It wasn’t supposed to be this way, Kyungsoo thought. With his head buried in his knees, he listened fearfully as the sounds of clattering glass and angry curses seeped under the door to the bedroom. The plush blankets pooled around his small shaking form while the light wind from the air vents chilled his body. Even when his bones clattered against each other from the icy draft, he couldn’t be bothered to pull them up over his body. He was already numb from the pain throbbing on the side of his cheek, so what could a little gust to him?

-

Kyungsoo and Jongin were the famous high school sweethearts. They got together in the beginning of Kyungsoo’s senior year, the younger being in his junior year. They were everyone’s fantasy of a perfect couple, with kisses between classes and cuddling underneath oak trees during lunch. Jongin was the perfect gentleman and always saw to Kyungsoo’s wants and took care of him like he would his own wife. Jongin showered him in kisses and hugs, usually disregarding the snickers and wolf-whistles that would come from their friends. Kyungsoo was in turn the cute submissive boyfriend. He’d make another lunch for Jongin and spoon feed it to the younger even though Jongin was nearly twice his size. The action itself would make girls squeal in delight and boys turn green and wish to be in the dancer’s place. High school was the golden age for their relationship, because Jongin loved him and he loved Jongin.

On Valentine’s Day, they brought each other chocolates and kissed under the blooming cherry blossoms. They kissed long and slow, taking their time to feel the other person. The wind wrapped them in a protective cocoon, and with Jongin’s arms incasing him he felt the happiest he’d been in a long time.

-

“I love you, Do Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo gasped, pulling back until he could meet his boyfriend’s eyes. Wait, were they still boyfriends? It seemed they’d best be identified as soul mates. The connection they had ran deeper than mere boyfriends, and the fact that Jongin had just told him those three words…

“J-Jongin?”

“I know we’re still young and we have so much of our life to live, but I want to stay by your side forever until death comes to take me.”

Kyungsoo stared up, wide eyes frozen in their comical state. His pale and slender fingers were still intertwined with thick tan ones, and he felt the all too familiar hot breath fan across his forehead. The man before him just proposed to him in the middle of the school yard. His mind drew a blank and his chest tightened, heart quickening. He could feel a rosy blush start to paint across his usually ivory cheeks.

“Jongin, I don’t know what to say. We’re still in high school and we haven’t even graduated.” Kyungsoo whispered, voice pained.

Warm fingers wrapped around his chin and his eyes met molten chocolate irises that burnt hotter than the passion of a thousand white suns. These were the eyes he fell in love with, the ones that pinned him down in bed and loved him every second of the day. “I know. I’m not asking for it now, but later, when we both have graduated and have jobs. The feeling is real Kyungsoo, the beating of my heart tells me you’re the one.” When he didn’t respond, Jongin pulled him back into his arms and hugged him, just a bit too tightly, “Do you love me?”

Kyungsoo wrapped his arms around Jongin’s neck and pressed his head into the taller man’s chest, “I think I do.”

“You think?”

“I don’t know Jongin.” Kyungsoo sighed, “I do feel something more than just like, but I don’t know if it’s love yet.” He confessed quietly. The warning bell for class rung, but both men couldn’t care less about anything than each other. A tornado of pink pedals engulfed them, entangling themselves into their hair. An assault of sweetness and honey attacked their noses and Kyungsoo giggled when one landed on the tip of his eyes.

Jongin smiled fondly at him, eyes disappearing into half crescents on his face. The hold on his waist lessened but didn’t fade.

They were late to class, but once the teachers saw the jovial looks on their faces the detentions were gone with the wind.

-

Jongin worked harder than ever, determined to make Kyungsoo proud in his studies. They saw each other less because of this and one would think they grew further apart, but their phones bills begged to differ. It seemed they would get married to the other students, even their parents who supported them all through the relationship.

The couple seemed perfect. Every time Kyungsoo had the chance, he would grapple at the opportunity to visit the younger on weekends since his college wasn’t too far away. Jongin did all his essays and projects right when they were assigned, so his weekends would be homework free and Kyungsoo focused. Their relationship was as strong as ever.

-

“Tonight’s beautiful, isn’t it ‘Soo?” Jongin his hair gently with one hand, the other wrapped comfortably around the elder’s waist. Kyungsoo nodded the best he could in his half-asleep state of mind. His back was pressed against Jongin’s lean chest and his legs were resting on soft greens, while another pair of larger legs played with his. Small flickering lights buzzed in the air, illuminating the night just enough to let their eyes take in rolling fields of grassland and empty roads.

“It is.” He agreed sleepily. His eyes were drooping faster by the second, and the rhythmic beating near his ear was an effective lullaby. The wind that danced through the night was light and mildly cool and barely tugged at their clothing when it twirled by, leaving them relaxed and airy. “When are you graduating?” Kyungsoo murmured drowsily.

A hand rubbed soft circles on his stomach with enough pressure to make him sigh contently, “In a week. We did CST’s, now it’s just practice for the ceremony.” Jongin whispered. The silence of the night was calming and he didn’t want to shatter it. The soft singing of the crickets was enough to keep the air filled.

Kyungsoo hummed, “I’m going to be sitting right at the front so when you look out into the crowd, I’ll be the first thing your eyes meet.”

Jongin chuckled, voice deep. Kyungsoo finally accepted the waiting darkness that enclosed his vision, the memory of dark eyes and a thick lips lingering in his mind.

“I love you, Jongin.”

-

“You were supposed to come home half an hour ago.”

Kyungsoo looked up, shoe still half way on his foot. Jongin stood with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes set in a cold stare. It wasn’t like the younger; usually he’d welcome Kyungsoo in his arms and hug him and ask how his day was. Kyungsoo frowned as he got his last shoe off and slid his suitcase in the closet, pulling out his phone in the process.

“Didn’t I tell you I was going to get some drinks with some friends from work? We all got a promotion today.” He for his phone in his pocket; tapping some buttons until his call history turned up. Jongin’s name was at the top with at least seven calls to him from Kyungsoo. He flashed the screen to Jongin, who glared at him coldly.

Jongin narrowed his eyes and stalked forward, roughly snatching the phone from the smaller. As he scrolled down, Kyungsoo tried to push his hurt away. What was wrong with Jongin? Why was he acting so cold? It puzzled him; he’d never done anything like this before. Kyungsoo eyed his husband’s posture, taking in tense shoulders through a loose fitting t-shirt and stiff legs in a pair of sweats. He wasn’t that late, only about half an hour. The dancer always came home at unexpected hours because of his job as a dance teacher, so why did he get angry at him for having a little bit of fun?

Hands clasped around his wrist and pulled him back, almost causing him to stumble over his feet. He tried to shrug him off, but Jongin’s grip was like a vice and with Kyungsoo’s strength, he knew he couldn’t win the battle.

“Jongin—Jongin let go, you’re hurting me.” Kyungsoo weakly protested. The blood circulation in his wrists had been cut off; he could feel it. There still wasn’t the feeling of fear because Jongin could never hurt him. The younger swore to never lay a hand on him, even when they fought. They weren’t a flawless couple, they had fights, but they were small and usually ended with either of them apologizing. There was never any violence, only slightly raised voices and rarely ever glares and cold shoulders. He had no reason to fear his own spouse.

“Who the is Junmyeon? And Baekhyun? Are you ing cheating on me?” Kyungsoo winced; Jongin never cursed unless he was really pissed off, and at the moment his eyes were ablaze with such an intensity Kyungsoo had never seen before. It scared even more than the fact Jongin just accused him of adultery.

Kyungsoo bit back a whimper when the grip on his wrist intensified; he could definitely feel a bruise appearing by tomorrow, “They’re just friends! Junmyeon is the boss to my division and Baekhyun works in the cubicle next to me. They both have boyfriends; I’m not…cheating Jongin.” His voice faded out in the end. He felt a sharp pain in his chest that sent chills running through his spin. It made his skin crawl and hair stand on end while it felt like his senses stuck on high alert. He tried to focus on the man in front of him, but the feeling wouldn’t go away, and nor did he know what the feeling was.

Jongin sneered at him and threw his wrist away harshly, “You should’ve told me before I got so worried. I though you got in a car accident or something!” His tone was condescending, as if he was scolding Kyungsoo like he would a child rather his spouse.

“I did…”

“You could’ve texted. You know my phone is always on a low ringer setting. How could you forget something so simple?” Jongin muttered to himself. He stepped back and walked to the living room and sat on the couch, head in his hands.

Kyungsoo watched him sadly, nursing his wrist, now blotched with purple and black. It was a few minutes after when he was running his wrist under a cool stream of water when he realized what the horrible feeling was.

Fear.

-

“Kyungsoo, are you doing alright?” Junmyeon asked, worry evident in the crease of his eyebrows. His hands were folded together over a warm cup of coffee, scarf nearly covering his flawlessly pale face. His eyes were gentle like his personality. He was the kind of person who would help someone regardless of status, , or reputation. Kyungsoo laughed bitterly in his mind; Sehun was lucky to have him.

“I’m fine.” Kyungsoo spoke quietly, careful to not let his own scarf slip from his neck. There was a fresh bruise and Junmyeon would surely comment about that, not that he needed any more worried friends.

Baekhyun had already cornered him at work. He was sending faxes to a couple floors below them when the older accountant came up to him and finally questioned him about his almost constant bandaged state. At that time, he had a particular nasty cut under his eye that he couldn’t cover unless he wanted to look like a pirate, so he was forced to go to work uncovered. Luckily, he managed to slip out of their apartment when he was still asleep.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t tell Baekhyun the truth. That option wasn’t even a last resort. He decided long ago that his secret would follow him to the grave whether or not he wanted it to or not.

He had told Baekhyun he‘d gotten mugged. It was believable, since he usually wore brand name clothing and thugs still wandered around even in the good neighborhoods. When Baekhyun asked him to take his jacket off, he pushed himself closest to the wall and glared at him, pressing his jacket tighter against his body. When Baekhyun stepped forward, he, on impulse, threatened to report ual harassment.

They eventually forgot about the incident but Baekhyun still sent him worried looks every time he came to work with a fresh bandage or cut.

“Are you sure?” Junmyeon followed him out of the coffee shop, shivering when a blast of chilly winter air suddenly hit his face.

“Yeah.” Kyungsoo answered quietly. His brain told him to tell Junmyeon everything. The secrets and the pain were almost too much to bear at this point, and he wanted someone to confide in. But, Junmyeon was his boss. There was that wall in their relationship that couldn’t be moved. He couldn’t push it, and even of Junmyeon reached over, it wasn’t enough. It was too short, he couldn’t reach him. No one could at this point, because he had pushed every one of his friends away.

He was alone.

-

Kyungsoo came to a surprisingly empty apartment. Jongin was usually home before him since his schedule at the dance studio had gotten changed. He cautiously walked forward, setting his briefcase in the closet and slipping off his shoes first.

He walked into the kitchen first. The sink was unused and so was the stove. Kyungsoo stared at the stove and cabinets forlornly. He had used to love to cook, making Jongin’s favorite meal every day. It wasn’t until a while ago Jongin told him his cooking was getting old and would rather order out.

He hadn’t had the heart to pick up a spatula since then.

-

“Kyungsoo, you’re cooking is still the best in the world.”

He blushed and continued to wash the dirtied dishes in the sink. Jongin watched him fondly form the dining table, chin propped up by his hand. His eyes were warm with happiness while his body seemed to radiate joy. He seemed to resemble a small excited child, and Kyungsoo thought it was adorable.

“Don’t flatter me, Jongin.” Kyungsoo giggled when big hands easily slid around his waist and a warm face nuzzled itself into the crook of his neck. He could smell the musky scent of fresh vanilla coming from the other’s hair. “Did you use my shampoo again?”

Jongin murmured something, but it was muffled by the cloth of his shirt. Kyungsoo laughed, wiping his hands on his apron before turning around to kiss the younger on the cheek.

“It’s alright. I like sharing things with you.”

Jongin smiled and leaned down to kiss him on the lips. They kissed for a few minutes, slowly exploring familiar mouths and playing with each other’s tongues. The sound of spit being exchanged and soft moans were music to their ears, until they had to part for air. Kyungsoo lightly panted as he gazed into Jongin’s loving eyes.

“I love you.”

“And I love you too.”

-

The closet door to their bedroom is flung open and hands frantically search for a duffel bag. Clothes got thrown across the room and picture frames get stuffed in impossibly tight places. Tears haven’t fallen because have you ever cried so much you had no more tears left to shed? There was no more he could give, no more he could take. Everything was up in flames, burning down in an inferno inside his heart. The bad memories and the good both caused unbearable tormented pain. The lunch dates in the park, the shouting, the bruises, he couldn’t take it. The air was suffocating, the cage was too small, and he couldn’t break free.

The last of his shirts were stuffed and the zipper barely made it to the other side. He was packed. The only other thing left was the picture frame in the living room. He walked towards it, steps hesitant. It was their first picture they’d taken each other since they’d started dating way back in high school. He was a small senior, shy and introverted. Jongin was an outspoken junior who took from no one and when Kyungsoo was cornered in the locker rooms by some other classmates, it was Jongin who came to his rescue.

Since then, they’d been friends. A little after two months, Jongin asked him out and he said yes. Perhaps the time they had as a high school couple was meant only for high school. So how come no one warned him about the future?

-

“Are we going to stay together forever?” Jongin whispered.

Kyungsoo stared up at him, smiling as his graduation robe flew with the wind, “Forever. I promise.”

At that moment, he really did believe they would stay together forever. Everything was perfect. But in the back of his mind, a small speck of doubt was about to grow into something more than dangerous.

-

After a split second decision, he grabbed the frame and tucked it inside his bag, lips pursed in a thin line. He wasn’t going to turn back. He promised himself as he took everything that belonged to him. All if his pictures were tucked in his jacket, and the ones with him and Jongin he had cut himself out. He hoped the other would understand the message.

Just as Kyungsoo was about to get up from the couch, the front door stuttered and groaned before it was pushed open to reveal an drunk looking Jongin. He walked in, teetering slightly in his steps. The rancid smell of cigars and vodka was vomit inducing to Kyungsoo and it made the urge to bolt for the door increasingly harder to ignore.

-

“Jongin…where were you? It’s almost midnight and you missed dinner.” Kyungsoo stared at Jongin slumped body worryingly. He was leaned against the wall as support, as if his legs couldn’t bear the weight to his body. The smell of burnt nicotine and hard alcohol wafted throughout the apartment, and it made him gag. Where had Jongin been, and why did he smell like he just came out from an 18^th century pub?

“None of your business Kyungsoo.” Jongin snapped. He coughed loudly and groaned, letting his head fall onto the cool surface of the kitchen counter.

“It is by business if you come home looking and smelling like you just drank the entire liquor store!” Kyungsoo pulled Jongin off the counter and with great difficulty, dragged him to the couch in the living room. There, Jongin shrugged himself from Kyungsoo’s grip, slapping the offending hands away. Kyungsoo tried his best to push away his hurt, but he couldn’t just ignore how his husband looked like he would pass out at any second. Steeling his nerves, he went forward and tugged on the taller man’s arm. “Jongin, we have to get you to the bathroom. Come on!” He tugged harder, but the younger had more mass to him, more muscle. Jongin didn’t budge, but in his already aggravated state, Kyungsoo was a fly that kept buzzing in his hear.

“Stop it, Kyungsoo.” He gasped as hands pushed him away, causing him to stumble and hit the floor. Pain erupted where his behind hit the ground and tears threatened to fall from his eyes. No, he couldn’t. Jongin was just drunk. He would be rough, but he wouldn’t intentionally hurt him, right?

“Jongin…I’m just trying to help.” Kyungsoo said quietly. He lifted himself off the floor with effort, wincing as a sharp pain ran up his spine when he stood at his full height. Before his hand could rest on Jongin’s shoulder, the latter grabbed his wrist and tugged.

“I don’t want your ing help ok? Stop trying to be useful when you’re not.” Jongin sneered. The grip he had on Kyungsoo’s wrist was still deadly tight, and the latter could only whimper pathetically as he was pushed and pulled around.

He yelped in pain when his face was pressed against the cushion of the sofa and a warm breath smelling of alcohol whispered in his ear.

“Just be a good little housewife and listen to what your husband says ok?” Jongin pushed him harder into the couch, inserting his knee between the elder’s thighs in the process, “And I say, meet me in the bedroom in five minutes.”

For the first time, Kyungsoo didn’t want to. Kyungsoo didn’t want to be near Jongin. He didn’t want to see him.

-

When Jongin growled at him, Kyungsoo stood up straight and clutched his bag close to his chest as if it would protect him. The feeling of his chest tightening and his breathe leaving him was back. The familiar fear was creeping up on him, like a night creature slowly crawling towards him, teeth bared and hungry. Jongin stared at him angrily, eyes trailing down to his bag.

“What the it that?”

“I’m leaving.” Kyungsoo confessed quietly. Silence rung through the air like a deadly disease, ready to strike and kill at any moment.

“What?”

“I can’t do this anymore Jongin. You come home late every night smelling like puke and you refuse to tell me where you’ve been and it’s getting hard to cover up all the…” Kyungsoo stopped talking, afraid he would choke on his words.  He settled on sighing and taking out some official looking papers from his bag, “And I don’t know what to tell my boss and coworkers anymore. You smell like a different brand of liquor each day and I just…”

“You just what?” Jongin voice was scarily calm. His hands were rolled into tight fists, trembling from the force.  His shoulders were quaking and to be honest, it scared Kyungsoo. They were alone and if anything were to set Jongin off…

“I want a divorce Jongin.” Kyungsoo said. His face was carefully placed in a poker face he crafted himself. He had spoken the forbidden word for married couples and he couldn’t predict how Jongin would react.

The divorce papers were just sent to him that morning. When he received them, he sat down in his office cubicle and just thought. Was there anything he could do to salvage their relationship? He didn’t think so. All the shouting, all the screaming, and the bruises haven’t faded. The relationship had died years before, but he still stayed. He knew he should’ve left when Jongin first hit him, but that night Jongin cried and apologized to him so sincerely that it seemed he was genuinely sorry. He could overlook that. Maybe Jongin was having a bad night and the fight they had only made his mood worse.

-

“Kyungsoo, I’m so sorry. I’m so ing stupid and I hurt you and I’m so sorry.” Jongin sobbed into Kyungsoo’s shoulder, his bigger body wrapped around Kyungsoo’s delicate one. They were in bed and Jongin had been crying for most of the night, wrapped up in Kyungsoo’s arms. A prominent bruise painted his cheek purple and blue and throbbed angrily, even after an hour after impact. Even then, Kyungsoo couldn’t find the mindset to blame the younger.

“Sh, it’s ok Jongin. I’m not mad. We were both angry and you had a headache and I wasn’t helping making matters better.”

Jongin looked up to him, eyes blood shot and puffy. His hair was messed up and his lips were more swollen than usual. His skin was burning and his breathing was stuttering. They were both tired and needed rest, but Jongin looked worse. Kyungsoo felt his forehead with the back of his hand.

“You have a fever. Just lay down and we’ll forget about this and put it behind us, alright?”

Jongin nodded and let Kyungsoo tuck him into bed. Before Kyungsoo could pull away, he tugged on the collar of his shirt and kissed his lips.

Kyungsoo smiled. It was just a onetime thing. It would end here and everything would get better, like it always did.

-

It didn’t end there.

The shouting got worse. Jongin got more violent. More times than not, he would go to sleep with a new bruise blooming across his face or some other part of his body. He never cried anymore, because it didn’t make sense to cry about the same thing every day. And after each day passed, it seemed Jongin seemed to care less and less, even ignoring how he had slept over Baekhyun’s house because he couldn’t stand being in the same room as the younger. He came back home to find Jongin sleeping in a bed of beer bottles and empty packets of cigarettes.

-

“You’re not leaving.” Jongin growled. He took Kyungsoo’s wrist in his hand and pulled him roughly to the bedroom and threw him on the bed. He went to lock the door before Kyungsoo could get up and run for the door.

“Jongin, what are you doing?”

“Look,” Jongin muttered angrily, eyes ablaze, “You can hate me all you want, you can be disgusted with me, but divorce is never an option.” He commanded. His hands were wringing his own hair in frustration, body too tense and stiff. Kyungsoo felt anger bubble in the pit of his stomach. It was like acid, burning away at his insides while leaving a nasty after affect.

“You can’t force me to stay Jongin! I don’t love you anymore and—”

Slap.

“You can’t leave.” Jongin sneered. His hand was stinging, but seeing the hurt and submissive look on Kyungsoo face gave him a sick feeling of satisfaction. All he could feel was the never ending cycle of anger and the pounding in his head from the alcohol was fueling his body with an endless supply of rage.

“I’m going to take a shower and by the time I’m back and you’re still packed, there’ll be hell to pay, got it?” He barked out. Kyungsoo nodded meekly, head bowed down and body slumped over.

Jongin nodded and left the room, slamming the door as hard as he could.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, Kyungsoo thought. With his head buried in his knees, he listened fearfully as the sounds of clattering glass and angry curses seeped under the door to the bedroom. The plush blankets pooled around his small shaking form while the light wind from the air vents chilled his body. Even when his bones clattered against each other from the icy draft, he couldn’t be bothered to pull them up over his body. He was already numb from the pain throbbing on the side of his cheek, so what could a little gust to him?

Ok so I've never really written a fic like this so tell me how you guys liked it! Please comment, it'll make my day brighter <3

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