jagged little pill
fandom: got7
focus: yugyeom-centric
rating: r
warnings: rape, drugs, Skeevy Rich Guys (TM)
notes: title from the alanis morrissette song, just because i couldn't think of a better one. cut text from a jack johnson song
gift was-meant-to-be-a-drabble for symmetrophobic, inspired by her fic peripheral (contains kind of spoilers, and is very much linked to the fic, so reading it first is advised. also it's really good so there's that.) because it wouldn't leave my head.
i don't think i achieved what i set out to do, and it turned out a bit iffy i think, but i hope you're satisfied with it! (and again, sorry about the liberties i took)
yugyeom's nineteen, nineteen and studying for appearance's sake, because jaebum's right and ready to give him a job, just because he can. just because he knows yugyeom won't be able to say no.
and yugyeom will take the job, because he refuses to be poor, and this is the best was to not be, and he's determined to work hard (and then maybe jaebum will respect him. he doubts it, but he thinks it is possible).
so yugyeom's nineteen, and he's charming at jaebum's side at social functions, greeting jinyoung as he attached himself to jaebum's side, laughing at jackson's loud jokes, nodding politely at mark's general silence. yugyeom's nineteen and mark starts a light conversation, which he reciprocates with the appropriate amount of shy admiration.
mark glances around him with mild distaste after a while and asks yugyeom if he has a room, because it's really noisy down there and it's starting to annoy him.
yugyeom is nineteen and he sees an opportunity to make a powerful friend, so he takes it and says yes, he does have a room, courtesy of jaebum, and wouldn't mark like to join him for a drink? to continue their conversation in a quieter venue.
mark comments on one of the pictures hanging on the wall when yugyeom gets them drinks in the peace of his suite, and when yugyeom looks back mark has his own glass at his lips and yugyeom gives a small smile, not quite sure what mark saw in the picture.
mark talks in his quiet voice about nothing in particular, so yugyeom keeps sipping at his drink.
he thinks maybe he's had too much too fast on a mostly empty stomach when his head starts to spin and mark's words slip out of focus.
'are you okay?' mark asks and yugyeom tries to answer but when his tongue feels too big for his mouth and his words won't come out properly and he sees a smile quirk mark's lips, something clicks and then he's trying to object as mark puts his glass down and moves over, tries to push him away when he presses his lips to yugyeom's neck, but his limbs won't work properly and he has a sick lump in the pit of his stomach as mark's fingers trail lightly over his short buttons before popping them open, all the way down until he's undoing yugyeom's belt and all yugyeom can do is try to protest.
(yugyeom's nineteen and has minimal sexual experience, preferring to focus on bettering himself than romantic endeavours. yugyeom's nineteen and has the heart of a hopeless romantic, one he ignores as much as possible because it's not the right time for him. yugyeom's nineteen and numb, drifting in and out but present. yugyeom's nineteen and welcoming the blackness as it envelopes him before it's over, because he doesn't want to be there any more.)
he wakes up the next morning exactly where he'd been the night before, on the couch, naked except for his unbuttoned shirt. he's woozy, feels sticky, and when he tries to move, a sharp pain shoots up his spine, and he becomes aware of a dull ache in his lower back, and he feels the bile rising in his throat.
pain and unstable legs conspire against him in his attempt to make it to the bathroom and he falls hard on his knees, giving up and emptying what little he has in his stomach into a potted peace lily a meter away from the couch.
he draws his knees up to his chest when he's done throwing up, hugging them, trembling, and he wants to cry but the only thing flashing in his mind is mark's fingers on his skin, his lips on his neck, and he's scrambling up, leaning on the wall for support as he heads to the bathroom, shedding his shirt as he goes, already wiping at himself as he reaches for the shower tap, turning it as hot as he can stand, scrubbing at himself until his skin stung, needing to get all remnants from the night before off.
he lathers himself with soap and scrubs, rinses it off, and repeats the cycle, and again, and again, then then he just stands in the shower, a small part of his mind thankful for endless hot water as it mixes with the tears running down his cheeks as he leans against the shower wall with his hands, the water beating down on his back, exhausted.
exhausted and angry, because he feels like he should have seen it coming, he shouldn't have been so trusting, he knows what these people are like, how could he be so stupid- but then there's another part of his mind that says no, there was no indication, it wasn't his fault and that's the part that breaks him, that takes the fight out of him, that makes him want the water to keep rising until it swallows him whole, because he's living in a world where this doesn't surprise him, and that sickens him almost as much as it actually happening to him.
(and all he can do is wonder why, why when there was no indication, why these people felt the need to just take, why they were so averse to asking.)
(what yugyeom doesn't hear:
'told you i could sleep with him,' mark tells jackson off handedly, 'pay up.'
'are you serious?' jackson says, disbelieving, 'shit, man, yugyeom turned me down completely. polite as all hell, but said he wasn't interested.'
mark laughs. 'evidently he's got as much of a weakness for a pretty face as you do. what did you say you'd give me again? the maserati, was it?'
'fine,' jackson grumbles 'come and claim it this weekend or something.'
'much obliged,' mark says amiably. 'i know i could buy one new, but winning it off you is so much more satisfying.' jackson shakes his head despairingly.
'one day, mark tuan, i will find someone you won't be able to charm the pants off of. mark my words.')
'hyung.' yugyeom's voice is quavery and he hates it, but he can't keep the tremble out of his voice, can't stop wanting to cry every time he thinks of what happened, and jaebum could help, jaebum would help, he was his cousin, surely he'd do something, feel something something.
jaebum looks over with casual nonchalance. 'oh, yugyeom, hey.'
'hyung, i-' yugyeom breaks off.
'is something the matter?' jaebum says, brow furrowed slightly.
the words won't come out just yet, but yugyeom nods and the look on jaebum's face shifts into something resemblance impatience.
'well, spit it out, i don't have all day.'
'it's mark,' yugyeom blurts out, 'he- i- he came up to my room for a drink-'
'i was wondering where you two had gone,' jaebum comments and yugyeom knows it was a careless comment, because he'd maybe noticed in passing they were missing at most.
'hyung, he-' yugyeom couldn't bring himself to say the word. 'he- we- he had sex with me.'
jaebum arches an eyebrow. 'good for you,' he remarks dryly, and yugyeom almost gapes.
'no, hyung, i didn't want to,' he says, as if it'll make jaebum realise what had happened.
jaebum shrugs. 'do you expect me to do something about it?' with a sinking heart, yugyeom recognises the sarcasm in his voice. 'mark's an important business partner.'
'hyung, he put something in my drink-' yugyeom tries in a last-ditch effort and jaebum laughs.
'you invited him up to your room, what did you think would happen?' a look of scorn crosses jaebum's face, and his next words are mocking. 'what, were you saving it for someone special?' he gives a derisive snort. 'grow up, yugyeom. you're in the real world now.' he glances at his watch while yugyeom's trying to catch his breath. 'i'm meeting jinyoung.'
he walks to the door with long strides and yugyeom supposes he should be slightly comforted by his pause next to him.
'if it upsets you so much, just don't think about it,' is jaebum's sage advice and yugyeom almost laughs as the bile threatens to rise in his throat again, and he allows jaebum to usher him out none-too-gently the door, feeling numb.
and then he's back in his room, feeling cold and detached and more alone than he's ever felt (which isn't saying much, he realises).
he doesn't move all day, he just lies in bed and thinks that he really should be doing something, even if he can't actually bring himself to do anything.
was it his fault? was he naive for thinking nothing would happen? was he stupid for not noticing any warning signs? were there any warning signs?
he turned over and buried his face in his pillow when the questions got too much for his head, when the sick lump in his stomach hardened further into weighted lead, and he dug his fingers into the bedsheets, screaming his throat raw into the pillow even as he ignored the tears dampening the case.
(it wasn't his fault, he decides months later, after shrinking away from any touch back at university, tampering down on human interaction, it wasn't his fault. he'd done nothing to warrant it, it isn't his fault someone had abused their power and his trust, and he feels like he could breath a little easier with the realisation; it wasn't his fault. and maybe that's the breakthrough he needs to be able to get through it all)
the next time he sees mark there's no fanfare, no recognition of what had happened the last time they'd met. mark gives no sign anything had happened, acting no differently to all the other times he's met him (and maybe what happened was just such an insignificant blip on his radar that he doesn't pay it any more mind. yugyeom almost envies him for his disregard.).
on his part, yugyeom holds his head high, his back straight, his resolve firm, even if he wants to flinch away from him. he won't allow himself to have this weakness, because he knows mark won't go away. jaebum doesn't care (never did) and yugyeom's come to terms with this. something in side of him has hardened and he schools his face to let it never show, buries everything inside of him, because what good will letting any of it show do?
(people don't want drama and problems, people want congeniality, and flattery, and compliance, and the chance to show off, and yugyeom's quick to realise that once he gives them that, he'll have everything he wants. so he does so with a smile, following behind jaebum because it's the easiest path to take, and hopes on quiet nights that he's not chipping away at himself in the process.)
yugyeom is twenty and a wholly different person to who he was at nineteen, honing his skills and smile to a flawless expression. yugyeom's twenty and a little colder, a little harder, a little more detached. a little more easy with his smiles, a little less easy with his trust. a little more charming, a little more proper, a little more disgusted, a little more perceptive, and a whole lot more careful.
(but whatever he does, he will never give mark credit for influencing anything that he is.)
focus: yugyeom-centric
rating: r
warnings: rape, drugs, Skeevy Rich Guys (TM)
notes: title from the alanis morrissette song, just because i couldn't think of a better one. cut text from a jack johnson song
gift was-meant-to-be-a-drabble for symmetrophobic, inspired by her fic peripheral (contains kind of spoilers, and is very much linked to the fic, so reading it first is advised. also it's really good so there's that.) because it wouldn't leave my head.
i don't think i achieved what i set out to do, and it turned out a bit iffy i think, but i hope you're satisfied with it! (and again, sorry about the liberties i took)
yugyeom's nineteen, nineteen and studying for appearance's sake, because jaebum's right and ready to give him a job, just because he can. just because he knows yugyeom won't be able to say no.
and yugyeom will take the job, because he refuses to be poor, and this is the best was to not be, and he's determined to work hard (and then maybe jaebum will respect him. he doubts it, but he thinks it is possible).
so yugyeom's nineteen, and he's charming at jaebum's side at social functions, greeting jinyoung as he attached himself to jaebum's side, laughing at jackson's loud jokes, nodding politely at mark's general silence. yugyeom's nineteen and mark starts a light conversation, which he reciprocates with the appropriate amount of shy admiration.
mark glances around him with mild distaste after a while and asks yugyeom if he has a room, because it's really noisy down there and it's starting to annoy him.
yugyeom is nineteen and he sees an opportunity to make a powerful friend, so he takes it and says yes, he does have a room, courtesy of jaebum, and wouldn't mark like to join him for a drink? to continue their conversation in a quieter venue.
mark comments on one of the pictures hanging on the wall when yugyeom gets them drinks in the peace of his suite, and when yugyeom looks back mark has his own glass at his lips and yugyeom gives a small smile, not quite sure what mark saw in the picture.
mark talks in his quiet voice about nothing in particular, so yugyeom keeps sipping at his drink.
he thinks maybe he's had too much too fast on a mostly empty stomach when his head starts to spin and mark's words slip out of focus.
'are you okay?' mark asks and yugyeom tries to answer but when his tongue feels too big for his mouth and his words won't come out properly and he sees a smile quirk mark's lips, something clicks and then he's trying to object as mark puts his glass down and moves over, tries to push him away when he presses his lips to yugyeom's neck, but his limbs won't work properly and he has a sick lump in the pit of his stomach as mark's fingers trail lightly over his short buttons before popping them open, all the way down until he's undoing yugyeom's belt and all yugyeom can do is try to protest.
(yugyeom's nineteen and has minimal sexual experience, preferring to focus on bettering himself than romantic endeavours. yugyeom's nineteen and has the heart of a hopeless romantic, one he ignores as much as possible because it's not the right time for him. yugyeom's nineteen and numb, drifting in and out but present. yugyeom's nineteen and welcoming the blackness as it envelopes him before it's over, because he doesn't want to be there any more.)
he wakes up the next morning exactly where he'd been the night before, on the couch, naked except for his unbuttoned shirt. he's woozy, feels sticky, and when he tries to move, a sharp pain shoots up his spine, and he becomes aware of a dull ache in his lower back, and he feels the bile rising in his throat.
pain and unstable legs conspire against him in his attempt to make it to the bathroom and he falls hard on his knees, giving up and emptying what little he has in his stomach into a potted peace lily a meter away from the couch.
he draws his knees up to his chest when he's done throwing up, hugging them, trembling, and he wants to cry but the only thing flashing in his mind is mark's fingers on his skin, his lips on his neck, and he's scrambling up, leaning on the wall for support as he heads to the bathroom, shedding his shirt as he goes, already wiping at himself as he reaches for the shower tap, turning it as hot as he can stand, scrubbing at himself until his skin stung, needing to get all remnants from the night before off.
he lathers himself with soap and scrubs, rinses it off, and repeats the cycle, and again, and again, then then he just stands in the shower, a small part of his mind thankful for endless hot water as it mixes with the tears running down his cheeks as he leans against the shower wall with his hands, the water beating down on his back, exhausted.
exhausted and angry, because he feels like he should have seen it coming, he shouldn't have been so trusting, he knows what these people are like, how could he be so stupid- but then there's another part of his mind that says no, there was no indication, it wasn't his fault and that's the part that breaks him, that takes the fight out of him, that makes him want the water to keep rising until it swallows him whole, because he's living in a world where this doesn't surprise him, and that sickens him almost as much as it actually happening to him.
(and all he can do is wonder why, why when there was no indication, why these people felt the need to just take, why they were so averse to asking.)
(what yugyeom doesn't hear:
'told you i could sleep with him,' mark tells jackson off handedly, 'pay up.'
'are you serious?' jackson says, disbelieving, 'shit, man, yugyeom turned me down completely. polite as all hell, but said he wasn't interested.'
mark laughs. 'evidently he's got as much of a weakness for a pretty face as you do. what did you say you'd give me again? the maserati, was it?'
'fine,' jackson grumbles 'come and claim it this weekend or something.'
'much obliged,' mark says amiably. 'i know i could buy one new, but winning it off you is so much more satisfying.' jackson shakes his head despairingly.
'one day, mark tuan, i will find someone you won't be able to charm the pants off of. mark my words.')
'hyung.' yugyeom's voice is quavery and he hates it, but he can't keep the tremble out of his voice, can't stop wanting to cry every time he thinks of what happened, and jaebum could help, jaebum would help, he was his cousin, surely he'd do something, feel something something.
jaebum looks over with casual nonchalance. 'oh, yugyeom, hey.'
'hyung, i-' yugyeom breaks off.
'is something the matter?' jaebum says, brow furrowed slightly.
the words won't come out just yet, but yugyeom nods and the look on jaebum's face shifts into something resemblance impatience.
'well, spit it out, i don't have all day.'
'it's mark,' yugyeom blurts out, 'he- i- he came up to my room for a drink-'
'i was wondering where you two had gone,' jaebum comments and yugyeom knows it was a careless comment, because he'd maybe noticed in passing they were missing at most.
'hyung, he-' yugyeom couldn't bring himself to say the word. 'he- we- he had sex with me.'
jaebum arches an eyebrow. 'good for you,' he remarks dryly, and yugyeom almost gapes.
'no, hyung, i didn't want to,' he says, as if it'll make jaebum realise what had happened.
jaebum shrugs. 'do you expect me to do something about it?' with a sinking heart, yugyeom recognises the sarcasm in his voice. 'mark's an important business partner.'
'hyung, he put something in my drink-' yugyeom tries in a last-ditch effort and jaebum laughs.
'you invited him up to your room, what did you think would happen?' a look of scorn crosses jaebum's face, and his next words are mocking. 'what, were you saving it for someone special?' he gives a derisive snort. 'grow up, yugyeom. you're in the real world now.' he glances at his watch while yugyeom's trying to catch his breath. 'i'm meeting jinyoung.'
he walks to the door with long strides and yugyeom supposes he should be slightly comforted by his pause next to him.
'if it upsets you so much, just don't think about it,' is jaebum's sage advice and yugyeom almost laughs as the bile threatens to rise in his throat again, and he allows jaebum to usher him out none-too-gently the door, feeling numb.
and then he's back in his room, feeling cold and detached and more alone than he's ever felt (which isn't saying much, he realises).
he doesn't move all day, he just lies in bed and thinks that he really should be doing something, even if he can't actually bring himself to do anything.
was it his fault? was he naive for thinking nothing would happen? was he stupid for not noticing any warning signs? were there any warning signs?
he turned over and buried his face in his pillow when the questions got too much for his head, when the sick lump in his stomach hardened further into weighted lead, and he dug his fingers into the bedsheets, screaming his throat raw into the pillow even as he ignored the tears dampening the case.
(it wasn't his fault, he decides months later, after shrinking away from any touch back at university, tampering down on human interaction, it wasn't his fault. he'd done nothing to warrant it, it isn't his fault someone had abused their power and his trust, and he feels like he could breath a little easier with the realisation; it wasn't his fault. and maybe that's the breakthrough he needs to be able to get through it all)
the next time he sees mark there's no fanfare, no recognition of what had happened the last time they'd met. mark gives no sign anything had happened, acting no differently to all the other times he's met him (and maybe what happened was just such an insignificant blip on his radar that he doesn't pay it any more mind. yugyeom almost envies him for his disregard.).
on his part, yugyeom holds his head high, his back straight, his resolve firm, even if he wants to flinch away from him. he won't allow himself to have this weakness, because he knows mark won't go away. jaebum doesn't care (never did) and yugyeom's come to terms with this. something in side of him has hardened and he schools his face to let it never show, buries everything inside of him, because what good will letting any of it show do?
(people don't want drama and problems, people want congeniality, and flattery, and compliance, and the chance to show off, and yugyeom's quick to realise that once he gives them that, he'll have everything he wants. so he does so with a smile, following behind jaebum because it's the easiest path to take, and hopes on quiet nights that he's not chipping away at himself in the process.)
yugyeom is twenty and a wholly different person to who he was at nineteen, honing his skills and smile to a flawless expression. yugyeom's twenty and a little colder, a little harder, a little more detached. a little more easy with his smiles, a little less easy with his trust. a little more charming, a little more proper, a little more disgusted, a little more perceptive, and a whole lot more careful.
(but whatever he does, he will never give mark credit for influencing anything that he is.)