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It’s a miracle Namgyu hasn’t killed himself yet.
Here he is, sprawled on his old couch that reeks of piss and other things he can’t even name. Last night’s syringe somewhere on the floor, forgotten.
He should probably be more careful with that shit, should probably make sure it’s on the table before shooting it into his veins, before blacking out for two days straight.
But the truth is, he doesn’t give a fuck.
His apartment is absolutely trashed and he got fired from his job. Apparently, disappearing for a week because you’re participating in some weird child death games is an absolute no-go.
Who knew?
Yeah, whatever. Fuck that place. Namgyu doesn’t need that stupid job anyway. He has enough money for the next few months, for the next year even! If he’s careful, that is. Not that he really plans to be.
But would it really be so bad?
To die?
He doesn’t really care at this point, but why did he keep going then if this was all for nothing? What the fuck was the point of surviving literal hell if he ends up dead sooner than later anyway? His corpse rotting away for weeks because nobody would even care enough to check on him.
He doesn’t have any friends. Just some people he does drugs with occasionally, but they don’t give a shit about him. They’re there for a good time.
He doesn’t talk to his remaining family either, because they would just lecture him about wasting his life. Like he doesn’t fucking know that already.
But what’s the alternative?
There isn’t one.
It’s been a little over a month since the games ended, since the majority decided to quit. Occasionally he wonders what the other assholes are up to, but there’s no way to know.
The only one he looked up is that fucking asshole MG Coin. He hadn’t posted in forever and Namgyu isn’t sure if he ever will. He’s thinking about sending him a direct message, but decides against it.
No way in hell.
About a week ago, he also started listening to some of Thanos’ old songs. To feel something, anything.
They’re shit, but listening to Thanos’ deep voice grounded him in a way, so whatever. It’s not like Namgyu has good taste in music anyway.
He also tried to figure out what those pills Thanos had given him were, but couldn’t find shit. He told Namgyu that it’s something new, something he had never tried before and truthfully, Namgyu had never felt anything like it.
The tension and anxiety? Gone.
He felt weightless, powerful, untouchable, free.
Heroin was great. But not as great as whatever those stupid pills were.
And that asshole couldn’t even tell him. Namgyu wishes he were still alive, just so he could strangle him.
Whatever.
He rolls over and spots an unfinished cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table. So he grabs it and tucks it between his lips, lights it and takes a long drag. All this money and he still buys the shittiest cigarettes.
At least he can afford better drugs now.
Also more drugs in general.
He frowns as he looks at his phone. A new message from an unknown number? No one’s tried to contact him in weeks. Not since his ex-boss fired him.
The hell?
He opens the message.
>hi
>is this Namgyu?
What the hell kind of message is that? Fucking idiot. No name, no intro, just hi? What is he supposed to reply? For all he knows it could be a rat or the cops.
Or something worse.
He replies anyway.
who is this<
It takes a couple of minutes for a reply to come in so Namgyu takes a piss and turns on his ancient coffee machine.
His phone buzzes.
>minsu
Namgyu stares at the screen, confused. He only knows one Minsu. So where the hell did he get his number from and why is he trying to contact him?
Because doesn’t he like, hate him or something? For killing Semi? And maybe for being shitty to him? Maybe? It’s not Namgyu’s fault the guy is a fucking loser and easy to bully. It’s still a mystery to him why Thanos was so obsessed with that guy.
But Namgyu has to admit that he’s kind of impressed if this is really him. Because damn, he somehow dug up his phone number and now probably wants revenge or something for killing his stupid girlfriend.
Namgyu laughs to himself because it’s not like that virgin had a chance in the first place. She was probably gay as fuck. She sure looked like a carpet muncher.
Whatever.
He won’t lie, he really wants to know what Minsu wants from him. And okay, maybe he also misses talking to someone. And okay, maybe he really wants to talk to someone who gets it.
125 minsu?<
He takes a sip of coffee.
>yes
>can we meet?
If Minsu spent his money on hiring a hitman to kill him, he’s even stupider than he looks. Because Namgyu isn’t going anywhere.
But if he invites him over, he might try to poison him or something. Not that he’s scared of dying. He’s just not going to die because of fucking Minsu of all people. And honestly, it would be a waste to die in such a stupid way after everything that happened.
He sends him his address.
It takes a few hours for the doorbell to ring.
It wakes Namgyu from his much-needed nap on the couch.
He doesn’t remember the last time he slept in his bed.
When he opens the door, Minsu is standing there with his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched, the hood of the his blue hoodie pulled low over his face. He looks up at Namgyu, and for a second, they just stare at each other.
It’s a bit awkward.
What the hell do you say in a situation like this? Minsu looks like he ran the whole way here, scared of being recognized. Namgyu doesn’t know by who though.
Finally, he steps aside and lets the poor bastard in.
As soon as the door shuts behind them, Minsu pulls off his hood and stares down at his feet.
Namgyu rolls his eyes.
“Yeah. Hello to you too, asshole.”
Minsu bites his lip and looks up. God, he looks like shit. Like he hasn’t slept in a month. The rings under his eyes are darker than Namgyu remembers, and his hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in at least two weeks, thin and greasy.
Namgyu figures he probably doesn’t look much better.
“Hi.”
Namgyu vaguely gestures to the couch before heading to the kitchen.
“If you’re here to kill me, just get it over with. If not, then sit down and stop tweaking.”
Minsu mumbles something inaudible. Probably sorry or something equally meaningless, and sits down on the couch. Even from the kitchen, Namgyu can see him fidgeting.
“Hey, asshole! Do you want black or green tea?”
It takes Minsu longer than it should to give him an answer.
Namgyu grits his teeth and grabs the steaming hot cups of tea. He sets them on the table, then heads back to the kitchen, and returns with some leftover cake and two forks.
A few days ago he’d randomly craved cake, so he bought himself one. It was way too big though, so it’s basically been the only thing he’s eaten in days.
Minsu looks confused but takes the fork anyway.
“So. What the fuck do you want and how did you get my number?”
Minsu stares at the fork, turns it over in his hand. He’s probably thinking it.
Imagining stabbing Namgyu with his own fork, on his own couch, in his own fuck-ass apartment. And nobody would know Minsu had ever been here. He would probably get away with it.
He flinches when Minsu leans forward to reach for the cake.
Does he think he’s cool and mysterious by not answering right away? It’s seriously starting to piss him off.
Minsu swallows the bite of cake and takes a sip of his tea before he finally says something.
“Are you selling ketamine?”
Now, Namgyu had expected anything, everything, but that.
Ketamine?
Why the fuck would he want to buy ketamine? He gives Minsu a once-over, and he can’t deny it.
The guy looks like a fucking junkie.
Namgyu snorts.
“No fucking way. What the hell happened to you?”
Minsu furrows his brows. The corner of his mouth twitches, he’s obviously pissed but tries to stay calm.
It’s kind of intriguing.
“Are you selling, yes or no?”
Namgyu takes a bite of cake and chews very slowly. Yeah, fuck that guy.
“I don’t sell anything, dipshit. Especially not K.”
Minsu sighs, and they continue to eat the cake in silence, while Namgyu keeps eyeing Minsu. He looks like he ran five marathons today.
Like absolute shit.
No way in hell he’s spending all his money on drugs, too. There’s still one question that idiot hasn’t answered.
“So, who gave you my number?”
Minsu slowly turns his head to look at him, he runs a hand over his thigh.
“I was at the club you worked at. Your colleague told me you don’t work there anymore, but some guy said he could give me your number.”
What the hell???
Namgyu’s confused because how the hell did he know where he worked?
But then he realizes that he must have had mentioned it. Maybe he mentioned it to Thanos? Because there is no way Minsu just guessed. Or worse, stalked him. Or even worse, knew him before they officially met and just didn’t say anything.
What if he recognized Namgyu durning the games because he’d been to Club Pentagon and Namgyu just couldn’t remember him because he’s so fucking plain and boring?
And which idiot just gave him his number?
He hopes that guy dies.
Whatever combination of emotions Minsu’s seeing on his face makes him look at him apologetically.
“You and um… Thanos talked about it.”
Namgyu’s eyes snap back to Minsu, and he just keeps staring at him for a while.
Meanwhile, Minsu fidgets with his sleeves.
“I…I found the cross. With the pills. I took them and then I tried to get more of them, but when I tried to describe them to the dealer guy, he gave me molly. It wasn’t molly.”
What.
“Dealer… guy.”
Okay.
“Whatever. What the fuck do you mean you took the drugs? What the hell!”
“I didn’t want to feel like shit anymore! And it worked for you!”
“You fucking asshole!”
Minsu doesn’t even get the chance to react before Namgyu launches himself at him. His eyes widen, and he tries to push Namgyu off.
“You stole them!”
Namgyu straddles Minsu and shoves him down into the couch cushions, fist gripping the front of his blue hoodie.
“They weren’t even yours! How could I have stolen them from you?”
Namgyu just sits there, still on top of Minsu, thinking about what to do next.
He wants to punch him in the face, but something is holding him back. It’s not what Minsu said, because that was bullshit. Yeah, maybe they weren’t his originally, but he was the one who got them off Thanos’ dead body, so fuck you Minsu.
Beating each other up won’t solve anything. And Namgyu hates to admit it, but he’s been very lonely.
If he punches him in the face now, he won’t ever see him again. Minsu is a pathetic loser, but even pathetic losers know when to stop putting up with crap.
“Fuck you,” is all he says as he climbs off Minsu’s lap.
It takes Minsu a few seconds to get up from the couch too, all the while carefully watching Namgyu, like he’s making sure he’s actually safe.
Namgyu rolls his eyes and heads to the bathroom.
“I need a shower. You can stay over if you want. You should shower too, you smell like shit.”
Then.
“Have you tried heroin?”
And so it began.
Whatever you want to call it.
Namgyu and Minsu’s not-quite-friendship, more-than-acquaintanceship, hobby-sharing relationship.
Minsu tried heroin. He didn’t seem to like it much, though, so Namgyu told him to bring the molly he got from his dealer guy or whatever. So he did, and it was great.
The only downside was that molly always made him fucking horny, and he couldn’t just go to the bathroom and fuck himself with Minsu around.
Speaking of.
Minsu had now basically moved in with him. Not officially or anything, but he spends almost every night at Namgyu’s apartment. He has his own toothbrush, his own clothes, his own drugs, and his own mug.
Well, it was Namgyu’s mug, technically, but the image of that goofy-ass dog on it looks too much like Minsu, so it unofficially became his.
Minsu doesn’t complain most of the time, which is great, because Namgyu knows he can be a bitch sometimes.
Sometimes, though, he looks like he wants to strangle Namgyu with this bare hands. Maybe when he’s sleeping or something, when he’s vulnerable.
He could, if he wanted.
Sometimes he glares at him and tells him to shut up, and it makes Namgyu feel a little funny.
One time, Namgyu walks out of the shower shirtless. It’s not like it never happened before, just rare enough that it’s no surprise when Minsu’s gaze lands on his chest, on the scars there, and stays there.
“Are you gonna keep staring or say something, idiot?”
Minsu’s eyes snap up to meet his, and he flushes in embarrassment.
“Sorry, I just… are you…”
“Yes, I have a pussy. So what? Got something against it?”
It’s not like he’s defensive or anything like that, really. He’ll just simply have to kill him. If he has a problem with it, of course.
Minsu shakes his head with a bit too much force, stuttering nonsense before stopping and starting over, finally talking like a normal person.
“No! Of course not! I just didn’t know.”
Namgyu snorts and walks over to his dresser for a fresh shirt.
“Yeah, whatever. You weren’t supposed to know, but now you basically live here, so might as well.”
When he comes back into the living room, Minsu’s not looking at him. Instead, he’s staring through the TV screen, like he’s concentrating really hard to understand what the host of some trashy reality show is saying.
Namgyu likes the red on his cheeks.
They don’t kiss the first time they have sex.
It’s fast and desperate, and Namgyu’s so fucking horny he just wants to get off, wants to sit down on Minsu’s pathetic dick and ride him like he’s nothing more than a toy for him to use.
Minsu’s so into it, too.
He keeps touching Namgyu everywhere, except where it really matters.
It’s still nice, though.
To be touched after what feels like forever.
He isn’t sure if it turns him on that it’s Minsu, specifically, or if it’s just because he needs cock.
“Take off your fucking shorts and lean against the headrest.”
Minsu listens to his commands like the good boy he is, pulling down his basketball shorts. Namgyu’s eyes fly to his crotch, where his dick is tenting his boxers.
He jumps him instantly, and starts stroking him through his underwear.
The sounds Minsu makes are delicious. Like he’s already so close to coming just from a shitty handjob.
If you can even call it that.
“Look at you. So pathetic. Don’t tell me you’re actually a virgin.”
Minsu moans as Namgyu twists his wrist, speeds up.
“No—not actually.”
Whatever that means.
Everything after that blurs together.
The only thing Namgyu really remembers is carelessly fingering himself and, ow, he’s lucky he was already wet as fuck.
And the sounds the couch made as he rode Minsu into a coma.
Okay, not actually, obviously.
But Minsu fell asleep instantly after coming all over Namgyu’s stomach.
Disgusting. Whatever.
They didn’t talk about it when they woke up. They just went out to eat burgers for breakfast.
They decide to go see a movie.
Yeah, crazy, but doing the same fucking shit all day, every day, makes Namgyu want to lose it.
And he can tell Minsu feels the same.
He guesses doing drugs and alcohol is cool, as long as you do other shit once in a while.
Balance and shit.
Minsu doesn’t really care about what they’re watching, so Namgyu picks the new slasher that’s supposed to be super fucked up and hardcore and super scary or whatever.
Minsu looks at him a little funny but doesn’t say anything.
Not that it would have mattered anyway, because Namgyu doesn’t give a shit about what Minsu thinks.
They leave the apartment in hoodies and sweatpants, because honestly, why bother making yourself look presentable when everyone else at this ungodly hour looks just as shitty?
Once they’re there, Minsu buys them a big bucket of popcorn and two cups of Coke.
Great, salty popcorn.
Just what he needed.
You’d expect Minsu to be into sweets, but apparently he’s not.
Weirdo.
While they wait to for the movie to start, Namgyu scans the other people who decided it’s a great idea to see a shitty slasher at 11p.m. on a Thursday. There were a couple of guys, maybe around their age. And two couples.
How romantic.
These idiots are probably counting on their little girlfriends pissing themselves and clinging to them the whole time, and they’re going to be the big, awesome, protective boyfriends.
Pathetic.
Namgyu smiles to himself and leans into Minsu’s space.
“Imagine if they knew we killed people,” he whispers. “Bet they wouldn’t be so tough.”
Minsu freezes for a second before grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it into his mouth. He chews slowly, then grabs another handful.
“What? It’s true, isn’t it? We’re killers. Nothing’s going to change that.”
Minsu doesn’t look at him. Just glares at the screen.
He’s probably still in denial. Can’t accept the fact that’s he’s just like Namgyu.
Namgyu, who killed Semi. Namgyu, who stabbed more people than necessary to survive. Namgyu, who enjoyed watching the the light leave people’s eyes when he killed them.
“The movie’s about to start.”
He doesn’t straight up say it but this basically means shut up.
Namgyu rolls his eyes.
Ignorance is bliss, he guesses.
He wonders if Minsu ever imagined himself as one of those guys. Taking his girlfriend to see a scary movie, comforting her while she clings to his arm.
Namgyu snorts and pops some popcorn into his mouth.
It’s sweet.
He looks over at Minsu, who’s pretending Namgyu isn’t even there.
Whatever.
“Faster! Ah!”
He pulls Minsu down into a kiss, their tongues lazily sliding against each other as Minsu picks up the pace.
Faster, harder.
It’s so good.
Making Minsu do all the work while still being in control.
Fuck, it’s so good.
They’re also having sex on the bed this time, which automatically makes the experience a thousand times better.
Namgyu can taste the soju on Minsu’s lips, can feel his skin under his fingernails, where he’s clawing at his back, his shoulder blades.
Minsu’s not big or anything. Pretty average, just like everything else about him, but he’s definitely on the thicker side, and it honestly drives Namgyu crazy.
“Fuck…”
Namgyu moans. And fuck, this is so hot.
Hearing Minsu moan and swear turns him on even more, and if that’s not proof Namgyu has some sort of psychic damage or something, then I don’t know what is.
“Choke me.”
“What?”
Minsu acts like that’s too far for him. Like he isn’t a total freak.
Like Namgyu can’t feel his cock twitch inside him.
Why can’t he just admit that he’s fucked up in the head? He’s balls-deep inside a crazy, murderous junkie, for fuck’s sake.
“Choke me. I know you want to.”
Minsu bites his lip but speeds up again, placing his hands on Namgyu’s collarbones.
“Come on. Don’t you want to kill me? As revenge for Semi?”
Something snaps.
Minsu’s hands suddenly close around Namgyu’s neck, heavy and strong. He doesn’t stop fucking him.
Hard and fast. Rhythm off. Angry and desperate.
Somehow, it’s even hotter like this.
Namgyu’s eyes roll back, spit dripping down his chin as Minsu grits hit teeth and thinks, actually thinks, about crushing his windpipe.
“You know,” Minsu growls, “I wanted to kill you. I killed her because I thought she was you.”
Maybe it’s a moment of clarity or something, because Minsu suddenly let’s go of him. Maybe because he’s turning pale, paler than usual. Maybe he realizes he’s about to have his dick stuck in a corpse. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t actually want Namgyu to die anymore.
Whatever the reason is, Namgyu’s mind blanks as his orgasm washes over him. He spasms beneath Minsu, who keeps thrusting.
A few more desperate pumps and he comes too.
He doesn’t stop immediately, keeps lazily fucking his cum back into Namgyu’s cunt until he yells at him to get the fuck off.
He doesn’t think he has the energy to shower, even with the uncomfortable stickiness between his legs.
Maybe he’ll wait a bit, then ask Minsu to eat him out.
He passes out before he can finish the thought.
Bump bump bump bump
Namgyu throws his head back as the beat rattles his bones.
The floor beneath him vibrates, the sea of bodies around him hot and sweaty as he moves with the waves. Sweat runs down his neck, maybe he should finally get a haircut. His shirt clings to his skin and his feet ache.
And yet, he has no plans to go home anytime soon.
He needs this.
Needs the shitty techno exploding his ear drums, needs to turn deaf to the world.
He’s in his own little world, high, dancing without a single care, when he feels someone tap his shoulder.
He spins around, ready to to yell at the guy behind him.
Because, seriously, fuck off.
But the guy, taller than him, Namgyu notices, leans into his personal space to say something into his ear. Namgyu doesn’t catch shit. The music is too loud, and, honestly?
He doesn’t give a fuck.
The guy leans in again, places both hands on Namgyu’s hips, and this time raises his voice as his lips brush the shell of Namgyu’s ear.
This time, he hears him loud and clear.
Meet me in the bathroom.
The guy doesn’t even wait for a response. Just walks off.
Bastard.
Does this guy really think he’s so desirable that anyone would just drop everything to suck his dick? Namgyu continues to dance.
But something in the back of his mind tells him to follow him.
To let it happen.
And okay, maybe he is a stupid fucking idiot, because a few minutes later he finds himself pressed against the wall of a bathroom stall.
What?
The guy is hot, so why the hell not?
Namgyu moans into the stranger’s mouth as fingers start to circle his clit. He probably told him his name at some point, but Namgyu doesn’t care to remember it.
He used to do this shit all the time. But something about this time feels off.
Is it because of Minsu?
That would be ridiculous. It’s not like he’s cheating on him or anything like that. They are not together. They never were and they never will be.
Whatever this thing between them is, it has nothing to do with romance, or with love.
For a fleeting moment he wonders what Minsu’s up to.
Maybe he’s watching a movie, maybe he’s sleeping, maybe he’s jerking off to anime girls, maybe he’s smoking a joint.
The thought slips away when he drops to his knees.
He’s going to die.
This is God’s punishment for all the sins he’s committed in his short, miserable life.
Okay, maybe it’s not that deep. He’s just sick. Probably the flu or something like that.
He has a fever, his throat is sore, and his mouth is dry. It hurts when he tries to talk, so he keeps his mouth shut and sleeps through most of the day.
When he wakes up, he finds a glas of water and some medicine on his nightstand. He downs both quickly and turns to look at Minsu, who’s standing in the doorframe, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like shit. What does it look like?”
Minsu sighs and walks over, presses the back of his hand against Namgyu’s forehead.
Namgyu lets him.
“Do you want some chicken soup?”
Namgyu coughs into his fist and gives a weak nod.
“You made soup? I thought you can’t cook shit.”
Minsu just shrugs and turns towards the kitchen.
“Bought some packs of instant soup.”
Figures.
Who even are these people???
Maybe he should watch something more interesting. Or just anything that isn’t actively rotting his brain, rather than these stupid, over-produced idol shows.
He doesn’t even fucking know the idols.
They’re pretty women, he supposes. But that’s a given. Ugly bitches don’t become idols.
He takes a sip of his beer as the girl with the red hair starts retelling a story from their trainee days.
He doesn’t give a fuck.
He pulls out his phone.
Still nothing.
Whatever.
He takes another sip and switches the channel to something at least slightly more interesting. Some cringey dating show. Still stupid, but at least it’s entertaining.
He keeps watching when another dating show comes on right after, and okay. Maybe he’s a little bit invested in the drama.
Like, holy fuck. These people are insane.
He glances at his phone.
Still nothing.
For some reason, he decides to check MG Coin's account.
Nothing.
He wonders what that guy is up to now.
Well, definitely not being a father, that’s for sure.
That girl fucking hates him. And there is absolutely no way he suddenly decided to be interested in her or her kid.
He’s also seen a couple of fan accounts online talking about Thanos’ disappearance.
Yes, shockingly, Thanos still has dedicated fans online.
Namgyu wonders if the cops are looking into it.
Oh, who is he kidding? Those bastards are probably all in on it.
…
Where the fuck is he?
Namgyu thinks about texting him. Just to ask if he’s coming home tonight or not.
He decides against it.
He’s not that pathetic. He can go a couple days on his own.
Still.
What if Minsu’s dead body is rotting in some shady alley somewhere? And what if Namgyu’s the last person who’s seen him? The cops could probably trace everything back to him.
Maybe he finally cracked and killed himself.
Maybe he finally had the guts to do it.
Namgyu takes another sip and stares at the TV, doesn’t really comprehend what the people on screen are saying.
He’s probably just back at his own apartment.
Maybe he needs some space.
He left Tuesday night and now it’s Friday. Or Saturday morning.
Who gives a shit.
Minsu comes home on Sunday morning.
“Give me your wallet, I forgot mine.”
It’s the middle of the night and they’re at some gas station just outside of Seoul. This is what happens when you decide to “go on a little trip”, to “leave the apartment”, to “spend time with nature” and all that shit.
He doesn’t even remember who came up with that brilliant idea in the first place. Probably Minsu, not like it matters.
It’s just that they didn’t think they would have to spend the night in some cheap-ass motel. Luckily for them, there’s this gas station nearby.
They need toothpaste and toothbrushes. Maybe some snack. Some shitty sandwiches.
Namgyu left his wallet back in the motel room, so he snatches Minsu’s out of his hands.
It’s not like he wouldn’t have made Minsu pay anyway.
His stops flipping through the bills when something catches his eye.
Minsu seems to notice immediately, because he’s at Namgyu’s side in an instant, snatches his wallet back, pulls out a couple of banknotes and leaves with the bag of items they have just purchased.
They walk back in silence until Namgyu decides to break it.
“Why do you need that?”
“What kind of question is that? To be safe, obviously.”
Namgyu lets out a sharp laugh. Oh, come on.
“Safe? You? You like not being safe. It turns you on.”
He reaches to ruffle Minsu’s hair, but Minsu slaps his hand away before he can even get close.
His jaw tight and teeth clenched.
“I just don’t want to catch something.”
“Right.”
Namgyu doesn’t say anything else.
And, okay. He’s a little bit offended.
They continue to walk the rest of the way back in silence.
But.
“You scared of some crazy bitch baby-trapping you? Don’t worry. You’re not worth it.”
Minsu ignores him for the rest of the night.
When they’re in bed, he turns his back to him.
It’s crazy how they only have a one-month age difference.
Minsu looks way younger than he actually is, people can never guess his age right. It becomes a problem when they’re at a bar or club or any place that sells alcohol, really.
Because you can see how embarrassed he gets when he has to pull out his ID.
Namgyu finds it amusing.
They didn’t really celebrate either of their birthdays.
Just got high, fucked, ate cake.
The usual.
So now they’ve decided to make up for it by going out for sushi. Apparently, it’s very good and the guy who makes it is something like a legend or whatever. Namgyu likes sushi, sure, but it’s probably not one of his favorite foods.
Minsu, on the other hand? That guy could it it everyday. Breakfast, lunch, dinner.
So they dress up a bit for the occasion and head over to the restaurant.
It’s nice.
Really pretty.
They order some soju and eat their sushi, talk about random shit. Namgyu retells the plot of the stupid show he’s been watching recently, and Minsu listens, attentively. At some point, Minsu starts talking about his high school days and what an awful time it was.
Namgyu laughs because, duh.
It’s not like Minsu’s life is that much better now.
If anything, it’s worse.
So much worse.
He’s a depressed addict, no girlfriend, no house, no job.
At least he has money.
Not like Namgyu’s life is any better, obviously. They basically share the same life now. But it’s not as tragic as Minsu’s.
At least, that’s what he thinks.
Because.
Namgyu has been an addict for a very long time now. He still wonders how the heroin hasn’t killed him yet. He never wanted a relationship, a family, any of that shit.
But Minsu?
That guy became the way he is partially because of Namgyu.
He probably always wanted a wife and kids, a stable job, all that shit.
But now he only has Namgyu.
Just some guy he met in the most fucked-up place imaginable.
They order red bean ice cream for dessert and, once they pay their bill, take a walk along the Han River.
And as the night breeze hits his face, Namgyu thinks this might be the fist time he’s been happy in a very long time.
He knows it never lasts.
One day, he’s going to rip off Minsu’s stupid fucking dick.
There’s no way a person who has sex this often can still be such a fucking virgin.
He’s lucky Namgyu’s on his hands and knees, or else he would have beaten him to death by now.
“What the fuck? Did you fall asleep or something?”
Namgyu knows he’s nervous, because it’s the first time Namgyu’s letting him lead.
Yeah, I know. Shocker.
But it’s not that big of a deal, so why can’t he just act on his urges and stick it in?
Namgyu lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding when he feels Minsu’s cockhead slide between his folds.
They both moan once he’s fully in.
Fuck.
Why didn’t he let Minsu fuck him from behind earlier again?
Namgyu stops thinking the second Minsu starts to move.
He knows how Namgyu likes it, and Namgyu knows what he likes.
Minsu starts fucking him harder when he whines like a bitch in heat, pushes him down, so that Namgyu’s holding himself up on his elbows, the side of his face pressed into the sheets.
“Minsu! Minsu!”
Minsu groans, his grip on Namgyu’s hips tightening as he starts pulling them back to meet each thrust.
He’s so easy to please.
That doesn’t mean he should be willing to fuck anything with a hole, though. You gotta have some class, at least.
Namgyu still isn’t sure which crack whore Minsu fucked or whatever.
Or even why.
But this can’t ever happen again.
Because what the fuck?
Namgyu won’t let him anywhere near him ever again if he even thinks about sticking his dick in some stupid, dirty, meth-addicted street bitch.
It’s disgusting.
And unnecessary.
Minsu leans over him, chest pressed to Namgyu’s back, and pushes him further into the mattress.
He mounts him like a fucking mutt in heat and lets gravity do most of the work. One of his hands finds it’s way between Namgyu’s legs, and the other holds him down by the neck as he fucks into him.
And Namgyu thinks that this might be the hottest fucking thing that’s ever happened to him.
He comes with a loud moan and goes limp as Minsu continues to thrust into him.
It doesn’t take long before he follows, with his cock deep inside Namgyu’s cunt.
They don’t move for a couple of minutes.
Namgyu feels the crushing weight lift from his back, making it easier to breath. He sighs, content.
Until he feels Minsu slowly push his cock back in.
He sloppily thrusts forward a couple more times before pulling out completely and lying down on the bed, facing Namgyu.
“You fucking freak.”