowing them to skim off easily.
Jinki palms his half hard state through his boxers, applying light pressure, teasing in the best sense of the art. Minho’s eyes shut, all sorts of incoherencies escaping his plush lips as Jinki works with his sounds, determining where Minho was most sensitive. Minho muffles his moans by folding his arm over his mouth, his teeth digging into the inner bend of his elbow, eyes shut tight, crinkling at the sides.
His stomach sinks with his generous intake of oxygen, his ribs in visible light lines below his chest, his hips reluctantly meeting Jinki’s palm. Jinki’s tongue runs over his lips at the sight. He balances his weight on one hand in order to hover over Minho, pushing his arm away to capture his lips in another torturously slow kiss, nothing but dragging lips in an awkward fit, slippery tongue and occasional sucking.
Jinki’s hand slips past the waistband, fingers ghosting over the sensitive head, slightly damp with precum. Minho was more than ready for him, his cock was practically begging to be touched. There’s a question in Minho’s mind and it concersn Jonghyun. However relevant that question was nothing meant more than Jinki’s delicious touches, covering his length, lathering him in his own precum.
His hand went over the head, dragging the skin up and down, his body moving with his gestures and Minho can’t seem to get his breathing right. He grips Jinki by the shoulders, nails digging into his skin, adding crescent marks that Jinki will probably have to explain to Jonghyun when he gets back to bed.
Then he feels a finger skimming the skin near his entrance and Minho finally looks at Jinki and pulls away.
“No.” Minho whispers in the shell of Jinki’s ear before shifting his weight and going behind the boy. He pushes Jinki on his stomach over the table, lies on his back, skin to skin. He pulls at Jinki’s pajamas from behind and repeats the gesture Jinki was about to do to him while whispering in the same ear. “If we’re doing this, I wanna do this right.”
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