The air is heavy with the thick scent of blood and . The room seems hotter than the surface of the sun, sweat dripping from drenched bangs and covering bodies in a consistent layer. The sounds bouncing around the walls are lewd and animalistic, everything human gone and only the distorted reality of ChangKyun’s mind having any saying over what was going on, as he sinks his teeth into the white skin of the man below him until the metallic taste of blood hits his tongue. He hears the man letting out a whimper as his body shivers, convulses and tightens incredibly around ChangKyun’s length and he growls against the fresh wound.

It’s not him doing this. This not what he wants. Something he hates, something he loathes, something that lives in his head has taken over and he can’t stop it no matter how much he tries. He can hear the man he is nothing more but violating now desperately calling his name, reaching out to him and trying to break through the heavy fog that is covering ChangKyun’s eyes and smothering his common sense - his humanity - but it’s useless. That thing controlling ChangKyun only grows stronger and soon the poor man under him can’t say a single word coherently.

Both of them are pushed over the edge in counted seconds and the whole world - which now is no further than this room - turns black and soundless. The fog clears from ChangKyun’s eyes and he is now himself - barely being able to breathe, every muscle in his body aching. Yet he doesn’t have it the worst from two sides that were attacked so brutally by his own mind and demons hiding in it. He looks down to meet two barely open warm, brown eyes looking at him from behind sweaty brown bangs, kiss bruised and swollen lips parted in heavy uneven breathes, fresh bite marks, from purplish bruises to one's bleeding, covering his shoulders. And finally ChangKyun is wide awake, the whole situation too familiar to him suddenly.

“I am so sorry,” he breathes out, his eyes foggy yet again but this time because of the tears that start streaming over his cheeks. He pulls away from the man and like a scared animal he looks around for somewhere to run, somewhere to hide, but the hideout comes to him instead as the man sits up and pulls him close instantly. ChangKyun tries to break free, to get out of the embrace, his sobbing getting stronger and more out of control, yet the man is stronger, he has always been, and ChangKyun stays trapped.

“I am so, so, so sorry,” he repeats through hiccups of tears as he accepts the given to him sanctuary and buries himself deeper into the welcoming arms, the mess of blood, sweat and being nothing repulsive anymore, as he is the most disgusting creature in this room, on this planet even.

ChangKyun is weak. He knows it. He also knows that he is useless and a nuisance, that he is good for nothing and only a broken shell the man holding him doesn’t want to throw away because of pity. At the same time he knows the man who is rocking him back and forth so gently, petting his hair and laying soft kisses on top of his head loves him and is ready to go through hell and back for him. ChangKyun knows all of that and that only breaks him more and is if knowing that, he is pulled even closer and hugged tighter.

Weakly, almost as if his hands that have left those purple marks on the brunette’s thighs now have no strength, he hugs the man aswell and for thousandth time silently prays something else but this madness would ease the pain. He has tried it all - chemicals pumped into him in forms of IV’s and pills, that did silence the urges rummaging in his skull, but turned him into a walking corpse as any sight of food made him nauseous. He has tried drugs that made him forget the world, but the lows of a withdraw were worse than lows of his own brain playing tricks. He has tried therapies, with educated, smart, intelligent - all these great adjectives and more - men and women who have tried to ‘talk sense into him’, but they all would ask a question that each and every time shattered him to pieces more and more: “Why would you hurt someone you love like this?”

ChangKyun tries to stop crying, but he doesn’t pull away from the embrace, instead he tries to hide deeper in it. Why was he doing it? The answer was simple and sad - because it was one of the two things that kept him together, that kept him at least a little bit human and less than a snake that tries to eat itself. The first one he had promised, no, sworn to never attempt again, because that would solve only his side of the problem. But then again the shine of the blade was blinding and the dark droplets of his blood slowly hitting the bathroom floor looked beautiful. And the sound, the sound was amazing - a rhythmical tap… tap… tap… tap - as each droplet hit the tiles. The voice calling him back that one day was somewhat as beautiful or even more, yet the sound he heard now was better. Ba dum… ba dum… ba dum… ba dum… - slow, steady, strong and safe. That was the sound he loved to hear the most, it was above all his type of morphine, that took every pain away.

“I’m sorry,” ChangKyun murmurs again and he feels yet another kiss on top of his head. There’s a quiet ‘I know. It’s okay,’ and even though half of that is a lie, ChangKyun wishes to believe the lie, to live in it - the lie where his actions, his overpowering demons didn’t hurt and destroy the only cure that made them step away. He desired to live in a world of lie where he had done nothing wrong and knew how to love properly his only true medicine, his only salvation, his Hoseok. Yet he had done this.

His hands begin to shake, another wave of panic induced, disgust filled tears hitting him. He wants to claw his own skin off, gauge his own eyes out, reach for that shiny silver blade again as this was what he had done to the man he loves, to the man who loves him, to his Hoseok. He has turned him into this mess, allowed his demons to devour him with no warning, the red and white stains on the sheets and his thighs only being evidence of that. Yet his Hoseok is holding his hands tightly, kissing his eyes softly and whispering how everything is okay. And ChangKyun fears, his demons, his visions wrapped in fog have turned out to be contagious and invaded Hoseok’s head as well. He hopes it’s not the case.

He is willing to pretend, to pretend until the next meltdown. He will live in the beautiful lie created by both of them and push back the demons to indulge into his personal morphine - the strong arms, the soft kisses, the love filled words and the rhythmical ba dum… ba dum… ba dum… ba dum...

PART 2 - Vicodin