Maybe Jonghyun was sick.

Maybe this was all some dazzling nightmare.

And if it was, did he truly want to wake up?

“Isn’t it beautiful,” Key mumbled into Jonghyun’s neck, the cold night air mingling with the scorching cinders, “don’t you love it?”

The shorter one looked at the wreckage again, feeling sicker as the bridge burned even more, the tiny explosions popping from the car that was causing the asphalt to burn.

“Kibum is this-,”

He was cut off by the younger one’s eager lips, their soft texture pushing against his chapped lips.

“Please Jjong,” he said quietly, snuggling closer, “tell me you love it.”

He looked back up and the scene wasn’t any better; the destruction was clear, there was nothing to love about this sight. It was morbid, it was terrible, sickening, terrifying; Kibum had done this knowing that homeless people lived on that bridge. He’d done this knowing that he was taking people’s lives into his hands. He’d done this with the knowledge that there would only be negative affects to his actions and he didn’t seem at all phased.

He didn’t seem to have any problems with what he’d done, his only issue being the lack of praise.

Jonghyun took a moment to consider this more.

“I love it,” he whispered finally, turning away from the scene while accidently engulfing more of the cloudy air, “you did beautiful.”

These were lies, he knew that.

This was twisted, not stunning. 

This was demented, not ravishing. 

A healthy person would have lost their cool. A healthy person would have turned Key in and hoped for the best. Would have tried to get him the best help available; would have tried to fix what was wrong in Key’s brain.

Jonghyun did none of this; instead he kissed Key’s cheek lightly and ran his fingers down the back of the others’ neck, feeling that familiar purr exit Kibum’s gorgeous pink lips.  

He took in the moment and allowed his lover to shut his conscience up.

He allowed it to make the fact that the man he loved was a homicidal artist, okay.

Key was sick. 

Maybe Jonghyun was sick too.

“I don’t care,” Kibum finally replied, a loud explosion emanating as the bridge collapsed, the flames the night sky as the warmth radiated full blast.

Jonghyun wasn’t surprised when he felt Key’s laughing figure shake his side and he was even less shocked when the other’s pale fingers started to slip into his pants.

This kind of thing turned Kibum on. This kind of chaotic madness, this destruction practically forced Key into heat.

Jonghyun didn’t stop him, he never had before.

Maybe Jonghyun was sick.

He wasn't sure he Cared. 

A/N: Not sure why I wrote this or why it’s so dark or why it is what it is, but here ya go; I was inspired by Icona Pop’s ‘I Love It.’  Thank you for reading this weird little thing. Xoxo