Risky Business (Chapter 6 )
“Why won’t you just leave?” he grumbled, throwing another can of beer into the pile at his feet. He and his car were both a mess, both reeking of the alcohol he’d imbibed and spilled all over himself and the seats as he’d become more and more inebriated. His mind was made up, however. He wasn’t leaving, not until he’d done what he’d come to do.
Key lay back against the pillows, the open black box resting in his palm as he gazed at its glittery contents. It was something he’d done at least a couple times a day since ‘the incident.’ It was so beautiful… He couldn’t bear to touch it, had never tried it on. He simply stared at it until the emotions overwhelmed him and he forced himself to put it away. It was a symbol of Jonghyun’s love, a love he believed in and missed greatly. A love whose echo still beat strongly within his own chest. But after what had happened last time… His love had no home. He hadn’t seen or spoken to Jong since, had no real desire to if he was honest with himself, yet he missed him with every fiber of his being. He hadn’t forgiven him yet but he yearned for him and wished that Jong had fought for him. Instead he seemed to have given up. He’d texted the day after, apologizing for his behaviour, but that had been it. No emails, no messages, no calls. He hadn’t seeked him out or tried to come over as far as Key was aware. There had been no accidental run-ins at school. Nada. Absolutely nothing.
“It’s like he threw me away…” Key whispered. He felt abandoned and he hated it. He’d been in that place before and it wasn’t somewhere he wanted to visit again. He’d barely made it out last time.
“Babe, I’m heading out now.” Minho strolled into the room and froze as soon as he saw Key with the box in his hand. As Key’s eyes met his, he noticed the tears that sparkled on the tips of his eyelashes. Lowering himself onto the bed beside Key, he said tentatively, “Maybe I should stay…”
Key shook his head. “No, I’m okay. You go on ahead. It’s important.”
Minho raised his hand and wiped the tears from Key’s eyes with gentle fingers. “Do you even know that you’re crying?”
“Am I?” Key asked, genuinely surprised. He rubbed his eyes until all the moisture was gone. “Just being an emo queen I guess.”
“Key…” Minho took the jewelry box from him and placed it back in the draw in the bedside table. “You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself.”
“I know… I know and you’re right, it’s just…” He trailed off, not wanting to rehash his feelings again. They’d already talked about it extensively and he felt bad about constantly weighing Minho down with his drama. He was so good to him and he deserved more than Key would ever be able to give.
Forcing a smile, he shook off his misery. “You should get going, you’re already late.”
Minho’s hesitation was obvious. “Are you sure? It’s okay if I stay, I’ll be okay in the exam.”
“No, no. School comes first, remember? That’s the promise we made when we became roommates.” He playfully pushed Minho on the chest to get him moving. “So scoot!”
Minho’s eyes were still very serious as he gauged just what state Key was in. He decided to give him some time alone, knowing that he was probably over-protective at times while he tried to take care of him. Maybe Key just wanted some space and didn’t know how to ask.
“Okay, but call if you need me.”
Key nodded. “You know I will. I can’t seem to function without you,” he joked.
Minho smiled slightly. He leaned forward and kissed Key lightly on the lips. He couldn’t resist allowing himself to linger a little before forcing himself to pull back and move away. He always wanted more and he knew he would never get it. Before he started indulging in his own emo-ness, he said, “I’ll see you in a bit,” and walked out.
Key brought his fingers to his lips, his gaze fixed on the door through which Minho had just exited. It was always there, Minho’s love for him. He could never deny it, never pretend it didn’t exist. It was in every look, every touch, every kiss, every kind act and comforting word. He couldn’t imagine the kind of control it must take for Minho to keep himself in check and not try to force more on Key or demand more from him, especially since he’d been leaning on Minho so much lately. The thought made him really sad.
“Why couldn’t I have loved you?” he whispered, his throat clogging with unshed tears.
He jumped at the sudden banging on the front door, his heart sticking in his throat. He slid off the bed and walked to the living-room. It wasn’t like Minho to forget something or be so loud with his knocking but perhaps Key hadn’t heard his first attempts and he was trying to get his attention. Without checking the security screen, he swung the door open. And froze.
“Can I come in?” Jong asked softly. He marveled at the fact that his speech wasn’t slurred, finally becoming aware of just how drunk he was. He hadn’t meant to drink so much but that damn Minho just wouldn’t leave.
Wordlessly, Key stepped back and allowed him to enter, closing the door behind him.
It felt like forever since he’d been there, years instead of a couple of weeks, but everything looked the same. Well, what he could make out anyway. He tried his best not to squint so he could focus better but the light from the kitchen, which was right next to the living-room since it was all an open space, pierced his sensitive eyes. Realizing that Key was just standing there staring at him, he cleared his throat and said,
“How’ve you been?”
Key crossed his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing. “As well as can be expected, I guess. You?”
Jong shrugged. “Same.”
Key looked Jong over from head to toe. He looked normal, with the exception of his slightly mussed and strangely damp clothes, but he seemed distracted. And why was he squinting? Frowning, he asked, “Are you sure?”
Jong raised his eyes to Key’s, starting in his direction. He didn’t notice the handle of the sofa until he banged his knee into it. “SHIT!”
Key immediately rushed to his side but as Jong continued to let loose a string of profanities, he found himself bathed in the odor of stale alcohol. He took a step back, his eyes accusing as they glared at Jong’s face. “You’re drunk.”
Somehow Jong managed to pull off a haughty expression as he nonchalantly replied, “I may have had a drink or two.”
“So now you need liquid courage to talk to me?” Scoffing in disgust, Key strode to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. He’d been shocked, then insanely happy when he’d opened the door and seen Jong standing there. A million scenarios played out in his mind, admittedly some of which ended with them wrapped around each other in his bed, but most importantly, things would be fixed. Now that he realized Jong had probably spent some time drinking, working up the nerve to talk to him, he felt insulted. What had happened to them that things had broken down to such a state of disrepair? Jong had always been able to talk to him, no matter what. He’d said that Key was the only one he’d ever known who he felt comfortable pouring his heart and soul out to. Key knew, and understood, that their last parting hadn’t been exactly promising. His little breakdown may have put Jong off somewhat but… Why had it taken him so long to come to him? And now that he was here, he was barely coherent. Was he trying to split them up for good? All these thoughts ran through his mind as he reached into a cupboard and pulled out a glass. He moved to the refrigerator to fill it, completely unaware of Jong’s presence behind him until he felt an arm wrap around his waist.
Leaning his cheek against Key’s back directly over his heart, Jong inhaled his scent and let his breath out on a mournful sigh. “I’ve missed you…”
Key’s fingers clenched around the glass tightly as his brain quickly reassessed the situation. Although it wasn’t the most romantic way to apologize, showing up on his doorstep plastered out of his mind, maybe Jong had just been afraid to approach him lest he be rejected. After his emotional outburst the last time, Key could understand why Jong might have been hesitant. He knew he was a little more ‘queen’ than Jong was used to, having been with someone as sedate as Onew for so long.
“I’m so sorry,” Jong continued, “for the things I did, how I made you feel. I just…I don’t know… Maybe I’m more messed up than we thought.”
Key couldn’t bear to hear the desolation and self-blame in his voice. He spun around so quickly that he lost his hold on the glass in his hand. It fell to the floor, shattering and spraying them with water at the same time. “Dammit!” He started to bend to clean it up but Jong grabbed him and hugged him tightly. Broken glass forgotten, he returned his hold. He was so happy just to be in Jong’s arms again that he didn’t notice the reeking alcohol any more.
“I love you so much Kibum.”
Key raised his head, intending to confess his love to Jong anew, but was cut off when Jong’s lips claimed his in a rough kiss. He’d missed this so much… He didn’t even care that Jong’s mouth tasted no better than a sewer probably did. He felt Jong’s hand slide down to his butt, his fingers digging in as he ground his hips into Key’s, making his intentions known. Personally, Key felt the need for a more tender lovemaking but Jong had always been a passionate man. It didn’t take much to get him from 0 to 180. He pulled back slightly, deciding that jumping into bed without talking everything out probably wasn’t the best idea, only to have Jong’s other hand thread through his hair, holding him in place as Jong’s lips continued their onslaught. He backed Key into the closest counter as his hips continued to rhythmically gyrate against Key’s.
Key started to panic. His breath began coming in short gasps, his fingers clenched as he tried unsuccessfully to push Jong away. He was taken back to an incident years ago where he’d experienced similar feelings of panic and suffocation. He hadn’t been able to save himself then, had only survived by the grace of God, but he wasn’t about to let it happen again. He bit down hard on Jong’s bottom lip while simultaneously fisting his hands and pummeling Jong in the stomach to put some space between them.
Jong jumped back in surprise. “What the… You bit me!” He swiped a finger at the corner of his lips. “I’m bleeding.” His eyes went hard. “What the hell did you do that for?”
Key gripped the counter behind him for support, forcing himself to take deep, calming breaths. “I think you should leave now.”
“Oh no, not this time. And there’s no pesky roommate to come to your rescue either.” Jong took a threatening step towards Key.
“Jong, you really should go. You’re drunk and you obviously aren’t thinking clearly. Maybe we can try to talk again when you’ve cleaned up a bit.”
“What’s there to think about? I thought we already said what needed to be said. I apologized, I said I loved you, you clearly love me. What else is there? I thought we were headed in the right direction, that being your bedroom, until you decided to chomp on my lip.”
Key sank as far back into the counter as he possibly could. “That’s not what I want.”
Jong laughed cruelly. “Oh, really? You could’ve fooled me. You were putty in my hands, baby, you always are.”
Key started to shake his head but Jong’s bark of disgust cut him off. “Don’t play the delicate innocent with me, Kibum. You’ve never complained about my being rough before, in fact I recall you begging for more on several occasions.”
Key’s face flooded with heat. It was embarrassing having their sexual history used as a weapon against him but it hurt his heart more that the man he loved had become so unrecognizable to him. This was not the Jong he’d fallen in love with. This Jong was malicious and not above taking a low blow to score a hit.
Jong moved in again, getting closer and closer. “Oh yes… I recall the whimpers of need and cries of pleasure, begging, always begging for more, so don’t even try to pretend that you didn’t like what I gave you.” Jong’s lips twisted into a nasty smile. “It’s not like I was the first man to plumb your depths anyway. I of all people know just how dirty you can get. Are you sure you really wanted him to stop, Key? Or were you just playing games with him like you are with me now?”
Key’s face drained of all colour. It was all he could do to keep his legs from collapsing under him. Had Jong really said those words? Of all the things, of all the most hateful comments he could have imagined, he never would’ve thought Jong would ever hurt him that badly. Before the thought fully formed in his head, he struck his hand out, his palm connection sharply with Jong’s cheek while his nails raked the tender flesh.
Yelping in pain, Jong reacted immediately, backhanding Key so hard that he flew backward and landed in the shards of broken glass. Key had tried to brace himself as he first hit the cupboard before sliding to the ground but he hadn’t anticipated the glass below and ended up pressing both palms down to soften his landing. He winced as the tiny fragments embedded themselves under his skin but his body was too frozen in shock to react otherwise.
“You little bitch!” Jonghyun swore, his eyes wild as he advanced on Key.
Unable to put up much of a fight from his position on the floor, Key ducked his head and brought his bleeding hands up over it, waiting for Jonghyun’s first strike to land.
It never came.
He heard what sounded like thundering hooves, followed by a murderous roar. Key looked up just in time to see Jong, who was looming in front of him, literally inches from his face, go pelting backwards against the opposite cupboard. He was then dragged upward and a hard fist made contact with his jaw.
“I warned you. I swore if you ever hurt him, I’d kill you,” Minho gritted, slamming his fist into Jonghyun’s face again. “I’m nothing if not a man of my word.”
Key was dazed, his head spinning as this unreal scene unfolded before him. He’d honestly thought he was going to die just now, at the hands of the man who owned his heart. Now he found himself in the position of having to save that man from certain death. Jonghyun was already on his way to being unconscious, his head lolling back, but Minho was too enraged to notice.
“Minho-ah…”
His voice was soft and raspy to his own ears so he was pretty sure Minho hadn’t heard anything above the roar in his head. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Minho. Stop…please.”
It was the last word that finally sunk in. Please. Minho’s head whipped towards Key, fury blazing in his dark eyes. Why was he stopping him? He was defending him against this monster. Just looking at Key set his blood boiling again. A purple bruise had already formed along the right side of his face: there was a shallow cut bleeding on the left side of his forehead that he didn’t even seem aware of. And his hands… A low growl started in Minho’s throat. He’d always loved Key’s hands, with their slim delicate fingers and smooth, soft skin. Now, they were torn and bloody.
He turned back to Jong, his fist rising of its own accord to strike another blow.
“Minho!”
The panic in Key’s voice stopped him this time.
“Just get him out of here. Please!” Key pleaded.
Minho didn’t want to let Key out of his sight for a second but Jonghyun needed to be dealt with and since he couldn’t pummel him to a bloody pulp like he wanted to, getting him away from Key was the next best thing. Without a word, he grabbed the bastard by his coat collar, dragged him stumbling from the apartment and half-towed/half-carried him down three flights of stairs to the back exit of the building. He didn’t want to use the elevator in case they were seen.
He fished Jong’s car keys out of his pocket and pressed the lock release. Once he’d located it by the sound of the alarm, he settled him behind the wheel.
“Look at me.” He slapped Jong to get him to focus on his face. “I don’t ever want to see you around here again, okay? You and Key done. Stay the hell away from him or I will finish what I started. That’s a promise.” He stuck the key in the ignition and slammed the door shut. Part of him hoped the building security spotted Jong passed out in the car and called the police but he only spared him that one thought as he hurried back to the building and raced up the stairs to his open apartment door.
He slowed his pace as he approached the kitchen again, bracing himself for what awaited him there. Key hadn’t moved: Minho didn’t think he had the strength to. He just stared into the distance, his eyes glassy. Minho approached him cautiously, not wanting to startle him. Just then, Key’s eyes swung up to his and a small smile tilted his lips.
“I’m okay, you know. I’m not gonna scamper off if you make a little noise.”
Minho took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his heart twisting painfully. “Oh baby…”
“That horrible, huh?” Key glanced down at his hands. “I really liked my hands too… Damn.”
Tears stung Minho’s eyes. Even though he looked like a light wind could knock him over, Key was still trying his best not to worry him by making light of the situation.
“We’d better get this mess cleaned up,” Key said calmly. “You know how much I hate a dirty kitchen.” He started to push off the ground with his hands before being painfully reminded of their condition. Flinching, he said, “I think I’m gonna need a little help.”
Forcing himself to move, Minho wrapped an arm around Key’s waist and gently lifted him off the floor. Taking in his battered face and bleeding hands once again, Minho decided, “You need to go to the hospital.”
Fear flashed in Key’s eyes. “No. I’m sure you can bandage me up, it’s not that…”
“Baby… Have you seen your face?” Minho lightly touched the gash on Key’s forehead. When Key winced, he clenched his teeth. “That’s gonna need a couple of stitches. No, you’re going to the hospital and I’m not taking no for an answer so don’t even waste your time arguing with me.”
Key didn’t want to make a bigger deal of the situation than it actually warranted but he could see that Minho was determined. He also knew that Minho wasn’t one to exaggerate so if he said that he needed medical attention then he really was worse off than he thought. He nodded and let himself be led out of the apartment. He waited while Minho got their coats and locked the door.
The drive to the hospital wasn’t long since there was one just around the corner from the university. They went straight to Accident & Emergency and it must have been a slow night because they were ushered into an examination room within five minutes. Their doctor, Dr. Lee, had a capable yet comforting air about him. His fingers were gentle as he thoroughly examined Key’s injuries.
“I’m afraid you’re going to need stitches on the forehead. Luckily, the cuts on your hand are superficial. The only problem is that some of the glass has gotten too far under the skin. We’ll extract what we can and dress it. Whatever remains will eventually push its way out.” The doctor moved briskly, setting up his instrument tray and getting straight to work.
Key usually wasn’t a fan of needles but Dr. Lee was efficient and he hardly felt a thing. The stitches were done before he knew it and his hands were cleaned and bandaged shortly after. They’d gotten most of the glass out, thankfully, though a few stubborn fragments remained. Minho was at his side, stroking his back soothingly during the entire thing. Again, he considered himself blessed to have someone so special always taking care of him.
“Well, I think that’s it,” Dr. Lee said. He paused as if he had something to say but wasn’t sure how to word it. “Son, I’m going to be honest with you. If this is some sort of domestic abuse situation, it’s my duty to encourage you to report it.”
Key’s eyes widened in surprise, sliding up to meet Minho’s for a second before returning to the doctor. “No, it’s…uh…nothing like that.”
Dr. Lee looked at him disbelievingly, his own gaze sliding to Minho’s free hand where it held Key’s now bandaged one. Key followed the doctor’s gaze, resting on Minho’s obviously bruised and swollen knuckles. He immediately jumped to Minho’s defense. “No, please don’t misunderstand. It wasn’t him who hurt me.”
He mentally slapped himself for his poor phrasing. He’d admitted that someone beat him, not that it wasn’t already obvious.
Dr. Lee smiled slightly. “I didn’t think so. He seems far too concerned about you to be the one who did the damage. But you really should consider reporting the assault…and get away from him before he does this to you again.”
“It’s already been taken care of,” Minho assured, his hand curling into a fist.
Dr. Lee nodded then walked to a mini-fridge where he took out a couple of ice packs. He handed one to Key and the other to Minho. “Better look after your hand, just in case you need to put it to use again.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Key said gratefully. At least they’d gotten a sympathetic doctor, one who didn’t judge. It was pretty obvious who and what Key was and after his last experience in a hospital, he’d learned that some people weren’t so professional or sympathetic if they disapproved of your lifestyle. That was why he’d been hesitant to come this time but he was glad that Minho had insisted.
“You can settle your bill at the front desk.”
Minho slid his arm around Key’s waist to help him off the examination table but as he started to apply pressure to Key’s left side, he visibly flinched and even whimpered a little. Dr. Lee rushed over and pulled Key’s t-shirt up, exposing his side. The pale skin there was now mottled with black and blue bruises from when he’d banged against the cupboard before landing in the glass.
A vein in Dr. Lee’s neck throbbed as he spoke through clenched teeth. “I think you’re going to need more ice packs.” His eyes sought Key’s again, worry evident in their brown depths. “Are you sure you won’t report it? Are you certain you’re safe?”
Key shook his head, his eyes staring at the ground in shame.
“I’ll take care of him,” Minho assured. “I won’t leave his side for a minute.”
Dr. Lee sized Minho up before nodding in satisfaction at what he saw. “Yes, I believe you.”
They paid their bill and, with a final thank you to Dr. Lee, made their way back home.
Disclaimer: I do NOT condone violence of any kind. If this were a real life situation, I'd hope Minho would keep kicking Jong's ass or Key would be smart enough NOT to go back to him, at least not until he sought treatment of some kind. Love may be blind but it's definitely not worth your life.