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Love feels good, it feels warm. It's like sitting in front of a cozy fireplace with a handmade blanket wrapped around you.
Love also feels like an arrow has been shot right through your chest. It stings, it hurts, it bleeds, and all you can do is watch as the blood flows. Out of your body, out of your life, no longer something you should be concerned about, no longer someone you should care for.
Minseok's hand reaches for the glass, the fourth- no, fifth tonight. He doesn't even remember what he ordered, not like it matters anyway. He's not drinking for the taste.
The people around him laugh, dancing and having fun as the music softens and the lights get dim. Sounds like the DJ has decided it's time for some slow songs.
He turns around at the sea of people, his eyes weakly squinting looking for a place to go that's a little quieter. There's a corner, with a lonely sofa barely big enough for two. He makes up his mind and walks towards the area glass in hand.
It's not as quiet as he'd like, but it's enough for him to dissociate as he downs half the drink in one go. He immediately coughs, the taste just as disgusting as the first time.
If Wooje saw him like this he'd never hear the end of it. Luckily no one knows he's here, they all think he's at home, resting after an exhausting shift at the company.
He sighs, bringing the glass to his lips again. Icy cold alcohol runs down his throat like it's supposed to be a remedy, like it's a pill you take hoping it makes you feel better.
Minseok doesn't flinch when he feels a weight on the sofa, the sound of someone letting air go as they sink on the old cushions.
“Long night?” A manly voice asks, his tone undecipherable.
Minseok doesn't turn, his eyes glued to the dancing ice cubes on his glass.
“No, too short.” He says without much energy.
The man hums, nodding. “I understand. Sometimes I too wish the nights were longer. That's why I come here, this place somehow makes the minutes feel like hours.”
Minseok watches the ice cubes slowly melt. One is significantly larger, but the smaller one sits on top, slowly dripping all the way down to where the last gulp of alcohol sits.
He shakes the glass a little, but the smaller cube doesn't fall. “I hate this place.”
“Why are you here then?” He asks, taking a sip from his drink as he waits for Minseok to answer.
“I don't know. My legs move on their own, and before I realize I'm already here.”
He hears a faint chuckle accompanied by the sound of ice cubes clinking against glass. The man drinks again before speaking.
“I understand that too.”
Now it's Minseok's time to chuckle. He turns slightly, his gaze low, just enough to see the man's hand gently holding the glass.
“That's funny. I thought no one understood anymore.”
“How come?” He asks, his voice dropping lower.
“The only person who knew how it felt died a long time ago.”
The man was silent, but Minseok felt the shift, and he knew he was now looking at him.
“It wasn't in some tragic accident or some incurable illness, but he still died. I saw it with my own two eyes, I saw the moment he died right before me.”
Minseok looked at the hand again, at how it held the glass so carefully, how the golden ring around his finger shone so brightly even when the lights were dim.
“Do you miss him?”
The question lingered in the air, words that Minseok did not want to hear, not from him.
“I miss the person who died.”
The man stared at him for what felt like hours before looking at his own half empty glass.
“I miss someone that died too. He was arrogant, too confident for his own good. He thought he could fix every problem by himself, that he didn't need anyone's help. Everyone thought he was a real tough guy.”
Minseok's gaze moved higher, from his hand to his chest. He looked at how it rose with every breath, how alive he was.
“But you wanna know the truth?” He asked, not waiting for anyone to reply before continuing. “He wasn't tough, he wasn't smart, he wasn't anything anyone thought he was. He was just a broken guy, and throughout his life he broke many people too. Family, friends… and loved ones.”
Minseok gulped, eyelids heavy as the alcohol took its toll. He didn't want to, shouldn't want to, but he still looked up.
A perfectly shaved beard, not a hair on sight. Neatly styled hair, cut just short enough to look as professional as you'd expect from a businessman. And of course, a pair of deep dark brown eyes, looking at him like he's the center of the universe, the answer to all the questions one could ever ask.
Eyes that lack a spark of life that only Minseok remembers. Because as much as he tries to hide it, Minseok knows where the scars are hidden, where the forensics team cut him open to analyze, to determine that yes, he was indeed dead.
The little dot on his earlobe, now fully healed, used to be where a shiny silver earring rested. Minseok remembers because he was there when Hyeonjun poked it with a hairpin.
The oval-shaped scar on his chin that he so desperately covered with makeup now used to be his pride, and Minseok remembers how he always told people he got it fighting a pack of wolves. That obviously wasn't the truth, he just fell down practicing tricks on his skateboard and nearly broke his chin. Minseok also remembers Sanghyeok driving them to the hospital while he cried, saying they were gonna have to remove his lower jaw.
And perhaps the one he remembers the most, the little mole-like marking under his right eye. It looks natural, but Minseok knows it's nothing more than a sloppy stick and poke tattoo. Something silly, done between laughs during a hot summer night.
Something that he made. He, sitting on that man's lap, holding an ink covered needle too close to his face considering how drunk he was. Yet the man, back then just a teen, didn't flinch. He didn't move away, didn't think for a second that things could go wrong.
Minseok remembers how he held his face with one hand, one tiny hand, and how he leaned into it like a tamed circus bear. How he looked at him, his shiny brown eyes trying to record every second into his brain. How he tried to keep a cool face but couldn't help a little smirk. How his hands rested on Minseok's hips, holding him steady so he didn't miss where he had to poke.
Because it wasn't just a tattoo, it wasn't just something silly they did on a random summer night.
It was a promise to be together.
It was an agreement to always have each other.
It was a declaration of love, as raw and pure and innocent as it could've been.
“Why are you here, Minhyeong?” Minseok finally asks, and he can see how his dull eyes seem to shine for the second he says his name.
“Same reason you're here too.”
Minseok chuckles, but he doesn't find it funny at all. “To forget?”
Minhyeong shakes his head. “To remember.”
“I think you should stop.“ Minseok says bluntly, taking a sip before looking at Minhyeong again. “Forget about everything already.”
Now it's Minhyeong who chuckles. He downs the rest of his glass in one go before placing it somewhere on the floor. “If you think that, why are you closer now?”
It's true, Minseok hadn't noticed he had been slowly moving towards him as they spoke. Force of habit, his body just does it on its own.
Minhyeong carefully puts his hand over Minseok's thigh, and the moment he touches the old fabric of his jeans it's like a shock of electricity runs through his body. A sudden warmth, a sting of pain shot right through his chest. Like injecting adrenaline, the urge to move, to touch, to feel alive.
Minseok hears the glass hitting the floor when he drops it, alcohol spilling at their feet. He can't be bothered to tell any of the staff about it, he doesn't give a shit if it gets cleaned or not or if someone trips and falls.
All he can think about, all he can focus on, is Minhyeong. The way his hands instantly grab his waist and pull him to his lap. The way he just fits perfectly, like it's meant to be.
Neither say anything, words aren't needed. They know what the other wants, they always have. Minseok places his hands against Minhyeong's chest, pressing him against the couch, and he just watches. Let's him do whatever he wants, get on him however he pleases.
It's like the wolf letting the hare scratch his nose before opening his jaws to eat him. You know he won't run away, you already bit him once, so now you just play with your food.
Minhyeong feels his hands move towards his neck, wrapping around it and threatening to squeeze. He has the urge to laugh at how absurd it must look. A tiny guy, with his small delicate hands, sitting on his lap trying to strangle him with the most pained expression. Like it's hurting him, like the hands around his neck are somehow connected to his own and he can feel the pressure too.
Minseok bites his lips so hard he tastes metallic, yet he can't even feel the pain. Not when he's looking into Minhyeong's eyes, when he's watching him open his mouth as he struggles to breathe. It hurts, and it hurts so good to see him in pain too.
And Minhyeong agrees, because he doesn't fight back, doesn't move his hands from Minseok's waist. That's where they're supposed to be, and he's getting what he deserves, so there's no need to fight.
He knows it will end soon and it will be his turn. As much as he deserves a punishment, as much as he needs to be reminded of what he did, Minseok can't bear to do it for too long. Because he too is guilty of his own sins, he too knows that his punishment will come soon, and most importantly, he can't take seeing Minhyeong in pain any longer than that.
It's contradictory, it's frustrating, but it also is the only way they know how to make it work. Taking turns to hurt each other as they reward their own broken hearts. Pleasure couldn't come without pain, so they took it upon themselves to be the aggressors.
The reasoning is simple enough. When they look at each other, they can always point a finger and say “It's your fault, you hurt me”, and when they look in the mirror, they can sob and whimper “It's my fault, I hurt him”.
Minseok releases his grip, gasping as if it was on his own neck, and Minhyeong doesn't waste more than one breath before leaning forward and crashing their lips together. Minseok wraps his arms around his reddened neck, and now it's a tender embrace, now it feels like an apology.
And now Minhyeong is the one that punishes, now it's his turn to hurt him. He kisses like it's his last, like he wants to eat him alive, and Minseok lets him, he always does. Lips parted so he can easily devour, eyes closed to not see the monster feasting on him.
But it's no use, Minhyeong is engraved in his brain, and even if he went blind he would still be able to see him. Because Minhyeong is more than just a person. It's a feeling, a feeling that mutates and lives inside him. It's a beast that feeds on his own flesh, eating him from the inside out.
Minseok whines when he bites at his lips, moans weakly when Minhyeong’s tongue is mercilessly forcing his own to dance at its same pace. Acting like he doesn't want it when they both know this is the only place on earth they'd want to be in right now.
Minhyeong finally shows mercy, allowing him to breathe as he leans back, and Minseok gasps for air like a drowning man. He feels the hands holding his waist snaking down, placing themselves on his ass like they owned it. Fingers curl, grabbing a handful of meat and kneading it like a cat.
“My place?” Minhyeong leans forward again to whisper, and Minseok notices how his voice has gotten deeper, more desperate.
“But-” He starts, but Minhyeong shakes his head before he can finish.
“She's gone with the kids, they won't be back until Monday.”
Minseok looks at Minhyeong, at his eagerness, at how much he needs it, how much he needs him. He looks into his eyes that still hold some innocence in them, still look at him pleading like a kicked puppy. He looks, and he sees a phantom of who he used to be, of a man he could never say no to.
And unfortunately, despite the person he's looking at not being who he loved all those years ago, he still can't say no.
“Okay, let's go.”
Minhyeong doesn't lose a single second, practically jumping from his seat at the confirmation. He stretches a hand towards him, waiting, and Minseok doesn't hesitate to take it and let himself be pulled up.
He probably should, because taking that hand means being pulled up before getting shoved down, but he doesn't. He can't not take it, he can't. He's just a man, a foolish man.
And just like a fool he lets Minhyeong drag him to the counter, watching in silence as he pays for everything and leads him to the exit door.
His foolish heart still has the audacity to skip a few beats when Minhyeong takes him to his car, opening the door for him before releasing his hand. He waits until Minseok is inside to close, quickly making his way to the other side of the vehicle.
Minseok gets comfortable on the seat, like he belongs in there. Such a stupid idea, but for tonight he's allowing himself to believe it. He gets to be a little selfish and indulge, gets to act like he's the one who's been there for all those years.
The engine rumbles like the bellow of a hungry beast, and Minseok simply closes his eyes and rests his head back. He needs to pause for a moment to ease the dizziness.
It's probably been a few minutes when he opens his eyes again. The road is empty, and all that can be heard is the soft purring of the engine and the tires against asphalt.
He moves his head slightly, just enough to look at Minhyeong driving. One hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh. He doesn't say anything, just stretches his hand and grabs Minhyeong's.
Minhyeong looks at it, and Minseok knows what sort of thoughts are going through his head before his eyes go back to the road.
Only when they're finally getting closer does Minseok release him. He recognizes the neighborhood even though he's only around for such short amounts of time.
Minhyeong parks before a beautiful house, with a garden full of neatly kept trees and flowers. He exits the car first and goes to open Minseok's door, his hand once again waiting to be taken.
And Minseok takes it, even when he knows it belongs to someone else. He follows inside the home, tightly holding Minhyeong's hand as he guides him upstairs to his room.
Minseok knows he shouldn't, but he looks at the pictures hanging on the wall. Pictures of a wedding where the groom smiles, of a picnic where a father holds his son, of a birthday in which a daughter cheerfully hands him a homemade postcard full of glitter and messy letters scattered around to form a “happy birthday daddy”. He looks at all of them, at his smile in each and every one, and the devil inside him giggles with delight.
Because as happy as Minhyeong looks in them, Minseok knows he's seen him smile harder. He knows he's capable of looking happier, knows that when he smiles for real his eyes squint and turn into crescent moons. Yet in the pictures he's always looking at the camera, always making sure he looks happy enough.
He chuckles silently, his eyes finally going from the pictures to the back of the man guiding him. Minhyeong opens the door to a bedroom with a king sized bed, the sheets messily thrown around from when he woke up this morning.
Minseok follows inside, letting go of his hand to take a seat at the edge of the bed. Minhyeong closes the door even when they're alone in the house.
He doesn't say anything, just starts taking off his clothes under Minseok's attentive gaze. His eyes focus on Minhyeong's hands, on how he takes off his tie with expertise like he's done a million times before, how he slips out of the carefully tailored jacket of his suit like a butterfly coming out of the chrysalis.
It's almost hypnotizing watching his fingers undo every button, slowly revealing his collarbone and chest. Minseok swallows the saliva that had been accumulating in his mouth, gulping loud enough for Minhyeong to hear.
The man just chuckles, finally peeling the shirt off of him and throwing it on top of a drawer. His body is not as it was when they were teens, but Minseok can't help but to have the same reaction every time. Eagerness, desire, a need to claim and be claimed even after more than 20 years since their first time.
Minseok gestures for him to get closer, and Minhyeong does without questioning. Why would he? He already knows what Minseok is thinking, what he wants and how he wants it.
Some connections just can't be broken, no matter how many years go by. You can change the way you dress, the way you talk, the way you act, the way you love, but the soul remembers, it always does. Because when you're together in a locked room, when you're looking into each other's eyes like it's painful to avert your gaze, the soul is the one that takes control.
And Minseok's soul is telling him to run into the flames, to open the wolf's jaws and crawl inside just so he can be chewed and swallowed like a treat.
His hands reach for Minhyeong's belt, unbuckling it like he's in a hurry. He tugs at it and throws it on the floor when it finally slips out of his pants.
Minhyeong doesn't say anything, just watches with a predatory gaze as Minseok pulls down his trousers. Tiny hands grab onto the waistband of his boxers, no hesitation as he too pulls those down.
Minhyeong's cock is already half hard, and he knows it won't take long before he's ready when Minseok spits on his palm and wraps it around the base. He starts a slow rhythm, thoroughly coating the entire length and feeling it harden with each pump.
Minseok brings himself closer, barely sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand stays wrapped around the base, continuing a slow jerking motion as he licks his lips. He'd never been able to take it all in his mouth, so he learned to make up for it with his hands.
Not like Minhyeong ever cared. He would've taken anything Minseok gave him back then, and he's still taking whatever Minseok offers today.
“Ah… Minseokie…” Minhyeong grunts, his hands clenching to fists when the smaller one finally takes the head of his cock in.
His movements carry an eagerness, a sense of desperation only Minhyeong can understand. He looks up at the man, meets his eyes as he takes more into his mouth. The stretch is uncomfortable, almost asphyxiating when he forces himself deeper, and that's just what he needs.
Something to fill him up so he can pretend he's complete, so the voice in his head that pesters him can finally shut up, even if only for a moment.
Minseok picks up a pace, bobbing his head while his hand covers what he can't take. The sounds that fill the room are wet and filthy, sinful, something that no one should ever know.
Minhyeong groans, watching Minseok taking it out for a moment and sucking on the tip. His tongue traces circles on the head, lapping at the precum, and he has to fight the urge to just grab Minseok's head and slam his cock all the way in until it hits the back of his throat.
He knows he could do it, any resistance would be futile, but he can't. It's an agreement between them. “You let me do my thing and I let you do yours”, that's what Minseok had said. In reality, what that meant is “Don't bother me when I treat myself and you can ruin me when I'm done pretending.”
So Minhyeong behaves, he lets Minseok tease all he wants, lets him have his fun. He bites his lips when Minseok kisses his cock once, twice, loud and wet against his length. He runs his tongue alongside it, feels the veins and how it throbs with every pump and kiss.
Minseok smirks to himself when he looks at how Minhyeong is biting his lower lip, so desperate for his turn to come he almost looks feral. It builds up anticipation, a nervous sensation in his stomach he only ever feels with this man.
It motivates him to be a little meaner, so he bites on the tip, feeling his own dick harden when Minhyeong whines. He giggles, giving where he bit a kiss before brushing his teeth against it again. His hand moves up, now jerking the whole length as he continues abusing the sensitive tip.
He sees a drop of sweat running down Minhyeong's forehead, sees how he opens and closes his fists whenever his teeth press a little harder against the reddened head of his cock.
Minhyeong gulps, his legs trembling when Minseok sucks harder on the tip. “C-can I…?” He asks, almost timidly.
Minseok let's go with a wet plop, licking his lips shiny before answering. “That's not how you ask, Minhyeong.”
Minhyeong trembles again, trying his best not to come as Minseok mercilessly threatens to force the orgasm out of him. His hand is gentle, slender fingers coated in saliva and precum that delicately continue to torture him.
“Please, Minseok-” He gasps, toes curling and teeth clenching.
Minseok sighs, acting like he's saving Minhyeong's life by nodding. “Alright, go ahead.”
Minseok has little to no time to prepare before Minhyeong is coming with a groan, ropes of cum painting his lips and cheek. He takes it with a little smirk, his eyes fully focused on the way Minhyeong's face scrunches, how he gasps and breathes heavily with each crashing wave of the orgasm.
He licks the warm seed off his lips, wipes it from his cheek and slowly brings his fingers to his mouth. And Minhyeong doesn't miss a second, his gaze locked on the way Minseok's tongue carefully traces his fingers.
But as hypnotizing as it is, the beast can only be held back so much. Minseok knows he's already run out of time just by looking into his eyes.
The room seems to become warmer, like the interior of an oven that's starting to heat up. Minhyeong kicks the pants and boxers that were crumpled at his feet away, and one look, one simple knowing look, is all he gives Minseok as both a warning and a reminder that now it's his turn.
Minseok doesn't stand up, just waits like a cornered bunny who can only accept its fate. Now this is the part he loves most, the one that makes his body feel like a million shocks of electricity running through every bone and muscle.
His legs tremble with both anticipation and fear, because he doesn't know what Minhyeong will do this time. Will he finally break him, will it be the day he snaps and can't take it anymore? Or will he manage to tame the beast, to put a collar around his neck and teach it to sit and stay?
Minhyeong doesn't let him dwell on the thought much longer. His hand reaches for Minseok's neck, wrapping around it without caring if he's hurting or not. Any trace of kindness, of gentleness or any other human compassion is lost the moment his hand touches Minseok's skin.
He lifts him up by the neck and throws him back to the bed, body hitting the mattress with a loud thud. Minseok coughs a few times, knowing that tomorrow there will probably be a mark around his neck.
“Minseokie…” The voice is deep, and it speaks his name like an ominous threat, like some sort of entity mimicking Minhyeong to lure him in.
But Minseok knows that's also him. He's seen every side, lived through every change, he knows Minhyeong's brain more than his own. That's why he doesn't flinch when the beast shaped like his friend starts crawling up to him.
Whatever it is that Minhyeong wants to do, he will take it. That's how it's always been, even when they were teens. For the rest of the world it had looked like Minseok was the one in charge, the one who wore the pants, but as the beast rips his pants off and towers over him, he laughs at how wrong everyone had always been about them.
Minseok might've been the most vocal one, but there hadn't been a moment where Minhyeong wasn't in control. That's something only he knows, because Minhyeong had made it his mission to hide that part of himself so no one can see what he really is.
And what he really is, is a monster. Not figuratively or metaphorically, no, he's a monster. One that consumes without mercy, with razor sharp claws that tear apart Minseok's clothes and leave him naked and exposed.
He shivers at the sight, at the drooling beast that looks at him like a predator stalking its injured prey. Minhyeong can't see it, but he can smell the blood, so he knows there's a wound. And if there's a wound, if he's hurt, that must mean now it's time to attack.
But Minseok's wound isn't physical, it's not something you can sink your teeth in. So instead Minhyeong bites at the soul, rips it apart with every kiss he plants against Minseok's lips.
His claws trace over old scars on Minseok's body, from his hips all the way up to his chest. And for a moment the beast calms down, a monstrous hand pressing right over the rapidly beating heart of his prey. The creature listens, kisses as tender as a mouth filled with sharp teeth and pointy fangs can give.
Minseok wraps his arms around Minhyeong's neck, desperately clutching a handful of hair and feeling the sweat run in between his fingers.
The kisses become hungrier, and Minseok gives and gives more of himself, more of anything that can be eaten. He parts his lips, lets Minhyeong's tongue invade his mouth and do as it pleases.
Minseok whimpers when he feels fangs sinking in his lower lip, a metallic taste mixing in the desperate kisses. Only when Minhyeong decides it's time and breaks the kiss can he finally gasp for air.
But his gasping doesn't last long, because three fingers are shoved in his mouth without warning or instructions. Not like he needs them, he's used to it by now. Minhyeong watches attentively, eyes recording every detail, brain engraving every touch in his memory.
Minseok licks the fingers, coats them in saliva and sucks messily until Minhyeong pulls back. The room is dark, only illuminated by a streetlight’s dim light that manages to seep through a window, and all Minseok can see is a dark silhouette looming over him. Only Minhyeong's eyes shine, reflecting the artificial light.
“Hold them.” His voice commands, deeper than the usual tone. He grabs Minseok's legs and pushes them back, almost folding him in half.
Minseok hooks his arms under his legs, holding them in place and leaving himself completely exposed.
Usually Minhyeong would take his time, but not today. It's been too long, and he needs it so badly he doesn't even care when Minseok flinches and whines in pain as he forces two fingers inside him. He opens and closes them in a scissoring motion, his only focus stretching him as quick as he can.
“W-wait, it hurts! Agh!-” Minseok whines when he feels an extra finger pushing its way in. He squints his eyes, tears forming at the corners with each merciless thrust of Minhyeong's long fingers.
“You can take it, I know you can.” He affirms, not moved at all by the teary eyed man whining under him. “I could shove my whole hand and you would still take it, even if it breaks you.”
Minseok can't see it, but he feels the smirk on his lips. He knows him enough to perfectly picture his face, sweaty dark strands sticking to his forehead, a confident arrogant grin on his pretty lips and a pair of piercing brown eyes that could never look like that at anyone else.
Minhyeong tried so hard to be the image of a perfect husband, a doting father, a thoughtful friend… but in the end, he was just a man. A man with too much frustration building up inside, too much desire and need to break, to crush that illusion of the perfect man he's supposed to be.
He locked himself in a cage and threw the key, unaware that there was someone watching. Someone who saw where the key landed, picked it up and kept it for himself. Someone who's stupid enough to willingly ignore the danger and open the cage, who receives the beast with open arms and lets it feast on his flesh.
Because every beast needs a victim, and if Minhyeong is gonna eat someone up and tear them apart, it's gonna be Minseok. No matter when or where, it's gonna be him, always.
“P-please, Minhyeongie…”
The beasts grins, delighted. He takes out his fingers carelessly, earning a whimper from the man under him.
“You can let go now.” He says, voice raspy. Minseok's arms fall to his sides, and the holds on his legs are replaced by Minhyeong's strong hands.
He gets on top, bending him, crushing his body against the mattress. Minseok takes deep breaths, mentally preparing himself when he feels the head of Minhyeong's cock pressing against his entrance.
It hurts, it always did, but he loves the pain. It's what makes him feel alive, what reminds him that he has a beating heart. With every inch that forces itself deeper he knows he's closer to what he's been chasing after. He can feel it in every painful gasp, every tear that runs down his cheek. In the way Minhyeong’s hands tighten their hold, how he breathes roughly after every thrust.
That cacophony of sinful sounds is what makes the turmoil in his head disappear, hurtful thoughts and memories replaced by the static sounds of the most feral and primitive acts.
He bites the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood, and Minhyeong, like the beast he is, seems to smell it in an instant. He launches forward, catching Minseok's lips in the most brutal kiss two broken men can share. He bites, slides his tongue in like a shark in a blood-driven frenzy.
And Minseok takes it, because that's exactly what he was looking for. The pain, the punishment, it's what he needs to feel something again. It's what they both need, because as different as they might be, their sins are the same. They carry the same guilt, bound by the same shackles.
Minhyeong lets go of his mouth and instead attacks his neck, sucking and roughly kissing every inch of skin he can get. Minseok tilts his head, giving him space as his arms hug the man over him and claw at his back.
It's a ruthless rhythm of bites and thrusts, stings of pain in both his neck and bottom. Minhyeong bites his shoulder with enough force to sink his fangs and break the skin, and Minseok cries in pain, his nails painting red bloody stripes alongside the beast's back.
“Minhyeong- please…” Minseok weakly wails, gasping in between sobs.
Minhyeong doesn't stop though, doesn't even consider it an option. He feels satisfied with what he did on Minseok's neck, so he plants his hands on each side of his head for balance and takes a deep breath.
“Minseok… Don't go to that place anymore, you hear me?” He has the audacity to demand, as if he was anything to the man quietly sniffling under him.
Minseok looks at him through tear filled eyes. “You always say that… and then you go too.”
Minhyeong groans, his hips thrusting forward and making Minseok gasp and moan pathetically.
“Because I need to get you out of there. I wouldn't go if you didn't.”
Minseok blinks hard, trying to force the tears away so he can get a better look of the man talking to him. Minhyeong looks… distressed. A part of him enraged, the other melancholic. But he's not crazy, he has a reason to be mad, to be sad, and to not want Minseok to go to that bar ever again.
“Then I will keep going.” Minseok finally answers, and Minhyeong's expression is something only he can understand.
He looks hurt.
Because that bar is where they first met on a crazy August night. It's where they had their first kiss, it's where they both drunkenly confessed as all their friends spat their drinks in shock and started cheering. It's where Minhyeong… never proposed to him.
He wanted to, he really did, but the ring didn't leave his pocket that night, nor any other night after that day. It only went downhill from then on.
It happened one particularly cold, rainy November night. They had fought a few days before, and by some sort of twisted destiny luck, both had decided to come alone to that bar, that night. Minhyeong remembers it like it just happened minutes ago. Minseok, his Minseokie, on the dancefloor making out with some guy.
Minhyeong is not someone violent, but at that moment he saw red, and red did he paint the floor. When security finally pulled him away he had already beaten the guy to a pulp. He got kicked out, and Minseok followed outside, but it wasn't to comfort him.
“Let's break up.”
Oh, how he'd pay any price to forget that moment ever happened. To forget Minseok's teary face, how he clutched his fists with anger, how he looked like the one who got beat up just from muttering those words.
Since that day, Minhyeong has hated the bar.
He's tried to remake his life, to forget and move on, to be the good son his family always wanted. He did all the things they told him would make him happy, he got a good job, a family, kids, so why?
Why does he come back to that dreadful bar?
Why does he order that same drink he used to drink?
The answer is easy.
Because he never moved on. He could never forget his first and only love. Even after dating others, after getting married, after being a father, he just couldn't.
So he went back, not really hoping to find anything more than bad memories and a headache, but he found him. And God knows he tried to be strong, tried to look away, but a man can only endure so much. It had been so long, so many years, and there he was. Still beautiful, still dreamy, still Minseokie.
And then he felt an impulse, like a rotting zombie smelling flesh after wandering for years. He went up to him, touched his shoulder, and the moment Minseok turned and looked at him with those big shiny eyes he knew it was over.
There was no going back, no chains that could hold him, no muzzle to prevent his bite. And Minseok looked shocked for a second, but then he just gave in.
“Don't listen to your heart, be rational and think. What kind of future could this lead to?”
That's what his father had told him when he discovered Minhyeong was dating a man.
“I'm so glad you listened to us and settled down, she's such a beautiful lady!”
That's what his mother had said when he introduced them to his girlfriend.
No one gave a shit about how he felt, no one asked if he was okay. And then, so many years later, he sees that familiar face that asks such a simple question.
“Minhyeong, how are you?”
He doesn't remember what he replied, just the way tears fell down his cheeks and how Minseok had caught him when his trembling legs failed him.
Finally someone cared. Finally someone asked how he was. And it could've only been him, of course. No one else would be able to see through the cracks, to poke at the dormant beast and say “hey, it's time to get up”.
“Minhyeong…?”
Minseok's faint voice brings him back to reality. Right, he was in the middle of something.
“Sorry, I-”
Minseok shakes his head with a tiny smile. “It's okay.” he whispers, brings a hand to Minhyeong's cheek and gently wipes away a tear.
A tear? Minhyeong sniffs, not really knowing when he started crying. He takes a deep breath, timidly leaning against Minseok's hand.
“I'm sorry, I got lost in thought.”
Minseok sighs, his tired eyes carrying a hint of sarcastic playfulness. “I think we've both been lost for a while.”
It makes Minhyeong's lips curve into a somewhat melancholic smile. “Do you still want to…?”
“Fuck yes, I'm already here and you're still hard and in my ass.”
Now that makes Minhyeong chuckle. “Language.”
Minseok rolls his eyes. “Like you ever cared how I talk.”
“Well…” Minhyeong started as he moved back from Minseok. He freed his legs from their bent position and instead gently wrapped them around him. “It is true that I didn't date you for your impeccable language and manners.”
He started a new rhythm, gentler this time. Minseok breathed in, finally having a break. He didn't reply though, he felt if he said what he wanted to the conversation would get too… intimate, familiar.
So instead he gestures to Minhyeong to lean closer and gently kisses him. And maybe that's even worse than talking, maybe, but he's never been too good at making short term decisions.
Minhyeong on the other hand struggles with the long term ones, that's why they were a good match, and that's also why they couldn't be together any longer. One of them couldn't wait, and the other waited too long.
“Can I go a little faster?” Minhyeong whispers against his lips, and Minseok nods with what little strength he has left.
It's not how he expected the night to go, it's never been as intimate as this, but… he can't say he hates it. He's lied before, but maybe the biggest one would be saying this isn't what he had been truly longing for.
To have Minhyeong look at him like he's more than just a prey he gets to kill, and for himself to finally see him like the man he used to be and not some hungry beast wanting to devour.
This Minhyeong, the one that asks if he can go faster, the one that looks at him with so much tenderness, this is the man he fell in love with all those years ago.
“Minhyeongie...” He mutters, barely a whisper, just him reminiscing of the past.
But Minhyeong hears it, of course he does. There isn't a single cell in his body that isn't thinking about Minseok, paying attention to his every move.
“Minseokie… please, forgive me.” He speaks weakly, his voice trembling, threatening to break. His thrusts become erratic, his rhythm loses its synch. He knows he's close, and Minseok is too judging by how he bites his lips and his length drools precum all over his stomach.
“I already did, a long time ago…” Minseok says between heavy breaths, the feeling of Minhyeong's dick slamming against his prostate becoming too overwhelming.
Minhyeong's hips shot forward when he heard those words, like a weight had suddenly been lifted off his shoulders. “Y-you mean it?” He asks, eyes sparkling with a renewed life.
Minseok nods, moaning when he parts his lips to speak because Minhyeong doesn't seem to realize he's now thrusting harder into him.
“Fuck- yes… I-I just- I couldn't- I missed you too much…” He manages to say between gasps and broken moans.
“Minseokie, I- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” He apologized again and again, and Minseok felt the tears bursting out from both the emotional and physical overstimulation.
He didn't say more, couldn't, he just pulled Minhyeong in for a kiss. A real one shared between two people that still love each other instead of a predator and its prey.
Minhyeong was sure he was crying too, it was all too much. Both the tightening in his chest and the burning sensation on his crotch, he needed to release it. His hands found Minseok's, fingers intertwining as he pressed them against the mattress. He tried to focus, finding a new rhythm as he gave the final thrusts.
Minseok kept whimpering, moaning his name into each kiss. His whole body trembled when he came, painting his stomach as the orgasm finally hit him. Minhyeong felt the walls around his cock tighten, squeezing him, and that's all it took for him to release inside Minseok with a raspy groan. He clenches his teeth, pressing himself as deep as possible against Minseok's spasming body.
“Shit… are you okay?” He looks down at Minseok, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he regains his breath.
“Uh… y-yeah…?” Minseok looks at him a little dazed, his eyes taking a few extra seconds to focus.
Minhyeong pulls out with a wet sound, and he has to resist the urge to lift Minseok's ass to see his cum leaking out the abused hole. Instead he lays down beside him, his hand reaching for Minseok's and holding it again.
They stay in silence for a while, both looking at the dark ceiling. Eventually it's Minseok who speaks first.
“We can't keep doing this…”
Minhyeong feels that pressure in his chest again. He knows Minseok is right, he can't just continue cheating on his wife forever. But he also can't lie to himself any longer, he's tired.
“Can you give me some time?”
Minseok sighs.
“Time for what? To finally tell your parents you're gay? To stop lying to your family and yourself?”
Minhyeong closes his eyes. Ah, Minseok and his oh so gentle way of saying things…
“I just… I don't want to lose you again.”
Minseok sits up, looks at the man holding his hand.
“I don't want to be your side chick, I'm not a toy. If you can't chose then I'll just g-”
“I'm getting a divorce.”
Minseok's eyes open wide. Minhyeong sits up, letting go of his hand.
“I'm tired of this, of pretending I'm happy when I'm not. I miss the life I had before, I miss my friends, I miss you.”
Minseok follows the movement of his hand, and he gasps when he sees him taking off the golden band around his finger.
“I'm putting an end to this fucking misery I've been trapped in for 20 years.” Minhyeong barks and throws away the ring. It bangs against the floor, losing itself somewhere in the room. Not like Minhyeong cares where it lands.
Instead he looks at Minseok, grabs his hand once again, this time without the weight of the ring bringing him down.
“So… If you'd give me another chance, could you wait for me a little longer?”
Minseok blinks slowly, processing if this is real or if he got so drunk he passed out at the bar and just dreamed it all. And then Minhyeong's finger gently rubs against his hand, drawing a little heart on it, and Minseok just bursts out laughing.
“Minhyeong… When you told me to come back to that same bar next week on the night we met, what did I say?”
Minhyeong smiled. “Alright, but don't get your hopes up big guy.”
Minseok chucked. “When you asked me to be your boyfriend, what did I say?”
Minhyeong shook his head, giggling. “Took you long enough, I thought my hair was gonna turn gray before you ask!”
Minseok smiled harder, intertwining his fingers with Minhyeong's once again. “And when you ask me if I can wait a little longer, what will I say?”
“I-” Minhyeong starts, pausing to take a deep breath. He looks up, his eyes locked with Minseok's. “I'll wait for you, you idiot.”
“Why ask If you still know what I'm gonna say?” Minseok laughs again, and Minhyeong forgets what he was gonna say.
He just looks at the man sitting before him, holding his hands like when they were young, stupid and in love. Not like much has changed, they're still very much stupid and even more in love despite the years.
Though Minhyeong can't seem to see the aging at all, in his eyes Minseok is still Minseok, still the same man he fell in love with when he was seventeen. Same shiny eyes, same mischievous little smile, same stuttering and bad words coming out his mouth.
The only man to ever face the beast, to show it kindness and understanding even when it bit his hand.
Still his Minseokie, then and now, and hopefully forever.