The Shadow Kissed Chapter Five
Title: The Shadow Kissed
Author: insanityplays
Rating: R
Pairing: KRY (Kyuhyun/Ryeowook/Yesung), Kangteuk, Hanchul. More to be added as revealed.
Characters: Psychic!Ryeowook, Psycho!Kyuhyun, Cop!Yesung, rest of Super Junior + M, appearances by DBSK, SNSD, and f(x)
Summary: After a nightmare Kim Jongwoon forwent paying any special attention to, he’s placed on a cold case fourteen years old where the only witness is a soon to be twenty-three year old man locked away in a mental “hospital” owned by the same people suspected for the murder/arson case of the Cho Family. Boring re-investigation aside, Jongwoon finds himself thrust into living his nightmare - only this time, it isn’t a dream.
Disclaimer: I do not own.
Warning: Includes, or will include, Angst, Drama, Romance, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Action, and Mystery. Also includes, or will include, paranormal activity, ghosts, attempted murder and murder.
Longest chapter yet.
New Characters Reveled. Characters updated.
THIS STORY IS ABANDONED AND WILL NOT BE COMPLETED. UPON REQUEST, I AM WILLING TO WRITE UP AN ADDITIONAL "CHAPTER" EXPLAINING THE REST OF THE STORYLINE AND HOW IT WAS MEANT TO END, BUT IT WILL NOT BE COMPLETED. The contents of this masterlist has been unlocked for those who still want to read the story; however, as I have already stated, it will not be updated at any point in its original capacity. Thank you for your interest and time.
- Chapter Five -
When he woke up, it was to blinding light and stark white walls that nearly suffocated him, making him feel claustrophobic and tied down in a room too small for comfort. His body immediately tensed, a sensation that seemed some how wrong to him, and he struggled to sit up.
He was unreasonably anxious when he found that he couldn’t. Something was anchoring him to the bed, something gripping tightly to his arm. It confused him, scared him, confined him, so he struggled, crying out when the thing only seemed to tighten, twisting with the skin of his arm.
One leg felt heavy, too heavy to be normal though he couldn’t seem to discern what was normal at this point, and there was a loud beeping in his ears, obnoxious and disconcerting. Everything was happening too fast and he couldn’t tell which end was up, couldn’t see straight.
When he realized something - someone? - was holding him down, he started screaming. “Get the hell off, what are you doing to me!? Let me go!”
And then he saw their faces.
Blank white faces with no features and voices coming from seemingly no where. He couldn’t make out the sounds; there was a loud ringing in his ears.
His body was sore, his thrashing only making it worse, and it felt like someone had stuck a branding iron through one ear and out the other. He struggled, screaming when the pain in his head only increased.
”Make it stop! Please, it hurts! Please, just leave me alone!” He withered against the sheets, body thrumming with adrenaline that screamed for him to run.
But everything was so bright, the ringing in his ears completely blocking out the voices around him, and he blinked, looking for the color he knew used to be there.
He didn’t want to return to the black.
And then he turned his head and caught sight of brown. Warm brown eyes and a bright smile that called to him, told him everything was going to be okay, but he knew, oh how he knew it was only a lie.
With a scream, it came back to him, and the weight on his body seemed to lift as a man in blue sprang away from him, suddenly terrified of the sounds he was making.
The woman who’d cooed at him when he’d first came awake stood a wispy form in front of him, kind eyes wrinkled in worry.
It was his mother, and with sudden comprehension, he realized there was no way she’d survived - that any of his family save himself had survived - and with such an anguished cry as any of the staff had ever heard, he sprang from the bed, screaming about murderers and how they’d burn in hell for what they’d done…
--
Yesung wasn’t any more prepared when he came awake from this nightmare then he had been for either of the last two as he sat up with quickened breathing and found himself dry heaving against his blankets, gagging on nothing and horrified, vision red.
All he could think about was the dream and why he’d dreamt again in the first place when Ryeowook had told him the nightmares went away, were unable to come through, when the Shadow Kissed spent time with a Psychic, but then Yesung realized it was because Ryeowook had been gone for hours, and that his lingering effects must have worn off enough for the spirit to come through.
With a tired, but breathless groan, Yesung collapsed back onto his bed, exhausted from the constant sleepless nights where he was haunted by nightmares and memories not his own, and aching with a pain he’d never had to deal with before - even as a police man.
His mind was spinning with images still, of faceless people and white rooms and wispy brown eyed women who symbolized the ghost of a mother.
All he could think of was how it was even possible he was seeing through the eyes of a boy, a man now, who wasn’t even dead, and how it didn’t make any sense that the insane would be just an empty husk with no soul, and yet he could come up with no other explanation for being haunted by a spirit who knew Kyuhyun’s mind and memories so well, so intimately, that it could show them to Yesung as if they were his own.
Rolling onto his side as his head spun, nausea rolling up in his stomach as he continued to gasp for breath, Yesung felt like he wanted to scream, and he could only imagine how Kyuhyun must feel when he came awake from nightmares that would be a hundred times worse to the one who’d already lived through them, locked away down in the recesses of the Psychiatric ward in a cell too small and dingy for comfort - the complete opposite of the hospital room he’d first woken up in, but exactly the same in an entirely different way.
Shivering against his blankets, Yesung wished this nightmare would end, but then he realized how stupid a wish it was when there was someone in this world who had to live it everyday.
Glancing at his clock, he found that it was only 3:32 AM, but he got up anyway and got ready to head to work. Later that afternoon, he was meeting Ryeowook at the old Cho estate.
--
Ryeowook was frustrated. As a Psychic Investigator, he was used to being the one who saw the visions and communicated with the ghosts, but every which way he turned on this case he was blocked off while Yesung dreamt of things Ryeowook was used to seeing moments after he’d walked onto the crime scene.
Ryeowook didn’t envy Yesung - far from it in fact. In any other case, he’d be relieved he didn’t have to see the visions, the re-plays of events long passed from spiritual residue left in places murderous acts, or even acts that produced high concentrations of energy, had occurred.
He was only frustrated because he couldn’t seem to pick up on anything, and he was far from used to that, was far from used to not seeing things, knowing things, that others didn’t know.
It didn’t help that twenty minutes ago Yesung had shown up at the crime scene and proceeded to tell Ryeowook what the place had looked like before it’d burned down when neither had ever set foot on the crime scene before in their lives.
“There used to be a horse corral out back, just on the other side of those woods,” he’d said, pointing to back of the burnt down house. “Even now there’s a hill that overlook’s the pasture the horses use to graze on, but the fencing is all shambles and broken down now, and the horses are long gone.” His voice had been sad, and Ryeowook had only been able to imagine what Yesung knew of those horses fate - imagine, something he’d never had to do on a case before.
Frustrated, he stomped his foot then, which had Yesung turning to stare at him with a raised eyebrow.
They were both in plain clothes - Yesung’s idea so that if anyone wondered by they could claim haunted house - and Ryeowook couldn’t help the stirring of heat in his lower belly.
The older man was undeniably good looking with his dark brown eyes rimmed in charcoal black eyeliner, ever so alluring, and dark brown hair, trim, with bangs that stopped short of his eyes, longer on the sides. He wore a jean jacket with the top three buttons undone, and a white wife beater underneath, and Ryeowook couldn’t help the attraction he felt for the other male.
“I swear there are no ghosts here,” he muttered, turning away from the man who hadn’t stopped getting on his nerves all afternoon, still annoyed at being unable to pick up on anything while Yesung could. Grinning, Yesung slung an arm over Ryeowook’s shoulder in a friendly gesture.
“Still not getting anything?” Ryeowook shrugged out from underneath his arm and sent him a glare.
“I don’t understand…” he mumbled, taking a few steps closer to the burnt remains of what used to be a house. “No one can say there wasn’t a high concentration of energy in this area when those people died, I can feel that, but I can’t see anything. It’s almost as if…as if all the spirits have gone away and taken every inch of spiritual residue with them.” His brow furrowed in consideration.
The crunch of gravel beneath Yesung’s feet told him the elder was moving to stand beside him again. They were quiet as they both continued to stare at the house in front of them in silent contemplation.
When he’d first arrived, it’d been to see Yesung’s car already parked and waiting for him with Yesung leaned up against the side, looking like he was just waiting for someone to come along and jump him. Ryeowook had shaken the thought off and gotten out of his own car to make his way towards Yesung.
“Tell me about that night,” he’d said, “And not as Junsu’s video attempt told it, but as you saw it.”
The details hadn’t done what Ryeowook had hoped - which was give him an idea of where to start looking - but he’d opened his mind anyway, looking for another spirit, and shivering when he was immediately hit by Yesung’s spirit pushing against his chest. He’d stumbled and shaken his head, amazed at the force with which he’d been pushed away so early on.
Ryeowook had a moment to wonder if maybe the spirit had hoped he’d be able to force Yesung where he wanted him, where something that could help this solve case may lay, if Ryeowook weren’t there to block him.
“Ryeowook,” Yesung suddenly said, turning to face the smaller man. Ryeowook inclined his head, giving Yesung his attention. “Can a spirit latch on to you if it’d never seen you before?” he inquired nonchalantly. Ryeowook glanced at him, curious.
“Not to my knowledge, why?”
“My dreams, my nightmares, there all from Kyuhyun’s point of view, from his memories, but I’d never psychically seen him before I was assigned to this case,” Yesung explained. Ryeowook’s lips turned up at the corners in humor.
“Jongwoon,” he laughed, saying the others first name for the first time, “Kyuhyun’s still alive. He couldn’t possibly be the spirit on you anyway.” Yesung nodded his acquiescence.
“That’s what I was thinking, so if that’s true, then couldn’t it be possible that the spirit’s that were haunting this place left it, taking every inch of residue with them, to find someone who could help them?” Ryeowook’s mouth opened to shoot the thought down, but he blinked and closed it when the idea filtered in. Yesung grinned triumphantly, and it was another smile Ryeowook was coming to hate.
“I know where Kyuhyun’s mother is, so it can’t be her, but what about the other three? The father? The sister? Even the baby, though that’s the least likely of all of them. What if one or both of these two took everything from this place because they needed it to show to the first person they came upon that could help them? It’s obviously not Kyuhyun, but whoever it is is showing me what Kyuhyun went through, what Kyuhyun saw, and what Kyuhyun felt. You said earlier it was possible for a living, breathing person to leave spiritual residue behind, so it makes sense, doesn’t it?” Ryeowook was dumbfounded.
He didn’t answer Yesung as he wondered up the three steps to the porch, reaching out with the calloused pads of his fingers to stroke the grains of the burnt wood that used to make up the front door. He shivered at the joy he felt permeate him - it had been the baby’s first birthday that night.
When he realized there was no sign of Kyuhyun in the air around him, he realized Yesung was right.
From behind him, Yesung watched passively, bemused and only able to guess at what Ryeowook was doing, what he was thinking, before he chuckled, causing Ryeowook to loose his train of thought and turn to look at him, brow furrowed.
“You don’t have to call me Jongwoon, you know. We’re working together now. Everyone call’s me Yesung.”
“I’m not everyone,” he answered flippantly, turning away from Yesung to go back to his work, looking for any sign of Kyuhyun’s feelings from the night of the murder. “And even if you are right,” he continued, unwilling to give Yesung the satisfaction of being correct, though Ryeowook was sure, “and they did take all of the spiritual residue to show you what happened from the perspective of the only person still alive, that would mean they would have left you a clue as well. Something that would tell you “this is important, investigate it.”” Ryeowook explained, moving off the porch to follow the burn trail left behind from the fire.
The grass it had eaten and the leaves it had touched had never grown back - some of the bushes wrapped around the porch of the house even still sported blackened leaves on the parts that were dead.
Yesung moved to follow after him.
“But how would they know whether or not I’d be able to tell they’d left me a message?” Ryeowook sent him an annoyed look.
“They’re spirits now Jongwoon, they had to know you’d find yourself a Psychic.” They fell silent again as they moved around the side of the house, Ryeowook with his hands trailing through the leaves of the plants. Yesung had said Kyuhyun hadn’t come out through the front or back door’s, but down through a crawl space that exited from the laundry room, so Ryeowook kept a look out for it, the only place he could think of to look for a message.
He knew he’d found the spot when he felt a shock of cold air hit him, and he crouched in front of a slightly blackened bush.
“This is where Kyuhyun came out of the house that night,” Yesung breathed.
Ryeowook turned to look at him. “There’s something they want to tell us.”
Before Yesung could respond, a bullet ricocheted off the house in front of them, and Yesung dropped to the floor, pulling Ryeowook close to him to roll into the woods just off to the side of the path they’d been on. Another bullet ricocheted off the tree trunk they’d retreated behind on their hands and knee’s, and then another and another until Yesung was standing up and pulling out his own gun, taking Ryeowook by the back of his shirt and throwing him into a bush.
Ryeowook didn’t wait for instruction, only pulled out his phone and dialed the police department, calling for back up as Yesung let loose his own round of bullets in the general vicinity the others were coming from. Reciprocating bullets came from across the small clearing, instead of from the area across from where they’d been moments before, and Yesung cursed beneath his breath.
They were surrounded.
They heard glass shatter and the thump of a body hitting the floor, and Ryeowook watched as Yesung bolted out from behind the tree trunk, crouched low as he took off for the back of the house. Without thinking, Ryeowook snapped his phone shut, ignoring the lady who told him to stay on the line with her, and took off behind Yesung.
Someone was in that house, and they were looking for something.
Ryeowook had no weapon, and no means with which to defend himself, but he moved as quickly as possible as he tried to avoid the gunfire, tried to avoid the shells as they bounced off the house. He heard a few break more glass, wondered if they’d inadvertently hit the person within, and then, with horror, wondered if they’d hit Yesung.
He cringed at the thought and took hastier steps, dropping to the floor when a gunshot pierced the window just above him. On hands and knee’s he scrambled forward, ducking into the open back door the minute he was close enough to get in, and with heavy breathing, flattened himself against the wall near by, listening.
It was eerily quiet except for the muffled gunshots from outside, and that in itself made Ryeowook freeze where he stood, too afraid to move farther inside the house without a gun to defend himself with.
The creak of a floorboard had Ryeowook shuffling against the burnt and half destroyed wall to the archway leading from the small division off of the kitchen he stood in, and he peaked around the corner carefully, looking for any signs of life on the hardwood floor that made up the kitchen.
He saw no one, not even Yesung, but pulled back, flat against the wall. Whoever was there had to be near by.
There were only so many parts of the house that would be hardwood.
Another gunshot pierced the glass of another window, and Ryeowook squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable sound of someone’s body collapsing against something, knowing he wouldn’t be able to tell if it was the bad guy, or Yesung, but the sound never came, and Ryeowook let out a breathe of relief.
Another creak of another floorboard and Ryeowook was peeking around the corner again, only this sound seemed farther away, and he wasn’t sure if that meant it was a different person, or if that person was moving away from where he was, instead of towards.
Carefully, Ryeowook moved around the archway, careful with his steps and successfully avoiding making a sound on the flooring. He came into the darkened room of the kitchen despite it being late afternoon outside, and took in fully the damage that had been done on the houses interior. The whole kitchen was blackened and charred, and the floor was weak in some places as Ryeowook found out when he moved forward a step.
The floor didn’t give way, nor did it make a sound, but Ryeowook cringed and staked out each step with his toe before he took it, watching his surroundings as he did so. Another creak and the sound of hurried footsteps had Ryeowook lowering himself to the ground behind a kitchen counter.
It sounded like it was coming from upstairs, and Ryeowook glanced up, taking in the sunken in flooring of whatever room was directly above him.
Immediately, Ryeowook recognized it for what it was, and realized just where in the house he sat.
Cautiously checking the area around him, he moved to exit the kitchen, stepping down on charred carpeting, most of which was burned to ash, and looked to his right, finding the staircase just as he’d known he would. He was just taking the first step up when he heard a creak downstairs, and thoughts flickering back to the sunken ceiling he’d observed, he opted for following the other lead.
Either he’d find Yesung and be able to tell him where the other man was, or he’d find the intruder and think of a way to incapacitate him himself without risking falling through the ceiling.
He turned from the stairway with its burned away railing and moved to walk down the hallway next to it, glancing around himself for any sign of stray movement, taking in the doorway at the end of the hallway and the twin doors on either side three quarters of the way down. Behind him, he could see the charred remains of the living room.
Despite his cautious steps, half way down the hallway something gave way beneath him with a loud groan, and he cringed, freezing where he was.
No sound followed his screw up. In fact, even the gunshots from outside seemed to have stopped, but then Ryeowook heard the sound of sirens headed to the clearing they sat in the middle of, and he realized just why that was.
With another cautious step around the hole in the flooring he’d made, Ryeowook carefully made his way to the twin doorways. Both were open, as was the one at the very end of the hallway, and with no gun, Ryeowook knew this was going to be the tricky part.
He needed a game plan, but he had none, nor did he have any time. A creak was his only warning, and then there was a man with a gun standing in front of him, and a gun hitting him across the cheek. He heard the bone crack.
He didn’t get a chance to take in the man’s appearance or make a sound as a gun was pressed to his temple, an arm wrapped around his neck, and a hand secured over his mouth. He was turned so his back was to the man’s chest, and then he was dragged backwards into the room on the right, cheek aching and protesting against the weight settled against it.
The room they moved into turned out to be what was left of the laundry room. On one end of the room was a large gaping hole with black around the edges that opened into the master bedroom that had been the door at the end of the hallway. A small partition on the side of the room held a large cabinet with what was left of its double doors open. It was the linen closest, or what remained of it after being eaten by the fire, and Ryeowook knew it was the one with the hole that lead beneath the house.
Before Ryeowook could find out what the man was doing in the room, Yesung appeared, gun pointed at the suspect. His eyes widened when he realized Ryeowook was in his hold, and all Ryeowook could do was wonder how Yesung had gotten down the stairs without being heard.
The man holding him was visibly surprised as he stiffened behind Ryeowook, having thought only one person had followed him into the house, but he didn’t relax his position in the slightest.
“Shoot and he’s dead,” the man said gruffly. Ryeowook watched as Yesung’s eyes flickered about the room, never really taking them off the situation at hand. Yesung’s hand’s tightened on the gun he held in front of him.
“Lower your gun,” the man growled, taking off the safety on his own gun. Ryeowook’s eyes widened and he watched as Yesung flipped the safety off his own gun as well.
“I said lower your gun!” the man shouted, jamming the barrel of his gun harder into Ryeowook’s temple. If he could have, he would have whimpered. Yesung held steady.
“Lower your gun or I shoot him!” Yesung’s arm’s dropped slightly and Ryeowook watched as his adam’s apple bobbed. Taking a step back out of the room, Yesung took one hand off his gun and put them both up in the air. Ryeowook let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
He didn’t put much value on his own life, but he found he didn’t want to die. Not right then, maybe not at all, even when he hadn’t cared in the least about his life any other time he’d been put in a similar situation.
“Alright, what do you want?” Yesung asked with a steady voice, eyes hard.
“Let me get out of here unharmed and I’ll let him go,” the man behind him bargained. Yesung shook his head slowly.
“I can’t do that.”
“Do it or he dies!”
“There are cops out there, I can’t guarantee your safety after you walk out that door,” Yesung reasoned, voice rising.
“That’s a lie! Call them!” the man barked, jamming the gun harder against Ryeowook. It slipped and slammed into his hurt cheek bone. Ryeowook’s whimper was loud enough it was heard despite the hand over his mouth.
Yesung’s hands immediately returned to his gun as he pointed it at the man again, not wavering in the slightest.
“Lower your weapon!” Yesung growled then. Ryeowook felt the man behind him shake his head.
“Call them or I shoot!”
“Lower your weapon!” Yesung shouted. His eyes were steel.
“Call them!” the man roared, finger twitching on the trigger, but Yesung was faster, and his own gun went off before the man’s could, shooting him in the wrist where he clutched the gun. He howled and dropped it, releasing Ryeowook as well, and Ryeowook dropped to the floor to get away as Yesung took aim again, shooting the man in the chest.
The man dropped to the floor, and Ryeowook didn’t even blink as he saw the blood start to seep across the already blackened floorboards.
--
As the men in the ambulance took care of Ryeowook’s hurt cheek, Yesung stood talking with the chief, recounting the details of the afternoon as the sky turned dark around them. It was twilight.
“Was there any way you could have gotten out of that situation without shooting the man?” Heechul asked when he was done, eyes narrowed, in Chief mode. Yesung hesitated. “Well?” Heechul prompted, ever the impatient one.
“I-not that I could think of with the tiny window of opportunity I had to act,” Yesung finally said, avoiding the admittance of anything. If he were honest with himself, he’d wanted to kill that man the minute he’d walked in the room to see him with his arm wrapped around Ryeowook the way it was, but instead of a gun in his hand, he’d seen a knife, and the face had been that of the man who’d held a knife to the mother’s throat in his dream.
If Heechul knew, he’d be off the case. To the Police Chief, he was better off alive and telling secrets than dead, but Yesung didn’t quite see it that way, especially not when Ryeowook had whimpered in pain. All Yesung had been able to see was red, and a baby as it was shot and a little girl’s face as a man thought to rape her and Kyuhyun as he ran into that room and tried to prevent his mother’s death.
Yesung wouldn’t regret what he’d done, and he sure as hell wouldn’t tell Heechul. He’d carry this secret to his grave.
With narrowed eyes, Heechul stared Yesung down, looking for any sign of weakness in his claims, and nodded in satisfaction when he didn’t. “What do you think he was looking for?” he asked then.
“I don’t know, but he didn’t manage to find it before I got to him. If it’s evidence, something that we can convict them with, then it’s not safe to leave the house unattended. I don’t know where whatever he was looking for is, I didn’t get to ask, but we need more time.”
Heechul nodded his understanding, and turned away when he heard a call of his name. Kim Kibum was making his way over to where Yesung and Heechul stood apart from the rest of the fray, black hair waving in the wind of the cool night.
He was as much a frequent visitor of Yesung’s headquarters as Kangin was, and a close friend of Yesung’s. Whenever he came down to visit his boyfriend Hyukjae, he made sure to drop in on Yesung as well.
His face was soft and young, bellying his age of 24, but there was a hardness in his eyes crafted from enough time spent on the force. They all had their own defense against the things they had to see.
Nodding at Yesung, Kibum begin speaking to Heechul, diverting the older man’s attention, and Yesung turned away from them to look at Ryeowook who was just hopping out of the back of the ambulance, heading his way.
Yesung moved to meet him half way. Before Ryeowook could even open his mouth to speak, Yesung cut him off.
“Let me take you out for a drink.”
--
Drinking was one of Yesung’s favorite past times, one of his best defense mechanisms, even if he was horrible at it, and after a day like today, he had no qualms about taking Ryeowook out to his favorite bar. It was nearing 6:30 in the evening, and the sun had already hidden behind the horizon, but it was the perfect time for a night out.
“On me,” he declared the minute they’d walked into the small room, much to Ryeowook’s annoyance.
“I’m not poor Jongwoon,” he growled, to which Yesung only grinned, moving inside and sitting down on a stool at the bar. “Could’ve fooled me,” was his good natured reply, but there was more behind it, a question, and they both knew it.
They were quiet as they ordered their drinks, and quiet as they waited for them, still digesting the days events. Yesung had to wonder how Ryeowook was taking it all, having his life threatened like he had, watching as Yesung shot a man down, but he held back his questions in favor of the silence. Ryeowook’s morose expression said he preferred it that way.
Their drinks came after a few moment of silence, and in quiet camaraderie, they both took up their glasses for a drink. Ryeowook’s was more of a sip, and when he lowered the glass, he stared into its depths, swirling the light brown liquid around the ice.
“When I was a kid,” he started quietly, “a very good friend of mine’s brother died in an accident at school.” His words were nonchalant, and Yesung didn’t know where he was going with this, but he was curious as he took a swig of his own drink and waited for Ryeowook to go on.
“I consoled him as best as a fourteen year old could when he found out, but he was a mess. He was very close to his brother,” Ryeowook explained, glancing at Yesung out of the corner of his eye. “Everyone thought it was an accident in the beginning, and the other kid involved got off with a slap on the wrist…but then Sungmin started having the dreams.”
It was the name that hit him first, that caught his attention at the very idea of this Sungmin and the Sungmin at the Psychiatric ward being one in the same, but he didn’t interrupt to ask, suddenly more intrigued at the idea of another Shadow Kissed. He turned his gaze from Ryeowook’s face to stare instead at the far wall, silent as he waited for Ryeowook to go on.
“At that point Sungmin was avoiding me, avoiding everyone. He’d been out of school the entire week preceding his brother’s death, and it was enough time for his dreams to progress to the point where he saw the truth, saw what had really happened to his brother. He dreamt of the other boy involved bullying Sungjin into passiveness, watched as the other grew rougher and rougher, meaner and meaner, until finally, he pushed Sungjin off the roof of the school building.” Yesung didn’t turn to look back at Ryeowook, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see how the other shook, either out of anger or grief, Yesung couldn’t tell. He took a swig of his own drink, relishing in the bitter taste of it on his tongue.
“By that time,” Ryeowook finally said after taking a large swill from his own glass, “Sungmin was afraid of what he was seeing in his dreams. He was confused and scared when he came to me, looking for help from the only person he knew he could get it from.”
“You,” Yesung stated quietly. Ryeowook nodded.
“He was the only one besides my parents who knew, at that time, what I could do, and my father would’ve been pissed if he’d known for how long Sungmin knew, but my father had no idea. He didn’t particularly like the fact that I could…that I could see things like I could,” Ryeowook said bitterly, “but I did research behind his back anyway, trying to find out what was happening to my best friend, trying to understand what I could do to help.
“It didn’t take long to figure it out, especially not when Sungjin’s spirit started trying to push me away. Sungmin’s subconscious wasn’t just making these things up, they were his brother’s memories.”
“So what did you do? Go to the police?” Ryeowook shook his head.
“How could we? No one knew I had psychic abilities, and my father would kill me if he’d known I’d even told Sungmin. These were dreams Sungmin was having after losing a brother to a so called “accident,” and all the police were going to say was that Sungmin was just making it all up so he could find consolation over “something that couldn’t have been prevented.” No one would have believed us if we’d told them it was the truth.” Yesung turned and watched as Ryeowook drowned the rest of his drink in one go and ordered another.
“What did you do, then?” Yesung prompted. Ryeowook glanced his way.
“The only thing I could do. I stood by Sungmin when he went to the police anyway, trying to convince them that the other male involved had been bullying his brother, and snuck out of my house at night to sleep by his side to keep the nightmares away. At school, I held his hand every minute of the day. It didn’t matter that everyone thought we were gay. With Sungmin, it was the only way to keep the coldness away.” Ryeowook only shrugged at Yesung’s frown.
“You know as well as I do that’s how things work in Korea,” he said in a morose tone. “Anyway, Sungmin’s parents were told about Sungmin’s accusations, as well as the other boy’s family, and then came the mass hysteria. They couldn’t understand why Sungmin would say such a thing, and when the other boy’s parents came to their doorstep screaming at them for the allegations made against their son, they could do nothing but sit back and take the abuse.
“That’s when I decided it was time to tell my best friends parents what I could do. The least I could do was console them, right?” but his face was even darker then than it had been before. “My father was pissed the minute he found out, and he came at me with a knife then, saying I wasn’t his child, screaming I was the Devil’s, and it was Sungmin’s parents who saved me from him. They were on my side. They believed me, miraculously. I have no doubts my father would have killed me right then and there if they hadn’t gotten in his way.” Yesung didn’t have a response for that as he stared hard into his almost empty glass. Ryeowook’s tone was so flippant Yesung almost wished the other’s father were standing right in front of him so he could sock him in the face for what he’d done.
“Sungmin’s parents fought hard for me, even taking it as far as the legal system to get me away from my father. By that time, my mother had been long dead, and Sungmin’s parents took me in despite the fact that I could do nothing to aid in the injustice done against their son, could do nothing but fend off the bully who’s unreasonable hatred had transferred from Sungjin, to his brother, and I’ll always be grateful for that fact, always be indebted to them,” Ryeowook finished, staring sullenly into his glass again. Yesung cleared his throat.
“Why did you tell me this?”
“The police never believed us when we told them the basis for our claims. They never dug deeper to find out if Sungjin really had been bullied or not, and when Sungjin’s spirit finally left, I decided right then and there that I owed Sungmin’s family everything. I live in a run down apartment because every little bit of money that I make I send to them and Sungmin. They gave up trying to send it back year’s ago, and Sungmin switched to taking me out for lunch every chance he get’s when he realized I wouldn’t take it back,” Ryeowook admitted softly, drowning the light brown liquid of his drink in one go again. Yesung turned to the bartender then, and with a perfectly straight face, ordered the strongest thing they had.
In response to Ryeowook’s cocked eyebrow, Yesung only grinned, and when a bottle of whiskey was set in front of him along with two shot glasses, he poured them both a shot. Raising his cup in mock toast, he said “Let’s get smashed.”
--
Thinking back on it, Yesung wondered if getting drunk like they had, had been the best idea he’d had that night as he stumbled up the stairs to his flat with Ryeowook flush against him, lips against his as they devoured each other’s mouths.
His fingers fumbled with his keys as he tried to shove them into the keyhole, and Ryeowook’s mouth on his neck and his legs around his waist weren’t doing him any good, especially not when he rolled his hips against his erection like he did.
He barely remembered to slam the door shut, and it was habit that had his fingers turning the lock on the doorknob, and then he was stumbling into his bedroom with Ryeowook wrapped around him like a vine. He threw the younger man onto the bed beneath him, and Ryeowook’s limbs were attached to his again immediately when he climbed on top, hungrily lapping at the hollow in Yesung’s throat until Yesung was moaning against him, tugging at the hem of his shirt.
He wasn’t sure how he managed to get it off, wasn’t even sure if Ryeowook’s lips actually left his skin when he did, but he hardly cared with Ryeowook’s beautiful but thin torso bared beneath him.
The hard erection pressing against the fly of his pants prevented him from doing what he wanted - which was to lick a hot path down the younger man’s torso - and he moved his hands instead to Ryeowook’s pants, pulling down the zipper and undoing the button as fast as he could, discarding both them and his boxers in one go.
Ryeowook’s throaty moan at the feel of cold air against his heated erection only made Yesung ache more with need, but he found himself sidetracked by the silky feel of skin beneath his fingers when he drew them down Ryeowook’s erect member.
“Jongwoon, Jongwoon,” Ryeowook cried, sitting up to drag his mouth back to his, pushing Yesung’s hand away in the process, locking them in a fierce kiss. “Inside me, now,” he managed to growl, panting, and Yesung couldn’t refuse.
They both fumbled with Yesung’s shirt as they tried to pull it off of him, giggling when it got caught around Yesung’s neck, but they weren’t giggling when Ryeowook reached down to unzip Yesung’s pants and Yesung let out a throaty moan at the drunken touch.
Ryeowook had Yesung unclothed faster than Yesung had managed the others clothing, and he pushed Yesung down into a sitting position as he climbed on top of him, into his lap, and wrapped his legs around his waist.
Lips next to his ear, hot breathe puffing against the shell, he whispered “Fuck me,” the words almost sounding sober except for the slight tremble in his voice, and Yesung didn’t wait for another plead, only plunged in without even the barest hint of preparation. Ryeowook took it well with a loud cry, throwing his head back in pain and ecstasy, eyes clenched shut, throat bared.
Yesung found his lips attached to the exposed column of his throat, and when he thrust in, he sucked, biting into the soft skin and laving at the hurt, nearly bending Ryeowook over backwards with the angle of his thrusts.
As both their orgasms loomed, Ryeowook found that he couldn’t complain.
--
Masterlist/Character Information
Author: insanityplays
Rating: R
Pairing: KRY (Kyuhyun/Ryeowook/Yesung), Kangteuk, Hanchul. More to be added as revealed.
Characters: Psychic!Ryeowook, Psycho!Kyuhyun, Cop!Yesung, rest of Super Junior + M, appearances by DBSK, SNSD, and f(x)
Summary: After a nightmare Kim Jongwoon forwent paying any special attention to, he’s placed on a cold case fourteen years old where the only witness is a soon to be twenty-three year old man locked away in a mental “hospital” owned by the same people suspected for the murder/arson case of the Cho Family. Boring re-investigation aside, Jongwoon finds himself thrust into living his nightmare - only this time, it isn’t a dream.
Disclaimer: I do not own.
Warning: Includes, or will include, Angst, Drama, Romance, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Action, and Mystery. Also includes, or will include, paranormal activity, ghosts, attempted murder and murder.
Longest chapter yet.
New Characters Reveled. Characters updated.
THIS STORY IS ABANDONED AND WILL NOT BE COMPLETED. UPON REQUEST, I AM WILLING TO WRITE UP AN ADDITIONAL "CHAPTER" EXPLAINING THE REST OF THE STORYLINE AND HOW IT WAS MEANT TO END, BUT IT WILL NOT BE COMPLETED. The contents of this masterlist has been unlocked for those who still want to read the story; however, as I have already stated, it will not be updated at any point in its original capacity. Thank you for your interest and time.
- Chapter Five -
When he woke up, it was to blinding light and stark white walls that nearly suffocated him, making him feel claustrophobic and tied down in a room too small for comfort. His body immediately tensed, a sensation that seemed some how wrong to him, and he struggled to sit up.
He was unreasonably anxious when he found that he couldn’t. Something was anchoring him to the bed, something gripping tightly to his arm. It confused him, scared him, confined him, so he struggled, crying out when the thing only seemed to tighten, twisting with the skin of his arm.
One leg felt heavy, too heavy to be normal though he couldn’t seem to discern what was normal at this point, and there was a loud beeping in his ears, obnoxious and disconcerting. Everything was happening too fast and he couldn’t tell which end was up, couldn’t see straight.
When he realized something - someone? - was holding him down, he started screaming. “Get the hell off, what are you doing to me!? Let me go!”
And then he saw their faces.
Blank white faces with no features and voices coming from seemingly no where. He couldn’t make out the sounds; there was a loud ringing in his ears.
His body was sore, his thrashing only making it worse, and it felt like someone had stuck a branding iron through one ear and out the other. He struggled, screaming when the pain in his head only increased.
”Make it stop! Please, it hurts! Please, just leave me alone!” He withered against the sheets, body thrumming with adrenaline that screamed for him to run.
But everything was so bright, the ringing in his ears completely blocking out the voices around him, and he blinked, looking for the color he knew used to be there.
He didn’t want to return to the black.
And then he turned his head and caught sight of brown. Warm brown eyes and a bright smile that called to him, told him everything was going to be okay, but he knew, oh how he knew it was only a lie.
With a scream, it came back to him, and the weight on his body seemed to lift as a man in blue sprang away from him, suddenly terrified of the sounds he was making.
The woman who’d cooed at him when he’d first came awake stood a wispy form in front of him, kind eyes wrinkled in worry.
It was his mother, and with sudden comprehension, he realized there was no way she’d survived - that any of his family save himself had survived - and with such an anguished cry as any of the staff had ever heard, he sprang from the bed, screaming about murderers and how they’d burn in hell for what they’d done…
--
Yesung wasn’t any more prepared when he came awake from this nightmare then he had been for either of the last two as he sat up with quickened breathing and found himself dry heaving against his blankets, gagging on nothing and horrified, vision red.
All he could think about was the dream and why he’d dreamt again in the first place when Ryeowook had told him the nightmares went away, were unable to come through, when the Shadow Kissed spent time with a Psychic, but then Yesung realized it was because Ryeowook had been gone for hours, and that his lingering effects must have worn off enough for the spirit to come through.
With a tired, but breathless groan, Yesung collapsed back onto his bed, exhausted from the constant sleepless nights where he was haunted by nightmares and memories not his own, and aching with a pain he’d never had to deal with before - even as a police man.
His mind was spinning with images still, of faceless people and white rooms and wispy brown eyed women who symbolized the ghost of a mother.
All he could think of was how it was even possible he was seeing through the eyes of a boy, a man now, who wasn’t even dead, and how it didn’t make any sense that the insane would be just an empty husk with no soul, and yet he could come up with no other explanation for being haunted by a spirit who knew Kyuhyun’s mind and memories so well, so intimately, that it could show them to Yesung as if they were his own.
Rolling onto his side as his head spun, nausea rolling up in his stomach as he continued to gasp for breath, Yesung felt like he wanted to scream, and he could only imagine how Kyuhyun must feel when he came awake from nightmares that would be a hundred times worse to the one who’d already lived through them, locked away down in the recesses of the Psychiatric ward in a cell too small and dingy for comfort - the complete opposite of the hospital room he’d first woken up in, but exactly the same in an entirely different way.
Shivering against his blankets, Yesung wished this nightmare would end, but then he realized how stupid a wish it was when there was someone in this world who had to live it everyday.
Glancing at his clock, he found that it was only 3:32 AM, but he got up anyway and got ready to head to work. Later that afternoon, he was meeting Ryeowook at the old Cho estate.
--
Ryeowook was frustrated. As a Psychic Investigator, he was used to being the one who saw the visions and communicated with the ghosts, but every which way he turned on this case he was blocked off while Yesung dreamt of things Ryeowook was used to seeing moments after he’d walked onto the crime scene.
Ryeowook didn’t envy Yesung - far from it in fact. In any other case, he’d be relieved he didn’t have to see the visions, the re-plays of events long passed from spiritual residue left in places murderous acts, or even acts that produced high concentrations of energy, had occurred.
He was only frustrated because he couldn’t seem to pick up on anything, and he was far from used to that, was far from used to not seeing things, knowing things, that others didn’t know.
It didn’t help that twenty minutes ago Yesung had shown up at the crime scene and proceeded to tell Ryeowook what the place had looked like before it’d burned down when neither had ever set foot on the crime scene before in their lives.
“There used to be a horse corral out back, just on the other side of those woods,” he’d said, pointing to back of the burnt down house. “Even now there’s a hill that overlook’s the pasture the horses use to graze on, but the fencing is all shambles and broken down now, and the horses are long gone.” His voice had been sad, and Ryeowook had only been able to imagine what Yesung knew of those horses fate - imagine, something he’d never had to do on a case before.
Frustrated, he stomped his foot then, which had Yesung turning to stare at him with a raised eyebrow.
They were both in plain clothes - Yesung’s idea so that if anyone wondered by they could claim haunted house - and Ryeowook couldn’t help the stirring of heat in his lower belly.
The older man was undeniably good looking with his dark brown eyes rimmed in charcoal black eyeliner, ever so alluring, and dark brown hair, trim, with bangs that stopped short of his eyes, longer on the sides. He wore a jean jacket with the top three buttons undone, and a white wife beater underneath, and Ryeowook couldn’t help the attraction he felt for the other male.
“I swear there are no ghosts here,” he muttered, turning away from the man who hadn’t stopped getting on his nerves all afternoon, still annoyed at being unable to pick up on anything while Yesung could. Grinning, Yesung slung an arm over Ryeowook’s shoulder in a friendly gesture.
“Still not getting anything?” Ryeowook shrugged out from underneath his arm and sent him a glare.
“I don’t understand…” he mumbled, taking a few steps closer to the burnt remains of what used to be a house. “No one can say there wasn’t a high concentration of energy in this area when those people died, I can feel that, but I can’t see anything. It’s almost as if…as if all the spirits have gone away and taken every inch of spiritual residue with them.” His brow furrowed in consideration.
The crunch of gravel beneath Yesung’s feet told him the elder was moving to stand beside him again. They were quiet as they both continued to stare at the house in front of them in silent contemplation.
When he’d first arrived, it’d been to see Yesung’s car already parked and waiting for him with Yesung leaned up against the side, looking like he was just waiting for someone to come along and jump him. Ryeowook had shaken the thought off and gotten out of his own car to make his way towards Yesung.
“Tell me about that night,” he’d said, “And not as Junsu’s video attempt told it, but as you saw it.”
The details hadn’t done what Ryeowook had hoped - which was give him an idea of where to start looking - but he’d opened his mind anyway, looking for another spirit, and shivering when he was immediately hit by Yesung’s spirit pushing against his chest. He’d stumbled and shaken his head, amazed at the force with which he’d been pushed away so early on.
Ryeowook had a moment to wonder if maybe the spirit had hoped he’d be able to force Yesung where he wanted him, where something that could help this solve case may lay, if Ryeowook weren’t there to block him.
“Ryeowook,” Yesung suddenly said, turning to face the smaller man. Ryeowook inclined his head, giving Yesung his attention. “Can a spirit latch on to you if it’d never seen you before?” he inquired nonchalantly. Ryeowook glanced at him, curious.
“Not to my knowledge, why?”
“My dreams, my nightmares, there all from Kyuhyun’s point of view, from his memories, but I’d never psychically seen him before I was assigned to this case,” Yesung explained. Ryeowook’s lips turned up at the corners in humor.
“Jongwoon,” he laughed, saying the others first name for the first time, “Kyuhyun’s still alive. He couldn’t possibly be the spirit on you anyway.” Yesung nodded his acquiescence.
“That’s what I was thinking, so if that’s true, then couldn’t it be possible that the spirit’s that were haunting this place left it, taking every inch of residue with them, to find someone who could help them?” Ryeowook’s mouth opened to shoot the thought down, but he blinked and closed it when the idea filtered in. Yesung grinned triumphantly, and it was another smile Ryeowook was coming to hate.
“I know where Kyuhyun’s mother is, so it can’t be her, but what about the other three? The father? The sister? Even the baby, though that’s the least likely of all of them. What if one or both of these two took everything from this place because they needed it to show to the first person they came upon that could help them? It’s obviously not Kyuhyun, but whoever it is is showing me what Kyuhyun went through, what Kyuhyun saw, and what Kyuhyun felt. You said earlier it was possible for a living, breathing person to leave spiritual residue behind, so it makes sense, doesn’t it?” Ryeowook was dumbfounded.
He didn’t answer Yesung as he wondered up the three steps to the porch, reaching out with the calloused pads of his fingers to stroke the grains of the burnt wood that used to make up the front door. He shivered at the joy he felt permeate him - it had been the baby’s first birthday that night.
When he realized there was no sign of Kyuhyun in the air around him, he realized Yesung was right.
From behind him, Yesung watched passively, bemused and only able to guess at what Ryeowook was doing, what he was thinking, before he chuckled, causing Ryeowook to loose his train of thought and turn to look at him, brow furrowed.
“You don’t have to call me Jongwoon, you know. We’re working together now. Everyone call’s me Yesung.”
“I’m not everyone,” he answered flippantly, turning away from Yesung to go back to his work, looking for any sign of Kyuhyun’s feelings from the night of the murder. “And even if you are right,” he continued, unwilling to give Yesung the satisfaction of being correct, though Ryeowook was sure, “and they did take all of the spiritual residue to show you what happened from the perspective of the only person still alive, that would mean they would have left you a clue as well. Something that would tell you “this is important, investigate it.”” Ryeowook explained, moving off the porch to follow the burn trail left behind from the fire.
The grass it had eaten and the leaves it had touched had never grown back - some of the bushes wrapped around the porch of the house even still sported blackened leaves on the parts that were dead.
Yesung moved to follow after him.
“But how would they know whether or not I’d be able to tell they’d left me a message?” Ryeowook sent him an annoyed look.
“They’re spirits now Jongwoon, they had to know you’d find yourself a Psychic.” They fell silent again as they moved around the side of the house, Ryeowook with his hands trailing through the leaves of the plants. Yesung had said Kyuhyun hadn’t come out through the front or back door’s, but down through a crawl space that exited from the laundry room, so Ryeowook kept a look out for it, the only place he could think of to look for a message.
He knew he’d found the spot when he felt a shock of cold air hit him, and he crouched in front of a slightly blackened bush.
“This is where Kyuhyun came out of the house that night,” Yesung breathed.
Ryeowook turned to look at him. “There’s something they want to tell us.”
Before Yesung could respond, a bullet ricocheted off the house in front of them, and Yesung dropped to the floor, pulling Ryeowook close to him to roll into the woods just off to the side of the path they’d been on. Another bullet ricocheted off the tree trunk they’d retreated behind on their hands and knee’s, and then another and another until Yesung was standing up and pulling out his own gun, taking Ryeowook by the back of his shirt and throwing him into a bush.
Ryeowook didn’t wait for instruction, only pulled out his phone and dialed the police department, calling for back up as Yesung let loose his own round of bullets in the general vicinity the others were coming from. Reciprocating bullets came from across the small clearing, instead of from the area across from where they’d been moments before, and Yesung cursed beneath his breath.
They were surrounded.
They heard glass shatter and the thump of a body hitting the floor, and Ryeowook watched as Yesung bolted out from behind the tree trunk, crouched low as he took off for the back of the house. Without thinking, Ryeowook snapped his phone shut, ignoring the lady who told him to stay on the line with her, and took off behind Yesung.
Someone was in that house, and they were looking for something.
Ryeowook had no weapon, and no means with which to defend himself, but he moved as quickly as possible as he tried to avoid the gunfire, tried to avoid the shells as they bounced off the house. He heard a few break more glass, wondered if they’d inadvertently hit the person within, and then, with horror, wondered if they’d hit Yesung.
He cringed at the thought and took hastier steps, dropping to the floor when a gunshot pierced the window just above him. On hands and knee’s he scrambled forward, ducking into the open back door the minute he was close enough to get in, and with heavy breathing, flattened himself against the wall near by, listening.
It was eerily quiet except for the muffled gunshots from outside, and that in itself made Ryeowook freeze where he stood, too afraid to move farther inside the house without a gun to defend himself with.
The creak of a floorboard had Ryeowook shuffling against the burnt and half destroyed wall to the archway leading from the small division off of the kitchen he stood in, and he peaked around the corner carefully, looking for any signs of life on the hardwood floor that made up the kitchen.
He saw no one, not even Yesung, but pulled back, flat against the wall. Whoever was there had to be near by.
There were only so many parts of the house that would be hardwood.
Another gunshot pierced the glass of another window, and Ryeowook squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable sound of someone’s body collapsing against something, knowing he wouldn’t be able to tell if it was the bad guy, or Yesung, but the sound never came, and Ryeowook let out a breathe of relief.
Another creak of another floorboard and Ryeowook was peeking around the corner again, only this sound seemed farther away, and he wasn’t sure if that meant it was a different person, or if that person was moving away from where he was, instead of towards.
Carefully, Ryeowook moved around the archway, careful with his steps and successfully avoiding making a sound on the flooring. He came into the darkened room of the kitchen despite it being late afternoon outside, and took in fully the damage that had been done on the houses interior. The whole kitchen was blackened and charred, and the floor was weak in some places as Ryeowook found out when he moved forward a step.
The floor didn’t give way, nor did it make a sound, but Ryeowook cringed and staked out each step with his toe before he took it, watching his surroundings as he did so. Another creak and the sound of hurried footsteps had Ryeowook lowering himself to the ground behind a kitchen counter.
It sounded like it was coming from upstairs, and Ryeowook glanced up, taking in the sunken in flooring of whatever room was directly above him.
Immediately, Ryeowook recognized it for what it was, and realized just where in the house he sat.
Cautiously checking the area around him, he moved to exit the kitchen, stepping down on charred carpeting, most of which was burned to ash, and looked to his right, finding the staircase just as he’d known he would. He was just taking the first step up when he heard a creak downstairs, and thoughts flickering back to the sunken ceiling he’d observed, he opted for following the other lead.
Either he’d find Yesung and be able to tell him where the other man was, or he’d find the intruder and think of a way to incapacitate him himself without risking falling through the ceiling.
He turned from the stairway with its burned away railing and moved to walk down the hallway next to it, glancing around himself for any sign of stray movement, taking in the doorway at the end of the hallway and the twin doors on either side three quarters of the way down. Behind him, he could see the charred remains of the living room.
Despite his cautious steps, half way down the hallway something gave way beneath him with a loud groan, and he cringed, freezing where he was.
No sound followed his screw up. In fact, even the gunshots from outside seemed to have stopped, but then Ryeowook heard the sound of sirens headed to the clearing they sat in the middle of, and he realized just why that was.
With another cautious step around the hole in the flooring he’d made, Ryeowook carefully made his way to the twin doorways. Both were open, as was the one at the very end of the hallway, and with no gun, Ryeowook knew this was going to be the tricky part.
He needed a game plan, but he had none, nor did he have any time. A creak was his only warning, and then there was a man with a gun standing in front of him, and a gun hitting him across the cheek. He heard the bone crack.
He didn’t get a chance to take in the man’s appearance or make a sound as a gun was pressed to his temple, an arm wrapped around his neck, and a hand secured over his mouth. He was turned so his back was to the man’s chest, and then he was dragged backwards into the room on the right, cheek aching and protesting against the weight settled against it.
The room they moved into turned out to be what was left of the laundry room. On one end of the room was a large gaping hole with black around the edges that opened into the master bedroom that had been the door at the end of the hallway. A small partition on the side of the room held a large cabinet with what was left of its double doors open. It was the linen closest, or what remained of it after being eaten by the fire, and Ryeowook knew it was the one with the hole that lead beneath the house.
Before Ryeowook could find out what the man was doing in the room, Yesung appeared, gun pointed at the suspect. His eyes widened when he realized Ryeowook was in his hold, and all Ryeowook could do was wonder how Yesung had gotten down the stairs without being heard.
The man holding him was visibly surprised as he stiffened behind Ryeowook, having thought only one person had followed him into the house, but he didn’t relax his position in the slightest.
“Shoot and he’s dead,” the man said gruffly. Ryeowook watched as Yesung’s eyes flickered about the room, never really taking them off the situation at hand. Yesung’s hand’s tightened on the gun he held in front of him.
“Lower your gun,” the man growled, taking off the safety on his own gun. Ryeowook’s eyes widened and he watched as Yesung flipped the safety off his own gun as well.
“I said lower your gun!” the man shouted, jamming the barrel of his gun harder into Ryeowook’s temple. If he could have, he would have whimpered. Yesung held steady.
“Lower your gun or I shoot him!” Yesung’s arm’s dropped slightly and Ryeowook watched as his adam’s apple bobbed. Taking a step back out of the room, Yesung took one hand off his gun and put them both up in the air. Ryeowook let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
He didn’t put much value on his own life, but he found he didn’t want to die. Not right then, maybe not at all, even when he hadn’t cared in the least about his life any other time he’d been put in a similar situation.
“Alright, what do you want?” Yesung asked with a steady voice, eyes hard.
“Let me get out of here unharmed and I’ll let him go,” the man behind him bargained. Yesung shook his head slowly.
“I can’t do that.”
“Do it or he dies!”
“There are cops out there, I can’t guarantee your safety after you walk out that door,” Yesung reasoned, voice rising.
“That’s a lie! Call them!” the man barked, jamming the gun harder against Ryeowook. It slipped and slammed into his hurt cheek bone. Ryeowook’s whimper was loud enough it was heard despite the hand over his mouth.
Yesung’s hands immediately returned to his gun as he pointed it at the man again, not wavering in the slightest.
“Lower your weapon!” Yesung growled then. Ryeowook felt the man behind him shake his head.
“Call them or I shoot!”
“Lower your weapon!” Yesung shouted. His eyes were steel.
“Call them!” the man roared, finger twitching on the trigger, but Yesung was faster, and his own gun went off before the man’s could, shooting him in the wrist where he clutched the gun. He howled and dropped it, releasing Ryeowook as well, and Ryeowook dropped to the floor to get away as Yesung took aim again, shooting the man in the chest.
The man dropped to the floor, and Ryeowook didn’t even blink as he saw the blood start to seep across the already blackened floorboards.
--
As the men in the ambulance took care of Ryeowook’s hurt cheek, Yesung stood talking with the chief, recounting the details of the afternoon as the sky turned dark around them. It was twilight.
“Was there any way you could have gotten out of that situation without shooting the man?” Heechul asked when he was done, eyes narrowed, in Chief mode. Yesung hesitated. “Well?” Heechul prompted, ever the impatient one.
“I-not that I could think of with the tiny window of opportunity I had to act,” Yesung finally said, avoiding the admittance of anything. If he were honest with himself, he’d wanted to kill that man the minute he’d walked in the room to see him with his arm wrapped around Ryeowook the way it was, but instead of a gun in his hand, he’d seen a knife, and the face had been that of the man who’d held a knife to the mother’s throat in his dream.
If Heechul knew, he’d be off the case. To the Police Chief, he was better off alive and telling secrets than dead, but Yesung didn’t quite see it that way, especially not when Ryeowook had whimpered in pain. All Yesung had been able to see was red, and a baby as it was shot and a little girl’s face as a man thought to rape her and Kyuhyun as he ran into that room and tried to prevent his mother’s death.
Yesung wouldn’t regret what he’d done, and he sure as hell wouldn’t tell Heechul. He’d carry this secret to his grave.
With narrowed eyes, Heechul stared Yesung down, looking for any sign of weakness in his claims, and nodded in satisfaction when he didn’t. “What do you think he was looking for?” he asked then.
“I don’t know, but he didn’t manage to find it before I got to him. If it’s evidence, something that we can convict them with, then it’s not safe to leave the house unattended. I don’t know where whatever he was looking for is, I didn’t get to ask, but we need more time.”
Heechul nodded his understanding, and turned away when he heard a call of his name. Kim Kibum was making his way over to where Yesung and Heechul stood apart from the rest of the fray, black hair waving in the wind of the cool night.
He was as much a frequent visitor of Yesung’s headquarters as Kangin was, and a close friend of Yesung’s. Whenever he came down to visit his boyfriend Hyukjae, he made sure to drop in on Yesung as well.
His face was soft and young, bellying his age of 24, but there was a hardness in his eyes crafted from enough time spent on the force. They all had their own defense against the things they had to see.
Nodding at Yesung, Kibum begin speaking to Heechul, diverting the older man’s attention, and Yesung turned away from them to look at Ryeowook who was just hopping out of the back of the ambulance, heading his way.
Yesung moved to meet him half way. Before Ryeowook could even open his mouth to speak, Yesung cut him off.
“Let me take you out for a drink.”
--
Drinking was one of Yesung’s favorite past times, one of his best defense mechanisms, even if he was horrible at it, and after a day like today, he had no qualms about taking Ryeowook out to his favorite bar. It was nearing 6:30 in the evening, and the sun had already hidden behind the horizon, but it was the perfect time for a night out.
“On me,” he declared the minute they’d walked into the small room, much to Ryeowook’s annoyance.
“I’m not poor Jongwoon,” he growled, to which Yesung only grinned, moving inside and sitting down on a stool at the bar. “Could’ve fooled me,” was his good natured reply, but there was more behind it, a question, and they both knew it.
They were quiet as they ordered their drinks, and quiet as they waited for them, still digesting the days events. Yesung had to wonder how Ryeowook was taking it all, having his life threatened like he had, watching as Yesung shot a man down, but he held back his questions in favor of the silence. Ryeowook’s morose expression said he preferred it that way.
Their drinks came after a few moment of silence, and in quiet camaraderie, they both took up their glasses for a drink. Ryeowook’s was more of a sip, and when he lowered the glass, he stared into its depths, swirling the light brown liquid around the ice.
“When I was a kid,” he started quietly, “a very good friend of mine’s brother died in an accident at school.” His words were nonchalant, and Yesung didn’t know where he was going with this, but he was curious as he took a swig of his own drink and waited for Ryeowook to go on.
“I consoled him as best as a fourteen year old could when he found out, but he was a mess. He was very close to his brother,” Ryeowook explained, glancing at Yesung out of the corner of his eye. “Everyone thought it was an accident in the beginning, and the other kid involved got off with a slap on the wrist…but then Sungmin started having the dreams.”
It was the name that hit him first, that caught his attention at the very idea of this Sungmin and the Sungmin at the Psychiatric ward being one in the same, but he didn’t interrupt to ask, suddenly more intrigued at the idea of another Shadow Kissed. He turned his gaze from Ryeowook’s face to stare instead at the far wall, silent as he waited for Ryeowook to go on.
“At that point Sungmin was avoiding me, avoiding everyone. He’d been out of school the entire week preceding his brother’s death, and it was enough time for his dreams to progress to the point where he saw the truth, saw what had really happened to his brother. He dreamt of the other boy involved bullying Sungjin into passiveness, watched as the other grew rougher and rougher, meaner and meaner, until finally, he pushed Sungjin off the roof of the school building.” Yesung didn’t turn to look back at Ryeowook, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see how the other shook, either out of anger or grief, Yesung couldn’t tell. He took a swig of his own drink, relishing in the bitter taste of it on his tongue.
“By that time,” Ryeowook finally said after taking a large swill from his own glass, “Sungmin was afraid of what he was seeing in his dreams. He was confused and scared when he came to me, looking for help from the only person he knew he could get it from.”
“You,” Yesung stated quietly. Ryeowook nodded.
“He was the only one besides my parents who knew, at that time, what I could do, and my father would’ve been pissed if he’d known for how long Sungmin knew, but my father had no idea. He didn’t particularly like the fact that I could…that I could see things like I could,” Ryeowook said bitterly, “but I did research behind his back anyway, trying to find out what was happening to my best friend, trying to understand what I could do to help.
“It didn’t take long to figure it out, especially not when Sungjin’s spirit started trying to push me away. Sungmin’s subconscious wasn’t just making these things up, they were his brother’s memories.”
“So what did you do? Go to the police?” Ryeowook shook his head.
“How could we? No one knew I had psychic abilities, and my father would kill me if he’d known I’d even told Sungmin. These were dreams Sungmin was having after losing a brother to a so called “accident,” and all the police were going to say was that Sungmin was just making it all up so he could find consolation over “something that couldn’t have been prevented.” No one would have believed us if we’d told them it was the truth.” Yesung turned and watched as Ryeowook drowned the rest of his drink in one go and ordered another.
“What did you do, then?” Yesung prompted. Ryeowook glanced his way.
“The only thing I could do. I stood by Sungmin when he went to the police anyway, trying to convince them that the other male involved had been bullying his brother, and snuck out of my house at night to sleep by his side to keep the nightmares away. At school, I held his hand every minute of the day. It didn’t matter that everyone thought we were gay. With Sungmin, it was the only way to keep the coldness away.” Ryeowook only shrugged at Yesung’s frown.
“You know as well as I do that’s how things work in Korea,” he said in a morose tone. “Anyway, Sungmin’s parents were told about Sungmin’s accusations, as well as the other boy’s family, and then came the mass hysteria. They couldn’t understand why Sungmin would say such a thing, and when the other boy’s parents came to their doorstep screaming at them for the allegations made against their son, they could do nothing but sit back and take the abuse.
“That’s when I decided it was time to tell my best friends parents what I could do. The least I could do was console them, right?” but his face was even darker then than it had been before. “My father was pissed the minute he found out, and he came at me with a knife then, saying I wasn’t his child, screaming I was the Devil’s, and it was Sungmin’s parents who saved me from him. They were on my side. They believed me, miraculously. I have no doubts my father would have killed me right then and there if they hadn’t gotten in his way.” Yesung didn’t have a response for that as he stared hard into his almost empty glass. Ryeowook’s tone was so flippant Yesung almost wished the other’s father were standing right in front of him so he could sock him in the face for what he’d done.
“Sungmin’s parents fought hard for me, even taking it as far as the legal system to get me away from my father. By that time, my mother had been long dead, and Sungmin’s parents took me in despite the fact that I could do nothing to aid in the injustice done against their son, could do nothing but fend off the bully who’s unreasonable hatred had transferred from Sungjin, to his brother, and I’ll always be grateful for that fact, always be indebted to them,” Ryeowook finished, staring sullenly into his glass again. Yesung cleared his throat.
“Why did you tell me this?”
“The police never believed us when we told them the basis for our claims. They never dug deeper to find out if Sungjin really had been bullied or not, and when Sungjin’s spirit finally left, I decided right then and there that I owed Sungmin’s family everything. I live in a run down apartment because every little bit of money that I make I send to them and Sungmin. They gave up trying to send it back year’s ago, and Sungmin switched to taking me out for lunch every chance he get’s when he realized I wouldn’t take it back,” Ryeowook admitted softly, drowning the light brown liquid of his drink in one go again. Yesung turned to the bartender then, and with a perfectly straight face, ordered the strongest thing they had.
In response to Ryeowook’s cocked eyebrow, Yesung only grinned, and when a bottle of whiskey was set in front of him along with two shot glasses, he poured them both a shot. Raising his cup in mock toast, he said “Let’s get smashed.”
--
Thinking back on it, Yesung wondered if getting drunk like they had, had been the best idea he’d had that night as he stumbled up the stairs to his flat with Ryeowook flush against him, lips against his as they devoured each other’s mouths.
His fingers fumbled with his keys as he tried to shove them into the keyhole, and Ryeowook’s mouth on his neck and his legs around his waist weren’t doing him any good, especially not when he rolled his hips against his erection like he did.
He barely remembered to slam the door shut, and it was habit that had his fingers turning the lock on the doorknob, and then he was stumbling into his bedroom with Ryeowook wrapped around him like a vine. He threw the younger man onto the bed beneath him, and Ryeowook’s limbs were attached to his again immediately when he climbed on top, hungrily lapping at the hollow in Yesung’s throat until Yesung was moaning against him, tugging at the hem of his shirt.
He wasn’t sure how he managed to get it off, wasn’t even sure if Ryeowook’s lips actually left his skin when he did, but he hardly cared with Ryeowook’s beautiful but thin torso bared beneath him.
The hard erection pressing against the fly of his pants prevented him from doing what he wanted - which was to lick a hot path down the younger man’s torso - and he moved his hands instead to Ryeowook’s pants, pulling down the zipper and undoing the button as fast as he could, discarding both them and his boxers in one go.
Ryeowook’s throaty moan at the feel of cold air against his heated erection only made Yesung ache more with need, but he found himself sidetracked by the silky feel of skin beneath his fingers when he drew them down Ryeowook’s erect member.
“Jongwoon, Jongwoon,” Ryeowook cried, sitting up to drag his mouth back to his, pushing Yesung’s hand away in the process, locking them in a fierce kiss. “Inside me, now,” he managed to growl, panting, and Yesung couldn’t refuse.
They both fumbled with Yesung’s shirt as they tried to pull it off of him, giggling when it got caught around Yesung’s neck, but they weren’t giggling when Ryeowook reached down to unzip Yesung’s pants and Yesung let out a throaty moan at the drunken touch.
Ryeowook had Yesung unclothed faster than Yesung had managed the others clothing, and he pushed Yesung down into a sitting position as he climbed on top of him, into his lap, and wrapped his legs around his waist.
Lips next to his ear, hot breathe puffing against the shell, he whispered “Fuck me,” the words almost sounding sober except for the slight tremble in his voice, and Yesung didn’t wait for another plead, only plunged in without even the barest hint of preparation. Ryeowook took it well with a loud cry, throwing his head back in pain and ecstasy, eyes clenched shut, throat bared.
Yesung found his lips attached to the exposed column of his throat, and when he thrust in, he sucked, biting into the soft skin and laving at the hurt, nearly bending Ryeowook over backwards with the angle of his thrusts.
As both their orgasms loomed, Ryeowook found that he couldn’t complain.
--
Masterlist/Character Information