Worthy Of You [5/?]
Title: Worthy Of You [5/?]
Rating: R
Pairing: JongKey, side!OnHo
Genre: slice of life, angst, romance, drama, fluff
Word Count: 4178
Summary: both Kibum and Jonghyun, (known also as Bummie and Jjong) work hard to make themselves worthy the other one.
A/N: It’s the sequel for Each Beat Reminds Me Of You
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: [prologue] , [1] , [ 2] , [3], [4]
♠ ♠ ♠
Kibum was sure that the man in front of him stopped breathing, widening his eyes in pure horror, as both of them froze, unable to move, to speak; they could only stare at each other.
Kibum noticed how the man was slightly trembling, trying to keep his balance while kneeling- until apparently, he decided that it was better to stand up.
He did so, straightening up at once, in a blink of eye, though his gaze never left Kibum’s. The boy slowly raised to his feet as well, realizing he was still holding the papers that the man had dropped.
He hesitantly extended his hand, giving the files to their owner, who almost jumped away at the boy’s approximating hand. He quickly grabbed what was his and, before Kibum could register that, turned on his feet and rushed away.
Never before had Kibum felt so surrealistically in his life.
It all came back at once, storming into the boy’s mind. The sweat, the flesh, the sperm, the pain, the voices, the faces, the scratches, the hickeys, the bites, the tongues, the alcohol, the disgust, the fear-
Jonghyun
For the fist time since he started working here, he had such vivid visions of the past. The nightmare was there again- seemingly hidden, seemingly healed. Only seemingly though.
Kibum wondered how much time he had left at the Civil Registration.
Days seemed to become longer and longer, there was this forced silence between Kibum and Doojoon, and the extreme cautiousness while he was working- he tried to avoid meeting any possible worker. He knew Mister Park wouldn’t say anything that easily. He wouldn’t admit that he knew Key. He wouldn’t admit where or in what conditions he met him.
But that didn’t ease Kibum’s fear. Not one bit.
It wasn’t fear of revealing his past. Or of being discriminated.
It was fear of going insane. Of going paranoiac, of remembering all that happened. Of having dreams of all that happened- of having dreams of Mister Park. He was his regular client after all. He knew his body, his reactions, his kinks, his voice, his face when he would reach the highest peak of pleasure. That thought made Kibum shrink with disgust.
Those things might have been in past, he might not have the reason to remember all of this when he started existing as Kim Kibum- not Almighty Key anymore- but how could he not think about it when it all came to life again?
Will Mister Park threaten him? Force him to sleep with him? Will he shrug it off? Will he talk to the principals to fire him?
He was numb with fear, so overwhelming. At night he’d curl up under his blanket, tremble and silently pray for those thought to go away.
But even if he’d think of Jonghyun, it’d be about that memorable night which Jjong- as his client- spent in his room at the club. The unforgettable night which was followed by a dreadful morning, when his boss raved and raged about Key having to meet with Mister Park.
And then, the encounter itself and Jonghyun witnessing it.
Kibum hissed. How naïve he was to think that he’d found peace at last.
A few days after the meeting, Kibum couldn’t help but notice how people’s attitude towards him changed. They became more reserved, more official, less caring, less interested.
As if something in Kibum made them insecure. Or no, not insecure. Sick.
That thought only broke Kibum’s heart even more. He only started receiving gentleness and unforced, nice attention from people- and it already ended.
Has Mister Park spread rumors about him?
The insecurity was killing him; he couldn’t go to someone and ask “hey, I wondered if someone spread some rumors about me being a hooker”.
He was helpless and restless.
But the climax of it all came when he was told to clean one of the offices while the workers were still working. His boss explained that that particular office hadn’t been cleaned for a while and recently it became a real mess. The worker (an accountant) was going to have a meeting with someone important (no need to explain it any further to Kibum) in about an hour, so the room should look at least decent.
Kibum didn’t hesitate, anything that would distract him from those obsessive thoughts about past was good. He took all his cleaning equipment with him and walked towards the pointed door.
Had he been more careful and given it more thought, he wouldn’t be surprised to walk into Mister Park’s office. It was so obvious, so logical, almost funny.
But as he’d never clean particular offices while the workers were still in there, he didn’t even imagine a situation where he’d be told to clean exactly his office.
That’s why he felt as if world stopped for a moment, as if the weight of all the unspoken things pinned him down and prevented from breathing. He stared blankly at the severe, emotionless face that he knew so disgustingly well.
Was he really that stupid? Why didn’t he stay where he was safe?
He bit his lower lip and decided that it was time to face the past, to get over with it. He stepped inside, closed the door behind him, bowed politely not looking Mister Park in the eye again, and began struggling with cloths.
He took a short look at the office.
A mess, my ass.
The office was almost pedantically clean.
He couldn’t just leave like that, though; he began cleaning the closest drawer, with no ash on it whatsoever.
He concentrated so much on the simple movement, rubbing the cloth on the flat surface, that when he heard a voice, he shrank involuntarily.
“Are you satisfied?”
He stopped moving; it was the first time he’d heard this voice in years; he might have heard it sometimes in his nightmares, but it was always somehow away, not that hearable.
Yet here, this voice was real again, cutting his ears with merciless reality.
“Sorry?” he muttered, barely audibly, not looking up from the cloth, which was now the most fascinating object in the world.
“Are you satisfied?” the voice insisted, and Kibum forced himself to turn to his right.
Mister Park was sitting at his desk, fumbling with some paper work; he looked professional and free of any kind of sentiments- if you wouldn’t notice how tightly his hand gripped his pen, or how fake was his severe face.
He was crumbling underneath that strong shell. Kibum might not have known much about him, but he knew his reactions and moods almost better than his own. It was frightening in a way.
He swallowed, feeling how dry his throat went at once, and tried to stay calm.
“Why would I be?” he asked resolutely, still polite and still as ever.
Mister Park started to shake.
“You destroyed my family. Destroyed it!”
Kibum gaped at the man feeling how indescribable fear began to increase inside of him.
“I’ve no idea what it’s all about” he whispered, trying his best not to tremble, when the man stood up, pain and hate so visible in his eyes.
“Oh, yes, you do.” he nodded frantically, stumbling on his feet, getting closer and closer to Kibum.
The boy searched for a handle with his hand, not letting his gaze leave Mister Park.
“I…”
There was a hand on his wrist, gripping painfully tightly, so that Kibum winced uncomfortably. The man’s face was only a few centimeters away from his, he could see all of the scars, the imperfections, the drops of sweat shining on his bald forehead-
“You’re a filthy, shameless prick that destroyed my family” the man insisted, his gaze piercing Kibum’s soul. He looked furious, furious and dangerous, but, at the same time, ridiculously vulnerable. As if Kibum was the only remedy to “un-destroy” his family.
“I have nothing to do with your family, it’s none of my business, now let me-“ he started, panic rising, as his forehead met with the man’s sweaty skin.
“You’re everything” he muttered, his other hand catching another Kibum’s wrist, locking him in his grip.
“… what?” Kibum barely breathed, having to cross his eyes to meet the hatred gaze. His heart was beating unbearably fast, he could hear it.
“Everything. The good, the bad, the fascinating, the revolting, the alluring, the cruel.” Mister Park said on one breath, his grip not faltering, the nonexistent space between two bodies not widening.
“Am I”? Kibum didn’t understand that stream of words, he’d never think that one could be that eloquent, poetic almost, when he’d bump into someone that shares the darkest secret with you. “What makes you think that?” he added, knowing that it was what he other wanted to hear.
“My wife” was the simple answer, followed by an impatient tug. Kibum was dragged closer to Mister Park, tugged further into the office. His legs followed him obediently, as he was too frightened to refuse.
“What about her?” he asked, feeling the man stop, leaning on his desk, never breaking the eye contact. If anything changed, it was the amount of feelings in the other’s eyes- not they were almost overwhelmed with pain.
“She hates me” the man whispered and unexpectedly let go of Kibum’s wrists only to close him in a desperate embrace. The boy’s eyes widened in shock as he tried to wriggle out of that disgusting position. Mister Park was somehow stronger though.
“God, let me go-“
“She hates me because she found your photo in my wallet. She didn’t believe me when I said it was my friend’s son. She didn’t believe me because ever since I started coming home late, really late, refusing to make love to her, making excuses about being tired. She didn’t believe me because even though I loved her like crazy- I still do- I kept on repeating your goddamn name in my sleep. At first she ignored it, but then she started suspecting something. But worst of all that was when my little sons asked if I didn’t love mum anymore.”
If Kibum had ever felt disgust towards someone, this was the highest form of it. The hands on his neck and back burned him through the fabric with their filthiness, the breath landing in the crook of his neck was a venom seeping deep into his veins.
“They were right” he gained enough courage to frown with disapproval. How he managed to keep it on his face when the man suddenly jerked to face him- he didn’t know. But he was proud of himself that it stayed there, that it didn’t falter as another wave of fear washed over him.
“What?!” the man snarled “You goddamn piece of-“
“If you loved her, if you really did, why the hell would you go to a gay bar and meet with a hooker? Is that how you define love? Forgiving and keeping on loving knowing that the one you love betrays you and cheats on you with no regrets? Is that it?”
Kibum was surprised himself at the sudden outburst of emotions, but he was glad he could let it all out. He always knew that many of his clients were married, he wasn’t stupid or ignorant. But he’d never think they’d just excuse themselves, prove that they’re not guilty, or even blame him for their unsated lust.
“You know nothing! I really do love my wife! And my sons! I hate you, you’re the worst that has ever happened to me-“ Mister Park gripped his arms painfully and began shaking him as if he was some lifeless doll. He was frustrated and full of fear. Even if he was covering it with hate and power, Kibum could easily see through him.
“You hate me? Why do you keep on touching me? Why do you even bother talking to me? Why won’t you leave that dark side of your life behind, just as I have?” he was asking, trying to keep his head still, as he was being shaken with force.
“You’re disgusting, I hate you for what you’ve done to me-“
“Maybe think of what you have done to me for once?!” Kibum yelled, incapable of keeping it inside anymore. He yelled and tried to wriggle out of those filthy hands that knew each inch of his body.
“Maybe you should think of your wife and what she’d felt when she found out you were betraying her with no one else than a boy! Think of what she’s been through, not you, you selfish, lusty, shameless bastard! It’s her and your sons you should think about, and you alone to blame. Don’t lay your finger on me ever again. I mean it.” the older man’s grasp faltered and Kibum freed himself from it. They looked at each other in silence for a long moment.
Kibum turned on his feet and left, not bothering to take his things with him. After Mister Park had spitted onto his face, he just knew that the time he could still spend in that place was running out quickly.
Kibum’s time run out only two weeks later when he broke Doojoon’s nose .
It all started the day Kibum found out that his photo with Jjong that he’d been always hiding under his pillow, was gone.
At first, he would just stare blankly at the white sheet that was always bringing some colors to his life, when he could see his lover with him.
But there was only white, white pricking his eyes with its cold stillness.
Kibum never remembered taking the photo somewhere else, it was always there, staying safe and untouched.
Apparently, he must have taken it somewhere, dropped it and lost it.
The single thought made him cringe in pain.
What was he now supposed to do? Walk to all the people passing the corridors by and ask whether they had seen a photo of him and a blonde boy?
It wasn’t too wise.
Therefore he’d just search for it, search with all his might, trying to remember all the possible places he’d been to last time he left the photo on the bed.
When that didn’t bring him any new, he just came back to his room, lay on his bed, cover his face with his arm and weep silently.
Now the only souvenir of those happy times was gone. And it was all because of his stupidity.
The following day, after having cleaned the building, he walked into the room and saw a very pleased Doojoon, who seemed to have been waiting for him.
He just tried to ignore that stupid, grinning face, and lay down on his bed. Doojoon broke the silence though. For the first time in weeks.
“Found something really nice to jerk off to” he announced, baring his teeth in a disgustingly revolting smile.
“That’s nice.” Kibum simply replied, not wanting the conversation to continue. He winced hearing the other’s chuckle.
“Yeah, that’s really nice” were the last words Doojoon bothered him with that day.
The next day was similar- after Kibum came to their shared room, Doojoon repeated his words. The younger boy again shrugged it off and repeated his yesterday’s reply.
But the third day everything changed.
This time Doojoon’s words weren’t “found something nice to jerk off”. They were utterly different, though connected to the same subject.
“I wonder if the blonde one tops, if he’s shorter than you” he said with a playful smirk.
And that was when Kibum realized where his photo had gone to.
He widened his eyes in pure shock and clenched his fists, as Doojoon smiled only wider, and took something from his pocket.
“You both look really nice, I must admit. I wonder how he fucks you. Does it hurt? You’re his little private bitch, aren’t you? Bet you jerk off to this pic as we-”
But before he could finish the sentence, his nose met a clenched fist. He yelped in pain and surprise and fell down on his bed, feeling another punches directed to his chest, arms- Kibum didn’t hit his head anymore, fortunately. But it was too late anyways; he could only pant with his mouth open, because his nose seemed blocked- only when something warm and metallic in taste slipped into his mouth, he cried out and tried to push the other boy away.
And that movement, the weak push of Doojoon’s hands made Kibum stop his rage.
As the whole fury eased down and he stared at the older guy, only then he realized what he’d done. What he’d been doing for past minute. He stared with disbelief at the scratched face, bleeding, lopsided nose (oh God, I broke his nose), eyes widened in fear, arms red from his punches, hands trembling vigorously.
Was it really his doing? He’d really done that? He was capable of giving this kind of pain to others?
Kibum knew he’d just learned a new thing about himself. But he didn’t seem to enjoy it.
The opposite, he was frightened. Frightened with his lack of control.
What would he do if Doojoon would’ve stopped him? Would he kill him?
The single thought made his eyes well up with tears. He lowered his head, letting the tears drop on Doojoon’s shirt. His fists (fuck, they hurt) supported him on the hard bed. He sobbed quietly, as Doojoon’s breath evened a bit. It seemed as if they both just snapped, woke up from their pretended realities. In which neither of them was happy enough.
Doojoon’s eyes were so full of fear, glistering with unshed tears, that for a mere moment Kibum pitied him. Only for a moment though.
Then he remembered the reason of this fear as well as their whole “relationship” and he decided he regretted nothing.
Maybe except for being fired the very next hour.
“So you say you’ve only worked as a cleaner at the Civil Registration?”
Kibum nods doubtfully, for the nth time taking a glance around the coffee shop he’d entered only a few minutes ago. The place was nice and warm, the walls were painted in light chocolate brown, it smelled really pleasantly. There were some people sitting at the tables, drinking coffees, munching muffins, reading newspapers. That was the real, normal, well-deserved life anyone had.
“How about your address? Where do you live?”
Kibum swallows nervously, biting his lower lip and sending the boy a pained gaze.
The boy had brown hair cut in the way that it could remind of a mushroom a bit. His hair ended at the end of his neck, some locks from his fringe were falling onto his eyes. He had really delicate, feminine features (and Kibum thought he had such…), a smile that was both cheerful and innocent, voice that sounded as if the boy wasn’t capable of feeling any kind of negative emotions. As if he was a definition of happiness.
That made Kibum feel even more insecure. The boy was on a totally different level. The level he’d never reach.
He reconsidered running out of the door for the fifth time, but that sweet voice stopped him.
This time, it was filled with concern.
“You… don’t have a place to live, am I right?” he asked a bit hesitantly, but not even a bit judgingly. His words held nothing more of worry.
Kibum felt his heart clench.
“I… no, I don’t.” he finally muttered, lowering his gaze to his shoes. The conversation wasn’t humiliating, it was just… incredibly uncomfortable.
He jerked his head up when he heard another words from the angelic boy:
“Is your family anywhere nearby?”
“I don’t have a family” Kibum whispered, tears dangerously close to just flow down his face.
The boy bit his lower lip, thinking deeply about something, his eyes never leaving Kibum’s face. It was as if he was trying to see through him, to find out whether he can be trusted or not.
Finally, he turned his head and called for someone.
“Junho, could you come here and replace me for a few minutes? I need to make an interview in private” he said, when the called guy walked towards him.
“Sure thing, boss” he replied, sending the boy a wide, overwhelming grin, to which Kibum couldn’t help but smile too. The guy was his height probably, but his posture was completely different. Kibum noticed the fine shaped arms despite the green shirt he was wearing, it wasn’t hard to imagine his stomach muscles. The boy’s chest was broad and firm, his eyes almost unseen when his lips curved into a smile baring his white teeth. His hair was partially dyed with red, the other locks were black. The guy’s ears were pierced, he had a soft, nice voice. And was really attractive.
Kibum mentally slapped himself for even thinking that.
It wasn’t that after having fallen for Jonghyun he wouldn’t notice other boys, he still would, he wasn’t immune to beauty after all- but, somehow, as Jjong was away and couldn’t see him almost ogling Junho, he couldn’t help but feel as if he was betraying him.
Therefore he set his sight on the mushroom boy once again. He was shaking his head in amusement.
“Not ‘boss’, Junho, how many times do I have to remind you?” he chuckled, as his hair was ruffled by the other’s hand.
“Well, at least someone is showing some respect to the other one” he winked and tilted his head.
Kibum stared at them, not noticing when his shy smile turned into an affectionate grin.
“You were the one that told me not to call you hyung, remember?” the mushroom boy reminded Junho, crossing his arms. How cute.
“Yeah, well, Choi was the one to make me call you the boss, he’s so damn demanding” the older retorted, laughing at the memory.
The “boss” returned the laugh.
“Gosh, you’re unbelievable” he said with a huff, as he stepped out of the counter and motioned Kibum to follow him.
They walked into a clean, empty (if not for a bed and a cupboard) room. The boy gestured him to sit down on the bed and took a place next to him.
“So” he began, not entirely sure of how to start “I don’t know you, I’ve no idea what you’ve been through or why you’re in such position now in your life, but, somehow I feel that I can trust you. And it’s not as if I were a naïve, innocent kid, though I might look like one” the boy added, tilting his head to Kibum’s side and sending him a pointing look. The older just nodded, not really comprehending the meaning of the words he’d just heard.
“That’s why I think I should, I don’t know, help you” the boy shrugged, smiling a bit, but not losing that attentive and serious look in his eyes “you seem to be a good person. And I hope you are one. Anyways, it’ll be you burning in hell if anything, not me” he said merrily, grinning so cutely that Kibum just had to smile back. He’d known the other boy for some fifteen minutes only, but he’d already developed some kind of affection towards him.
Maybe it was the way he’d feel about his younger brother if he had one. He didn’t know.
But he knew that from then on, he would be trying hard not to disappoint his new boss. He was just too precious.
“Well, you don’t seem to talkative, I must admit” the mushroom boy chuckled “but I bet that after some time you’ll get used to me, to Junho and our strange sense of humor. You’ll open up, you’ll see” he added, nodding with sureness. “It might take some time, but it’ll be surely worth it, I know it.”
Kibum nodded again. The younger boy was somehow intimidating, seemed so mature as for his age-how old was he, anyways?
“How old are you?” he blurted out of nowhere, making the boy stare at him in surprise for a mere moment. Then his face lit up at the sign of some progression in their talk, and he replied:
“Twenty-two.”
Kibum’s eyes widened in shock.
“What?!”
How could that innocent, cute boy be only two years younger than him? That was insane.
“Well, yeah, most of the people react this way” he admitted “not that I’m surprised though”.
Kibum eyes the mushroom boy again and nodded.
“Yeah, it’s not surprising.”
The grin he got as reply melted his heart.
“Anyways, you can call me by my name. I don’t like being called ‘boss’ that much, with Junho it’s different though… he’s a good friend, we often joke about each other. Still, I prefer to be called just Taemin. Is it okay with you?” he asked, smiling softly at Kibum.
The older could only nod again.
Taemin laughed.
“Great! If that’s so, welcome to your new job, Kibum-hyung!”
Maybe things were going to turn out okay finally.
___________________________________________________________________________
A/N: Okay, so I'm posting it, but I can't promise to post chapter 6 soon... but it won't be that late either. I don't know why I'm posting it right now, and not in May, as I wanted to, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to do so, so... here it is~
I have some oneshots in progress, hope to finish them soon.
Life's changed, I've changed, life is beautiful, I finally know that~
Now, in case you're wondering- Junho looks like this in this chapter:
I lost the exact pic that inspired me OTL.
Feels like I'm gonna include all of my 2PM biases in here... There's already Junsu and Taecyeon (in 'Each Beat'), now Junho... only Chanana's left x"D Though I love Wooyoung too... but, as for now, I won't include them, there are some more characters to come anyway.
I feel like this story is going to have about 20 chapters or something like that. It's kind of complicated and there's so many things to include, so... I just hope you'll stay with me until the end :)
Btw., I really love writing Taemin in here, he'll have his big role in this fic ^ ^ As well as all the others, but I won't tell you anything more~~
Ah, and Taemin looks like this:
I've started chapter 6, but as I said, I'm not sure when I'm going to end it, but hopefully it'll be here in 2 weeks the latest.
Okay, enough of that. I hope you liked this chapter.
/off to pretend to be learning
PS. There's going to be fluff, jsyk. Lots of it.
damn, I love this guy.
Rating: R
Pairing: JongKey, side!OnHo
Genre: slice of life, angst, romance, drama, fluff
Word Count: 4178
Summary: both Kibum and Jonghyun, (known also as Bummie and Jjong) work hard to make themselves worthy the other one.
A/N: It’s the sequel for Each Beat Reminds Me Of You
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: [prologue] , [1] , [ 2] , [3], [4]
♠ ♠ ♠
Kibum was sure that the man in front of him stopped breathing, widening his eyes in pure horror, as both of them froze, unable to move, to speak; they could only stare at each other.
Kibum noticed how the man was slightly trembling, trying to keep his balance while kneeling- until apparently, he decided that it was better to stand up.
He did so, straightening up at once, in a blink of eye, though his gaze never left Kibum’s. The boy slowly raised to his feet as well, realizing he was still holding the papers that the man had dropped.
He hesitantly extended his hand, giving the files to their owner, who almost jumped away at the boy’s approximating hand. He quickly grabbed what was his and, before Kibum could register that, turned on his feet and rushed away.
Never before had Kibum felt so surrealistically in his life.
It all came back at once, storming into the boy’s mind. The sweat, the flesh, the sperm, the pain, the voices, the faces, the scratches, the hickeys, the bites, the tongues, the alcohol, the disgust, the fear-
Jonghyun
For the fist time since he started working here, he had such vivid visions of the past. The nightmare was there again- seemingly hidden, seemingly healed. Only seemingly though.
Kibum wondered how much time he had left at the Civil Registration.
Days seemed to become longer and longer, there was this forced silence between Kibum and Doojoon, and the extreme cautiousness while he was working- he tried to avoid meeting any possible worker. He knew Mister Park wouldn’t say anything that easily. He wouldn’t admit that he knew Key. He wouldn’t admit where or in what conditions he met him.
But that didn’t ease Kibum’s fear. Not one bit.
It wasn’t fear of revealing his past. Or of being discriminated.
It was fear of going insane. Of going paranoiac, of remembering all that happened. Of having dreams of all that happened- of having dreams of Mister Park. He was his regular client after all. He knew his body, his reactions, his kinks, his voice, his face when he would reach the highest peak of pleasure. That thought made Kibum shrink with disgust.
Those things might have been in past, he might not have the reason to remember all of this when he started existing as Kim Kibum- not Almighty Key anymore- but how could he not think about it when it all came to life again?
Will Mister Park threaten him? Force him to sleep with him? Will he shrug it off? Will he talk to the principals to fire him?
He was numb with fear, so overwhelming. At night he’d curl up under his blanket, tremble and silently pray for those thought to go away.
But even if he’d think of Jonghyun, it’d be about that memorable night which Jjong- as his client- spent in his room at the club. The unforgettable night which was followed by a dreadful morning, when his boss raved and raged about Key having to meet with Mister Park.
And then, the encounter itself and Jonghyun witnessing it.
Kibum hissed. How naïve he was to think that he’d found peace at last.
A few days after the meeting, Kibum couldn’t help but notice how people’s attitude towards him changed. They became more reserved, more official, less caring, less interested.
As if something in Kibum made them insecure. Or no, not insecure. Sick.
That thought only broke Kibum’s heart even more. He only started receiving gentleness and unforced, nice attention from people- and it already ended.
Has Mister Park spread rumors about him?
The insecurity was killing him; he couldn’t go to someone and ask “hey, I wondered if someone spread some rumors about me being a hooker”.
He was helpless and restless.
But the climax of it all came when he was told to clean one of the offices while the workers were still working. His boss explained that that particular office hadn’t been cleaned for a while and recently it became a real mess. The worker (an accountant) was going to have a meeting with someone important (no need to explain it any further to Kibum) in about an hour, so the room should look at least decent.
Kibum didn’t hesitate, anything that would distract him from those obsessive thoughts about past was good. He took all his cleaning equipment with him and walked towards the pointed door.
Had he been more careful and given it more thought, he wouldn’t be surprised to walk into Mister Park’s office. It was so obvious, so logical, almost funny.
But as he’d never clean particular offices while the workers were still in there, he didn’t even imagine a situation where he’d be told to clean exactly his office.
That’s why he felt as if world stopped for a moment, as if the weight of all the unspoken things pinned him down and prevented from breathing. He stared blankly at the severe, emotionless face that he knew so disgustingly well.
Was he really that stupid? Why didn’t he stay where he was safe?
He bit his lower lip and decided that it was time to face the past, to get over with it. He stepped inside, closed the door behind him, bowed politely not looking Mister Park in the eye again, and began struggling with cloths.
He took a short look at the office.
A mess, my ass.
The office was almost pedantically clean.
He couldn’t just leave like that, though; he began cleaning the closest drawer, with no ash on it whatsoever.
He concentrated so much on the simple movement, rubbing the cloth on the flat surface, that when he heard a voice, he shrank involuntarily.
“Are you satisfied?”
He stopped moving; it was the first time he’d heard this voice in years; he might have heard it sometimes in his nightmares, but it was always somehow away, not that hearable.
Yet here, this voice was real again, cutting his ears with merciless reality.
“Sorry?” he muttered, barely audibly, not looking up from the cloth, which was now the most fascinating object in the world.
“Are you satisfied?” the voice insisted, and Kibum forced himself to turn to his right.
Mister Park was sitting at his desk, fumbling with some paper work; he looked professional and free of any kind of sentiments- if you wouldn’t notice how tightly his hand gripped his pen, or how fake was his severe face.
He was crumbling underneath that strong shell. Kibum might not have known much about him, but he knew his reactions and moods almost better than his own. It was frightening in a way.
He swallowed, feeling how dry his throat went at once, and tried to stay calm.
“Why would I be?” he asked resolutely, still polite and still as ever.
Mister Park started to shake.
“You destroyed my family. Destroyed it!”
Kibum gaped at the man feeling how indescribable fear began to increase inside of him.
“I’ve no idea what it’s all about” he whispered, trying his best not to tremble, when the man stood up, pain and hate so visible in his eyes.
“Oh, yes, you do.” he nodded frantically, stumbling on his feet, getting closer and closer to Kibum.
The boy searched for a handle with his hand, not letting his gaze leave Mister Park.
“I…”
There was a hand on his wrist, gripping painfully tightly, so that Kibum winced uncomfortably. The man’s face was only a few centimeters away from his, he could see all of the scars, the imperfections, the drops of sweat shining on his bald forehead-
“You’re a filthy, shameless prick that destroyed my family” the man insisted, his gaze piercing Kibum’s soul. He looked furious, furious and dangerous, but, at the same time, ridiculously vulnerable. As if Kibum was the only remedy to “un-destroy” his family.
“I have nothing to do with your family, it’s none of my business, now let me-“ he started, panic rising, as his forehead met with the man’s sweaty skin.
“You’re everything” he muttered, his other hand catching another Kibum’s wrist, locking him in his grip.
“… what?” Kibum barely breathed, having to cross his eyes to meet the hatred gaze. His heart was beating unbearably fast, he could hear it.
“Everything. The good, the bad, the fascinating, the revolting, the alluring, the cruel.” Mister Park said on one breath, his grip not faltering, the nonexistent space between two bodies not widening.
“Am I”? Kibum didn’t understand that stream of words, he’d never think that one could be that eloquent, poetic almost, when he’d bump into someone that shares the darkest secret with you. “What makes you think that?” he added, knowing that it was what he other wanted to hear.
“My wife” was the simple answer, followed by an impatient tug. Kibum was dragged closer to Mister Park, tugged further into the office. His legs followed him obediently, as he was too frightened to refuse.
“What about her?” he asked, feeling the man stop, leaning on his desk, never breaking the eye contact. If anything changed, it was the amount of feelings in the other’s eyes- not they were almost overwhelmed with pain.
“She hates me” the man whispered and unexpectedly let go of Kibum’s wrists only to close him in a desperate embrace. The boy’s eyes widened in shock as he tried to wriggle out of that disgusting position. Mister Park was somehow stronger though.
“God, let me go-“
“She hates me because she found your photo in my wallet. She didn’t believe me when I said it was my friend’s son. She didn’t believe me because ever since I started coming home late, really late, refusing to make love to her, making excuses about being tired. She didn’t believe me because even though I loved her like crazy- I still do- I kept on repeating your goddamn name in my sleep. At first she ignored it, but then she started suspecting something. But worst of all that was when my little sons asked if I didn’t love mum anymore.”
If Kibum had ever felt disgust towards someone, this was the highest form of it. The hands on his neck and back burned him through the fabric with their filthiness, the breath landing in the crook of his neck was a venom seeping deep into his veins.
“They were right” he gained enough courage to frown with disapproval. How he managed to keep it on his face when the man suddenly jerked to face him- he didn’t know. But he was proud of himself that it stayed there, that it didn’t falter as another wave of fear washed over him.
“What?!” the man snarled “You goddamn piece of-“
“If you loved her, if you really did, why the hell would you go to a gay bar and meet with a hooker? Is that how you define love? Forgiving and keeping on loving knowing that the one you love betrays you and cheats on you with no regrets? Is that it?”
Kibum was surprised himself at the sudden outburst of emotions, but he was glad he could let it all out. He always knew that many of his clients were married, he wasn’t stupid or ignorant. But he’d never think they’d just excuse themselves, prove that they’re not guilty, or even blame him for their unsated lust.
“You know nothing! I really do love my wife! And my sons! I hate you, you’re the worst that has ever happened to me-“ Mister Park gripped his arms painfully and began shaking him as if he was some lifeless doll. He was frustrated and full of fear. Even if he was covering it with hate and power, Kibum could easily see through him.
“You hate me? Why do you keep on touching me? Why do you even bother talking to me? Why won’t you leave that dark side of your life behind, just as I have?” he was asking, trying to keep his head still, as he was being shaken with force.
“You’re disgusting, I hate you for what you’ve done to me-“
“Maybe think of what you have done to me for once?!” Kibum yelled, incapable of keeping it inside anymore. He yelled and tried to wriggle out of those filthy hands that knew each inch of his body.
“Maybe you should think of your wife and what she’d felt when she found out you were betraying her with no one else than a boy! Think of what she’s been through, not you, you selfish, lusty, shameless bastard! It’s her and your sons you should think about, and you alone to blame. Don’t lay your finger on me ever again. I mean it.” the older man’s grasp faltered and Kibum freed himself from it. They looked at each other in silence for a long moment.
Kibum turned on his feet and left, not bothering to take his things with him. After Mister Park had spitted onto his face, he just knew that the time he could still spend in that place was running out quickly.
Kibum’s time run out only two weeks later when he broke Doojoon’s nose .
It all started the day Kibum found out that his photo with Jjong that he’d been always hiding under his pillow, was gone.
At first, he would just stare blankly at the white sheet that was always bringing some colors to his life, when he could see his lover with him.
But there was only white, white pricking his eyes with its cold stillness.
Kibum never remembered taking the photo somewhere else, it was always there, staying safe and untouched.
Apparently, he must have taken it somewhere, dropped it and lost it.
The single thought made him cringe in pain.
What was he now supposed to do? Walk to all the people passing the corridors by and ask whether they had seen a photo of him and a blonde boy?
It wasn’t too wise.
Therefore he’d just search for it, search with all his might, trying to remember all the possible places he’d been to last time he left the photo on the bed.
When that didn’t bring him any new, he just came back to his room, lay on his bed, cover his face with his arm and weep silently.
Now the only souvenir of those happy times was gone. And it was all because of his stupidity.
The following day, after having cleaned the building, he walked into the room and saw a very pleased Doojoon, who seemed to have been waiting for him.
He just tried to ignore that stupid, grinning face, and lay down on his bed. Doojoon broke the silence though. For the first time in weeks.
“Found something really nice to jerk off to” he announced, baring his teeth in a disgustingly revolting smile.
“That’s nice.” Kibum simply replied, not wanting the conversation to continue. He winced hearing the other’s chuckle.
“Yeah, that’s really nice” were the last words Doojoon bothered him with that day.
The next day was similar- after Kibum came to their shared room, Doojoon repeated his words. The younger boy again shrugged it off and repeated his yesterday’s reply.
But the third day everything changed.
This time Doojoon’s words weren’t “found something nice to jerk off”. They were utterly different, though connected to the same subject.
“I wonder if the blonde one tops, if he’s shorter than you” he said with a playful smirk.
And that was when Kibum realized where his photo had gone to.
He widened his eyes in pure shock and clenched his fists, as Doojoon smiled only wider, and took something from his pocket.
“You both look really nice, I must admit. I wonder how he fucks you. Does it hurt? You’re his little private bitch, aren’t you? Bet you jerk off to this pic as we-”
But before he could finish the sentence, his nose met a clenched fist. He yelped in pain and surprise and fell down on his bed, feeling another punches directed to his chest, arms- Kibum didn’t hit his head anymore, fortunately. But it was too late anyways; he could only pant with his mouth open, because his nose seemed blocked- only when something warm and metallic in taste slipped into his mouth, he cried out and tried to push the other boy away.
And that movement, the weak push of Doojoon’s hands made Kibum stop his rage.
As the whole fury eased down and he stared at the older guy, only then he realized what he’d done. What he’d been doing for past minute. He stared with disbelief at the scratched face, bleeding, lopsided nose (oh God, I broke his nose), eyes widened in fear, arms red from his punches, hands trembling vigorously.
Was it really his doing? He’d really done that? He was capable of giving this kind of pain to others?
Kibum knew he’d just learned a new thing about himself. But he didn’t seem to enjoy it.
The opposite, he was frightened. Frightened with his lack of control.
What would he do if Doojoon would’ve stopped him? Would he kill him?
The single thought made his eyes well up with tears. He lowered his head, letting the tears drop on Doojoon’s shirt. His fists (fuck, they hurt) supported him on the hard bed. He sobbed quietly, as Doojoon’s breath evened a bit. It seemed as if they both just snapped, woke up from their pretended realities. In which neither of them was happy enough.
Doojoon’s eyes were so full of fear, glistering with unshed tears, that for a mere moment Kibum pitied him. Only for a moment though.
Then he remembered the reason of this fear as well as their whole “relationship” and he decided he regretted nothing.
Maybe except for being fired the very next hour.
“So you say you’ve only worked as a cleaner at the Civil Registration?”
Kibum nods doubtfully, for the nth time taking a glance around the coffee shop he’d entered only a few minutes ago. The place was nice and warm, the walls were painted in light chocolate brown, it smelled really pleasantly. There were some people sitting at the tables, drinking coffees, munching muffins, reading newspapers. That was the real, normal, well-deserved life anyone had.
“How about your address? Where do you live?”
Kibum swallows nervously, biting his lower lip and sending the boy a pained gaze.
The boy had brown hair cut in the way that it could remind of a mushroom a bit. His hair ended at the end of his neck, some locks from his fringe were falling onto his eyes. He had really delicate, feminine features (and Kibum thought he had such…), a smile that was both cheerful and innocent, voice that sounded as if the boy wasn’t capable of feeling any kind of negative emotions. As if he was a definition of happiness.
That made Kibum feel even more insecure. The boy was on a totally different level. The level he’d never reach.
He reconsidered running out of the door for the fifth time, but that sweet voice stopped him.
This time, it was filled with concern.
“You… don’t have a place to live, am I right?” he asked a bit hesitantly, but not even a bit judgingly. His words held nothing more of worry.
Kibum felt his heart clench.
“I… no, I don’t.” he finally muttered, lowering his gaze to his shoes. The conversation wasn’t humiliating, it was just… incredibly uncomfortable.
He jerked his head up when he heard another words from the angelic boy:
“Is your family anywhere nearby?”
“I don’t have a family” Kibum whispered, tears dangerously close to just flow down his face.
The boy bit his lower lip, thinking deeply about something, his eyes never leaving Kibum’s face. It was as if he was trying to see through him, to find out whether he can be trusted or not.
Finally, he turned his head and called for someone.
“Junho, could you come here and replace me for a few minutes? I need to make an interview in private” he said, when the called guy walked towards him.
“Sure thing, boss” he replied, sending the boy a wide, overwhelming grin, to which Kibum couldn’t help but smile too. The guy was his height probably, but his posture was completely different. Kibum noticed the fine shaped arms despite the green shirt he was wearing, it wasn’t hard to imagine his stomach muscles. The boy’s chest was broad and firm, his eyes almost unseen when his lips curved into a smile baring his white teeth. His hair was partially dyed with red, the other locks were black. The guy’s ears were pierced, he had a soft, nice voice. And was really attractive.
Kibum mentally slapped himself for even thinking that.
It wasn’t that after having fallen for Jonghyun he wouldn’t notice other boys, he still would, he wasn’t immune to beauty after all- but, somehow, as Jjong was away and couldn’t see him almost ogling Junho, he couldn’t help but feel as if he was betraying him.
Therefore he set his sight on the mushroom boy once again. He was shaking his head in amusement.
“Not ‘boss’, Junho, how many times do I have to remind you?” he chuckled, as his hair was ruffled by the other’s hand.
“Well, at least someone is showing some respect to the other one” he winked and tilted his head.
Kibum stared at them, not noticing when his shy smile turned into an affectionate grin.
“You were the one that told me not to call you hyung, remember?” the mushroom boy reminded Junho, crossing his arms. How cute.
“Yeah, well, Choi was the one to make me call you the boss, he’s so damn demanding” the older retorted, laughing at the memory.
The “boss” returned the laugh.
“Gosh, you’re unbelievable” he said with a huff, as he stepped out of the counter and motioned Kibum to follow him.
They walked into a clean, empty (if not for a bed and a cupboard) room. The boy gestured him to sit down on the bed and took a place next to him.
“So” he began, not entirely sure of how to start “I don’t know you, I’ve no idea what you’ve been through or why you’re in such position now in your life, but, somehow I feel that I can trust you. And it’s not as if I were a naïve, innocent kid, though I might look like one” the boy added, tilting his head to Kibum’s side and sending him a pointing look. The older just nodded, not really comprehending the meaning of the words he’d just heard.
“That’s why I think I should, I don’t know, help you” the boy shrugged, smiling a bit, but not losing that attentive and serious look in his eyes “you seem to be a good person. And I hope you are one. Anyways, it’ll be you burning in hell if anything, not me” he said merrily, grinning so cutely that Kibum just had to smile back. He’d known the other boy for some fifteen minutes only, but he’d already developed some kind of affection towards him.
Maybe it was the way he’d feel about his younger brother if he had one. He didn’t know.
But he knew that from then on, he would be trying hard not to disappoint his new boss. He was just too precious.
“Well, you don’t seem to talkative, I must admit” the mushroom boy chuckled “but I bet that after some time you’ll get used to me, to Junho and our strange sense of humor. You’ll open up, you’ll see” he added, nodding with sureness. “It might take some time, but it’ll be surely worth it, I know it.”
Kibum nodded again. The younger boy was somehow intimidating, seemed so mature as for his age-how old was he, anyways?
“How old are you?” he blurted out of nowhere, making the boy stare at him in surprise for a mere moment. Then his face lit up at the sign of some progression in their talk, and he replied:
“Twenty-two.”
Kibum’s eyes widened in shock.
“What?!”
How could that innocent, cute boy be only two years younger than him? That was insane.
“Well, yeah, most of the people react this way” he admitted “not that I’m surprised though”.
Kibum eyes the mushroom boy again and nodded.
“Yeah, it’s not surprising.”
The grin he got as reply melted his heart.
“Anyways, you can call me by my name. I don’t like being called ‘boss’ that much, with Junho it’s different though… he’s a good friend, we often joke about each other. Still, I prefer to be called just Taemin. Is it okay with you?” he asked, smiling softly at Kibum.
The older could only nod again.
Taemin laughed.
“Great! If that’s so, welcome to your new job, Kibum-hyung!”
Maybe things were going to turn out okay finally.
___________________________________________________________________________
A/N: Okay, so I'm posting it, but I can't promise to post chapter 6 soon... but it won't be that late either. I don't know why I'm posting it right now, and not in May, as I wanted to, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to do so, so... here it is~
I have some oneshots in progress, hope to finish them soon.
Life's changed, I've changed, life is beautiful, I finally know that~
Now, in case you're wondering- Junho looks like this in this chapter:
I lost the exact pic that inspired me OTL.
Feels like I'm gonna include all of my 2PM biases in here... There's already Junsu and Taecyeon (in 'Each Beat'), now Junho... only Chanana's left x"D Though I love Wooyoung too... but, as for now, I won't include them, there are some more characters to come anyway.
I feel like this story is going to have about 20 chapters or something like that. It's kind of complicated and there's so many things to include, so... I just hope you'll stay with me until the end :)
Btw., I really love writing Taemin in here, he'll have his big role in this fic ^ ^ As well as all the others, but I won't tell you anything more~~
Ah, and Taemin looks like this:
I've started chapter 6, but as I said, I'm not sure when I'm going to end it, but hopefully it'll be here in 2 weeks the latest.
Okay, enough of that. I hope you liked this chapter.
/off to pretend to be learning
PS. There's going to be fluff, jsyk. Lots of it.
damn, I love this guy.