[FIC] Pandora's Box .49.
Title: Pandora's Box
Pairing: YunJae and more
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst. Drama. Romance.
Summary: There are many different forms of love. And this you are reading now, speaks a love of destruction.
A/n: OMG. The next chapter will be 50. Oh gods. But we are reaching the end soon! Sorry for the lateness...in order to make up for that, a longer chapter than usual =)
Warning: Hold on tight. To your seat. It's starting!
P.S: Please bear with the longwindedness of this chapter. I'm trying to move around till I get what i what =x Thank you ♥
Edit: Just in case some of you are confused..we are still in the PAST. =)
.49.
Junsu woke up in an empty apartment. No . . . there was still Changmin, but it was simply a lifeless space to breathe in. He had never thought of unmoving things dead - like doors and tables and sofas and mat and water tap. Those were dead things, no longer living, or never once alive, but Junsu had never imagined that he would actually, and could actually, hear them not breathing at all. It was a weird thing to think of when one first woke up, but Junsu couldn’t help but felt so. His first instinct when he stepped out from the room was to steal a careful glance towards the elder’s bedroom . . . which contained Yunho and not Jaejoong, but Yoochun in it the previous night. The thought of Yoochun together with Yunho pierced something carefully and slowly into the beating flesh. Junsu inhaled deep and long, shook his head and tried to bury the feeling deep somewhere, where his mind’s eye couldn’t see.
“Gone.” The unusually husky and too low a voice caused Junsu to flinch with an uncontrollable small gasp. “Yoochun hyung left a note . . . they have gone to the Lotte World.”
Lotte World.
Junsu was staring hard at Changmin’s skull subconsciously, his mind bursting with wild emotions. Yunho hyung and Yoochun hyung . . . together. Together. Together. His beloved Yoochun hyung with his godly hyung. Together. In Lotte World. And on the previous night . . . those three nights before . . . He did not know what he was tasting. The sour taste blended with something bitter crippling his tongue at the idea of Yoochun able to stay by his godly hyung, and even able to comfort him in . . . in that manner, or the spicy ache of Yoochun sharing one of Junsu’s fondest memories with Yunho, in the Lotte World. He was somehow already seated beside the youngest, a seat away from the silent dongsaeng, when Changmin broke the heavy silence like a glass shattered in vacuum.
“It is real, hyung.” The younger man sounded as calm as a lake. Too tranquil, everything felt almost surreal. And this was when Junsu realized, the apartment was dark despite the early hours. It took a couple more seconds for the fact to sink in fully, that it was pouring. The sky was pouring. He thought it was weeping on his behalf.
Suddenly, on the very next second, the rain was deafening, as if someone had released the button of the mute mode of the rain. Why hadn’t he heard the rain the moment he had awakened? What would Yunho and Yoochun be doing in such a heavy rain? Where . . . where was Jaejoong when he left the apartment last night, with eyes so hollow that Junsu feared to glance even in his general direction . . .?
“The fight is real . . . everything is real. And that . . . what happened between Yoochun hyung and Yunho hyung . . . They are all real, hyung.”
Junsu kept his silence; because that was the one and only thing he could do now, to keep himself together and unbroken. He wondered how could Changmin’s words sounded so crystal, as if time had stopped where words pierced, through the pouring rain at the other side of the misty glass panels, through his wounded and weak barrier he tried so hard to sustain around him so that his wounds would stay out of any eye. He tried to open his weak palms before his eyes, head down, and he thought he saw his very palms stained with blood.
He had sinned, murdering the life out of Jaejoong, murdering the life out of Yunho, murdering the life out of Kim Junsu. He had crushed his very world with his very fucking hands, a hideous evidence of he succumbing to the wickedness nested deep within him.
Gone was his godly hyung forever, from his life. And Park Yoochun . . . his beloved hyung . . . was connected to his god in a way he could never, ever, be.
* * *
“. . . The . . . weather forecast did not mention this obvious rain.”
They were taking shelter near Lotte World. Yoochun looked at his friend beside, and his attempted smile cracked. “. . . Okay, maybe because we did not check.”
And then silence prevailed, although the rain was splattering on the roof of the very bus stop they were under, although there were a couple of youngsters perhaps Changmin’s age who were acting like Junsu at the other end of the ten metres wide shelter. Yoochun wished he could borrow some of their loudness and joyfulness over to their side. The rainy day felt cold, but a mute Yunho beside him chilled him to the bones.
The handsome young man sighed. He thought he could cheer Yunho up even if it was just a little by pushing him out of that gloomy apartment. Yoochun had enjoyed himself so much with Junsu, in the Lotte World. And he thought it would bring perhaps half a smile to Yunho’s hard set lines. The lifeless man beside him. But was this fate? It just had to rain, and gods know it made everything a hundred thousand times worse being stuck in a bus shelter with a handful of idiots within their hearing range.
Junsu . . . Yoochun thought he could hear the awful sound of his heart being punched out of air. Junsu would be feeling so pissed and betrayed and hurt and . . . everything that he had . . . shared with Yunho. Yoochun tried his hardest not to picture the chubby face that shone his world. But why hadn’t the thought of Junsu crossed his pig-brain when they were in the motel? Although it surprised him, the devastating sight of Yunho and the urge to make Yunho felt even an ounce better with his everything then were more heartbreaking and important than anything else. Than anyone else. Than . . . Junsu?
Perhaps it would be a better idea if he had pulled Changmin and Junsu along today. But . . . no, he just couldn’t face Junsu now. He didn’t think he was prepared for any darts of hatred from Junsu.
“Can you fucking shut the hell up?”
A sudden outburst beside caused Yoochun to jump. Yunho had sprung onto his feet, and his eyes were so beyond menacing that the handful of idiots at the same shelter were rooted stupidly to the ground. What, are they really idiots? Run!
“All you do is to yak and yak and yak! Can’t you fuckers just bloody shut the fuck up and get the fuck out of my sight?”
When the youngsters were still traumatized and stayed rooted, Yunho became . . . more than simple annoyed. He would have pounced on them if Yoochun wasn’t fast enough to push him back on the chest. Those poor strangers, they snapped out of their trances, and despite the still going strong rain, they dashed out into the misty rain, as far away from the shelter as possible, until they were out of sight.
Almost instantly, seemingly lost his purpose, Yunho’s strength slipped, and he allowed Yoochun to push him back onto the waiting bench. The younger man dropped his tired self on the bench next to him. His head tilted all the way back and signed in defeat against the deafening rain.
“Do you have to do this to yourself?” Yoochun’s saddening eyes glued to the underside of the roof, his vision blurred from the countless diagonal strips protruding, or his vision was blurred from . . . something else.
“What will you stand to gain? A broken heart. Your broken heart. And broken hearts.” He stole an eye to the silent figure beside, and was not surprised to see the man lifeless in his vacant world, remained in oblivion to everything around him; to his words. But still, Yoochun had to rant, or his heated chest would explode.
“I just don’t get it. Just what the hell is wrong with you and . . . him? Just what the hell is wrong with your world? Can’t you live like some normal man? Like all those ordinary humans walking on the streets? Find some ordinary girl and trust your heart to her, then as time passed, pledge your love into marriage, and bring two new and healthy lives into this polluted world . . . just what the fuck is tough with all these?”
He sighed once again, the Nth time in just three days, and crawled onto his feet when he realized the rain had dimmed, abruptly, to drizzles.
“Ah . . . unpredictable weather, just like life itself. Fucking life itself.” He tugged one of Yunho’s lifeless arms. “Come on, we’re going to try distracting ourselves by submerging in a place full of childish people screaming all around. The other time I was here with Junsu . . . you should really see him man. He was screaming like an ass up on the roller coaster ride, clinging so tightly onto me. It was so embarrassing I tell you. You know just how he would scream ---”
“Yoochun.” The soft call brought an abrupt stop to the endless self rambling. “Junsu had told me it was you who nearly died on the ride.”
This statement came completely as a surprise, but not without effort. It took Yoochun half a minute to work his hanging jaw. “That . . . jerk. He told you? He was not supposed to tell anyone!”
And then, another surprise of the day, of the month . . . no, of the year. Yunho laughed. Though soft and weak, he laughed. Oh gods, Yoochun had the strongest urge to cry. Secretly, he heaved a sigh of relief.
“Now you know my hideous secret. I’m not going anywhere near that monstrous ride. You can’t make me, get that? I will overturn the table on you if you forced me up.”
“. . . Did I . . . force you?” The older man switched back to the quiet and gloomy self, and Yoochun nearly cursed out loud. Yunho’s darkened eyes were a bottomless hollow. “You . . . love Junsu, and yet I force you into this . . . I ---”
“Stop.” Yoochun slapped both cold palms at Yunho’s equally cold and started cheeks, pressed his cold palms together so hard that Yunho’s full lips became distortedly puckering mouth of a fish. Yoochun laughed his husky chuckles at the sight.
“Hyung. You did what you have to do . . . what we have to do. I . . . was the one forcing myself on you . . . remember?” And then something darkened and dissolved in his eyes. “I . . . love Junsu. As a brother, as a friend, and maybe . . . something more. But I never regretted it with you. Never.” He released his palms on Yunho slowly, leveling their gazes, determined to make his point crystal.
“But how would Junsu ---” Yunho caught one of Yoochun’s retreating hand and searched into the unreadable orbs. “He . . .”
“He will understand.” He has to. Yoochun felt the first pang for Junsu in days. “He will.”
Yunho tightened his brows together. He was not as sure as Yoochun.
“Enough of me.” Yoochun tried a smile and changed the topic. “What are you planning to do now? Can you bear to live in the same breathing space as he is?”
“I . . . don’t know.” Yunho’s shoulders dropped instantly, the face of the key to his heart resurfaced in his clouded mind once again.
“Huh?” Yoochun’s face spelled what-the-fuck. “After last night . . . you haven’t make up your mind!?”
Yunho looked down, his fists clenched, jaw locked.
“Hyung.” Yoochun clamped a tight grip on his weak shoulder. He felt like some nasty villain in some ass-lame movie. “Please. Don’t let all your efforts go down the drain. This is the time to let go . . . Judging by last night, do you think you can take another round of that? Cut everything clean, hyung, and perhaps there might be a chance of a new sprout emerging.”
“Maybe the roots were already dead.” Yunho cracked a bitter smile and felt his nose soured like a weakling.
“Hyung!” Suddenly, Yoochun became enraged, and Yunho was taken aback. “Are you planning to live in wallow for the rest of your life, dragging Jaejoong hyung down with you? Dragging everyone down with you?! Can you please, fucking, bloodily wake up!? Isn’t that three days enough?!”
Those three days spent in the motel . . . dealing with a lifeless Yunho . . . killed Yoochun over and over again.
“Yoo --- sorry Yoochun ah, I’m just ---”
“I’m sick of all these, alright? I’m fucking sick of everything!” Yoochun knew he shouldn’t flare up senselessly like this, and he didn’t understand why he did too, but he just couldn’t soothe the pain of watching Yunho like this. Somehow, it killed him more than the knowledge of betraying Junsu’s trust on him to see Yunho allowing the vicious thorns to pierce deeper into his flesh.
“Yoochun . . . Yoochun ah, I’m sorry, hyung is sorry.” Yunho caught the upset man within his arms, his heart tugged. He knew Yoochun was the next greatest victim of his stupidity. His stupidity to still wanting to cling onto Jaejoong for even a second longer. “I . . . will be strong and not let you down. I’m sorry Yoochun ah . . . I’m . . .” His voice strangled, and Yunho tried so hard, but the sob still escaped.
However, when Yoochun broke down into a louder sob than his, Yunho panicked more. He forgot momentarily about his agony, and concentrated just on pacifying his dongsaeng who did so much for him. So much more than he could ever repay him.
Yoochun closed his eyes, feeling the sly tears streaming down his cheeks, hearing Yunho’s constant cooing and promises at his ear, and he hated himself the more. He condemned himself for the selfishness.
* * *
The man with the complexion so pale that he seemed almost inhuman zipped up his jean and unlocked the cubicle door. He washed his hands under the running water with soap thoroughly, over and over again, almost compulsive. The other man he had spent the last filthy fifteen minutes with in the same stall staggered out, his eyes still greedy on the pale yet beautifully handsome man.
“Hey babe . . . want another go?” His breath leaked of cheap liquor against the nape of Jaejoong’s neck and it made the fair male wanted to vomit his stomach out. A sneaky hand on his groin next was it. Jaejoong twisted the stinky arm around over his head and threw him over his shoulder like a black belt he might be. The man sprawled face down on the wet and dirty cement, and Jaejoong gave him one more kick at the side, watching with a satisfied gleam as the pathetic man yelped and turned over. The man coughed blood, but still, the white teeth glistened against the red.
Jaejoong pulled his dazed gaze from the teeth before washing his hands at the sink once again, and left without bestowing a second glance.
When he was out in the club once again, he swam through the crowd, seemingly oblivious to the heated eyes of desire all around him. Suddenly, really randomly, he wanted to taste a plate of spaghetti. But to Jaejoong, spaghetti, one full plate of it, always made him sick. Just like now. Jaejoong chuckled to himself, a hand curled over his curved mouth, his eyes as still as a black lake. Spaghetti. Was he too hungry, to think of food at this moment?
Hungry? One of his palms slid over to his flat stomach when he stopped absently before a table. He chuckled again. Still feeling hungry after being fucked by four men?
He felt a tingling caress down his back, a sensation all too familiar, cupping his backside deliciously. He wore a smile when he turned his head back and caught a wink. He was tall even when seated on the high stool . . . and long fingers supporting against his temple easily looked just like . . . him.
Jaejoong deepened his smile before the sacred name could resurface once again, and then he purred his reply to the unspoken invitation.
* * *
“Ung . . . harder . . . there . . .”
A few quick bites at the dark alley were always thrilling. Jaejoong dung his short nails into the man’s back, his shirt a rippled mess. He licked his lower lip, eyes lidded, and he dug his heels into the man’s naked cheeks, urging him to explore deeper.
“Baby . . . so slick . . . so . . . oh fuck . . . this is so hot . . .” The man sounded breathy and incoherent, indulging himself in the exhilarating pleasure of the delicacy around him.
Of course. Jaejoong did not clean up properly . . . he got lazy cleaning up tonight after the second man. “You’re big . . . uh . . . pierce me more . . .” Jaejoong knew just how dirty talks would heightened the pleasure. And he needed that, in order to be able to . . . feel.
After a couple more thrusts, Jaejoong could not pretend any longer. This was already the fifth man . . . but why was he still feeling nothing? Just when he was chewing on his train of thoughts, the man stopped abruptly in him. Still pressing Jaejoong up against the bricked wall, the man lifted his face from his neck, and Jaejoong saw something . . . something else besides raw desire in the man’s twinkling eyes.
Immediately, Jaejoong knew, this man was different from the previous four.
“This is not enough for you.” The man moved his hips teasingly in circles, and his eyes flashed dangerously when there was no desired response from the pale handsome man. Slipping out of Jaejoong, the stranger reached for his loosened jean around his thighs and dug into one of his back pockets.
A small plastic packet of bright red pills dangled before Jaejoong’s indifferent orbs.
“Here.” He unzipped the packet and handed Jaejoong one. “Freshly made.” And then he laughed at his own lame and meaninglessly joke. “Not even out in the market yet but this . . . is lethal.” He grinned when Jaejoong started to show a spark of interest by holding the small pill between his thumb and forefinger, examining it at eye level. “Just one small pill . . .”
“Lethal?” Jaejoong’s honeyed voice purred, and he squinted when he saw that the man was itching to get back into him again. “How?”
“Swallow it.” The man was getting restless waist down and he urged the stunning male before him with shortened breaths. “You will feel nothing but your urge. Even one small finger on your arm . . . would be enough to make you go crazy. You wouldn’t even notice that I’m here, but just my big and hard cock fucking you over and over again.”
“Wouldn’t even notice you’re here . . .?” The beautiful male echoed softly, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
The man swallowed under the pair of soulful eyes and nodded eagerly. “Your mind would be so clogged up with your desire to fuck that your eyes would not see. Your desire would be the only sensation alive.” He laughed and winked.
And then, fascinatingly, Jaejoong chuckled. The man grinned wider; thinking the next hour would be pure bliss. But before he could open his mouth to urge Jaejoong further to swallow ---
He was face down on dirt the next second, body twitching from the brutal kick right into his erected manhood.
Jaejoong bent to pick the little plastic packet from the ground just beside the opened palm, and left the alley with a foot stomped down hard on the bare buttock cheeks. The big and hard manhood could break, for all he cared. He got what he wanted, and that was what he cared.
_____________________________________________________________________
a/n II: ...Going to study for my next paper on Tuesday now =x
Pairing: YunJae and more
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst. Drama. Romance.
Summary: There are many different forms of love. And this you are reading now, speaks a love of destruction.
A/n: OMG. The next chapter will be 50. Oh gods. But we are reaching the end soon! Sorry for the lateness...in order to make up for that, a longer chapter than usual =)
Warning: Hold on tight. To your seat. It's starting!
P.S: Please bear with the longwindedness of this chapter. I'm trying to move around till I get what i what =x Thank you ♥
Edit: Just in case some of you are confused..we are still in the PAST. =)
.49.
Junsu woke up in an empty apartment. No . . . there was still Changmin, but it was simply a lifeless space to breathe in. He had never thought of unmoving things dead - like doors and tables and sofas and mat and water tap. Those were dead things, no longer living, or never once alive, but Junsu had never imagined that he would actually, and could actually, hear them not breathing at all. It was a weird thing to think of when one first woke up, but Junsu couldn’t help but felt so. His first instinct when he stepped out from the room was to steal a careful glance towards the elder’s bedroom . . . which contained Yunho and not Jaejoong, but Yoochun in it the previous night. The thought of Yoochun together with Yunho pierced something carefully and slowly into the beating flesh. Junsu inhaled deep and long, shook his head and tried to bury the feeling deep somewhere, where his mind’s eye couldn’t see.
“Gone.” The unusually husky and too low a voice caused Junsu to flinch with an uncontrollable small gasp. “Yoochun hyung left a note . . . they have gone to the Lotte World.”
Lotte World.
Junsu was staring hard at Changmin’s skull subconsciously, his mind bursting with wild emotions. Yunho hyung and Yoochun hyung . . . together. Together. Together. His beloved Yoochun hyung with his godly hyung. Together. In Lotte World. And on the previous night . . . those three nights before . . . He did not know what he was tasting. The sour taste blended with something bitter crippling his tongue at the idea of Yoochun able to stay by his godly hyung, and even able to comfort him in . . . in that manner, or the spicy ache of Yoochun sharing one of Junsu’s fondest memories with Yunho, in the Lotte World. He was somehow already seated beside the youngest, a seat away from the silent dongsaeng, when Changmin broke the heavy silence like a glass shattered in vacuum.
“It is real, hyung.” The younger man sounded as calm as a lake. Too tranquil, everything felt almost surreal. And this was when Junsu realized, the apartment was dark despite the early hours. It took a couple more seconds for the fact to sink in fully, that it was pouring. The sky was pouring. He thought it was weeping on his behalf.
Suddenly, on the very next second, the rain was deafening, as if someone had released the button of the mute mode of the rain. Why hadn’t he heard the rain the moment he had awakened? What would Yunho and Yoochun be doing in such a heavy rain? Where . . . where was Jaejoong when he left the apartment last night, with eyes so hollow that Junsu feared to glance even in his general direction . . .?
“The fight is real . . . everything is real. And that . . . what happened between Yoochun hyung and Yunho hyung . . . They are all real, hyung.”
Junsu kept his silence; because that was the one and only thing he could do now, to keep himself together and unbroken. He wondered how could Changmin’s words sounded so crystal, as if time had stopped where words pierced, through the pouring rain at the other side of the misty glass panels, through his wounded and weak barrier he tried so hard to sustain around him so that his wounds would stay out of any eye. He tried to open his weak palms before his eyes, head down, and he thought he saw his very palms stained with blood.
He had sinned, murdering the life out of Jaejoong, murdering the life out of Yunho, murdering the life out of Kim Junsu. He had crushed his very world with his very fucking hands, a hideous evidence of he succumbing to the wickedness nested deep within him.
Gone was his godly hyung forever, from his life. And Park Yoochun . . . his beloved hyung . . . was connected to his god in a way he could never, ever, be.
* * *
“. . . The . . . weather forecast did not mention this obvious rain.”
They were taking shelter near Lotte World. Yoochun looked at his friend beside, and his attempted smile cracked. “. . . Okay, maybe because we did not check.”
And then silence prevailed, although the rain was splattering on the roof of the very bus stop they were under, although there were a couple of youngsters perhaps Changmin’s age who were acting like Junsu at the other end of the ten metres wide shelter. Yoochun wished he could borrow some of their loudness and joyfulness over to their side. The rainy day felt cold, but a mute Yunho beside him chilled him to the bones.
The handsome young man sighed. He thought he could cheer Yunho up even if it was just a little by pushing him out of that gloomy apartment. Yoochun had enjoyed himself so much with Junsu, in the Lotte World. And he thought it would bring perhaps half a smile to Yunho’s hard set lines. The lifeless man beside him. But was this fate? It just had to rain, and gods know it made everything a hundred thousand times worse being stuck in a bus shelter with a handful of idiots within their hearing range.
Junsu . . . Yoochun thought he could hear the awful sound of his heart being punched out of air. Junsu would be feeling so pissed and betrayed and hurt and . . . everything that he had . . . shared with Yunho. Yoochun tried his hardest not to picture the chubby face that shone his world. But why hadn’t the thought of Junsu crossed his pig-brain when they were in the motel? Although it surprised him, the devastating sight of Yunho and the urge to make Yunho felt even an ounce better with his everything then were more heartbreaking and important than anything else. Than anyone else. Than . . . Junsu?
Perhaps it would be a better idea if he had pulled Changmin and Junsu along today. But . . . no, he just couldn’t face Junsu now. He didn’t think he was prepared for any darts of hatred from Junsu.
“Can you fucking shut the hell up?”
A sudden outburst beside caused Yoochun to jump. Yunho had sprung onto his feet, and his eyes were so beyond menacing that the handful of idiots at the same shelter were rooted stupidly to the ground. What, are they really idiots? Run!
“All you do is to yak and yak and yak! Can’t you fuckers just bloody shut the fuck up and get the fuck out of my sight?”
When the youngsters were still traumatized and stayed rooted, Yunho became . . . more than simple annoyed. He would have pounced on them if Yoochun wasn’t fast enough to push him back on the chest. Those poor strangers, they snapped out of their trances, and despite the still going strong rain, they dashed out into the misty rain, as far away from the shelter as possible, until they were out of sight.
Almost instantly, seemingly lost his purpose, Yunho’s strength slipped, and he allowed Yoochun to push him back onto the waiting bench. The younger man dropped his tired self on the bench next to him. His head tilted all the way back and signed in defeat against the deafening rain.
“Do you have to do this to yourself?” Yoochun’s saddening eyes glued to the underside of the roof, his vision blurred from the countless diagonal strips protruding, or his vision was blurred from . . . something else.
“What will you stand to gain? A broken heart. Your broken heart. And broken hearts.” He stole an eye to the silent figure beside, and was not surprised to see the man lifeless in his vacant world, remained in oblivion to everything around him; to his words. But still, Yoochun had to rant, or his heated chest would explode.
“I just don’t get it. Just what the hell is wrong with you and . . . him? Just what the hell is wrong with your world? Can’t you live like some normal man? Like all those ordinary humans walking on the streets? Find some ordinary girl and trust your heart to her, then as time passed, pledge your love into marriage, and bring two new and healthy lives into this polluted world . . . just what the fuck is tough with all these?”
He sighed once again, the Nth time in just three days, and crawled onto his feet when he realized the rain had dimmed, abruptly, to drizzles.
“Ah . . . unpredictable weather, just like life itself. Fucking life itself.” He tugged one of Yunho’s lifeless arms. “Come on, we’re going to try distracting ourselves by submerging in a place full of childish people screaming all around. The other time I was here with Junsu . . . you should really see him man. He was screaming like an ass up on the roller coaster ride, clinging so tightly onto me. It was so embarrassing I tell you. You know just how he would scream ---”
“Yoochun.” The soft call brought an abrupt stop to the endless self rambling. “Junsu had told me it was you who nearly died on the ride.”
This statement came completely as a surprise, but not without effort. It took Yoochun half a minute to work his hanging jaw. “That . . . jerk. He told you? He was not supposed to tell anyone!”
And then, another surprise of the day, of the month . . . no, of the year. Yunho laughed. Though soft and weak, he laughed. Oh gods, Yoochun had the strongest urge to cry. Secretly, he heaved a sigh of relief.
“Now you know my hideous secret. I’m not going anywhere near that monstrous ride. You can’t make me, get that? I will overturn the table on you if you forced me up.”
“. . . Did I . . . force you?” The older man switched back to the quiet and gloomy self, and Yoochun nearly cursed out loud. Yunho’s darkened eyes were a bottomless hollow. “You . . . love Junsu, and yet I force you into this . . . I ---”
“Stop.” Yoochun slapped both cold palms at Yunho’s equally cold and started cheeks, pressed his cold palms together so hard that Yunho’s full lips became distortedly puckering mouth of a fish. Yoochun laughed his husky chuckles at the sight.
“Hyung. You did what you have to do . . . what we have to do. I . . . was the one forcing myself on you . . . remember?” And then something darkened and dissolved in his eyes. “I . . . love Junsu. As a brother, as a friend, and maybe . . . something more. But I never regretted it with you. Never.” He released his palms on Yunho slowly, leveling their gazes, determined to make his point crystal.
“But how would Junsu ---” Yunho caught one of Yoochun’s retreating hand and searched into the unreadable orbs. “He . . .”
“He will understand.” He has to. Yoochun felt the first pang for Junsu in days. “He will.”
Yunho tightened his brows together. He was not as sure as Yoochun.
“Enough of me.” Yoochun tried a smile and changed the topic. “What are you planning to do now? Can you bear to live in the same breathing space as he is?”
“I . . . don’t know.” Yunho’s shoulders dropped instantly, the face of the key to his heart resurfaced in his clouded mind once again.
“Huh?” Yoochun’s face spelled what-the-fuck. “After last night . . . you haven’t make up your mind!?”
Yunho looked down, his fists clenched, jaw locked.
“Hyung.” Yoochun clamped a tight grip on his weak shoulder. He felt like some nasty villain in some ass-lame movie. “Please. Don’t let all your efforts go down the drain. This is the time to let go . . . Judging by last night, do you think you can take another round of that? Cut everything clean, hyung, and perhaps there might be a chance of a new sprout emerging.”
“Maybe the roots were already dead.” Yunho cracked a bitter smile and felt his nose soured like a weakling.
“Hyung!” Suddenly, Yoochun became enraged, and Yunho was taken aback. “Are you planning to live in wallow for the rest of your life, dragging Jaejoong hyung down with you? Dragging everyone down with you?! Can you please, fucking, bloodily wake up!? Isn’t that three days enough?!”
Those three days spent in the motel . . . dealing with a lifeless Yunho . . . killed Yoochun over and over again.
“Yoo --- sorry Yoochun ah, I’m just ---”
“I’m sick of all these, alright? I’m fucking sick of everything!” Yoochun knew he shouldn’t flare up senselessly like this, and he didn’t understand why he did too, but he just couldn’t soothe the pain of watching Yunho like this. Somehow, it killed him more than the knowledge of betraying Junsu’s trust on him to see Yunho allowing the vicious thorns to pierce deeper into his flesh.
“Yoochun . . . Yoochun ah, I’m sorry, hyung is sorry.” Yunho caught the upset man within his arms, his heart tugged. He knew Yoochun was the next greatest victim of his stupidity. His stupidity to still wanting to cling onto Jaejoong for even a second longer. “I . . . will be strong and not let you down. I’m sorry Yoochun ah . . . I’m . . .” His voice strangled, and Yunho tried so hard, but the sob still escaped.
However, when Yoochun broke down into a louder sob than his, Yunho panicked more. He forgot momentarily about his agony, and concentrated just on pacifying his dongsaeng who did so much for him. So much more than he could ever repay him.
Yoochun closed his eyes, feeling the sly tears streaming down his cheeks, hearing Yunho’s constant cooing and promises at his ear, and he hated himself the more. He condemned himself for the selfishness.
* * *
The man with the complexion so pale that he seemed almost inhuman zipped up his jean and unlocked the cubicle door. He washed his hands under the running water with soap thoroughly, over and over again, almost compulsive. The other man he had spent the last filthy fifteen minutes with in the same stall staggered out, his eyes still greedy on the pale yet beautifully handsome man.
“Hey babe . . . want another go?” His breath leaked of cheap liquor against the nape of Jaejoong’s neck and it made the fair male wanted to vomit his stomach out. A sneaky hand on his groin next was it. Jaejoong twisted the stinky arm around over his head and threw him over his shoulder like a black belt he might be. The man sprawled face down on the wet and dirty cement, and Jaejoong gave him one more kick at the side, watching with a satisfied gleam as the pathetic man yelped and turned over. The man coughed blood, but still, the white teeth glistened against the red.
Jaejoong pulled his dazed gaze from the teeth before washing his hands at the sink once again, and left without bestowing a second glance.
When he was out in the club once again, he swam through the crowd, seemingly oblivious to the heated eyes of desire all around him. Suddenly, really randomly, he wanted to taste a plate of spaghetti. But to Jaejoong, spaghetti, one full plate of it, always made him sick. Just like now. Jaejoong chuckled to himself, a hand curled over his curved mouth, his eyes as still as a black lake. Spaghetti. Was he too hungry, to think of food at this moment?
Hungry? One of his palms slid over to his flat stomach when he stopped absently before a table. He chuckled again. Still feeling hungry after being fucked by four men?
He felt a tingling caress down his back, a sensation all too familiar, cupping his backside deliciously. He wore a smile when he turned his head back and caught a wink. He was tall even when seated on the high stool . . . and long fingers supporting against his temple easily looked just like . . . him.
Jaejoong deepened his smile before the sacred name could resurface once again, and then he purred his reply to the unspoken invitation.
* * *
“Ung . . . harder . . . there . . .”
A few quick bites at the dark alley were always thrilling. Jaejoong dung his short nails into the man’s back, his shirt a rippled mess. He licked his lower lip, eyes lidded, and he dug his heels into the man’s naked cheeks, urging him to explore deeper.
“Baby . . . so slick . . . so . . . oh fuck . . . this is so hot . . .” The man sounded breathy and incoherent, indulging himself in the exhilarating pleasure of the delicacy around him.
Of course. Jaejoong did not clean up properly . . . he got lazy cleaning up tonight after the second man. “You’re big . . . uh . . . pierce me more . . .” Jaejoong knew just how dirty talks would heightened the pleasure. And he needed that, in order to be able to . . . feel.
After a couple more thrusts, Jaejoong could not pretend any longer. This was already the fifth man . . . but why was he still feeling nothing? Just when he was chewing on his train of thoughts, the man stopped abruptly in him. Still pressing Jaejoong up against the bricked wall, the man lifted his face from his neck, and Jaejoong saw something . . . something else besides raw desire in the man’s twinkling eyes.
Immediately, Jaejoong knew, this man was different from the previous four.
“This is not enough for you.” The man moved his hips teasingly in circles, and his eyes flashed dangerously when there was no desired response from the pale handsome man. Slipping out of Jaejoong, the stranger reached for his loosened jean around his thighs and dug into one of his back pockets.
A small plastic packet of bright red pills dangled before Jaejoong’s indifferent orbs.
“Here.” He unzipped the packet and handed Jaejoong one. “Freshly made.” And then he laughed at his own lame and meaninglessly joke. “Not even out in the market yet but this . . . is lethal.” He grinned when Jaejoong started to show a spark of interest by holding the small pill between his thumb and forefinger, examining it at eye level. “Just one small pill . . .”
“Lethal?” Jaejoong’s honeyed voice purred, and he squinted when he saw that the man was itching to get back into him again. “How?”
“Swallow it.” The man was getting restless waist down and he urged the stunning male before him with shortened breaths. “You will feel nothing but your urge. Even one small finger on your arm . . . would be enough to make you go crazy. You wouldn’t even notice that I’m here, but just my big and hard cock fucking you over and over again.”
“Wouldn’t even notice you’re here . . .?” The beautiful male echoed softly, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
The man swallowed under the pair of soulful eyes and nodded eagerly. “Your mind would be so clogged up with your desire to fuck that your eyes would not see. Your desire would be the only sensation alive.” He laughed and winked.
And then, fascinatingly, Jaejoong chuckled. The man grinned wider; thinking the next hour would be pure bliss. But before he could open his mouth to urge Jaejoong further to swallow ---
He was face down on dirt the next second, body twitching from the brutal kick right into his erected manhood.
Jaejoong bent to pick the little plastic packet from the ground just beside the opened palm, and left the alley with a foot stomped down hard on the bare buttock cheeks. The big and hard manhood could break, for all he cared. He got what he wanted, and that was what he cared.
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a/n II: ...Going to study for my next paper on Tuesday now =x