StaySlutStation

“There isn’t anything you could do?” Han pleaded, practically begin the head of student support, Jeongin, to support him.

“Sorry Han, I’ll let you know if we have any more students requesting tutors, but for now business is a little slow.”

“That’s okay, just let me know, okay?” Han said, defeated.

Han was a Junior in college, straight A student, full ride scholarship, and a tutor at the student support building.

But he had one problem.

His ancient sound system had finally given up its last breath, but he had to find a way to replace it. The thing is, a setup like the one his friend Chan has, is extremely expensive.

So Han just picked up extra shifts at the gamer cafe...but that didn't make him money fast enough. So he decided to beg the people at the student support office to let him tutor as many people as possible.

He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

Felix, Han’s roommate, was laying on the couch when Han got the call. Han was lazily strumming his guitar, laid out on his pillows and staring into space.

He practically jumped when he saw it was form the student support center, sliding his guitar off of him (careful not to drop it ofc) and throwing some socks and shoes on to run to the office.

.

“But we have to warn you Han, she’s a bit…difficult…she’s already gone through 8 tutors.”

“Gone through?” Han asked breathlessly, coming from the other side of campus.

“They all quit.”

"Oh..."

Han bounced his leg rapidly where he sat in the lobby, waiting to get the details about this mystery girl who everyone seemed to be afraid of…or something.

“Han, here you go.” Jeongin, at the desk handed him a paper containing the student information, and he just smiled and ran off, eager to get started.

.

After looking over your scheduled requested tutoring time, he found your dorm listed on the form and was now right in front of your door. You were in a single dorm, and your door had a ‘Fuck Off’ sign on it.

Real welcoming.

It didn't help that you were blasting heavy metal either. He knocked twice, waiting for an answer. None. He knocked harder, practically banging on the door.

The music lowered a few decibels. "What?!" You yelled loudly, making Han flinch back from the door.

"U-uh...I'm Han, from student support, you needed a tutor, right?"

A moment of silence passed before the music cut completely. The door swung open in almost an aggressive manner. "Unfortunately."

Han was stunned. Terrified.

Han knew of you, as most people did at your university. You were somewhat infamous. Some people knew you as the girl with 'incurable anger issues', who flipped a professors table for calling her 'problematic', who made a kid cry for breathing too hard, and was involved in many, many more incidents.

Han had never been so intimidated in his life.

It all made sense now, the whole 'going through' 8 tutors. He was gonna be working with a monster.

It didn't help that you wore pretty much all black, everyday, giant platform boots, and an absurd amount of studded and spiked cuffs. Your nails were always black, and you always had intense eyeliner that made your eyes almost cat-like. You looked like you ate guys like Han for breakfast.

"You gonna stare at me or get to the point? I'm busy right now." You scowled.

"Oh- yeah, right. Uhm. I'm Han Jisung, a junior from student support, and I've been assigned as your tutor. Could I ask what schedule works best for you?" Jisung asked, trying to sound as polite and professional as possible.

You smirked, letting a huff of air exit your nose on a laugh.

Han gulped. He felt like a sheep in the den of a lion, but the lion was simply standing there licking it's lips, taunting him.

"Okay, well I'm free Tuesdays and Thursdays whenever, just make sure it's not before noon because I don't have classes those days and wanna sleep in. On Fridays just make sure it's not every Friday, but when it is on a Friday it has to be before 7pm because its the weekend. Same thing as Friday for Saturday, and then don't bother me on Sunday whatsoever, that's my rest day. Mondays and Wednesdays are Fine after 5pm which is an hour after my last class." You explained.

Han just stared.

"You getting all of this or what?" You said, your smirk instantly dropping.

"Oh- yeah sorry...what was that again?" He winced.

You practically growled with irritation.

"Give me your phone." You said flatly.

"Uh- okay sure." He said, fumbling for his phone and almost dropping it before handing it over. Way too easily, by the way.

You stared at it. "You gonna put your password in or do you want me to guess it or something?" You tilted your head, raising a brow, and Han almost started shaking.

"Sorry..." He snatched it back, putting in his password, handing it back.

You plucked it from his hands, typing a few things.

You handed it back, your contact on his screen.

"That's my number. I'll text you what I just said later." You said, done with the conversation, slamming the door in his face, making him jump back.

Before Han could even say 'thank you', your heavy metal was unpaused, completely muting his chance.

"Okay..."

He looked down at his phone screen, the contact you put in his phone was simply under 'Fuck You'.

Great, you hated him. You hated him and now you're gonna kill him.

-

"You wan't me to tutor HER!?" Han slammed the paper file on the student support desk.

Jeongin winced. "Sorry man, you were the only one willing to..."

"No. No I did not." Han says assertively.

"You specifically said ANY students, you needed it, you begged me." Jeongin reminded him.

"Okay, well I think someone who could kill me should be the exception!"

"Han, you're being dramatic, she's not gonna kill you." Jeongin deadpanned.

"I'm serious! She's crazy! I may be a nerd, but shes a genuine freak!" He whisper-yelled.

"Do you want the money or not?" Jeongin asked, rolling his eyes.

Han sighed. "Yeah..."

"Alright then."

-

Shit.

Han was running late to your tutoring session, cramming in his own homework between his busy schedule.

"She's gonna fucking kill me." He winced, feeling like he was gonna cry.

His soul almost left his body when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He took a deep breath before picking up. "Hello?" His voice cracked.

"You got somewhere more important to be right now?" You sounded irritated.

"No! No- i'm so sorry, I lost track of time, I'm on my way right now I promise!" He wheezed.

You simply hung up, making his anxiety spike, his mind racing with all kinds of ridiculous punishments you might implement on him. He walked faster and faster with each image, wondering if he'll be the ninth tutor you would 'go through'. How is this even allowed???

He finally made it to your door, knocking, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Come in!" You yelled from somewhere inside.

He hesitated, taking a deep breath before twisting the nob, pushing the door open and stepping inside before closing it behind him. His eyes scanned the room. He assumed you were in your room, standing in the entryway awkwardly, not wanting to walk in there without permission.

"Just give me a second, take your shoes off and sit down!" You shouted from the room, and Han had never obeyed orders so fast in his life. He sat on the very end of the couch, squeezing his legs together in an effort to make himself as small as possible, stiff as a board.

Your footsteps were heard, and his head snapped in your direction. You came in, tying your hair in a ponytail. "Next time your late, I won't be very graceful." You said, but Han didn't catch it. With your hand busy above your head, your slightly cropped, loose-fit band tee rode up your stomach, exposing a sliver of skin between it and some very tiny black shorts. It rode up just enough to expose the metal bar going through your bellybutton. And yeah, Han was a little weird, but he could swear he never had a bellybutton kink...

What?

"Hello? What are you looking at?" You sneered.

"NOTHING!" He accidentally yelled, ears burning beside his head. "J-just spaced out, sorry...thinking about- uh...equations..." He cringed, praying he didn't look like a weirdo pervert.

"Whatever, lets just get this over with." You rolled your eyes, laying back on the couch, legs crossed, but you still seemed to take up the entire space. Han noticed the slight smell of weed and nicotine that emulated from your presence, the earthy concoction surprisingly calming.

"So, I saw you need help with calculus?" He said, voice small and shaky.

"Ugh, yeah...fucking hate that class." You grumbled, crossing your arms.

"Okay....uh, then lets start there, yeah?" He swallows.

"Whatever."

"Okay, so..."

And he gets going. One thing about Han is that he is a total brainiac, and when he gets into certain academic topics, he enters a flow. He keeps glancing back at you, making sure you understand, and if you don't, he simply breaks it down, no frustration.

After some time, you get restless.

"Holy fuck this is boring." You cross your arms, feeling your brain throb in your skull.

"Oh- okay, do you wanna move to a different subject..?" He suggests, flexing his hands in his lap.

"No, I want this stupid tutoring thing to be over..." You grumbled, turning away from him.

"Oh- i'm sorry, is there a way I can make it less boring?" He offers.

"Its calculus." You deadpan, facing back towards him.

"Well...I mean sometimes I find calculus fun..." He mumbles.

"Yeah, well i'm not a stuck up little nerd who knows everything." You bite.

Silence.

"I don't know everything..." He feels small under your gaze, and yet he cant help the blood rushing to his face...and elsewhere. Something about you putting him down but saying he 'knows everything' makes a dark, dirty feeling curl in his abdomen. "Do you...wanna take a break?"

"What?"

"Take a break, like get a snack or take a short walk...or something." He says, voice getting smaller with each syllable.

You let out an amused little puff of air through your nose. "Y'know what, I have something I need to do, and I need you to come with me." You smirk, standing up and walking over to the door.

"Me? Uh...what is it?" He asks, mouth going dry.

"Doesn't matter, you're 21 right?" You ask, grabbing your keys.

"Yeah? Wait why do I have to-

"Han, stop asking fucking questions." You spit, opening the door.

"Okay...just as long as it doesn't take too long." He said in defeat, dragging his feet out the door.

"Eh, shouldn't take too long...probably." You shrug.

-

"The liquor store?" Han stares out the window at the shop.

"Yup, and you're gonna do something for me, got it?" You lower your lids, smirking at him with a sinful look. So unfair.

Han gulps "Okay.." He nods obediently.

"So, this guy caught me stealing some shit like a week ago, and I can no longer go in there and buy my shit, so that's where you come in. I need some fireball shooters for a kickback with some friends." You explain.

"Wait- you want me to buy alcohol?? I-I don't think I can, I've never bought it before!" Han starts panicking.

"You're 21 right?" You ask.

"Yeah.."

"And you have your ID, right?"

"Mhm..." He was sweating bullets by now. Han could barely buy groceries with shaky hands and you want him to buy alcohol, and stealing?? What if the guy finds out you sent him? what if he gets in trouble? What if something happens???

"Hannie..." You say, your voice now low, and in a suspiciously soft tone. "You can do that for me, I know you can."

Han lets out a shaky breath, jaw slacking. The praise. The nickname. Your voice. Han was ready to run head first into a war for you, as long as you keep calling him that in that sweet tone with praises littered here and there.

You handed him a sum of cash, and the contact was enough to completely break him.

"Okay." Han said, opening the door before he can even process he said yes, and thankfully before the heat can rise to his face.

By the time he stumbled into the store, the dread of what you got him to do so easily hit him all at once. He felt nauseous, scanning the bottles, feeling so out of place. He was sweating, making up scenario's In his head where the store clerk thought his ID was fake and he'd be sent to jail, where the store clerk thought he was stealing and he'd be sent to jail, where-

He closed his eyes, letting the memory of your voice, your praise, motivate him to get this shit over with.

He's got this.

He scanned some more bottles, finding the shooters, looking for the red and orange devil beverage he had once during a party Felix dragged him to his freshman year. He couldn't understand how people drank that shit, It burned and made him want to throw up within seconds of downing it. He shook his head, not wanting to remember such an awful taste.

Finally finding it, he grabbed it and walked straight to the counter, putting all his fears aside for the mere idea of you telling him he did a good job. He brought the case to the counter, giving an anxious smile.

"College students..." The cashier shook his head, ringing the case up.

Han payed, grabbed the case, gave a quick nod to the cashier, and made his way out, all without shaky hands. He got back in your car, a giddy smile threatening to break out on his face.

"Wow, that was faster than I thought, figured you might throw up by just walking in there." You snickered.

Han felt his cheeks warm again, the praise going straight to his brain and making him melt. "I thought I was going to too..." He feels dazed.

"Alright Han, maybe another hour of studying won't be so painful anymore."

-

And an hour did pass, concluding the 2 and half hour tutoring session. You stretched, letting out an exhausted groan.

"Jesus, that was agonizing." You exaggerating.

"We actually went through a lot, we're on track." He smiled.

"Don't smile at me like that."

"Sorry..." He said, turning his head, cause he simply couldn't stop.

"Alright, now get out, I have a few people to torture..." You joked, smirking before getting up.

Han froze. What?

"Joking." You said before slipping into your room.

Han sighed, disappointed in the fact that he was done for the day, and that he wished he did more so you would praise him more.

Fuck.

-

That was okay, cause the next day he was there bright and early. That was unfortunately a mistake.

He knocked. "Y/N? I'm here early this time!"

He heard something crash to the floor. "One second!" You called out, sounding irritated once more. "Fuck..." He heard you say under your breath, shifting some things around. Your footsteps pounded against the floor, and he wasn't prepared for what he was about to see once you swung the door open.

"Why are you early?" You grumbled, and Han could barely make out whatever the hell you just said.

Cause fuck.

Your hair was slightly disheveled, flipped over lazily, your lips were blushed and wet with saliva, and your eyes. God your eyes. Your eyes were hooded, looking at him like you wanted to eat him.

Whatever that would entail...

Your chest was slightly heaving, and you had a slight sheen of sweat coating your forehead. Fuck. Were you having sex??? Did Han just interrupt you fucking somebody??

Han immediately turned red, even the thought of it making his cock twitch embarrassingly. "U-uh, I could totally come back later- I just thought- Yesterday-

"Han." You stopped him. "It's fine, I'm not busy, but next time just send a damn text." You rolled your eyes, stepping aside so he can come in.

You weren't busy???

Han's eyes looked around, assuming someone must have been in there. Your boyfriend, maybe? Han hates the thought of that.

Meanwhile, you were trying your hardest not to seem at all guilty, wiping the sweat off your forehead. In all truth, before Han came, you figured with about 20 minutes before Han came, you could maybe...get some thoughts off your mind.

You didn't mean to let your hand drift down your body and under your shorts, but you couldn't help the thought of how absolutely pathetic Han was for you, and the look in his eyes when you so easily got him to do whatever you wanted. He was so utterly pure, and it made you wanna do bad things to him, corrupt him for everyone else. The fact that he was so smart and servicing turned you on, more than you predicted.

"Well, I was thinking we could get started on econ and then towards the end review some more calculus?" He asked, sitting down before you sat next to him.

"Sure.." You sat, crossing your arms.

And things were normal, for a good two hours and some change.

"...and then you would square it. As long as you memorize the formula, you honestly got it." He says, in his usual state of being a total genius.

"Gosh Hannie, sometimes it pisses me off how smart you are..." You scoff, getting a bit frustrated.

Han froze. He couldn't believe you said that. Not only did you directly praise him, but you called him Hannie again. His breathing caught in his throat, and he couldn't stop the blood rushing to his face, and certainly not the blood rushing the opposite direction.

He let out a noise, startled at how his dick reacted before he could. You raised a brow, looking at his with a smirk. Fuck, did you know?

"Hannie? You all good there?" You ask, tilting your head.

Han wanted to die in a hole.

"I'm fine..." He started to sweat.

"Can I help you with anything?" Your smirk widened.

God he wished you could.

"No, its okay, really!" He said frantically.

"Okay, if you say so..." You let him be, turning back to the papers, even though you know what's going on.

"S-so- if you take this variable, and pair it with this-

His words were cut short when he felt the tingle of your fingertips brush his knee. "Y'know Hannie...I'm getting kinda bored..." You trace a circle with your finger on his thigh. "Lets take a break, yeah?" You said playfully, completely aware of what you're doing to the poor boy.

He lets out a shaky breath, feeling himself fully harden, having to solve his folder into his lap to hide his obvious bulge. "Y-yeah..." He honestly didn't even know what he was saying yes to.

"Don't worry, I won't make you do anything for me this time..." You smirked.

He just nodded dumbly.

"Now...I actually wanted to ask you something Hannie." You slide your hand to place your palm directly on his thigh.

Han seemed to slightly snap out of his daze, always ready to serve.

"Not about econ, not about calculus...I wanna ask you a personal question." You said, making sure every syllable was clear.

"Anything..." He said, he eyelids fluttering. The way he said it with no hesitation whatsoever had you clenching around nothing, feeling yourself dampen your panties.

"Anything? Do you really mean that Hannie?" You pressed.

"For you..." He said, feeling himself turn impossibly more red, he didn't even know what he was saying, he just wanted to hear your voice.

That made you horny in a way he'll probably never understand.

"Then Hannie..." You leaned into his space, and he stayed completely still, feeling his breathing pick up it's pace. "Are you hard right now?" You whispered in his ear, lips tickling him.

He gasped softly, feeling like his cock was going to explode, but also like his face was gonna start oozing blood from how embarrassed he was. You knew he was hard.

"Be honest Hannie..." You said.

And Han couldn't find a single shard of his being that wanted to disobey you.

"Yes..." He whispered, but it ended in a quiet whine.

"Hmmm...poor baby, hm?" You taunted, and Han whimpered.

He wanted to beg, to plead, to touch himself while you told him how good he was, but he just couldn't. He was so nervous.

"What was that Hannie? Do you want me to help you?" You asked, trailing a finger under his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

He gasped, lashes fluttering as he pressed his folder down on his crotch, his erection becoming unbearable.

"I guess not..." You frown.

"NO!" He gasps.

"Oh?" You smirk.

"Please..." He closed his eyes.

"Please what, baby?" You ask, nudging his chin, signaling him to open his eyes.

"Please..." He whined. "Help me..."

"With what?" You were torturing him. "You gotta tell me what you want."

"Please touch me." He said on a broken sob.

"See? was that so hard Hannie?" You asked.

He shook his head, and you stroked the side of your face.

"I'll take care of it..." You said, licking your lips, pulling the folder off his lap and tossing it on the floor. His jeans were painfully tented, a small wet patch where his tip probably leaks pre-cum like its crying for attention.

"Face me Hannie." You said. Han immediately slid one leg up on the couch, facing his lap towards you.

You then leaned into his space, dragging a single finger up the underside of his cock through his jeans, causing him to let out a breathy moan, his hips twitching up into the touch.

"So sensitive..." You smirked.

You then crawled closer to him, between his legs, fully placing a hand on his bulge and squeezing.

"Fuck!" He moaned, clasping his hand over his mouth.

"Don't you dare cover your mouth." You spit.

He took his hand off his mouth, choosing instead to grip the couch. You continued, giving him a few more squeezes.

"Hannie, what's your safe word?" You ask.

"W-what?" HE asked, out of breath.

"Your safe word, you say it if you want this to stop."

"I don't wan't this to stop..." He said breathily, making a wet patch form on your panties.

"If, Hannie. But I need you to have one, or i'll stop." You explain.

He looked to the side, eyes raking over the papers and books from the abandoned tutoring session. "Economy." He said, impatient.

You laughed softly. "Alright baby..." You look back down at his bulge, finally reaching to unbutton his pants.

"Fuck- thankyouthankyouthankyou..." He babbled, the feeling of his cock being freed taking off the painful pressure.

You tug his pants down, fingers trailing over the tip over his boxers where a dark patch had formed. He twitched and whined under your hands.

He was feeling embarrassingly close, just the idea of you touching him going to his head, making an insane amount of pre leak from his desperate tip.

You hooked your fingers in his waistband, finally taking his boxers off, laying your eyes on his length. He had a good size, a pretty pink tip, and a nice curve to it that you knew you'd like later. It twitched up onto his stomach, the slick already dripping.

"Your dick is so pretty Hannie..." You praised, and he had to stop himself from cumming on the spot, his hips stuttering as he let out a high pitched whimper. You lifted the hem of his shirt, exposing his soft stomach, a ghost of abs being there, but they were still visible.

You finally wrapped your hand around him, and he couldn't stop his body from falling back on the couch, his shoulders pressed against the arm as he moaned like a fucking pornstar.

"Fuck..." He whimpered, your hand starting to pump him base to tip, his legs already starting to shake. "You're going to kill me." He swore, but honestly, Han would love nothing more for you to kill him by touching his dick.

"Y'know Hannie..." Han gasped loudly, feeling the familiar tightness in his abdomen. He would never get over that nickname. "When you came early...you actually interrupted me..." You said.

"I'm sorry- i'm sorry..." He sobbed, feeling guilty, remembering what happened.

"I was touching myself Hannie...thinking about you."

"Oh shit!" Han gasped before letting out the sluttiest moan ever. He was cumming. He moaned over and over, feeling himself shoot onto his own stomach, hips stuttering and shaking as you kept going.

"Can you go again Hannie? I know you can, you're doing so good baby." you stroked his face with your clean hand.

He gasped, the overstimulation becoming too much, having to stop himself from saying stop as it borderlined painful. But he couldn't, he needed to please you.

"Fuck..." He whined, shaking, feeling tears prick in the corners of his eyes. "Oh God..." He sobbed.

You continued to stroke him, thumb sliding over his sensitive tip, making him twitch and gasp. "You're so pretty like this Hannie..." You said in a sweet voice, making his breath stutter.

He felt his release build up again. "God please please please- fuck- i'm gonna cum!" He wailed, tears finally falling down his red cheeks.

You didn't let up, rotating your wrist like some succubus sent to torture his dick in the best way possible. He gasped, "fuck- I love you..." He moaned, making you smirk, fully understanding the depth of this.

You knew he didn't mean it, he didn't mean to say the L word. It didn't take away from the fact that that was your confirmation of how obsessed he was with you already, and you loved it. He was so fucked out he didn't even know what he was saying, just completely and utterly obsessed with your touch.

Then he was cumming. Hard.

His hips jerked one more time before he was spilling on his stomach one more time, chest heaving like he ran a marathon.

You smirked, happy with your results. The sight before you was gorgeous. Han was laid back, face flushed, stomach absolutely covered in cum, his arm laid over his eyes, hiding the fact that he was crying.

You took out your phone.

Han sat up when he heard the camera shutter. "What are you doing?" He asked.

"Don't worry, just keeping a little something for myself." You stroked his thigh. "Do you want me to delete it Hannie?"

No way. Not when he can just imagine what you'll do with it. "No."

"Good." You caress under his chin before getting up. "Alright, that's about it for today, yeah? I'm going to my room, you can use the bathroom right there," You point at a door next to the kitchen.

Han nods, exhausted.

"And i'll see you next time, yeah?" You nod, turning away.

Han slumps back against the couch, sighing. "Fuck..." He realizes you were probably just toying with him.

"Oh, and Han?" You said, peeking your head out the door.

"Yeah?" He sat up immediately.

"If I ace this quiz tomorrow, I might just have to ride you." You say, winking before closing the door, leaving him stunned.

"Fuck."

~~~~~

I dream about the day I can have my own little pathetic nerd 🤤

You and Chan were finally taking a vacation, a break from the press and the cameras and the many nights away from each other. It was exhausting, and you finally convinced your boyfriend to leave the laptop at home and spend a week in his hometown with you. Of course, he didn’t even think twice about being all alone with you for a week, but it was a little hard to convince him to leave his laptop.

You two rented a small private beach house, as you’ve been begging to go to the beach for a while, away from prying eyes and any stray swimmers. It was day two, and Chan spent the first day showing you around all his favorite places. The first day was really fun, Chan told you so many stories about his childhood and you met his family as well. His mother was very sweet and his dad was really welcoming, and you got to see where Chan got his cooking from.

What you didn’t know was that by day two, all Chan wanted to do was be inside of you.

You were currently spread out on your back, feet facing the headboard and head facing the large glass doors that lead to the balcony, with a large view of the beach. Chan was on top of you, one leg over his shoulder and his hand pressing down on your lower abdomen as he fucked you deep and slow. You had already cum twice, but Chan showed no signs of stopping any time soon.

“Come on baby, you wanted to see the beach, so look at it…” He panted, grabbing your chin with his other hand and pushing your head back to hang off the edge of the bed, and you were now looking out at the beach, just upside down.

His eyes flicked back down between you, watching himself slide in and out of your sopping cunt. You were letting out pathetic moans, gasping as your body shuttered against him, back arching off the bed.

He slipped a thumb between your lips, leaning closer and grunting as he thrust deeper and deeper, hitting that perfect spot, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your moaned around his finger. He smeared your saliva across your cheek, chuckling lowly at how fucked out you looked.

His hand trailed down a bit, wrapping around your throat and applying pressure, just enough to make you feel dizzy with pleasure.

“fffffuck…you’re so wet…” He groaned, slowing down and grinding deeper, dirtier.

You whined, the pleasure running through your whole body all at once.

“I should just keep you in here all week…shit…be inside you this whole fuckin’ vacation…” He whispered, kissing the valley between your breasts, pulling a moan from your throat.

“Please~” You managed to whimper.

”Yeah? Is that what you want baby?” He asked, picking up the pace of his thrusts.

You nodded to the best of your ability, just letting out pathetic whimpers.

“Tell me what you want…” He demanded, but you couldn’t speak, you felt like you were gonna explode.

But he wasn’t having any of that, so he slowed down.

You practically screamed, whining like you were about to cry.

He leaned over your body, bringing his face close to yours to rasp in your ear. “You know the rules.”

“F-fuck me…every damn day of this vacation…” You whimpered.

“Yeah?” He smirked.

“Yes! Please baby…please I need it… I missed you so fucking much…” You cry out, trailing a hand down his abs.

“mmmyeah…I missed you too baby…now take everything I give you…” He kissed your forehead before practically plowing you through the mattress.

“Fuck~!” You moaned as he drilled into your dripping cunt, filling the room with the sound of slapping skin and porno level moans.

“Ooooh fuck…you don’t know what you do to me. You have no fucking idea.” Chan panted, sweat beading across his forehead.

You moaned like it hurt, hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging in and dragging across his back hard enough to draw blood, but he loved it. He loved the fact that you felt just as much pleasure as he did, that you were just as addicted. You were all his, and he was all yours.

“Fuck…I’m so close- fuck, please~!” You cried, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as the pleasure built higher and higher, but there was something else you felt, deep in your abdomen.

“I got you baby, come on…fucking give it to me.” He growled, grabbing your face as your moans reached higher and higher.

“Shit- Chan I feel like I’m gonna-!” You started, but Chan didn’t let you finish.

“It’s okay baby, let go, come on…” He grunted, hips starting to stutter as he thrusted harder and faster, making your vision whiten at the edges.

“Fuck-!” You cried out before feeling something burst, your legs shaking violently as you screamed out in pleasure. You came many many times with Chan, and even more so in your life in general, but something was different this time. It was longer, and it felt even more intense, pulling loud, choked moans out of your throat.

Chan gripped your hip hard enough to bruise as his thrusts stuttered once more, his cock spilling into your cunt as his let out a deep moan, voice cracking through the end of it.

“Fuck baby…” He said breathlessly, slowing to a stop and releasing your face.

You were boneless, your muscles rendered utterly useless as you caught your breath for a second.

You finally found the strength to look up, planting your elbows on the bed and looking between you both.

“Oh shit.” You both were soaked. The sheets were completely soiled, and you were laying in a puddle of your own juices. Both of your bodies were shiny with wetness, dripping where your bodies connected.

Chan smiled like he won the lottery. “Never made you do that before…” He licked his lips.

“Did I squirt?” You asked.

Chan chuckled at your innocence. “Yeah baby, you did, and it was so fucking hot.” He knew exactly what to say to make sure any embarrassment wasn’t felt.

You smiled. “I’ve never done that before…like, ever.” You said shyly.

“Yeah? Well did you like it?” He asked, smiling in awe as he ran his hands up and down the sides of your waist.

“Yeah…I liked it a lot.” You blushed.

“Well then good thing we have this entire vacation to make sure you do that as much as you want.” He smirked, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him. “Round four in a minute?” You ask.

“Give me five, then we’ll go all damn night.”

~~~~~

SHESSS BACKKKK

I’m on a writing spree and I’ll try to upload some more.

You laid out on the tanning chair, legs out stretched with an arm lazily laying above your head. You could feel the blazing sun tickling your skin, thanking yourself for the amount of sunscreen your boyfriend makes you put on, making sure he ‘keeps your beautiful skin safe’. Maybe you didn’t need the copious amount that he applied to your skin, but he made sure skin cancer or a sunburn stayed away from you. It made you feel cared for, so why stop him?

“Babe!” Chan called from inside the house.

You sat up slightly, tipping your sunglasses down to look at the glass patio door.

”Huh?” You called, waiting.

Then you heard thumping, his large footsteps approaching the door inside. He burst out the door, leaping to do a front flip before landing in the water with a large splash.

Water flew at you, sprinkles hitting you head to toe. You could see the droplets clinging to your glasses as you held your hands in the air and jaw to the floor.

You waited for him to resurface, shaking the water out of his hair and pushing it out of his face. The giant smile on his face almost made you forget why you were gonna scold him, but then you remembered once a drop of water from your sunglasses dropped onto your thigh.

“Chris! You splashed me!” You pouted.

Chan swam over to the side of the pool closest to you.

“I’m sorry baby, you want a hug?” He smiled again, raising his hands out of the water at you, bringing more water out of the pool.

You just frown at him, tilting your head.

“Are you gonna get in? Cmon baby, whats the point of putting on a bathing suit if you’re not even gonna swim.” He pouted.

“Just give me like 15 minutes, and then we’ll play, okay?” You smirked.

“Okay…” He said reluctantly, trying to hide his excited smile.

~

After a few minutes, you suddenly got up from the chair to go inside.

Chan paused his laps, “Where you going hon?” He asked.

“Just getting something to cool down.” You said, trailing into the house.

Chan didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at your ass, it was his anyways, and you couldn’t see him looking at it either.

When you came back out, Chan’s eyes found your body again, distracted from continuing his laps again.

“Y’know babe, that bathing suit looks so good on you…” He said, following you from in the pool, swimming beside you to when you sat back down on the chair.

“Yeah? Thank you love.” You said, slightly lowering your voice the way that drives him crazy.

Chan was now fully focused on you, swallowing dryly once you were all laid back on the chair, legs slightly parted, and your hips were basically eye level with him.

Then you started to eat your popsicle, and Chan had never forgotten about swimming so fast in his life.

You wrapped your lips around one corner of it, the cold sensation was satisfying after being in the sun for that long. Chan’s eyes never left your mouth once, blinking maybe once in a while. The way your tongue slid along the sides of the popsicle made his cock slightly twitch.

Then you noticed him staring.

”Can I help you?” You asked, suckling the corner again.

“Probably…” He smirked, prodding the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

“Chris.” You deadpanned, making him giggle.

He decided to just go back to swimming, hoping to get those dirty thoughts out of his head. He cursed himself for picturing that popsicle as something else.

After a minute or two, Chris swam back over to you, about to whine about you not swimming with him, realizing you were watching him.

“Need something?” He asked cockily.

“No,” you smile. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

Chan bit his lip, eyes running up and down your body before he noticed the popsicle starting to drip under the heat of the sun.

Your eyes followed his, noticing it, smirking before flicking your tongue along the underside of the popsicle, collecting the juice before it fell, making slurping sounds. Chan’s cock jumped again.

But that wasn’t enough, and the juice dripped onto your chest before trickling down and disappearing between your breasts.

“Shit…” You sat up, feeling the juice becoming tacky in your cleavage.

You then slurped more around the popsicle, or the little bit that was left.

Chan felt himself grow hard from the sight, following the droplets between your tits, then watching you sick at the juice dripping off the stick.

Chan planted his forearms on the edge of the pool.

“Need help with that?” He asked, voice suspiciously low.

“No, it’s okay babe, this thing is just so messy…” You softly laughed at yourself, not even registering how this could have turned on your boyfriend.

“Are you sure?” Chan said, pushing himself up and out the pool.

You locked eyes with him, finally realizing the situation. He’s been giving you hints all day.

The not-so-subtle looks at your ass, the way his eyes have been glued to your body, the nonstop compliments about your body and the bikini, practically begging you to join him, the way he’s been so distracted every time you lean over and show the top of your tits.

The look in his eyes make you clench your thighs together instinctively. He practically crawled towards you.

“Cause I think you do…” He says, it came out like a whisper.

Then, the little bit of popsicle falls onto your thigh, the juice splattering before dripping down the sides between your legs.

You look up at him as he looks back up at you, and he crawls closer, hands finding the chair, moving to each sides of your hips.

He quirks and eyebrow, and you nod.

He kisses your collarbone, softly swiping his lips over the skin, trailing hot pecks down your chest.

Then he’s running his tongue down your chest, dipping between your tits to lick up the sticky blue mess you left.

You let out a satisfied sigh, hand running up the back of his head to tug at his curls. One hand is holding him up while to the other one is groping one of your tits, pushing it aside to lick anything he might have missed. He begins kissing and sucking, running his thumb over your nipples through the bathing suit material.

You hum out, and he tugs the triangle out of the way, exposing your nipple to the outside air, making you gasp.

You can’t really think about the fact that you’re outside, because his mouth latched around you nipple to suck and lick, stealing a soft moan from your throat. He tugs the other triangle down, using his hand to massage and tug on your erect nipple.

“God these fucking tits…” He growls against your skin.

He then trails his kisses down your stomach, making the muscles in your abdomen tense.

He’s fast to dip his head to slurp up the small bit of the popsicle that fell on your thigh, making you jolt and shiver from the contact so close to your sensitive heat.

His warm tongue is an incredible contrast to the cold water dripping all over your thighs, and you could feel his mouth getting closer to where you need him.

“Chris…please..” You whine.

“Please what baby?” He asks, smirking up at you.

“Please…rip this fucking bathing suit off and have your way with me..” You rasp, and he lets out a deep chuckle in his chest.

Then, mercifully, he hooks his fingers into your bikini bottoms, sliding them down before spreading your thighs, groaning at the sight.

He locked eyes with you, “This all for me?” He asks, bringing two fingers to slide between your folds, smearing your wetness all over your lips, making you shiver and moan.

“F-fuck.. yes~” You gasp.

“Already making another mess, you need me to clean up this one too?” He smirks, circling your clit, making your hips slightly lift.

“Yes- god please…” You shiver.

He smirked, dipping his head before kissing you right on your cunt, making you whimper.

He runs his tongue along your folds with expert precision, making you whine and moan, back arching off the chair.

“Shit~” You gasp, one hand gripping the chair, while the other one takes a spot to tug on his hair.

Chris hums into your pussy, obsessed with the taste of you, finally dipping his tongue into your entrance.a

“Ah~!” You moan out, head being thrown back in pleasure, feeling that familiar tightness in your abdomen.

Chris then wrapped his arms under your thighs, keeping you still as he lapped and sucked on your clit, and you started shaking.

“Fuck- baby I’m close- I’m so close~!” You pant and moan, whining as you feel yourself approaching your orgasm.

Chris growled into your pussy, the vibrations pushing you over the edge as your ankles dug into his back.

You came down shaking like a leaf, whimpering when it got too much, having to rip him away from between your legs.

“Shit…” You panted.

“I told you you looked good in that bikini…” He said, smirking, lifting his head up to face you.

“Fuck you’re good at that…” You sigh.

“Thank you baby. Now get in the pool yeah?” He says, and you roll your eyes.

“I don’t have my bottoms though.” You complain.

“Who says you need those? I’ll take mine off right now.”

“Haha Chris no, we have neighbors!” You scold.

“Well if they can see us they can definitely hear us, but I don’t think that mattered all that much to you…” He smirked.

Your face burned up with the heat of a thousand suns. You definitely had to cool off in the pool, with your bathing suit all the way on, of course…

~~~~~

November 1st, 1987

Jisung’s thighs burned.

“Fuck- Minho please~” Jisung whined, gasping for air like he ran a mile.

“You said you could take it baby, so take it…Come on, I know you can do it.” Minho purred.

Jisung was riding Minho, and has been for the last 10 minutes. By now his thighs were starting to give out. His hands were placed right below Minho’s sternum, and he desperately tried to chase after his release, but every time he got close he suddenly felt his limbs give out, and he had to start from zero again.

“Please baby? I wore this just for you..” Jisung pouted, voice shaky. It was currently 1:34am, and some of Jisung and Minho’s friends were still downstairs in the living room. They had a little get together for Halloween, and with what Jisung had on, Minho couldn’t wait for company to leave.

What Jisung wore that night wasn’t exactly provocative, and nobody but Minho would notice the sex appeal it intended. It was a tight fit long-sleeve turtleneck, just plain black, which wasn’t a problem. The outfit was paired with two devil horns, a tiny pitch fork, and two cute little wings strapped to his back. The real problem was the shorts. They were red and very small, at least to Minho. In reality they were a normal length for the 80s, but something about the fact that Jisung’s thighs were completely out made it hard for Minho to not get hard.

Jisung did this on purpose.

Minho and Jisung drank with their friends, but with each drink, their young brains were both turning to nothing but horny mush. Minho had hidden the remote on purpose, so when the others asked for it, he made his move. Jisung went into his room to get it, and before he could even turn around to deliver it, Minho was all over him.

“Minho- Minho I have to get this out there..” He said between their mouths.

“Go, then I want you back in here. Be quick.” Jisung could tell Minho was being serious.

Jisung returned the remote, but not before he explained that Minho ‘wasn’t feeling well’ and he needed to take care of him.

That led them here. Minho, in nothing but his unbuttoned shirt from his ‘police officer’ uniform, and Jisung in nothing but his horns and wings.

“I know you did, and I appreciate it a lot, you look so cute baby…but I think I want my little devil to beg a bit more.” Minho smirked.

“You’re the captain…take charge…or at least help me a bit…please?” Jisung pouted, crawling his way down to Minho’s face to kiss his jaw, knowing what broke Minho. Once Jisung started rocking his hips, Minho snapped, grabbing Jisung’s waist and helping him lift up, tearing a gasp from Jisung.

“Fuck…you’re such a little brat…can’t even ride me properly, my baby needs help with everything huh?” Minho coo’d, thrusting up into Jisung, groaning at the feeling.

“mmmh~! Yes…fuck- yes Minho…” Jisung moaned, rolling his hips, feeling his orgasm approaching.

“Walking around in those slutty shorts…you were just begging for me…” Minho ran his hands through Jisung’s hair before tugging it, making Jisung moan louder. “Shhhh baby…we have company…wouldn’t want them to know I’m fucking you this good, would you?” Minho smirks.

Jisung covered his mouth with his hand, the other on Minho’s abdomen as he bounced on his cock, feeling himself tip over. The way Minhos cock reached deep inside and hit the perfect spot over and over was making him see stars.

“Shit- fuck baby I’m gonna cum~” Jisung mewled, leaking sweet precum onto Minhos stomach, the sight itself being too lewd for Minho to hold back a moan.

So he planted his feet on the mattress, thrusting harder up into Jisung’s poor hole.

Jisung would have come, if it weren’t for Hyunjin barging in the room.

“JISU- AHHHHH!” Hyunjin yelled, covering his eyes.

Jisung’s head snaps around.

“Hyunjin what are you doing?! You scared the shit out of me!” Jisung pants, and Minho looks beyond him to look at Hyunjin too.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Seriously?!” Jisung thanked the gods that his ass was covered by the duvet, if Hyunjin were to see Jisung’s ass getting absolutely pounded by Minho’s cock, he probably would have died of embarrassment on the spot.

“Sorry, I just need to know if-.”

“Hyunjin!” Jisung yelled, wondering what the hell was so important that Hyunjin had to stay in the room for, at least he was still covering his eyes.

“It’s important.”

“Seriously Hyunjin, I’m not gonna answer your questions with my boyfriend’s dick up my ass.” Jisung rolled his eyes.

“Dude! Gross!” Hyunjin yelled, and Minho snickered, Jisung looked back down to see Minho’s shit eating grin.

“I just wanted to ask if we can go see your friend Felix again.”

“GET OUT!!”

“Not until you give me an answer.”

“Fine! Now get out.” Jisung yelled.

“Fine, but just remember you-!”

Hyunjin was cut off by a pillow being thrown at him, giggling as he shut the door, his hand never leaving his eyes, thankfully.

Jisung sighed, slouching, then pouting. Minho was still smiling, giggling to himself.

“And what are you laughing about?” Jisung crossed his arms.

“You called me your boyfriend.” Minho smiled, and it seemed to light up the room, making Jisung smile too.

“You’re so cute. Boyfriend~” Jisung sung out.

“Stop saying that, I’ll have to pound you out.”

“No thanks, boyfriend.” Jisung smirked, and it was ripped away as soon as Minho flipped them over and started pounding into him like a man on a mission. Minho had to clasp his hand around Jisung’s mouth to keep him quiet enough to not be heard through the walls.

Jisung’s eyes were already starting to roll back, and Minho’s grunting was getting louder and louder.

“You gonna cum?” Minho asked through his breaths, tilting his head.

Jisung couldn’t do anything but moan as his legs started to shake, his cock giving one final twitch before shooting out ropes of cum all over himself.

“Oh fuuuuuck~” Minho moaned, grinding deeper before feeling himself spill over the edge, collapsing onto Jisung.

They both laid there, catching their breaths, arms wrapped around one another.

“I love you baby…” Jisung said, closing his eyes.

“I love you too.” Minho said, kissing his temple.

~~~~~

AHHHH I LOVE MY PORK SODA MINSUNG I JUST HAD TO

I know it’s been a while but ya girl has been so unmotivated :(

You were drowning.

The dip in your mattress seemed to sink further in when you heard the front door unlock, and your body was no longer moveable.

You had been in bed all day, and haven’t even eaten, staring at a wall for who knows how long. When you woke up, you felt exhausted, like you didn’t want to get up for anything, and Chan was already gone, he always let you sleep in. What he didn’t know was that you fell into deep thoughts of worthlessness, like you had nothing to offer or give, and you were kinda just…there. You were so tired. Tired of doing things. Anything. Everything.

You didn’t want to do anything. You hated getting up and brushing your teeth and feeding yourself and going about your day like a normal person. Even breathing felt like it took so much effort. You were tired of living, like your mere existence was draining all the energy from you, and you didn’t want to do it anymore.

The bedroom door opened. “Baby…?” Chan said, cautiously, like he sensed your mood in the air before he even got there.

He rounded the bed to your side, crouching down to place a hand on your shoulder. “Oh baby…” He sighed, seeing your tired face, knowing what this was. For the long time you guys have been dating, Chan knew what you were like, he knew you had chronic depression and would slip into episodes once in a while, he was used to it, but you felt bad. You talked to him about it, but he simply explained that he loved everything about you, even the broken parts, and that he would see it out to the end.

“I’ll go start up some tea…is that okay?” He asked, stroking your hair, and you couldn’t stop the tears from pouring out. “Baby?”

You grabbed his hand, holding it against your chest, shaking with sobs. You were so tired.

“I know my love, it’s gonna be okay, I’m here…” He said, softly stroking your hair with his other hand.

After you calmed down, and some light forehead kissed and words or reassurance, Chan sat you up against the headboard, then sat on the bed to face you.

“Whats going on my love?” He said, stroking your hands, which he held comfortingly.

“I’m…I’m just so tired Chan…I don’t think I wanna live anymore…” You said, hiccuping on your breaths.

Chan was silent for a bit, his breathing stopping for a second.

“Baby…you know I’m always here for you, and when life is too hard sometimes, I’ve got you, okay? I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re alone in this…please baby, let me carry all your troubles.” He says, softly choking on his words, trying not to cry.

You stared at him, biting your lip to hold the tears back. “I’m sorry you have to put up with me….”

“Don’t say that. I chose this. I chose you. All of you. I would rather listen to you cry every night, letting you just let go and give me all of your pain and suffering than not have you at all. I will beg you to let me help you because I want to, because I want to see you live another day, because I want to wake up to your beautiful face every morning. So don’t ever think that I’m ‘putting up with you’, because I will gladly lift all of this off your chest if it means having you by my side….” He cups your face, looking you in the eyes, making sure you understand that he means it.

Your breaths stutter, and your eyes water because you realize you do have meaning, you do have purpose. Chan loves you, and he needs you there everyday, he needs you to be there, needs to help and care for you. You want to be there. You want to get up every morning. You want to brush your teeth and feed yourself because you want to be the best version of yourself for him.

“I know you may not want to live for yourself right now, but please, I’m begging you…at least for now, could you live for me?” He asks, begging you to live for him until you can do it for you. You break, leaning in and hugging him.

“I love you. I love you so much, I don’t say it enough. I’ll live for you, I’ll live a hundred lives for you…for you I’d do anything…you mean so much to me.” You cry.

“I love you too baby, so so much, you have no idea…” He wraps his arms around you tight, burying his head in your shoulder. “I’ll always be there for you baby. You are more than enough, and all I want is you…I’ll do anything…”

“I’ll stay with you…for as long as possible.” You whisper, and his hold on you tightens.

After a bit, Chan gently lifts you out of bed, feeding you your first meal of the day, making sure you eat all of it, watching you the whole time, stroking your hair. Chan then starts a bath, helping you relax, running the cloth along your body so gently, as if you would break. You were relaxed, knowing you were safe, sinking into the warmth of the bath and his hands. After drying and changing you, Chan brushed his teeth with you before climbing into bed, wrapping his arms around you.

“I got you…” He whispered, and suddenly, everything was okay, and it always would be with him.

~~~~~

Everything was so warm.

One of each of your hands were on either side of your boyfriend’s head, resting on the couch as you straddled him.

You were in nothing but a hoodie, and he was wearing another one of his own with his pants and boxers shoved down his thighs, hickeys decorated the skin peeking out of his collar. You kept an unwavering and dangerous eye contact with him, breaths coming out in pants. His hands pet up and down your waist, soothing any ache you might feel.

The air smelled like sex and weed, soft music played in the background, and the lights were so low you could only see each other. The light itself was a singular lamp in the corner of Jisung’s living room, which he shared with his 7 other roommates. The roommates in question were all out on spring break, but because this was the last night of said break, you and Jisung decided to head back near campus for some alone time.

You two had smoked from a gorgeous red and orange pipe Jisung got you for your birthday after you suggested fucking after smoking. You and Jisung had talked about it, about having sex under the influence, and both were okay with it and decided to try it. And god was it good.

“Fuck…you’re so good baby…” Jisung breathed out against your mouth, looking down and trying to see his cock disappear between your folds in the darkness.

You whimpered, slowly rising and then sinking back down again. Each stroke took you impossibly higher, adding to your building bliss, and it felt so good. The slowness of it made everything so much hotter, more sensual, more addictive.

“Jisung…” You moaned in his ear, thighs starting to tremble.

“Yeah baby?” He smirked, starting to help by thrusting up into you.

You moaned out, throwing your head back, one hand leaving the couch to grip at his shoulder. Your breathing picked up, hips rocking in desperation.

“Please~” You whimper, other hand coming to grip at the fabric on his chest.

“I got you baby, come on.” He assured, gripping your hips to help you ride him.

You didn’t expect Jisung to be so muscly before you started dating him, as his body was always being drowned in oversized hoodies and tee shirts. Once you guys started getting intimate, and he took off his shirt for the first time, you knew you were done for.

He easily lifted you up on his cock and then let you lower yourself down just to do it again. He grabbed your head, threading his hand through your hair and kissing you, swallowing every sound you let out. The wet sounds echoed through the empty house, the erotic scene added to the ache between your legs.

“Jisung- fuck I’m close~” You choked out, fighting off how bad your legs were shaking.

“Come on baby, give it to me…” He leaned back, sliding his fingers between your bodies to rub at your slick clit.

You gasped out, hips stuttering as you felt your orgasm approach alarmingly fast. You screamed out as your body convulsed with the waves of your orgasm, using all of your remaining energy to ride it out. Because of the added effects of weed, Your orgasm kept going, and the way you were squeezing Jisung made him break, and he spilled inside of you, groaning into your chest.

“Fuck baby.” He grunted as you both rode out your extremely long orgasms, starting to turn painful when it hit the minute mark, tears streaming down your face as your legs shook uncontrollably.

Slowing to a stop, your breaths were shaky, but low and relaxed. You two laid there for who knows how long, just enjoying the warmth of each others bodies and the lax of your limbs.

“I love you baby…” He whispers against your hair, kissing it.

“I love you too…I really don’t wanna move.” You said.

“Hmmm….me too…” He groaned, but you two couldn’t ignore the mess between your legs, so after a long break, you two settled for a warm shower in the bathroom with the lights off, bringing in the LED speaker for the vibes, then got into PJs and went to sleep in each others arms.

~~~~~

You didn’t plan on trying drugs.

Not ever.

That was until you met him. Han Jisung was the infamous drug dealer on campus that somehow still attended your university for his third year. Of the little times he actually attended his classes, he would absolutely reek of weed and was never actually…well…there. Everyone knew Jisung, or at least knew of him, as college students and substances of some kind are bound to clash, but you never really understood what the fuss was about.

That was until you started growing white hairs.

It started little by little, the first one excused as lighting, but you noticed. The stress of your work seemed to pile on, keeping your straight A’s was starting to take a toll on your mental and even physical wellbeing. You turned to everything. Meditation, cupping, yoga, therapy, medication, vitamins, self care routines, you name it. You even socialized.

You hated socializing, hated talking to people, hated the anxiety that crawled up your spine by even passing someone on the sidewalk. You were, to put it short, an introvert. You kept to yourself, never really talked to anybody but your roommate and your best friend who lived in a different city. But that was it. You kept yourself indoors all day and studied, as that was all you ever known. Anxiety was a big problem, and for some reason it became worse as you got older, you never grew out of it. Your solution was to never speak to anyone, but you were getting desperate.

That’s how you ended up at a party. Your roommate suggested you go to a party to socialize, as it could help ease your stress. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Your roommate herself didn’t go, but she had a friend that took you, which was the first socialization hurdle to get over. It was only a little awkward, but you both found something in common to talk about on the ride there.

When you got there, it was all smoke and drinks and so many faces you didn’t know. You told yourself you would get used to it after a while, but you were so wrong. You felt out of place, like an alien that everyone could see past. The eyes around you seemed targeted on you, and with more and more people piling in, you started to feel suffocated.

“Hey, I’m so sorry but…do you think we can leave?” You ask the girl you came with, who seemed to not understand your anxiousness.

“What? Babe just have fun, have a drink or something, come on don’t kill the night.” She joked, but you didn’t laugh.

In fact, that made things worse. You were being a buzz kill, you were ruining things, for everyone. Your heart beat picked up, and you felt the familiar pit in your stomach. You needed to get out of there. You had no support, no friends, nobody understood anxiety, nobody could help you.

All you knew was that you had to escape.

The nearest exit was the front door, at least that’s what you thought it was. Your breath began picking up, so you held it, you were terrified, but even more ferried of everyone around you. Through your jumble of thoughts, a string of words echoed louder.

Don’t make a scene.

Your hand turned the nob, pushing the door open, closing it behind you before you took a breath of fresh- not fresh, it was musty and dry, it smelled like tires and metal. The air was almost damp. You were in a garage. An empty one. Your breaths never slowed, and you grabbed at your chest, trying to calm down.

“You alright?” You heard a voice, looking at where the voice was coming from. It was Jisung. He was there the whole. time. Your breath caught, and your heart beat even faster, he probably thought you were a freak, a weirdo who couldn’t handle a little party without having a meltdown. He was gonna tell everyone, and you would be nothing but a joke.

“Hey!” He raised his voice, snapping you out of your trance of racing thoughts. “It’s okay, I’m the only one in here, do you need anything?” He asked.

He was…handling it? He was handling it like how everyone who knew about your anxiety did. He didn’t laugh or ask what the hell was wrong with you.

“Hey, everything is okay, just breathe.” He said, his face sympathetic, his palms out showing that he was there to help. He was helping you.

You took a deep breath, feeling the cold wet tears that had already fallen. “I’m sorry…” you choked out.

“Nah nah, it’s all good, take your time, s’my garage, you can stay in here.” He reassured.

Your breaths slowed, and you lowered onto the steps of the door, burying your face in your arms.

“Yeah…I get those all the time…panic attacks.” He says, squatting down.

“W-what?” You ask, lifting your head to meet his eyes.

He simply shrugged. “Well, not anymore so much, but I know how it feels.”

“You…have anxiety?” You ask, feeling dumb.

“Yeah…I know right? Stoner who knows practically everyone and shows up to class not giving two shits…but yeah, shit sucks.” He rolls his eyes.

You just nod.

“Take your time, you can lock the door if you want, I was gonna do it anyways, thank god I didn’t, right?” He smiled.

“Yeah…” You raised your brows, great timing. You locked the door, not sure how you would handle it if someone burst in and saw what a mess you were.

“Oooh, Y’know what calmed my nerves whenever I would panic?” Jisung smiled.

“What?” You asked, curious.

“Good ol’ Mary Jane.” He grinned.

“Who’s Mary Jane? Is she a singer?” You figured he was talking about music, which was actually a pretty good coping method.

“Haha, nah, less like who is Mary Jane and more like what…” He fished into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bag of weed. “Some premium reef, only from the best of course.” He smirked.

“Uh- oh…um….I’ve never…” You trailed off.

“Figured…that’s alright, more for me then.” He shrugged.

“Wait-!” You said, surprising yourself.

“Oh?”

“Well…do you really think that’ll help? I’ve been…well I’ve been looking for something to help me with all the stress I’ve been dealing with with school,” You began rambling, walking over to him where he grinded up the dried nuggets to roll his joint on the washing machine. “And I’ve tried literally everything! Yoga, meditation, art, journaling, the list goes on and on! I seriously am starting to become desperate and if you say that what your magical plant can do then…” You caught yourself. “I was rambling…” You looked away in embarrassment.

“Hey, it’s fine, you can keep going if you want.” He smiles.

“Nah…you get my point.”

“Well, I can glorify my shit all I want, but it’s all up to you, and if you have doubts you don’t have to do anything.” He said, focused on rolling the paper around the weed.

“I…I want to, I wanna try it.” You say.

“Well then today’s your lucky day, because premium green,” He licked the paper, sealing it off and twisting the end. “Is coming your way.” He wiggled his brows, making you giggle.

You watched him bring the blunt to his lips, lighting it, the end glowing orange as he inhaled. You leaned against the dryer to your side, just as he did on the washer. Tilting his head up, he blew out smoke in a stream before it fanned out further.

He held out the blunt. “First hit is usually pretty rough, it’ll burn, you sure you’re ready?” He asked, concerned.

“Yeah..” you said, taking the blunt with shaky fingers.

“Just take a very small hit.”

And you did, or so you thought, cause it didn’t help the burning sensation in your chest as soon as you inhaled, making you choke a bit, coughing till tears pricked at the corner of your eyes.

Jisung held a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You alright?”

You just nodded your head.

“The more you take the more relaxed your lungs get, and they won’t burn so much.” He gently took the blunt from your hand, keeping the hand on your shoulder.

You turned back to him, clearing your throat.

He held it out to you. “Wanna try again? No pressure of course.” He said softly.

“Yeah, I wanna try again.” You said taking the blunt and taking another small hit. The smoke made your lungs feel almost itchy, but you held back your cough after exhaling.

“There you go, how do you feel?” He asks.

“Mmm…nothing?” You said.

“Hmm, this is pretty strong, maybe it’s just gonna take some time.” He said, taking a deep inhale, then pushing the smoke out of his mouth and inhaling it through his nose, it looked so cool.

“Woah, how do you do that?” You ask.

“Practicing in front of a mirror,” He chuckled, passing you the blunt. “Getting wayyy too high frim doing it repeatedly.”

You take a hit, just bit longer, holding off on coughing. “Looks cool.” You say as the smoke exits your mouth.

“Yeah? Glad my many smoke sessions payed off.” He grins as you hand him the blunt back. That’s when you start to feel it. It started behind your eyes, just a slight buzz, then it spread a warmth through your body, making your eyelids feel heavy.

You both passed the blunt back and fourth till it was nothing but a stub. Jisung put it out on the laundry machine, which you two were now sat atop.

“Oh yeah, I definitely feel it now…” You say, feeling light and languid, like everything was fine, and serenity left no room for worry.

“Yeah? How do you like it?” He turns to you.

“Really good…like…so good.” You smile, you feel so relaxed, and so stress free.

“Nice…” Jisung said, still looking at you.

“What…?” You smiled.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“What?” Your face flushed, but you just smiled at him.

“AH- I meant plug! I meant to ask if you had a plug…sorry…it’s the weed.” Jisung said, cheeks just as red as yours, laughing softly.

“Oh- uh well, I’ve never smoked weed before so…no.” You nod.

“Oh…right…” Jisung rolled his eyes at his own antics. “Do you…want one?”

“Yeah, sure.” You said.

“Cool, well I’ll be your man then.” He winked. “For weed.” He specified.

You giggled.

And that’s how you two met.

Every time you ordered something, he would stick around a bit, always making small talk or making you laugh at a story or a joke, lingering when he wouldn’t do that to other clients. You didn’t really notice, and you liked Jisung, but soon liking him turned into liking him.

One day, your roommate was out, so you invited him in to smoke together for a bit, and he obviously agreed. You both chatted and laughed, sat on your bed as you smoked out the window. These interactions kept happening, and every time your roommate wasn’t there, Jisung would be. You only smoked with Jisung, as you felt safe doing it with him, and he used that as his excuse to not make you pay. You started really liking Jisung, but figured you were nothing but a client to him, at most a friend.

One day, Jisung invited you to his super top secret smoke spot, it was in the middle of a strip of trees, a giant boulder formation littered with graffiti, and down below was a gorgeous creek.

“Holy shit, this is insane…” You said, looking out inti the trees lining the creek.

“I know right? I’ve always wanted to share this with someone, it feels kinda lonely.” He laughs, standing close to you.

“Wait, you’ve never brought anyone here? What about your best friend? Or your roommates?” You felt…special.

“They don’t get me the way you do…” He looked at you with the most gorgeous eyes, and for a second you forgot how to stand, your foot slipping.

“Shit-!” You would have slipped, but Jisung grabbed you by your waist before you could, pulling you in.

“Jesus, you almost killed yourself!” He smiled, but there was undoubtedly concern behind it.

“Oops…” You smiled, his hands still lingered at your waist. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, just…be careful, okay?” His thumb swiped over your hip before slipping away to grab your hand. “Let’s get down before you slip again, yeah?” He teased.

Your face tinted a shade of pink, following him down the boulders, hand in his, letting him lead the way. When you made it down, his hand didn’t let go of yours, even when you made it to the spot right under the boulder. He sat on the large rock right at the edge of the creek, letting go for your hand to pat at the spot next to him. The rock was large, but small enough that your thighs had to touch for both of you to fit on it.

Jisung took out the blunt. “I made this strain just for you, I’ll think you’ll like it.” He looked at you, face close to yours.

“Really?” Your eyes glistened.

“Yeah…” He nodded.

As the sun set, you two passed the blunt back and fourth, going through a second one until you saw the stars.

“The stars are so pretty…” You said, looking at the stars, but Jisung wasn’t looking up there, he was looking at you. “Don’t you think?” You looked at him, his gaze already fixed on you.

“Yeah…they are…” He said, looking like he was entranced.

“You good? I hope you’re not greening out.” You winced.

“No, greening out wouldn’t feel this good…” His eyes dragged to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

You flushed, but tried to tell yourself you were just seeing things. A silence passed between the two of you, just looking at each other.

“You’re so pretty…” He said, and your breath was stolen from your lungs.

“You’re high…” You said, not sure you heard him right.

“Yeah, I am, but you’re still pretty even when I’m stone cold sober…” He said.

Your high turned even better, the fuzzy feeling in your heart seemed to pulse out and run through the rest of your body in waves.

Jisung leaned forward slowly, and you felt his breath on your lips, it tickled the skin and sent tingles through your face.

“Can I kiss you…?”

“Jisung…you don’t have to ask…” You smiled.

“I might be a drug dealer, but I’m still a gentleman.” He smiled back.

You laughed, leaning in, and the kiss was nothing short of bliss. Your whole body seemed to disappear, everything except your lips, the warmth littered your skin with the familiar buzz and you could feel every movement of the both of your lips. He cupped your face, and it felt like you were floating, his hand making sensations bloom beneath his palm.

You both pulled away after who knows how long. You looked at each other, you saw the stars in his eyes, and you never wanted to look at the sky again.

After that day, he would come over, pick you up, take you somewhere, then brought you back to your place and sometimes smoke. This happened a few times, and he wouldn’t leave without kissing you goodbye, which led you to wonder what you were.

Jisung didn't give you much time to think about that, because late in the afternoon he randomly texted you to come outside, and when you did, he smiled you to his car.

“Ji, this better be quick, I’m freezing.” You whined.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, it’s right here.

He led you to his car, laying his arm around your shoulder. You blushed even though you guys kissed regularly and even did some over the clothes touching once, but he still made you nervous. In the giddy school girl type of way.

He pressed the button on his key, and his trunk opened, balloons popping up, and you almost laughed. On a dollar tree poster board was a carefully made cheesy sign, reading: “will you be my girlfriend?”

You turned to him, a shy smile on your face. Jisung was sweating buckets, avoiding your eyes, you could tell this meant a lot.

You didn’t say anything, simply leaning towards him, hugging him, and he of course hugged you back.

“Is…that a yes?” He asked nervously.

“I would love to be your girlfriend.” You said into his chest.

He sighed in relief. As if you would say no to him. “Thank god…”

You giggled into him, feeling a familiar warmth flood your system, except this felt better than when you got high. “You’re so cheesy…I love it.” You laughed, bringing your face up to kiss him.

Being with him was all the high you needed.

~~~~~

October 18th, 1987

Jisung woke up with the worst headache he had ever experienced, worse than the time his dad put his head through the drywall. Jisung had drank an entire bottle of vodka all by himself, and what that would do to a 19 year old's body could not be good.

Hurling himself off the bed, stumbling around, his body hit walls and a door frame before he made it to the bathroom. Falling to his knees, he retched over the toilet bowl, vomiting anything he might have had in his stomach. Jisung's throat burned from the stomach acid that came up, like he had swallowed shards of glass. He wished Minho was there. Minho would know what to do. Minho would know how to help. Minho would help. Jisung realized he needed Minho more than ever. He was an idiot. Why did he have to chase away one of the only good things in his life?

That was when Jisung looked around, realizing that he drunkenly stumbled into Minho's house in his state of distress. But Minho wasn't there. He wandered into the living room, wondering, hoping that Minho would be sitting there, waiting for him. But Jisung knew that was too much to ask for. Everything would be okay if Minho was right by his side, if Jisung hadn't chased him away.

He needed to find him.

~

Jisung was tired. He hadn't walked anywhere in years, he usually took his skateboard everywhere, but now any skateboard he had was broken. It had been an hour, and Jisung still had no idea what he was doing. How was he supposed to even find Minho? Where could he look?

Before Jisung could think any more, a voice broke his thoughts.

"Jisung!" It was Hyunjin. Jisung sighed in relief, as Hyunjin was one of the only people he had left, and one of the only ones that could help him.

"Hyunjin...oh God.." Jisung hung his shoulders.

Hyunjin noticed the deep, dark eye bags under Jisung's eyes, and he raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Jisung…is everything alright?"

"Hyunjin...I fucked up.." Jisung's voice broke.

"Jisung...I'm so sorry..." Hyunjin looked at his shoes, placing a hand on Jisung's shoulder.

"Hyunjin, have you seen Minho?" Jisung asked. "I need to find him."

"I did..."

"Where? When?! Where did he go?" Jisung asked frantically.

"Jisung." Hyunjin looked serious, and it made Jisung nervous. "Minho left."

Jisung's heart dropped. "What?"

"I'm so sorry Jisung. I don't know what happened, but he was really hurt."

"Fuck...Fuck!" Jisung pulled his hair, stressing out, and Hyunjin pulled him into a hug, knowing how Jisung could shut down.

"I know, I know, it's gonna be okay..."

"I'm such an idiot...I'm so stupid." Jisung started crying.

"I'm so sorry Jisung."

"I pushed him away...I told him..." Jisung couldn't finish his sentence.

"I know..." Hyunjin stroked his hair, cradling his head. It took a bit for Jisung to calm down before Hyunjin spoke up again. "Minho came by...he dropped something off for you."

"What?" Jisung pulled away.

"Come on." Hyunjin walked Jisung to his work, the skate shop. Jisung felt horrible, he knew he was an asshole, and he knew he caused this. He hurt Minho, and he didn't deserve him back.

They entered the shop, the small bell above the door ringing. Hyunjin lead Jisung behind the counter to the back room, where they kept all the skateboards.

"He wanted me to give you this." Hyunjin said, handing him a skateboard. Right, he still needed one. He looked at it, turning it over, looking at the design on the bottom of the board, and he nearly burst into tears. On the bottom of the board, hand painted, was the unmistakable can design of pork soda.

"I need to find him." Jisung said.

"Wait…he left you this too." Hyunjin said, handing Jisung a small, folded piece of paper. Jisung snatched the paper, unfolding it frantically.

Dear Jisung, I'm sorry that I made you uncomfortable, you wont have to deal with me anymore. Here's your board I promised, I hope you like it, thought the design would be funny. You can live in my house, I don't want you to go back to your dad's place, so feel free to stay there as long as you need. -Minho

Jisung's eyes watered, and his body shook as he held back sobs. He felt his whole world crumble around him, like the regret had crushed him under a large boot.

“Jisung…” Hyunjin put a hand on his shoulder.

Jisung moved away, he didn’t want comfort, not from Hyunjin, not from anybody. The only person he wanted was Minho. And he was gone. Forever. He wanted nothing to do with Jisung.

“Jisung, I’m so sorry…” Hyunjin started.

“Did he tell you anything…?” Jisung asked through tears.

“He…he told me everything…he said he didn’t think you would want him to give this to you himself. He said he was leaving town, and he wasn’t coming back. I’m sorry Jisung…” Hyunjin said.

Jisung dropped the board, running his hand through his hair as he turned around, pacing.

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” Jisung sobbed. “Why did I do that? I had…I have feelings for him. Hyunjin…I…I need Minho, I need to get him back…” He sobbed, giving Hyunjin the most desperate look, it was heartbreaking.

“I’m sorry Jisung, I tried but he wouldn’t tell me anything, do you know anybody who knows him?” Hyunjin asked.

Jisung stopped in his tracks. “Yes. I do know, thank you Hyunjin!” Jisung yelled, stomping off.

“Wait!” Hyunjin stopped him. “Don’t forget your board.” He held it out to Jisung.

“Thanks” Jisung took the board, wiping his face dry, and heading out.

The cold air was like a slap in the face, and half way there, the tears started falling again. Jisung thought about everything that had happened with Minho in the past few days, how Minho spoke to him so softly, how he pampered him and took care of him no matter how grubby or roughed up he was. Jisung didn’t realize how much he loved getting that soft side of Minho until it was too late. Way too late. How many chances was he given?

The tears were freezing on his face as the wind whipped brought his hair, the wheels on his new board rolling faster as he pushed. Jisung forgot how much he loved skating, and it was peaceful, well, it could have been, if he wasn’t on a mission to find Minho.

He stopped in front of the familiar building on the other side of town, kicking his board into his hand.

“Shit…what building number was it?” Jisung whispered to himself, thinking back to the little mission he and Minho went on. He stopped in front of a door. 103. Before he could buzz in, he heard his name.

“Jisung!” A familiar voice called, making him jump. It was Felix, carrying a laundry basket, his signature delightful smile on his face.

“Felix…”

Felix’s face dropped when he saw Jisung’s red puffy face that still had fresh tears running down it, his eyebrows curling up in a concerned look. “Jisung? What happened honey?” He was wearing his pink fuzzy coat again.

”Felix…” Jisung’s shoulders bounced as he silently sobbed.

“Aww poor baby, come in.” Felix put a hand around his shoulder, leading Jisung inside with the laundry basket at his hip.

He led Jisung to sit on his couch, putting the laundry basket down. “What happened?” He asked, rubbing Jisung’s back comfortingly.

“I really messed up…I messed up so bad…” Jisung cried into his hands.

“How so?”

“I pushed Minho away, and he left for good…” He sobbed.

Felix got up, coming back a few seconds later with tissues. “I’m gonna get some tea going, and then we can talk, okay?” He handed the tissues to Jisung. “Do you need anything?”

Jisung shook his head, and Felix rounded the corner into his kitchen, out of sight. Jisung realized that he had no idea what he was doing. Felix was Minho’s ex, how could he know where he went? He didn’t know what happened, so Minho obviously didn’t stop by and tell him. Jisung also had nowhere else to go, and Felix was the only person connected to Minho he thought of, so he had to at least try, he was already there.

“Okay,” Felix came back out, sitting on the couch next to Jisung, turning to him. Felix gave him his whole attention. “Lay it all out”

Jisung took a deep breath, steeling himself. “I…really like Minho…a lot…and that scared me, so I drove him away.” Jisung’s voice curled. “I…told him some really shitty things…I…I was such an asshole.”

Felix nodded, rubbing Jisung’s shoulder. “Why were you scared?” He asked.

“I- my dad always drilled it into my head that being gay was disgusting and wrong…and he would beat me…and after I found myself enjoying being around Minho, or acting on my feelings, I felt horrible…I felt scared..”

“I’m so sorry Jisung…do you still live with your dad?” Felix tucked Jisung’s hair behind his ear in a caring, motherly way that made Jisung feel calm and safe.

“No…he almost killed me and…Minho actually got me out, I haven’t seen him since.” Jisung said, looking down.

“Do you plan on going back?”

“No. Never.” Jisung shook his head.

“Then Jisung, you’re free, you’re safe, especially with Minho. You left your dad, and he can’t hurt you anymore, and Minho will always protect you, so you don’t have to be afraid of your feelings anymore.” Felix said, lifting Jisung’s chin, then petting his head.

“It’s just…hard to get his face out of my head whenever I feel anything towards Minho.”

Felix nodded. “Well then you just have to trust him, and yourself. You can’t spend your whole life running from someone who can’t hurt you.”

That sentence seemed to play on loop in Jisung’s head. He didn’t have to run. He didn’t need to run when there was nobody chasing him. His father wasn’t around anymore, and certainly wouldn’t leave the house to find him. Jisung was safe. Jisung could feel whatever he wanted, not what his father wanted him to feel. Jisung never hated how he felt, he was afraid because all he associated being gay with was getting another beating. Jisung was afraid of his father, not his feelings. And his father couldn’t hurt him anymore.

“Jisung, this prison you’re trapped in doesn't exist, your father just convinced you it is. Don’t sacrifice your happiness, don’t let your father win.” Felix stroked his thumb over Jisung’s shoulder.

Jisung burst into tears, and Felix pulled him into a hug. Felix let Jisung cry for as long as he wanted, rubbing his back, reassuring him that he was safe. For someone who he met once, he felt so safe in his arms. He would love to call Felix a friend. Jisung pulled back after a while, his sobs had died already, and all that was left was some sniffling.

“I’m gonna bring you some tea.” Felix got up, walking to the kitchen, coming back a minute later with two cups.

Jisung let out an airy laugh. “Cats?” He looked at the mugs, one was pink, and one was black.

“Yeah, these were actually supposed to be a gift to Minho.” Felix said.

“Really?”

“Kinda, I was gonna give him the black one so I could keep the pink one. I know he loves cats a lot so I figured he might want it, but he cut contact before I could.”

“I think I remember him saying something about that…” Jisung smiled.

“Yeah, obsessed with them, it’s kinda funny.”

“I do remember seeing food bowls outside, maybe he feeds the strays….” Jisung said.

“You’ve been to his house!?” Felix sounded surprised.

“Yeah?” Jisung was confused.

“He never had me over, ever, he would always insist on coming over to my place!” Felix smiled. “Wow, he must be in love with you or something, I knew it!”

Jisung smiled, but it died down. “I doubt that he feels that way…at least now.”

“Jisung, his feelings aren’t just gonna go away like that, he can’t just forget about you.”

“How do you know that?” He asks.

“Because I’ve literally never met someone that matched him so well before, and the way he treats you sounds like he really trusts you. And if not, you still have to try, you need to get him back.” Felix says.

“How? I have no idea where he is…I don’t think he’s coming back. Would you know where he is?” Jisung didn’t believe in a god, but he was praying to whoever would listen.

“I wouldn’t, I’m sorry Jisung, if I knew I would tell you, but me and Minho didn’t really know much about each other.”

“Okay…” Jisung said.

“Feel free to stay as long as you need or ask me anything, or we can talk some more, I’d like to be called a friend.” Felix says, and Jisung felt some part of his heart heal.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Jisung said.

~

Jisung and Felix spent the next two hours talking, sometimes about themselves, sometimes about Minho, and sometimes just random things that would bring the mood up. It was now dark outside, and Felix looked out the window.

“Are you staying anywhere?” Felix asked. “I know you left your dads, you can stay here for the night if you need, it’s pretty late.”

Jisung looked out the window. “Actually, Minho left a note saying I could stay in his house as long as I want, he didn’t want me living with my dad even after everything I said to him…”

“Jisung, no matter what you said, Minho still cares about you.” Felix set down his empty mug.

“I’ll be okay, thank you, for everything.” Jisung says, getting up from the couch.

“Of course, come see me if you need anything, okay? I hope you find him.” Felix brings Jisung into a hug.

“Thank you…” Jisung hugs him back.

Felix walked Jisung out, all the way until he saw him ride away on his skateboard, waving goodbye. Jisung felt refreshed and horrible at the same time. Talking to Felix made Jisung feel a lot better, knowing he had another person to be there for him, but he also still had no idea if he’d ever see Minho. He didn’t know if he would ever get to tell Minho how he felt, how much he regretted saying all those things. And if he did, would Minho forgive him? Did Minho still have feelings for him?

~~~~~

October 27th, 1987

Jisung was always sleeping through the morning. Every. Single. Day. He slept through the afternoon, and even into the evening. Once the sun went down, Jisung came up. He hardly took care of himself, and he seemed to be going through cigarettes and alcohol more than he went through any kind of meal at all. He kept in contact with Felix, and would come over to talk or decompress, but that only took him so far. Hyunjin was also voicing his concerns, which Jisung ignored and brushed off, telling Hyunjin he was coping, which was a big fat lie.

Yesterday, Jisung introduced Hyunjin to Felix, he had a feeling they would get along, and they did. It made him feel great to know that two of his closest friends got along.

It had been more than a week, and Jisung felt like a part of him was missing. Jisung knew the way he treated Minho was unforgivable, and that he was given so many chances to change, but he waited too long to realize. He would sleep all day and then skate all night. Sometimes he would skate aimlessly, sometimes he would skate to Felix’s house, but one time he went to another place where he thought might lead him to Minho.

Three days ago he went to BamBam’s, it was one of his first thoughts, but after being at that party and seeing the gun, he was reluctant to go, but then again, he did get the gun from Felix, who Jisung trusted with his life. It couldn’t be too bad, right? Jisung ended up seeing Seungmin there, which was a huge shock, and he gave him an update on everything. Seungmin was sympathetic about it, and ended up getting Jisung to BamBam, who turned up empty handed. That was when he simply gave up.

Jisung became depressed. He stopped waiting for Minho, stopped looking, he just decided to sit in his own misery. Jisung figured that was what he deserved for treating Minho like shit, what he got for hurt in him and toying with his feelings. Jisung was gonna live the rest of his life sulking, wishing he could turn back time to when he was happy with Minho. Maybe in a different universe they could be happy together.

That was until tonight.

It was 3am, and Jisung was ready to turn in for the night. Heading to the house on his board, Jisung saw something in the driveway. Squinting, he made out the object, and his heart stopped, along with his skateboard.

It was a motorcycle. Not just any motorcycle. It was Minho’s motorcycle. Minho was back. Minho was there.

Jisung picked up his board, his legs acting without even thinking, sprinting toward the house. His chest heaved as he scrambled up the stairs, yanking the door open with so much force that it almost flew off the hinges. He barely closed it before he turned into the kitchen, where he saw the silhouette of the man who he’s been yearning for.

“Minho…you’re back…what are you doing here?” Jisung said, letting the words slip out through rough pants, the adrenaline flooding his system.

“I can’t come to my own house?” He asked, not turning around.

“Right…” Jisung said softly, feeling the floor below him start to collapse. He wasn’t here for Jisung. This was his house. Jisung was probably intruding. “I’m sorry…I’ll leave.”

“I didn’t tell you to leave.” He said so lightly that Jisung almost wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for the deafening silence that filled the house.

Jisung froze. Did Minho want him there? What did he want Jisung to do? “Okay…” Jisung said.

Minho stood there in silence, and it seemed to stretch on for miles. Jisung realized this was his chance. He wanted to tell Minho how he felt for so long, and now it was his chance. Jisung had to do this, this was his one and only chance. Jisung couldn’t handle losing Minho again.

“Minho…god I’m so sorry.” He started, then realized that what Minho deserved was all of what Jisung felt, not just sorry. “Minho…I’m so fucking in love with you…”

“Stop.” Minho said, the coldness in his voice sent Jisung tumbling off the edge, his adrenaline stopping right then and there, and he was plunged into a sea of dread.

“What..?” Jisung said shakily.

“I’m not here so you can play with my feelings again…” Minho still hadn’t turned around.

“I’m not playing with your feelings, I’m telling you mine. I’m serious.” Jisung took a step, sounding more and more desperate.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t expect it, I don’t expect anything from you, but I just need you to hear me out…” Jisung pleaded. Minho stayed silent, so Jisung took it as a go ahead. “I can’t be hurt by my father anymore. I’m not afraid of him, and I can’t let him control me through everything he’s done. You asked what I was gonna listen to,” The tears approached faster than expected.

“Jisung…”

“I’m listening to my heart now. I know it’s way too late, but I need you to know that I know what real, I know the difference between what I feel and what my father made me feel. I was such an asshole to you when all you did was give me everything, and you gave me so many chances to be better for you, but I failed.” Jisung started full on crying.

“Jisung…”

“And I know you hate me, that’s fine, I deserve it. You’re gonna leave, I know, but…I just need you to know that…I fell for you so hard..but I’m just a coward…”

“Jisung.”

“You were right, I’m a coward, I’m selfish, I was in denial, I know what I feel and I know I feel it for you and you only, I know that now.” Jisung was shaking, looking down at his fidgety hands.

“Jisung!”

“Everything you did for me…I see it now. You’re so sweet and caring, and you gave me so much kindness I never earned. I’m sorry you had to meet me-.”

Jisung was cut off mid sentence, physically unable to keep talking because something had blocked his lips. It was another pair of lips. Minho’s lips. Everything around Jisung stopped and then disappeared, his whole crumbling world vanished, and was replaced by a pure white glow. He closed his eyes, leaning into that familiar bliss he felt whenever he kissed Minho. He could stay there forever, he wanted to so bad. Jisung felt like he was floating, like all the weight he had been carrying simply floated away, he didn’t have a worry in the world.

Minho pulled back, still cradling Jisung’s face. “Do you ever stop talking?”

Jisung stared at Minho, taking in his handsome face, the face he couldn’t stop staring at when he first met him. Minho was smiling, but he was also crying. Jisung registered that Minho kissed him, and his eyes widened. He didn’t even realize Minho turned around from how much his thoughts were spiraling, and yet he seemed to stop them instantly with a kiss.

“Was that a pity kiss?” Jisung asked, feeling like he was gonna burst all over again. Minho simply wanted him to stop feeling sorry for himself so he can let him down easy.

“What?” Minho laughed, his eyes still glossy and red.

Jisung didn’t find it funny, sniffling. “You kissed me because you’re leaving…”

“No Jisung. I’m not leaving you. I kissed you because I wanted to, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I didn’t ask if you even wanted it.” Minho said.

“Of course I wanted it. Minho…I’m serious about what I said.”

“How do I know you’re not gonna run off again?” He asked.

“I won’t, I promise. How can I prove it to you?”

“I don’t know Jisung.”

“If I do, you really can’t forgive me. Don’t.”

“Jisung…even if I don’t, I can’t just…stay away from you…” Minho sighs. “That’s why I came back…I was so hurt…but it hurt even more without you there…” Minho’s tears were coming back.

“Fuck…Minho I’m so sorry, I hurt you so bad…you don’t deserve that…I was such an idiot.” Jisung bit his lip to stop his tears, this wasn’t about him. “If I leave, which I won’t, I’ll never come back, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I don’t deserve you, and I know that, and you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

“Well then…I’m begging you Jisung…just stay with me. Promise me you’re telling the truth.” Minho was pleading with him, begging him to just love him. But that was all Jisung could do. Love Minho. That’s why he was torn apart when he left.

“Minho, you don’t have to ask this of me. I promise, on everything and everyone I love, I won’t leave you again.” Jisung looks him deep in the eye. “I didn’t mean it when I said I felt nothing. Because that all I do. Feel. You make me feel happy, safe, cared for. All I do is feel. For you.”

“Okay Jisung.” Minho said, then leaned in and kissed Jisung again, bringing him to that safe little slice of heaven. Minho swiped his thumb over Jisung’s cheek comfortingly, and Jisung out his hands on each side of Minho’s ribs.

Minho pulled back. “I came here for you, Jisung. I can’t just forget about you, even if it might not be the best decision.”

“It probably wasn’t, I don’t deserve another chance, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad you’re here.” Jisung smiled.

Minho took in a breath, staring at Jisung where he held his face. “I’m in love with you too, Jisung, if you couldn’t already tell.” He laughed. “I love everything about you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I do anyways…” He rested his chin on Jisung’s head, wrapping his arms around him, and they both relaxed into each other’s embrace.

“I love the board…and that you painted it…” Jisung said into Minho’s shoulder.

“Yeah…thought it would be funny…plus it’s something that connected me to you.” He admitted.

“Wait…so did you paint that on your lighter because of me? You did!” Jisung pulled back with a smile.

“Yeah…when I met you and saw the can it reminded me of when I first moved here, then after that day on the roof I always associated you with it.” He smiled. “I painted it on my lighter because I every time I saw pork soda I thought of you, and I always carry around my lighter.”

“What…?”

“Yeah.”

“Minho…you really thought about me that much?” Jisung could cry again.

“It was hard not to, you made life interesting again. When we had that first conversation on the roof, I felt like i was drawn to you, like everything you said was the most important thing ever. Jisung, you might have some issues, but you have drive, you have passion, and you just seemed to understand me more than anybody has. So yeah, I fell for you, so fucking hard. I just wanted to know more and more about you, I knew I was hurting myself, but I couldn’t stop. Something about you makes me want to be a better person.” Minho explained.

“Minho, I feel the same way. I want to be better, to you and myself. You see right through me, and it was scary, but I’m not afraid anymore. You just…understood me, and you made me feel so…cared for. You didn’t care that I was rough, or loud, or aggressive, you still treated me like I was the most important thing in your life. I just realized too late how much I feel about you.” Jisung was not expecting his night to go like this.

“Well…it wasn’t too late for me. I can’t stay away from you.”

~

Minho and Jisung talked for about an hour, sharing their feelings, having a real, genuine talk instead of bouncing around the topic. Jisung felt so light, so happy, so content. Minho didn’t feel any different from that either. At some point, they ended up on the bed, laying on their side, facing each other. Jisung had made some jokes, one of them steering the conversation to a certain place…

“I seriously was gonna drop to my knees and start begging you.” He laughed softly.

“Yeah? What a shame, I would have liked to see that.” Minho smirked.

“Hey, keep your dirty thoughts to yourself.” Jisung crossed his arms, throwing a playful sneer at Minho.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it when I talk like that.” Minho's voice dropped low and sultry.

Jisung was blushing so hard. “Shut up.” He pouted, looking away.

Minho grabbed Jisung’s face, making him look at him. “You wanna say that again?” He smirked.

“You know what?” Jisung sat up. “Yeah, I said shut up.” Minho lunged at him, and they wrestled around the bed, laughing and giggling until Minho had him pinned beneath him, completely defenseless.

“Okay okay! Truce truce truce!” Jisung laughed.

Minho laughed too, and Jisung felt the vibrations of it in his chest. “Yeah? What happened to that fire huh?” Minho teased.

“It’s still there…” He smiled.

“Sureeee” Minho smiled back, before lowering his head to kiss Jisung, one hand dropping to his waist. Jisung kissed him back, bringing his hands to the back of his head, running his fingers through his hair.

“Missed this,” Minho said between kisses. “missed you…”

”God me too…” Jisung said, some of it muffled by Minho’s mouth. It wasn’t long before they both ran out of air, separating to gasp, taking in oxygen.

“Minho…” Jisung said, lips swollen and red.

“I know baby…” He said, going back in to kiss Jisung again, but this time with more passion. Jisung sighed into the kiss, slightly tugging Minho’s hair, which earned him a quiet groan.

It only took a few more seconds of making out for Minho to flip them over, making Jisung straddle his lap as he sat up, going back in for a kiss. Only this time, he swiped his tongue over Jisung’s bottom lip, asking for entrance, which he happily parted his lips, welcoming the intrusion of his tongue into his mouth. Jisung softly moaned as Minho explored his mouth with his tongue, and he could help but press himself down on Minho, which made him groan in pleasure. Jisung was on cloud nine, but was also lit ablaze, his whole body on fire, the tension between them had been building.

Jisung rolled his hips down, and Minho gasped, feeling the way the both of them grew in their pants. Jisung whined into his mouth, then Minho parted his lips from his, reaching down to lift his shirt over his head. Jisung’s eyes raked over his body, sure he's seen Minho before, but it didn’t change the way it made him a whole new type of horny. Jisung ran his hands over Minho’s body, fingers exploring the ink across his skin, making him shiver at every new touch.

“Fuck, Jisung…you make me wanna do such bad things to you.” Minho sucked in a breath, hands gripping Jisung’s waist like an anchor to reality.

“Bad bad things, or good bad things?” Jisung asked, lips ticking the shell of Minho’s ear when he leaned down.

“Well…which one do you want?” He asked.

“Either one, I’ll take anything you give me…” Jisung whispered, the words going straight to Minho’s aching cock.

“Don’t say shit like that…” Minho warned, his grip growing impossibly tighter.

“Why not?” Jisung asked, fanning the flames.

“Cause it makes me wanna fuck you.” Now it was Jisung’s turn to feel his cock twitch.

“If I got on my knees and begged you, would you?” He bit his lip, hands gripping Jisung’s swiftly popping a button on Minho’s jeans.

“You’re really testing my patience.”

“You love it…” Jisung smirks.

“Yeah…I fucking love it…” Minho says before lunging back into a heated kiss. Both of their cocks were painfully hard in their pants that continued to become painfully tighter. Minho’s hands wandered down until he was grabbing at Jisung’s ass through his pants.

“Jisung…” Minho breathed out, lips connected to Jisung’s by a string of saliva.

“Hm?” Jisung asked, starting to kiss down Minho’s neck.

“I want you to ride me…can you do that?” That made him freeze. “I have all the stuff…you don’t have to if you don’t want to…”

“I want to…so bad.” Jisung pulled him in to another kiss. He couldn’t help but to reach into Minho’s pants to squeeze him through his boxers, making him tilt his head back.

“Fuck…Jisung, you’re fucking trouble…” He said between pants.

“Yeah? Are you gonna punish me?” Jisung asks, feigning innocence.

“You’re asking for it.” He warns.

“No, I’m asking if I can take your cock out.” That made Minho snap.

He flipped them over, Jisung yelped from being thrown around, and now Minho was on top, abandoning the idea of Jisung riding him. No. He was gonna fuck his brains out. “I warned you, didn’t I?” He started undoing the rest of his pants.

“I thought you wanted me to ride you?” He tilted his head.

“No, I’m gonna fuck you, and you’re gonna take it like you said you would.” His eyes were dark. Scarily dark. Jisung was in for a treat. He pulled his pants down, kicking them off, now only in his boxers above the younger, hands running under his shirt and up his stomach. Jisung shivered at the touch, his shirt riding up where Minho was lifting it.

Minho then kissed his stomach, making him shiver. He trailed his lips up, lifting Jisung’s shirt higher and higher before he took it all the way off. Minho smirked, throwing the shirt on the floor somewhere before dipping his head, and licking Jisung’s nipple. Jisung gasped, feeling Minho’s warm tongue swirl around his sensitive bud, his eyes locked on his as he lazily lolled his tongue over the pert nipple.

“Fuck Minho…” He moaned, and the sound was music to Minho’s ears. Minho then caught Jisung off guard, biting his pec, making him yelp. “Minho!”

“What? Didn’t like that? Should have listened…” He tuts, kissing the nipple he hadn’t abused yet. He took in into his mouth, sucking it, and Jisung whined.

Jisung squeezed himself through his pants, and Minho yanked his wrist away. “Uh uh, you don’t get to touch yourself.” Minho teased, and Jisung was about to explode.

“It’s my dick…I should be allowed to touch it…” Jisung whined like a child.

“No…this is mine.” Minho said, squeezing Jisung, earning a pathetic moan before returning to abusing his nipples.

Thankfully, Minho decided it was time to give the boy some mercy, giving him one last bite before undoing his pants, tugging them down and off. They were now both in only their boxers. Jisung had become a whiny mess, squirming below Minho, who was looking at him with a predatory grin.

“Are you gonna behave, Jisung?” He asked.

“Yes, I promise, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good…” He whimpered, desperate to feel Minho.

“Still leaking in your cute little boxers…” He teased, running a hand over the outline of his definitely leaking tip.

“Shit…” He laughed, looking down at his underwear, which once again had a wet patch. Instead of quipping back, he tugged Minho’s waistband, bringing his hips to his. They both moaned as they felt their cocks grind together.

“Fuck baby…you feel so good…” Minho breathed out.

“It’ll feel even better when you’re inside of me…” Jisung teased, rutting his hips up into Minho’s, making him gasp.

“Fuck…” Minho couldn’t wait anymore, he crawled off of Jisung, rummaging through his dresser, finding a few things. He came back, putting the bottle of lube and a few condoms right beside Jisung’s head. Hooking his fingers into his underwear, he tugged them off of Jisung, tossing them next to his other clothes on the floor before settling between Jisung’s legs. Jisung looked down at his cock, red and leaky, sat on his stomach, leaking pre onto it.

“So pretty…your cock is so pretty baby, you know that?” Minho says, taking Jisung’s cock into his hand, stroking it, making him moan and whimper. “Try to relax, okay? I’m gonna prep you.

Jisung nodded. “I trust you…”

Minho reached by Jisung’s head to retrieve the lube, popping the cap open to squeeze a bit of it on his fingers, rubbing it between his thumb to warm it up. Looking down at his hole, Minho hummed in satisfaction, pressing a finger to the right rim. Jisung jumped at the initial touch, but relaxed when he remembered that Minho said.

“Whats your safe word?” He asked, his finger circling Jisung’s hole.

“Grass.” Jisung said sharply, it came out whiny from how horny he was though.

“Grass?” Minho laughed.

“I’m allergic.” He smiled, and that made Minho laugh more.

“You’re so cute…” He said before pressing his finger into Jisung, making him gasp.

Jisung’s back arched off the bed, the intrusion felt odd, but not bad. “Holy fuck…” His hands gripped the sheets beside him.

“I know baby, just relax, I got you, if you wanna stop, just at me know.” He stroked Jisung’s thigh.

“I’m okay, please, keep going.” He whined, and Minho let out a breath in amusement.

Minho started pulling his finger out before pushing it back in, making Jisung gasp. He then crooked his finger, hitting that sweet spot inside of him that made his cock jump.

Jisung gasped on a moan, legs threatening to close, but Minho held them open. “Holy shit Minho…” he whined.

“That feel good baby?” He asked.

“So good…” He moaned. There was a stretch, but Jisung didn’t seem to mind.

Minho continued to push into Jisung, slowly fingering him before adding a second finger. Jisung could feel the stretch, the slight burn, and it felt so fucking good. Minho scissored his fingers into and out of Jisung, and the whole new sensation of pleasure was better than any time he had ever jerked off.

“Your fingers feel so good…fuck…” Jisung moaned.

“Yeah? You want another one?” Minho thrusted his fingers into Jisung harder.

“Yes! Please baby…” Jisung gasped out, his moan ringing out.

“Yeah? My fingers feel that good?” He asked.

Minho added a third finger, curling them up into that sweet spot, making Jisung gasp. “Fuck I’m close- don’t stop…” Jisung moaned out.

“No you’re not, you’re not coming on my fingers, not tonight.” Minho then pulled his fingers out, making Jisung whine. “Don’t pout, you’ll get what you want, but tonight you’re coming from my cock, got it?”

“Yes.” Jisung moaned, remembering he was gonna be fucked.

“Good…” Minho pushed all three fingers in again, thrusting them in and out, listening and watching as Jisung lost his mind. “There you go, just hold it baby, I’ve gotta stretch you out before I fuck you properly.”

“F-fuck…feels so good.” Jisung’s eyes rolled back, he had to take deep breaths to relax, holding off on coming without permission.

A few more agonizing thrusts later, Minho slowed to a stop. “I think you’re ready.” Minho then crawled off, pulling his boxers down, getting back on top of Jisung. “Whats your safe word?” He asked again, grabbing the condom.

“Grass.” Jisung said, he didn’t think he would need his safe word, not now or ever.

“Good job baby, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” Minho said, stroking Jisung’s thigh as he rolled the condom onto himself.

“Fuck…you’re so much bigger than me…” Jisung says.

“That’s what you’re thinking about? Baby, your dick size is not anything to worry about, it’s perfect the way it is.” Minho laughs softly.

“No, I mean yours is big, like, is it gonna…fit?” He asks.

“Oh baby, that’s what you’re worried about? Okay, i see. Don’t worry, if anything feels wrong, you have to tell me, then I’ll stop, that’s all you gotta do. I stretched you out pretty good, you should be fine for the most part. It will feel a little weird, but the first time usually takes just a little adjustment, then it’ll feel so good, but you can stop at any time, okay?”

“Yeah, okay, I got it, thank you.” Jisung says, laying all the way down, relaxing.

“it’ll be easier if you just relax, okay? You can do that for me right?” He asks.

“Yeah, I can relax.”

“Good.” Minho squeezed lube onto his hand, then covered his protected cock in it, making sure it was fully covered before pressing his tip to Jisung’s asshole. Minho checked to see if Jisung had any second thoughts, and in seeing none, he pressed in. He managed to press the whole tip in before a hand on his forearm stilled him.

“Is everything okay baby?” He asked, speak starting to form as he fought to stay still, Jisung was just so tight around him.

“Yeah, just need to adjust…” Jisung breathed.

“That’s okay baby, just let me know when you’re ready.” He said. Minho stroked Jisung’s thigh, and he felt Jisung relax some more.

“You can move.” Jisung said, and Minho pressed in more.

“I know, I know baby…” Minho said, watching Jisung’s face, pushing deeper until he was fully in.

“So…full..” Was all Jisung could say, his eyes rolling back.

“Fuck…you’re so tight..” Minho groaned.

“You can move…” Jisung said after a while, and Minho didn’t waste a second, pulling out till the tip before pushing all the way back in, and Jisung mewled out. Jisung had never been as close to heaven as right now, Minho filled him so good he never wanted him to pull out. As Minho’s hips thrusted into him, he felt that spot get hit again, deeper, harder, and sounds that he had never made before were being torn out of his throat.

“Jisung…you feel so fucking good…” Minho moaned.

“Jesus Christ.” Jisung whimpered, his cock aching where it sat between them. Minho continued pistoning his cock into Jisung, the sound of the wet slapping bouncing off the walls. They both moaned out, spouting dirty things to each other. Minho lowered his head, latching onto Jisung’s neck, sucking deep dark marks into the skin, biting down on his throat, making him gasp. Minho held Jisung by the hips, thrusting faster into him, hitting the spot harder. Jisung gripped the sheets below him tighter, head thrashing around on the pillows.

“Minho- fuck- I’m gonna cum…” Jisung whimpered as his legs started shaking.

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum on my cock?” Minho asks.

”Yes…god yes please, don’t stop- don’t stop…” Jisung moaned out, gasping as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Minho didn’t let up, he even sped up, hitting it harder. “Come on baby, give it to me.” He growled, feeling himself start to approach the edge.

“Fuckfuckfuckohm-nhominhominhominho” At a certain point, Jisung could only moan out Minho’s name, because that’s all he could think about. It wasn’t long before he spilled over, his cum shooting all over his stomach, his vision going white.

“Shit- fuck your squeezing me so good..” Minho moaned, his hips stuttering. Jisung was getting overstimulated, tears pricking in his eyes, he looked so fucked out, and that was what pushed Minho. Three more thrusts, then he was filling out the condom around his cock, stilling inside of Jisung, and slumping forward as the lax hit his body.

Minho caught his breath, kissing Jisung’s forehead. “Baby?”

“mm?” That was all Jisung could force out.

Minho laughed. “That good? Yeah…that was pretty amazing…” He breathed out, chest heaving. He crawled off of Jisung, going to the bathroom to discard the condom, coming back with a damp towel.

“You back to reality yet?” He asked. Jisung was prepared for the towel this time, humming at the feeling. Minho wiped him off gently, the layer of sweat covering his body made him look ethereal.

“You’re so beautiful…” He said without thinking.

“Haha, thank you.” Minho smiled, brushing stray hairs out of Jisung’s eyes.

Minho went back into the restroom to clean himself off before coming back, getting boxers and a shirt, giving the shirt and one pair of boxers to Jisung, and putting the other pair of boxers on himself. Jisung slowly started dressing himself, his limbs felt languid and numb, like they were turned to jello. Minho noticed and decided to help, slipping the shirt over his head and then pulling up the boxers he managed to get up to his knees.

Minho laid Jisung down, then got into bed beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Jisung?” He asked.

“Yeah?” Jisung lifted his lids, feeling that post orgasm bliss spread through his body.

“Do you wanna go out with me?”

Jisung laughed. “You ask me that after fucking me senseless?”

“Oops…” He says, not sounding sorry at all.

“I’d love to, I am pretty in love with you after all.” He smiled.

“Good, cause you’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.” Minho snuggled closer to him, kissing his shoulder, then his hair.

Jisung was finally falling asleep with peace in his mind, and there was no room for any doubts or negativity, it was just him and Minho, and that was all he needed.

~~~~~

October 16th, 1987

Jisung felt off. Weird. Empty.

He thought once he made up with his best friend, things would be okay again. Jisung making up with Hyunjin did help a lot, but that only went so far. Hyunjin has been with Jisung through everything for the past three days, they both need each other and Hyunjin is a big help, but something seems to be missing.

Hyunjin was working, but nobody entered the skate shop this early in the morning, so Jisung was talking to him as he stood behind the counter, ready if a customer did come in.

“Jisung, if you aren’t gonna take my advice, then stop complaining.” Hyunjin scolded.

“But it’s not that easy…” Jisung pouted, hunched over the counter.

“Literally what could go wrong if you talk to him?” Hyunjin asks.

“I don’t know…but every time I do something around him I end up hating it…”

“Do you really hate it? Or do you hate when you feel like it’s ‘wrong’.” Hyunjin did air quotes. After Jisung told Hyunjin about the kiss, he didn’t judge him, didn’t look at him weird, didn’t call him names, he was totally okay with it. Thank god.

“I don’t know…one second all I wanna do is be around him and then…then I feel disgusted…”

“With him? Or you…?” Hyunjin asked, and Jisung knew the answer to that.

“I just don’t see a point…” Jisung sighs. “Every time I feel good around him…something tells me it’s wrong…”

“But is that you thinking it’s wrong, or is it everyone else feeding that into your brain?”

“I…” Jisung thought about it, but the more he thought about it, the more scared he became. “I don’t know…”

“Just…go see him, the least you owe him is an explanation, don’t leave him in the dark.” Hyunjin looked down at Jisung, and he nodded. “And if not, then stop talking about it. But I doubt that’s what you want, you miss him, Jisung.”

~

Later on, Jisung said goodbye to Hyunjin, making his way to Minho’s house. On the walk there, he thought about his feelings for Minho, and why his brain was so against his heart. Jisung was so conflicted about his feelings that he didn’t even know what he wanted, or what he was gonna say to Minho. Hyunjin was right, he owed Minho, for so much, he saved his life more than once. As he neared his house, he felt anxious, but not the dreadful kind, more of a fear that maybe Minho didn’t want to see him.

Did Minho want to see him?

It was too late, cause in front of his porch, tuning up his bike, sat Minho. He raised his head before Jisung could have any second thoughts. He looked upset, and that felt worse than anything.

“M-Minho…” Jisung sputtered, not sure what to say.

Minho just stared at him, waiting, he was doing this on purpose.

“Minho…I’m sorry…I’m…I’m just so confused…” He looks at his shoes, and suddenly he can’t stop his mouth. “I-I’m difficult- a-and confusing, and I run away when things aren’t convenient for me anymore. I’m selfish. I take and take and never give, and you don’t deserve that. You can hate me if you want but…I couldn’t just…stay away…” Jisung was practically shaking, staring at the ground as the silence stretched on.

“You missed me too?” Minho smiles, almost sadly, and Jisung lets out a wet laugh.

“Yeah…I hope Hyunjin never mentions how much I complained to him…”

”Come in Jisung.” Minho gets up.

They step into the house, and Minho’s place has a familiarity to it that feels warm, it feels kind. They don’t exchange words, but Minho puts his tools away, washing his hands in the kitchen with Jisung trailing right behind him. Drying his hands, he leans against the counter, hands now on either side of the sink.

“Jisung.”

“Yeah?” Jisung was nervous.

“Why’d you kiss me…?” He asks. Jisung forgot that he was the one who initiated the kiss, just to run away.

“I don’t know…”

“Jisung don’t bullshit me.” Minho says plainly.

Silence.

“I just…wanted to kiss you…”

“Then why did you run?” He finally turns around. “Are you here to play with my feelings?” His eyes were glossy.

Jisung’s eyes widened, he realized he hurt Minho.

“I…suddenly…I just felt wrong…” Jisung looked down.

“Did it feel wrong to kiss me?” Minho asks.

“Minho…I liked the kiss, okay?" Jisung trails, looking at his foot which swayed side to side as he leaned against the counter. "…that was the problem.” Jisung finally laid his cards on the table, his voice breaking.

“Whats wrong with liking it?”

“I don’t know…I guess my brain keeps screaming bullshit.”

“Well I wish your heart was as loud as you.” Minho smiles, laughing softly.

Jisung smiles.

”Me too.”

~

Minho and Jisung were sat on the bed, facing each other, just talking about life. Minho and Jisung started talking about their feelings again, yet they were both still leaving important parts out. At some point, the eye contact grew fond, their eyes sparkling, and the atmosphere changed.

“What about you Jisung? What’s your biggest dream?” The conversation was getting a bit cheesy, but it didn’t stop them from giving each other their full attention.

“I…don’t really have one. I’ve never made any plans for my life, I’ve just been waiting to fuck it up so bad that I can’t do anything.” Jisung says, still looking at Minho, who grew quiet.

For a bit, they stayed quiet, just staring at each other, something changed in the air, again. Jisung looked at Minho, deep in thought, and Minho just let him. Jisung looked into his eyes like he was trying to see into his soul. “Jisung, what’s occupying that brain of yours?” Minho says, leaning closer. This reminded of Jisung of the dock, and how Minho said 'that pretty head of yours', how his heart felt like a bunch of little butterflies fluttered their way out.

“What am I thinking about?” Jisung felt that same feeling he felt at the dock, like he was being pulled toward Minho. It was scary, but he let it happen. Jisung thought about everything he did with Minho, thinking about how happy he was at those times. Minho had some of the most vulnerable conversations with him, yet he didn’t feel intruded on. But one thing was off. Minho kissed Jisung back that night, and others have hinted that they think he has feelings for him, but he never got anything from Minho himself.

“Yeah.” Minho nodded. The tension seemed to crackle.

“Well…I was actually thinking that I wanna know what you’re thinking.” Jisung turned closer toward Minho, his knee bumping his thigh, warmth spreading from the point of contact. Neither made a move to pull back.

“You wanna know what I’m thinking about?” Minho asks, eyes darting down to Jisung’s lips. Jisung didn't miss that.

“Yes.” Jisung breathed out, swallowing hard. He wanted to know so bad. What did Minho feel?

“Why don’t I say it then?” Minho tilted his head, Jisung felt his heart flutter, realizing all these weird feelings he's been feeling in his chest around Minho wasn’t nerves or fear. It never was. Now, Jisung has never wanted to know something so bad.

“I want you all the time.” He whispered that last part, leaving his lips parted, and Jisung couldn't stop himself from looking at them.

Jisung gasped softly. It was confirmed, Minho liked Jisung, desired him. Jisung's face was tinted red as he felt the heat crawl up his neck. Jisung always felt like everything around him was trying to attack him, but in that moment, Minho simply silenced everything, protecting Jisung inside their own shared bubble.

“Jisung…what are you gonna listen to? Your brain…?" Minho leaned even closer, brushing some hair out of Jisung's face, his other hand gripping the fabric on his thigh. "Or your heart…?”

“You.”

Jisung and Minho both went into the kiss, Jisung’s hand went to Minhos shoulder, and Minho was cupping his cheek. The kiss this time was more desperate, like they've been waiting ages. Their mouths moved against each other, the wet smacks of their lips filling the silence of the room, the heat rising in both of them.

“Jisung…” Minho said between their lips, the breathlessness in it making Jisung's cock twitch.

“Yeah?” “Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked.

“Yes.” Jisung says, grabbing the collar of his shirt, tugging it, pulling Minho on top of him, which Minho happily followed, hands lowering to Jisung’s waist as he connected their mouths again. Minho's legs stood at the edge of the bed, body bent over to make out with Jisung. Their breaths became louder, chests heaving, and their faces were flushed and warm. Minho slid his hands under Jisung's shirt, making him shiver and gasp, and Minho took the opportunity to lick into Jisung’s mouth. Jisung's cock practically jumped in his pants.

Jisung sighed into the now open kiss, Minho’s tongue gently stroking inside his mouth. It felt so good, and Jisung found himself gripping at Minho’s shirt. Jisung wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck, bringing him closer, which was both the best and the worst idea, because they felt it when their hips were pressed against each other, they could feel each other where they filled out their pants. Jisung moaned into Minho’s mouth, making him groan, the vibration being felt against his chest. Minho parted their mouths to breathe, grinding their pelvises together, mouth hung open in a silent moan. Jisung, without Minho’s mouth muffling him, gasped, letting out a breathy moan when Minho grinds his growing erection against his.

“Minho…” Jisung whined, not even sure what he was even saying his name for. Minho then started kissing down Jisung’s neck. This made Jisung whine more, tilting his head back in a gasp, now tugging at Minho’s shirt. Jisung felt more high than he’s ever been, and no drug could replicate the feeling of them grinding against each other, Jisung desperately rutting up, trying to chase the feeling. “Fuck…Minho…”

“Jisung. What do you feel right now?” Minho pulled back, keeping his bulge pressed against Jisung’s, keeping the pressure there, but not stimulating.

“Minho…please…” Jisung whined, trying to move his hips, but Minho held them down firmly. This felt like torture, and Jisung was getting ready to start begging.

“Answer the question.”

“I feel…so fucking good…please Minho…don’t stop…” Jisung was a panting, begging mess.

“Don’t ever stop thinking about me…” Minho said, grabbing Jisung’s face, then kissing him, full tongue, even some teeth. Minho moved his hips in an agonizing slow drag that ripped a mewl from Jisung.

Minho slid his hands under Jisung’s knees, pushing up on his under-thighs, scooting him up the bed, making Jisung yelp. Minho then climbed on top of Jisung, settling right between his legs, placing one hand on the bed right next to Jisung's face. Jisung looked up at Minho, tugging the bottom of Minho's shirt up, and Minho knew what he meant.

Minho slipped his shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor, and Jisung could have moaned. Minho wasn't cut or defined, but he had a body that was made for sex. His pecs slightly bulged out, and a faint hint of abs could be seen. The best part though, was the large tattoo across his body, starting at the top of his ribs and ending right before his waistline. The tattoo? A Korean traditional style tiger, climbing down his body. Minho tensed when Jisung's fingers ran over the ink, tracing each line.

"Its gorgeous..." Jisung said, giving it one more stroke of his fingers.

"You're gorgeous." Minho slid his fingers under Jisung’s shirt again, teasingly touching his abdomen, making him squirm. Minho's hand dipped lower, sliding over Jisung's thigh, close to his throbbing cock, and Jisung rolled his head back, feeling everything, but getting nothing.

“Minho…please…Just do something…” Jisung begged.

Minho groaned, giving himself a squeeze where he really filled out his pants, and Jisung’s mouth watered at the thought of what could be behind that stupid zipper.

“What do you want Jisung? Tell me.”

“T-touch me…” Jisung flushed, never expecting to beg the man he hated a little over a week ago to touch him. He wanted Minho so bad. Needed him. The ache between his legs grew.

“I am touching you…” Minho said, wiggling his fingers where they rested under Jisung’s shirt.

Jisung whined.

“If you want something, you’ve gotta tell me specifically…I can’t read your mind Jisung.”

“You’re so mean…” Jisung pouted.

“Oh I could be mean.” Minho smirks. “I could be so mean.” The tone of voice made Jisung leak, and he could feel the familiar bead of pre cum leave his tip inside his pants. Jisung knew what he meant, and although tempting, that would be for another time. Instead, Jisung grabbed Minho’s wrist, bringing his hand to cup Jisung’s bulge.

“Ah, I see, you want me to touch you here baby?” Minho smirks, giving Jisung a squeeze, making him gasp, leaning down to his face, which was burning up. “You like that?” He asks, making Jisung shiver below him.

“Okay Jisung.” He says, removing his hand, but only to start unbuttoning Jisung’s pants. “I’ll be nice to you, baby.” Minho adds that last word, enjoying the effect the word has on the younger. Jisung bites his lip as his his pants are tugged off, and Minho lets out a breathy laugh.

“What?” Jisung asks, looking down to see what was so funny. His boxers. Shit. He had leaked so much pre that he had a large, obvious wet patch on the fabric. He covered his face with his hands, head falling back on the bed.

“Jisung it’s okay, it’s cute.” Minho grabs his wrists and take them away in order to see Jisung’s flushed face. Kissing the inside of each wrist, Minho placed Jisung's hands back on his shoulders. Minho's fingers trailed over the wet patch, right over his tip, making Jisung twitch, gasping. Minho was constantly faking his patience, a crack in his facade visible when he bit his lip, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Jisung’s boxers, and pulling them down. Jisung’s cock sprang free before resting against his abdomen, red, sensitive, and still leaking. Minho pulled the boxers all the way off, throwing them on the floor to join Jisung’s pants.

Leaning forward, Minho kissed Jisung, and he gladly kissed back, feeling the bliss spread through his body. Jisung was so obsessed with Minho’s lips that he forgot about his hands, which one suddenly grabbed his cock, collecting pre cum from the tip and using it to stroke. Parting his lips to gasp, Jisung moaned into Minho’s mouth, hands squeezing his shoulders.

“Tell me how it feels baby.” Minho whispered against Jisung’s open mouth, keeping a steady rhythm as he pumped his cock.

“So good…fuck…” His breath hitched as Minho slid the pad of his thumb over his slit, shooting pleasure through his whole body. Jisung's eyes rolled back, he doesn't think he'll ever feel this good. ever. Minho's hand stroked slowly and teasingly, looking straight at Jisung's flushed face.

"Minho....baby-please....faster.." Jisung whines, panting.

Minho is far too gone to think about how dirty Jisung might like it, but with how raunchy Jisung could be, it wasn't hard to guess, so he leans down, opening his mouth and letting his built up spit drip onto Jisung's tip, making him shiver. Minho then stroked, picking up the pace, and Jisung started moaning without holding back, gasping.

"Minho...fuck..ruin me.." Jisung moaned, hands grabbing the back of Minho's neck. Yup. Dirty. Minho groaned, picking up the pace, sliding his thumb over Jisung's tip.

"Fuck fuck fuck~ Minho...I'm getting close..." Jisung's moans were addictive, each sound sending jolts of pleasure to Minho's aching cock.

Minho stops his movement, and Jisung sobs.

"Minho why-?" Jisung looks up, realizing Minho was taking out his own cock. Minho's eyes stared into his dangerously, and when he took his length out, Jisung shutters, jaw slacking.

Minho stroked his red, throbbing length, it looked painful.

"Minho..." Jisung was practically drooling.

"Yeah?"

"Can I...Suck you off?" Jisung couldn't even think before asking. He never even sucked dick before.

"You want to?" Minho smirked, but he couldn't hide the genuine concern.

"I don't know how, but I wanna make you feel good...please?"

"Okay..." Minho turned, sitting on the edge of the bed and throwing a pillow on the floor. "Get on you knees, use the pillow so its more comfortable." He said, motioning for Jisung to kneel on the floor between his legs.

Jisung slid between Minho's huge meaty thighs, eyes never leaving the slick, throbbing tip between them. "Just do whatever, i'll let you know if its good or not. Just start with your tongue first, and if you're having second thoughts, tell me. okay?"

"Yes." Jisung says, hand immediately wrapping his hand around the base of Minho's cock for this first time, feeling as it throbbed against his palm.

Jisung decided to just go for it, licking right under Minho's head, making tho older groan, figuring it meant it was good, so he just kept going. Jisung started with kitten licks, the saltiness of Minho's cock seemed to be addictive. After a while, Jisung got bold, deciding to just go for it, and Minho had to grip his sheets with both hands once Jisung wrapped his lips around his tip. Jisung figured that he knew what felt good to him, so as long as he did what he figured would feel good, it would, he knew what having a dick felt like, couldn't be that difficult. Minho started panting, legs shaking slightly as Jisung sucked on his tip like a lollipop.

"F-uck...you're doing so good Ji..." Minho moaned, and Jisung was trying not to drip onto the floor or Minho's pillow.

What made it worse was that Minho was slightly bucking his hips, and Jisung loved it. He swirled his tongue, causing Minho to buck forward again. "Shit- sorry." Minho said, but Jisung chased after his cock, taking more into his mouth. "Ji...you feel so fucking good...keep doing that. Whatever you want." Minho looked out of it, and it gave Jisung the confidence to start bobbing his head. Jisung started actually sucking, moving his tongue along the shaft of Minho's dick and stroking what he was a little scared to fit in his mouth. Then Minho ran his hands through Jisung's hair, slightly tugging, and it tore a moan from Jisung's throat, sending vibrations down Minho's shaft.

"Shit- Sungie...don't do that or i'll-!" Jisung didn't care, he moaned again, and Minho moaned. Loud. Jisung was throbbing, and he fought ever nerve in his body telling him to touch himself, having Minho's dick in his mouth made him more horny than he thought was possible. Jisung started flicking his tongue over Minho's slit, and it wasn't long before Minho was gasping for air.

"Jisung- fuck baby I'm close~ stop or I'm gonna cum in your mouth..." That did not sound like a warning to Jisung, more like a treat, so he hollowed his cheeks, moaning again and again, needing Minho's release.

"Oh fuck-!" Minho gasped, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out the sexiest groan Jisung every heard, and then came. Jisung moaned erotically as he felt the warm ropes fill his mouth, taking everything given to him, then swallowing. "Shit...you're so good with your mouth baby.." Minho pulled Jisung head back by his hair, and Jisung whined.

"I swallowed everything..." Jisung said, eyes still a little cock-drunk, and he stuck out his tongue to prove that he took everything.

"Jesus Sung..." Minho said, groaning as his cock started to rise in interest.

Jisung's eyes seemed to sparkle, and Minho lifted him, guiding him by his hair. Jisung stood before him, and he tugged him by his waist, guiding him to straddle his lap, and now Minho was already rock hard. Again.

Minho learned forward and kissed Jisung, tongues once again swirling in a sensual dance. Jisung slowly lifted his hand, wrapping a hand around Minho's cock, making him groan. Minho's hand returned to Jisung's dick, and they both stroked each other, moans spilling out of both their mouths. Minho's hand would slow down sometimes, not wanting Jisung to cum way before him.

"Please baby...I'm so fucking close...please just let me come" Jisung begged, picking up his pace where his wrist rotated, making Minho let out a particularly slutty moan.

"Okay Sungie..." Minho said, picking up his strokes on Jisung's cock, watching the boy begin to shake.

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease-!" Jisung begged, "I'm gonna fucking come, don't stop!" Jisung moaned louder, and Minho felt his own orgasm build, so he increased speed and pressure, focusing on Jisung's head.

Minho leaned back, watching the porn star-like faces Jisung was making, and it brought him impossibly closer, feeling the tension grow in his abdomen.

Minho slipped his other hand under Jisung's shirt to tug it up, revealing Jisung's stomach, and it was just in time, cause Jisung was coming.

"Fuck!" Jisung gasped, his back arching into Minho, hand faltering where he stroked the other, but he didn't stop. Soon those sweet white ropes of cum were shooting out, right onto Jisung's stomach, and the sight pushed Minho to the edge. Minho kept stroking Jisung as he felt his orgasm crash over him, sitting up as Jisung began to falter and learn forward into him. At that point, Jisung was getting overstimulated, and was just squeezing Minho, so Minho released Jisung, then moving his hand off his cock to jerk himself the rest of the way. It didn't take long before Minho was full on moaning, Jisung watched through lidded eyes as Minho came on his stomach, hand jerking himself fast. The sight could have inspired Jisung to get hard again, if he wasn't so tired. Minho finished, panting out when he couldn't get anything out of him anymore, kissing Jisung on his forehead. Minho let Jisung rest against him, face buried in his shoulder while he caught his breath for a bit.

"You did so good, Ji, just relax, I got you." Minho says, slipping away, placing Jisung on his back. Jisung didn't fight the order, closing his eyes, falling into the bliss of the post-sex relaxation, his muscles going limp. Jisung jolted a bit when he felt something warm and damp on his limp cock.

"S'okay Jisung, I'm just cleaning you up." Minho said, and Jisung could honestly melt. Minho was so sweet, the kind of guy you could easily fall in love with. What? Forget that part...

Jisung closed his eyes, feeling his stomach get wiped down, then the feeling left, the warmth gone, and Jisung turned over, curling up on his side.

"I'm gonna put some clothes on you, okay?" He heard Minho, and just nodded, laying back on his back. He felt Minho dress him, treating him so gently, like he was fragile, and Jisung has never been treated that way, he's always been...reckless, and rough...

Jisung felt himself get lifted then placed back down on the bed, getting tucked in. A few minutes passed before Minho slipped in behind him, wrapping an arm around Jisung's waist, and Jisung learned into the contact.

Minho placed a soft kiss on Jisung's shoulder. "Goodnight Jisung." And that was the last thing he heard before he fell into a blissful sleep.

~~~~~

October 17th, 1987

Minho woke up with a blissful buzz flowing through his body, completely unaware of the emptiness in his bed for the first few moments.

Opening his eyes, he looked over to where there was once warmth, a dip in his bed, the space being filled, and it was now empty. Minho sat up, looking to his other side, he felt like he was getting Deja Vu.

"Jisung?" He called out, feeling that familiar dread fill his stomach, wondering if Jisung had lied to him.

"Jisung....please don't tell me..." Minho slips out of bed, rounding the corner to his bathroom, finding nothing.

It was as if Jisung simply vanished. There was no trace of him, like he never existed to begin with. Minho felt betrayed. He had been so honest, so vulnerable, so weak. Jisung had betrayed him.

"Fuck..." Minho grunts, running his hands through his hair, part of him still clinging onto hope that Jisung was somewhere in the house, maybe even on the porch. Opening his front door, he was greeted by nothing but the cold, empty morning.

Minho was getting impatient, and his feelings were beginning to taste sour in his mouth. His heart ached, he was sure what he felt for Jisung, he knew it, he just wished on everything he loved that Jisung could see that too. Minho needed to find out why Jisung was doing this to him, even if it destroyed him. Even if it broke him. Even if Jisung really didn't feel the same.

So Minho left his house, looking for Jisung, his heart on his sleeve.

~

Jisung was outside a liquor store, learned against the wall when Minho pulled into the parking lot. Jisung pretended not to hear the roar of the engine. Like he didn't feel the all too familiar rumble beneath his feet. Like his heart didn't sink to the bottom of his chest. Knowing that Minho was here. Knowing Minho would see him. With a girl.

Jisung kept his eyes on the girl, who's name was Olivia, and he had only met her an hour ago. In the morning when Jisung woke up, he looked at Minho, and felt so comfortable it scared him. He felt this pang of dread, the realization of what he did with Minho hitting him hard. Jisung didn't like that he was catching feelings for Minho, he knew better, that in the end everyone he grew romantically attached to him would either hate him or hurt him. He needed to get over Minho, but he was not prepared for the realization of how bad he was hurting him.

"Hey, Jisung." Minho said coldly, and Jisung didn't say anything, he didn't even spare him a look.

"Jisung." He warned.

"Can I help you?" Ouch.

Minho's expression didn't change, but Jisung knew, he knew too well how badly that stung. He also knew there was no going back. There was a point of no return, and he had reached past that.

"I was just gonna say I'm gonna need my clothes back. You know, the ones- " Jisung didn't let him finish, grabbing his wrist and pulling him away to talk.

"What the fuck dude?"

"Oh, i'm dude now?"

"Not like you were anything before." Jisung felt like that sentence took more air than it needed. "Are you trying to embarrass me?"

"No, but its stupid that you're trying to pretend you're something you're not." Minho quipped.

"Because i'm not, Minho, okay? I'm not gay, I don't like you like that, I was just confused." Jisung bit.

"You knew what you were doing, you knew what you felt!" Minho's voice could only be strong for so long.

"Felt what? You think I actually liked you? It's kind of pathetic that you believe that."

"You don't mean that Jisung." Minho shakes his head.

"Yes I do. Last night was a mistake, sorry if I led you on or whatever..."

"You're such a coward..." Minho tried to steady his breathing, but it was hard when his heart felt like it was bleeding.

"Yeah? Well at least i'm not naive."

"I'm not selfish like you, I don't know why I ever fell for you..." Minho winced, and Jisung pretended like that didn't feel like getting shot in the chest.

"Yeah, well that was your mistake." Jisung couldn't even look Minho in the eye.

"So you're telling me that this whole time, you felt nothing? Nothing at all...?" Minho's eyes were glossing over.

"Yeah, can't believe you actually thought I would..."

"Look at me in the eye." Minho says, and Jisung is tempted to look up. "Look at me Jisung." He says, and its so gut wrenching that Jisung has no choice but to look at Minho, realizing that he was crying.

"Look at me in the eye and tell me you felt nothing for me this whole time." He demanded, and Jisung knew it would be near impossible. But Jisung also knew he had to get over Minho. He had to escape his stupid feelings. He wasn't gay.

Jisung swallowed, taking a breath. "I never felt anything...at all...for you." Jisung fights back his urge to wince, as well as curl up right then and there. He wanted to floor to open up and swallow him whole. Jisung wanted to disappear, more than anything. Jisung knew he fucked up way too bad this time, and he wanted out. He felt like he cut off his own single oxygen supply, he had caused his own demise, and he was gonna die alone.

Jisung would never forget the look on Minho's face. The way his eyes dropped, like he wasn't even himself anymore, just a shell of a man who once was. Jisung felt his heart get ripped from his chest, his rib cage felt tight inside of his body, like it was somehow trapping him from the inside. Jisung regretted everything with his whole being, he regretted meeting Minho, regretted not jumping that day despite Minho saving him. He wished Minho hadn't loved him. And he wished he didn't love Minho back.

"Okay Jisung." Minho says, backing up. "I'll get out of your hair then. Don't bother to return my clothes." Minho said, retreating back to his bike, speeding off before Jisung could process he was gone.

Jisung was angry. Angry at Minho. No. He was angry with himself. Jisung had driven away one of the only good things in his life. The man who had saved him from his father, had saved his life, had actually made Jisung feel like a redeemable person. And Jisung couldn't even accept it. He was too disgusted with himself.

"Haha, what was that all about?" The girl said, rounding the corner, Jisung had forgotten about Olivia.

"Oh- Nothing, just a friend trying to embarrass me. Jisung laughed it off, acting like his whole world hadn't just sped off on a motorcycle.

"Oh, well then, I was gonna head home, did you wanna walk me?" The girl batted her eyes at Jisung.

"Sure." He shrugged. Jisung decided he just needed a distraction, a way out, to convince himself he wasn't hurting. Jisung wasn't gay, and he was gonna prove it.

~

While Jisung and Olivia made their way to her house, Minho parked outside his house, throwing his helmet to the ground after dismounting. Minho's eyes burned from the amount of tears that were spilling over. He opened his door, slamming it shut harshly, the noise not nearly loud enough to be heard over his own spiraling thoughts. Minho wished he never met Jisung. He should have just forgiven Jisung that day, should have never followed him around to make him pay for the damages. But Minho knew he didn't actually wish that. Minho would have never saved Jisung, twice, so he couldn't wish that. Not ever. Minho tugged the fridge open, taking out a six pack of beer, closing the fridge and starting the first bottle, needing to drown out his depressing thoughts. He needed to drown out the fact that he could only think about Jisung. And that hurt more than anything.

After a few bottles, Minho decided to leave the beer alone, shuffling to his room. He noticed his carefully placed paint bottles in a row, sitting at the top of his workbench, which had his latest project sitting on it, the one that was occupying much of his time. Looking at it made his stomach turn. Minho couldn't bear to see it, and it just made him feel worse, so he stormed out of his house, making a phone call.

~

Jisung had made it to the girls house, and of course instead of keeping her promise of just letting him walk her home, she invited him in. When they got to her bedroom, her mouth latched onto his. Jisung kissed her back, trying to ignore the empty feeling in his stomach. Her hands were all over his body, but he didn't even know what to do with his. She tugged him on top of her, and he followed, trying to distract himself, not able to shake the memory of him and Minho together, feeling uneasy. The girl grabbed his hands, bringing them to her breasts, and he gave them an awkward squeeze, trying to just focus on her. She moaned, but it didn't quite reach Jisung's ears, Jisung wasn't even really in the room with her.

He didn't even feel it when she grabbed him there. "Jisung?"

"Huh- What?" Jisung was snapped out of it, looking down, his face paling as he realized what the problem was.

"You're not hard..." She said. "Do you not like me?" She pouted, and Jisung wanted to disappear.

"No-no no, I do like you- I" Jisung stumbled back, hands running through his hair, feeling like he was going crazy. "I'm sorry- i'm sorry I gotta go..." Jisung almost whispered before darting out of the house. Jisung didn't know what to do. He just knew he was fucked. So fucked.

Jisung knew he was done for, he knew his heart and body was no longer for anybody else. He was completely and utterly only for Minho, and he had pushed him away, farther than anybody possibly could. Jisung was so angry at himself, he knew he was an idiot, he was such an idiot for letting Minho go. So Jisung decided to do what he usually did when he felt unhinged. He stole. One whole forty of vodka. And he was gonna drink it all by himself.

~

Jisung was drunk. He was destroying himself, already completely plowed through the bottle, stumbling with every step. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew no matter how much he drank, he was still only going to think of Minho. This led him straight to the one place he didn't think he was welcome. Minho's house.

"Minho.." He sobbed. Jisung had no idea what he was doing.

Stumbling up the porch, he tried the door, finding it unlocked.

"Minho?!" He cried out, placing the bottle on the counter next to the half finished case of beer, continuing to force himself through doorways, finding nothing, nothing at all. All he found was the empty bedroom, Minho's bed was still unmade. Next to his bed was a work bench littered with paint and brushes, yet there was nothing that had the paint on it. Jisung looked at Minho's bed again, being fluttered with memories, knowing he would never get those back, he started sobbing uncontrollably, falling onto his bed. Jisung had never cried as much as he did that night, he was a huge drunk mess, and one with overwhelming emotions.

Jisung was so drunk, he ended up passing out right there on Minho's bed.

~~~~~

October 12th, 1987

Jisung’s skin was raw. Peeling.

Jisung clawed at the ground beneath him as he crawled on his knees further and further on the asphalt of the road.

“Minho please! I’m sorry!” He yelled, dragging himself toward Minho.

Minho looked down at him coldly as tears started streaming down Jisung’s face, burning his skin.

Minho bent down to Jisung’s level. “Jisung?” He said calmly.

“Yes? Anything, Minho I’m sorry…I…” Jisung stuttered, the thought of Minho leaving him made him sick to his stomach.

Minho lifted Jisung’s chin. “Jisung.” He said firmer.

“Yes Minho.” Jisung looked up, full surrender in his eyes, he needed Minho like he needed air.

“You’re sorry?” He asked, and Jisung felt the tears well up again.

“Yes, please Minho…I need you…” Jisung said, his voice echoing through the space.

“Prove it.” Minho says, and Jisung wastes no time leaning in to kiss him, only Minho suddenly backs away. “Heh, I knew you were a fucking faggot, you can’t hide the truth Jisung.” Minho’s voice darkened, and it all seemed to bounce around the neighborhood, Jisung looked at the houses, which no longer felt familiar, Minho’s voice didn’t sound the same either.

“What?” Jisung said, the world became dark and void of any other sound.

“You’re disgusting. You may try to hide it, but everyone knows you’re a homo, that’s all you’ll ever be.” He says, face almost distorted with malice.

“You…don’t mean that…” Jisung whimpers, his heart shattering in his chest, which felt like it was on fire.

“You’re nothing but a fairy, a boy lover, a homo, a faggot!” His words rung out, Jisung clenched the sides of his head as the sound seem to reverberate in his head, the last word echoing over and over until…

Bright headlights shone behind him, but he knew it was too late by the time he turned, his heart beating out of his chest before the car collided-

Jisung was jolted awake, gasping for air as he trapped his arms around himself, shaking, taking in his surroundings, eyes darting around his room. It felt like his air was stolen from him, and the ringing in his ears was painful and sharp. As he came to, he calmed down, knowing it was all just a dream. Jisung didn’t let the tears fall, he just sat there, still feeling that ache in his chest when dream-Minho had crushed him. Jisung thinks about how he felt when in the dream, about how he felt like he needed him, how him leaving felt like he was dying.

“It was just a dream…it means nothing…” Jisung said to himself.

There was a weird low rumble coming from outside, an unusual sound for that early in the morning (it was actually late in the afternoon). Jisung tried to listen to what it was, but his attention was immediately ripped away as he felt a sharp pain attacking his knuckles. He groaned as he felt his hand, unwrapping the towel to see the cuts, they weren’t too bad, but still painful, and some of them were still bleeding. Jisung settled with bandaids, slapping some on his knuckles before his heart sank, the sound of knocking coming from the living room.

Jisung left his room, not seeing his father in the living room, so he made his way to the front door. When he reached it, he froze. The rumble. An engine. Motorcycle.

Jisung’s heart beat out of his chest, making his whole body throb with anxiety and adrenaline. Turning the knob, Jisung opened it, his heart stopping in its place, it really was Minho. He was holding a plain skateboard.

“I owed you this…” He says, keeping eye contact, he knew what he was doing.

“Thanks…” Jisung said, not even excited over the board, or the littlest bit happy.

“Jisung.” Minho said.

“Yeah?”

Minho waited a bit. “Enjoy it, this is goodbye.”

“Oh…okay…” Jisung said, looking at the board, it was simple, just wood, but empty.

“Goodbye, Jisung.” He says, looking straight into Jisung’s soul.

“Minho…” Jisung almost whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“I know…” Minho finally broke his stare.

The two just stood there. No words, no eye contact, and the silence was deafening.

“Well…I guess I should say goodbye…so…goodbye, Minho.” Jisung said, looking up, meeting Minho’s eyes, they were already looking at him.

“Yeah-.”

A sound could be heard behind Jisung in his house, and his face drained. Jisung’s face dropped in a second, fear in his eyes, and then he slammed the door in Minho’s face, leaving him confused.

On the inside of the house, Jisung turned around, his father stood right at the arch, he came from his room, fuming like a bull, and Jisung was currently the red cape.

“What did I tell you?” He growled.

Jisung said nothing, just stood there, frozen.

“Get over here, or I’ll go out there and kill him instead.” He threatened.

Jisung immediately made his way over to his dad, the thought of his dad hurting Minho was terrifying, and he’d rather put himself in that position.

His father landed a harsh kick, a powerful one at that, and it knocked the air out of Jisung’s lungs, sending him flying towards the couch. Jisung let out a pained noise, before his hair was being pulled, and his dad then kicked him in the cheek, and Jisung let out a yelp, collapsing on the floor. Another sharp kick to the ribs-

Crack!

Jisung felt it through his whole body, like an electric current started at his rib and ran through the rest of every nerve in his body, sharp, and painful. Suddenly breathing was hard, it hurt. Jisung let out an animalistic cry, feeling like his rib was leaking molten lava.

Jisung’s dad walked over to the door, and Jisung whimpered, desperate for Minho to not get involved, or worse, hurt.

“You know son? It’s a shame you had to turn out this way.” He says, grabbing Jisung’s skateboard. His everything. Minho’s parting gift.

Smash! Smash!

His brand new board. Destroyed. And all he could do was watch, feeling the floor get ripped from beneath him, like he was plunged into hell, his mind becoming that dark mess of static, it was so loud.

“s-top…” Jisung rasped weakly, tears falling from his eyes, blurring his vision. He couldn’t take this much longer.

Boom!

The door was broken down, and a gun cocked.

“Don’t fucking move.” It was Minho.

“Hah…what a fucking joke…this has nothing to do with you, fairy.” His dad chuckled.

“It does now.” Minho said firmly, his finger sat ready on the trigger, aimed straight at his head, and he raised his arms in the air, eyes red with anger.

“Minho…” Jisung whimpered on the ground.

“Shit…Jisung…can you move?” He asks, genuine concern on his face.

“Not really…I think my rib is broken…” He said, choking on a sob.

“Okay…fuck…it’s gonna be okay, just breathe okay?”

“You guys are disgusting, you should both be fucking killed-!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Minho yelled, and it seemed to shake the room, Jisung had never heard so much anger in someone’s voice before. The gun was being gripped tightly, staying straight shot pointed at Jisung’s dad, tempting.

“Get on your knees old man! Any sudden movements and your brain will become your new fucking wallpaper, do you understand me?!” He said, the malevolence in his voice made Jisung shiver.

Jisung’s father grunted, getting on his knees, and Minho pushed his head with his foot, pressing his face into the floor, his father screamed.

“I won’t hesitate to kill you, in fact I’m fucking itching. Don’t move, don’t make a sound, don’t even breathe too loud or god so help me.” He ended his sentence through his teeth, walking over to Jisung, keeping his gun aimed at his father.

“Jisung…” His hand hovered over Jisung’s back as he dropped to his knees beside him, the side of Jisung’s face against the cold floor, his vision becoming blurry.

“Jisung stay with me.” He rolled him over, pulling a guttural yell from Jisung. “I know baby, I know…you’ve gotta get up, okay?” Minho cupped Jisung’s face, who regained some of his consciousness when the jolt of pain ran through his body.

Jisung’s breath stuttered, and he looked at Minho. “I’m sorry Minho…I’m sorry…”

“Jisung it’s okay, just please do one thing for me, yeah?” Minho pleads, and Jisung nods. “I’ll help you up, but I have to get you out of here, okay?” Minho wrapped his arm around the back of Jisung, hoisting him up.

“it’s okay, you’re doing great, come on, stay with me.” Minho talked him through it, Jisung occasionally making a pained noise.

They eventually made it out of the house, and Jisung stumbled his way to Minhos motorcycle, one arm slung over the older. Minho lifted him gently onto the back of the motorcycle, fitting and buckling his helmet before slipping to the front, making sure Jisung leaned on him, and held on tight.

The ride there was like a skip in time, and suddenly he’s fully awake, feeling the rush of cold hair assault his face, suddenly he was aware of the ache stemming from his ribs. It was a blur for Minho, he pushed his bike to its limit, driving faster than he’s ever gone before, his brain a jumble of chaos, fueled by adrenaline and fear.

Minho only slowed down when he felt a squeeze on his bicep, it was Jisung, silently asking him to slow down. “Minho…I’m okay..” He forces the words out right into Minho’s ear, and he calmed down.

When they arrived, Minho gets up, reaching out for Jisung, helping him off the bike. “Can you walk?” He asks.

“Yeah, my ribs just hurt…a lot..” Jisung rasps, letting Minho gently remove his helmet. They entered Minho’s house without saying another word. Setting down his keys, Minho removed Jisung’s jacket, then his own, hanging them both on the small coat rack at the front door. Jisung followed Minho into the kitchen where Minho started raiding his cabinets for something, every second he became more restless, mindlessly tossing things aside, running his hands through his hair as he paced the room, groaning in frustration.

“Minho.” Jisung said, stopping him in his tracks. Minho seemed to relax a bit, looking at Jisung, waiting.

“Minho calm down, I’m not gonna die.” Jisung said, the bluntness being exactly what Minho needed. “Did you check the bathroom?”

Minho turned towards the bathroom, sighing. He came back as fast as he left, rummaging through cupboards until he found it, bringing the first aid kit to the kitchen. Minho practically ripped it open, rapidly going through everything before Jisung placed his hands on his.

“Minho. Breathe. There’s no need to panic.” He squeezes his hands.

Minho sighs. “You’re right…” He takes a deep breath before preparing everything he needed. Jisung had a cut on his cheek, slight bruising on his eye, and a cut on his brow. Minho took a disinfectant wipe, guiding Jisung to lean his lower back against the kitchen counter, patting at his cut.

Minho flinched when Jisung winced in pain. “I’m sorry…it’s gonna sting for a bit but I need to clean it.” He said gently, patting back at the cut, letting Jisung grip his forearm, squeezing when he felt pain. He repeated it for the smaller cut on his eyebrow, then put a bandage on each cut.

Minho stepped back a little bit. “Jisung…I need you to lift your shirt…if your rib is broken I need to take you to a hospital. Can I check?”

Jisung contemplated, already knowing he trusted Minho, but it still felt weird, a puffy feeling In his throat. Instead of speaking, Jisung just lifted his shirt, revealing the side of his torso, where the rib was hit. Under the shirt was a large dark bruise, it was brutal. Minho inched his hand closer, then ran his fingers along the bruise, making Jisung let out a struggled noise.

“I’m sorry Jisung, I have to make sure, I’ll be gentle…” He assures, and Jisung lets him, holding his breath the whole time, and Minho handles him with utmost gentleness.

“They aren’t broken, but based off these bruises, it might be slightly cracked.” Minho explains, turning to grab something from the freezer.

“What does that mean?” Jisung asks.

“It means it can heal on its own, you just have to take it easy.” Minho said, returning with an ice pack.

“Okay…” Jisung said shakily as Minho secured the ice pack to his ribs, and he lowered his shirt back over it.

A few moments of silence passed.

“Jisung.” Minho said.

Jisung looked at him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asks, a direct hit.

A few seconds pass, Jisung is stunned, not exactly sure himself. “What was I supposed to say?” He says a bit agitated.

“Maybe start with your father would beat you?” Minhos voice raises slightly.

“Oh sure, then what? It’s not like anybody would take in the lazy high school dropout…” He says.

“Jisung don’t say that.”

“Say what Minho? The truth?! You wanna know why? Cause I deserve it!” Jisung yells.

“No you don’t!”

“I don’t have anything, Minho. All I do is cause trouble. I don’t go to school, I don’t have a job, where could I even go?! Who the fuck wants to take in the city reject?!” He was breaking.

“Me, Jisung! I do!” Minho yells.

“Why?! Literally what do you see in me?” The tears just started up, not being able to hold back anymore. “I have nothing! I’m not valuable, I’m just a waste of space!” He cries out, voice breaking.

“You’re not, Jisung. You were just never given a chance, nobody gave you a chance to show them who you are, so you never gave one back.” He says.

“Yeah? Then who am I, if you’re so sure you know me!” He yelled through his tears.

“You’re scared Jisung! You never show anybody, you’re so closed off and you push everyone away!” Minho says bluntly.

“I know that. I know.” He hiccups.

“Jisung.” Minho said, and Jisung finally looked back at him. “You can’t push me away anymore. I am giving you your chance. Just let me in.” He looked like he was…begging?

“I’m not giving up on you.” His eyes saw straight through Jisung, breaking down his walls, and Jisung leaned forward, straight into Minho’s arms, and he of course caught him as he began to sob into his shoulder. “Jisung… it’s okay, I’m not like your father, I’m not like everybody else. I won’t judge you, and I won’t leave you, I promise.” He whispers into Jisung’s hair.

Minho held him there for a while, letting him cry it all out, understanding he probably carried this baggage for the longest time. Once he had calmed down, Minho grabbed his hand.

“I wanna show you something.” Minho said, leading Jisung up the stairs, into his room, and opening the window, climbing through. “Out here.” He says, holding out his hand, and Jisung took it, going through the window, wincing at the pain he felt in his side. Once they were both on the lower roof, Minho helped Jisung up to the main roof, the highest point, and sat down, patting the spot next to him. “Sometimes when life gets too noisy, I like to come up here and just listen to the sound of nothing…the views are beautiful too…” He looks out, Jisung follows his gaze, finding himself staring at the most beautiful sunset he’s ever seen.

“It’s beautiful.” Jisung said.

“I’ve probably painted it a million times…” Minho says.

“You paint?”

“Is it that much of a surprise?” He smiles.

“Well I wouldn’t expect a gang member to paint…” Jisung smiles back, letting the silence settle between them.

“Tell me something about yourself.” Minho says, turning to Jisung.

“Well…I like skateboarding.” He says plainly.

“Something I don’t know, something nobody knows.”

Jisung stays silent, and then turns to Minho. “Well…when I was seven, my mom passed away…and I still have no idea how…”

Minho looks into his eyes, silently letting him know he hears him.

“My dad…he would always say he killed her…but he wasn’t like that before she died…He actually used to be a good dad, and then when she died…I think he entered a psychotic episode and just…never got out…” Jisung looks away before looking back at Minho’s face, which looked attentive. Jisung had never really talked about serious topics like this, never got to share his opinion, never got to unload baggage, and now, he couldn’t stop.

“What was your mother like?” Minho asks.

“My mom? Well…”

For hours, they talked and talked, watching the sun set, then gazing at the stars before one of them started an endless cycle of yawning.

Minho set up his couch with pillows and blankets. “Are you sure you don’t want to take my bed? I don’t want the couch to dig into your ribs.” Minho protests as Jisung sits.

“I’ll be fine Minho.”

“Okay…”

“Minho?” Jisung asks.

“Yes Jisung?”

“Thanks…for all this…I’m sorry I’ve been a burden…” He sighs.

“Jisung, you’re never a burden. Don’t ever think that, okay?”

“Okay…night Minho.”

“Goodnight Jisung.” Minho says, turning off the light and trudging towards his room. “Just knock on my door if you need anything, anything at all.” He says before slipping into his room, leaving Jisung in the living room with the dark and his own thoughts.

This was wrong. Dangerous. He was getting too close.

~~~~~ October 13th, 1987

Minho woke up in his quiet house, sitting up, scratching his head. He rubbed his face, getting up to fill up the food bowl he leaves out for stray cats on his porch. That’s when he remembered that Jisung spent the night. Opening the door, he sees Jisung curled up on his couch, sleeping peacefully.

“Jisung?” Minho asks softly, and when he gets no reply, he leaves him alone, going to his kitchen. Minho grabs his designated cup for cat food, opening his pantry, crouching down to scoop the food into the cup. Getting back up, Minho looks back at Jisung before walking to the front door, stepping onto his porch.

Minho takes a deep breath, then shakes the cup a few times. “Kitties?” He calls out softly, pouring the contents of the cup out, the sound of the small pieces ringing off the metal bowl. Minho thinks back to last night, wondering what could have happened to Jisung if he hadn't intervened, the thought of what his father wanted to do to him was terrifying. Minho shakes his head, not wanting to think about stuff like that.

After Minho came back into the house, he went to his room, sitting on his work bench, playing soft music from his record player. After about an hour, he came out to check on Jisung, finding the couch empty.

"Jisung?" He called out, his heart picking up. "Jisung?!" He calls louder, rounding every corner of his house, and he's nowhere to be found.

Minho freezes in his place when a rather chilling through crosses his mind. What if he went back to his house? Once again, Minho shook the thought from his head, believing Jisung wouldn't do something that stupid. Minho couldn't even take his bike, it was in the shop getting fixed, but Jisung couldn't have gone that far. Walking for about and hour, checking every single place Jisung could possibly be, even running into the skate shop knew Hyunjin worked at, he was picking up more shifts after losing his two friends.

"Hyunjin!" He calls, rushing into the store, but Hyunjin wasn't happy to see him.

"Minho…some nerve you have showing up after what you did to Jeongin..." He was seething.

"No Hyunjin, I had nothing to do with that, didn't Jisung tell you? And- do you know where he is?" He asks frantically.

"Wait, you had nothing to do with Jeongin being...?" He asks.

"No, I don't kill people, neither does my crew. I would never take a life for petty reasons, especially not a kid, I'm truly sorry for your loss."

"Wait, so... what do you guys even do?" Hyunjin asks.

"We're more in the smuggling business." He explains.

"Oooh, what do you guys smuggle?" Hyunjin asks enthusiastically.

"Hyunjin, not right now, do you know where Jisung is?" He asks.

"Oh...I wouldn't know what he's doing nowadays..." He sighs.

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't know?" Hyunjin sits up.

"Know what?"

"Me and Jisung aren't friends anymore...we got into a huge fight, he said some fucked up shit..." Hyunjin looks more sad then angry.

"Hyunjin," Minho starts. "From what I know about Jisung, he has a lot going through his head, and he tends to take it out on everyone, but I know for sure he doesn't mean it. You guys should just talk it out." Minho says.

"Wait, what happened between you two? Didn't you like...hate him?"

"It's a long story, i'll catch you up later, but Jisung disappeared and I need to find him. You don't have any idea where he could be?" Minho asks.

"Hmmm...wait, he might be at the old docks behind the houses on fifth street, at the old pond that leads to the park, you know it?"

"I think so, thank you Hyunjin, I owe you." He says, turning to leave.

"Wait." Hyunjin says, stopping Minho, who turns back to face him. "Is he okay?"

Minho waited. "His father. its bad, but he's not staying with that monster anymore, i'll make sure of it." He says, Hyunjin's face drops in shock, and Minho leaves, sprinting to the park.

After a while, Minho found the park, steering around to the neighborhood that barricaded the back of the pond, slipping between the houses, walking through a few trees before a clearing opened up, the wood planks leaving no question.

The dock.

"Jisung?" Minho panted out as he saw his figure sitting at the edge, and he turned around, making Minho sigh in relief, before he turned back out to the water. "Jisung, what the hell? I looked everywhere for you! Do you have any idea how worried I was?!" He raised his voice, but he wasn't angry at Jisung at all. He makes his way up the dock.

"Jisung answer me." Minho said firmly before Jisung looked at him, he had tears streaming down his face, seeing it made Minho's breath hitch, and he said nothing. Instead of speaking, Minho sat next to Jisung, dangling his legs off the dock like Jisung was, the water level wasn't high enough, leaving a lot of the dock exposed.

Minho wasn't speaking, waiting for Jisung to be ready to speak first. Jisung was looking down at his reflection in the water, he felt confused, like he had two sides of him pulling and pushing, knowing he does that outwardly towards people too. He wiped his tears harshly.

"Minho...how do you just...have yourself all figured out?" Jisung said, the question was vague, and intended to conceal what he was really asking, but Minho knew exactly why he was asking, but decided not to touch on that directly yet.

Minho laughed softly. "You think that? I may not be as much as a mess as I used to, but its not like I have everything figured out. My mom was like your dad too...but I realized that I was living by her agenda, and not my own." He said, keeping it vague, knowing what he really meant.

"Well...how did you get yourself out of your mess?" He asks, turning to Minho, who was already looking at him.

"Well, I started to just go with whatever my heart said, instead of my brain...But of course I can't tell you to do that, cause i'm not your heart." Minho said, his words sounding almost poetic.

A moment of silence passed, like usual, yet every pause in their interactions were never awkward or forced.

"Jisung, why'd you leave?" Minho asks.

"Figured I was overstaying my welcome." He says, looking down.

"No such thing. You don't have to don't feel bad Jisung, I want you to stay with me." Minho says, and Jisung looks back at him. "I'd let you stay forever if it means you can be safe."

Jisung looks into his eyes, and something flares up in his heart, it feels good, too good, almost scary, so he looks away.

"Damn. I could really use some weed right now." Jisung laughs softly, trying to change the vibe a bit, only joking, but Minho is reaching into his jacket pocket.

"Haha, you're in luck." Minho pulls out a small plastic bag, in it is a single small joint.

"Oh my God." Jisung laughs. "You smoke pot?"

"What? do I look like I don't?" He asks, smiling now that Jisung was enjoying himself.

"Well...kinda?" He snorted. Minho fished it out of the bag, stuffing it back in his pocket as he pulled out his zippo.

"Nice design." Jisung said smirking, noticing the familiar design.

It was painted like a can of pork soda.

"Thanks, I painted it myself." He says.

"Why? Was it because of me?" Jisung smirked conceitedly.

"Huh, no." He laughed, watching Jisung pout. "When I first moved out here, I saw it, thought it was funny, and bought a can. It was the most disgusting thing ever, but I kept the can."

"Wait a minute, you called me pathetic for having it!" Jisung scowled, but it held no actual irritation.

"I said stealing it, and I was just salty because of my bike." Minho admitted, finally bringing the joint to his lips, lighting it. Jisung watched the smoke waft into the air, he inhaled the familiar secondhand smell.

Minho took a pull, blowing smoke into Jisung's face, and he welcomed it, it was calming. Minho handed him the joint, and he took it. Staring at the end of the joint, he knew Minho put his mouth over it, and with anybody else he wouldn't think twice, but this somehow felt different.

"Well I don't have mono, Jisung, the joint wont hurt you." Minho laughed softly.

"Right, I spaced out for a second, I trust you." Fuck. Why did he say that? Jisung took a big pull, feeling the warm comforting smoke enter into his lungs, feeling it spread down to his fingertips as he exhaled back straight into Minho's face, who didn't seem to mind at all, he even let out a low giggle.

Minho took the joint back, and Jisung forgot to pretend he wasn't looking at Minho's lips wrapping around it. Minho just watched him intensely are he filled his lungs, then exhaled lazily, locking eyes with Jisung once he looked back up at his eyes.

"What strain is this?" Jisung asks, taking it, fingers feeling fuzzy where they brushed against Minho's.

"It's indica, should help you calm down a bit, it also hits pretty fast." He explains.

"Minho, I know my facts on cannabis." He smirks before taking another pull, each second he feels it run through his system.

"Just making sure." Minho says, smiling, and this time it was his turn to stare at the others lips. Jisung noticed, and something noticeably changed, him being relaxed and not overthinking every breath. The boys passed the blunt back and fourth a few more times, having light conversation while shamelessly eyeing each other. It wasn't long before the blunt was reduced to a stub, and Minho put it out without breaking eye contact with Jisung. The boys were closer now than they originally were, subconsciously shifting or moving closer without even realizing.

"Jisung." Minho said softly.

"Hm?" Was all Jisung let out, his entire body was surrounded in an addicting warmth, and he could feel Minho's body heat. Minho seemed to be glowing, his ethereal features made it impossible for Jisung to look away, he felt like he was being lured in, but he chose to surrender.

"Jisung." He said again, firmer this time.

Jisung was being pulled in, his face warming up, he couldn't pull his gaze away, suddenly everything in his body screamed Minho. Everything except for him seemed to fade, and for once he had something singularly focus on, all the thoughts ceasing to create chaos in him mind, it felt so good. suddenly he felt himself to not want anything but to stay here forever, staying staring into Minho's dark eyes, eyes he used to hate, now pulled him in.

"Tell me..." Minho whispers, face so close to Jisung's that he could feel his breath on his face. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

Pretty.

Before he could even think, Jisung was leaning in, and kissing Minho.

The world around him seemed to bloom into a warm bliss, placing a hand over Minho's where it sat between them. He felt Minho exhale through his nose against his face, then felt Minho's unoccupied hand cup his face, his skin buzzing where the gentle touch stayed. Their lips moved against each others once, twice. Jisung was floating, all his burdens, his stresses, gone, somewhere far away, and he never wanted to touch them again.

That was until a noise behind them snapped them away, Jisung's head whipping towards the sound. Suddenly his whole body was enveloped in a cold rush, feeling sick to his stomach. The anxiety seemed to bubble right back into his chest when he thought of somebody seeing him. Seeing him kiss Minho. Kiss a boy. He kissed a boy.

Jisung's stomach dropped, made him question what he was doing, why he was there. Jisung pulled back like Minho's touch burned.

"Jisung?" Minho asked.

His voice made Jisung shiver, he didn't want this. Jisung's high turned sour, a sudden burn in his chest. Jisung stood, backing up.

"Jisung, what did I do?" Minho stood up too.

Jisung said nothing, feeling like he was gonna throw up. He backed away, and Minho took a step forward, making him back up more, so he stopped.

"Jisung, please don't leave." Minho pleaded, but it was too late, Jisung was already ripped from bliss.

Minho was left at the dock, wondering where he went wrong.

Meanwhile, Jisung was freaking out, he had nobody to go to. There was only one person who would get him back on his feet. Hyunjin. Would he even want to see him right now? Would he want to see him ever? Jisung figured he should just try, go to him and beg if he has to, but he had to apologize to his best friend.

Hyunjin worked later than usual, barely clocking off just in time to see Jisung standing across the street, staring straight at him. Hyunjin felt many emotions, first it was anger, Jisung had crossed a line, and ruined their friendship. Then there was sadness. He missed his best friend, and knew they were both in a bad place at the time of the fight, but he was still hesitant. That was until he remembered the conversation he had with Minho, and how he urged him to talk it out. It couldn't hurt.

Hyunjin sighed, sitting on the curb, looking down. Jisung took the chance, crossing the street to sit next to Hyunjin.

"Hey..." Hyunjin said.

"Hey." Jisung repeated, not sure how to even start.

"How have you been?" He asked.

"Honestly...everything is a mess." He sighs. "Not like my life is exactly isn't a mess already," That actually made Hyunjin laugh. "But it somehow got worse?"

Hyunjin nodded. "I get that. I've been working. That's it, just drowning myself in it, don't really have anything else to do..."

Silence.

"Hyunjin, i'm so sorry.." Jisung's voice trembled.

"I know Jisung. I'm sorry too, what I said wasn't okay at all." Hyunjin looked at him, and they looked at each other.

"You're still my best friend, and I shouldn't have left you, you were struggling too, I should have handled that better." Jisung says. "I don't know what's wrong with me...I just feel so angry and scared and disgusted with myself, I just take everything out on everyone."

"Even so, i'm still your best friend too, and right now we need each other, and through anything, I'll still come back to you man." Hyunjin says, and they hug.

"Did you ever see Minho? He was looking for you, he looked frantic." He suddenly said, pulling back.

"Wait, he came here?" Jisung asked.

"Yeah, he was worried about you, looked like he was going crazy."

"That's how he knew where I was...you told him about our secret spot man?!" Jisung said, holding a hand to his chest.

"Hey, if it was any other situation, I wouldn't have spilled, but I was worried about you...figured you wouldn't wanna see me, so at least someone could make sure you were okay..."

"I see..."

"Speaking of...where is he?" He asked.

"I'll tell you, but you can't tell anybody, okay?"

"I swear," Hyunjin put his hands up. "But start from the beginning, I thought you hated him?"

"Right...okay i'll start from the beginning, but can I ask a favor?" Jisung asked.

Hyunjin nodded. "Anything man."

"Can I stay at yours?"

"Wait he actually did it…You got out of your dads place?" He beamed.

"Yeah... he kinda almost killed me..." He winced.

"Okay man, we have a lot to catch up on, start from like…after the last time we saw each other."

"Okay..."

Jisung began to lay out everything in front of Hyunjin, from the building to the mission to the gun, then the kiss, discussing it the entire night, staying up way late until they passed out.

October 10th, 1987

Jisung wakes up to a throbbing pain in his head, the bright sun was reflecting off a sleek metal trash can right in front of him, and he fell onto his side lazily. Jisung felt done, like he didn’t have a purpose anymore, he had nowhere to go and nothing to do.

Jisung was spiraling out of control until he was sharply broken out of it, fully waking up when his brain registered the sound of police sirens nearby. Jisung sat up, realizing he was near Jeongin’s house, anxiety bubbling in his chest. Reluctantly getting up, Jisung ran his fingers through his messy hair, bringing himself around a corner and down a block, where his anxieties just seemed to come to life.

Five to six cop cars surrounded the front yard of Jeongin’s house, Jisung started running up the hill to get a closer look, breaths becoming harsh and panicked. The cops noticed him, trying to get him to not get too close, sensing his panic.

“No just let me see, I need to see if he’s okay!” Jisung fights, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Jisung was getting impatient, but that was when he locked eyes with Hyunjin, whose eyes were red and rimmed with tears, and time seemed to stop. Next to him was Seungmin, who turned his head to see where Hyunjin was looking, meeting his eyes too, and even Seungmin was crying. This couldn’t be good.

“Jisung.” Hyunjin choked out.

“What’s going on?” Jisung asked, hoping his fears weren’t a reality, pushing past the policeman, who let him go.

“It’s Jeongin…he…” Hyunjin sniffled.

“No…” Jisung said, shaking his head, feeling the inevitable tightness in his chest.

“Jeongin was shot Jisung…twice…there was nothing they could do…” Seungmin says, clenching his fists.

“No!” Jisung painfully yells, gripping the fabric covering his chest.

“They said it was some kind of gang activity…he was just a kid…” Seungmin sniffles, breaths stuttering as he fights back sobs.

Jisung’s mind is a rapid collage of every memory he had with Jeongin. He remembers when he taught Jeongin how to ride a skateboard, how to roll a joint, smoke a cigarette, how to have fun, how to not put up with bullshit his parents would try to get him to do. Jeongin was two years younger than him, only 17 years old, and was killed before he could even become an adult. Jisung felt as if he failed Jeongin, like he didn’t do enough to protect him, and he was a horrible influence. Maybe he would still be alive if he never met him.

Jisung couldn’t cry. He felt nothing but a pit of darkness ripping him apart from the depths of his chest. If Jisung was spiraling this morning, then right now he might just go catatonic. Jisung seemed to reach mental capacity, and something inside of him broke, all the stress built up seemed to snap all at once, and he felt nothing. At this point, Jisung could only think of one thing that might help with the fact that he was mentally no longer there.

“Seungmin?” He asks, eyes void of any light.

“Yeah?”

“Do you have a blunt on you?” Jisung’s words seem to break something in the air.

Hyunjin’s head snaps in his direction. “Dude, are you fucking kidding me?” His eyes are red and bloodshot.

“What?”

“The fuck do you mean what?! Jeongin’s is dead! He’s gone forever and you’re thinking about WEED?!” He yells, anger boiling up at the thought that Jisung cares more about weed than his friend.

“It’s not like that.” He says firmly.

“Then what is it huh?! Cause right now it just seems like you don’t even care.”

“Fuck you! Let me deal with my shit how I want!” Jisung yells.

“You aren’t dealing with anything! You’re just trying to get high and act like our friend isn’t DEAD!” Hyunjin yells through his tears.

“Butt out of my fucking business Hyunjin. All you do is fucking hover.” Jisung snaps.

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that? Do you even care about Jeongin?” Hyunjin asks.

“Of course I fucking care! You’re the one too focused on me! Do you even care?!”

“Don’t you dare fucking go there.” Hyunjin flares up. Jisung knew how close Hyunjin and Jeongin were, they were practically brothers.

“I’ll fucking go there if you wanna be a hypocrite!” Jisung yells.

“Guys please…” Seungmin tries to calm them down, but they couldn’t hear him over their own screaming.

“You know what Sung? You are so selfish. You only ever care about yourself.” Hyunjin says, his words trembling.

“Yeah well it’s hard to care when you’re the one I hang out with.”

Those words stung, hearing it from his own best friend was cruel. “You’re such an ass Jisung, you know you were an ass to Jeongin too. This is probably your fault for fucking with that gang member, I fucking told you!” Those words were like daggers to Jisung’s heart.

“You know what? You don’t have to take out your anger on everyone all the fucking time just because you didn’t get accepted into that stupid art school.” If it was gonna be personal, Jisung was gonna make it personal.

“At least I graduated fucking high school and have a stable job.” Hyunjin grumbled.

“Yeah? Well at least my parents fucking wanted me.” Jisung referred to how Hyunjin was adopted, knowing it was a sensitive topic.

“Dude, too far.” Seungmin butts in.

“Yeah?” Hyunjin nods “Well look how that turned out! My parents don’t fucking beat me, and that’s why I’m not a piece of shit like you!” He yells, that was the final straw, Jisung lunged at Hyunjin, and they threw punches and kicks, fighting until two police officers yanked them apart.

“You guys what the fuck? Jeongin wouldn’t have wanted this!” Seungmin started to cry again as the two were being held apart.

“Yeah well he’s not here is he!” Jisung yelled, yanking himself out of the grasp of the police officer, chest heaving, eyes watering.

“Jisung, just go…” Seungmin says.

“Okay, I see how it is…” Jisung shakes his head, turning and making his way down the hill, taking out a cigarette and lighting it as the tears started to fall.

“Fuck…” He groans, choking down a sob.

He spends the next few hours walking around the city, smoking his brains out and thinking about every person he’s pushed away, realizing he was the problem. Jisung decides then and there that every bad thing that has happened in his life was his fault, that Jeongin’s death was his fault. Everything started to make sense. They said something about gang activity, as in probably the biker gang Jisung had stupidly fucked with. Minho. Why did he have to just stroll into Jisung’s life and fuck it all up within a few days? Jisung shouldn’t have been there that day, shouldn’t have stolen and gotten Jeongin involved in his life, he shouldn’t have existed.

Jisung remembers an old high rise apartment building that was abandoned because of weakness in the structure that the owners refused to fix or destroy, and he used to hang out there. He could go there. Slipping under the fence, his cigarette burned to his fingertips, so he looked in his box for another, and it was empty. Sighing, Jisung hopped the barriers, entering the dark stairwell and walking up to the sixth floor, going to the roof. The sun was going out, and at that spot, Jisung could see the sun setting behind the buildings of the city, and it was beautiful.

“What the fuck have I been doing with my life…?” He asks himself, walking to the ledge to look down below. “Hyunjin was right…” Jisung’s breath stutters, and he tries not to cry, feeling every emotion as his mind becomes a loud overwhelming jumble of static and darkness.

“Everything is my fucking fault.” He grunts.

His tears fall down all six floors, onto the ground below, 100 whole feet below.

“Thank god I’m not a cat…” He says, giving himself a weak laugh. “I’d hate to have to do this nine times…” He plants a foot on the ledge, stepping up, looking down.

“I’m sorry Jeongin…” Jisung closes his eyes, he hated feeling, he hated thinking and breathing, he heated living. Jisung leaned forward, almost feeling himself become weightless, warm, free. That was until a hand caught him by the back of his jacket, pulling him back from the ledge, and he felt like he was being plunged into iced cold water as he stumbled onto his butt. “What the- Minho!?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Minho asks, an unreadable expression on his face, looking down at Jisung.

“You! It’s always you!” Jisung lunges up, grabbing Minho by the collar, and Minho grabs him by his wrists.

“What are you talking about?” Minho asks, slightly stumbling.

“They said it was gang activity! You killed Jeongin! All because of a stupid motorcycle! He was just a kid you fucking monster!” Jisung began crying, his voice breaking harshly.

“Jisung calm down.” Minho gripped Jisung’s wrists harshly, his arm that wasn’t latched to his collar was trying to wriggle free.

“No! You did this!” Jisung fought and fought with all his remaining strength, but couldn’t free himself from Minhos grip, starting to sob uncontrollably.

“Jisung. Look at me.” Minho pulled Jisung close to him, forcing him to look into his eyes, stunning him, leaving him silent. “I had nothing to do with that. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Me and my guys don’t kill innocent people, especially not for petty reasons.” He says with such firmness that it’s believable.

Jisung starts sobbing, his knees giving out, and Minho slowly lowers him onto the floor, kneeling in front of him, and Jisung looks away as his breaths stutter. It takes a while for him to calm down as well as release Minho’s collar, and he feels pathetic.

After a while, Minho backs up and sits with his back to the ledge, right across from where Jisung sits on the floor. “Why’d you try to kill yourself…?”

Jisung waits a beat, contemplating what to say. “I ran out of cigarettes.” He stares at his shoes.

Minho lets out a breathy chuckle. “Makes sense…”

“Why’d you stop me…?” Jisung asks after even more silence.

“I still need my money.” He says. “But I’m not gonna just take from you, I’ll make a deal.”

“Whats the deal?” Jisung peeks up, not really having anything else to do.

“I’ll get you a new board.” Minho takes a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket.

“And what’s the catch?” Jisung eyes the cigarette.

“You have to make money for me.” Minho says with the cigarette between his lips, lighting it, the tip slightly glowing.

“Like what? I’m not selling my fucking body.” Jisung quips.

Minho lets out a genuine laugh, smoke curling around his sculpted features. “No, just pickups and deliveries.” He says, pulling out another cigarette, passing it to Jisung, who leans forward and takes it immediately.

“Well what am I picking up and delivering?” He asks skeptically.

“That’s another thing, you just gotta do the job and don’t ask questions.” He says, holding out his lighter and beckoning Jisung to scoot closer, which he gets up and settles next to Minho against the ledge, leaving a bit of space.

“And then I get a brand new board just like that?” Jisung crinkles his brow.

“Yup, simple as that.” He says, leaning in to light Jisung’s cigarette, catching the younger’s eyes on him before they dart away immediately.

A beat or two passes. “I don’t have a choice, do I...?” Jisung smiled weakly.

“No, not really.” Minho tilts his head up, blowing out smoke, and Jisung has to fight himself to stop looking at his Adam’s apple out the corner of his eye.

“Okay…when do I start?” He asks, avoiding looking at him, weirded out by the strange desire to keep staring.

“Tomorrow. I’ll find you when it’s time.” He says.

A while passes, they just sit in silence, finishing their cigarettes before Minho gets up, clearing his throat. “Do you need a ride home?” He asks, seemingly out of character, like he has been all night.

“On a bike with one mirror? No thanks, that seems unsafe.” Jisung teases.

“Hey that was your fault.” Minho jabs, a smile on his face.

“You literally backed into me!” Jisung squeals, unsure why he feels content and slightly happy even though he’s trying to argue.

“You weren’t even looking at where you were going, come on.” Minho beckons, rolling his eyes at Jisung’s antics.

“Okay fine, but I still hate you.” Jisung gets up, brushing himself off. “Hey, how did you know I was here?”

“If I didn’t keep track of people who owe me, I’d have no money.” He smirks.

“So you’re like…a debt collector?” Jisung snorts.

“No, more like a money launderer, people trust me, so I have no problem with making them pay me.” Minho says almost sadistically. “You’re not exactly a target though, I just love my bike to pieces and I will get it paid for.” He says.

“I get that, my board was…” Jisung looks down.

“You’ll get a better one, you have my word.”

Jisung follows Minho down the dark stairs, barely able to see, opening his eyes as wide as possible, but that still doesn’t stop him from missing a step, his chest colliding with Minho’s back, feeling more like a brick wall.

“Can you be any more clumsy?” Minho asks, reaching behind him to steady Jisung, who grabs onto his arm.

“What!? It’s like pitch black in here!” He yells, and Minho just laughs at him. Jisung continues to pout despite the fact that he’s clinging to Minho’s arm like a child, telling himself it’s for safety purposes (like he ever cared about safety).

They make it all the way down, Minho swinging the door open, causing Jisung to actually let go.

“You ever ridden a motorcycle before?” Minho asks, grabbing his helmet.

“Nope, never.” He says before the helmet is slapped right on top of his head. “Okay that was harsh.”

“Oh stop your whining.” Minho steps up to Jisung, grabbing the two buckles on each side of his head, fingers brushing against his cheeks, causing his face to lurch back, so Minho pulls on the straps, forcing Jisung’s face forward, closer to his own. “Stop fussing for once, yeah?” He smirks.

Jisung flushes, the closeness being too much, Minho seems to be buckling the helmet and tightening the strap extra slowly on purpose. “I can do that myself…” Jisung grumbles as Minho pulls back.

“So your clumsy ass can put it on wrong? Absolutely not.” He shakes his head, starting up the engine. It roars to life and seems to shake up the ground around them. Okay, maybe Jisung agreed that motorcycles were pretty fucking cool.

Minho watches as Jisung awkwardly shuffles around the back of the motorcycle, holding back a laugh. “Just swing your leg over the back.”

“Yeah yeah I got it.” Jisung hops his way over and onto the seat, deciding to hold onto Minho’s shoulders, which he feels shake with quiet laughter. “Whats so funny?”

“That’s not how you hold on.”

“Then how and I supposed to do it hm?” Jisung asks sassily.

“Like…” He reaches behind him, grabbing Jisung’s arm and wrapping it around his waist, turning to do the same to his other arm. “That.” Jisung freezes in place awkwardly, making Minho laugh, before revving his engine. “You ready?”

“Yeah sure…” Jisung says after a few seconds of silence, and then they’re off.

Jisung can feel the cool night air on his face, and his eyes widen, before squinting at the cold, dry rush that makes his eyes water. Jisung looks around, seeing the city lights become a blur of color, passing in a flash as the roar of the engine vibrates beneath him. Minho’s hair, now lacking confinement because Jisung was currently wearing his helmet, was thrashing violently in the wind, whipping around and almost tickling Jisung’s face. Jisung felt like he was soaring, he’s never gone this fast on his skateboard, and he will probably never be able to replicate this feeling again, so he just enjoys it while it lasts, subconsciously resting his head on Minhos shoulder.

They reach Jisung’s house before he can be lulled to sleep by the buzzing feeling of Minho’s motorcycle. Jisung swings his leg over, almost falling, but his forearm is caught my Minho, who’s already shaking his head. Jisung actually brings his head close to Minho, letting him take the helmet off.

“Hey uh…thanks…” He says awkwardly.

“No problem, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Minho nods.

Jisung turns and walks up to his door, unlocking and opening it, stepping inside with a grin on his face, pure bliss still tingling on his skin before it’s ripped from his body by the sound of a voice.

“I fucking knew it.” Jisung’s father’s voice was low and accusing, it seemed to blanket Jisung in dread. “Knew you were a fucking faggot.” He quips, and Jisung shakes his head frantically.

“No- dad it’s not like that!” He tries, palms out in front of him, but it’s no use.

“You think I can’t see you smiling like a fucking fairy after coming home with your arms wrapped around another dude?! You’re no son of mine.” He growls, yanking Jisung by the hair, bringing him to the kitchen sink and bending him over. “You need to be cleansed.” He says, deranged.

“Stop! Please!” Jisung yelled, but it was no use, he could smell the strong stench of booze in his fathers breath.

“Shut the fuck up, no son of mine is gonna be a fucking homo.” The kitchen sink filled with water, rising as he put a plug at the bottom. Jisung could see his reflection in the water, feeling his own breath hit his face as the water got closer and closer. Jisung was being yanked back by his hair to look at his father in the eye. “You fucking disgust me, I’ll wash the fucking homo out of you boy!” And with that, Jisung was being dunked into cold water, his whole face submerged, and he made the mistake of inhaling, being caught off guard. Jisung coughed and screamed but there was no use, his throat and chest burned.

“I’ll teach you…” His father said, yanking him out of the water, Jisung spat out water, choking and coughing. “I didn’t raise no son of mine to be a disgrace to god.” He says before dunking his head back in the water, and Jisung learned his lesson, holding his breath this time, but his father wasn’t stupid, and waited until Jisung ran out of air, then started choking until he yanked him back out before slamming his head into the counter. Jisung’s knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the floor, his head spinning.

“If I ever see you with a man like that again, I’ll fucking kill you.” He huffed. “You understand me?!”

“Yes…” Jisung whimpered, clutching his face, and his dad finally left him. Jisung sat there shivering on the floor, water running down his face as he coughed, catching his breath. Jisung stumbled his way into his room, finding a dirty towel to dry his hair with before changing his clothes and laying down.

“Things still seem like my fault somehow…”

~~~~~

October 11th, 1987

Jisung walked with his hands in his pockets, head low, avoiding the streets that he and his friends would hang out at.

“I mean like, where the fuck am I supposed to find a gang member?” He says to himself, kicking a stone. It’s almost like timing was on his side, cause he heard the rumble of a bike engine pulling up to his side.

“Was wondering when you’d magically show up.” He greets Minho.

“Your fairy godmother has arrived, make a wish dear.” He says playfully.

Jisung steps forward to get his helmet put on and adjusted, wincing when it taps the fresh bruise on his brow.

“Too tight?” Minho asks.

“Nah I’m all good.” Jisung climbs onto the back of the motorcycle, hesitant to wrap his arms around Minho after last night. Minho drives off, and Jisung is met with the familiar feeling of wind rushing through his ears, silencing everything around him. Jisung sees the streets he grew up in passing by him in a flash almost metaphorically.

The motorcycle stops to a slow in front of a building.

“I’m gonna need you to do a pickup for me, this one specifically I can’t do myself because the patron isn’t exactly friendly with me.” Minho explains, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are they dangerous?” Jisung asks.

“No, not at all.” He chuckles to himself. “But since when did you care about that?” Minho raises a brow.

“Well I’m sure my kind of danger is not the same as your kind of danger…Can I possibly get shot or what?” He asks bluntly.

“Nope, completely harmless, just wouldn’t exactly enjoy seeing my face.” Minho says without giving further info on the person.

“So just grab it and bring it back to you? That’s it?” Jisung asks.

“Well yeah, then we gotta deliver it somewhere, but after that you’re done.” He shrugs. “The apartment number is 103, got it? Just buzz in once and they should give it to you straight up.”

“Got it.” Jisung breathes in and out before walking to the apartment. Jisung of course has the confidence of a full fledged army, but knowing he was dipping his toes into an unknown world of gang activity and violence had him a little on edge. Jisung still strolled in there like he owned the place, watching as the numbers counted down from 115 all the way until he was met with 103.

Jisung remembered what Minho told him, pressing the buzzer once, and waiting for a while. Jisung was just about to buzz again, forgetting that Minho only said once, before the door swung open, and Jisung’s senses we’re attacked with the smell of fabreeze and nail polish.

The person who opened the door was a slim fit woman with blonde hair and freckles, she looked like an angel. She was clad in a fuzzy bright pink coat, with glittery eye makeup, Jisung thought she was earthereal, a beauty sent from the heavens.

“You must be here for the pickup, come in!” Jisung was oh so mistaken. Who stood before him wasn’t a woman, but a man that had the beauty of a woman, and god damn did he make it work. The reason why Jisung knew for sure was the deep timbre of the man’s voice, which did not match his feminine features at all. His voice was bassy and rich, making him feel all warm and tingly.

“Well are you gonna just stand there and gawk or come in?” He asks, a sassy hand on his hip. Jisung nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable as he walked into the house, which was littered in fabrics and jewelry, a mannequin draped in cloth stood in the corner.

“Do you need anything? Water? A snack?” He asks, “Have a seat on the couch.”

“I’m okay, just here for pickup.” Jisung said, stiffly sitting on the couch. The man looked him up and down over his red slim glasses, then walked into the other room. Jisung felt weird, he usually hated anything feminine or gay, always feeling disgusted, but here he felt…safe?

The man walked back into the room, setting a box on the coffee table. “Can I ask you something real quick?”

“Uhh, sure?” Jisung says.

“Minho sent you, didn’t he?” He smirks, leaning closer to Jisung where he sat across on the couch.

“Wha- uh….no…?” Jisung spurts.

“You don’t have to lie, I already know, he’s always been the avoidant type, I told him it’s no biggie.” He rolls his eyes.

“Wait, you’re not like…angry at him?” Jisung asked.

“Oh you poor thing. Let me introduce myself, I’ve been awefully rude.” He gasps dramatically. “My name is Felix, I’m Minho’s ex.”

Ex?!

“What?!” Jisung nearly jumped out of his seat.

“Yeah, we met through a delivery actually, I did it for their little gang, helps pay the rent around here.” He smiles.

“Wait, so you’re cool with him?”

“Of course! You see, Minho can be a little avoidant if he thinks he’s the problem, and he feels a bit awkward about our breakup even though it was almost two years ago. I don’t hate him, I’ve actually been wondering where he’s been.” He explains.

“Why’d you guys break up?” Jisung asks.

“Eh, creative differences. Minho and I weren’t exactly compatible, we just hooked up all the time and then realized that we didn’t even have a lot in common.” He flicks his wrist a few times while telling his story.

Jisung flushes when Felix explains that they had sex. “So you guys are still friends?”

“Well I would like to be, but if Minho doesn’t want that, it’s up to him, but I’m glad to see he’s found somebody who seems to be his exact type.” Felix smirks.

“What?” Jisung flushes.

“Oh come on, no way he hasn’t made moves yet, you’re a little cutie!” Felix beams.

“Oh uh- I don’t…” Jisung trails off, not entirely sure what he was gonna say.

“Oh dear look at the time, I’ve kept you here way longer than I should have, oops! Here you go.” Felix hands him the box.

”Thanks, I’ll see you around Felix.” Jisung calls, liking his new friend, getting up and walking to the door.

“Wait, I never got your name stranger.” Felix giggles, trailing behind him.

“Oh! It’s Jisung, nice meeting you.” Jisung smiles.

Felix opens his door. “Alright then, I’ll see you next time, Jisung.” And with that, Jisung leaves.

Waiting for him outside, Minho squints at Jisung, who is sporting a smile from his new friendly encounter, but it drops when he seems Minho, feeling an uneasy pit settle in his stomach.

“You made friends with him didn’t you?” Minho asks with a smile. “Told you, completely harmless.”

“Y-yeah…” Jisung says uncomfortably, realizing the Minho was gay, and probably had a thing for him. Jisung felt all shaky and awkward, probably just uncomfortable…or something. Jisung handed Minho to box, and he placed it in front of his lap, then took the helmet to put it on Jisung’s head.

“Hey, I can’t see what I’m doing if you’re all the way over there.” He says, tugging on the straps to bring Jisung closer, making the younger turn red, eyes darting. “Alright, just a drop off and then you’re all set.” Minho announces, and Jisung climbs back on.

The ride there was pretty short, as Minho had taken a few shortcuts, but the whole time, Jisung’s thoughts were spiraling out of control. Maybe he’s trying to flirt with me, or this is him trying to take me on a date, or- or what if you want’s to have sex with me?!?! Jisung is knocked out of his own head when the come to a stop in front of an old house.

“This is it, just go in there and find a guy named BamBam, got it? They’re probably partying or some shit, just watch out for a guy named Seungri, okay?” He says.

“Got it.” Jisung says, taking off and handing Minho his helmet.

Jisung takes the box, walking up to the doorstep, knocking, looking back at Minho when nobody answers.

“Knock louder!” He shouts, and Jisung nods, pounding on the door with the side of his fist.

The door opens, and a large cloud of smoke smacks Jisung in the face. “Uh, I have something for BamBam?”

“Come on in.” A tall man with glasses says, he’s holding a beer can and a cigarette in the hand that’s not holding the door. He steps aside so Jisung can make his way in. “BamBam is over there.” He points to a couch with a man sitting there, laughing with his head tilted back, two girls on either side of him.

Jisung makes his way through the crowd of intoxicated bodies, the smoke in the room thick enough to inspire even Jisung to cough. Finally reaching the couch, he clears his through.

“This is yours, it’s from Felix.” Jisung says, not exactly sure how he’s supposed to announce what he’s doing.

“Hey thanks man, tell Minho I said hi.” He says, grabbing the box after unraveling his arm from one of the girls.

“I will.” Jisung nods.

“Feel free to stay if you’d like, grab a drink or a smoke, don’t be shy.” He says. BamBam opens the box, letting out a woooo when he sees the contents, making Jisung curious as to what exactly he delivered. BamBam then pulled out a sleek hand gun, holding it like he really was gonna use it.

“Thanks, tempting, but I’m okay.” Jisung says nervously, a wave a of fear running through him as he realized he was standing right across from a man with a gun. He decided to leave, not sure how enthusiastic Minho would be about him partying on the job.

As Jisung makes his way through the crowd again, he’s stopped by a large body. “Hey new face, where do you think you’re going?” He says, alcohol laced, Jisung almost shivers at how it reminds him of his father.

“I’m leaving, excuse me.” Jisung tries to slip past, but the guy grabs his wrist.

“Stay for a while yeah? My names Seungri, whats yours?” Shit. Seungri. The guy Minho warned him about. He had to get out of there.

Jisung tries to wriggle his wrist free. “Not interested, let me go please.” He says firmly.

“Awe, how cute. Come on, you know you wanna stay.” Seungri tightens his grip, before it slips, somebody had pushed his chest.

“Dude, you’re drunk, hands off.” A muscular guy yells, the one who had saved him.

“Come on Chan, don’t be a cockblock.” Gross.

“You all good? Sorry about that, I’ll make sure you leave.” The muscular guy says, guiding Jisung away. “Names Chan, I’m a friend of Minho’s.”

“I’m Jisung, thanks for saving my ass back there.” Jisung scratches the back of his neck as they make their way towards the door.

“No problem, a friend of Minho is a friend of mine, he usually does these deliveries himself, odd of him to have somebody else do it.” Chan explains.

“Haha, yeah, I owe him some money.” Jisung winces.

”Well shit, what happened?” He laughs.

“I accidentally rammed into his bike, broke his mirror clean off, just doing this one delivery and then I’m done.” He explains, shrugging.

“Hm. Minho must like you if he’s only making you do that, figured he’d have you mopping his floor and feeding him grapes.” He laughs, and Jisung can’t tell if he’s joking or not. The door opens, and Jisung’s eyes are forced into a squint as the unforgiving sun attacks his eyes.

“Chan!” Minho’s eyes light up, in a way that makes Jisung feel odd, almost upset that he never got excited to see Jisung, maybe he didn’t like him.

“How you been, Min?” Chan walks Jisung over to Minho, who is leaned against his bike, pushing off to clap their hands together in a quick shake.

“Good, everything alright in there?” Minho raised an eyebrow.

“Eh, Seungri being a stupid drunk again.” Chan rolls his eyes, and Minho’s gaze darkens.

“It’s alright, nothing happened, I told him off before he could do anything to your friend here.” He reassured Minho, a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, I owe you one.” Minho says, which was weird, cause all he did was save Jisung, surely it wasn’t that important.

”It’s all good Min, you know I don’t expect nothin.” Chan bats with his hand. “But I’ll see you next time dude.” He nods.

“Alright, catch you next time.” Minho calls back as Chan walked back to the house.

Minho turned to Jisung. “You alright? I told you to keep an eye out.” Minho scolds, almost looking…concerned…?

“I’m fine, job done, I did good right?” Jisung smirk’s concededly, looking off into the distance with a triumphant expression

“Yeah yeah, you did good.” Minho chuckles.

”So when do I get my board back?” Jisung asks, turning to Minho, whose face suddenly looks unreadable.

“What?” Jisung registers too slow that Minho is looking at his brow.

Minho’s fingers slowly reach up to gently part Jisung’s bangs, resting right before the huge dark bruise on his forehead starts. “Jisung…who…” He asks.

Jisung is stunned, Minho was caressing his face, so gently Jisung almost forgot he was hurt there.

“Jisung who did this to you?” Minho’s face was no longer unreadable, Jisung was sure. Minho was concerned, almost protective.

“Who hurt you?” He asks, softer, brushing the hair out of his face, and Jisung’s heart started pounding in his chest.

The feeling was unfamiliar and different. It felt heavy and light, warm and cold, it was so overwhelming. He remembered they were about in the open, and then he was filled with dread. Jisung didn’t like it. He hated it. He didn’t want this. This was not Jisung. Jisung didn’t like boys. Jisung wasn’t gay.

He swatted Minho’s hand away.

“Don’t touch me.” He says coldly.

“Jisung, I’m serious, what-?” Minho tried to step closer.

”Stop Minho, I’m not stupid! I get it if I have to be around you to do these stupid missions, but I’m not a fucking faggot!” Jisung yells, and he knows he fucked up.

Minho’s eyes close, like he’s grounding himself. “I’ll have your board tomorrow morning.” Minho says, swinging his leg over his bike and putting his helmet on himself.

“What are you doing?” Jisung’s voice quivers.

“I doubt you wanna get a ride from a fag, Jisung.” He turns, starting his engine, waiting a bit before speeding off, leaving Jisung on the dark street.

Jisung groans, burying his face in his hands. “I’m so fucking stupid.” Jisung feels that emptiness return, and he hates that he knows where his mind was going with Minho.

Jisung runs home, not caring about the burning sensation in his lungs, he didn’t care about the pain, didn’t care about the ache in his legs. Jisung pants at his front door, clutching his chest, opening his door, thankfully finding his father passed out cold on the couch, not waking up any time soon. He makes his way to his room, then into his bathroom. Jisung splashes his face with cold water, feeling dizzy and deranged. Jisung looked at himself, and he hated his reflection, hated who he saw in the mirror.

Jisung couldn’t understand himself, couldn’t understand why he was such an asshole, why he pushed everyone away. Jisung hated what he was looking at, who he was looking at. He felt nothing but an indescribable overwhelming darkness, like a black hole where his heart was supposed to be, destroying anything that gets too close. He felt a sickening emptiness that spread through his bones, and emptiness that manifested into rage and confusion.

Crack!

Jisung was an asshole. Everyone in the city knew Jisung, and not for any good reason. In short, a 19 year old high school dropout with enough cigarettes to kill a horse, a minor criminal record, the ego of a lion, enough rage and energy to fuel a nuclear power plant, and a beat-up skateboard he rode everywhere. Jisung was always the grubby grunge boy who never obeyed anyone living under the sun.

Although Jisung’s confidence and attitude was flashy, he was never popular. Sure, nobody would lose a fight to him in high school, but it didn’t stop anyone from trying. Jisung had a few friends, Jeongin, Hyunjin, and Seungmin, which were apart of his clique in school, and he hung out with every second of every day. He hung out with Hyunjin and Jeongin the most, as Seungmin went to an uppity college deeper into the city, but he was still their favorite weed supplier. Hyunjin worked at the skate shop, and Jeongin worked at his dad’s car dealership a few blocks down.

As for Jisung, he was the worst off. Jisung was unemployed, and only relied on the money his alcoholic father got from disability, stealing it when his father was passed out on the couch. Along with the money, Jisung also stole cigarettes and alcohol regularly, and his father would beat him whenever he found out, but Jisung had gotten used to it way back when he was a kid. When Jisung had no more money after him or his father spent it all, he would either stave off his hunger with cigarettes, or dig through the trash. His friends would also cover him sometimes, offering food they couldn’t finish, which he would never refuse. When things got tight for all of them, Jisung had an elaborate plan to steal from anybody without getting caught.

Although Jisung had a chest that seemed to never deflate, he would suffer alone at night, depression and anxiety ate away at him when nobody was watching. Jisung had always felt helpless, as if nobody would ever understand his confusing feelings, so he swore to never show them to anyone. Jisung drowned himself in drugs, alcohol, violence, and anything that can distract him from the dark pit that would swallow him whole at night while he curled up on his disgusting stripped mattress that sat in the corner of his cluttered room. Jisung knew his life was going to shit, so why not fuck it up more if it’s never gonna get better anyways right?

Jisung found skating when he was in high school, Hyunjin announced he got a job at the skate shop, and ended up getting 15 year old Jisung his first skateboard. Jisung never learned anything too extreme, just Ollie’s and a kickflip he landed once. What Jisung loved about skateboarding was that he could go wherever he wanted, and when that smoggy city air flowed through his hair, he felt free, like he was flying, and his world wasn’t crashing down around him. Jisung would be out for hours, just skating around the city, going as far and as fast as he could, he felt free, knowing he could choose where he went, like he had control over something. Jisung had broken his arm once, he hit a car going the opposite way on the street, and he rolled over the hood. When Jisung woke up, he knew he was fucked, but jumped through the window, walking all the way home to where he found Hyunjin with his board. Jisung’s cast was one of the best things that happened to him, and he let his friends sign it as well as draw as many dicks on it as possible. Within a few months, it started to stink, bad, which led Jisung to cut it up and pry it open with a kitchen knife, almost stabbing his eye out.

Beyond his shitty living situation and irresponsible life choices that are bound to catch up to him, Jisung enjoyed life. Jisung had a few really good memories that kept him sane, like the first time he got high, sneaking onto the roof of a convenience store with his friends, swapping cheesy jokes and laughing so hard that they were found and chased off, stumbling over their legs as they laughed even harder, or the time Hyunjin let him borrow his brand new discman D-50 and he heard Wild Side by Mötley Crüe for the first time. Jisung and his friends were just normally that chaotic, so no wonder Jisung would run into some trouble…

October 8th, 1987

“You know what to do baby J, don’t get performance anxiety, or I’ll kill you~” Jisung chimed with a charming smile, a hand placed on his friend Jeongin’s shoulder.

“He’s got it, I’ll be out here, don’t get shot by the cashier, he looks new.” Hyunjin teases.

Jisung struts into the convenience store like he owns the place, skateboard tucked under his arm as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his Levi’s, headed straight for the snack isle. Jisung and his friends were bored, and wanted Jeongin to join the fun of five finger discounts after trying to convince him for years, plus, they were out of cigarettes. Jisung looked among the aisles of sodas, not interested in anything.

“Pork soda?” Jisung scoffed quietly to himself, grabbing the can and turning it in his hand. “This can’t be real, why would anyone buys this?” He snorts.

The bell above the door rang, the cashier said his sloppy welcoming line, and Jeongin walked in, sweating. Jisung rolled his eyes, going along with the plan. Jisung strolled up to the cashier, watching out the corner of his eye as Jeongin made his way to the back of the store, looking at the snacks. Jisung set the pork soda on the counter, looking out the glass door.

“Not a lot of customers here huh.” Jisung said nonchalantly, he’s done this plan more than a billion times, different stores, different cashiers, total cheat.

“Yeah…” The cashier said, slightly squinting his eyes, seeming skeptical of Jisung, but ringing him up anyways. “That’ll be 38 cents.” He said flatly. Jisung lagged for a second, waiting for the next step, but wasn’t gonna wait forever, so he did what he does best, argue.

“What? Last week it was 35 cents! You’re trying to rip me off!” He yelled, hoping it would get Jeongin to hurry up and get on with it.

“Well I don’t do the pricing, either buy it or get out.” The cashier was not having it, which, Jisung didn’t mind at all.

“You’re trying to pull a trick, but I’m not stupid, it’s 35 cents!” Jisung yells.

Before the cashier can say another word, a loud crash is heard from the back of the store, bingo. Jisung turned around, and the store clerk got up to go check out what happened, and that’s when Jisung made his move.

Jumping up, Jisung crawled over the counter, stuffing his pants and jacket with cigarettes of all kinds until he saw Jeongin rounding the corner, avoiding the store clerk, opening the door to the store. Jisung hopped over the counter, hearing a “Hey!” from behind him, laughing manically as he ran through the door, Jeongin and Hyunjin behind him. Jisung threw his skateboard onto the floor, hopping on, pushing his board faster, laughing so hard his eyes watered.

Jisung went a good distance from the store before looking back at his friends, probably to make some joke about the cashier being an idiot, which was a big mistake. For a split second, Jisung’s friends looked startled, and right when he was about to look at whatever got them so wide-eyed, his body collided with something, his board getting stuck, sending him flying forward onto the ground.

“Shit…” Hyunjin said, looking at Jisung on the ground who was clutching his side.

“What the fuck…” Jisung said, sitting up, seeing glass on the floor. Jisung looked up, seeing what he hit, which was more like who he hit.

Before him was a sleek, deep dark red, 1982 Honda motorcycle, which now had only one mirror. Looking further up, he saw who was actually on it, the man clad in a black leather jacket and dark grey jeans that did nothing to hide his enormous thighs. The man unbuckled his helmet, taking it off, and god Jisung’s heart stopped. The man on the motorcycle was more like a Greek god on a motorcycle. The face he had did not belong in the world of engine fuel and all too aggressive masculinity. The man had a really sculpted face, with cheekbones higher than Jisung on a Friday night and the eyes of an all too hungry feline. The man looked down at Jisung with nothing but disgust, like Jisung had just rolled around in shit and then went through a dumpster.

The man scoffed. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…” He rolled his eyes, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue before swinging his leg over the bike and setting the helmet down on the seat, taking a few steps toward Jisung. “Are you okay?” He said, sounding like speaking to Jisung was painful. He extended his hand to help him up, but Jisung would never receive help if he was bleeding out right now.

“All good,” He said, not even glancing at the man’s hand as he pushed himself off the ground, brushing himself off. “Just watch where you’re going with that thing, I could have died.” Jisung says, grabbing his soda off the ground.

The man scoffed, “Excuse me?” He smirked, finding Jisung’s arrogance humorous. “You ran into me, kid.”

“Bullshit, it’s your fault for lugging around this giant scrap of metal and not even looking where.” Jisung grabs his skateboard, trying to lift it, but a heavy, booted foot stomped on it, keeping it there on the floor next to his front wheel. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He asks, getting close to the man’s face.

“Are you dumb? Or just plain stupid.” The man says, looking down at Jisung with eyes laced with venom, he was definitely not someone to be messed with. “You’re gonna pay for my bike.” He says.

Jisung laughs. “Hell no I’m not paying for your scrappy ass grease-mobile.” He crosses his arms.

“Yeah? You’ll pay for it.” He warns.

“You can’t do shit.” Jisung tilts his head without a fear in the world.

“The names Minho,” He says. “Get used to it, cause I’ll come back for my money, don’t make me lose my patience.” He says sternly, putting his helmet back on, swinging his leg over his bike, eyes landing on what was in Jisung’s hand. “Pork soda? What a pathetic little thing…” He tuts, chuckling and backing up, speeding away as Jisung’s cheeks flushed, in embarrassment of course.

“Dude! None of you guys had my back?” Jisung scowls, picking up his skateboard and turning around to see his friends, who looked a bit intimidated. “What the fuck you guys!” He yells, pissed.

“Dude, you are seriously dense sometimes.” Hyunjin says, stepping up to Jisung.

“Fuck you!” Jisung quips.

“We’re serious, you know those were The Whips, right?” Hyunjin asks.

“As in the motorcycle gang? So what?” Jisung scoffs. “They’re just a bunch of assholes on stupid bikes.”

Hyunjin facepalms, shaking his head. “Okay, well you believe what you want but we’re staying out of it, sorry dude.”

“Whatever. Great to know my friends are a bunch of pussies…” He says. Hyunjin looks at the floor, knowing how stubborn Jisung can get.

“Hey lift that sorry ass chin, I just scored a fortune in cigs!” Jisung whips out two packs, his eyebrows wiggling.

“Haha holy shit you’re insane Jisung!” Jeongin beamed, admiring Jisung, which probably wasn’t the greatest example for his younger peer.

The boys spent the rest of that night fucking around, skating about and smoking all they wanted with their now unlimited supply of cigarettes.

“Bye, see you guys tomorrow!” Jisung says, fist bumping his friends.

“Yeah if that Minho guy doesn’t kill you.” Hyunjin snorts.

“Hah! He hasn’t got the balls, I even forgot about the fucker!” Jisung laughs, throwing a peace sign and rounding the corner, heading back home.

Skating home, he thinks about Minho. The way he spoke, his all too cool demeanor, and the way his face didn’t even look real, Jisung was conflicted. Jisung came to the conclusion that he hated Minho, he hated how his heart had fluttered, probably from fear, and he hated that.

Jisung took a deep breath before unlocking his front door, pushing it open, hoping his dad was knocked out on the couch. Slipping his shoes off, Jisung made his way in, seeing his dad watching TV, wide awake, but definitely not sober.

“Fuck did you go?” He slurred.

“Just out with friends…” Jisung said flatly.

“Y’know, your mother used to do that, be out all night, that slut was screwing everyone on the block…” He grumbled. “That what you're doing? You better not be hanging around no fucking fairies!” He got up.

“I’m not…” Jisung avoided eye contact.

“That’s why I had to kill her, that slut didn’t deserve to live, you think you do? Huh?!” He yelled, lunging forward, grabbing Jisung by the hair. “Answer me boy!” He tells.

“No!” Jisung screamed.

“I should fucking kill you, just like I did to your whore mother!” He yelled, throwing Jisung to the ground. “You’re pathetic.”

Jisung waited until his dad had laid back down, all his energy used up from throwing Jisung around, and got up, quietly going to his room, where he laid down on his dirty mattress. Sometimes Jisung wondered if his dad was telling the truth, and had actually killed his mother, but all he knew was drunken anger and incoherent grumbling. He stared into the darkness until he fell asleep, the only thing in his mind was a single word.

Pathetic.

~~~~~

October 9th, 1987

“Shit!” Jisung spit his last word before he collided with the pavement. “Ow.”

“What did I tell you?!” Hyunjin yells as Seungmin laughs, clutching his side, he was visiting for the weekend. Jeongin was out for the day. “You’re gonna break your arm again and then me and Seung are gonna have to break out of the hospital.”

“Nah I’m out of that, and if he breaks his arm he’ll probably walk it off and then die from it or something.” Seungmin snickers.

“Yeah yeah, I landed it once, I swear!” He yells, getting up.

”You sure you were even awake?” Seungmin quips.

“Fuck you. I’d like you to try and do a kickflip!” Jisung turns, looking at where his board went, eyes following it to where it had abruptly stopped, under a large familiar boot. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” His shoulders sagged, and he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Oh, you thought I was joking?” Minho stood before him, smoking a cigarette, arms folded over his chest.

“Well no shit! You drive around in a clown mobile with a bunch of circus freaks.” Jisung snorts, turning to his friends, who are quiet. Jisung knew Hyunjin was out of it when it came to Minho, but even Seungmin the savage, who would give anyone the finger, was silent.

“Walk with me.” Minho demands, throwing his cigarette in the floor and stomping it out.

“Suck my dick how about that?” Jisung smirks, tilting his head tauntingly.

“You want your board back or what?” Minho barks, patience running thin.

Jisung grunts. “Fine.” He huffs, crossing his arms. Minho picks up his board and leads him behind the store they were congregating in the front of.

“I figured you don’t have my money,” Minho says calmly, setting the bottom of Jisung’s board down, keeping the top of it between his fingers.

“You don’t know that. I have plenty, just not wasting it on a cuck like you.” He spits, still sporting a shit-eating grin.

“You don’t. That’s why you had to do something as pathetic as steal a fucking soda.” His eyes grow darker, colder.

Jisung’s demeanor shifted at that word. “You know what? Fuck you and your stupid as bike!” Jisung turns to leave, but the entrance is blocked by a very muscular man.

“I didn’t say you could leave.” Minho says behind him.

Jisung scoffs, turning around. “You know what? People like you are the scum of the earth, with your stupid bikes and stupid attitude, well you’re nothing without your fucking clown group.” Jisung, points a finger at Minho, fuming.

“And what are you without a skateboard? Hm?” Minho says, looking at Jisung’s skateboard in his hand.

“Way more useful than you’ll ever be, you’re just a pathetic loser with a shiny piece of trash on wheels. I bet that thing is just compensation.” Jisung smirks like he just won.

“Compensation for what exactly?” Minho smirks like he has a plan.

Jisung steps up to him. “You probably can’t get any women because of how small your dick is, your bike is your only redeeming quality.” Jisung says coldly.

Minho smirks like he knows something Jisung doesn’t. “Oh yeah? Let’s see who you are without your pathetic little board.” Minho snaps, throwing Jisung’s skateboard to the muscled man, nodding.

“what are you-?” Jisung yells before pieces of wood are splintering towards him, the muscled man had smashed his board against the wall, splitting it in half, and both pieces clatter to the ground. “What did you…” Jisung looks down at the broken pieces of his freedom before snapping his head back to Minho, who just looked at Jisung with no expression.

“I warned you kid.” Minho says coldly.

“You.” Jisung says to Minho, pure rage flowing through his veins. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Jisung lunges at Minho, who grabs his wrists, pushing him against the wall. Jisung tries to grab him, punch him, anything, but Minho has him completely defenseless, squirming in his grasp, grunting. Jisung tries to knee him in the crotch, but Minho pins his leg to the wall with his own knee, bringing his face close enough that Jisung can feel his breath on his face.

“Just stop.” Minho says. “I’m not about to fight a kid.”

“I’m not a kid, I’m 19!” He yells, he squirms, using all of his steam, a heavy feeling in his heart he desperately tries to convince himself is just anger.

“Exactly, you’re just a kid.” He says, shoving him firmly against the wall before backing up, and Jisung doesn’t try anything, frustration boiling within himself as he huffs and puffs with anger.

“What, are you like 30?” Jisung fumes.

“23.”

Minho leaves him in the alley, walking away with his hands in his pockets, stopping right before he walks out of sight.

“You will repay me one way or another.” He says without turning to Jisung, then walks out of sight.

“Fuck!” Jisung screams, sinking down against the wall, burying his face in his hands, not even wanting to see what remains of his board. “That fucking asshole…” Jisung’s voice breaks on his last word, fighting back tears. Looking over at the two halves of his board, Jisung breaks, softly sobbing into his arms. Jisung’s board was the center of his life, his wings, his freedom, and some hotshot biker destroyed it with a nod of his head.

“I fucking hate him…” Jisung whispers, picturing Minho in his mind, feeling nothing but deep hatred and rage. “I fucking hate him.”

As the sun sets, Jisung rubs his face with the back of his sleeve, getting up, not bothering to look at his broken board. Jisung hates feeling sorry for himself, he hates feeling the emptiness deep inside of his chest. Dragging his feet home, Jisung feels dizzy with anger, feeling like he could explode, but exhausted to a point where he just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

Pushing his front door open, Jisung doesn’t hear or see his father from how deep in thought he is.

“Fucking answer me you piece of shit!” He hears his father yell, and he was done.

“What do you want?” Jisung asks, tired.

“Fuck you say to me you little shit?!” His father screams, but Jisung doesn’t seem to care.

“You heard me.” Jisung says between his teeth, fists clenching to his sides.

Jisung’s father gets up, making his way towards Jisung, “I’ll teach you not to fucking talk to me like that!” He raises his voice before punching Jisung straight in the jaw, and he stumbles, but could care less. Instead, Jisung looks at his father coldly, and before his father can hit him back, Jisung loses it.

Before he can register it, his father is on the floor, both hands cupping his face. “Fuck! You just broke my face you stupid little cunt!” His dad yells, blood dripping from between his fingers. Jisung leaves, not bothering taking anything, as his everything was his board.

Jisung cries as he walks through the neighborhood, softly hiccuping into the silence of the street, not bothering to wipe his tears. Jisung hated feeling pathetic and weak. His heart is heavy as he shoves his hands in his pockets, he feels empty and broken, like as much as things never mattered to him, he truly had nothing anymore. Making his way towards a quieter part of the city near Jeongin’s house, Jisung settles behind a dumpster, sitting against the wall, listening to the sounds of the city nightlife until he passes out from exhaustion.

Your book was good. It was getting to the good part, the climax, the part you needed to know, when your oh so attached boyfriend walks into the room.

“Baby~ what are you doing my love?” He asks, coming up behind you, placing his hands on the arm rests of the chair you’re sitting on.

“I’m busy Chan, not right now.” Your eyes don’t move from the book, but you get distracted and lose where you were, trying to find it again.

“Baby~,” He presses on.

“Honey~ my love~ Darling~…” He keeps going.

You break, turning your spinning chair, setting the book on the desk.

“What do you want?” You ask bluntly, crossing your arms.

“Your attention,” He smiles innocently, coming up to you. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here Chan, but I’m reading.” You say, turning back to your desk.

“Baby wait,” He says, turning your chair back around. Chan goes closer, kneeling between your legs. “Baby please? Just fifteen minutes and then you can go back to reading!” He begs, like a dog wanting to play with their owner so badly.

“No Chan, stop interrupting, when I’m done we can hang out.” You say.

“Come on, I’ll make it worth your while…” He suggests, smirking, thinking he’s winning, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs that are resting on each side of his waist.

“No.” You say flatly, crushing his hopes and dreams.

“Please? I’ll make you feel so good, we can do whatever you want…” He’s getting desperate.

“Anything I want?” You ask, smirking.

“Anything, I promise.” He looks determined, his hands stilling on your thighs.

“Well then I want you to leave me alone for a bit while I read my book.” You drop your smile, leaning forward, then scooting away and back into the desk, picking your book up and getting back to reading.

Chan looks like you physically wounded him.

“Baby…” He frowns.

“Nothing is stopping me from reading my book.” You say firmly, his last warning.

“Nothing?” He asks, a smirk forming on his face.

“Uh huh…” You say, not registering what he’s saying, reading your book.

“So no matter what I do…you won’t stop reading that book…?” He asks, and you turn to him, eyes narrowing, skeptical of his antics, but you just scowl, looking back at your book. You hear him shuffling around, then you feel him brush against your leg.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he crawls under the desk.

“Don’t worry about me baby, you said I can’t stop you from reading, keep your word.” He says, a dangerous look in his eyes.

You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling unsure, but not afraid of any of Chan’s challenges, so you do exactly that. As you read a scene when the character start making out after finally confessing, you feel Chan’s hand slide up your thigh.

“Chan.” You say firmly, not looking away from the book.

“You’re not gonna stop reading, are you?” He asks playfully. You just groan, and continue reading, trying to focus. You try your best to not notice him, but his hand slides higher. You read. You try to read. The characters start getting frisky, every word in the book only fueling the flames that Chan is fanning between your legs. As the characters throw themselves onto the bed, they start touching each other, and it gets intense, and your mind is trying to differentiate reality from your book as Chan slides your shorts down your legs.

Chan starts kissing your inner thighs, inhaling your scent. “What do you read about baby?” He asks lowly. “What are you reading about…that gets you this wet…” He growls.

Your breath hitches, brain fighting as you feel his fingers ghost over the wet patch on your panties. “Focus baby…” He laughs. “You said nothing will stop you from reading,” His voice drops, and he presses his thumb to your clothes clit. “So don’t fucking stop.” He commands, your hips stuttering as you gasp.

Your eyes dart across the pages, trying to make sense of the letters, trying to find your spot when-

Chan’s hot mouth is on your clothed pussy, dragging his tongue over your wet panties, and you moan. You angle your hips, pushing them forward, your head tilting back.

“Read your fucking book.” He demands, and you try, you really do, but English suddenly isn’t a language you can read, the words becoming a blurry jumble of letters. He presses his tongue into your clit, you whine as your panties create a horrible barrier.

“Chan please…” You whine.

“What did I tell you?” He asks, looking like a predator, and you were mere prey. He was playing with his food. “Look at your book, if you look at me again you aren’t coming at all, understand?” He asks, and you regret even picking up every book you’ve ever read.

His tongue returns to your clothed clit, making you whine, but you keep the book in front of your eyes. “Read.” He demands against your underwear.

“I am…” you squeal as he lightly bites your clit, snapping your underwear against your throbbing pussy.

“Out loud.” He demands, and your heart stops. “I wanna hear what has all my baby’s attention, what gets you wet, what keeps you occupied and horny when my cock could be buried in this tight little cunt.” He growls, and you swear you could cum right then and there.

“But no, you just have to read fiction instead of getting the real thing.” Was Chan jealous of the books you read? It didn’t matter, you could throw all of them in a bonfire for him right now, you were done with these stupid books. “So you wanna read so bad? Fucking read then.” He commanded, smacking your clit, making you gasp, almost looking at him, remembering his threat. Your eyes dashed across the pages, trying to find anything, anything at all that you could actually read.

“H-he d-dragged his hands up her thighs, stopping at t-the hem of her skirt, then sliding them up…” You read, breath hitching as Chan nosed at your clothed clit.

“Good girl…keep reading baby, you’re doing so good for me…” He says softly, hooking his fingers into your panties and sliding them down your legs.

“She trembled in his t-touch…h-having like…feeling…fuck…” You breathe out, struggling as Chan kisses your inner thighs, you spread your legs more, back arching.

“Come on, it’s just words, it seems so much easier to read than to pay attention to me, right?” He teases. “If you stop, I stop.” He says with no emotion whatsoever.

You whined, feeling tortured. “Sh-she gasped as his- Ah!” You moaned as his tongue lapped at your clit, finally feeling his warm tongue on you without a barrier.

“Keep going.” He urged.

“Fuck- he- sai- fuck….Their…breaths shook with- every-time she…the..” You made no sense at all, just saying random words as Chan lapped at your pussy. “The…room…spun…her…” you kept pushing as your climax built, your words just flowing out as he thrust his tongue inside of you, groaning, the vibrations adding to the pleasure. One hand held the book while the other held his head, fingers gripping his hair, slightly pushing him further into your heat as you panted out useless words. Your legs hooked over his shoulders as he ate you alive from under the desk, and you swear you started seeing god.

His face was buried between your plush thighs as he devoured you, his hands gripping your thighs like he was anchoring himself to you. Your eyes rolled back as your back arched, the coil tensed, body starting to shake-

You dropped the book.

It clattered against the floor, and Chan stilled, smirking into your pussy. “What was that baby?” He asked, lifting his head.

“I’m sorry!” You panicked, you were so close, and you were ripped from pleasure. You leaned down, grabbing the book, fumbling with the pages, trying to find the page you were on, eyes rapidly darting across them, breathing rapid and choppy.

A hand settled onto the book stopping you in your tracks. “Baby…” He looked soft, apologetic, merciful. “It’s okay baby, relax, you did so good.” He says, taking the book from your hands, closing it gently and placing it on the desk. “Now just relax…” He says softly, dipping his head back, slowly lapping at your core once more.

You gasped, whining. “I wanna burn that fucking book…” You breathe out, falling back into pleasure. He caressed your thighs as he focused on your pussy, lapping and sucking, looking up at you now that there wasn’t a book in the way. Your eyes were begging him, so he doubled his efforts.

It didn’t take long before you were built back up, his tongue thrusting in and out of your entrance, lapping and sucking at your clit, and you started to shake. He made you want to scream, you pressed his face further into your pussy, and he gladly obeyed, moving his head around to further stimulate your clit, making you gasp.

”Pleasepleasepleaseplease” You begged, needing this release more than you needed to breathe.

“Mhm…” He hummed into your pussy, his way of telling you it was okay, he wasn’t playing any games. You came. You gasped and squirmed in your seat, hips jerking as you came hard. You moaned his name, over and over as your thighs squeezed his head, shaking around his skull. He eventually lifted his head, kissing your thighs, making his way up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Don’t worry baby…none of your books have to be burned…” He chuckled into your mouth. “But this office chair might have to…” He winced, looking down between your legs. Your pussy was leaking. The chair had a wet patch, it glistened and you just knew it would be hard to clean the sticky mess.

You hit Chan in the shoulder lightly. “I just bought this chair.” You scolded.

“It was worth it,” He smirked, you did not find it funny in the slightest. “Chillax baby, I’ll clean it, I promise.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, making a smile crack on your face.

“Well since you’re gonna clean it anyways…you wanna do that again?” You ask playfully, and it was like watching a dog hear the word “walk”, and suddenly you were happy to ruin your new chair, as well as never touch a book again.

~~~~~

Oh lord my mind has way too many one shot ideas I feel so dirty 🫣

As you can tell I’m Chan biased but I can 100% do any other member, just request and I’m down.

You both had felt it.

The simmering tension, weeks of exhaustion without break. Something in you was burning up, and not in a good way. Chan had dealt with your attitude before, you were short fused, but this time it was different. You were angry, livid, and you felt rage boiling inside of you from something you couldn’t put your finger on. Every time he talked to you, you had an attitude even when you didn’t mean to. Sarcasm, scowls, venom in every word, and yet you didn’t even know why.

Chan was getting impatient.

He could brush it off easily, with his usual calm voice.

“I understand baby, I’ll give you some space.”

It somehow pissed you off even more at how understanding he was. But everyone has limits. He started asking questions.

“What’s up with you today?” He would ask, trying not to sound too hostile. You would get even angrier and tell him to go away, which he did. But one thing about Chan is that he had a limit to everything, and you were pushing it.

His voice started to make your skin crawl, make your face turn red and hot not from anything arousing, but from anger. You would quip back at everything, until it eventually ended in an argument.

Chan was done with your act, and the crack in his patience was one feather away from breaking completely.

Chan had come home from practice, hot and tired. Before he left you told him you would cook dinner so he could eat when he got back.

“Baby?” He called. You were lying on the couch, watching TV, which he interrupted.

“What?” You bit, pissed that you couldn’t just watch your show.

“Where’s dinner?” He asked.

“Excuse me?” You asked, feeling offended.

“Not like that, you said you were gonna cook so I didn’t pick anything up.” He said, just wanting to eat something.

You realized you thoughtlessly forgot, feeling guilty, but you were mad, so you would never say you’re sorry. “Oops, I forgot.” You looked back at the TV.

“Oops? That’s it?” He said, patience wearing thin.

“My god Chan it’s just dinner.” You were getting frustrated, you just wanted to watch your show.

Chan laughed, but it held no humor. “Just dinner?! Y/n I haven’t eaten in 4 hours!” His voice raised a few decibels.

“Chris, can you get off my back?!” You yelled.

“No! You need to own up, you told me one thing and then you just sit on your ass and not do it?! Just admit you were wrong for once!” He yelled, his patience had snapped, and his hunger wasn’t helping.

“Oh god forbid I forget one thing, now I’m the bad guy?!” You flail your arms dramatically.

Chan made his way over to the couch standing across the coffee table, blocking the TV. “It’s not that you forgot, it that you’ve been just sitting here all day, not doing anything productive, and that’s why you can’t even think about your boyfriend!”

“Oh my gosh, you’re acting childish! You have arms, you can make something to eat yourself! Or better yet if you’re feeling that lazy just order on DoorDash! Now get out of the way.” You were sick of him.

“Oh I’m childish and lazy? You’ve been watching TV all day, seriously do you do anything productive?!” He quips.

“Fuck you, don’t call me counterproductive when you can’t even make yourself a meal.”

“Watch your mouth.” Chan’s demeanor changes, just slightly, but it can’t mean anything good.

“Fuck. You.” You poke the beast.

“You wanna play games?” He asks calmly. Too calmly. A shiver runs down your spine, but you keep your composure.

“Get up.” He commands.

“No.” You stare into his eyes, one thing you could match Chan in is boldness, and boy were you testing your luck.

“I don’t remember asking you a question.” His voice is low, he stopped yelling, and somehow it was worse.

“And I don’t remember having to do whatever you say.” You cross your arms, anchoring yourself to the couch.

“Oh you will one way or another, but you’re making this harder than it has to be,” He bends at the hips slightly, getting closer to your level while still being separated by the coffee table. “So I’m gonna tell you one more time, choose whether you wanna be difficult or not, doesn’t matter to me.” His voice got lower and lower.

“Get. Up.” He growled.

“Go. Fuck. Your-self.” You smirked, not knowing how bad of a decision you were making.

You didn’t even get to process anything. In an instant he rounded the table, pouncing on you, hands on each side of the couch cushion you were leaning back against.

“You fucked up princess, real bad.” His face was only centimeters away from yours, which held a nasty scowl.

“I’m not afraid of you.” You said, though the slight shake in your voice suggested otherwise.

“Oh yeah? Well good thing I don’t need you to be.” His hand wrapped around your throat, just slightly squeezing, making your eyes widen. “You’ve tested my patience. Over. And over. And over.” He punctuated each word by slightly squeezing harder, and breathing became harder.

Your hands shot up to grab his arm, blood pumping rapidly, and you felt the rush of fight or flight, yet you let neither take over.

“Whats wrong baby?” He coo’d.

You let out a whimper, and with that he grabbed both your wrists from his, and yanked your whole body over his lap. You gasped as air finally easily entered your lungs. Chan bent your arms behind you, pinning them behind your back, and you couldn’t move. With his other hand, Chan was caressing the skin on the back of your thighs, fingers brushing over the hem of the small tight shorts you were wearing.

“You’re dressed like a slut.” He says, leaning down to punctuate, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Fuck you.” You say, blood still hot as ever, but it’s all you have to say.

A loud smack fills the air, echoing off the walls of the living room, you stop breathing for a second as you feel the sharp sting on your ass.

“Language.” He says sternly.

You have nothing to say, you’re speechless.

“What’s wrong my love? Can’t speak? But you had so much to say earlier.” He says, playing with the curve of your ass, jiggling it in his hand.

Another smack. You gasp, fists balling up at the sting.

“Come on. Say something, go ahead and get it all out.” He says.

Your brain is full of static, and suddenly words don’t exist anymore.

Another smack. “I said fucking say something.” He growls.

All you can do it grunt, pinned down and helpless.

Three more slaps.

And you moan.

“Oh? What was that?” You can hear the smirk in his words.

“You like this don’t you? My dirty little whore likes being punished.”

He smacks your ass again. Harder.

You whimper, gasping, the sting hurts so good.

“Answer me, or are you that dumb already?”

He smacks your ass again.

“There’s plenty of men who could smack my ass harder than that.” You say, knowing exactly what makes Chans blood boil, but that, that made it molten.

Chan’s fingers run through your hair before yanking your head back, turning it to face him.

“You’re gonna regret that.” His face is dark, like he’s ready to murder a man just because.

He shoves your legs off the couch so that you’re kneeling, gripping your chin tightly. He tilts your head up to look at him, he leans forward, legs spreading in front of you, and you can help but look between them. Looking was a big mistake, cause as soon as you look back up, he’s smirking.

“Caught you. So dirty.” He says.

He leans forward more, chest pressing to yours, and face coming closer to yours, lips brushing.

“I’ve been patient. I’ve been understanding. And you. You’ve been a fucking brat. And now you’re gonna find out exactly what brats like you deserve.” He says before sweeping everything off the coffee table, a glass cup shattering, but you could care less as he pushed you down onto it. Chan kneels between your legs, you sit up, and he grabs your throat.

“You sure know how to piss me off. So enjoy it, cause after this, you’ll learn your lesson, whether I have to drill it into your thick skull…” he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Or pound it into your tight little cunt until you cry.” He leans back, and his large body stops you from clenching your thighs together. Chan pushes you back down onto the table, hands running up under your shirt, pushing it up as he trails kisses up your stomach. He brings his body closer, his head finally meeting yours, his necklace dangling down, swinging right above your neck. His eyes are dangerous.

“You wanna act all tough? We’ll see about that.” He smashes his lips against yours, and it’s not like he usually kisses you when he’s worked up. This kiss is all teeth and tongue and anger, it’s hot and filthy. His hand stays on your throat, the other trailing up your thigh. You let out soft sighs, trying not to give in.

He kisses down your jaw, getting to your neck and sucking, leaving dark unforgiving marks. You gasp, gripping his biceps.

Then he bites you. Hard.

You let out a yelp that sounds more like a moan, back arching off the table.

“What was that?” He smirks, continuing the assault on your neck as his hands trail lower. Your whole body is hot, you squirm in his grasp, feeling too much but not enough.

His hands finally reach where you need them, trailing over your shorts, you gasp.

“Hm? Do you want me there?” He asks.

You refuse to give in, whining.

“Don’t whine sweetheart, makes you sound pathetic.” He says, squeezing on your throat for a second. His hand resting over your shorts rubs up and down, making you hold your breath to avoid moaning.

“I know you want to baby. Let it out. Just admit it, you know what to do.” He says, but are not giving up that quickly.

He kisses up your stomach again, pushing your shirt up more, revealing your breasts sitting perfectly, waiting for him.

“What’s this?” He says, fingers grazing your nipples, making you gasp.

“Your nipples are hard, your body is betraying you.” He laughs.

“it’s cold…” You say, attempting to deny it, trying to keep the fight in you alive, when he’s making it so hard.

“That’s even more pathetic…” He laughs before losing his head, taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking, circling it with his tongue, making you moan out loud. You run your hands through his hair, tugging, and he bites. You grunt, pulling his hair in anger, but he doesn’t move. He eventually moves to the other one, being just as brutal, making you groan and whine.

“F-fuck” You breathe out.

He smacks your other tit, the wet skin stinging.

“what did I say about language?” He growls into your skin.

He trails his mouth down your sternum, teeth scraping your skin, unforgiving, and he sits up.

“You wanna apologize?” He says, and you gain a little mental clarity, enough to get your fire back.

“For what?” Your attitude is back, along with the scowl on your face.

“Wrong answer.” With that, he yanks your shorts down your legs. His hands grip your thighs before spreading them apart despite your attempted protest, and he’s looking at you, and you know exactly where.

“Is that all for me?” He smirks.

He rubs his fingers over the damp spot in your black lace panties.

“Does making me angry make you wet? Knew you were a fucking slut.” He says with venom.

And then he fucking kisses the wet patch, licking his lips as you shiver. He trails his kisses higher, running his tongue along the waistband of your underwear.

“Last chance princess…” He says caressing your thighs.

“Apologize. And I’ll be nice.” He says, you knew he was serious.

“No.” But you didn’t care.

He bites down, teeth digging into your skin and the underwear waistband.

“Ow!” You yell, anger laced.

He drags your panties down with his teeth.

“Did that hurt?” He asked with fake concern.

“What do you think?” You scowl.

“Guess what baby?” He asks.

“What.” You say, unamused.

Then he pinches your clit.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He growls as you yelp, hips jerking.

“I asked you. Twice.” He says, voice low and dangerous. His middle and index finger pressed against your entrance, trailing up, bringing your wetness to your clit, drawing out gasps and whines.

“But you wanted to be a stupid fucking brat.” He pressed his thumb to your clit, circling unforgiving circles into the bundle of nerves.

“So I’m not gonna be nice. I’m not gonna be nice at all. You had your chance, didn’t you?” He says, thumb moving with precision.

You gasp, breathing uneven as your hips move with every circle of his thumb.

“Mmmh…you like that? You like when I play with your clit?” He asks, purring. He presses harder, circling faster, building you up. The coils feel in your abdomen are tensing, ready to snap-

And he stops.

You gasp, eyes shooting open.

“Chan—“

“I don’t wanna hear it.” He says unforgiving. Your eyes widen, chest heaving slightly. His thumb starts up again.

“So you better take it. Take it like a good girl and shut your mouth.” He sounds like a different person, like a beast you let out of a cage after pushing him so far. It was scary, but damn it, it felt so good.

“This is what you get. This is what you deserve baby. I’m gonna build you up, rub this fucking clit until you’re right there, just to stop. And you won’t get anything.” He explains, sounding sadistic.

The coil tightens again, and you try to hide it, but it’s not use, and he stops again.

You cry out.

“Awww, poor baby, do you wanna come?” He coo’s.

“Open your mouth.” He says, and you obey. He presses his thumb down onto your tongue. “Oh what a good fucking girl~” He purrs.

He hovers right above you, and then spits. Right into your mouth. At first you’re shocked, but it was so dirty, you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

“Swallow it, be good.” He says, smearing some of your saliva on your cheek.

And you do. You swallow it, keeping dangerous eye contact.

“See? Is it so hard to listen to me?” He tilts his head, then goes back to torturing you, his thumb pressing back onto your clit, making you whine and arch your back.

“What is it? Can’t take it? Should have thought of that when I asked you.” He says, his circles slowing.

“Chan..” You say breathlessly.

“Nuh uh, that’s not my name.” He sucks in air through his teeth at the sight of your wet clit.

“Chris.” You moan.

“That’s not right either.” He tuts. Your eyes widen.

“D…daddy…” You say, humiliated.

“There she is.” Chan praises, his thumb returning to a normal pace.

“Is my baby embarrassed? Get used to it. After tonight it’s gonna be the only thing you wanna call me.” He smirks, speeding up.

Again you’re so close. Again he stops. You let out an animalistic cry, ready to break, to surrender to him.

Then he fucking blows on your clit, and you wail. It’s nothing but a little air, but the coldness and the slight feel of it makes you wanna scream. You’re feeling desperate, tears pricking at your eyes.

“Aww, you weren’t crying earlier when you called me lazy and childish, were you?” He says.

His fingers circle your entrance, you feel like crying.

He plunges both fingers into you, mercilessly. You scream, head slamming against the table, your cunt clenching around his fingers.

“You’re so desperate…” He whispers before tugging on that spongey spot inside you.

You cry out, gasping, he begins to pull his fingers out before pushing them back in, pressing into that spot that makes you go crazy.

This builds you up faster than the clit rubbing, and you can feel it.

“Let go baby, I’ll let you come…” Chan says in a sweet voice, and you almost thank him as you start seeing white, that is until he rips his fingers from you, ruining your orgasm, and you scream.

“You’re so…fucking…mean…” You say between breaths, whiny.

“I’m not sorry.” He says.

He grips your chin.

“look at me.” You open your eyes to look at him, and he looks deranged.

“Maybe if you beg, I’ll give you mercy.” He says.

Your pride was calling from the distance, but your cunt was screaming louder, and you threw away any ounce of fight you had left, you were too desperate.

“Ch- Daddy…I’m sorry…I swear, I’ll be good…please…let me come…I’ll do anything, anything at all! I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” You say, panting, whining, a tear slipping.

“Poor baby…” Chan says, wiping your tear, and it seems like he may give you mercy.

He licks a stripe up your slit, and you gasp, whining. He enters a finger, twisting it inside of you while he sucks on your clit. Your hips are twitching and squirming, so he holds you down by your hip.

“Please~ oh god please baby~” You beg, moans straight out of a porn video, your orgasm building up.

But it wasn’t enough.

You scream again as you feel him leave your pussy.

“Why…” You cry, tears falling, feeling like you’re gonna explode.

“That’s exactly my question. Tell me. Why have you had an attitude for a whole month, am I not good enough for you? Are you getting sick of me?” He asks.

You pause, not expecting that. He’s broken all your walls down, and in a moment of desperation, you spill.

“I don’t know…” You say, and it was your honest answer.

“Bullshit.” He grunts.

“I’m serious…I don’t know. I just feel so angry all the time and I don’t want to…I’m sorry…I was being a brat…” You say, starting to realize what it was, and Chan says nothing. He knows. He knows why you’re angry, but he wants you to say it.

So he waits.

“I’m just…sexually frustrated…I got mad…and we argued…as we haven’t fucked in like a month.” You finally admit.

“Was that so hard?” He asks.

You shake your head, feeling embarrassed. You barely knew it yourself.

“Good job baby.” He caresses your face, cupping the back of your head, bringing you to sit up.

“So here’s the deal. You’re gonna suck my cock like a good little slut, and then you can come as much as you want. Deal?” He asks, sitting back up on the couch, legs spreading.

You nod, hands gripping his knees. When he gives you the go, your hands fly to his drawstring, untying it, tugging his sweats and boxers down in one go, seeing the angry red tip, leaking precum.

You stroke it slowly, gathering precum and coving his cock in it, his hips moving slightly as he groans.

“Your mouth, baby, don’t keep me waiting.” He commands, so you take his cock into your mouth.

Your tongue swirls around the head, and you bob your head, taking him deep into your mouth.

“Oh yeah…fuck you’re such a good girl…” He groans, hands moving the hair out of your face, holding onto it. You flick your tongue over his slit, and he bucks into it, moaning. You stroke what you can’t fit in your mouth, and keep your tongue flat against his shaft.

“Fuck…god…” He grunts, pulling your hair, pushing into you further, making you take his cock, making you gag and choke.

“Awee baby…you can’t take daddy’s cock? What a shame…” Despite his masochistic words, Chan lifts you off his cock so you can catch your breath for a few seconds, before you return, wrapping your lips around him again.

Chan starts getting more noisy, you can tell he’s close, so you start licking the underside of his tip, nails digging into his thighs as you force yourself to take him deeper, fighting off your gag reflex.

Chan starts bucking his hips, gripping your hair as he starts to shake, before pushing your head all the way down, and you take him to the back of your throat, where he shoots into, making you choke again.

He takes your head away as you cough and gasp for air, he caresses your face, moving your hair out of the way.

“Oh my baby, you did so good, are you okay?” He asks, regular Chan peeking through.

“Yes…” you say.

“Good, now go to the bedroom.” He says calmly.

You get up, he smacks your ass as you round the couch and hurry your way to the bedroom, onto the bed. You watch Chan enter the room a few seconds later. He stands at the edge of the bed, pushing his pants and boxers down, then tugging his shirt off, throwing it on the floor, crawling on top of you.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks.

“Yes…please…” you nod rapidly.

”Good, cause that’s what I’m gonna do.” He says, kissing you, hungrily.

“But first…” He crawls back until he’s facing your pussy.

“I didn’t eat dinner yet…” He smirks, then immediately buries his face into your cunt, lapping at it like it’s the best meal in the world. You grip his hair, gasping and moaning. He flicks his tongue on your clit with precision, knowing he’s driving you crazy.

It doesn’t take long before your legs are squeezing the sides of his head, your back arching as you cum violently. He raises his head, crawling back up, and kissing you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Delicious.” He says against your lips.

“You want my cock now baby?” He asks teasingly.

“Please…” You breath out, defeated.

“I need it…I think I’ll die without it…” You pant.

“Are you sorry?” He teases.

“Yes, I’m so sorry…” You say, surrendering fully, pride and anger pinned down somewhere in your mind, silenced by your need for him.

“I know you are baby…” He smiles, kissing your head before flipping you over. You yelp, and he yanks your hips towards him, lining himself up, pushing in slowly. You both let out deep moans, finally feeling each other.

“Fuck…you feel so perfect…” He says, one hand gripping your ass, the other gripping your waist.

“Just start moving baby…please…” you beg.

He complies, he pulls out to the tip before pushing back in, slowly, but as you let out a whine, he speeds up, setting a slutty pace, rolling his hips with every thrust.

“Fuck~” you moan out erotically, finally being fucked, thinking about making him angry more often.

“God…you’re sucking me in…fuck…you like that?” He asks, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your back arch in a way that feels like sin.

“Oh god- yes…don’t stop~” You close your eyes, the pleasure becoming heavenly.

You subconsciously start lowering your hips, and he smacks your ass, yanking your hips up, thrusting faster.

“You’ve been so fucking bad… I should punish you more…you’re lucky I love you…” he grunts.

You moan into the pillows, gripping the sheets as he fucks you harder.

“Fuck…you want me to come inside? Fuck my babies into you?” He grunts, getting close.

“You’d like that huh…” he says, strangled, his abdomen tightening.

“Yes…fuck…I need it.” You say between strangled moans, tears falling as he fucks you harder, both of you tipping over.

Both of your orgasms crash over you like a tsunami, and you scream into the pillow, his thrusts unrelenting as you feel his hot seed filling you, and then he fucks it deeper inside.

After riding out your highs, he collapses, forearms on each side of you, making sure he doesn’t crush you, pressing kisses to your shoulders and back.

“You okay baby?” He asks, still catching his breath.

“Mhm…” You say, coming out of your dazed state. He turns you over, swiping your hair out of your face.

“You look so beautiful…” He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your forehead. You open your eyes, and he kisses you, deep, in a way that feels apologetic for being so sadistic. Your hands get bold, running up his chest, feeling him up, and that’s when you feel it.

His cock gets hard again, right against your thigh. You both chuckle.

“Round two?” He asks with a smile you can’t say no to.

~~~~~~~ The time is 1:47am, sweat and cum drench the sheets and the both of you. You lost track of what round you finished, but it didn’t matter. You had blacked out, and came back to Chan laying on your chest, waiting for you.

“Earth to y/n?” There he was. Your silly, cute, dorky boyfriend.

“I’m here” You giggled.

“Baby, I’m hungry.” He says.

“Baby…” You whine. “I don’t think I can come again and survive it…”

“Baby not like that,” he chuckles. “Like actually hungry, I need food or I’ll starve to death.”

“Oh- shit, let me go make dinner” You get up, and pain shoots straight up your spine and down your legs.

“Fuck!” You yell, immediately laying back down.

“Shit- I’m sorry darling, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Chan looked so sorry.

“It’s okay, it was worth it not gonna lie…” you smirk. “But I’m sorry, i actually cannot cook right now.”

“I know, I ordered DoorDash.” He smirks.

“What?” You smack him. “You could have told me that before I tried to de-paralyze myself!” You scold, not able to hide your smile.

“Okay okay, we’re even now.” He smiles, that radiant, gorgeous smile, and you feel happy.

You are so in love with him, feeling a huge wave of guilt.

“Baby…” Your mood instantly changes. “I’m really sorry…I shouldn’t have taken all my frustration out on you, I guess I relied on you to fix my problems when you didn’t even know what they were…” You look at the ceiling.

“Baby look at me.” He turns your face. “We all make mistakes, and we’re passed that, you know I won’t hold it to you. Now we both know, and it won’t happen again, I think that’s fair enough, as long as it’s resolved, that’s enough to me.” he smiles, and truly believe you must be the luckiest girl in the world.

“Yeah…and the fact that you took my legs for the next two days…or weeks…” You smile.

You both laugh, and things are back to normal, they couldn’t be any better.

~~~~~

Hey guys hope you like this one 🙂‍↕️