TW: Slight mention of distorted body image 

“This is –” The officer tries to untangle the situation.

The man standing at the doorway has a jawline that could cut, and eye bags so dark they look like shadows in alleys. His hair is shaggy, pulled towards the back in a sloppy ponytail, but there’s strands falling about his face and cascading down his neck. His knuckles are wrapped in cloth that anyone can tell was once white (not dirt grey with streaks of red), and his coat looks at least two sizes too big. Sanghyuk ducks his head down further.

“I can introduce myself, officer. I’m not some damned invalid.” The man grins, and its a Cheshire sort of grin: all teeth and no heart, one that makes Sanghyuk’s stomach turn. “I’m Lee Jaehwan. Mm, who might you be?”

Jaehwan feels like a Dom, like a Sir. His voice is husky and commanding, and his words curl like he knows exactly where in the world he stands, knows exactly what to do to get what he wants. He wouldn’t have qualms about hurting anything. Anyone.   

Sanghyuk is not trained to ignore a Dom. He’s not about to get hurt; not now, not in front of Hongbin.

“I’m Han Sanghyuk. Sir.” He says, and trying to make his tone submissive and polite feels like walking through half-set cement. He’s usually better at this. He’s out of practice.

“Now, now,” Jaehwan purrs. “No need for all that Sir bull. I’m just like you… And I’m definitely not a Dom, that’s for sure.”

Jaehwan is standing a few feet away, but Sanghyuk feels like he’s being violated. Jaehwan is taking, taking, taking, tearing apart his skin, and he can’t do anything about it. Because they’re not the same, the both of them. They are worlds apart.

Universes apart.

It’s a different kind of energy. He can’t put his finger on it.

“Lee Byunghee right?”

Jaehwan waits for an answer, but Sanghyuk is too jolted into shock to do anything. A run of static goes through his body. There’s no way – He – He isn’t – He can’t know –

“Did he make you worship his feet? It was, like, his favorite or something. Kinda sick.” Jaehwan says idly, picking at his nails. “Then he made you say you liked it, right?”

And there’s their difference. Where Sanghyuk tries to hide from these things, Jaehwan embraces them. He talks about it like his body is a weapon – Sanghyuk, until now, cannot look at his own torso.

Yet in an odd way, Sanghyuk has a feeling that Jaehwan doesn’t have the fight in him anymore. Like, even if Jaehwan doesn’t seem to be running in the way Sanghyuk is, he still is… just from something entirely different. It’s undeniable.

“Unless you actually enjoyed it.” Jaehwan smiles, and Sanghyuk is on the alert at how the man has been moving closer and closer, stride by stride. “Then that’s a bit messed up.”

Sanghyuk flinches. His face is starting to burn, creeping up from his neck. Jaehwan stops to lean on a table. He could reach out to hit him now if he really wanted to.

“Aw, that’s so cute. He turns red!”                                                     

Hongbin places a reassuring hand on Sanghyuk’s neck as the boy turns further into his shoulder. He’s shaking like there’s a scream contained in his muscles.

“Ah, hello there,” Jaehwan chuckles. “So you’re the one ing him, aren’t you.”

Sanghyuk wants to hide from the thorns of Jaehwan and his nonchalance and his uncaring hurricane words. His mind can’t stop shouting at him to run, but the message must get cut off halfway, because his body cannot seem to move. It’s like his whole soul is frozen shut; Jaehwan’s chilliness goes deeper than skin deep, and Sanghyuk can’t remember if the room is cold or not.

He wants to throw up. (He probably would, if he wasn’t leaning on Hongbin)

“It’s not like that.” Hongbin insists, with a bite to his words.

“You’re not ing him?” Jaehwan says incredulously. “But we’ve had such good teachers. I’m sure he could show you a fun time.”

Then he turns to Sanghyuk, eyes burning into his. “Or you could show me a fun time.”

At that, Sanghyuk blanches. He scrambles out of Hongbin’s arms, and knocks into Jaehwan on the way out, his skin crawling.

***

Hongbin and Minki find him in the toilet, dry heaving and gagging on his own spit. From the back, it looks like Sanghyuk is nothing more than a mere child, except the hands that grip the edge of the toilet seat are gnarled with scars.

Hongbin drops to his knees, bones hitting the tiled floor with a large tick, and immediately goes to rub Sanghyuk’s back. There are really grotesque sounds bouncing off the walls of the toilet, and Sanghyuk tries not to let it get to the point where bile burns his throat (though he’s not sure if he has control over anything anymore).

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said yes to you meeting him.” Minki cuts in anxiously. “I didn’t know he was going to be… like that.”

Sanghyuk shudders, his shoulders cramping up with the force of puking, as if he’s trying to say what can you do, right?

“You don’t have to talk to him anymore.” Hongbin’s expression is steel cold. “We’ll go home.”

Minki catches Hongbin’s eye and nods before turning to leave, knowing how intimately private this moment must be. “I’ll finish up the rest of the work here.”

By the time Sanghyuk is done feeling like he has all his bones out of him, he collapses against the wall, chest heaving. There is something twisting and crushing his gut, like there’s poison trying to be purged from the inside out.

“Let’s go home, Hyuk-ah,” Hongbin whispers, trying to distract Sanghyuk from something other than lightly banging his head against the wall.

Sanghyuk doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

“Let’s go home.” Hongbin tries again, when there’s no response.

“Hyung, we’re the same.” Sanghyuk finally says, and there’s a small manic laughter that escapes. “We’re the same – Jaehwan-ssi and I… We’re exactly the same.”

“W – What do you mean?”

“We’re the same.” Sanghyuk really starts to laugh now, his head tipped back and cheeks rounded. “We’re the same. Just things for , hyung. Nothing more… Nothing more. Told you that you could ask me for it anytime you wanted, didn’t I, hyung?”

It feels like the wind has been knocked out of Hongbin.

Eventually, he gathers enough bravery to say, “You’re nothing like him.”

And it’s not that he doesn’t believe what he’s saying. He does, because there is no way that what he saw in Jaehwan would manifest in Sanghyuk. They are two completely different people. But he doesn’t know how to articulate that without it sounding confusing, like everything else has been so far.  

“C’mon,” Hongbin grimaces at the ache in his knees as he stands up. “Let’s just head home and rest up, okay? You’ll feel better after a nap.”

Sanghyuk breathes out. He’s too tired to protest, so he just nods his head weakly, allowing Hongbin to pull him to his feet.

He’s boneless, spiritless. Spineless.

***

For the first time since he started eating, Sanghyuk feels self-conscious about Hongbin’s arm wrapped around his waist. He imagines the fingers digging into the fat that swallows them whole as he stumbles through the parking lot, leaning his head on Hongbin's shoulder. 

Sorry this took so long. I've been so terribly busy. 

xx, luneboy