this love will be your downfall | chapter four | 2,081
this love will be your downfall → choi minho/lee taemin; pg-15; minho never thought he could feel this way about his own brother.
warning: incest
a/n: wow. so i actually finished it. i apologize for the wait!
it was hard to bring myself to write this chapter since i've never
actually written something like this before - i won't ruin the surprise
though. thanks for sticking with this story til the very end
and, despite that this chapter didn't turn out exactly the way i wanted it to,
i hope you'll still enjoy and share your thoughts with me.
i'd love to see some comments. :)
"Who are you to make me feel so good?
Who are we to tell ourselves that we're misunderstood?
Oh, who am I to say I'm always yours?
Who am I to choose the boy that everyone adores?
Oh, I don't see a reason why we can't just be apart
We're falling on each other like we're always in the dark
Oh, I don't think you know me much at all, at all..." - This Love Will Be Your Downfall by Ellie Goulding
It had always been inevitable - there were just some things in this world you couldn’t get away with. On some level Taemin must have known that, or he wouldn’t have been sitting here in the numbing cold waiting for a train.
His small hand was shaking where it was clasped tightly in his older brother’s (though he honestly couldn’t say whether or not he was afraid), and when he glanced over at Minho from the corner of his eyes, the fabric of his thick scarf grazing the skin of his cheek where it was coiled around the lower half of his face covering his mouth and the tip of his red nose loosely, the taller boy’s eyes were steely with resolve as they stared out into the gray morning sky.
They weren’t going to run; he’d been told there was only one place for people like them.
--
All Taemin heard was crying. Crying. Crying. Crying. It was making his ears bleed, no- that was his mouth where his teeth had scraped and torn apart the soft pink inner flesh of his cheek when his father had hit him square in the mouth. It’d happened as soon as he’d walked through the door, and he’d heard his older brother curse himself under his breath for not thinking to enter the house first. Minho had sucked in a sharp gasp then from where he stood behind his younger brother, watching their father’s large hand had come down across Taemin’s pretty face, still smudged with makeup, over and over again until the brunette’s lips were no longer red from kisses but rather from the blood that spurted from his mouth as he cried out in pain.
“Stop it! Stop it, you bastard!” Minho screamed, rushing to cover his brother, helpless to do anything but watch him spit crimson onto the floor and bring a hand to his bruising jaw. He used his own body as a shield, back crumpling under the blind fury of his father’s fists, but Minho hardly felt it. All he saw was red, the blood that slowly pooled onto the floor and dripped down his brother’s pointed chin seeming to spread out and cover his vision like a blanket of hot, pulsing rage and his eyes frantically scanned the room, looking for something, anything, to use as a weapon. If he could just stop Taemin from hurting - he’d do anything. His eyes found Taemin’s backpack where it had slid off his shoulder and onto the floor nearby, the pointed edge of a textbook sticking out from a tear in the fabric, near the zipper.
--
“Are you cold?” Minho asked, breath coming out in a chilled cloud of air as a small smile curled his chapped lips. Taemin’s gaze slid to his long, slender neck, tracing the protrusion of his Adams apple down until it flattened out into the beginnings of his chest and disappeared under his heavy black coat. The youth’s brown eyes softened as he brought a hand up to touch the scarves looped around his neck, thick and knit and long; one was more than enough but Minho had insisted Taemin take his as well - you know how red your nose gets.
And yes. Yes, he was cold. He was so cold he thought he might start to freeze in real time, the ice slowly working its way into his oversized boots where they were buried under an inch of snow already, easing its wet tongue between his toes and up his calves, stopping the slow circulation of his blood, the rapid beating of his heart. The brunette was cold as death, but he supposed soon it wouldn’t matter anymore anyway. So instead he put on a brave face and smiled from under the layers of fabric blocking half his face from sight, the only indicator of his half hearted attempted at a grin the way his small eyes squinted up, though any sort of emotion other than a bone chilling sort of resignation didn’t quite reach his eyes.
He squeezed Minho’s hand from where their entwined fingers were stuffed inside the older boy’s pocket.
“I’ll be okay.”
--
“You didn’t have to do that, Hyung.” Taemin said quietly, though the words were slow and muffled, and it was painfully obvious that it took immense effort just for him to move his jaw at all, which had begun to turn a sickening shade of purple. Looking at him made Minho’s chest constrict and ache in ways it never had before and he brought a shaking hand up to caress his younger brother’s soft, round cheek - careful and unbearably light as he swept a thumb just under one of his teary eyes, wiping the water gathering there away. He didn’t regret it.
“Shh, don’t worry about it. One more sin won’t make a difference now.” Minho murmured softly, long fingers moving to smooth down Taemin’s long, silken hair in habit. His eyes found the textbook again, now farther away, the previously sharp edge blunt and stained red. His dark round eyes flickered back to his brother’s face, still pale with terror. Minho couldn’t be sure who scared him more though - him, or his father. “Not where I’m going.”
--
“The train is coming.” Taemin said softly, listening to the quiet melody of metal wheels click, click, clicking along the tracks - a lullaby to put him to sleep.
Minho didn’t say anything for a minute, just turned to watch the train’s headlight pierce the gray fog that hung around them like a cloak, hid them from prying eyes as if a final courteously.
A wry smile twitched on to his lips. He’d always been told “first darkness, then light” but that didn’t seem so accurate now. He didn’t mind though because he wasn’t afraid of the dark - not when he knew he’d feel Taemin right beside him, holding tight to his hand.
“Will you come with me then, Taemin?” The words were oddly formal on his tongue as he stood, fingers loosening around the said boy’s smaller ones - a choice. Minho didn’t want to give it, but he knew he had to. He tipped his head down and watched for any flicker of hesitation, any falter of emotion to cross that young face; but Taemin’s eyes were hard with a sort of conviction he’d never seen before and the young boy tightened his grip on Minho’s hand almost painfully as he stood up beside the other.
“I told you I would, didn’t I?” He almost sounded annoyed.
Sweet, honest, childish, typical Taemin - Minho smiled.
--
“Where is mom sending you, Hyung?” Taemin whispered as he padded into the room, the key they’d used to try and lock him out loosely dangling from his slender fingers. Minho didn’t move from where he was sprawled across the bed in the guest room, the sole piece of furniture in his temporary prison. His eyes didn’t flicker from where they were focused intently on a stain on the otherwise flawless white ceiling, and it sort of reminded him of Taemin - pure white except for him, the stain which had debauched and ruined everything.
The bed dipped tearing Minho from his hazy reverie, and it was only when soft brown hair tickled at his cheek and an angel smiled down at him, the boy’s full, soft mouth still bruised and swollen, that his focus shifted to the twin pools of warm chestnut brown gazing down at him, the weight of that concerned stare like a physical caress. Minho looked to the side and snorted spitefully, finally answering the question.
“Does it matter?” His words bit, and Taemin flinched hard enough to make Minho pause before he forced himself to swallow his anger. “Anywhere without you is worse than death.” He continued, softer this time, voice low and soothing as he smiled without humor, reaching up to tuck a strand of satiny hair behind the curve of Taemin’s ear, perhaps for the last time. “And even when I die we’ll probably be separated.”
Taemin tilted his head into the touch, cheek filling the curve of Minho’s large palm, eyes filling with tears as he shook his head from side to side, nuzzling in to the warmth of his brother’s open hand. “Don’t say that.” He whispered, lips ghosting across the lined skin like a kiss.
“It’s true, Taemin.” Minho managed some bitter semblance of a smile, all thin, stretched lips and sad eyes. “You’re an angel and I…I’m going to hell.”
A pause so long the elder thought it might grow large enough to swallow him whole, and then warm water trickling down his wrist - tears. Taemin raised his head from where he’d hidden it in the other’s gentle touch and long web of fingers then, looking straight into his brother’s eyes. Minho couldn’t explain it, but despite the tears sliding out from the corners of Taemin’s brown orbs, his eyes were burning; it made him shiver.
“I’d follow you anywhere, Hyung.”
--
They were standing on the edge now, toes pushed precariously over the side of the platform, and Taemin’s mind was screaming danger but his heart was beating yes, yes, yes steadily to the music of the approaching train’s wheels as they rolled over the track. His hand was still held tight in Minho’s and as the headlight finally pierced the fog and shot into his eyes making spotted little stars appear in his vision, he realized he hadn’t said good bye.
Taemin turned, auburn hair whipping in the icy, morning wind and scarf tails swinging like kite tails in a breeze, and shouted, “I’ll never let go.” The tell-tale thundering of the train’s approach was growing louder, snuffing out the volume of his voice; but it was enough to see the recognition in Minho’s eyes and his last smile as he mouthed, “I’ll never let go of this hand.”
Their fingers laced, their breath stalled, and then suddenly they were jumping, Minho’s voice at his ear.
“Jumping into the light-"
Vaguely, as though time had slowed to a turtle’s crawl, the youth realized that the sun had finally risen high in the sky, though it was blotted out by the brightness of the light secured to the head of the train, far too close now. And as Taemin fell through the air, his hand tightening where it gripped his older brother’s, he smiled and closed his eyes, finishing the final lyric to their lullaby.
“- and falling in to the dark.”
--
“Taemin…” Minho said trailing off, stunned. The said boy raised a hand and placed it over the one still caressing his cheek, wedging his bony fingers in between his older brother’s as he gave a weak smile, though his eyes had yet to stop flickering in the dark stillness of the room, like candle light. Taemin’s face was sheer intensity, the tortured expression reminding the elder of an avenging angel.
“You said you’d never leave me, Minho.”
The latter sucked in a breath at the sound of his name - not ‘Minho Hyung’, just Minho. Just his name.
Taemin’s voice grew softer, fragile again. His eyes dropped their bold gaze and their laced fingers fell to his side, battered lower lip trembling. “You promised.”
Minho stared at the broken boy in front of him straddling his hips, his lithe body so light that the dark haired boy hardly felt the pressure on his thighs; and his eyes softened, dark curling lashes delicately dropping down over deep brown eyes so alike Taemin’s own. “I did, didn’t I?”
Using his hands, the elder pushed himself up into a sitting position until Taemin’s bangs teased at his forehead, their breath mingling. The dancer’s eyes glazed over, a blush finding its way to the surface of his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. “M-minho?”
“Come with me then.” He whispered cruelly against the other’s mouth. “Follow me and I’ll never let go of this hand.”
He raised their joined fingers, bringing Taemin’s knuckles to his mouth so that he could brush his lips across the bony tops of them, hooded eyes never leaving the youth’s face - tear streaked and beaten and distraught, but none the less beautiful.
Taemin’s eyes were burning again, but this time the reason Minho shivered was because of the word pressed into his mouth over and over again - soft, sweet and sinful.
“Forever.”
--
This love is be and end all-
This love will be your downfall.
Home Insurance
warning: incest
a/n: wow. so i actually finished it. i apologize for the wait!
it was hard to bring myself to write this chapter since i've never
actually written something like this before - i won't ruin the surprise
though. thanks for sticking with this story til the very end
and, despite that this chapter didn't turn out exactly the way i wanted it to,
i hope you'll still enjoy and share your thoughts with me.
i'd love to see some comments. :)
"Who are you to make me feel so good?
Who are we to tell ourselves that we're misunderstood?
Oh, who am I to say I'm always yours?
Who am I to choose the boy that everyone adores?
Oh, I don't see a reason why we can't just be apart
We're falling on each other like we're always in the dark
Oh, I don't think you know me much at all, at all..." - This Love Will Be Your Downfall by Ellie Goulding
It had always been inevitable - there were just some things in this world you couldn’t get away with. On some level Taemin must have known that, or he wouldn’t have been sitting here in the numbing cold waiting for a train.
His small hand was shaking where it was clasped tightly in his older brother’s (though he honestly couldn’t say whether or not he was afraid), and when he glanced over at Minho from the corner of his eyes, the fabric of his thick scarf grazing the skin of his cheek where it was coiled around the lower half of his face covering his mouth and the tip of his red nose loosely, the taller boy’s eyes were steely with resolve as they stared out into the gray morning sky.
They weren’t going to run; he’d been told there was only one place for people like them.
--
All Taemin heard was crying. Crying. Crying. Crying. It was making his ears bleed, no- that was his mouth where his teeth had scraped and torn apart the soft pink inner flesh of his cheek when his father had hit him square in the mouth. It’d happened as soon as he’d walked through the door, and he’d heard his older brother curse himself under his breath for not thinking to enter the house first. Minho had sucked in a sharp gasp then from where he stood behind his younger brother, watching their father’s large hand had come down across Taemin’s pretty face, still smudged with makeup, over and over again until the brunette’s lips were no longer red from kisses but rather from the blood that spurted from his mouth as he cried out in pain.
“Stop it! Stop it, you bastard!” Minho screamed, rushing to cover his brother, helpless to do anything but watch him spit crimson onto the floor and bring a hand to his bruising jaw. He used his own body as a shield, back crumpling under the blind fury of his father’s fists, but Minho hardly felt it. All he saw was red, the blood that slowly pooled onto the floor and dripped down his brother’s pointed chin seeming to spread out and cover his vision like a blanket of hot, pulsing rage and his eyes frantically scanned the room, looking for something, anything, to use as a weapon. If he could just stop Taemin from hurting - he’d do anything. His eyes found Taemin’s backpack where it had slid off his shoulder and onto the floor nearby, the pointed edge of a textbook sticking out from a tear in the fabric, near the zipper.
--
“Are you cold?” Minho asked, breath coming out in a chilled cloud of air as a small smile curled his chapped lips. Taemin’s gaze slid to his long, slender neck, tracing the protrusion of his Adams apple down until it flattened out into the beginnings of his chest and disappeared under his heavy black coat. The youth’s brown eyes softened as he brought a hand up to touch the scarves looped around his neck, thick and knit and long; one was more than enough but Minho had insisted Taemin take his as well - you know how red your nose gets.
And yes. Yes, he was cold. He was so cold he thought he might start to freeze in real time, the ice slowly working its way into his oversized boots where they were buried under an inch of snow already, easing its wet tongue between his toes and up his calves, stopping the slow circulation of his blood, the rapid beating of his heart. The brunette was cold as death, but he supposed soon it wouldn’t matter anymore anyway. So instead he put on a brave face and smiled from under the layers of fabric blocking half his face from sight, the only indicator of his half hearted attempted at a grin the way his small eyes squinted up, though any sort of emotion other than a bone chilling sort of resignation didn’t quite reach his eyes.
He squeezed Minho’s hand from where their entwined fingers were stuffed inside the older boy’s pocket.
“I’ll be okay.”
--
“You didn’t have to do that, Hyung.” Taemin said quietly, though the words were slow and muffled, and it was painfully obvious that it took immense effort just for him to move his jaw at all, which had begun to turn a sickening shade of purple. Looking at him made Minho’s chest constrict and ache in ways it never had before and he brought a shaking hand up to caress his younger brother’s soft, round cheek - careful and unbearably light as he swept a thumb just under one of his teary eyes, wiping the water gathering there away. He didn’t regret it.
“Shh, don’t worry about it. One more sin won’t make a difference now.” Minho murmured softly, long fingers moving to smooth down Taemin’s long, silken hair in habit. His eyes found the textbook again, now farther away, the previously sharp edge blunt and stained red. His dark round eyes flickered back to his brother’s face, still pale with terror. Minho couldn’t be sure who scared him more though - him, or his father. “Not where I’m going.”
--
“The train is coming.” Taemin said softly, listening to the quiet melody of metal wheels click, click, clicking along the tracks - a lullaby to put him to sleep.
Minho didn’t say anything for a minute, just turned to watch the train’s headlight pierce the gray fog that hung around them like a cloak, hid them from prying eyes as if a final courteously.
A wry smile twitched on to his lips. He’d always been told “first darkness, then light” but that didn’t seem so accurate now. He didn’t mind though because he wasn’t afraid of the dark - not when he knew he’d feel Taemin right beside him, holding tight to his hand.
“Will you come with me then, Taemin?” The words were oddly formal on his tongue as he stood, fingers loosening around the said boy’s smaller ones - a choice. Minho didn’t want to give it, but he knew he had to. He tipped his head down and watched for any flicker of hesitation, any falter of emotion to cross that young face; but Taemin’s eyes were hard with a sort of conviction he’d never seen before and the young boy tightened his grip on Minho’s hand almost painfully as he stood up beside the other.
“I told you I would, didn’t I?” He almost sounded annoyed.
Sweet, honest, childish, typical Taemin - Minho smiled.
--
“Where is mom sending you, Hyung?” Taemin whispered as he padded into the room, the key they’d used to try and lock him out loosely dangling from his slender fingers. Minho didn’t move from where he was sprawled across the bed in the guest room, the sole piece of furniture in his temporary prison. His eyes didn’t flicker from where they were focused intently on a stain on the otherwise flawless white ceiling, and it sort of reminded him of Taemin - pure white except for him, the stain which had debauched and ruined everything.
The bed dipped tearing Minho from his hazy reverie, and it was only when soft brown hair tickled at his cheek and an angel smiled down at him, the boy’s full, soft mouth still bruised and swollen, that his focus shifted to the twin pools of warm chestnut brown gazing down at him, the weight of that concerned stare like a physical caress. Minho looked to the side and snorted spitefully, finally answering the question.
“Does it matter?” His words bit, and Taemin flinched hard enough to make Minho pause before he forced himself to swallow his anger. “Anywhere without you is worse than death.” He continued, softer this time, voice low and soothing as he smiled without humor, reaching up to tuck a strand of satiny hair behind the curve of Taemin’s ear, perhaps for the last time. “And even when I die we’ll probably be separated.”
Taemin tilted his head into the touch, cheek filling the curve of Minho’s large palm, eyes filling with tears as he shook his head from side to side, nuzzling in to the warmth of his brother’s open hand. “Don’t say that.” He whispered, lips ghosting across the lined skin like a kiss.
“It’s true, Taemin.” Minho managed some bitter semblance of a smile, all thin, stretched lips and sad eyes. “You’re an angel and I…I’m going to hell.”
A pause so long the elder thought it might grow large enough to swallow him whole, and then warm water trickling down his wrist - tears. Taemin raised his head from where he’d hidden it in the other’s gentle touch and long web of fingers then, looking straight into his brother’s eyes. Minho couldn’t explain it, but despite the tears sliding out from the corners of Taemin’s brown orbs, his eyes were burning; it made him shiver.
“I’d follow you anywhere, Hyung.”
--
They were standing on the edge now, toes pushed precariously over the side of the platform, and Taemin’s mind was screaming danger but his heart was beating yes, yes, yes steadily to the music of the approaching train’s wheels as they rolled over the track. His hand was still held tight in Minho’s and as the headlight finally pierced the fog and shot into his eyes making spotted little stars appear in his vision, he realized he hadn’t said good bye.
Taemin turned, auburn hair whipping in the icy, morning wind and scarf tails swinging like kite tails in a breeze, and shouted, “I’ll never let go.” The tell-tale thundering of the train’s approach was growing louder, snuffing out the volume of his voice; but it was enough to see the recognition in Minho’s eyes and his last smile as he mouthed, “I’ll never let go of this hand.”
Their fingers laced, their breath stalled, and then suddenly they were jumping, Minho’s voice at his ear.
“Jumping into the light-"
Vaguely, as though time had slowed to a turtle’s crawl, the youth realized that the sun had finally risen high in the sky, though it was blotted out by the brightness of the light secured to the head of the train, far too close now. And as Taemin fell through the air, his hand tightening where it gripped his older brother’s, he smiled and closed his eyes, finishing the final lyric to their lullaby.
“- and falling in to the dark.”
--
“Taemin…” Minho said trailing off, stunned. The said boy raised a hand and placed it over the one still caressing his cheek, wedging his bony fingers in between his older brother’s as he gave a weak smile, though his eyes had yet to stop flickering in the dark stillness of the room, like candle light. Taemin’s face was sheer intensity, the tortured expression reminding the elder of an avenging angel.
“You said you’d never leave me, Minho.”
The latter sucked in a breath at the sound of his name - not ‘Minho Hyung’, just Minho. Just his name.
Taemin’s voice grew softer, fragile again. His eyes dropped their bold gaze and their laced fingers fell to his side, battered lower lip trembling. “You promised.”
Minho stared at the broken boy in front of him straddling his hips, his lithe body so light that the dark haired boy hardly felt the pressure on his thighs; and his eyes softened, dark curling lashes delicately dropping down over deep brown eyes so alike Taemin’s own. “I did, didn’t I?”
Using his hands, the elder pushed himself up into a sitting position until Taemin’s bangs teased at his forehead, their breath mingling. The dancer’s eyes glazed over, a blush finding its way to the surface of his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. “M-minho?”
“Come with me then.” He whispered cruelly against the other’s mouth. “Follow me and I’ll never let go of this hand.”
He raised their joined fingers, bringing Taemin’s knuckles to his mouth so that he could brush his lips across the bony tops of them, hooded eyes never leaving the youth’s face - tear streaked and beaten and distraught, but none the less beautiful.
Taemin’s eyes were burning again, but this time the reason Minho shivered was because of the word pressed into his mouth over and over again - soft, sweet and sinful.
“Forever.”
--
This love is be and end all-
This love will be your downfall.
Home Insurance