[FIC] You Can't Choose What Stays and What Fades Away (8/?)
title: you can't choose what stays and what fades away (8/?)
pairing: kangin/eeteuk (side donghae/eunhyuk)
rating: R
warnings: dark themes
summary: how far would you go to find the truth?
notes: again, so sorry for the massive delay! leave some comments for love please! :) ♥
disclaimer: i do not own the members of super junior. if i did, none of them would join the army.
Seeing something paranormal, such as ghosts, can make a person many things. Mostly, one of two things. Seeing a ghost can make a person a believer.
It can also make a person paranoid.
Donghae had become the latter.
A week after seeing the girl, a week after Jungsu had met the man with thunder in his voice, Donghae is jittery. He jumps at loud noises (which his secretary learned after closing the door to his office a bit too quickly). He’s stiff when he walks down and past darkened hallways (which the janitor noticed on his afternoon rounds). He’s the first one out at seven o’clock, too scared to be in the shadows for too long.
He has also taken to sleeping with the light on.
Which annoys Hyukjae.
“Just turn it off,” he pleads as he plants kisses on Donghae’s bare shoulder. He’s trying to get his boyfriend to calm down with a little personal time, which ends with their clothes thrown around the room and their sheets smelling like sweat and satisfaction. But tonight, it’s not working.
Donghae shakes his head. “No. I can’t.”
“Haaaeeee,” Hyukjae drawls in his ear, and now his voice drops to a hush, “if you don’t turn the light out, our neighbors will see every little thing,” and he nips at Donghae’s ear now, “I’m going to do to you.”
Usually, this tactic works. Not tonight.
“Nobody looks in here,” Donghae counters. But he has to admit - having Hyukjae pressed against him just that way was starting to curl into his paranoia. But in the end… “No, Hyuk. I can’t.” And he gently pushed Hyukjae’s shoulders away.
Hyukjae groans and sits straight up, peering down at his boyfriend. He’s hard as heck, he’s hornier than he’s been in a while, but he’s determined to be understanding. “Why not, Hae?”
“It’s…” Donghae shifts under the sheets. “It’s embarrassing.”
Hyukjae’s irritation is gone, and his face relaxes. “Nothing you could say to me could be embarrassing.”
“You’ll laugh.” Donghae pouts.
Hyukjae takes Donghae’s hand. “Lee Donghae, I love you. And there’s nothing on this earth, here and now or up above, that can or ever will change that. Now please.” He brings up the hand, kisses the palm while looking at him. “Tell me why.”
Donghae takes a deep breath. While it is reassuring to know your boyfriend is open to your reasons, it’s still terrifying to reveal them. So he squeezes Hyukjae’s hand.
“I’m afraid…of the shadows.”
“The shadows,” Hyukjae repeats. “Why?” He looks behind them at the darkness cast by his body, the desk, the book piles littering the floor.
Donghae shudders. “You don’t feel it?”
“Feel what? They’re just shadows. Cast-offs of us.” He turns back to smile at Donghae, but no, Donghae is pale, very pale, eyes fallen back to peer into nothing.
Well, not really nothing. Because, while Hyukjae couldn’t see it, Donghae could.
And even over Hyukjae’s shoulder as he leaned in, he could see it.
The shadow moved.
***
While Donghae had grown more paranoid over the week, so had Youngwoon. But his paranoia didn’t lie with shadows and the impossible.
It lay in Jungsu.
He had kept such a close eye on Jungsu, watching him get ready for work every morning, eat his meals, during small lunch dates when they could get them, in bed - every waking moment.
But all for naught. Jungsu, even now, is the same as he’s been.
“Any more dreams?” Youngwoon asks from the bed. It’s evening, and he’s exhausted. His shadowing is interesting, yes, but even his mentor has noticed the way his mind sometimes wanders. No, he’s not entirely focused on his police work, and the extra paperwork they give him, which is supposed to keep him focused, isn’t working. But he can’t help it - not when it concerns his boyfriend.
“Mmm,” Jungsu thinks aloud as he pulls off his socks and tosses them into the hamper in the corner of the room. “No… No, not recently. Why?”
Youngwoon shrugs. “Just curious.” He pretends to be going over the latest form (something about a parking violation), but his gaze eventually wanders back to Jungsu. He’s facing away from the bed now, shrugging off his shirt. The pale skin gleams in the light, and he looks as if he’s been carved out of marble. Even the most golden strands of his hair have caught the light and play with it.
Youngwoon smiles. The scars from the past - those created by Siwon and Kibum - no longer exist, not on this new human body. The only physical memory of the past, how they had met, is tattooed on his back, the edges of the white wings silvery and…
Wait.
“Jungsu?”
“Hmm?” Jungsu pauses in unbuttoning his jeans, turns to face him. “What is it?”
“When you were…” He gestures to the ceiling. “Did you hear of angel wings fading?”
Jungsu bites his lips. But after a moment, he answers in shimmers, “No, not that I heard of. Why? Are…?” And he spins in circles, trying to get a glimpse of his wings on his back.
Youngwoon chuckles, and when he does his whole body shakes. “No, Teukie,” he admonishes gently, and he flaps his arms up and down, hoping his adorable boyfriend will get the hint.
He does. “Oh.” He blushes and smiles sheepishly. “Right.” Within moments, his wings have extended, curved at the ends to avoid hitting the walls. He looks first at his left wing, then his right. “I don’t see anything. Do you?” He turns his body now, showing Youngwoon as many angles as he can.
Youngwoon wants to make a lewd comment about the angles (he likes the small of Jungsu’s back in the light, how the jeans curve around his butt perfectly), but he doesn’t. He bites his tongue and observes the wings - after all, this could help him, too. “Come closer, I can’t see.”
Jungsu moves carefully, standing next to Youngwoon. Youngwoon takes the tip of a wing, runs his thumb over the white feathers. Yes, they’re still white; yes, there’s still a sheen to them that can only be described as heavenly. And they’re soft, soft like goose down. His fingers trail up, brush higher and higher on the wing, pads running over every feather.
Under his touch, he notices, Jungsu shivers, his breath catches just a bit, and his face (unless the light is playing tricks on him) is a little flushed.
“They really are soft,” Youngwoon finally says, voice heavy and weighted between them. “Your feathers.”
Jungsu can only nod. His voice is gone.
“How can I tell if they’re…fading?” he asks.
“Oh.” Jungsu’s voice is glass on tile, and he swallows, hoping to smooth it. “Uh, I’m not sure. Maybe the…the sheen?”
Youngwoon looks again. “No. They look fine. Like they were before.” He lets go of the white feathers. “Maybe I’m just being silly.”
“No, Kangin,” Jungsu assures him and retracts his wings. His hand comes up to cup the young man’s face. “Nothing you think of is silly.”
Youngwoon smiles warmly and turns to kiss the palm. “Come to bed.”
Jungsu smiles and nods in affirmation. And as he turns, Youngwoon can see the tattoo-wings.
The main body of the wings is white with that same sheen, but the edges are faded, ragged, as if they’ve been ripped at by the winds.
Youngwoon notes it, files it away in his mind for his notes.
Another reason to worry.
***
Kyuhyun sneaks past a teenage couple. The female is entwined around the male, their lips locked and their hands roaming. A vague memory of him and Sungmin flickers to mind, but it’s gone as quickly as it comes. Memories of the past can only hold on for so long.
Especially with his kind.
Kyuhyun has to make his way past three more couples (one of which included two girls) before he finds the darkest corner of the bar. He’s surprised he’s been led to a bar, but the trail is certain. And he’s always trusted the trails where trailing is concerned.
As expected, this corner of the bar is abandoned. Completely. No one will stand within three feet of it, let alone sit in it. (This explains why the bar appears so crowded. Yes, there’s room, but no one will come to this spot.) The bulb above the booth flickers on and off, and the offset picture frames make the shadows they cast long and jagged.
It also makes the girl look haggard and harsh.
But she’s not as she sits there, curled into a corner of the booth. Her legs are drawn up to her chest, arms curled around them. Her cheek is resting on her knees, so she is looking at the table in front of her.
Kyuhyun pauses. He can sense it - the shifting, the changing in the air around them.
She’s feeling.
“Hey,” he greets her softly, stepping close to stand next to the table. He doesn’t sit, just in case something goes wrong. “Here you are.”
The girl doesn’t anything. Just stares.
“Are you okay?”
Nothing.
Kyuhyun bites his lip, shoves his hands into his pockets. “Why here? Hmm?” He tilts his head, mouth curving up at the edges in a small smile. “Why’d you come here?”
Still nothing. Kyuhyun sighs, turns to looks around them. No, no one’s paying attention to them. Good.
“We used to come here.”
Kyuhyun turns back. “Who’s ‘we’?”
“Me and my brother.” She reaches out with a finger and traces figure-eights on the tabletop. “After school on Fridays.”
“You had a brother.”
She bites her lip. “I miss him.”
“I know.”
The girl’s eyes snap to him. And no, they’re not the eyes of a sad little girl - they’re hard like flint and just as sharp.
“No you don’t.” Her voice is sharp, too. Edgy. He has to be careful.
“Maybe not, but---”
“You don’t know what it’s like to wonder if you’ll see him again. You don’t know what it’s like to think about him every day. You don’t know what it’s like to wonder why he gave you up.”
Kyuhyun tenses. The air’s changing again. He really does need to be careful. “No, but,” and he held his finger up to indicate she wait for him to finish, “think. Just for a moment. Did he have a good reason?”
The girl’s eyes change from hard to uncertain, and now her lip quivers. “I… I don’t know…”
“You need to think. Remember.” It’s dangerous, he tells himself, pushing her to relive these memories. But, he believes, there’s a reason for everything. There’s a reason she slipped through the crack. And yes, there is a reason why she’s remembering, even if he doesn’t know it yet.
The girl pauses, eyes drifting away. “I…”
The bulb above them flickers quickly now.
Kyuhyun whispers her name, but it’s lost in the white noise that has filled her ears, the noise that is pressing against her as she recedes into herself.
“I…”
***
“I don’t want to go home yet! Can’t we go get ice cream at the corner?”
“No,” and he shakes his head, hand gently grasping hers, “we need to go home.”
“Why? Aunty Gina says I can stay overnight if I want.” She likes her friend’s mom - she stands up straight, carries herself like a lady from the past. She wishes their mom was like that.
“Because you need be home.”
She scowls and yanks her hand out of her brother’s grasp. “No!” She stamps her foot on the ground, crosses her arms over her chest. “I want ice cream!”
Her brother sighs. “No, you don’t. Come on.” And he reaches for her hand again, but she tugs it away. Her stomach is beginning to knot. She doesn’t want to go home.
“No,” she says again, and while it’s firm it’s no longer said angrily.
Her brother says her name, but while she hears it she doesn’t at the same time. Like it’s been removed and only her memory knows it’s there.
“Please,” she says, and her voice quivers.
Her brother sees this because his face changes from one of brotherly annoyance to one of brotherly concern. “It’s okay. I’ll be there. It’ll be okay.”
“Please,” she begs, but she doesn’t resist as he takes her hand, squeezes it comfortingly as they walk.
“Come on.”
“Please…”
***
“Please…” Jungsu begs as Youngwoon’s lips brush across a sensitive spot on his collarbone. He’s straddling his boyfriend now, the only light in the room for the lamp on their nightstand.
“Mmm,” Youngwoon affirms, lightly lapping at the bone before making his way down to an exposed nipple. The tip of his tongue grazes it, making it pucker and rise, making Jungsu whimper in a tinny bell.
“Kangin,” he pleads again, and this time his hips buck up, brushing against Youngwoon’s obvious desire. Now it’s Youngwoon’s turn to whimper, but this soon turns into a growl as his hands clutch at Jungsu’s hips and keep him pressed there so he can grind against the pressure.
“Don’t tease me,” he growls in pretend warning as he presses kisses all over Jungsu’s stomach.
“Then please,” and Jungsu’s arms wrap around his neck, and he leans down, cheek pressed into the black hair on his head, lips just above his ear. “Please…”
That’s all Youngwoon needs to growl again, pulling back enough to grasp Jungsu’s face and pull him in for a clashing kiss.
***
“Please,” she begs.
Jungsu doesn’t say anything, just holds her hand tighter as they round the corner, see home just ahead.
The pit in his stomach has grown. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten her. But no, his mother wanted them both home.
“Please…”
***
Kyuhyun says her name again and reaches a hand out to cover hers.
That touch makes the tension snap.
A cracking, and the bulb flickers out for good.
***
Youngwoon gasps. Jungsu’s lips have moved from his lips to his neck. And when he gasps, it’s not just out of pleasure.
It’s of surprise.
“Ow,” he chuckles. “You bit me, Teukie.” His hand runs over the blond and amber hair. “You’ve never done that before.”
But when Jungsu looks up, and it’s only to murmur a “Shhhh” in ashes, Youngwoon feels something curl heavy in his stomach. And then the pleasure he feels, the gentle touches on hypersensitive skin, overrides everything, except for the shadow of one thought:
Even in the light, Jungsu’s eyes have the curling blackness in them.
***
Jungsu bites his lip as they reach the steps. She’s squeezing his hand like a vise, and it hurts, but he doesn’t dare tell her so. He needs to be brave.
Even if he doesn’t feel it.
He doesn’t get a chance to open the door - it swings open for them. And there he is, a scowl on his face and in his eyes.
“You’re late,” the man states.
“Sorry, Appa,” he begins, “she went to the park.”
“The park?” His eyes flick to the girl, and she shrinks behind Jungsu. The tips of his fingers are tingling. “You were supposed to be at a friend’s.”
“And we went to the park.” She says this slowly, carefully.
He looks down at them, and something else is in his eyes, but Jungsu can’t place what it is. He’s terrible at reading his emotions.
“Take your sister inside now,” he orders, moving aside to let them through. “No more outings today.”
“Well,” and he’s nervous but he has to ask, “I was thinking we could go out for---”
“I said NO.” The voice is firm.
But no, he has to plead. For her. “She really wanted ice cream, Appa, and---”
The force on his cheek strikes a second before the pain does. He hears his sister cry out, but he keeps his eyes closed.
This way, he doesn’t see the other hand coming at him.
***
“OW!”
Jungsu gasps as he’s dragged back to reality. He blinks, sees the pillow, sees Youngwoon’s shoulder. It’s the same shoulder he’s had his lips pressed against.
Except there’s a small spot of blood on it.
He backs up quickly, hand still on Youngwoon’s shoulder. His eyes are locked on the blood, so he doesn’t see the small smile on his boyfriend’s face as he looks at the damage.
“Wow,” Youngwoon says in surprise, “you actually broke the skin.” His eyes now turn to Jungsu, and the surprise fades to worry. “Teukie? What’s wrong?” His hands take hold of Jungsu’s. “Are you okay?”
“Oh god…” Jungsu can still feel the memory, fresh and risen, in his mind. It’s fading back, yes, as the others have. But it’s still there, the feeling of need, protection…fear…
“I… I remember,” he finally manages to say in whispers of salt.
“What? What do you remember?”
Jungsu blinks, swallows down the fear to tell Youngwoon the truth because the truth is all Youngwoon has deserved:
“My family.”
tbc...
pairing: kangin/eeteuk (side donghae/eunhyuk)
rating: R
warnings: dark themes
summary: how far would you go to find the truth?
notes: again, so sorry for the massive delay! leave some comments for love please! :) ♥
disclaimer: i do not own the members of super junior. if i did, none of them would join the army.
Seeing something paranormal, such as ghosts, can make a person many things. Mostly, one of two things. Seeing a ghost can make a person a believer.
It can also make a person paranoid.
Donghae had become the latter.
A week after seeing the girl, a week after Jungsu had met the man with thunder in his voice, Donghae is jittery. He jumps at loud noises (which his secretary learned after closing the door to his office a bit too quickly). He’s stiff when he walks down and past darkened hallways (which the janitor noticed on his afternoon rounds). He’s the first one out at seven o’clock, too scared to be in the shadows for too long.
He has also taken to sleeping with the light on.
Which annoys Hyukjae.
“Just turn it off,” he pleads as he plants kisses on Donghae’s bare shoulder. He’s trying to get his boyfriend to calm down with a little personal time, which ends with their clothes thrown around the room and their sheets smelling like sweat and satisfaction. But tonight, it’s not working.
Donghae shakes his head. “No. I can’t.”
“Haaaeeee,” Hyukjae drawls in his ear, and now his voice drops to a hush, “if you don’t turn the light out, our neighbors will see every little thing,” and he nips at Donghae’s ear now, “I’m going to do to you.”
Usually, this tactic works. Not tonight.
“Nobody looks in here,” Donghae counters. But he has to admit - having Hyukjae pressed against him just that way was starting to curl into his paranoia. But in the end… “No, Hyuk. I can’t.” And he gently pushed Hyukjae’s shoulders away.
Hyukjae groans and sits straight up, peering down at his boyfriend. He’s hard as heck, he’s hornier than he’s been in a while, but he’s determined to be understanding. “Why not, Hae?”
“It’s…” Donghae shifts under the sheets. “It’s embarrassing.”
Hyukjae’s irritation is gone, and his face relaxes. “Nothing you could say to me could be embarrassing.”
“You’ll laugh.” Donghae pouts.
Hyukjae takes Donghae’s hand. “Lee Donghae, I love you. And there’s nothing on this earth, here and now or up above, that can or ever will change that. Now please.” He brings up the hand, kisses the palm while looking at him. “Tell me why.”
Donghae takes a deep breath. While it is reassuring to know your boyfriend is open to your reasons, it’s still terrifying to reveal them. So he squeezes Hyukjae’s hand.
“I’m afraid…of the shadows.”
“The shadows,” Hyukjae repeats. “Why?” He looks behind them at the darkness cast by his body, the desk, the book piles littering the floor.
Donghae shudders. “You don’t feel it?”
“Feel what? They’re just shadows. Cast-offs of us.” He turns back to smile at Donghae, but no, Donghae is pale, very pale, eyes fallen back to peer into nothing.
Well, not really nothing. Because, while Hyukjae couldn’t see it, Donghae could.
And even over Hyukjae’s shoulder as he leaned in, he could see it.
The shadow moved.
***
While Donghae had grown more paranoid over the week, so had Youngwoon. But his paranoia didn’t lie with shadows and the impossible.
It lay in Jungsu.
He had kept such a close eye on Jungsu, watching him get ready for work every morning, eat his meals, during small lunch dates when they could get them, in bed - every waking moment.
But all for naught. Jungsu, even now, is the same as he’s been.
“Any more dreams?” Youngwoon asks from the bed. It’s evening, and he’s exhausted. His shadowing is interesting, yes, but even his mentor has noticed the way his mind sometimes wanders. No, he’s not entirely focused on his police work, and the extra paperwork they give him, which is supposed to keep him focused, isn’t working. But he can’t help it - not when it concerns his boyfriend.
“Mmm,” Jungsu thinks aloud as he pulls off his socks and tosses them into the hamper in the corner of the room. “No… No, not recently. Why?”
Youngwoon shrugs. “Just curious.” He pretends to be going over the latest form (something about a parking violation), but his gaze eventually wanders back to Jungsu. He’s facing away from the bed now, shrugging off his shirt. The pale skin gleams in the light, and he looks as if he’s been carved out of marble. Even the most golden strands of his hair have caught the light and play with it.
Youngwoon smiles. The scars from the past - those created by Siwon and Kibum - no longer exist, not on this new human body. The only physical memory of the past, how they had met, is tattooed on his back, the edges of the white wings silvery and…
Wait.
“Jungsu?”
“Hmm?” Jungsu pauses in unbuttoning his jeans, turns to face him. “What is it?”
“When you were…” He gestures to the ceiling. “Did you hear of angel wings fading?”
Jungsu bites his lips. But after a moment, he answers in shimmers, “No, not that I heard of. Why? Are…?” And he spins in circles, trying to get a glimpse of his wings on his back.
Youngwoon chuckles, and when he does his whole body shakes. “No, Teukie,” he admonishes gently, and he flaps his arms up and down, hoping his adorable boyfriend will get the hint.
He does. “Oh.” He blushes and smiles sheepishly. “Right.” Within moments, his wings have extended, curved at the ends to avoid hitting the walls. He looks first at his left wing, then his right. “I don’t see anything. Do you?” He turns his body now, showing Youngwoon as many angles as he can.
Youngwoon wants to make a lewd comment about the angles (he likes the small of Jungsu’s back in the light, how the jeans curve around his butt perfectly), but he doesn’t. He bites his tongue and observes the wings - after all, this could help him, too. “Come closer, I can’t see.”
Jungsu moves carefully, standing next to Youngwoon. Youngwoon takes the tip of a wing, runs his thumb over the white feathers. Yes, they’re still white; yes, there’s still a sheen to them that can only be described as heavenly. And they’re soft, soft like goose down. His fingers trail up, brush higher and higher on the wing, pads running over every feather.
Under his touch, he notices, Jungsu shivers, his breath catches just a bit, and his face (unless the light is playing tricks on him) is a little flushed.
“They really are soft,” Youngwoon finally says, voice heavy and weighted between them. “Your feathers.”
Jungsu can only nod. His voice is gone.
“How can I tell if they’re…fading?” he asks.
“Oh.” Jungsu’s voice is glass on tile, and he swallows, hoping to smooth it. “Uh, I’m not sure. Maybe the…the sheen?”
Youngwoon looks again. “No. They look fine. Like they were before.” He lets go of the white feathers. “Maybe I’m just being silly.”
“No, Kangin,” Jungsu assures him and retracts his wings. His hand comes up to cup the young man’s face. “Nothing you think of is silly.”
Youngwoon smiles warmly and turns to kiss the palm. “Come to bed.”
Jungsu smiles and nods in affirmation. And as he turns, Youngwoon can see the tattoo-wings.
The main body of the wings is white with that same sheen, but the edges are faded, ragged, as if they’ve been ripped at by the winds.
Youngwoon notes it, files it away in his mind for his notes.
Another reason to worry.
***
Kyuhyun sneaks past a teenage couple. The female is entwined around the male, their lips locked and their hands roaming. A vague memory of him and Sungmin flickers to mind, but it’s gone as quickly as it comes. Memories of the past can only hold on for so long.
Especially with his kind.
Kyuhyun has to make his way past three more couples (one of which included two girls) before he finds the darkest corner of the bar. He’s surprised he’s been led to a bar, but the trail is certain. And he’s always trusted the trails where trailing is concerned.
As expected, this corner of the bar is abandoned. Completely. No one will stand within three feet of it, let alone sit in it. (This explains why the bar appears so crowded. Yes, there’s room, but no one will come to this spot.) The bulb above the booth flickers on and off, and the offset picture frames make the shadows they cast long and jagged.
It also makes the girl look haggard and harsh.
But she’s not as she sits there, curled into a corner of the booth. Her legs are drawn up to her chest, arms curled around them. Her cheek is resting on her knees, so she is looking at the table in front of her.
Kyuhyun pauses. He can sense it - the shifting, the changing in the air around them.
She’s feeling.
“Hey,” he greets her softly, stepping close to stand next to the table. He doesn’t sit, just in case something goes wrong. “Here you are.”
The girl doesn’t anything. Just stares.
“Are you okay?”
Nothing.
Kyuhyun bites his lip, shoves his hands into his pockets. “Why here? Hmm?” He tilts his head, mouth curving up at the edges in a small smile. “Why’d you come here?”
Still nothing. Kyuhyun sighs, turns to looks around them. No, no one’s paying attention to them. Good.
“We used to come here.”
Kyuhyun turns back. “Who’s ‘we’?”
“Me and my brother.” She reaches out with a finger and traces figure-eights on the tabletop. “After school on Fridays.”
“You had a brother.”
She bites her lip. “I miss him.”
“I know.”
The girl’s eyes snap to him. And no, they’re not the eyes of a sad little girl - they’re hard like flint and just as sharp.
“No you don’t.” Her voice is sharp, too. Edgy. He has to be careful.
“Maybe not, but---”
“You don’t know what it’s like to wonder if you’ll see him again. You don’t know what it’s like to think about him every day. You don’t know what it’s like to wonder why he gave you up.”
Kyuhyun tenses. The air’s changing again. He really does need to be careful. “No, but,” and he held his finger up to indicate she wait for him to finish, “think. Just for a moment. Did he have a good reason?”
The girl’s eyes change from hard to uncertain, and now her lip quivers. “I… I don’t know…”
“You need to think. Remember.” It’s dangerous, he tells himself, pushing her to relive these memories. But, he believes, there’s a reason for everything. There’s a reason she slipped through the crack. And yes, there is a reason why she’s remembering, even if he doesn’t know it yet.
The girl pauses, eyes drifting away. “I…”
The bulb above them flickers quickly now.
Kyuhyun whispers her name, but it’s lost in the white noise that has filled her ears, the noise that is pressing against her as she recedes into herself.
“I…”
***
“I don’t want to go home yet! Can’t we go get ice cream at the corner?”
“No,” and he shakes his head, hand gently grasping hers, “we need to go home.”
“Why? Aunty Gina says I can stay overnight if I want.” She likes her friend’s mom - she stands up straight, carries herself like a lady from the past. She wishes their mom was like that.
“Because you need be home.”
She scowls and yanks her hand out of her brother’s grasp. “No!” She stamps her foot on the ground, crosses her arms over her chest. “I want ice cream!”
Her brother sighs. “No, you don’t. Come on.” And he reaches for her hand again, but she tugs it away. Her stomach is beginning to knot. She doesn’t want to go home.
“No,” she says again, and while it’s firm it’s no longer said angrily.
Her brother says her name, but while she hears it she doesn’t at the same time. Like it’s been removed and only her memory knows it’s there.
“Please,” she says, and her voice quivers.
Her brother sees this because his face changes from one of brotherly annoyance to one of brotherly concern. “It’s okay. I’ll be there. It’ll be okay.”
“Please,” she begs, but she doesn’t resist as he takes her hand, squeezes it comfortingly as they walk.
“Come on.”
“Please…”
***
“Please…” Jungsu begs as Youngwoon’s lips brush across a sensitive spot on his collarbone. He’s straddling his boyfriend now, the only light in the room for the lamp on their nightstand.
“Mmm,” Youngwoon affirms, lightly lapping at the bone before making his way down to an exposed nipple. The tip of his tongue grazes it, making it pucker and rise, making Jungsu whimper in a tinny bell.
“Kangin,” he pleads again, and this time his hips buck up, brushing against Youngwoon’s obvious desire. Now it’s Youngwoon’s turn to whimper, but this soon turns into a growl as his hands clutch at Jungsu’s hips and keep him pressed there so he can grind against the pressure.
“Don’t tease me,” he growls in pretend warning as he presses kisses all over Jungsu’s stomach.
“Then please,” and Jungsu’s arms wrap around his neck, and he leans down, cheek pressed into the black hair on his head, lips just above his ear. “Please…”
That’s all Youngwoon needs to growl again, pulling back enough to grasp Jungsu’s face and pull him in for a clashing kiss.
***
“Please,” she begs.
Jungsu doesn’t say anything, just holds her hand tighter as they round the corner, see home just ahead.
The pit in his stomach has grown. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten her. But no, his mother wanted them both home.
“Please…”
***
Kyuhyun says her name again and reaches a hand out to cover hers.
That touch makes the tension snap.
A cracking, and the bulb flickers out for good.
***
Youngwoon gasps. Jungsu’s lips have moved from his lips to his neck. And when he gasps, it’s not just out of pleasure.
It’s of surprise.
“Ow,” he chuckles. “You bit me, Teukie.” His hand runs over the blond and amber hair. “You’ve never done that before.”
But when Jungsu looks up, and it’s only to murmur a “Shhhh” in ashes, Youngwoon feels something curl heavy in his stomach. And then the pleasure he feels, the gentle touches on hypersensitive skin, overrides everything, except for the shadow of one thought:
Even in the light, Jungsu’s eyes have the curling blackness in them.
***
Jungsu bites his lip as they reach the steps. She’s squeezing his hand like a vise, and it hurts, but he doesn’t dare tell her so. He needs to be brave.
Even if he doesn’t feel it.
He doesn’t get a chance to open the door - it swings open for them. And there he is, a scowl on his face and in his eyes.
“You’re late,” the man states.
“Sorry, Appa,” he begins, “she went to the park.”
“The park?” His eyes flick to the girl, and she shrinks behind Jungsu. The tips of his fingers are tingling. “You were supposed to be at a friend’s.”
“And we went to the park.” She says this slowly, carefully.
He looks down at them, and something else is in his eyes, but Jungsu can’t place what it is. He’s terrible at reading his emotions.
“Take your sister inside now,” he orders, moving aside to let them through. “No more outings today.”
“Well,” and he’s nervous but he has to ask, “I was thinking we could go out for---”
“I said NO.” The voice is firm.
But no, he has to plead. For her. “She really wanted ice cream, Appa, and---”
The force on his cheek strikes a second before the pain does. He hears his sister cry out, but he keeps his eyes closed.
This way, he doesn’t see the other hand coming at him.
***
“OW!”
Jungsu gasps as he’s dragged back to reality. He blinks, sees the pillow, sees Youngwoon’s shoulder. It’s the same shoulder he’s had his lips pressed against.
Except there’s a small spot of blood on it.
He backs up quickly, hand still on Youngwoon’s shoulder. His eyes are locked on the blood, so he doesn’t see the small smile on his boyfriend’s face as he looks at the damage.
“Wow,” Youngwoon says in surprise, “you actually broke the skin.” His eyes now turn to Jungsu, and the surprise fades to worry. “Teukie? What’s wrong?” His hands take hold of Jungsu’s. “Are you okay?”
“Oh god…” Jungsu can still feel the memory, fresh and risen, in his mind. It’s fading back, yes, as the others have. But it’s still there, the feeling of need, protection…fear…
“I… I remember,” he finally manages to say in whispers of salt.
“What? What do you remember?”
Jungsu blinks, swallows down the fear to tell Youngwoon the truth because the truth is all Youngwoon has deserved:
“My family.”
tbc...