#butterflyweb

*(crossover pairings: GD/Heechul, TOP/Changmin) 

Preview:  

Draped over his knees, Changmin strokes a hand over his beer bottle like he would over a cock. Fucking indecent little shit. They're cramped in a small couch, in a tiny corner of the VIP room, but he doesn't mind. There's worse people to spend his time with and if the sleazy smiles being shot his way are anything to go by, he's not alone in thinking that. "Whatcha thinking?" he shoots to the redhead in front, watching as he crosses and uncrosses legs constricted in black leather. Lips quirk into a smirk. "Something dirty," Heechul fires back, stroking a hand over the back of another man's neck. Seunghyun doesn't know his name but he's seen him around a few times. He looks young to be in a club like this and Seunghyun thinks with a smirk that it's probably his appeal to the man beside him. Changmin squirms a little, on purpose, the bastard, and Seunghyun scratches his nails over his thigh in retailiation. "Something dirty, huh? Not that it's a surprise, but would you care to share with the class?" Heechul flashes him a dirty look, eyes parting with the sight of his hand on Changmin's leg almost reluctantly. Voyeur, thinks Seunghyun. He grabs Changmin's crotch just to put on a show and smirks to hear the other man's intake of breath. "What do you say..." Heechul moans. "We get out of here. Head across the street. My place. It'd be a lot less crowded." Seunghyun arches a dark brow, noticing the flush that's rising under Changmin's skin, the way his lips stay slightly parted. Already thinking about it. Wanting it. He nods to the kid beside Heechul, eyes made up and lips smirking. "The four of us?" Heechul's eyes turn to him and Changmin's gaze follows, thirsty even as he takes a deep swig of his beer, like trying to empty his bottle before he no longer has a chance. "If he wants," the redhead chuckles. "What do you say, Jiyong? Do you want?" The kid's eyes light up, firey like his namesake and the small smile on his features turns smug. "Damn straight." Snorting, Seunghyun glances askance at Changmin. Maybe he could convince his lover to give the eyemakeup a try. Maybe after tonight, if it all works out, he'll have the guts to say more to him than 'was it okay' just before he rolls over and falls asleep. Far be it from him to suggest their relationship lacks something, but-- "Let's go," he grunts, pushing Changmin gently off his lap and holding out a hand to help Heechul out of his seat. It's what you do with women, after all. Heechul's eyes narrow as if he's reading his thoughts---probably can, fucking alien that he is. But he chose a very tasty form to inhabit, it can't be denied, and he brings seconds. He can't help but picture the short little thing behind the other man sitting on Changmin's cock. It would be enough to make him come from the fucking sight alone. They make their way through the crowded club speedily. There's no air in the enclosed space and there's too many people gasping their way through alcohol and music and sex to stay sober. The best recourse - the only recourse - is retreat. Into the dragon's lair, as it happens. Heechul dangles keys from a fingertip by the time they're outside, his hand curving around a thin wrist as he pulls Jiyong along behind him. Seunghyun grabs his ass in the elevator as a form of thanks for being the harbinger of good ideas, for once. He gets a shit-eating grin in return. "Hands to yourself, Choi. You're going to have to wait your turn like a good boy." It does nothing to dissuade him, but he relents, watching Heechul's eyes as he pretends not to notice the way Changmin is rubbing at his crotch with a lazy hand. When tipsy, his lover never knows the limits of his own desire. "Min-ah, you heard the man," he teases. "Hands to yourself." His lover smiles at him, lazy and sexy as hell, his eyes half-lidded. "Just following orders." Licks his lips as his eyes fall closed. Fucking whore. Seunghyun wants to fuck him right here. But no, not tonight. Tonight they're trying different flavors. He knows Min's taste on his tongue. He's curious about the new guy. The one Heechul pulls along like a ragdoll, even as he seems perfectly aware, perfectly sentient and in control of himself. Out of all of them, he's probably the only one remotely sober. Seunghyun finds himself hoping they won't end up without wallets by the end of the night and spills into Heechul's apartment in disarray. Shoes are toed off by the door, his jacket hung loosely over the back of a chair and he makes no excuses about any of it. The couch gives a squeak under his weight, but at least he's comfortable. And he's got a good vantage point from which to observe the rest of them. Heechul stretches out, legs crossed and a smirk on his handsome features. Not, not handsome. Pretty, Seunghyun decides, and notes with amusement that Heechul's smirk takes an edge. He pushes Jiyong back a little when the man makes the move to sit beside him. Takes a firm hold on skinny hips. "Tsk. Go meet new people, Yong-ah." It throws the other man off, gaze flickering from Heechul to Changmin who is still on his feet, still swaying through the room as if to his own drumbeat. Seunghyun takes pity on him, snapping his fingers to get his attention. "C'mere. I don't bite." From across the room, he can swear he hears his lover snort. "Liar." He blows him a kiss, slumping back into the plush couch with legs splayed. The kid comes his way, slowly for all his makeup and ripped jeans. Seunghyun watches Heechul beckon Changmin and smirks. Thinks that Heechul doesn't know what he's in for with that one. Almost shamefully feels relieved. Jiyong is thin, thinner than expected and when he tugs his hoodie off to reveal bare skin, prominent ribs are the first to draw Seunghyun's eye. Then the tattoos. "Is eating out of fashion again?" he mutters, adjusting himself with a hand on his thigh because it's fucked up - really fucked up - if he finds this sexy. Jiyong makes a face and for a moment, he thinks the kid is going to stick his tongue out at him. "Fuck you," he replies instead, pleasant, a smile on full lips that stretch thin over white teeth. "Jealous?" "Of the emaciated look?" Seunghyun chuckles. "No. Get over here." Stop talking. Stop being cute and fucking likable. And Jiyong does, hesitating just a flicker of a second before straddling his lap. His face his bright, eyes shining inside eyeliner circles. Seunghyun grabs his ass, hard and sudden, just to watch his eyes go wide. Wonders how Heechul found this one. Heechul, who currently has his tongue in Changmin's mouth. He catches the sound of pleasure in his lover's throat and turns his attention back to the kid in his arms. First things first. A hand traces his shoulder, as though afraid to grab hold. Funny, he doesn't look like the nervous kind. Seunghim gives him a smirk, tilting his head back to meet the kids eyes. "Waiting for an engraved invitation?" "Waiting for you to make your move," the kid retorts, head tilted to the side almost curiously. "Isn't that what a good top does?" Seunghyun's eyebrows climb towards his hairline. Interesting. Changmin has always been a switch with a penchant for being on his back, but it's a while since he's had a loyal bottom. Seunghyun takes a hold of his hips, slight under a firm touch and pulls him forward to bring their groins into flush contact. It earns him a gasp from parted lips, Jiyong canting his head forward until their noses all but touch. It's sweet in a way that a drunken orgy has no place to be sweet and Seunghyun tries to remind him of that when he sinks a kiss to his bare chest, lapping with his tongue over exposed nipples. Jiyong mewls softly, and the noise startles a crooked grin out of him, using teeth this time and it has the kid gasping. Changmin chuckles from the other sofa, the noise trailing off into a moan. "Told you." Heechul takes him by the hair and pushes his head a little lower. "Use that pretty mouth on something other than talking." It's the kind of advice Seunghyun can agree with and he takes it to heart, applying himself to teasing the new kid until he's weak in the knees. Until he'll stop doing that thing where he makes his stomach feel hollow and his cheeks hot. "Do it harder," he hears, the words whispered like an order, not a request. Bottom he may be, but pliant he is not.

Read the full story here: 좋아해요

*Warning: Suicide Preview:  

It feels heavy in his palm.

His fingers are trembling, thumb pressing against the barrel, the cold metal biting into his skin. The corner of the bed sinks under his weight, old springs creaking on a mattress stained with come and fitted with unclean sheets. They’re not bound to improve in the next few minutes.

It brings a smile to his lips that’s more like a grimace, fitting his hand around the grip, finger sliding to rest against the trigger. Another hand comes up to wipe at his face, scrubbing over cheeks marred with salt. Jesus. Jesus, fuck.

He shudders, gripping the gun and pushed himself back to sit against the headboard, the cheap wood digging into the small of his back. Legs splayed out in front of him, he looks into the mirror opposite the bed. He doesn’t even look like himself, face drawn and lips thin. Hair greasy with three days unwash, and eyes bloodshot.

He lifts the gun, pointing it as his reflection.

“Bang,” he whispers, and flinches.

Closing his eyes tight, he hesitates, choking down the lump that seems to be blocking his air, wonders if he’ll just strangle instead. Lifts the gun, sets it against his lips, hollows his cheeks around the barrel. It tastes like ash and death and hard metal and he takes it out, swearing under his breath as his eyes prick.

Fuck. Fuck, for once in your life, have some fucking balls, he hisses in his head, lifting the gun with a shaking hand.

Presses the muzzle to his scalp, cold against his skin.

Bang, he thinks, and pulls.

*

He wakes in a bed, a different bed, with starched sheets that scratch his cheek and a throbbing headache.

Swallowing in a dry throat, he sits up, almost hesitant in the empty space. He’s still wearing his clothes, not a hospital gown, and there’s no IV. No nurse.

He hesitates, lifting his hand with something akin to fear. Brushes his hand against his temple, feeling no bandage, no gauze, no tape. What the hell? Did he miss and pass out? Was it…did he just fucking dream it? He pushes his fingers back further, dread curling in his stomach and when his fingertips find a hole he leans over and vomits onto the sterile white floor.

Wheezing, he digs his fingers into the itchy cotton, bent over and forehead pressed to the edge of the cot, still heaving dry coughs.

“That looked rough,” a bright voice comments lightly, and he jerks, equilibrium giving him another turn into nausea.

“What—what’s going on, why—“ His voice comes out shaken and raw, and the young man’s smile turns a little gentler, a little less bright and a little more understanding.

He hands him a glass of water that he seems to pull out of nowhere. “Here. Drink this.” Sits down on the edge of the bed, almost perched. “My name is Junsu. I’m here to welcome you.”

“Seunghyun,” he gets out, hesitating before sipping at the water. It tastes metallic.

Junsu smiles and it edges towards blinding, as if it pains him to keep it dimmed. “I know. Choi Seunghyun. Seoul, South Korea. We expected you.”

Seunghyun feels a chill go down his spine. “We? Is this…” He bites his lip on the question. Knows better.

A shake of the head, the corners of Junsu’s mouth still upturned. “No, it isn’t Heaven. But it’s not Hell either.” A hesitation.

“Drink up. And sorry about the taste. You’ll get used to it.”

*

It’s not Heaven. It’s not Hell. It’s not Purgatory. For all intents and purposes, it’s home.

Fate has always had a cruel sense of irony.

Junsu had given him a wad of bills, “to get on your feet” and a light push out the door. Welcome to your death, Seunghyun thinks, shaky hands lighting cigarettes, and chain-smokes on the sidewalk as he tries to get his bearings. Watches people walk by with cricks in their neck too violent to be natural, women like skeletons and a man missing half his face. Sucks down nicotine and keeps walking and tries to keep the contents of his stomach from making a second appearance.

A bar, Seunghyun notes blearily, flicking ash to the bed. He needs alcohol and lots of it. It never erased his problems back there, but he needs an option to cling to before he goes crazy.

He can’t get a seat on the bus, crushed against the door and the sweaty body of an enormous man. Steps outside to the rain and remembers Junsu’s rueful smile. “It’s like Life. Only…nothing ever quite goes right.”

Pushing wet hair out of his eyes, he keeps them trained on the floor as he slips inside the first bar he sees, sliding into the corner of a booth and pressing his face into his hands. Keeps his fingers curled in, afraid to touch the side of his skull. Can’t quite think straight.

A beer is set in front of him on a paper coaster, sleeves stretching back to reveal cut wrists. Seunghyun’s stomach rolls.

“Let me know if you need something different,” the tall boy tells him, a fucking model if Seunghyun’s ever seen one and he wonders what tragedy the kid felt was worth it. Keeps silent and nods instead of asking.

He people watches and drowns his sorrows and thinks it fucking figures when the beer is flat.

Letting out a shuddering breath, he lifts his head to find eyes watching him back.

It isn’t the steady gaze that unsettles him, nor the loud clothes or the way he holds his cigarette almost like a chick. But rather it’s the way he isn’t disfigured, the way his skin is clear and his lips pink and his wrists bare of telling scars.

“You’re new,” the man notes, places his cigarette between his lips and slides off the stool. Flops down into Seunghyun’s booth.

“They told you why you’re here, right?”

Seunghyun sits back, taken aback by the sudden proximity and the probing question. “Yeah. Cause I…killed myself.”

The younger man makes a face that only serves to underscore the childishness of his features, flicking ash onto the table top.

“One of the angels tell you that? Bullshit, man. They sugarcoat everything, it’s how they’re made.” He lifts his chin. “You’re here cause you fucked up. Cause you weren’t a good person. Good people go to heaven. Bad people go to hell. Cowards come here.”

It makes Seunghyun start, makes the people around them go silent and he can feel eyes bore into what’s left of the back of his head.

The man-child bares uneven teeth. “Did you hear what I said? You’re a coward.”

Seunghyun swallows thickly around surprise and something like shame and stares. “Then…so are you,” is all he can think to say. The effect is instantaneous, the man slumping down in his seat and letting out a sharp bark of a laugh. And then again, knees coming up and shoulders down as if he’d been punched in the gut.

“Yeah,” he guffaws, “I am.” Another harsh laugh. “You fucking prick. No wonder you blew your head off.”

He drops his cigarette into Seunghyun’s beer and slides out of the seat, storming out of the bar in a mess of loud, bright color and haphazard patterns.

A blonde man laughs awkwardly from two booths down, kohl around his eyes and piercings riddled in his ears. He chews on the edge of a cigarette and offers a shrug.

“That’s Jiyong. And I…wouldn’t put too much stock in anything he says.”

Read it here: 좋아해요