Chapter Text
Jisung’s high heels clicked on the ground; creating some sort of music in his ears while he walked. Tonight is cold, he thought, when he felt the freezing air of November caressing his thighs right under his dress, making him shiver. He mentally thanked his friend Jeongin who introduced, a few years ago, to the tricks of putting anesthetic cream on his legs before going out (might seem a bit barbaric, but it worked.)
Quickly, Jisung stood at the front door; entering the frat house without much ceremony. The first thing he saw was a crowd of young people. At this sight, he sighed, resigned.
“I fucking hate it.” He muttered to himself before, finally, seeking in.
Jisung took one last deep breath before readjusting the bothersome choker he wore; a gift from his best friend Felix, an adorable blond haired boy covered in freckles he met when he was barely a teenager. Jisung tried to make his way through the inebriated bodies, and hissed at the repulsive contact of sweaty and warm young horny adults against him.
“Ji!” someone shouted, making him turn around, “Your dress is so beautiful! Is it new?”
Jisung barely had the time to process who was talking to him; he felt two arms holding him tightly. He got startled, at first, by the unwanted skin contact but quickly relaxed when he recognized his favorite blond-haired. Jisung returned the embrace, kissing slightly the cheek of his best friend before looking at him in the eyes, a sincere smile on his lips.
“Lix!” Jisung beamed while getting away from his best friend, “Yes, it’s new! I got it a few days ago, what do you think about it?”
He started to spin around, the dress floating around him making him feel like some sort of Marylin Monroe.
“You’re so pretty, I swear every guy will fall in love with you.” Felix smiled, “You’re so fucking hot tonight, I particularly love your lipgloss!”
“Thank you, you’re great too!” Jisung stated before asking, “Where are the others?”
“Chan is with Hyunjin and Changbin out there, I heard they looked for something to drink. Seungmin and Jeongin are probably fucking in the restroom.” Felix smiled, “Minho is lost.”
Jisung processed the information with a nod, not surprised Seungmin and Jeongin were having semi-public sex somewhere else considering these two were in some kind of situationship where they were exclusive fuckbuddies.
“I see.” Jisung finally said, “I’m thirsty, should we go get a drink?”
Felix agreed, so they went; having some small talk while every eye was glutted on them (something they were used to, and didn’t notice anymore.)
They arrived in front of the homemade bar, and Jisung took a drink while greeting his friends who were gathered around it. Changbin, the obnoxious one, started by telling him he was pretty, while Hyunjin, the taller one, kissed his cheek as a greeting. Chan smiled at him, asking him how he was going and Jisung answered him with a smile; always thankful of Chan’s motherly nature towards the members of their friends group.
“Look who’s back.” smiled Chan after a while before pointing at Seungmin and Jeongin both walking toward them looking utterly disheveled.
That sight made Jisung giggle before jumping on a table to sit on it, watching his friends teasing the couple that, obviously, just had some nasty sex. Jisung shrugged at that thought; who was he to judge them? They were young and hot, they had no reason to restrain themselves.
“Was it a great time, at least?” Felix ogled at them, “God, that’s some crazy hickey you got there, Minnie.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Seungmin, the so-called ‘Minnie’ protested in a grunt before noticing Jisung replacing the sulky face with a friendly smile, “Ji! How are you?”
“I’m okay, maybe feeling not as good as you but plenty okay.” Jisung gently teased; earning a sigh from Seungmin who fake pouted.
At least, the teasing worked! Jisung glanced over Chan who watched them slightly set back. Yet, he smiled, and the look in his eyes was enough for Jisung to notice all the love and care that man had for them.
“Dude, you need to get laid!” Hyunjin threw to Jisung who got startled at the sudden outburst, “Look at that room full of students, I’m sure you could pull each one of them easily even if they’re straight!”
At that, Jisung rolled his eyes, his painted nails playing on the surface of the table right next to him. He shook his head a few times, his friend smirking at him as if he pulled the funniest joke ever.
Jisung liked Hyunjin (he was most of the time a correct friend, and a repressed bottom if you asked Jisung), but Hyunjin had to be an annoying individual.
What a pity.
“They can only watch, I’m not interested.” Jisung stated, “I’m looking for something more… Entertaining.”
“That whore is attracted to older men!” Felix laughed, taking part of the conversation.
The little group of friends bursted out laughing, making Jisung flustered at the (friendly) banter. Jisung wasn’t exclusively attracted to older men, but his most serious relationships always were with men who were twice his age.
So, well, maybe he was (key word being ‘maybe’).
Suddenly, the funny reunion was cut short by someone, a student, not more than nineteen years old, approaching them blushing furiously, fidgeting with his fingers while avoiding their gazes most of the time. Felix gave a glance to Jisung, to which Jisung mouthed him a ‘shut up’ before listening to the guys’ request.
“I am looking for Jiwon.” the guy uncomfortably said, “She is a dealer.”
Jisung chuckled, playing with his choker as he stared at the boy in front of him, tilting his head a bit. He was a cutie, Jisung thought as licked his lips before getting off the table, readjusting his dress when he got back on his legs, quivering a bit when his high heels touched the ground. He, then, started to walk towards the man, his heels clicking between each step he took.
“I am Jiwon.” Jisung smiled devilishly, “J.One, to be exact. But, Jiwon is great. It’s a pretty name.”
“And he is pretty, isn’t he?” Chan asked the guy from behind them.
The guy looked at him dumbfounded, starting to apologize profusely while Jisung’s friends laughed at the absurd interaction. Obviously, Jisung liked to play with his physical appearance and the ambiguous name to fool his potential customers; because nothing was funnier (according to him) than seeing someone’s face decomposing at the sight of a man all dolled up when they asked for the infamous J.One, the most popular drug dealer in town.
“I-I’m sorry.” the guy struggled to breathe, “Of course he is pretty! I-I mean…” he coughed, “I, well, my friends would like to smoke some weed and someone told me Jiw… J.One was over there and I-”
“Breathe, dude.” Changbin cut him before putting one of his muscular arms around that poor guy's neck (Jisung chuckled at the height difference and how Changbin was almost standing on his toes), “He would like weed, Ji. I’m sure you have some!” Changbin finally helped him.
Jisung nodded, grabbing his purse with one dexterous hand. The young guy finally managed to ask him for a little more than a gram, Jisung executed his demand, giving him for a few bucks.
It wasn’t making a lot, but these parties helped him to get food for the next day which was something at least. Jisung needed money, and it didn’t matter how he earned it; a lesson he was taught early by his mother the first time he saw her come back with a stranger at their family house was that money never had morals. Jisung was only eight.
“He was cute.” chuckled Felix next to Jisung, hitting him slightly with his elbow to give him a not-so-subtle message.
Message Jisung already understood earlier when Felix was ogling at him.
“He got so intimidated by Sungie, it’s so funny!” Changbin said, “He was surprised.”
“I think he got a little horny.” Jeongin shrugged.
Jisung sighed at these allegations, “Can you stop? Damn.”
Felix giggled at Jisung’s reaction, while Jisung drank quietly from his cup while grimacing. The alcohol didn’t taste good, and Jisung learned to hate it, each sip reminding him of his mother coming back drunk at home when he was just a kid. But, he needed to forget. Actually, he ached to forget; and nothing could make him forget more than his own poison.
“Oh my god! Separate them!”
Jisung suddenly heard someone shout, making him drift out of his thoughts while he lifted his head, looking toward the crowd that started to be agitated. Then, in the middle of a ring formed by the people’s bodies, Jisung saw him.
Minho.
Minho was punching some guy he grabbed forcefully by the collar. The guy couldn’t do anything but bear Minho's fists crashing on his face without any interruption.
“He is going to kill him!” someone else shouted.
Jisung noticed Felix trying to find a way through the crowd, screaming some things Jisung couldn’t understand because the whole hubbub was hurting his hearing and made the whole situation hard to understand. Jisung was petrified, and couldn’t get his sight out of the fight, not while Minho was covered by blood that wasn’t even his own (for a short while, Jisung wondered what that guy did to deserve such a treatment.)
Felix, not without struggle, got to Minho saying something before separating him from the poor guy. Minho looked out of himself, wiping sweat out of his forehead with a bloody hand, rage radiating from him while Felix (and Chan who ended up joining them) seemed panicked by the situation.
Jisung shivered, Felix accompanied Minho outside closely followed by Hyunjin and Chan.
“That guy would clearly be rotting in prison if Felix wasn’t here to save his ass every single time,” Seungmin said from next to Jisung’s spot, carefully drinking from his cup.
“Minho is his cousin.” Jeongin stated the obvious, “Of course, he will save his ass. They’re family.”
Jisung shrugged. He didn’t have much opinion about it; while he was Felix’s best friend, he never managed to get that close to Minho even though Chan seemed quite fond of him since he got introduced to their group (as the last member, Jisung may add). Actually, it was more of Minho boring with Jisung’s presence in his life because his cousin explicitly asked him to do so. Jisung stared at them for afar, seeing Minho speaking to Felix while the blonde looked at him with a worried gaze. Minho wasn’t that talkative, Jisung quickly realized when they met. In fact, they never went past the ‘small talk’ kind of relationship. Jisung always guessed it was for the best; the older was cold, arrogant, and most of the time bad news.
“You’re going to end up in detention, Minho!” Chan growled from afar, “It’s fucking serious, you almost killed that guy!”
Minho clicked his tongue before spitting on the floor.
Blood splashed at his feet. Jisung shivered, the odd tremor running through his spine at the sight of Minho all fucked up with blood.
Minho was hot. It was undeniable. And absolutely Jisung’s type. But, the guy was insufferable, and an asshole with basically everyone (but Felix). So, Minho was just for the eyes. Minho’s demeanor created a funny feeling in Jisung’s stomach; Minho looked strong, a strength defined by his muscular stature forged by years of dancing a mutual passion he shared with his cousin (and Jisung couldn’t count the number of times Felix told him it was actually Minho who introduced him to dancing).
“He deserved it,” Minho stated.
“Just tell me what happened, I beg you.” Felix asked with a gentle voice.
The silence that followed seemed to last for an eternity.
“He talked shit about Sullie.” Minho spat carefully, “So, I fucked him up.”
Sullie?
Something switched right away in Felix’s gaze, his eyes becoming even tender and pained at the sole mention of this name. That gentle and protective look was in total contradiction with Minho’s orbs who were dancing flames; ready to burn it all in deep and dark rage.
“Minho…” Felix said, even softer.
“Stop.” Minho snarled before turning around, “They want to call the police. I need to go now.”
Then, Minho took advantage of the messy situation to slip away (which was the better thing to do if he didn’t want trouble with the police.)
“Minho isn’t handling well when people talk badly about Sullie.” Chan sighed, “He tends to be overprotective.”
“It’s understandable.” Hyunjin added.
Jisung frowned while hearing them from afar.
Who the fuck is Sullie?
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
Their little friend group had their own point of reunion; a basement they squatted in the cave of a building. It was where they met after a long and tiring day to lose some steam: they were stray kids, just a bunch of poor and lost young adults. Every one of them was a reject, but each one of them craved love and understanding. That’s how they formed their own found family hidden in the depths of Seoul, in that basement they learned to like more than their own home (because everything was easier when it was eight different people sharing their pain.)
Jisung was sitting on the sofa, the springs hurting a bit his thighs, but he chose to ignore it. In one of his hands, a Vogue cig. On the other hand, his phone.
He watched his surroundings, seeing all of his friends deeply busy doing their own stuff. Some of them took care of their skateboards. Others sang. Chan was focused on producing; a skill he decided to teach to Jisung when he discovered the younger was also passionate about music.
Minho was sitting next to Felix, deep into whatever, and the only sight of him reminded Jisung of the fight he had a few days ago.
Sullie. Jisung reminded.
“Who’s Sullie?” Jisung asked, smoking on his vogue.
Minho lifted his eyes to look at him. At first, his look was curious; as if he was processing the fact that Jisung was addressing him. Then, his gaze hardened the moment he understood the name the younger dared to pronounce.
Jisung noticed his jaw contracting, a sign he was clenching his teeth inside of his mouth.
“Excuse me?” Minho asked carefully, at first.
Jisung stared at him with a hint of defiance.
“Who is Sullie?” Jisung asked for the second time, assured.
Jisung saw Felix starting to be agitated next to Minho, and Chan stared at him with a wide-eyed gaze.
Why was it such a touchy subject? It wasn’t like Jisung had insulted that Sullie! He just wanted to know who they were.
“Sungie, please. It’s not the moment.” Felix tried to dismiss.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Jisung shrugged, “It’s not like you almost killed a guy because of Sullie.” he added, sarcastically, “So, I’m asking; who’s Sullie?”
The moment Minho got up to carefully approach Jisung; the time stopped. Jisung shivered (with fear or anticipation?) when the older one got in front of him. They looked at each other for a while, Jisung swore Minho was staring deep inside his soul.
Nothing mattered, at that moment. Even Felix’s shout and the calm voice of Chan from behind them weren’t that important anymore. Minho’s gaze was so heavy, that Jisung almost moaned out of submission, playing with the tip of his skirt.
Minho suddenly grabbed him by the throat gently, at first, before squeezing stronger and stronger, making Jisung whine in surprise. Eventually, Minho held him so tight he started to struggle to breathe correctly. And, when Minho noticed the struggle; he squeezed even tighter.
Jisung couldn’t breathe properly anymore, trying pathetically to get a little air when all he could come up with was a cough.
Was he going to die?
The fear traveling through Jisung’s body was enough of an answer.
They were still lost in one another's eyes when Jisung noticed something flashing in Minho's gaze. Was it fear? Realization? Or maybe just pity? Jisung still had no answer. The next thing he knew was him falling hard on the floor, coughing pathetically to the point of having gagging reflexes.
“I dare you to talk about her, Han Jisung. I dare you to even pronounce her name.” Minho spat, “Do what you're best at; being pretty and shutting the fuck up.”
So, it’s a she.
Jisung shivered with tears in his eyes, the consequence of coughing too hard, while he watched the older going away from him followed closely by Chan calling his name in an angry tone.
“A-Are you okay, Jisung?” Felix asked, panicked.
Jisung breathed hard still on the floor, tears now falling down his cheeks.
Fuck. Jisung shamefully thought.
“I…” He started, hoarsely, “I’m okay… I guess.”
Jisung got a hold of himself.
What just happened?
Why was it so hot?
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
Jisung breathed hard, the night was cold. He could feel, on his naked legs, the cold air making him shiver for a while. He grabbed his purse, looking for a cigarette; but was met by an empty package making him sigh in frustration.
Jisung isn’t a smoker. Most of the time, he smoked because he thought he looked cool (which was a bit questionable.) Other times, he smoked because it helped him to feel warm. And, these days, Jisung was freezing.
Jisung headed to his apartment where his mother was waiting for him. He got in front of the building, dirty and covered in mold. He opened the front door, the smell of old going to his nose almost immediately making him grimace in disgust. The elevator was, as always, out of service; and Jisung got accustomed to going up the five floors by stairs to meet the front door of his apartment.
He was used to being out of breath in front of the door, clenching the knob of the, already, opened door; meaning his mother was already there.
Where would she be if she wasn’t already there? Jisung laughed, he was being ridiculous.
“I’m home,” he said while taking off his shoes, losing a few centimeters in the process.
Jisung passed his head to see what was happening in the living room. He was greeted with the sight of his mother lying on the sofa, a half-drank bottle of whisky on the coffee table.
She was drunk.
“I am waiting for someone,” she said with difficulty.
And Jisung knew immediately what she was talking about.
His mother continued, “You better stay in your room if you don’t want to do the work.”
The work.
Jisung felt the urge to puke.
So, he just nodded politely without giving her a proper answer, grabbing his belongings before locking himself in his room. At that moment, Jisung wondered why he didn’t go to the basement; he would, obviously, feel better and more welcomed there. But, Jisung recalled the look in Minho’s eyes, grabbing him by the throat before squeezing him so tight it became hard to breathe.
Jisung’s breath got short at that memory and the shameless half-hard underneath his skirt reminded him how turned on he got by being manhandled by the older one.
A wave of guilt traveled through Jisung’s body; was he deranged for being aroused by his best friend’s cousin choking him to death?
Yes. Most probably. But, Minho was hot. And Jisung didn’t have sex for a while. Actually, Minho’s hand on his throat was the first skin contact he had in a while! Maybe Hyunjin was right when he said he needed to get laid, Jisung tried to rationalize. Or, maybe it didn’t mean anything and he was a weirdo for being horny at the sole thought of someone wanting to kill him.
Fuck . Jisung cursed before giving up in a wave of guilt and grabbing the almost finished bottle of lube in his drawers. Jisung sighed, pouring the cold liquid on his fingers before taking off his panties; making them roll on his legs to stay by his feet.
Then, he spread his legs while blushing, still not believing why he was doing it right now; his rim clenching uncontrollably when he looked at himself in the big mirror in front of him. Maybe Minho would like to see it? The first finger entered without any difficulty, the second felt better.
No. Minho wouldn’t. He never looked at Jisung that way. That guy never cared about him, and never seemed to have an ounce of attraction for him.
Jisung bit his lips while watching his reflection getting fucked by his fingers; he tried his best to keep his moaning in his throat (without much success.) After a while, he grabbed his cock with his other hand, fucking himself and thrusting his cock into his hand at the same time.
There was something sinful, a feeling of forbidden, when Jisung fucked himself in front of that mirror, almost muttering Minho’s name even though he never thought about the older one that way before (well, actually, he already did think about him that way because Minho was a fucking living fantasy. Yet, Jisung would never fuck himself thinking about someone from their friend group! It was his second family! The wave of guilt and shame seemed to never leave him.)
“M-Min-” Jisung kept the name in his throat, “Fuck!”
Jisung’s fingers were now crazily thrusting inside, making him quiver with pleasure when he felt it coming. Jisung finally reached his climax; white pleasure now spread all over his skirt and legs. He shivered, still staring at himself in the mirror. He was sexy. He felt sexy. Really sexy, it was hot, but still a shame.
Jisung let his head fall on the wall, taking off his skirt while wiping his cum on the same occasion. The lusty stains didn’t matter, he had the laundry to do later (and it would, probably, feel like a walk of shame.)
That’s when Jisung was cleaning the remains of cum he heard the first moan coming from the living room followed by a few grunts coming from a stranger. It made him shiver in horror.
That’s the work his mother was talking about.
Jisung closed his eyes, letting his head rest on the wall while breathing hard; he despised his life, and the moans even more lustful coming from the living room felt like a humorless reminder of everything Jisung experienced in his life.
Was it a shame having a sex worker as a mother? Jisung would tend to say no; everyone had to survive one way or another.
Was it a shame being used by your mother as a sex worker? Jisung shivered.
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
“J.One?” some guy asked while Jisung was smoking in the backyard, “Do you have something strong?”
Jisung looked up and down at the guy in front of him. He was, most probably, a head taller than him; but, with the help of his high heels, Jisung was almost his height. The guy also looked like the cliché frat boy; handsome and muscular. He radiated confidence, and it showed.
“I have some strong stuff.” Jisung smirked, “Are you even able to handle it?”
The guy laughed, greeting Jisung with his best flirting smile. Jisung was now sure that guy was trying to flirt with him.
“I can handle everything, beautiful.”
The nickname made Jisung shiver in disgust.
“Everything, mh?” Jisung still smirked, “You don’t seem tough enough. It needs true care, someone that’s able to take the lead.”
They clearly weren’t talking about drugs anymore.
“I can do so much more.” the guy almost whispered, making Jisung laugh.
Was that guy begging for a chance?
“And I need a true man.” Jisung chuckled, “So, fuck off.”
The guy groaned.
“Fuck, you can’t reject me!” he tried, “I’m so much better than everything you’ve ever had!”
Suddenly, Jisung felt a hand on his waist startling him. That guy was touching him without permission. Jisung gritted his teeth, pushing the guy back forcefully.
“Asshole!” Jisung spat, “I said no! Leave me alone!”
Jisung saw something switch in that man's eyes, clearly upset with the rejection. Jisung breathed hard, maintaining a dark gaze and keeping a defensive composure.
Jisung went through worse than that, he knew how to defend himself.
“You’ll regret it.” the guy pointed at Jisung, “You fucking disgusting whore.”
Jisung shook his head a bit; wasn’t it funny? That guy coming at him, shamelessly flirting then saying Jisung was the whore for rejecting him when he was, clearly, being the ridiculous one there. Jisung laughed humorlessly while the guy went away with a last murderous glance.
“What happened?” Jisung heard a voice he recognized as Felix’s.
“That fucker wanted to fuck me and couldn’t handle the rejection.” Jisung clicked his tongue, “I’m not even sure he came at me to buy something in the first place.”
“Oh my god he sucks.” Felix groaned, “Are you okay? Did he try something on you?”
Jisung shrugged, “He grabbed me by the waist, but I pushed him off. He didn’t try for more before telling me I’m a whore.”
“He is the whore here!” Felix said, making Jisung laugh.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Jisung grabbed a cigs, “That party sucks, though. And I’m tired. So, I guess I gotta go. Tell everyone I’m gone, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Felix stared at Jisung before grabbing his lighter and giving it to his best friend who thanked him silently while he lit his cigarette on.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Felix asked.
“No. I’m okay. Thank you, anyway.”
Felix kissed Jisung’s cheek as a goodbye while smiling; telling him something about seeing each other tomorrow and to sleep well. Jisung smiled; thankful to have such sunshine as Felix in his life. Felix was the only person Jisung knew who had a functional family (or, as functional as a family could be). Felix's mother was the most adorable person Jisung ever met; and she tended to consider Jisung as her own son (obviously, she would, when Jisung started to spend more time at Felix’s than at his own home, trying to avoid his mother and the numerous strangers she brought home.)
Jisung started to walk home. Today’s sales were great, and Jisung gathered enough money to be comfortable for at least a few days (which was reassuring considering his mother was financially irresponsible).
The walk was long, and the streets were lonely. But the worst wasn’t any of that; Jisung almost cursed out loud when his feet started to hurt. He thought, for a bit, to finish the walk bare feet; but got scared about what could lay on the ground.
That’s when Jisung finished to weigh up the pros and cons he heard a voice from behind him
“I finally caught you.” So, Jisung turned around. Past the surprise, Jisung tried to remain the most stoic possible when he recognized the guy from earlier, accompanied by a few friends. Jisung noticed some of them holding iron bars.
Jisung didn’t need to be a genius to guess he was fucked. Utterly fucked. And he had to quickly do something if he didn’t want to end up beaten up on the cold floor.
“I thought you would, at least, come to sort it out alone.” Jisung giggled before discreetly looking around him for an escape.
“Shut up, whore.” the guy smiled, “You still dare to talk back, mh?”
He approached Jisung, ending up right in front of him before grabbing forcefully Jisung’s face; forcing him to look at him in the eyes, hurting his neck in the process.
Jisung mentally went back to his earlier thoughts; up close, that guy was disgusting and not even slightly hot.
“Get. Lost.” Jisung came back.
“Look who’s being all brave.” the guy laughed.
“Shut the fuck-”
Slap.
Jisung swayed a bit, his hand touching his, now hurting, cheek the guy just slapped forcefully under his friend's crude laugh. Jisung bit his lips, trying to keep his composure while he saw, under the street lamps, the disturbing smile of the frat guy who just assaulted him. But, Jisung didn’t have the time to get away from him; when the guy grabbed him by the hair.
It hurts. Jisung looked at him with a murderous glare.
“Listen to me carefully.” the guy then started, looking at Jisung deep into his eyes, his hand still forcefully grasping his hair, “Here’s what’s going to happen now. I will fuck you on this street. Then my friends will all fuck you too. And if you disagree, then, we’ll beat you up and fuck you anyway.”
Jisung stared at the guy before smiling something almost masochistic, “Fuck. Off.” he said, pronouncing each syllable.
The first hit was the one that hurt the most, Jisung concluded when he ended up on the floor, trying his best to hide his face while four guys were hitting him.
‘My skirt is going to be fucked up’ was, ironically, Jisung’s first thought before wondering if he deserved better than this; and every slur that came out from these guys' mouthes reminded him he was just a filthy crossdresser to them who had nothing else to give but his body, something his mother told him the moment he was of age to understand what sexual encounters were about.
One hand started to touch his skin, making him shiver in disgust; after so many years, it still felt the same, when a stranger was feeling up his skin without his consent; and the unwanted skinship still gave Jisung the urge to puke on the floor.
But, suddenly, nothing.
Nothing at all.
No more touches, no more hands. Nothing. Jisung opened an eye, seeing a guy in a dark hoodie hitting forcefully the instigator while his friends were already running away down the street (quickly followed by Jisung’s main assaulter, maybe too scared the newcomer was an undercover cop.)
Jisung trembled on the floor, not able to see or even understand who helped him and why.
“Fuck, these bastards ran away.” the voice reasoned, “Are you okay?” he asked.
Jisung tried his best to get up; or at least to sit up, noticing his cute top was torn apart by the brutality of the assault while the blood running down his face splashing on the floor created red puddles.
“Who are you?” was Jisung’s first hoarse question, “Is my face okay?” was the second.
The guy chuckled a bit, making Jisung try to open both of his eyes; that guy wasn’t an undercover cop, for sure. After a short while, the guy took off his hood and crouched down in front of Jisung who, even badly enlightened by the street lamps, recognized him immediately.
“Minho…?” Jisung asked, quietly.
Fuck. The last time they met Minho choked him and now he is saving him? It made so little sense that Jisung didn’t even try to understand. Maybe Minho was doing this because of Felix? That was the most logical answer Jisung could come up with.
“You are okay. Your face is okay, just a bit bloody.” Minho said, “Can I touch you? Just to check up. Nothing else.”
Jisung shivered at the request of consent, nodding faintly. But the moment Minho approached his hand, Jisung flinched, closing his eyes with force.
“You’re okay, Jisung.” Minho repeated in an oddly calm and reassuring voice, “I won’t harm you, you don’t have to be scared of me. I just want to check if your nose is broken, are you okay with that?”
Jisung started to open one eye at the gentleness of Minho’s voice; then the second one. Minho was, at the moment, standing in front of him, a glow Jisung couldn’t decipher in his eyes, as if the older one was worried, but also burning with rage at the sight of Jisung’s state.
“Okay. Go on…” Jisung whispered.
Minho nodded, before approaching his hand to feel Jisung’s nose. Jisung noticed the older one tried his best to be the gentlest possible (something he wasn’t used to coming from him.)
“Does it hurt a lot?” Minho asked.
“It’s okay… Bearable.”
Minho shook his head, “It’s great. It doesn’t seem broken.” he, then, sighed to grab a tissue giving it to Jisung.
Jisung took the tissue, wiping off his face the best he could.
“Jump on my back.” Minho finally said, “I’m bringing you back to mine.”
Jisung stared at Minho for a few seconds, before trying with difficulty, “I’m okay. I can walk.”
“You can’t.” Minho said, irritated by Jisung’s nonsense, “Don’t be an idiot. I have a great couch.”
Jisung felt so hopeless he indulged in Minho’s proposition, completely ignoring how, this instant, Minho’s actions felt out of character. Jisung got up with difficulty before jumping on Minho’s back who started to walk carefully.
“Do you know these guys?” Minho asked, referring to the guys who assaulted Jisung earlier.
“The tall one wanted drugs.” Jisung gulped, “But I quickly understood he also wanted to fuck. I rejected him, he couldn’t handle it.”
“What a dick.” Minho spat.
“Yeah.” Jisung whispered, “If you didn’t show up I don’t know…”
Jisung couldn’t continue this sentence, feeling hurt in his chest at the sole thought of what could’ve happened to him if Minho wasn’t, miraculously, here at that moment.
“Don’t overthink about it.” Minho said coldly, “I was there. You are okay. You did nothing wrong.”
Jisung let his head rest on Minho’s shoulder before answering, “Yeah… I guess.”
Jisung had so many more questions to ask Minho; what was he doing here, why did he help him when he hated him a few days ago, why was he being so gentle? But, nothing came out, as Minho’s perfume looked, at that moment, like the sweetest lullaby to Jisung who closed his eyes to fall into slumber.
Minho’s apartment was nice; Jisung first noticed. A few pictures were hanging on the wall, and Jisung quickly recognized Felix and his mother smiling next to Minho who pouted a bit. Jisung chuckled a bit at that sight, making him cough because of the pain.
“Don’t move.” Minho said a little cold while Jisung was sitting on his couch, “I’m coming back.”
So, Jisung did, not trying to guess who the other various persons standing on Minho’s walls were; Jisung wondered if Minho was a family guy (which would seem weird coming from him; Jisung knew Minho for a few years, and, even if Felix always told him his cousin wasn’t that bad, Jisung always depicted him as the biggest dickhead ever who wasn’t able to feel any emotion.)
“Here.” Minho said with a first aid case in his hands, “Stay still. It may hurt a bit.”
It did hurt a bit when Minho put some ointment on Jisung’s cheek; but Jisung sucked it up, it wasn’t worse than getting beat up on the ground by four horny homophobic frat boys (Jisung tried to mentally joke it off.)
“Are you hurting anywhere else?” Minho finally asked.
“I’m okay.” Jisung nodded, “Thank you.”
They stared at each other for a bit, Jisung getting lost in Minho’s dark and profound orbs. Jisung always considered Minho’s eyes as something scary, something he would never venture himself into. But, when he watched them closely, Jisung almost noticed the shine in them he perceived a few times already; earlier today, and the day Minho choked him. Minho was, clearly, something more than what he was willing to show.
“No need to thank me.” Minho said while throwing a pile of clothes next to Jisung, “It doesn’t fit me anymore but I guess you’ll find something to sleep into.” then, he pointed to a blanket, “You can take it. I’ll probably be gone early in the morning. Just slam the door.”
Next, Minho was gone; leaving Jisung alone in his living room, sitting on the convertible couch he had already settled as a bed for Jisung a bit earlier. That night, Jisung struggled to fall asleep; everything he could think about was dark orbs slightly shining something gentle the moment they stared at him.
The next morning, when Jisung woke up Minho was, indeed, not here; and Jisung quickly guessed the older one was at work. Jisung didn’t venture more into Minho’s house; simply following the indications the older gave him the prior night: slam the door.
Jisung wondered if he should leave a note or something to thank Minho; but quickly came to the conclusion running away from Minho’s hospitality was the most adequate reaction (it wasn’t like he was friend with him, their relationship was barely cordial and Jisung couldn’t see himself creating ceremonies around the fact the older one saved him.)
So, Jisung slammed the door.
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
“What happened to your face?” asked Chan two days later, when Jisung was finally willing to show himself as he considered his face wasn’t too swollen anymore.
Jisung sat on the sofa, grabbing a cigarette he put in between his lips while staring at Chan. He could dodge the question easily; Chan knew Jisung had a dangerous job, and fights happen all the time. But, Jisung didn’t have the heart to lie; not when everyone noticed he tried to hide his bloated face behind a shit ton of makeup (and it didn’t work, but Jisung needed to go to the basement today; because his mother was becoming insufferable, and he needed to breathe.)
“I got beat up. A guy I pissed off found me.” Jisung half lied; not telling the entire traumatic experience, but saying enough to not be considered a shitty liar.
His friends didn’t need to know he got sexually assaulted in the middle of the night by a revengeful guy and his friends.
“What?” Felix gasped, “Ji, are you okay?”
Jisung shrugged at the concern; he was okay. Mostly okay. If Minho hadn’t (magically) been here that night, things could have ended up in a catastrophe. But it didn’t.
It almost did, but it didn’t.
Jisung shivered at the thought of a foreign touch on his skin, making him want to throw up on the spot. He secretly took a deep breath, trying to rationalize things; he was okay.
“I’m good.” he said, coolly, “Shit happens all the time.” he finally brushed it off.
His friends didn’t ask for more, Chan nodded before talking to Jeongin about something Jisung had no clue about. Jisung was thankful; he didn’t need the concern. He didn’t need to be reminded when everything already reminded him.
Jisung sighed, getting up under the sad (and kind of oblivious) look in Felix’s eyes. But, the younger one didn't say anything more. He didn’t even try to follow Jisung; not when he found an excuse to go outside. Something about going to the Konbini to grab some alcohol he wanted to drink tonight. And everyone believed him; why wouldn’t they? Jisung was kind of a loner (always was).
“Why did you lie?” Minho asked from behind Jisung when he got out, and Jisung wasn’t surprised the older one dared to follow him outside.
“I didn’t lie.” Jisung said, scratching his cig on the floor, “I just didn’t tell the whole truth.”
Jisung turned around, meeting Minho’s deep and enigmatic orbs.
“Don’t play with words, Jisung.” Minho came back, colder than what Jisung expected.
Jisung half-laughed, “Why would I tell them? I don’t even know how to handle it myself, wouldn’t I be a monster to involve my friends in something I can’t even manage?”
Honestly, Jisung wondered why he got so sincere with Minho when he didn’t even trust him in the first place. But something about (somehow) trauma dumping the older one sounded good at that moment; because Minho was being pushy while Jisung was lost.
“You almost got sexually assaulted,” Minho said matter-of-factly as if his words were casual conversation.
Jisung gulped at the bold statement. It was even more painful hearing it from somebody else's mouth; but the truth cut deep like a blade, and Jisung couldn’t even answer, so Minho continued.
“You shouldn’t be ashamed of being a victim.” and it sounded almost funny coming so coldly from Minho’s mouth, “The shame is on their side.”
Jisung shivered, again.
“Isn’t it easy to say?” Jisung laughed bitterly, “I’ve put on all-nighters for years trying to get rid of that weight but nothing ever worked.”
Something flashed in Minho’s eyes; as if he understood what Jisung implied. As if he understood everything on the spot; and Jisung felt like he was totally naked in front of Minho’s sharp gaze.
So, Minho started, “You’re okay, Jisung.”
And Jisung came back, “I’m not.”
The silence following was heavy. Minho approached Jisung slowly, just enough to be in Jisung’s zone without crossing any boundaries. Then, he put one of his hands on the top of Jisung’s head; and the younger felt so petite he had to mentally check if he wore heels (and was towering Minho by a few inches.)
“Then, you’re doing great.” Minho finally said, pressing a bit on Jisung’s head with his palm before turning around, “I want soju. Bring back soju.” he casually changed the subject of the discussion.
Jisung mentally thanked Minho for now being back to him, as he felt deadly tears coming up to his eyes.
“Fuck off,” Jisung answered at the soju request.
Minho just laughed at Jisung’s words and came back inside the room all of their friends were in.
Later, Jisung came back with soju.