Midnight Sun (oneshot)
Title: Midnight Sun
Chapter: oneshot
Author: rookie_cherii
Band/Pairing: F.Cuz; Kan x Yejun
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: gore, (non-graphic) rape, character death I forgot about
Summary: All Yejun wished was to be left alone, untouched by people. But wishes always come with a price to be paid.
Comments: Uh. In the meanwhile, I sought inspiration from my secondary passion that is Korean boy bands, and this came to be after operating in sleep deprivation for a while. I quite like writing gore and Yejun, sadly I don't really get ideas including both too often. (Also, I didn't mean this as a songfic despite the obvious connection. w)
Disclaimer: I wish. :c
His pale hands reflect the bold white moon illuminating the rainy night. Glass stops him from reaching out to it. Chained doors. Locked doors. Barred windows, blocked windows, it's a world of its own, a world completely dedicated to him. Everything here is his for that fleeting moment that is forever. The forever he's trapped in against his own will.
How long will the blood reek? How long will he have to look at the slaughter that's taken place so long ago?
Is this the price a murderer must pay?
Black hair neatly cut to shade his eyes, Yejun gazes at the stars adrift in the sky. They must be laughing at him as they look down upon this place. He's long forgotten how clean air carries the scent of flowery moors, how laughter sounds like when it echos in the valley. How long has it been? Time has halted. The clocks have stopped. Here, days don't change, seasons won't reach him. The glass blocks his way. The moon will eventually shift, sun will replace it. Stars will fade, clouds will block the blue sky. Rain falls. But none of it reaches him, no matter how hard he presses against the cold window.
Solemnity. He wished to be alone; he wished to remain untouched by people. He wished he could be the only one here.
And the only one who heard that wish had to be the devil, no-one else.
Murderer! Murderer, scream the walls and the curtains, the paintings on the walls. They stare at him as he passes, although when he looks at them they pretend not to have noticed his presence. The house has agreed to be his guardian, his prison, it has agreed to keep outsiders away so that his wish will be properly granted. So that he can be alone.
He knows midnight in his heart. It's come, the moon is at its highest. Elsewhere, somewhere far away, people must be sleeping peacefully with their beloved ones. He does not know much about the world, anymore; it must have changed a great deal since then, but he's sure it hasn't stopped elsewhere. No, he's certain was there a way to get out of this silence there would be a whole world out there, with people, animals, songs, laughter...
He hears the age-old memories play like old, rusty records. The dining hall bustling with speech as his father argues with his uncle over the currency rates and how they affect their shares of the heritage money. His mother tells him off with a broken voice. "Not today! Not on the day!"
Yejun stops at the top of the stairs, listens to the rattling sounds. The house is as if it was alive again although the blood has stained the walls, although the twisted bodies lie in place in the carpets, tables, stairs, corridors. He closes his eyes, imagines they're all there in the hall. His aunts cry loudly over the clatter of utensils and plates. His uncle suggests a proper speech, his oldest cousin clings a spoon against his glass. He must be standing up as he speaks gracefully about their grandmother who is no more.
None of them are no more. But Yejun pretends for a minute that the reek is gone and that all in the musky air of the mansion is the scent of sorrow, not that of blood and flesh.
"Why aren't you there with them?" asks the familiar voice from behind him. His eyes are closed, and he can feel the presence of the slender male, the warm body right behind him. A cold shudder runs through his frame as the fingers smoothly run across his jawbone and down the side of his neck. The boy tilts his head back a little, breathes quietly past slightly parted lips. His hair slips off his forehead. An arm wraps around his waist, and he lets himself be pulled into the slightly rough embrace. "Why won't you go see them...?"
"I want to be alone", he murmurs, just like that night.
"Yet you're not telling me to go..."
A soft, tender groan slips him as burning hot lips caress his neck. He lets the still-standing time pull him back into the fateful night, back to the forbidden touches. Back to the lack of emotion as the slightly older male gently pushes up the black satin shirt.
He hated the house. It was his mother's parents, but had been given to their oldest daughter when she had married his father. His mother was beautiful, but sorrow resided in her, and while dressing up and wearing a fine mask every day Yejun knew she was sad, always so sad. She shed tears when she thought no-one else was looking, and he didn't understand why, but never spoke of it to anyone. His father was a powerful man pulling the strings and operating moneymaking businesses, and wasn't home too often, but when he was he treated the house like a business as well. Upbringing was a chore to him, something he left to nurses and maids, but he made sure Yejun knew the exchange rates, the keys to controlling people, taught him to keep a steady face.
And while his father didn't notice Yejun learned how he hated people, how all he wanted was to be left alone.
Then his father's brother died, and the family discovered the unwanted offspring, a bastard some woman had given birth to under the rose and left to his uncle to take care of. No-one else wanted the boy, but Yejun's mother who hardly spoke those days stood up at the family meeting and said, "Kan will come with us."
"I control your mind", murmurs the voice to his ear. Yejun bites his lip softly. "You're mine... All mine."
Untouched. He wished to remain untouched, alone, in his own peace and quiet while his mother enjoyed Kan's company and his father was off to work every day. Kan behaved so well, so outstandingly, and Yejun's mother liked the polite speech and the smooth words. She took him out to the city, she bought him fine clothes, she treated him well, and she stopped asking Yejun to come, at all. She forgot to buy him a new shirt, his shoes were Kan's hand-me-downs.
But it was all fine. Yejun didn't mind. He enjoyed sunlight on the back yard. He enjoyed the silence of his room. The smoothness of his bed, the silken linen, the books in the library. He enjoyed the worn bathrobes, slightly cold tea, and every day he was left alone with the maids as his parents and adopted brother were out. He loved it. He was alone. He was untouched.
Then, his father's mother passed away.
"Yejun", his father said from the doorway, immense sorrow in his voice. Yejun looked at him, set the book down on the table. His father looked worn out, tired, like life had slipped him. It was the first time he had seen this. "Grandmother is gone."
He'd liked to say something like, "Oh?" and dismiss it. But he knew that was out of the question. Despite being cool with people, despite wanting his silence more than anything else, Yejun knew that was plain rude. Therefore, he nodded quietly, stood up, and made his way to his father, who, for the first time since his childhood gently embraced him.
"You've grown up so fast", the man holding him said quietly. "Just now you were only a boy... You're becoming a man. Soon you'll be on your way with someone and will put up a family of your own."
Where-ever the words came from they were genuine, and Yejun didn't say anything to interrupt. His father sighed, put the mask back on, stepped away. "We're arranging the funeral to be held next week. I'll tell your mother to get you some proper clothes for that. You can not attend looking like that."
"I understand."
He watched his father disappear down the corridor. The strange warmth of the embrace remained for a moment longer until it was gone, too.
"You're mine", murmurs the smooth, slick voice into his ear.
He withdrew into his room, again, but the next day was busy, filled with noise he disliked. After a long time in his own peace and quiet such noise was overwhelming, painful. His mother left the house early with a maid, and returned late with relatives. The dining hall was taken over by mourning people trying to keep their acts together while making plans and calls, choosing decorations and foods.
Yejun sat reading in his room when a knock resounded on the door. Not averting his eyes he listened to the door being pulled open, then being closed, the steps resounding on the carpet. "What are you reading?"
Kan's hand on his table, next to his arm, Yejun finally looked up a little. He was surprised to find the older male so close, partly behind him, partly by his side. "World history", he answered quietly.
"Boring", the other breathed out, something sweet in his scent, but Yejun couldn't tell what, exactly. He shrugged a shoulder, turned back to the book. Kan wouldn't move away.
"Mom's busy today", the older one said, then. "Dad is busy, too, but you know that."
"It's all right", answered Yejun, wishing to dismiss the topic, wishing for the other to be on his way.
"But it's boring", Kan hummed. "It's boring when mom is busy..."
The younger one turned to look at the other, slightly confused. He didn't understand the tone, the voice, the note in the words. They were not empty words like those usually exchanged in this house. "What do you mean?"
"I mean what I said. I'm bored when mom's busy."
"Busy with something else, you mean?"
"Yeah. Bored with something else than me."
The strong, lean arm wrapped around his body, tugging him up from the chair. Confused, Yejun wasn't sure what to do, letting the older male pull him. Only as the ever so slightly taller boy pushed his slender frame onto the silken linen Yejun caught hold of the other's wrists in order to push the force back. "What are you doing?"
"I'm bored. I want to have fun. And you're never doing anything."
"Well, I'm not bored..."
"All by yourself?"
"Yes."
Kan pressed him back, the thin figure being forced onto the bed. "You're so silly, Jun. But I kind of like that..."
He caught the younger male's ankle into a tight grip as Yejun attempted to crawl back and off the bed, pulling him back, leaning over him, watching the black haired boy escape deeper into the linen. "Are you afraid...?"
"No." But his heart was beating so fast, blood was rushing in his head, making him dizzy and confused. As the hasty slender fingers pushed back the satin shirt he attempted to cry out - but the older was a step ahead of him, pressing his other hand onto the pink lips.
"Shhhh. Don't scream. This is just a game, I'm not going to hurt you."
All he wished was to be alone. All he wanted was to remain untouched by people.
"Didn't you ever think why mom became so happy when I came to live here?" the taller boy asks as he presses Yejun down, holds his wrists, kisses the pale neck roughly. "Didn't you ever wonder what changed her so?"
There's panic in the doe eyes as Yejun wiggles under Kan's weight, tries to escape the touches, the hands, lips. No, he'd never really considered it, but now as Kan lays it in front of him... The sorrow he'd seen disappear from his mother, and the sorrow and lack of life in his father he'd witnessed. Did his father know, was he always aware of the games being played behind his back? Had he decided to ignore the young lover his mother had so easily smuggled into the house, because she was happy, lively again? Had he chosen work over his family because he couldn't bear the sight of the unwanted boy he'd accepted under his wing play with his beloved flower like that?
And why hadn't Yejun thought of it?
He felt regret, remorse; he hoped he could have turned back time, to oppose the decision, or at least do something about it. But then, as the burning kisses hurt his heart and his pride, he came to realize, hadn't he gained what he'd wished because of the older boy holding him still and ripping off his clothes?
But this - he didn't want this. The slender male whimpered, cries muffling into kisses and the palm on his lips. Pain he'd never felt, pain he'd never thought existed. The taller boy in control of his body, of his moves, of his positions. And he found it easier to surrender. Exhausted, wishing he was elsewhere, blood rushing in his head. The cries died before reaching his lips. Even if he had cried out, no-one would have heard over the thick sorrow of the mansion.
"You're mine", the other cooed into his ear before leaving.
And every day his mother was busy with the arrangements, phone calls, coming and going. And every day his mother was busy, Kan was bored.
And so, fear died within him. Yejun didn't bother going to the library. He hardly bothered eating. He knew when the relatives would arrive the noise would fill the house, and no-one would pay mind to the unrelated brothers.
The pain was replaced by numbness. Fear was replaced with silence. Peace was stirred up into a storm of anger, a flame that burnt the silence.
"I want to be alone", he whispered to the moon on the night of the funeral. The ceremony had left him with no emotion, either. His body was void, used, spent. The black haired boy pressed his palms on the cold glass, wishing he could disappear altogether. The noise had filled the house. It was only a matter of time.
Dressed into a neat pair of black trousers, a black satin shirt and a neat, short jacket on top, decorated with a black rose in the chest pocket, the slender boy roamed the corridors, past the paintings hung on the walls, to the top of the staircase. The air was filled with the sorrow and cries. His father and his uncle discussing heritage money. His mother telling his father off.
"Why aren't you there with them? Why won't you go see them?"
"I want to be alone", he murmurs.
The arm around him, the fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. "Yet you're not telling me to go..."
He escaped the touches by stepping down. The long fingers caught his wrist, holding him still, stopping him from going. "You won't be alone there."
"I won't be alone anywhere in this house", he whispered.
"Are you leaving? You can't leave, not now. Mom will want time alone... She'll be busy comforting dad..."
His hand caught the taller male's neck.
With a single, simple tug, with strength he'd never known, the black haired male threw the older boy down the long run of stairs. The body hitting the floor. Kan crawled on his fours, growled with pain from the long fall. Yejun walked down the stairs calmly, coolly, picking a letter knife from the phone table by the end of the stairs.
"Jun, what..."
Blood. Blood on his clothes, on the floor. The cut throat, flesh, the eyes filled with what could be fear before the light went out.
The scream of his female cousin who has just opened the dining hall door.
The mansion is filled with the screams and cries, the sound of their bodies hitting the walls, staining the carpets. The meaningless pieces of flesh. His eyes still closed Yejun listens to the apocalypse. His body hurts with the pain he felt that night, the burn, hell breaking loose within him. He feels the hot blood on his hands just like that night.
He walked through the dining hall, abandoning the blunt bloody knife at some point. His anger, his hunger growing in perfect silence his hands crushed bone, pierced flesh, his fingers ripped hearts out through their breathless chests. Blood splatter on his face his emotionless, cool eyes turned to his mother who had crouched into the corner of the hall.
"Yejun..."
"Mother", he whispered, stopping in front of her, holding an arm he'd pulled off one of the girls in one hand. Blood dripped on the carpet from the cut veins. "All I wanted was to be left alone..."
She screamed as his father lunged at him from under the long table, over the bleeding body of one of the female cousins, strong hands catching him, fingers neatly wrapping around his neck from behind. The man yelled, tried to gush air out of him, but Yejun pulled himself free with unnatural ease he didn't consider odd at all, anymore. He turned to look at his father over his shoulder, and silently, without a word, without an apology, with a single blow ripped his throat open.
The blood that he shared stained his face as his father remained standing up for a moment before collapsing on the floor. His eyes, filled with fear, stared at his mother, who had also fallen silent as pure terror had sucked all voice from her.
His father's blood in his hands, Yejun turned once again to his mother, watching her quietly. The moans and screams died around them slowly.
Finally, she whispered, "What have you become...? Yejun..."
"Don't be afraid", he murmured, repeating the words that echoed in his mind so clear. The husky voice that had taught him pain. The touches that made his heart frozen cold. It was all her fault, in the end. She'd taken him. She'd accepted him. She'd turned a blind eye... "This is just a game. I won't hurt you."
She shook her head a little, rapidly, trembling as he knelt in front of her. Leaning to place a gentle kiss on her forehead, blood of his relatives staining her porcelain skin he had inherited he pulled her off the protective walls into an embrace.
Her spine crumbled in his fingers as he reaped the ivory bone from her fragile body.
She fell limp, lifeless in his blooded arms just like the mansion had fallen silent.
The moon watched over without emotion. The clock on the entrance hall wall chimed. Midnight had passed, the world had ended here.
The mansion reeks again as he opens his eyes. It's dim, only the chandelier lighting up the entrance hall at the root of the staircase. The body of the older boy lies lifeless at the center of the hall, with his eyes open, mutilated. Just like Yejun felt each touch was cutting his flesh and his soul.
Murderer, scream the shadows, the curtains, the walls. He sits down on the stairs in his blood stained funeral clothes. Trapped into his own silence, his own loneliness for eternity. Devil, they cry, you disgrace.
All he wishes is to turn back time.
No matter how high the price.
Chapter: oneshot
Author: rookie_cherii
Band/Pairing: F.Cuz; Kan x Yejun
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: gore, (non-graphic) rape, character death I forgot about
Summary: All Yejun wished was to be left alone, untouched by people. But wishes always come with a price to be paid.
Comments: Uh. In the meanwhile, I sought inspiration from my secondary passion that is Korean boy bands, and this came to be after operating in sleep deprivation for a while. I quite like writing gore and Yejun, sadly I don't really get ideas including both too often. (Also, I didn't mean this as a songfic despite the obvious connection. w)
Disclaimer: I wish. :c
His pale hands reflect the bold white moon illuminating the rainy night. Glass stops him from reaching out to it. Chained doors. Locked doors. Barred windows, blocked windows, it's a world of its own, a world completely dedicated to him. Everything here is his for that fleeting moment that is forever. The forever he's trapped in against his own will.
How long will the blood reek? How long will he have to look at the slaughter that's taken place so long ago?
Is this the price a murderer must pay?
Black hair neatly cut to shade his eyes, Yejun gazes at the stars adrift in the sky. They must be laughing at him as they look down upon this place. He's long forgotten how clean air carries the scent of flowery moors, how laughter sounds like when it echos in the valley. How long has it been? Time has halted. The clocks have stopped. Here, days don't change, seasons won't reach him. The glass blocks his way. The moon will eventually shift, sun will replace it. Stars will fade, clouds will block the blue sky. Rain falls. But none of it reaches him, no matter how hard he presses against the cold window.
Solemnity. He wished to be alone; he wished to remain untouched by people. He wished he could be the only one here.
And the only one who heard that wish had to be the devil, no-one else.
Murderer! Murderer, scream the walls and the curtains, the paintings on the walls. They stare at him as he passes, although when he looks at them they pretend not to have noticed his presence. The house has agreed to be his guardian, his prison, it has agreed to keep outsiders away so that his wish will be properly granted. So that he can be alone.
He knows midnight in his heart. It's come, the moon is at its highest. Elsewhere, somewhere far away, people must be sleeping peacefully with their beloved ones. He does not know much about the world, anymore; it must have changed a great deal since then, but he's sure it hasn't stopped elsewhere. No, he's certain was there a way to get out of this silence there would be a whole world out there, with people, animals, songs, laughter...
He hears the age-old memories play like old, rusty records. The dining hall bustling with speech as his father argues with his uncle over the currency rates and how they affect their shares of the heritage money. His mother tells him off with a broken voice. "Not today! Not on the day!"
Yejun stops at the top of the stairs, listens to the rattling sounds. The house is as if it was alive again although the blood has stained the walls, although the twisted bodies lie in place in the carpets, tables, stairs, corridors. He closes his eyes, imagines they're all there in the hall. His aunts cry loudly over the clatter of utensils and plates. His uncle suggests a proper speech, his oldest cousin clings a spoon against his glass. He must be standing up as he speaks gracefully about their grandmother who is no more.
None of them are no more. But Yejun pretends for a minute that the reek is gone and that all in the musky air of the mansion is the scent of sorrow, not that of blood and flesh.
"Why aren't you there with them?" asks the familiar voice from behind him. His eyes are closed, and he can feel the presence of the slender male, the warm body right behind him. A cold shudder runs through his frame as the fingers smoothly run across his jawbone and down the side of his neck. The boy tilts his head back a little, breathes quietly past slightly parted lips. His hair slips off his forehead. An arm wraps around his waist, and he lets himself be pulled into the slightly rough embrace. "Why won't you go see them...?"
"I want to be alone", he murmurs, just like that night.
"Yet you're not telling me to go..."
A soft, tender groan slips him as burning hot lips caress his neck. He lets the still-standing time pull him back into the fateful night, back to the forbidden touches. Back to the lack of emotion as the slightly older male gently pushes up the black satin shirt.
He hated the house. It was his mother's parents, but had been given to their oldest daughter when she had married his father. His mother was beautiful, but sorrow resided in her, and while dressing up and wearing a fine mask every day Yejun knew she was sad, always so sad. She shed tears when she thought no-one else was looking, and he didn't understand why, but never spoke of it to anyone. His father was a powerful man pulling the strings and operating moneymaking businesses, and wasn't home too often, but when he was he treated the house like a business as well. Upbringing was a chore to him, something he left to nurses and maids, but he made sure Yejun knew the exchange rates, the keys to controlling people, taught him to keep a steady face.
And while his father didn't notice Yejun learned how he hated people, how all he wanted was to be left alone.
Then his father's brother died, and the family discovered the unwanted offspring, a bastard some woman had given birth to under the rose and left to his uncle to take care of. No-one else wanted the boy, but Yejun's mother who hardly spoke those days stood up at the family meeting and said, "Kan will come with us."
"I control your mind", murmurs the voice to his ear. Yejun bites his lip softly. "You're mine... All mine."
Untouched. He wished to remain untouched, alone, in his own peace and quiet while his mother enjoyed Kan's company and his father was off to work every day. Kan behaved so well, so outstandingly, and Yejun's mother liked the polite speech and the smooth words. She took him out to the city, she bought him fine clothes, she treated him well, and she stopped asking Yejun to come, at all. She forgot to buy him a new shirt, his shoes were Kan's hand-me-downs.
But it was all fine. Yejun didn't mind. He enjoyed sunlight on the back yard. He enjoyed the silence of his room. The smoothness of his bed, the silken linen, the books in the library. He enjoyed the worn bathrobes, slightly cold tea, and every day he was left alone with the maids as his parents and adopted brother were out. He loved it. He was alone. He was untouched.
Then, his father's mother passed away.
"Yejun", his father said from the doorway, immense sorrow in his voice. Yejun looked at him, set the book down on the table. His father looked worn out, tired, like life had slipped him. It was the first time he had seen this. "Grandmother is gone."
He'd liked to say something like, "Oh?" and dismiss it. But he knew that was out of the question. Despite being cool with people, despite wanting his silence more than anything else, Yejun knew that was plain rude. Therefore, he nodded quietly, stood up, and made his way to his father, who, for the first time since his childhood gently embraced him.
"You've grown up so fast", the man holding him said quietly. "Just now you were only a boy... You're becoming a man. Soon you'll be on your way with someone and will put up a family of your own."
Where-ever the words came from they were genuine, and Yejun didn't say anything to interrupt. His father sighed, put the mask back on, stepped away. "We're arranging the funeral to be held next week. I'll tell your mother to get you some proper clothes for that. You can not attend looking like that."
"I understand."
He watched his father disappear down the corridor. The strange warmth of the embrace remained for a moment longer until it was gone, too.
"You're mine", murmurs the smooth, slick voice into his ear.
He withdrew into his room, again, but the next day was busy, filled with noise he disliked. After a long time in his own peace and quiet such noise was overwhelming, painful. His mother left the house early with a maid, and returned late with relatives. The dining hall was taken over by mourning people trying to keep their acts together while making plans and calls, choosing decorations and foods.
Yejun sat reading in his room when a knock resounded on the door. Not averting his eyes he listened to the door being pulled open, then being closed, the steps resounding on the carpet. "What are you reading?"
Kan's hand on his table, next to his arm, Yejun finally looked up a little. He was surprised to find the older male so close, partly behind him, partly by his side. "World history", he answered quietly.
"Boring", the other breathed out, something sweet in his scent, but Yejun couldn't tell what, exactly. He shrugged a shoulder, turned back to the book. Kan wouldn't move away.
"Mom's busy today", the older one said, then. "Dad is busy, too, but you know that."
"It's all right", answered Yejun, wishing to dismiss the topic, wishing for the other to be on his way.
"But it's boring", Kan hummed. "It's boring when mom is busy..."
The younger one turned to look at the other, slightly confused. He didn't understand the tone, the voice, the note in the words. They were not empty words like those usually exchanged in this house. "What do you mean?"
"I mean what I said. I'm bored when mom's busy."
"Busy with something else, you mean?"
"Yeah. Bored with something else than me."
The strong, lean arm wrapped around his body, tugging him up from the chair. Confused, Yejun wasn't sure what to do, letting the older male pull him. Only as the ever so slightly taller boy pushed his slender frame onto the silken linen Yejun caught hold of the other's wrists in order to push the force back. "What are you doing?"
"I'm bored. I want to have fun. And you're never doing anything."
"Well, I'm not bored..."
"All by yourself?"
"Yes."
Kan pressed him back, the thin figure being forced onto the bed. "You're so silly, Jun. But I kind of like that..."
He caught the younger male's ankle into a tight grip as Yejun attempted to crawl back and off the bed, pulling him back, leaning over him, watching the black haired boy escape deeper into the linen. "Are you afraid...?"
"No." But his heart was beating so fast, blood was rushing in his head, making him dizzy and confused. As the hasty slender fingers pushed back the satin shirt he attempted to cry out - but the older was a step ahead of him, pressing his other hand onto the pink lips.
"Shhhh. Don't scream. This is just a game, I'm not going to hurt you."
All he wished was to be alone. All he wanted was to remain untouched by people.
"Didn't you ever think why mom became so happy when I came to live here?" the taller boy asks as he presses Yejun down, holds his wrists, kisses the pale neck roughly. "Didn't you ever wonder what changed her so?"
There's panic in the doe eyes as Yejun wiggles under Kan's weight, tries to escape the touches, the hands, lips. No, he'd never really considered it, but now as Kan lays it in front of him... The sorrow he'd seen disappear from his mother, and the sorrow and lack of life in his father he'd witnessed. Did his father know, was he always aware of the games being played behind his back? Had he decided to ignore the young lover his mother had so easily smuggled into the house, because she was happy, lively again? Had he chosen work over his family because he couldn't bear the sight of the unwanted boy he'd accepted under his wing play with his beloved flower like that?
And why hadn't Yejun thought of it?
He felt regret, remorse; he hoped he could have turned back time, to oppose the decision, or at least do something about it. But then, as the burning kisses hurt his heart and his pride, he came to realize, hadn't he gained what he'd wished because of the older boy holding him still and ripping off his clothes?
But this - he didn't want this. The slender male whimpered, cries muffling into kisses and the palm on his lips. Pain he'd never felt, pain he'd never thought existed. The taller boy in control of his body, of his moves, of his positions. And he found it easier to surrender. Exhausted, wishing he was elsewhere, blood rushing in his head. The cries died before reaching his lips. Even if he had cried out, no-one would have heard over the thick sorrow of the mansion.
"You're mine", the other cooed into his ear before leaving.
And every day his mother was busy with the arrangements, phone calls, coming and going. And every day his mother was busy, Kan was bored.
And so, fear died within him. Yejun didn't bother going to the library. He hardly bothered eating. He knew when the relatives would arrive the noise would fill the house, and no-one would pay mind to the unrelated brothers.
The pain was replaced by numbness. Fear was replaced with silence. Peace was stirred up into a storm of anger, a flame that burnt the silence.
"I want to be alone", he whispered to the moon on the night of the funeral. The ceremony had left him with no emotion, either. His body was void, used, spent. The black haired boy pressed his palms on the cold glass, wishing he could disappear altogether. The noise had filled the house. It was only a matter of time.
Dressed into a neat pair of black trousers, a black satin shirt and a neat, short jacket on top, decorated with a black rose in the chest pocket, the slender boy roamed the corridors, past the paintings hung on the walls, to the top of the staircase. The air was filled with the sorrow and cries. His father and his uncle discussing heritage money. His mother telling his father off.
"Why aren't you there with them? Why won't you go see them?"
"I want to be alone", he murmurs.
The arm around him, the fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. "Yet you're not telling me to go..."
He escaped the touches by stepping down. The long fingers caught his wrist, holding him still, stopping him from going. "You won't be alone there."
"I won't be alone anywhere in this house", he whispered.
"Are you leaving? You can't leave, not now. Mom will want time alone... She'll be busy comforting dad..."
His hand caught the taller male's neck.
With a single, simple tug, with strength he'd never known, the black haired male threw the older boy down the long run of stairs. The body hitting the floor. Kan crawled on his fours, growled with pain from the long fall. Yejun walked down the stairs calmly, coolly, picking a letter knife from the phone table by the end of the stairs.
"Jun, what..."
Blood. Blood on his clothes, on the floor. The cut throat, flesh, the eyes filled with what could be fear before the light went out.
The scream of his female cousin who has just opened the dining hall door.
The mansion is filled with the screams and cries, the sound of their bodies hitting the walls, staining the carpets. The meaningless pieces of flesh. His eyes still closed Yejun listens to the apocalypse. His body hurts with the pain he felt that night, the burn, hell breaking loose within him. He feels the hot blood on his hands just like that night.
He walked through the dining hall, abandoning the blunt bloody knife at some point. His anger, his hunger growing in perfect silence his hands crushed bone, pierced flesh, his fingers ripped hearts out through their breathless chests. Blood splatter on his face his emotionless, cool eyes turned to his mother who had crouched into the corner of the hall.
"Yejun..."
"Mother", he whispered, stopping in front of her, holding an arm he'd pulled off one of the girls in one hand. Blood dripped on the carpet from the cut veins. "All I wanted was to be left alone..."
She screamed as his father lunged at him from under the long table, over the bleeding body of one of the female cousins, strong hands catching him, fingers neatly wrapping around his neck from behind. The man yelled, tried to gush air out of him, but Yejun pulled himself free with unnatural ease he didn't consider odd at all, anymore. He turned to look at his father over his shoulder, and silently, without a word, without an apology, with a single blow ripped his throat open.
The blood that he shared stained his face as his father remained standing up for a moment before collapsing on the floor. His eyes, filled with fear, stared at his mother, who had also fallen silent as pure terror had sucked all voice from her.
His father's blood in his hands, Yejun turned once again to his mother, watching her quietly. The moans and screams died around them slowly.
Finally, she whispered, "What have you become...? Yejun..."
"Don't be afraid", he murmured, repeating the words that echoed in his mind so clear. The husky voice that had taught him pain. The touches that made his heart frozen cold. It was all her fault, in the end. She'd taken him. She'd accepted him. She'd turned a blind eye... "This is just a game. I won't hurt you."
She shook her head a little, rapidly, trembling as he knelt in front of her. Leaning to place a gentle kiss on her forehead, blood of his relatives staining her porcelain skin he had inherited he pulled her off the protective walls into an embrace.
Her spine crumbled in his fingers as he reaped the ivory bone from her fragile body.
She fell limp, lifeless in his blooded arms just like the mansion had fallen silent.
The moon watched over without emotion. The clock on the entrance hall wall chimed. Midnight had passed, the world had ended here.
The mansion reeks again as he opens his eyes. It's dim, only the chandelier lighting up the entrance hall at the root of the staircase. The body of the older boy lies lifeless at the center of the hall, with his eyes open, mutilated. Just like Yejun felt each touch was cutting his flesh and his soul.
Murderer, scream the shadows, the curtains, the walls. He sits down on the stairs in his blood stained funeral clothes. Trapped into his own silence, his own loneliness for eternity. Devil, they cry, you disgrace.
All he wishes is to turn back time.
No matter how high the price.