Minho dabbed the side of Sungmin’s face with a wet towel. The latter hissed spitefully, reaching out to grab the hand causing him pain. “Stop it!” Sungmin snapped, failing to snatch the unrelenting moves.

“Who told you to get into a fight? Why were you fighting anyway?” Minho muttered, gripping the injured boy’s wrist tightly, “You’re usually more level-headed than this aren’t you? Has your evil twin I don’t know about suddenly replaced you?”

“Not funny,” he mumbled. “I just don’t like seeing people force themselves on other people. I’ve experienced it once. I don’t need to see it happening right in front of me.”

A pale blush tinted Minho’s cheeks. He lowered the towel, eyes apologetically looking up at Sungmin. “Damn…sorry, I already forgot that that’s how we met.”

“It’s…not a big deal.”

Well that wasn’t very convincing.

“If it’s still bothering you two years later, it’s a pretty big, ing deal,” Minho slumped forward, hands coming to rest on either side of the toilet seat Sungmin occupied. “I swear I don’t do that anymore.”

“I know you don’t.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“Well how am I supposed to sound convinced?” Sungmin huffed. “You expect me to believe that you changed because you met Ryeowook and me? What a joke. That’s such a cliché.”

Minho didn’t reply just shrugged and went back to cleaning the wound on Sungmin’s face.

Wound? Sungmin stood up, falling forward onto the carpet. A small squeak of pain escaped him before he sat up, struggling to his feet. He grabbed the wall, dragging his weak, heavy body towards the door.

With greatly exerted effort, Sungmin managed to twist the knob and leave the room. A rush of warm, fresh air hit him and he nearly staggered back, surprised by how stagnant the atmosphere had been inside the room. That wasn’t the only surprising thing though. A rush of memories hit him head on – much to his dismay.

Sungmin slammed into the wall, giggling and pushing back against the person who held him back. There were some incoherent, slurred words and then a forceful pair of lips was crashing down on Sungmin’s.

“How is it?” the person kissing him muttered hotly, sending shivers straight down Sungmin’s spine.

He shuddered in real time, shakily making his way down the hall. Within a few moments, the corridor was falling away to reveal a rather spacious living room. There was a mirror hanging from the wall opposite him, right beside a balcony.

Sungmin nearly screamed when he saw his reflection. Slamming a hand over his mouth, the black haired boy strode up to the mirror, momentarily forgetting his aching body.

Deep red and purple bruises littered his throat and chest, many of them disappearing behind the low hanging collar of his shirt. There was also a notable scratched, greenish-black mark on his cheekbone. When his fingers brushed over it, dull pain thudded through. Wincing, Sungmin pulled back, sliding his hand over the flat, dark bites that, in fact, did not hurt one bit. That was certainly the worst part.

Sungmin swallowed hard, tears welling up in his eyes as more memories surfaced in his hung-over mind.

“I heard you have a boyfriend,” the older boy remarked, and slurping at a spot on his neck. Those foreign fingers were moving all across Sungmin’s bare chest, rubbing and pinching here and there, causing moans to fall from those heated lips. “Why aren’t you with him on Valentine’s Day?”

“I…I promised I would come…to this…,” he panted, back arching up as that talented mouth found the sweet spot on his throat.

Chuckling, the University student bit down hard, making a deep mark there. “Don’t worry, we can stop when you want,” he stated casually.

“Mm…hmm…,” Sungmin turned his head away, nails digging into the fabric of the other person’s shirt.

At this point, he was sitting on the floor, body having collapsed from the truth. Tears dripped onto the carpet, leaving wet stains. Sungmin didn’t bother to cover his face, body trembling from guilt. Why had he done that? Being drunk wasn’t an excuse.

He had willingly hooked up with someone that wasn’t Ryeowook! How was he supposed to face the person he had said he loved?

“You’re awake?”

Sungmin turned around, abruptly bursting into loud sobs at the sight of Minho.

Alarmed, the tall boy crouched down, pulling Sungmin into an awkward, hasty hug. “W-What’s wrong? Why are you crying so much?” he asked quickly, gently the soft hair. “Hey, hey, it’s okay!” he attempted, stuttering and rubbing the boy’s back.

“No it isn’t!” Sungmin wailed, clinging to his friend (?). “I c-cheated on Ryeowook…! I cheated on him with Jonghyun-h-hyung r-right?” He nuzzled his head into Minho’s chest, trying to ease the renewed pain. “A-And my head hurts so much…I can’t t-think straight…”

If it were any other situation, Minho probably would’ve teased the smaller boy, told him how cute he was when he was upset and crying. But it was a serious dilemma. Damn. He pushed Sungmin back a bit, eyes roaming over the map of hickeys.

Anger and what appeared to be clear jealousy shot through his body. Shoving it all down, Minho wiped away the tears, saying, “You didn’t hook up with Jonghyun.”

“But I did! Look at this!” he pointed at the marks, red face twisting in frustration.

Minho bit his lip, thinking fast for something to say. Then, in a flurry, the solution hit him. Ice seeped into his blood as a slow, meaningfully bitter smirk crossed his lips.

Leaning closer to Sungmin, he pressed the palm of one hand against the warm, trembling cheek. “I forced myself on you last night.”

“…no but in my memories—”

Minho shut the other boy up with a rough kiss, dragging Sungmin’s surprised mouth open to slip his tongue inside. Seconds passed as the heated touch went on, neither side doing anything to make it stop.

Eventually, Minho backed away though, dark eyes impassively gazing down at Sungmin. “Isn’t that familiar? Or do I have to call you ‘babe’ to make you remember?”

Crimson colored Sungmin’s face as he wiped his mouth, hate morphing the liquid doe eyes. “You…you really did that?” Disgust drenched every word, slowly sinking into the pours of his longstanding emotions. “You would hurt me like that…?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, looking away casually, “you said it yourself last night. How could your appearance in my life…actually change me that much?” my life, my life, and my life again…

Instead of a slap, or more crying, or even yelling, Minho found himself sprawled across the living room floor, holding his pounding, possibly bruised jaw. The rather effeminate boy was standing over him, white knuckled fist still tightly clenched after delivering a ruthless punch.

“Who do you think are?!” Sungmin shouted. “All this time you were just pretending to care about Ryeowook and me? How could you do that? Just how…”

Minho said nothing, staying on the ground, flexing his jaw.

“Whatever,” Sungmin muttered, staggering towards the door, trying to keep his mind focused on getting out of there. He paused at the doorway, his voice drifting through the silence, “Don’t come near me or Ryeowook ever again. You’re a ing douche. You’re worse than Kyuhyun even.” Shaking his head slowly, Sungmin threw the door open, shoving past a surprised Key.

The latter walked into the apartment building, rushing over to where Minho was still collapsed on the floor. “What happened…?” he asked, gingerly touching the swollen red mark on his lover’s face.

“Just doing Jonghyun-hyung a favor,” Minho mused humorlessly, eyes vacantly cast down.