hi! yup, i brought this back, but this time with an intention to finish this. xD purapupurr, as promised. there will be a total of 4 chapters; and the remaining chapters will be just as long. my obe is about to start in, like, a week. so, the next chapter will only come after 15th july. until then.

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chapter one: summer

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Jongin knew long before he had seen the scorn that the outcome of this arrangement might not be what the only son of Oh couple wanted. Not that he had expected anything else, for people all his life had made it pretty obvious that handling him was not as easy his family claimed. Jongin could not blame them; for handling a crippled man who was much more genius than them could actually be a little headache. Plus, Jongin was guilty of having an attitude, but God bless his own soul, he could not understand why people could not understand his sarcasm. He thought of his family business, and then reminded himself that it was him who had brought the Kims to this stage of life, a stage where they were multi billionaires. Respected by all, not just for their position in the society, but also because of their philanthropy and business ethics.

Jongin was only 18 when he worked to improve the situation of their family business. He was tired of their family's growing concerns over their future, and he was tired of not doing anything in his life. So, he took the first go, and learnt whatever there was to know about business, its workings, and its impacts since his 16th summer. It took some time to come into effect, but by the time he was near 20, his family had already reached that height of success that his parents and older brother only dreamt of.

Stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, the least he could do was make lives better, starting from his own family. Forget the amount of stress, distress, and depression that came with his crippled life; forget the amount of scorns he received from his own family--forget every bad thing, but remember how it was Jongin who turned out to be his family's saving grace and not their eldest son, Heechul. Their parents had probably expected Heechul to be the one to help them out, but Jongin often wondered how a man who whored himself out to every woman he came across could do anything good in life. If Heechul were his own son, he would have kicked him out of his home. No questions asked.

By the time he turned 21, the family had already grabbed a lot of attention, and Jongin was more on the covers of the pages than his older brother. If that amount of attention on him irked his family, Jongin did not care. If they'd say anything to him, he would flip them off. He got more interviews than his family did, got more fans than one could count, and finally became a favorite of uncountable columns for his incomparable beauty and grace. Asia's First Love, they called him that. Huh. He had a separate loyal fanbase, and it was his favourite--for he, at the end of the day, was a man in his early twenties stuck on a wheelchair, and an inspiration to people of disabilities that if there was a limit, it was straight out, shoot out, sky.

After all this time, Jongin had every right to have an attitude, even if it was to hide that little scared kitten in him. Jongin did not consider himself strong, nor powerful--he was meek. Though only in solitude. He was alone. Though only in solitude. He was in pain. He was suffering. He had new scars every other day. He cried. He sobbed. Though only in solitude. The world had forgotten the youngest member of the Kim family was just another human, and Jongin did too during the days--however, it were the nights that were hard to get by. It was the nights that showed Jongin that he, at the end of the day, was just alone.

It was these late night vulnerabilities that made Jongin want to have a life where he would not need to pretend every second of his day. It was also this vulnerability that Jongin hated. Disliked. Despised. So, perhaps, he might have said yes when he heard about Oh Sehun. Not because the man was handsome--for even though he was handsome, his company was loaded with debts of millions of dollars. So, it was of no point. For Jongin, it was the talent, charm, and genius--ness that floored him, and not a face. Not really. Because Sehun was handsome. Undeniably. However, it was not the face.

However, he said yes because he could not say no. If you thought it was something big and something huge for Jongin to accept the proposal, you were dead wrong. Jongin had to say yes because his family wanted him out of their lives and in someone else's responsibility. See, if you were unlucky, you would find snakes in your own family. They had left him with no choice; with his mother's dramatic emotional torture, and his father's scornful remarks about how Jongin could do one thing in his life to help them, and that was to marry Sehun and leave them be.

Hated. Forgotten. Unwanted after use. Right after saving their sorry asses. Yup. Jongin had seen it all. Yup. Jongin had been through all.

So, it was not a great deal of surprise for him to see the expression on Sehun's face. However, expecting something to happen and for it to actually happen were two different things; Sehun's lack of kindness showed him right away that a new war was going to start for him. The first was with his own family, and the second would be with his future husband.

Great. Really. Jongin was hella excited for everything that was to come his way, and he thought he could throw a Jacuzzi party right away.

However, Jongin's distaste for the man came from an entirely different reason. Sehun was a failed entrepreneur. Failed. A failed one. He failed in bringing his own family to a height. The Oh family at business, and they almost had nothing left there, and that was why his family wanted Jongin to go in that family. A family with no hope, less amount of money, an alcoholic son who would soon become Jongin's husband, and the older Oh couple. He was also sure that his family had probably signed billions of dollars of deal with the Ohs', and thus made sure that Jongin's life would not be entirely painful and full of suffering. If his story was not the most glamorous riches to rags story, Jongin did not know whose else could be.

However, even after all this, this Oh Sehun had the audacity to scorn at him. Him. At Jongin. Not that Jongin could not understand the stem of the jealousy and hatred, for not everyone could go and turn their business from nothing to a whole lot of everything in less than five years. But, he could not understand why Sehun would not get on his knees and beg Jongin to tell him all there was to know about a successful business. Besides, Jongin had a habit to rub that in people's faces. So, they should not be entirely blamed for their distaste of Jongin.

Jongin shrugged at Jung, their family butler; the man who seemed more father to him than his own father, and the man who always seemed more like a family than his own family. Jongin had found a safety in Jung that he could not find in any one, and perhaps it was the expression on Jung's face that Jongin knew he could not bull his way out of this. He looked away before Jung could see the vulnerability in his eyes, not that he had not already seen it. Jongin hated vulnerability. Vulnerability was for the weak, and in a world as cruel and unforgiving as theirs, Jongin could not risk being weak.

He swallowed and nodded along to the terms and conditions of the upcoming martial relationship in their families, but did not really pay attention to what they were saying. Or they said. Jongin was not sure if the families were still talking about the marriage. When he caught Sehun's eyes on him, he jerked his chin at him, a silent and cocky 'hello'. Sehun scoffed and looked away, perhaps too ashamed to admit that Jongin, younger and physically weaker, could be so much more powerful and successful than him. Jongin was not sure if Sehun was even thinking the same, but it was not like he was not going to think anything else than his aforementioned thought.

***

"Want some Château d'Yquem? One of the most expensive out there. They are expensive. Made only for those who can afford it. Of course." He grinned cockily, nudging the little glass Sehun's way.

Sehun clenched his jaw but remained silent.

Jongin sighed, annoyed. "God. Enjoy. You are going to get married in, like, a week. With me."

"Should I not mourn my life now, though?"

"You really don't want to do this, do you?" He asked. "Look, neither do I want to. It was our families who decided this, alright. So stop being an to me."

"I am sure. You want your easy life back. Men, and then more men."

He blinked, amused. "Hey! You cannot bring my tiness in this conversation. That's not the--"

"Seriously, Jongin. Shut up." The man huffed and looked up at the sky, as if begging the God for answers that he might never find in Jongin. "Seriously, shut up." He snapped when Jongin opened his mouth to speak again. However, Jongin could not believe the audacity of this man; he was at Jongin's place, and was acting like he owned the place.

Jongin huffed, and then rolled his eyes. "At least your parents like me."

"They do, and isn't that absolute bull?" The man snarked. Jongin raised an eyebrow at him, confused but just not so. "I would like to believe it's because of the money. Though, though it's strange because I know it is not."

Jongin pressed the cool glass against his cheek, and eyed his future husband with boredom. "Jung said that, too. He is a very observant man."

"I just don't want to be tied down. Take care of a complete stranger. Especially when this stranger gets pregnant with my child. Seriously."

"Don't be a kid. You are older than me by eight years." Jongin tsked. "The person who should whine is me. Besides, it's not like you have a lover." He paid attention to the change in the man's expression, however, there was none. "Do you?"

"I don't need a lover to not want this arrangement, Jongin. Just, just look at yourself." He pointed to Jongin's legs.

Jongin almost reeled back in his shock at the blatant rudeness. He could not believe that a man as young and educated as Sehun could say things like that, so easily. As if Jongin's emotions mattered not. Jongin was pissed off.

"How much dowry did they give you to agree to marry me? Exactly how much money was needed to agree to this?"

The man's jaw clenched tight. "What is wrong--"

"Oh, I am pretty sure I made you rich like never before. Well, I could not think past the billion dollars deal that our parents signed to sign me off. To you. A failed entrepreneur."

The man scoffed. "God, you really think the world of yourself, don't you?"

"Well, since it's not exactly easy for me to travel around the world, the least that I can do is that."

Sehun gave a harsh laugh, his eyes red with the angry tears. "I ing hate my parents for doing this to me. Get married to an like you, then get this pregnant so that we could have little heirs for the company. Yeah, my life."

"But, I like to believe I am the best deal out there is."

Sehun stood up, his expression hard and unforgiving. "Best deal? Oh please, don't flatter yourself. Jongin, just look at yourself. If my friends ever pity me for marrying you, I would understand. I don't want to mean this, Jongin, in case we become friends later in life. But, you sound difficult to me now. How would I ever get used to having you around my house all the damn time?"

Jongin snapped his mouth shut, again taken aback by the cruel words. However, not to be outdone, he snarked back. His voice wavered a little, but he was not sure if Sehun noticed. "That's what you get when you are greedy as hell."

Sehun remained silent and left without another look at him. Jongin watched him go, and did not allow the crack in his expression. However, minutes later when he found himself alone, he looked away and at the setting sun.

Difficult. Wow. Jongin was truly impressed, for that was perhaps the first time someone used that adjective to define him.

Yeah, right. So, this was what he was going to hear at Sehun's place for the rest of his life? Great.

He placed a hand on the flat of his tummy. "They did not even tell you I can not get pregnant. Wow, really. They really want me out so bad."

"He did not mean that, sir," someone said. Jongin snapped his eyes up to see Sehun's personal assistant standing in front of him. "Sir has, ah, a rather dry life. Dry humour. Dry nature. However, he does not mean anything that he says, uh, I mean the bad things. I mean, you would believe that, too, when you would marry him."

"I am sure he pays you a lot to say that." He smiled, all teeth and bite.

The woman nodded awkwardly and left. Jongin's smile dropped immediately, and he looked away at the sky once again. He swallowed around the bile in his throat, and then waited for a few more minutes for his butler. He did not think he could do this. He was far less ready for what was to come than he thought.

Jung. Jongin had known Jung since his first memory; kind eyes and just as kind smiles. His earliest memory was of Jung holding him in his arms, close to his where the little life in him felt the life in the man. He could not understand anything, for he was a baby, but kindness and love never needed a language, and the two year of him understood that better than many. Jung loved him more than he loved his older brother, and hey, did not that say a lot about Heechul. His earliest memory of Heechul was of his brother stealing his toys from right under his nose; his earliest memory of his mother was her growing concern over the market; and his first memory of his father was the angry snarl that Jongin to this day could not forget.

When Jongin had reached the tender age of twelve, and lost everything to a little incident that cost him everything, it was Jung who helped him out. It was Jung who saved him that day, and perhaps Jongin owed everything that he earned and did to this man who he loved more than his own family. Jongin decided then, at the first thought of the butler, that he was bringing Jung with him to his new home. He did not think he could do anything without him, much less navigate in a completely different world than his own.

"Ah, I wonder how you would ever function without this old man."

Jongin blinked and looked up to find Jung smiling warmly at him. It was just this simple, kind smile that took away all the tensions from his body and left it bereft of anything negative. He grinned toothily, like a babe.

"He is worse than I imagined," he admitted, and then scrunched his nose to appear smaller, and more innocent. Not that it would work on Jung; the older man knew him like the back of his hand.

"Cruel with his words, eh?" Jung asked, kindly. Jongin nodded at him, a pout heavy on his mouth. "Not that I do not understand you, Jongin. But, it was you who left everything in their hands. Look where they have brought you, my little darling." The man sat beside him, on the little cushioned chair that once was Jongin's favourite--well, before, when he did not need a wheelchair. "I knew their intentions long before this."

"Why did you not warn me?"

"Would it have worked?" The man asked, gently. "It would not have, Jongin, for you love these people despite everything. People who know when to misuse kindness, Jongin--"

"I do not want to talk about it."

The man sighed. "What is troubling your precious mind?"

"A lot," he replied, honestly. "However, I was thinking you should come with me? After the wedding."

"I cannot, Jongin."

"You love me then why can you not?"

"I have signed my whole life in service to your parents, Jongin. My only way of freedom is death."

Jongin swallowed, and kept his eyes down. Not that he had not expected this answer; he knew about Jung's contract with his parents, and of the debts that Jung's family owed to his family. He knew about it all. However, that did not mean he was not disappointed. He had every right to be disappointed.

Jung seemed to understand the gloom. "You don't want to marry, you say it. Jongin. Say no. If you do not want to."

"I don't have a choice."

"It is not about choice, Jongin!" The man shrieked, losing his well mannered composure for a second. "It is about your life. Here you are, at this stage of life where if you want, you can easily take it back. The company, you can take it back right now. You don't have to bend to their rules, Jongin. You have suffered enough as it is--"

"I don't want to stay here."

That silenced the older man.

"I am pretty sure life with Sehun would not be much better, if not worse. But, at least it would be different. New. Challenging."

The man sighed and stood up. "If that is what you wish, go along with it. It is the celebration."

Jongin did not need to think deeply to know there was sarcasm in the words. That in itself brought a smile on his pouty mouth.

***

Summer was hot. It was lazy, sweaty, hazy, and sunny. Jongin could not understand the stickiness that came with summer, that irritating itch on the skin, and under it, as soon as the sun appeared; as if present only to provide discomfort to those living under it. Jongin hated summer afternoons, specifically. Not the whole summer, but the annoying afternoon dizziness, and the thirst that could not be satisfied however hard you try. The thirst that could not be quenched. With heat as oppressive as the society itself.

However, it was the evenings that brought the true beauty of summer out. It was cool, less oppressive and more opening, as if it welcomed you into a different sphere of life before the cycle would repeat itself. The setting sun and its glare relaxed the thirst in the core of your existence, and the gentle hold the cool would take upon the ambience. The blowing wind, though still a little hot would welcome you as if tired of the hotness itself.

Jongin had always considered himself a little friend of summer, though not a lover, however, this summer was different. This summer was supposed to be different, and it was different, too. Jongin hated this change, however much it announced the season of celebration: the wedding of Oh Sehun and Kim Jongin. Actually, make that Kim Jongin and Oh Sehun. Jongin was far ahead of Sehun, and he would like to remain so. Thank you very much.

So, it was a summer of celebration. Of ebullience.

Or, at least their families and media claimed so. Nevermind what Jongin and Sehun thought and felt about the whole arrangement. Since he had upset the family butler, his Jung, the man acted as if nothing could make him happier than giving away Jongin to an alcoholic, loser businessman that went with the name Sehun. Of course, the person he loved and respected the most would show him the sass.

He rolled his eyes, and watched with dizzy fondness at his own beauty in the reflection. Jongin considered himself beautiful, and had no qualms about keeping this fact to himself--however, however now that he noticed the light bags under his eyes and the little face that he adored so much, he doubted himself. He wondered if he was actually as beautiful as he liked to believe. Not that Jongin doubted himself often, but this day was huge. It was the day he wanted to be different than any day of his life. Whatever had become of it, Jongin did not think. However, the more he looked at himself, the more he noticed the vulnerability and innocence left in his eyes and his face; his wide and bright eyes, the little nose, the little baby fat on cheeks, and, of course, his pouty mouth.

He sighed, and then snapped his head when the door opened with a little bang. His brother. Of course. It was his absence he was missing, he thought sarcastically.

"Are you still wondering if you are drop dead gorgeous or not? 'cause believe me, you are. If you were not my brother, I would have taken you my wife."

Jongin knew Heechul was just trying to piss him, and it pissed him off because it was actually working. " off."

Heechul smirked and leaned heavily against the door of the room. He had closed it, Jongin only noticed now. "Well, look at the attitude. Of course, you are going to be someone else's wife, Jongin-ah. Give him pretty babies, will you?"

" off, I said."

"So, my baby brother does not want to marry this guy?"

"Heechul--"

"You know if you had not seduced my friend, mom and dad would not be marrying you off." Heechul snarled, hands fisted.

"You know what happened!" He shrieked, teary eyed. To this day he could not understand why his family would not understand and believe him. "He ing--"

The door opened just then, and Sehun and Jung appeared behind it, smiling widely as if they had some secret conversation between them; of course, the smile on Sehun's face was too strained to be considered any real by any of them. However, Jongin noticed the hardened glare in Jung's eyes, the one reserved for Heechul, and he thought--this old man would never leave me alone, even in his absence. The thought was enough to soothe his agitated nerves. After his appearance, Jongin paid no mind to Heechul.

"They are waiting for us. On the aisle." Sehun explained, looking at Heechul but words directed at Jongin.

"Sure. Jongin is just excited. I, as his older brother, wanted to see the last minutes of his bachelor life."

"Ha ha," Sehun replied, bored. Jongin found that amusing enough that he did not understand why Sehun would stalk him with all his six feet hulking self. "Let's go, shall we?" Jongin quirked an eyebrow, not understanding the change in tone. However, Sehun gave him no time, and with quick sweeps of his hands, neatly grabbed him behind his knees and shoulders to carry him, bridal style. What the . "People want to see me being gentle with you. I can do that," he whispered, just so that Jongin could hear. "It's not hard to keep you in my arms, with how light you are," he said, louder, for the other occupants to hear. He turned and looked at Heechul. "He is as light as a feather."

"He says he is on diet," Heechul explained, his smile pressed into a thin line. When Sehun passed by him, Heechul grabbed his bicep, hold tight around the limb so that even Jongin could feel the tension. However, he was too annoyed with the insult that Sehun brought with him for him to pay attention to the glare Sehun passed his older brother. "Take care of him, eh? He is my little baby. Would not want to whoop the of a grown man."

Jongin rolled his eyes. Look at his older brother, acting as if he actually cared what would happen to Jongin.

"Better than you ever did, yes." Sehun snarked, the tone so different than he had ever used. Jongin could not understand the change in his person, however he thought it could be because the media was out, and they all needed to be on their best behavior lest they wanted to become targets of pathetic gossip columns. Uncalled attention that would bore and frustrate almost everyone on this planet. "Now, if you excuse us we have to attend a wedding. Our wedding."

Heechul brought his hand back and raised his arms in surrender, eyebrows raised at Sehun. "I think you think me a fool, Sehun."

"I don't think so," Sehun answered, an attractive, Jongin admitted, clench in his jaw. "I believe so."

"Waoh," Jongin exclaimed when Sehun stepped out of the room, still carrying him in his arms as if he weighed nothing. Really, that was y, but Jongin was not to be distracted by something as mundane as someone's iness. Jongin had come across many y men in his life, had slept with many of them, and constantly stayed in the presence of one: his own. "What is this all about?"

"I don't like your brother," Sehun answered, "you are an , sure, but your brother is a bigger . And pathetic."

"Good for you, but I did not ask about that. I asked what is this all about?" He wiggled a little in Sehun's arms to accentuate what he was hinting at. "What is this all about?"

Sehun came to a standstill. "This is not a change of heart, if you are wondering if it's one. You cannot stand, and my parents want to see me being kind to you. That's it. Nothing else."

"You will bring up my inability to walk in every conversation?"

"I think I can justify that I am not completely used to the thought that my soon to be husband cannot walk." He looked down at Jongin before resuming the remaining steps towards the banquet. "You are completely dependent on me from now on, Jongin. I am not used to that idea. I have to get used to the idea that a grown man is my responsibility now."

Jongin snapped his mouth shut, upset by the man's words. "You are so--"

"We have reached, darlin'," Sehun announced, tone a little sarcastic, looking down once again before kicking open the door.

Though the roar of the present crowd was loud and almost cherry, Jongin could not help but feel dead inside. Tired. Exhausted. And definitely looking for an escape. However, as realistic he always was, he knew that this escape might never come for him. Nevermind, Jongin knew how to adjust to new, unpredictable situations.

***

The car rolled to a stop. Jongin stayed rooted on his seat, and refused to budge even when Sehun slipped out of the car and waited for him on the other end. The whole occasion took less than four hours; within a few minutes, he had signed himself to the Oh family, and had become Oh Jongin. Within those minutes, he thought he lost his identity, and everything that he knew of himself. Sure, Jongin believed that he did not need much help assimilating to a new environment, however, this was something big. Something huge. The longer he stayed seated, the faster he wondered how easily he let everything slip out of his fingers. Jung was right, he could have said no, he did not need to give everything in the hands of his family.

He swallowed.

Sehun knocked at his side of the window before opening the door himself when he refused to look up. "I have been waiting for five minutes, Jongin. Can't you come out? I believe we both are tired."

"Yeah, I will come later, I guess."

"Later?" Sehun questioned. "How?"

He snapped his head up at the man--his ing husband. "Listen, I have my wheelchair with me. I know how to wheel it--"

"Yeah, I am sure. But, there are stairs. You cannot use your wheelchair on stairs, can you?"

Jongin looked behind Sehun's shoulder and then only noticed the high-rise building. He looked down into Sehun's tired eyes, wondering what kind of joke was that. "Don't tell me we're going to live here."

"For some time, yes. The new home is under construction, we can't go there now. We will have to stay here for almost two weeks."

"I-I cannot! I cannot do that. I will be trapped there."

"I can't do anything about it," Sehun said, tiredly though his voice was still firm and broke no argument. "It's just about two weeks. Don't be a child."

"Well, I will be a goddamn child!"

"Jongin," Sehun hissed. "Can you not show your whiny self here? I told you it's just about two weeks. We will have a home where you won't need my assistance to do basic things. Until then, you will have to adjust. Just two ing weeks."

Sehun did not wait for a reply, and quickly grabbed him the similar way he did before the wedding before shutting the door with a kick. A valet came, and Sehun tipped him a generous amount. "I am sorry, alright," Sehun said, when they were in the lift and alone, and Jongin was painfully silent. "I have paid the workers a lot of money just so they work faster. I even have over hundred workers working on it at the same time. It will be over in two weeks."

Jongin remained silent.

Sehun sighed, and quickly stepped out of the elevator when it came to a stop. Jongin kept his eyes low, and did not bother looking around the gallery or which room Sehun was bringing him to. "It's a penthouse, so, you know, it's big and all. You can move and all without--"

"Thanks. Now, I would like to know where my bedroom is. My bedroom."

Sehun simply brought him into a room and dumped him gracelessly on the bed. He was probably exhausted already, perhaps because of Jongin or because of the long hours at the wedding and social interactions. "Look, don't show me that attitude, alright. You should be thankful that I even--"

"I would like to sleep. If you will leave me alone."

"I think we need to talk."

"I don't need to talk to you!" He snapped, looking up at the man. "I don't ing like this, alright. I just don't. You don't understand my problems."

"Well, I said it's only for two weeks."

"Sit on a goddamn wheelchair for two weeks, and roam around this place to get by while I go and do the job. Then we'll talk about this, okay?"

Sehun swallowed and looked away. "Look, I--"

"Kindly, off."

"God, you really are a whiny ."

"Right, and you are a goddamn er."

Sehun's jaw clicked and for a moment, Jongin feared the strength in the man's body, something that he could not stand against even in his dreams. "You are to say that."

"Well, my situation does not allow me to . So, there's that, er."

Sehun's eyes blazed red, but he took a step back anyway. "Good for you, stay here and get by."

Jongin pressed his lips in a thin line, but stayed alert at any sound that came from the other side of the door. Sehun was intentionally (and unnecessarily) banging the doors, as if showing his frustration to no one in particular but directed at Jongin anyway. However, Jongin couldn't care less about what he was doing there right now. He was frustrated, and Heechul was texting him non stop, and that frustrated him more. His older brother could not leave him alone even now.

When his phone rang, he switched off his phone and fell back on the cotton-y bed, and sighed at the little yawn that came out of his soul. Sehun's frustration did not seem to end, Jongin noticed. The alcoholic probably needed alcohol right now. , Jongin thought, my husband is a true . Husband. . Really. Jongin could not believe, only now, how a little 'yes' from him had changed everything about his life.

He was no more at home, the only place he was familiar with, and he no more knew what was to come the next morning. All he knew right now was how bone deep tired he felt, that, and how much he wanted to punch Sehun on his perfect teeth for doing this to him. Only now Jongin wondered why he ever agreed to this arrangement and despite being an undeniable genius in strategy, did not think past that moment where the priest officially signed them off as spouses. He believed he was ready, in fact, he had everything planned out. However now, Jongin wondered if it were all a coping mechanism to deal with something he knew would not work no matter how hard he tried.

He swallowed around the bile in his throat and then rubbed a hand over his eyes. It came out wet. Of course, it did. The only thing now left was to cry his heart out. He could not, though, for he worried that Sehun might hear him and that was the last thing he wanted; the unwarranted pity. He grabbed his phone and switched it back on, and right away called Jung. He thought he could use a fatherly voice. The man picked up by the second ring, and sounded worried. As always. For him. Jongin liked to believe Jung cared about him more than his family did. Not that he ever doubted the fact, but it still left a twinge of disappointment behind that his family could not look past the prejudices and at him. At Jongin. At Nini as he had been called in his childhood.

"Tell me you are alright. Do I need to come there and whoop his ?"

"No," he answered, smiling a little into the phone, "just called to tell you it feels surreal."

"You will get used to it, Jongin," the older man replied, "not that you have to, if you ever feel like something is not right, leave."

"Tell me how everyone's doing?"

The older man took some time to reply. However, when he did, Jongin was not surprised to hear it. Though, as always, he was disappointed. "They are celebrating, all of them." There was bitterness in his tone, as if he could not disapprove of anything more. "I wish I had come with you, my child, for serving you sounds far better than serving your family. It does not matter how much of a brat you are."

"Hey!" He said, dramatically offended. "I did not expect you to call me that. I am a grown up man, and I think I have grown past the age to be called that."

"I am sure you would like to be called such by your husband."

"Oh my god," he groaned at the teasing tone. "You are going to make all these married couple jokes, no?"

"I always wanted to see you married, Jongin. However much the circumstances are different than I imagined them to be, it's undeniable that you are married. So, yes, I am. Let this old man have fun for as long as he is alive."

He snapped his mouth shut. "We do not talk about that."

The older man sighed. "Alright, we do not talk about that." Then, in a kinder tone, "tell me everything is fine, Jongin. Has he troubled you? Has he hurt you?"

"No, nothing of that kind. We just, uh, had a disagreement."

"It's only your first night together. What did he do?"

"He doesn't have a home of his, yet. So, he brought me to a penthouse, and we'll have to live here for the next two weeks."

"Jongin," the man sighed, "it's okay to expect things from your spouse, but try to understand what they want to say, too. I am sure there must be a reason for him to do this. He may not like this arrangement, but he must not be so cruel to you."

Now, Jongin felt stupid and like a child. "The house is under construction, and it will take two weeks to finish it." He answered, rather petulantly to even in his own ears.

"So, there is a reason, huh?"

"Yeah, whatever." He answered flippantly. "However, he should have thought about this before. Not now."

"He has known about this for only a week now, Jongin. Just like you."

He narrowed his eyes, as if Jung could ever see it. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours. Always yours, my child." The older man sighed. "Take rest now, sweetheart, you must be tired. Your parents are calling me."

"Oh," he said, "they are still celebrating?"

"I am sorry, Jongin." Jung cleared his throat, his voice now wet. "Take care of yourself well, alright. I am always here. But, you must be tired. Go to sleep. Good night."

"Yeah, good night."

He sighed and dropped his phone beside him, and then rolled his eyes once again at the pings of messages from his older brother. His older brother would only gloat about having a party, he would rub it in his face as if he wasn’t using everything that only Jongin had earned and not him. Never him. Heechul was a lost cause, he was as important to Jongin as the garbage Mrs. Kim would throw out every morning. If it were not for the glaring reminders every day that Heechul was his own brother, he would not even have bothered with him at all.

He sighed once again and quickly got rid of the jacket, popping open the buttons of his dress shirt and then glared down at the pants sticking to his legs. However, he soon directed his glare to his feet, swallowing hard at the little reminder of what he had become. He sighed at the stinging behind his eyes before curling on his side, eyes shut tight and ears still strained to catch any sound that might come from outside. Sehun was a lot silent now, but Jongin worried that he might still be angry. Not that he actually cared, because it was all Sehun's fault and it did not matter what Jung implied. Jongin couldn't care less if Sehun were wronged here. He could not.

He yawned, and grabbed a fluffy pillow. Jung was right, he was tired enough that he could no more form a proper sentence to explain the of a day it was. He paid a little more attention to the sounds coming from outside before shutting his eyes, again, and decided that sleep it was. Not that it was hard. Jongin had always loved sleeping anyway.

***

The next day, Sehun left him in the penthouse alone. Without a word. In the bedroom, without his wheelchair. Without his number to contact him, without anything. It was cruel. Something that Jongin had not expected from anyone much less his husband. Something that no one had done. Not even at the school or his college. It scared him enough that he stayed curled on the bed to the next long hours, and refused to even look around the room in fear of being more disappointed than he already was. He was angry, he was upset, but most of all he was--he was done with his own vulnerability. It irritated him, and brought an itch to his skin, that he could not live like a normal person; that the first thing that he had to worry about every morning was his goddamn stupid wheelchair. It brought an itch that Jongin could not get rid of no matter how hard he scratched. It was an itch that was back again, it's intensity almost as humiliating as it was in the beginning.

The sun rose and then set high in the sky, however, Jongin remained curled on the bed. It was perhaps in the late afternoon that he snapped open his eyes at the sound of a door opening, and he heard loud, intimidating footsteps before they stopped in front of the room he was still in. There was perhaps hesitation in whoever was on the other side--most probably Sehun, but Jongin couldn’t be bothered with it. He remained curled on the bed, and eyed the door curiously. Sehun knocked thrice at the door before announcing that he was coming in, as if Jongin would ever cover his self for the respect of him. He looked straight into his eyes when he walked in, and rolled his eyes at the instant flush that ran up Sehun’s ears at the half- sight of him. Good for him, it was not like Jongin was ashamed of what he was. When Sehun’s eyes flitted twice, and then thrice at his chest, he thought he could have done a little effort to cover his chest at least. But, nevermind. What was done was done.

Sehun cleared his throat, perhaps nervous and apologetic about something. “I am sorry about that,” he said, waving his hand around. Jongin could not understand what he was hinting at, so he remained silent. "I did not forget about you," he continued, "I mean, not about the wheelchair. It's just," he stopped and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, a little nervous and a little hesitant. "My men did not carry it well--"

"They broke it?"

"They broke it, but I have it repaired. I was out to do that. It took longer than expected, though." He pointed at Jongin with a jerk of his chin. "So, I am sorry that you had to wait here, like that, all alone."

"I don't mind the loneliness," Jongin replied, "but, at least, you could have left a number with me. That would have been a little considerate of you.”

Sehun clenched his jaw, probably irritated at his lack of gratefulness.

But. Hello? It was Jongin you were dealing with.

“I will bring it here. Show you the bathroom. You can go and get ready. I will cook something for you.”

“You don’t have a job?” He prodded. “I mean, sure your company is… almost bankrupt, but I am sure there must be some job--”

“Jongin,” Sehun warned. “I genuinely can’t handle your sass. So, if you’re done. Please.”

Jongin shrugged and lied down on the bed, chest exposed. “Whatever you like, ‘o dear husband of mine.”

He was getting on Sehun’s nerves, he knew. Sehun looked at him twice before shedding his suit jacket to throw it right over Jongin’s upper frame. Oh, well. “At least show some modesty, Jongin.” He snapped before leaving the room altogether. Jongin would have thought that he would not come back, however, in less than a few seconds, he was back in the room with Jongin’s wheelchair. He stopped beside Jongin’s bed, and when Jongin got up, he helped him on it. “Look, Jongin,” he said, in the heavy silence between them, “I don’t want to make this hard for you. I am trying, and I hope you do, too.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snarked, stopping in front of the bathroom. “Whatever I have achieved in all these years is my own, I have done it all on my own. The only thing you need to do is give me my damn wheelchair.”

“Do you think I like this any better--”

“I genuinely do not give a about that.”

Sehun breathed heavily through his mouth. “Alright. Okay. Fine. I will cook something for you, and then I will leave.” Jongin watched him go and when it was clear he would not come back anytime soon, he rolled into the bathroom, and then stopped. Because, of course, he did. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily as the footsteps echoed into the bathroom. “I don’t think I can leave.”

Throughout the time that Sehun shed his own shirt and helped him out of his, and then gracefully though still clumsily, because they both were aware Sehun had never done this for another human, tried to bathe him--they remained silent. Sehun’s eyes stayed politely at either his feet or his face. Sometimes even over his shoulder. However, he said nothing. Jongin, though as snarky as he considered himself, remained silent as well, face flushed red by all the shame and vulnerability. The only person who had seen him like this, had helped him bathe, after that nightmare had been Jung. No one else had seen Jongin in this state. He even prided himself with that. However, today. He swallowed around the bile in his throat, and felt a sting behind his eyes when he caught Sehun’s eyes. Sehun swallowed, too, before wrapping one brawny arm to steady him as he grabbed around for the towel.

“Have you ever,” Sehun began when Jongin was covered as much as he could with the two towels, “thought of physical therapy? I mean, can this not be helped?”

He hung his head low. Sehun guided him through the hallways. “I did not think you would get tired of your daily duties on your first day.”

“It’s not about that, Jongin,” Sehun disagreed. “Alright, I do admit that I have never done this before, and it seems--strange and different to me. I am not sure if I have an opinion of it, yet, but--” he stopped and looked for his own clothes, for Jongin’s clothes had yet to be arranged. “I am just curious, have you ever tried physical therapy? Surgery?”

When he noticed the expression on Sehun’s face and found it devoid of any mockery, he sighed and rolled his head to a side. “It’s too late,” he answered plainly.

Sehun seemed curious, but he did not prod any further. Perhaps he was aware that they were not close enough to have a conversation as big and serious as this. After all, they only learned of each other’s existence a week ago. He grabbed Jongin around his waist once again before shuffling both of them around because he could not figure out how to dress Jongin up--or at least that was the impression that Jongin got from his nervous fiddling.

“I wear a shirt on my own, I don’t need help with that.” He helped and grabbed the said piece of clothing from the other man. “For pants, I need a little help there.”

“Do you think it would be better if you were seated on the bed instead?” He asked and without waiting for a reply from Jongin, manhandled him on the bed. He always looked like he did not have trouble carrying Jongin around and, seriously, Jongin thought that was hot. Though, he hoped the appreciation was not shown on his face. Sehun kneeled in front of him, his eyes not catching Jongin’s even when he continued to speak. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to cook somethin’ right away--” he stopped and looked down at his own half self--“have to go and take a shower myself. You are kind of…” he trailed off, stopping at the right time to give Jongin the time to fill in the places.

Sloppy. Jongin thought. He meant to say I was sloppy. He rolled his eyes and shifted as Sehun asked him. “This is what I am, deal with it. It’s not like I could do anything about it.”

“That’s why I was asking about the physical therapy.” He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest, looking down as Jongin struggled only a little to button up his pants. It was big on him, and pooled down below his ankles. Not that Jongin cared about it; it was not like he could walk around and make a mess of himself, he thought wryly. “One of my friends got into an accident a few years back. Needed physical therapy. Got one good dude. It worked. Now he walks and runs as if he wasn’t about to lose his legs.”

He pressed his lips in a thin line. “I said, it’s past the time.” He looked up at the man and then immediately down at the wide expanse of bare skin in front of him. Sehun was beautiful, all sinewy muscles, big and solid, to the core of his frame. Too bad, he was Jongin’s husband and not just another man who wanted to get into Jongin’s pants for a night or two for a good tumble. Plus, he also irritated Jongin with his endless, repeated questions as if Jongin hadn’t already answered him yet. “I just need to eat my medicines, have someone massage my feet for me. That’s it. I will have to deal with it for the rest of my life.”

“That’s why I said--”

“I remember you said you wanted to shower?”

Sehun nodded and stepped back, a little hesitant and a little irritated for being called off like that. Not that Jongin cared, he thought he could use some alone time after all this. Or, talk to Jung about this, at least he would give the old man something to talk about. “Right. Shower.” Sehun nodded and turned around to leave the bedroom. Jongin eyed his retreating figure in silence, and twitched his eyebrows when his eyes remained fixed on the wide expanse of Sehun’s back muscles. His husband was an annoying prick. An annoying, handsome prick.

Jongin could not believe he was thinking this way. Uh. ty Jongin on the rise again, he thought with a snort. Not that it ever disappeared.

No sooner that Sehun had left, Jongin reached for his phone and dialled Jung right away. He thought he could have fatherly advice into this. His own father couldn’t care less, and it was not surprising to Jongin to find that his family had yet to call him. Good riddance, they probably thought. Psst. Jongin should have stayed if only to piss them off more. Jung, like last night, picked up right away.

“I am a little busy, son.” The old man said, sounding gravely apologetic. “It’s late in the afternoon, tell me you have eaten something.”

“I have.” He winced a little.

“You haven’t eaten anything, have you?” The man sighed. “Did he not cook anything for you? Anything at all--I think I will talk to your father about this. If he could not take care of you, then at least he can hire a maid--”

“No, uh, he’s cooking.”

Jung stayed silent for a moment before he sighed, a heavy little thing from the deep of one’s soul. “You have to take your medicine on time, too, Jongin. You don’t want that pain--” he stopped, a call of his name from someone very familiar, his mother--“I will have to go, Jongin. Look, if he can’t cook for you then you go on and order from outside. He will learn on his own, do you understand me?” Jongin said he did. “Good. Now. Now. Take care, alright? We will talk later, okay?”

Jongin sighed and bid him a farewell for now. Sehun knocked at the door, now dressed comfortably from head to toe. “If you are finished?” He tilted his head to the side, a curious arch of an eyebrow on tow.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, then.” He followed the routine: grabbed the wheelchair, then grabbed Jongin, and then finally helped him on it. It was annoying how silent he was, even though throughout the time Jongin had snarked at him. “I think I am tired,” he said finally, “and I would rather not give you the satisfaction with my reactions.”

Jongin rolled his eyes. “Do I still feel difficult?”

“It’s been less than a day, Jongin,” Sehun answered, his back to Jongin. “I don’t know how you can possibly imagine that I would know what type of person you are.” He placed a glass of milk in front of Jongin, and smiled in amusement when Jongin wrinkled his nose in distaste. “What? Want me to add Horlicks to it?”

“No, thank you, daddy,” he replied sarcastically and then tried hard to not notice almost subtle change in Sehun’s disposition. He swallowed and reached for the glass.

Sehun cleared his throat, a tinge of red on his cheeks. “Jung called me, and told me about your medicines and all. You should have told me that you have to take them.”

“I thought you would know.”

“How--how am I supposed to know that, Jongin?” He turned back to Jongin. “I am no God, I need to be told your requirements. I cannot just know things.”

“Well, it’s not a wild thing to guess someone like me would need some help from you and medicine.”

“Can you be a little less snarky, for God’s sake?” He slapped a hand on the counter and rubbed his forehead with the other. Jongin remained mum, because, okay, alright, sometimes Sehun made sense. “I am trying, alright. I am ing trying, and I want you to do the same. Make things easier for us both, will you?” He grabbed a plate and quickly placed some omelet and bread onto it. “How about you finish your food, and mop somewhere far from me?”

“Can you not order something better?” He scrunched his nose. It was not like Jongin had a particular dislike of this dish, but Jongin would rather eat what he ate back home. “Or we can call someone to cook us something better?”

“No, I think I want you to suffer.” With that, the man turned around and left. Jongin huffed and rolled his eyes at him before turning to look at the served food, if it could be called so.

“At least give me my orange juice?”

***

The next evening brought the Oh couple to their home. Or, well, at Sehun's penthouse. Jongin, alarmed at their sudden appearance, remained surprised throughout their stay at the penthouse. Wide eyed, he stared at them as they went through and through every topic. They were excited, Jongin noticed, and there was some sort of beauty and life in them that Jongin’s own family never had; not when they were struggling, and definitely not when they became what they currently were. They were happy, and Jongin was surprised to realize that his own family could not relate to that even though they had all what they could possibly want. It brought a feeling of alienation in him, and more than often Jongin thought that perhaps it was how He meant to see Jongin suffer; to remind him that all the money that he had worked so hard to get could not compensate for what he had been desiring all this while. Pathetic, really.

Sehun placed a glass of water in his hand, the elder Oh couple’s laughter served as a background noise. “You seem lonely.”

“I don’t think I am.”

“You don’t need to think so, Jongin. You just are,” Sehun sighed, and waited for him to gulp down his water. “Are you tired? Do you want to take some rest?”

He swallowed and looked behind himself and at his, well, in-laws. “Would that be appropriate?”

“You don’t have to worry about that. You are tired, you say. No one will stop you from resting.”

“Yeah, but--” he ducked his head low and sighed once again. Now that Sehun had mentioned it, he felt sleepy and loose. “If it isn’t impolite, then I would like to rest.”

Sehun smiled, though it was not pity in his eyes that Jongin noticed. It was, well, okay. Alright. “Alright, then,” he said and stood up, and went to talk to his parents.

“Of course, that’s perfectly fine, Jongin!”

“Yes, take rest, son.”

Jongin ing hated them for being so kind and polite; it was almost infuriating how amazing they were as parents and in-laws. When he curled under the sheets, safe and content in the warmth that it brought to him, Sehun cleared his throat from where he was standing beside the bed. “What?” He asked, not unkindly.

Sehun cleared his throat again. “It’s raining heavily,” he began, “and it’s late.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“My parents are going to stay over for the night.”

Oh. Well. He peeked over the comforter and at Sehun, and narrowed his eyes the further his mind found logical explanations about why Sehun would say so. “What is it that you want to say?”

Sehun flushed red to his ears, and curled a hand behind his neck. “Well, we will have to stay--”

“Together, for the night?” Jongin finished and then rolled on his back, purposefully taking up as much space as he could to make a statement. “Yeah, sure, why not.”

“Huh?”

“Huh, what? We have to sleep together, so be it. It’s for a night anyway. It’s not like you are going to try anything funny with me.” He looked over his shoulder. “Are you?”

“No. Nah. Nope.” Sehun shook his head for added measure.

“Then, we’re fine.”

“Oh,” Sehun said, barely a whisper, “ah, I won’t touch you,” he added in a promising tone, his cheeks flushed.

Jongin turned around, splayed wide on the bed. He knew what sight he made, but it was satisfying nonetheless to see Sehun’s eyes giving him once over before reaching his face again. The sight of a flush faced Sehun was, well, regrettably adorable. “I won’t mind being touched by the likes of you,” he said, hungrily watching the shift of the muscles in Sehun’s shoulders and his triceps. “But, I would like to be asked for dinner first.”

Sehun swallowed, and his gaze lingered on the soft curves of Jongin’s chest for a moment before he looked away, breathing heavy as if he was trying hard to not imagine… certain scenarios. Jongin blinked at the fast approaching heat beneath his skin. He could not be trusted; just last day, he wanted to murder this man for just being there, and now--wow. He sure knew how to make progress.

“I, uh, will--” Sehun stopped and jerked his chin at the door. He looked down at Jongin, all soft lines. There was nothing that was there this morning or yesterday’s or a week ago annoyance that he wore on his face if only to annoy Jongin’s person. “Sleep well, Jongin,” Sehun said softly, and then swallowed before blinking as if he could not believe what he was saying. He cleared his throat and nodded at him once before leaving the room altogether.

Jongin looked at his retreating back, and strained his eyes further to catch the flex of Sehun's back muscles. Which was, well, just as toe curling as it was then. He knew what he liked, but it was getting ridiculous now. He huffed and curled under the covers, with the sole intention to sleep away. Though, when Sehun came back half an hour later, Jongin still felt him lying stiff behind him. After that, sleep came fairly easily.

The morning brought them back into the lives of awake with a blaring alarm. Jongin slapped a hand over his face, annoyed at being woken up so rudely. Sehun hissed and slapped the alarm shut, a heavy arm draped over Jongin's waist. Jongin could not believe this man's audacity. He eyed the man in silence and his still sleep laden mind, but stayed the way he was. Sehun sighed and lied down, and raised a hand to rub at his face. He sighed once again before looking at Jongin, and somehow looked more awake than Jongin could ever imagine to.

"Dreamed of you."

Jongin made a face and looked down at the tent in Sehun's trousers. "Geez, Sehun. You did not need to tell me that."

"No!" Sehun blushed and sputtered, "that's not what you are thinking. 'sides, that's normal," he added weekly.

"Really?" Jongin raised an eyebrow and shifted away from the hold of Sehun's rather heavy and brawny arm. "What was I doing? Bouncing on your ?" He asked, lasciviously.

"No, God." Sehun groaned, and sat up on the bed. He rubbed his hands on his face before running them through his silky strands. Jongin kind of wanted to do the same. "You know that it's not what you are saying. I don't--I did not dream of you like that. I swear."

"What am I supposed to do? Believe that?"

Sehun huffed, and got off the bed. “I don’t care if you believe that or not. But, I dreamed of you, and that was not what you think it was. It was, some sort of nightmare, you can say. I don’t know.” He huffed again and looked at Jongin, Jongin noticed only now that he was, yet again, shirtless. “Do you want to take a bath right now?”

Jongin swallowed, momentarily distracted by the sheer display of burly muscles. “Are your parents still here?”

“No, they left.”

“What?”

“They left, in the early morning.” Sehun swallowed, a flush on his face. “I can help you bath. I have to leave for the Office anyway. So, we have to be quick.”

“Yeah,” he answered, and sat up on the bed with a little effort. “I would like to bath.”

Sehun nodded and walked to his side.

Later, when Jongin’s fresh with showers and covered in Sehun’s clothes, because they forgot to arrange Jongin’s clothes again, Sehun left with a quick promise that he would go and check the progress of the house. Jongin nodded at him then, and he nodded yet again when Sehun came back to inform him about the food he had ordered because he could not swing something quick in the kitchen. A few hours later, when the sun rose high up, Jongin realised that they didn’t have each other’s numbers. Which was, well, a little concerning seeing how Jongin needed to have people at speed dial, in case something went wrong and he needed help. He huffed and decided that he would rather wait for Sehun to come back home then talk to him about this.

Now, right now--he was getting bored.

He swallowed the juice Sehun had left for him, and grimaced when he realised he had almost finished it. He did not know what he would do after that. Sure, he could be creative and find something to help him pass the time, but he did not know how he would live his life this; cooped up in these expensive walls for nothing to keep company but silence and the constant reminder that he needed goddamn help at every thing that he might want to do. The feeling of dejection is enough to keep him bound on the wheelchair in front of the tv for a long while. However, the agitation that started creeping up his skin is annoying and unsettling and so he settled for looking around the Hall to pass the time until Sehun came back.

Jongin hated to admit it, but this was a place that he would buy himself if ever provided the chance. It was large, wide, and decorated in all sorts of European decoration. Expensive paintings were pinned on the wall, a floor to ceiling window overlooked the entirety of the city. There were two sofas on either side of the window, and artificial plants on every corner of the Hall. A balcony--Jongin stopped. He could not do it anymore. He was not made for this, he could not do this. He shook his head, hands trembling to hold onto a business book or a novel to help him with the loneliness. However, he had none with him. When he heard the cringy, whiny sounds of singing on the screen, he switched that off, too, which left him completely in silence.

He rubbed a hand on his face, and felt a similar stinging sensation behind his eyes. He was so alone, and it was getting tiring now, living with the said truth. He pulled his legs up, and looked down at the sad excuse of his feet. He tried to wriggle the toes, the fingers--but they were as persistent in stillness as Jongin's undeserved misery. It brought a fresh wave of tears in his eyes, and he wondered how different life could have been for him had he not chosen to stay that night over at the house. If only he had not.

It was so stupid; his decision.

Perhaps, if he were not dealing with this, he would not have to marry Sehun. He could have guided the company he worked hard for to all the right paths. He could have found a man he actually loved. They could have a family together. It would have been better than this--whatever this was. He snapped a fist on his left foot, and of course there was no sensation. It brought a new wave of seething irritation in him.

He had no idea how much time he spent looking at his feet, but when the front door opened, it was already dark outside. A look at the clock told him it was past 10 in the evening. Huh. A few hours at most. He had been staring at his feet for hours.

He huffed. Another day wasted. Wow. Really.

"Uh," Sehun said, stumbling on his way inside. "Hey."

He was drunk, Jongin realised. He narrowed his eyes when Sehun waved at him, and stumbled his way into the kitchen. Jongin followed him, and kept his narrowed eyes fixed at Sehun. Sehun grabbed a bottle from the fridge, and gulped down it before turning to look at him properly. He shed his jacket on one of the dining chairs.

"You slept with someone," Jongin said. Stated actually. It did not bring any twinge of jealousy or anger in him, he was just naturally… bummed. Or shocked, perhaps, at the possibility that Sehun came back sleeping with someone. To him. As Jongin waited for him like some kind of house husband.

Sehun's mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. "Everyone's not a like you, Jongin. I did not sleep with anyone." He rubbed a hand over his face, and then leaned against the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest, and looked over at Jongin with his slightly unfocused eyes. “But, you, I know you know everything that there is to know about it.” He spread his arms a little. “Kim Jongin can do anything.” He laughed a mocking laugh.

He was drunk. "I cannot do everything,” he replied, sarcastically humble, “but I can take it."

Sehun snorted, the emotion heavy on his mouth. "Like a in heat. Yes. I am sure you can do that."

Jongin pressed his lips in a thin line, eyes twinkling as if amused. He watched the drunk man stumble his way to the fridge again. Perhaps he already forgot about the bottle already out. "Ouch. It was true. But ouch. But then again, I have experienced more than you can possibly imagine. So, I understand where this jealousy and hatred stem from."

Sehun did not listen to him. "I am sure a like you can wait no more than an hour for a ."

"Wow. You really have a very low opinion of me." He whistled.

"The whole world has, Jongin." The man hissed and leaned over the table and at him, his eyes and frame hazy. "'sides, I like being mean to you. Just like you try to be mean to me and my family's situation." He hissed again. “You did not talk properly to them when they were here last day, you did not bid them a good night. You did not bid them farewell. Just because they don’t say anything--just because I don’t say anything, doesn’t mean that you are being the best son-in-law. You are being humiliating. Having a low opinion of you is the result of the annoyance that I feel because of you.”

"I left everything to be a part of this family, the least you can do is ing respect my person."

"Do you respect me?" Sehun barked in return.

He huffed, haughtily. "There's really nothing to respect you, Sehun--" he looked away, a cocky smile creeped up on his face--"besides, what kind of magazines and articles do you read that you have made such an opinion of me?"

"Your ty stories are all over the internet, Jongin. Just 'cause you had a big business does not mean everyone's a fan of you. People think you are a . Men lust after you. Do you even know what they talk about you?" He sat on one chair, sleepy eyes trained on Jongin. “They are my men, and they--they ing talk about you. They say… things about you. They say I was stupid to marry you. Do I think the same? No. Not yet, at least. But your acts are all over the Internet. People know about you. People talk. Do you know what they say about me? They have got a low opinion of me. You know why? because, I married a ing rich like you.” He hissed. “Do you know what they say about you?”

"I am sure you do,” Jongin replied, calmly. Anger swirled lazily under his skin, but Jongin was too familiar with the sensation, and so it was easy to push the feeling down.

"Oh, believe me, I do." He waved Jongin off. He closed his eyes, and angled his face away from Jongin. He was silent, and there was this nervous energy about him that Jongin could not understand. It was as if he wanted to say something but was hesitating because he thought the words could make him sound vulnerable and kind to Jongin’s ears and his situation--it was all a wild guess.

Sehun swallowed, and it was loud in the silence around them. "I don't like it, though. The way they talk about you." He swallowed again, and intentionally did not look at Jongin.

Contradicting his own words now, huh? Jongin did not want to think about it--but the more he thought about it, the more it bugged him that Sehun probably never was cruel with his words and actions, but it was the circumstance that asked him to be mean to Jongin. Or whatever. Jongin was not going to waste his time thinking about it. Sehun was not a child.

He huffed. "Ah, out of the goodness of your heart? I am sure, yeah."

Sehun shook his head and stayed silent for another few minutes before finally looking at him. "No,” he said firmly. “No one should talk the way they do about anyone, but especially not about my own.” He clenched his jaw, and looked more sober than anyone should normally look after looking that drunk just moments prior. He swallowed, and then reached for the water bottle with shaking fingers. “Not of my own. Never of my own.”

Jongin swallowed. It was hard enough to accept where they were, and with the way Sehun was constantly acting--Jongin did not understand what Sehun wanted him to believe in. He opened his mouth to reply something, something that Sehun seemed waiting for, but then his phone rang and it was shrill enough to break the silence around them, “My, uh, phone,” he said, and wheeled his wheelchair away. “Night.”

He grabbed his phone from the coffee table, and though he felt Sehun's burning gaze on his back, he did not look behind. He picked up the call without checking who it was, and rolled his wheelchair into the bedroom. Sehun was confusing him, and Jongin hated him for that.

"You will need my help getting on the bed!" Sehun shouted from behind him. Jongin bristled at the blatant reminder of his… shortcoming.

It was his mother’s voice that filtered through. He swallowed at the heavy silence from the other end, a stinging sensation present behind his eyelids. “Jongin,” she said finally, “how are you?”

Jongin wanted to snark--how did the party go? Did you celebrate my leaving enough? Or is it still left? “I am fine,” he replied instead, “how’s Papa?”

“He is as fine as an old man could be.” She sighed, a hint of something in her voice that Jongin could not pinpoint. “Tell me how it is going. Is your marriage life good?”

You would want to know that, wouldn’t you? He swallowed and then clenched his jaw. “It’s going as well as it can with a complete stranger.”

“Now you don’t get to do this, Jongin. We gave you the choice.” She reprimanded softly, though her voice edged closer to the annoyance that Jongin was very familiar with.

“Really? Was I really given a choice?” He clenched his jaw, and stayed seated on his wheelchair though he wanted so very much to lie down. “You forced me. You manipulated me. Emotionally, both of you are dead.”

“Jongin,” she said, “has he hit you? Has he abused you? Tell me if he has done so, I will help--”

“You have hit me. You have abused me--your son’s friend abused me, and all you did was ng watch. Can you help me? No, you cannot. You only know how to count money!”

“Jongin--”

He hung up the phone before she could come with a new excuse--or worse, as always, a new abuse. He threw his phone on the bed, and breathed heavily through his mouth into the hollow of his palm. Tears threatened to fall, but Jongin refused to cry over this. He had already cried a lot for what his mother did and did not do, he could not cry anymore. He swallowed the bile down and then whipped his head to the side to see Sehun leaning heavily against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at Jongin with this soft understanding on his mouth that Jongin wanted to throw his phone on his, admitdelly, handsome face.

“What?” He cried, tears in his eyes. When a few tears slipped down his cheeks, he cried more because he had tried so hard to keep them in.

“I thought you would need my help.” Sehun shrugged, and stepped further into the room.

In the end, he did need Sehun's help.

Jongin looked away, and then wiped at his eyes. “Yeah,” he said, “I could use some help, I guess.” Sehun did so immediately. “You don’t need to be patronizing, though,” he said later, “I know how to do some things.”

“I am sure,” Sehun soothed. “But, I thought you would need my help tonight.” He looked down at Jongin’s phone. “You can humiliate me if you want, later. Do stuff on your own.”

He swallowed and stayed silent.

“You don’t seem to have a good relationship with your parents, or brother. Only with Jung.”

“Jung is my family.” He answered, and then sighed. He clenched a hand on the comforter. “She used to tell me that parents love all their children equally. She told me that parents don’t discriminate--while, she, as my parent, struggled to give me the same love she did to Heechul.” He laughed a hollow laugh. “It shows, you know. Feelings like love don’t need to be said. You just show it. It ing shows. In little things she did for Heechul, still does for him even though he’s almost thirty, and the little things she either did not do for me or did but half-heartedly.”

“I am sorry.” Sehun hung his head low, looking like he hadn’t been drunk at all.

“Why would you be? You have got loving parents.”

Sehun shrugged. “Even all the money and intelligence could not buy you the love you deserve, Jongin. I am sorry.” Jongin did not know if the words were spoken to mock him.

Jongin hated this man so ing much, he did not know how to propely express it in words.

Sehun looked hopeful when he looked up into Jongin’s eyes. “We can start over. Just wanna show you how lovable you are.”

He snorted. “For my money?” He snarked, and something like hurt and resignation crossed Sehun’s eyes. “You can’t love me for me, Sehun. It’s either the money or the brain. Don’t try to be cliche. ing leave me alone, now.”

Sehun’s jaw ticked, and there was this stubborn itch in his eyes and his frame that even Jongin could feel it from all this distance. “Perhaps it’s just you who drives people away, Jongin. Stop blaming others when it’s only you.” He growled, and bared his teeth at Jongin, hurt and upset by Jongin’s dismissive behaviour. Jongin did not look away, even when Sehun seemed to despise his bluntness and dismissiveness more than ever. Without another word, Sehun stepped back and left the bedroom. It was only when he had long gone that Jongin thought back to his own words, and he thought--ouch. He was a jerk.

Restless, even an hour later, he dropped the glass jug kept on the bedside table. Sehun, as expected, returned into the room within a few minutes, though this time he looked sleepy and irritated.

“What happened?” He asked, even though he could see what happened.

Jongin shrugged. “I wanted water. Was sleepy. Could not get my hands on the jug. Dropped it. You came.” He summarized.

“Seriously, Jongin.” He sighed, and rubbed a trembling hand over his face. He was still sleepy.

“I am sorry..” He winced. “I thought about what I said, I am sorry.”

Sehun grabbed the jug from the floor and remained silent for some moments. “You get defensive when someone challenges your own beliefs of yourself. That’s okay,” he added hurriedly before Jongin could come back with a retort. “I get defensive, too, and I say things that I don’t mean. Then, I regret ever saying what I did.” He sighed and, surprising Jongin, he sat on the edge of the bed as if they were going to have a heart to heart conversation. Jongin rolled his eyes, though the unknown sensation of excitement ran through his veins anyway. “I-” he said, and stopped to take a breath, “I am sorry, too. For what I said that day,”--the day they first met, Jongin supposed--“the day before yesterday, today, and every other time that I said something insensitive.” Jongin sat up on the bed, against the headboard. “Everyone said--actually warned--that you are kind of a jerk,” he winced and passed an apologetic look at Jongin, “and the way you talked, though you were only defending your person, made me think that they were right after all. After that, after marrying you--they found a whole new thing to talk about.. Your, well, your wild days.”

“Wild days,” Jongin snorted.

Sehun huffed a laugh, his eyes crinkled at the corners. He was rather beautiful, Jongin had to give him that. He was horrified at how quickly he blushed at the thought of having someone as handsome as Sehun as his husband. “Wild days,” he agreed. “The videos are all over the internet. You are popular like a star,” he added bluntly, though his words did not mean to hurt Jongin. They did not hurt Jongin, because 1) it was the truth, and 2) Jongin was not ashamed of what he did in the past with countless men. “They pick up all that to remind me to whom I am married,” he continued, though softly, “I hate them for being loud and about you, about my husband. That’s why I came home drinking.” He shook his head. “I don’t sleep around much, Jongin. After marrying you, I don’t think I need to go around and find people.”

“Yeah, because I am available twenty-four seven to spread my legs for you.” He teased, though Sehun looked like he took it literally.

“That’s not--that’s not what it is, Jongin,” he sputtered, as if horrified that Jongin could think so. “We are married, and I hope that things will come around, and we will eventually… be in love. You don’t have to hide with me, Jongin,” he added, “If things went well, we will stay together for a long while.”

“Yeah,” Jongin replied, unblinking, and heart thundering in his chest. His face heated up, and he looked away. He did not know how they went from swearing at each other to talking about some stuff… like now.

Sehun cleared his throat, and wrung his hands together. A nervous energy radiated off him, and even Jongin felt it. “My parents--especially my mother--love you a lot, Jongin. They love you like you are their son. It has nothing to do with your… money. That’s probably why I was so confused when we first met. I mean, you were an to me--” he looked at Jongn when Jongin laughed--“and I could not understand why they like you so much, not then, not now.”

“Do you see it now?” He raised his eyebrows, haughty in his approach.

Sehun grinned. “Not yet,” he replied honestly, “I don’t think we have spent much time together for me to come to that conclusion.”

“Yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes.

“My parents love you, Jongin. I am sorry about how your family treats you, but if you ever need a parental figure in your life, you have my parents. They are yours, too. One of these days when you get comfortable around them, they are going to ask you to call them mummy, papa anyway.” He smiled and, in a brave moment, reached for Jongin’s hand. Jongin’s heart beat widely in his chest. “I don’t want to believe what they say about you, because I know you are more than that. But,” he swallowed, “please give me a chance. Us a chance. You know with the agreement, we are not going to get separated for at least five years anyway. So, I think we should give each other a try?”

“I don’t,” he swallowed, and then stopped.

“Is it sudden? The way I am speaking? I don’t mean to force you into anything, Jongin. I just gave it a lot of thoughts. If we swore at each other these five years, we will only ruin our time and lives. It’s better to get the best out of it, right?”

“You literally called me a , like, two hours ago.”

“You literally called me a at the same time, though in a more decent language.” Hr grinned, and rubbed a thumb over Jongin’s knuckles. “At least, I apologized.”

“Jeez.” Jongin laughed. “I am sorry.”

“Is that it?”

“That’s it,” he agreed, and giggled only seconds later when Sehun passed him a funny look.

Sehun sighed. “That’s fine, too, I guess,” Sehun smiled, and gave his fingers a squeeze. “Rest.” He pressed his fingers to Jongin’s neck, and Jongin shivered, though rather subtly, when Sehun unconsciously grazed his index finger over the sensitive side of his neck. “I will try to be the best husband, Jongin.” He promised with a small promising smile.

Jongin swallowed, a tear in his heart that he had rarely felt before. Kindness was not new to him, though it was rather rare. “I will try to be the best husband as well, husband.” Hr grinned cheekily.

Sehun laughed, and poked his cheek. “Go back to sleep,” he said, “and, oh,” he started, “if you need my attention, just call my name. Don’t go on breaking stuff the next time. This jug was lucky it had carpet on the floor, but others might not be. Now,” he added, before Jongin could quip back, “go to sleep. I will be in, uh, my room if you need me.”

“Yeah. Night."

He lied down, and watched Sehun leave. He smiled under the covers.

***

After that little conversation, it was easier to ‘tolerate’ Sehun’s presence. Tolerate. Is an exaggeration, especially considering how Jongin often got excited at the mere presence of the older man. They talked, and they talked some more. A week passed like that, and before they knew, the apartment was ready for them. Jongin, now excited and cuddled with the friendly warmth that came with Sehun, ‘investigated’ each and every corner of the place, for he had to live there for a long while, it was his right to see and check if Sehun had done well with everything or not. Sehun remained standing in the hallway, as if giving him the space to chec. With the newly given right and responsibility, he freely roamed around the place--well, as freely as a wheelchair bound person could do.

There were three bedrooms, adjacent to each other, huge and spacious; two guest bedrooms, a little smaller than the other three bedrooms but just as spacious; two bathrooms; a kitchen at the far right; a hall, and finally a garden in the back. It was simple, at least if compared to the place Jongin had spent most of his life at, but it was surprisingly well and good for even him. Though the standard had fallen considerably low, he thought with a wince, though still for a man who had lived in mansions, this was surprisingly alright. Perfect? not yet, but Jongin had a feeling that he would soon find this place perfect.

“It’s fine,” he said, coming back to Sehun.

“Fine,” Sehun laughed, arching an eyebrow at him. “This is the best I could do.”

“It seems so,” he replied, tight lipped, though his words did not mean any harm.

Sehun seemed to know this, too, and took no offense in Jongin’s criticism. “You will come to love it,” Sehun said simply, “when you live simply, you don’t need--”

“We are going to sleep in separate bedrooms, right?”

“Ah,” Sehun said, surprised at the sudden change of topic. “Yeah, right. Of course.” He cleared his throat. “Separate bedrooms.”

Jongin rolled his eyes at him. “Just ‘cause we talked does not mean I am ready to spread my legs for you, Sehun.” He stated, rather bluntly, “if you were just a one-night stand, I would have done so a long time ago, but you are my, well, husband. That changes things a lot.”

“I--” Sehun sputtered again, “I did not mean that. Sharing bedrooms does not mean .”

“Yeah,” he snorted, and rolled his wheelchair to take another look at the apartment. “Sharing bedrooms does not mean .”

Sehun cleared his throat, again. “You can decorate the home as you want. Or we can have interior designers at it, but I thought you would like to get it by your own choice.”

“Well, that’s flattering to know, Sehun,” he grinned, and turned to look at him, “you don’t want your own inputs?”

“Walls don’t really mean much to me. So, no. I will pass.” He smiled. “You can hire people for it. I will like whatever you make of this… home.”

Home furnishing did not take much of Jongin’s time, though he spent as much as time as he could on it without making it sound like he was stalling. Between the little breaks and Sehun’s presence at the company, he ordered as many takeouts he could, relishing in the savory taste of them. Though he knew he would regret spending so much time on fast food, he could not help himself. Sehun was not much at home these days, and it was rare he cooked enough before he left. Jongin, alone at home and without anything to do, would first finish whatever was cooked for him, and then would order from outside.

It was this slip up that brought the truth out.

Before the wedding, Jongin had been informed that his company and parents would not only help Sehun’s company with all its debts, they also promised to buy a thousand of Oh’s shares, also that Jongin’s company (now, regretfully, his brother’s) would invest 10 billion dollars in Sehun’s. That was the deal that Jongin had been informed about. Aside from the other little helps for Sehun’s company, they were the deals. Jongin did not bother to check the papers, and later when he found out what actually transpired, he regretted trusting his unfaithful family way too much.

On a Sunday, when Sehun came home earlier than he did on usually working days, he had a paper in his hand. He did not look angry, nor did he look like he would ask Jongin to leave any time soon. But, he radiated this energy off him, perhaps nervousness? Agitation? Shame? Embarrassment of something? Jongin had no idea, but he looked disappointed. Not in Jongin, but himself--and that, too, when he looked at the half eaten pizza slice in Jongin’s hand.

Sehun swallowed, before he picked up the pizza box from Jongin’s lap, intentionally not meeting his eyes.

“Alright, alright, Jongin,” he said with a slight huff, “we can’t afford to eat this everyday.”

Jongin clamped his mouth shut. Taken aback by the behaviour. “Well, my parents gave you so much money, this is the least that you can do for me.”

Sehun sighed and placed the pizza box back in his lap, helpless and resigned. Then, just as silently, rubbed his hands over his face, distracted by some other thought.

He stayed silent for long enough for Jongin to think what came out of his mouth. It was a sudden thought, a shiver of fear and disgust that ran through his veins that brought that single question out of his mouth. A doubt at the edge of his mind, because a part of him knew how distrustful and greedy his family was, perhaps it was this part of him that nudged the question in the front of his mind, and at the tip of his tongue,

“They never gave you the money?”

Sehun stayed silent. It was answer enough.

Jongin swallowed as shame creeped up on his face. “They never gave you the money,” he repeated, though in conclusion this time.

Sehun rubbed his face with a hand before looking up at the tv screen. “It’s not their… fault, Jongin. It just shows that my parents and I don’t ing know how to handle a damn company. After all the debt was paid, we thought we would make it out alive, but--” he swallowed, and looked at him--“I am sorry that you have to deal with a loser of a husband like me, when you had a multi billion dollar company right on your feet.”

“The deal, Sehun. The deal said my company will invest 10 billion in yours. We promised to buy a hundred shares of your--wait--”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“They lied to me.” He said. “They ing lied to me, and I like a fool believed their lie.”

Sehun seemed confused. “Jongin,” he soothed, bringing a hand to grab Jongin’s. “What is it?”

“They said a lot of things,” he cried, horrified and ashamed of his family, “God, Sehun, they promised me that they were going to do so much.”

“They did. We had a lot of debt--”

Sehun. This idiot did not get it. “Ah,” he cried, and slapped a hand over his eyes. “They lied to me. They just wanted my company.”

Sehun swallowed. “What?”

Jongin stayed silent, before he curled a hand over his mouth. “I am going to sleep.” He declared, he grabbed his phone and left just as quickly. He dialed Jung before gracelessly crawling from the wheelchair to the bed in an impossible stretch of his frame. He managed, though he was sure he had tore open his skin somewhere near his knees. Though, he did not care. By the time Jung picked up, his eyes were teary and swollen by the unshed tears of hurt, shame, and sheer embarrassment of what his family was.

“They lied to me,” he sobbed into the phone when Jung picked up, “my own family lied to me, Jung.”

“Oh, Jongin,” the man said, “what happened?”

Even Jung, their trusted butler, did not know about this.

***

Two weeks later, Jongin considered himself a changed person. Though emotionally it was impossible, he still decided that he could no more handle calling his family ‘his family’. They were ridiculous, and Jongin hated them for being as disloyal and untruthful as they were to everyone, even to Jongin. After a brief talk with Jung, in which he sobbed more and talked less, Jongin realised that no one at the mansion knew what his parents and older brother were up to. They apparently thought Jongin was too naive to doubt them and, to Jongin’s embarrassment, they were right. He did not bother talking to his family, and only talked to Sehun and his in-laws about it. Perhaps Sehun was too tired to talk about it any further, and dismissed the mere idea that Jongin should talk to his parents about it.

If I could not do anything with what I had, I don’t think I could do any better with what they may or may not give us, Sehun said.

However, it was hard for Jongin to accept; for it was the company that he worked hard to bring where it was, and not his family. He had swallowed the shame, the bile of pain and regret before he allowed himself to let go of the past and hatred.

His family might have taken that company from him, Jongin trusted himself that he could do that all over again.

Three weeks later, Sehun announced that they were going to hold a reception. A few weeks later than usual, but Jongin could not bother pointing that out. The reception was not supposed to be any big anyway, just a little reunion between their families and a few close friends. Before the reunion, a photoshoot was to be held. As per the traditions of the Oh family. Their couple photo would be hung on the wall of the Hall of their traditional family home, as happened with the couples before them. It was something that Jongin had never heard of, and so was excited and curious about the whole process. Sunday evening was chosen, and so Jongin and Sehun found themselves in the little garden behind their home, as chosen by Jongin. Sehun had little to say about it anyway.

The photographer was a handsome man by the name Lucas, and so it was not hard for Jongin to keep his eyes straight at the camera. By the subtle little looks passed by the man himself and at Jongin, Jongin was sure the attraction was reciprocated. Sehun, of course, seemed displeased by their little interaction. Throughout the session, he looked like someone had personally insulted him on his handsome face, and so it was only natural of him to frown at everything and everyone he came across. Especially at Lucas. Jongin found it funny, and so did whatever annoyed Sehun. Sehun, though, after a while when it was time to click the picture, seemed aloof.

Of course, that meant he had taken upon himself to do everything within his reach to show everyone present what he wanted them to know.

"Come here, my sweet little darling." Sehun patted his thighs, encouraging Jongin to climb into his lap. He was seated on a makeshift platform. He was smiling, almost innocently, but you could see the mischief behind the brown of his eyes.

Jongin pressed his lips in a thin line, irritated, amused and confused at his own reaction, but did as was asked of him. “You are annoying, husband.”

Sehun grinned innocently and grabbed his wrist in a lazy, careless hold. “You look beautiful,” he said, and said in a tone that made him sound like he truly believed it. He flushed, but refrained from saying anything else.

When the cameraman showed a thumb up from behind the camera, Jongin felt a subtle kiss to the side of his neck, just before the familiar click. He shivered under the press of the man's mouth, all his senses highlighted for Sehun had kissed right where he was the most sensitive. He swallowed. Sehun’s fingers dug into the softness of his waist, before they travelled under the button down to caress his smooth skin. The camera clicked again. He swallowed, again. Lucas asked them to look into the camera, and when they did--their eyes were heavy with unbidden emotion.

It was ing fast.