Paradise (Kibum/Donghae + Eunhyuk) R
Title: Paradise
Pairing: Kibum/Donghae, Donghae/Eunhyuk, Kibum/Donghae/Eunhyuk
Rating: R
Summary: Kibum's not used to the underground places of the world, but it's there that he finds paradise.
Notes: For euods (Chapter 1), heythere_hannah (Chapter 2), mulkkogi (Chapter 3) and skadihelias (Chapter 4)'s fic requests here. I'm sorry it's so... vague and generally not very good. Kibum is difficult to write for some reason. But anyways - Kibum is a businessman's son, Donghae and Eunhyuk are strippers, etcetc. ♥
Chapters One through Four
Kibum had never been to a place like this. In fact, he wasn’t even sure how he’d been persuaded to go there in the first place. He could remember something about “drinks” and “on Heechul” and “it’ll be so much fun, live a little, you’re getting gray hairs”. He’s pretty sure it was the hair thing that did it.
So there he was, nursing an odd mixture of alcohol at the bar and staring across the room. It was pretty dark; he couldn’t make out anyone’s face, save for those who were vaguely illuminated by the harsh, bright lights of the stage in the centre of the room. There was music playing, too, something too techno for him to ever really enjoy. He couldn’t distinguish the words in the catcalls of the hidden faces. He could only hear shouts and cheers and things that he knew he didn’t care about enough to remember.
Suddenly the cries intensified to the point that Kibum could hear them over the music, and he looked up instinctively to see which body had caught their attention. It only took him a moment to realize why everyone was going crazy.
Strutting up the runway was a gorgeous man clad in some sort of blue material. It was tight in some areas (Kibum blushed as his eyes ran across a bulge at the junction of the man’s thighs) and draping in others (he rather liked the way it hung from those arms), and the light reflecting from it made it appear to be shimmering, rippling water. The man’s body seemed as close to perfect as anyone could get; he had the best-looking abs Kibum had ever seen (which meant that the man had a lightly-defined four-pack - Kibum wasn’t into muscular men), and his legs were just curvy enough to meet the borderline between feminine and masculine without stepping over it. And his face… Kibum let himself just stare at that face, not caring, for once, about anything else. His eyes swept over his jaw, his cheekbones, his nose, up to his eyes, and -
The man looked at him
and his eyes
were everything that Kibum had imagined paradise would look like.
The man mouthed something to him then, something that he almost didn’t catch because he was so caught up in those eyes. The man whispered,
my name is Lee Donghae
and then he pressed himself against the metal pole on the stage, and he danced. Secretly, Kibum believed that he was dancing for no one else but him. As he watched that body swing and stretch, he subconsciously rose to his feet and walked over to the stage.
Donghae caught his eye again
and winked at him
even as he flipped himself upside down.
Kibum watched his entire performance. Every movement, every gesture, every little crotch-shake designed to entice the people who watched just as reverently as he into giving away their money made Kibum become even more caught up.
The last moves were some of the most amazing Kibum had ever seen. It wasn’t a strip show, even though the blue fabric that had once covered the man’s body had all but fallen away; it was a dance, a work of art, something that made Kibum’s heart cry out in need of fulfillment. Donghae wrapped his legs around the pole and wound himself around it before making a series of complicated arm movements - completely suspended in the air, without a single part touching the ground. He arched backwards, his arms spread behind his head, his ankles crossed over the pole, and, as the last of the fabric slipped from his hips, he looked at Kibum and smiled.
As the crowd broke into even louder cheers, the dancer made a graceful exit from the stage, only to be replaced by seemingly lesser workers who collected the money being thrown. Kibum found himself pushing through the mass of sweaty, alcoholic bodies, searching desperately for that one person who had so captured his heart. The bouncers tried to stop him until he pressed a wad of bills into their hands, and then he had free access.
The backstage area of the strip joint was lit by harsh, fluorescent lights. It wasn’t much more than a cheap cement dressing room, with one hallway that had a few doors built into the walls. Kibum looked around for a moment before he spotted one that was ajar and figured that it was as good a place to start as any. He walked over and knocked a little, trying not to peek in.
“I thought I was done for tonight,” came a voice, and without knowing it Kibum knew it.
“Sorry, I just - ”
Then Donghae was looking at him, and those eyes were exactly the same, and Kibum felt like he lost part of his soul to them in that instant.
---------
Donghae told him that he didn’t do housecalls, but Kibum only had to speak to the manager for a moment and give him a donation of sorts before Donghae was walking out to his car with him. Kibum was a little surprised by the obvious innocence in the other man’s mannerisms and speech, but he didn’t say anything.
“I’m sleeping over?” he asked, those eyes wide and shining with something Kibum couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“Yeah,” he replied, glancing over as he began to drive away. “You are.”
“Goodie~” Donghae giggled, looking out the window and smiling to himself.
-------
Chapter 2
By the time they reached the bedroom, they had lost all of their clothing.
Kibum was, once again, amazed by Donghae’s seemingly inherent ability to transform into the complete opposite of what he was. He’d gone from that innocent, almost naïve little boy into a sex god, nothing but lips and tongue and secret, sinful smiles.
He was glad that Donghae knew what he was doing, because he’d sort of lost all his coherency by this point. The other man led him through every step; every kiss, every touch, every gentle brush of his fingers. This time, Kibum wasn’t just a voyeur. He was a part of the dance itself.
Despite having said that he “didn’t do housecalls”, Donghae seemed to have a good idea of what he was doing. It only took him a moment to slide up Kibum’s chest, pressing soft, suckling kisses to the flushed skin, and in seconds he was stroking Kibum to full hardness. Kibum’s hands scrambled for purchase on Donghae’s body, but the dancer just giggled and pressed a “shush, patience” to his lips.
Kibum felt two slender fingers slip into his mouth, and he sucked eagerly, enjoying the taste. He shut his eyes momentarily, wanting to remember how it felt, but, as soon as he did, the fingers disappeared. He blinked and moaned at the sight in front of him.
Donghae had positioned his slick fingers between his thighs and was currently prepping himself, his head tossed back and a stream of moans and whimpers escaping him.
Kibum wasted no time in flipping Donghae onto his back and spreading his legs. They kissed again, messily, and Kibum eased himself into Donghae eagerly.
It wasn’t as tight as he’d expected, and Donghae didn’t seem to feel too much pain, so he began to thrust. Then, suddenly, the dancer was moaning and clenching around him, and their chests were pressed together, and Kibum had never felt this good in his entire life.
“D-Donghae…!”
He saw those eyes again, and
for the first time
he became a part of that blue paradise.
--------
They took turns in the shower afterward, mostly because Kibum felt awkward about being naked in front of anyone for longer than was absolutely necessary. He let Donghae go first.
“What do you wanna do now?” was the other man’s first question upon his re-entry to the bedroom. Kibum, caught off-guard, blinked a few times.
“Sleep would be nice, I think…”
Donghae watched him as he got into bed, folding the covers over himself neatly.
“You want to sleep? Do you want anything else?”
Kibum blinked again. “No, thank you…”
“Okay.” Donghae shrugged, grinned, slid under the covers and curled up to himself. In a few moments he was snoring.
Kibum had to remind himself that this was real, not a dream. It was real, and it was beside him. His fingers found their way into the dancer’s hair and, for a time, he just watched him sleep soundlessly, a gentle smile on his face, his eyelashes fluttering softly in the breeze of his breath.
How, he wondered, as he slipped off to sleep himself, how does one become a vessel of paradise?
-------
Chapter 3
The next time they saw each other was the day Kibum realized that he wasn’t the only one who saw paradise in Donghae’s eyes.
He went back to the club, went back to his seat at the bar, went back to his subtly alcoholic stupor and waited for Donghae to come out and dance. When he did, though, somebody else was on stage alongside him.
The other dancer was thin, almost scarily so, but there was obvious muscle tone beneath the pale skin that adorned his body. He had small eyes and a strangely boyish smile; whenever he grinned at the overweight men beneath him, his gums would appear. More often than not, though, he would flash those gums at Donghae, and Donghae would laugh, toss his head back, press his hips against the other man’s body.
Kibum felt something stirring in his heart and in his pants, and both felings made him angrier than he ever thought he could b.
Their routine continued, now with Donghae running his hands over the other dancer’s body, pressing his lips against his neck, just barely brushing that too-pale skin with kisses. Their hips seemed to be glued together. Donghae rolled his body, and his partner did the same, and after a few minutes they moaned in unison. The crowd around them cheered.
Kibum didn’t want to watch any more of it. He grabbed his coat, slapped some bills down - how many, he didn’t notice - and tossed a glare in their direction before storming out of the club.
The night air was cold against his face, fresh, and as soon as it hit him he realized what he was actually feeling. He was jealous. Not over a married woman or pretty girl or even a secretary, but over a stripper he didn’t know. He cursed himself but his feet turned and took him back into the club, back into the hot, loud room, back up to that stage with a pole and two, now very naked, dancers writhing against one another.
“Donghae!”
He’d said it before he realized his mouth was open. The dancers stared at him, but kept moving, kept grinding, and
those eyes, that paradise
glanced first at the other dancer, whose gums flashed
and then at Kibum, who felt his heart jump out of his chest.
-----
Somehow they decided, without words, to go to that hotel again. Along the way, Kibum learned that this new dancer was named Eunhyuk, and he had, in fact, been dancing together with Donghae for a number of years. He didn’t pry into their relationship, but he could tell by the way they looked at each other - all bright eyes and gummy smiles - that they were as close to love as anyone could hope to get.
Then, as those gums faded away and a tongue slipped into his mouth, Kibum forgot about the anger he had felt - at least in part. He tugged Donghae closer to him and groped him drunkenly, moaning into Eunhyuk’s mouth, as the two dancers giggled and stripped him of all his clothing.
He felt himself being pushed against the bed, and suddenly there was a mouth on his cock (when did he get that hard?) and fingers in his mouth (it tasted like chocolate) and he was overcome by pleasure. The dancers were giggling, and Kibum closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, there was paradise.
Between the kisses and the rubbing and the absolute need of their bodies, Kibum knew, he knew, that this was what he’d been wishing for. As he watched the two of them make out slowly, emitting hungry sounds every so often, he slipped his fingers inside of them. The sounds got louder, increased in pitch, and he smirked at the dirtiness of it all.
It was dirty, but it was paradise.
It felt like no time passed before Donghae was on top of him, riding him and sucking Eunhyuk off at the same time. Kibum watched, and it didn’t take long before he felt that familiar burn of jealousy in his stomach. Without warning, he shoved Donghae off of him, pulled Eunhyuk down, and forced them both into position. When he finally sheathed himself back inside of Donghae, Eunhyuk was the one who cried out; Donghae’s cock was inside of the other dancer, who was pressed against the mattress.
They fucked like that for a while, for a long while, and when they came it was staggered and loud, one against the next inside the other. They didn’t pull apart but instead fell asleep, curled into each other, warm bodies uncovered by cloth or fabric or life.
-----
Chapter 4
One day, Kibum’s father called him. They argued. Donghae and Eunhyuk watched it all from their place on the bed, without saying a word.
“Dad, fuck off, okay?! I’m not taking over - no! I said no! Fuck, why don’t you just open your ears for once and listen?! Fine! Fine! Fuck off!!”
Kibum threw the phone across the room, where it hit a wall and shattered. Donghae flinched, and Eunhyuk held him tighter against his chest.
Kibum clambered back into the bed, fuming, and didn’t look at either of them.
“I’m not taking over,” he mumbled after a moment, sullen and sulking. “I don’t want to run his stupid company. I don’t even like money.”
Donghae crawled over to him and cuddled with him. Eunhyuk followed not long after.
“Do you want to forget?” they whispered to him, tugging gently at his already-loosened shirt and pants, pressing their lips to his baby-soft skin. “Do you want to go to paradise?”
Kibum nodded, closed his eyes, and then there he was again.
Their fucking that day was slow, smooth, peaceful. Kibum’s world disappeared and was replaced by the soft skin and hungry moans of the dancers who had somehow become his lovers. When they pressed themselves against him, against each other, he forgot about taking over the company, about the wads of cash that had gotten him to where he was now, about the guilt he felt every day for being something he didn’t want to be.
“Don’t worry,” they whispered to him, stroking and licking and sucking. “Don’t worry, we’re right here.”
Kibum’s moans filled the room as the dancers did those things to him over and over, again and again, ceaselessly, without an end.
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had everything he needed to hide away in paradise forever. There might as well have been no company, no father relentlessly trying to marry him off to a rich woman and succeed the family name. It was all a lie to him.
The only truth was the physicality of the two men who lie in bed with him night after night, day after day, searching for a paradise of their own.
Pairing: Kibum/Donghae, Donghae/Eunhyuk, Kibum/Donghae/Eunhyuk
Rating: R
Summary: Kibum's not used to the underground places of the world, but it's there that he finds paradise.
Notes: For euods (Chapter 1), heythere_hannah (Chapter 2), mulkkogi (Chapter 3) and skadihelias (Chapter 4)'s fic requests here. I'm sorry it's so... vague and generally not very good. Kibum is difficult to write for some reason. But anyways - Kibum is a businessman's son, Donghae and Eunhyuk are strippers, etcetc. ♥
Chapters One through Four
Kibum had never been to a place like this. In fact, he wasn’t even sure how he’d been persuaded to go there in the first place. He could remember something about “drinks” and “on Heechul” and “it’ll be so much fun, live a little, you’re getting gray hairs”. He’s pretty sure it was the hair thing that did it.
So there he was, nursing an odd mixture of alcohol at the bar and staring across the room. It was pretty dark; he couldn’t make out anyone’s face, save for those who were vaguely illuminated by the harsh, bright lights of the stage in the centre of the room. There was music playing, too, something too techno for him to ever really enjoy. He couldn’t distinguish the words in the catcalls of the hidden faces. He could only hear shouts and cheers and things that he knew he didn’t care about enough to remember.
Suddenly the cries intensified to the point that Kibum could hear them over the music, and he looked up instinctively to see which body had caught their attention. It only took him a moment to realize why everyone was going crazy.
Strutting up the runway was a gorgeous man clad in some sort of blue material. It was tight in some areas (Kibum blushed as his eyes ran across a bulge at the junction of the man’s thighs) and draping in others (he rather liked the way it hung from those arms), and the light reflecting from it made it appear to be shimmering, rippling water. The man’s body seemed as close to perfect as anyone could get; he had the best-looking abs Kibum had ever seen (which meant that the man had a lightly-defined four-pack - Kibum wasn’t into muscular men), and his legs were just curvy enough to meet the borderline between feminine and masculine without stepping over it. And his face… Kibum let himself just stare at that face, not caring, for once, about anything else. His eyes swept over his jaw, his cheekbones, his nose, up to his eyes, and -
The man looked at him
and his eyes
were everything that Kibum had imagined paradise would look like.
The man mouthed something to him then, something that he almost didn’t catch because he was so caught up in those eyes. The man whispered,
my name is Lee Donghae
and then he pressed himself against the metal pole on the stage, and he danced. Secretly, Kibum believed that he was dancing for no one else but him. As he watched that body swing and stretch, he subconsciously rose to his feet and walked over to the stage.
Donghae caught his eye again
and winked at him
even as he flipped himself upside down.
Kibum watched his entire performance. Every movement, every gesture, every little crotch-shake designed to entice the people who watched just as reverently as he into giving away their money made Kibum become even more caught up.
The last moves were some of the most amazing Kibum had ever seen. It wasn’t a strip show, even though the blue fabric that had once covered the man’s body had all but fallen away; it was a dance, a work of art, something that made Kibum’s heart cry out in need of fulfillment. Donghae wrapped his legs around the pole and wound himself around it before making a series of complicated arm movements - completely suspended in the air, without a single part touching the ground. He arched backwards, his arms spread behind his head, his ankles crossed over the pole, and, as the last of the fabric slipped from his hips, he looked at Kibum and smiled.
As the crowd broke into even louder cheers, the dancer made a graceful exit from the stage, only to be replaced by seemingly lesser workers who collected the money being thrown. Kibum found himself pushing through the mass of sweaty, alcoholic bodies, searching desperately for that one person who had so captured his heart. The bouncers tried to stop him until he pressed a wad of bills into their hands, and then he had free access.
The backstage area of the strip joint was lit by harsh, fluorescent lights. It wasn’t much more than a cheap cement dressing room, with one hallway that had a few doors built into the walls. Kibum looked around for a moment before he spotted one that was ajar and figured that it was as good a place to start as any. He walked over and knocked a little, trying not to peek in.
“I thought I was done for tonight,” came a voice, and without knowing it Kibum knew it.
“Sorry, I just - ”
Then Donghae was looking at him, and those eyes were exactly the same, and Kibum felt like he lost part of his soul to them in that instant.
---------
Donghae told him that he didn’t do housecalls, but Kibum only had to speak to the manager for a moment and give him a donation of sorts before Donghae was walking out to his car with him. Kibum was a little surprised by the obvious innocence in the other man’s mannerisms and speech, but he didn’t say anything.
“I’m sleeping over?” he asked, those eyes wide and shining with something Kibum couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“Yeah,” he replied, glancing over as he began to drive away. “You are.”
“Goodie~” Donghae giggled, looking out the window and smiling to himself.
-------
Chapter 2
By the time they reached the bedroom, they had lost all of their clothing.
Kibum was, once again, amazed by Donghae’s seemingly inherent ability to transform into the complete opposite of what he was. He’d gone from that innocent, almost naïve little boy into a sex god, nothing but lips and tongue and secret, sinful smiles.
He was glad that Donghae knew what he was doing, because he’d sort of lost all his coherency by this point. The other man led him through every step; every kiss, every touch, every gentle brush of his fingers. This time, Kibum wasn’t just a voyeur. He was a part of the dance itself.
Despite having said that he “didn’t do housecalls”, Donghae seemed to have a good idea of what he was doing. It only took him a moment to slide up Kibum’s chest, pressing soft, suckling kisses to the flushed skin, and in seconds he was stroking Kibum to full hardness. Kibum’s hands scrambled for purchase on Donghae’s body, but the dancer just giggled and pressed a “shush, patience” to his lips.
Kibum felt two slender fingers slip into his mouth, and he sucked eagerly, enjoying the taste. He shut his eyes momentarily, wanting to remember how it felt, but, as soon as he did, the fingers disappeared. He blinked and moaned at the sight in front of him.
Donghae had positioned his slick fingers between his thighs and was currently prepping himself, his head tossed back and a stream of moans and whimpers escaping him.
Kibum wasted no time in flipping Donghae onto his back and spreading his legs. They kissed again, messily, and Kibum eased himself into Donghae eagerly.
It wasn’t as tight as he’d expected, and Donghae didn’t seem to feel too much pain, so he began to thrust. Then, suddenly, the dancer was moaning and clenching around him, and their chests were pressed together, and Kibum had never felt this good in his entire life.
“D-Donghae…!”
He saw those eyes again, and
for the first time
he became a part of that blue paradise.
--------
They took turns in the shower afterward, mostly because Kibum felt awkward about being naked in front of anyone for longer than was absolutely necessary. He let Donghae go first.
“What do you wanna do now?” was the other man’s first question upon his re-entry to the bedroom. Kibum, caught off-guard, blinked a few times.
“Sleep would be nice, I think…”
Donghae watched him as he got into bed, folding the covers over himself neatly.
“You want to sleep? Do you want anything else?”
Kibum blinked again. “No, thank you…”
“Okay.” Donghae shrugged, grinned, slid under the covers and curled up to himself. In a few moments he was snoring.
Kibum had to remind himself that this was real, not a dream. It was real, and it was beside him. His fingers found their way into the dancer’s hair and, for a time, he just watched him sleep soundlessly, a gentle smile on his face, his eyelashes fluttering softly in the breeze of his breath.
How, he wondered, as he slipped off to sleep himself, how does one become a vessel of paradise?
-------
Chapter 3
The next time they saw each other was the day Kibum realized that he wasn’t the only one who saw paradise in Donghae’s eyes.
He went back to the club, went back to his seat at the bar, went back to his subtly alcoholic stupor and waited for Donghae to come out and dance. When he did, though, somebody else was on stage alongside him.
The other dancer was thin, almost scarily so, but there was obvious muscle tone beneath the pale skin that adorned his body. He had small eyes and a strangely boyish smile; whenever he grinned at the overweight men beneath him, his gums would appear. More often than not, though, he would flash those gums at Donghae, and Donghae would laugh, toss his head back, press his hips against the other man’s body.
Kibum felt something stirring in his heart and in his pants, and both felings made him angrier than he ever thought he could b.
Their routine continued, now with Donghae running his hands over the other dancer’s body, pressing his lips against his neck, just barely brushing that too-pale skin with kisses. Their hips seemed to be glued together. Donghae rolled his body, and his partner did the same, and after a few minutes they moaned in unison. The crowd around them cheered.
Kibum didn’t want to watch any more of it. He grabbed his coat, slapped some bills down - how many, he didn’t notice - and tossed a glare in their direction before storming out of the club.
The night air was cold against his face, fresh, and as soon as it hit him he realized what he was actually feeling. He was jealous. Not over a married woman or pretty girl or even a secretary, but over a stripper he didn’t know. He cursed himself but his feet turned and took him back into the club, back into the hot, loud room, back up to that stage with a pole and two, now very naked, dancers writhing against one another.
“Donghae!”
He’d said it before he realized his mouth was open. The dancers stared at him, but kept moving, kept grinding, and
those eyes, that paradise
glanced first at the other dancer, whose gums flashed
and then at Kibum, who felt his heart jump out of his chest.
-----
Somehow they decided, without words, to go to that hotel again. Along the way, Kibum learned that this new dancer was named Eunhyuk, and he had, in fact, been dancing together with Donghae for a number of years. He didn’t pry into their relationship, but he could tell by the way they looked at each other - all bright eyes and gummy smiles - that they were as close to love as anyone could hope to get.
Then, as those gums faded away and a tongue slipped into his mouth, Kibum forgot about the anger he had felt - at least in part. He tugged Donghae closer to him and groped him drunkenly, moaning into Eunhyuk’s mouth, as the two dancers giggled and stripped him of all his clothing.
He felt himself being pushed against the bed, and suddenly there was a mouth on his cock (when did he get that hard?) and fingers in his mouth (it tasted like chocolate) and he was overcome by pleasure. The dancers were giggling, and Kibum closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, there was paradise.
Between the kisses and the rubbing and the absolute need of their bodies, Kibum knew, he knew, that this was what he’d been wishing for. As he watched the two of them make out slowly, emitting hungry sounds every so often, he slipped his fingers inside of them. The sounds got louder, increased in pitch, and he smirked at the dirtiness of it all.
It was dirty, but it was paradise.
It felt like no time passed before Donghae was on top of him, riding him and sucking Eunhyuk off at the same time. Kibum watched, and it didn’t take long before he felt that familiar burn of jealousy in his stomach. Without warning, he shoved Donghae off of him, pulled Eunhyuk down, and forced them both into position. When he finally sheathed himself back inside of Donghae, Eunhyuk was the one who cried out; Donghae’s cock was inside of the other dancer, who was pressed against the mattress.
They fucked like that for a while, for a long while, and when they came it was staggered and loud, one against the next inside the other. They didn’t pull apart but instead fell asleep, curled into each other, warm bodies uncovered by cloth or fabric or life.
-----
Chapter 4
One day, Kibum’s father called him. They argued. Donghae and Eunhyuk watched it all from their place on the bed, without saying a word.
“Dad, fuck off, okay?! I’m not taking over - no! I said no! Fuck, why don’t you just open your ears for once and listen?! Fine! Fine! Fuck off!!”
Kibum threw the phone across the room, where it hit a wall and shattered. Donghae flinched, and Eunhyuk held him tighter against his chest.
Kibum clambered back into the bed, fuming, and didn’t look at either of them.
“I’m not taking over,” he mumbled after a moment, sullen and sulking. “I don’t want to run his stupid company. I don’t even like money.”
Donghae crawled over to him and cuddled with him. Eunhyuk followed not long after.
“Do you want to forget?” they whispered to him, tugging gently at his already-loosened shirt and pants, pressing their lips to his baby-soft skin. “Do you want to go to paradise?”
Kibum nodded, closed his eyes, and then there he was again.
Their fucking that day was slow, smooth, peaceful. Kibum’s world disappeared and was replaced by the soft skin and hungry moans of the dancers who had somehow become his lovers. When they pressed themselves against him, against each other, he forgot about taking over the company, about the wads of cash that had gotten him to where he was now, about the guilt he felt every day for being something he didn’t want to be.
“Don’t worry,” they whispered to him, stroking and licking and sucking. “Don’t worry, we’re right here.”
Kibum’s moans filled the room as the dancers did those things to him over and over, again and again, ceaselessly, without an end.
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had everything he needed to hide away in paradise forever. There might as well have been no company, no father relentlessly trying to marry him off to a rich woman and succeed the family name. It was all a lie to him.
The only truth was the physicality of the two men who lie in bed with him night after night, day after day, searching for a paradise of their own.