d004

Jiwon’s eyes lifted from the glass screen of his phone as he heard the familiar scuff of converse on poorly waxed linoleum floors entering their homeroom classroom– her usual time: 6:56. A lazy grin spread across his lips as Irene made her way leisurely over to her assigned seat, regretfully being placed right in front of the infuriating senior who seemed to really enjoy talking to her this last month. When her eyes caught a glimpse of his smirk the hazel orbs rolled back so hard they about fell out of their sockets and Jiwon had to suppress his laugh at her annoyance at him– hitting its peak already and it wasn’t even 7 A.M. yet. A new record for him. Irene dropped her backpack onto the ground rather gracelessly and made it a point to try and ignore him today, clearly not being in the mood for more interrogations. But the week long Spring Break had done little to quell Jiwon’s concerns for his boyfriend/not boyfriend and he’d yet to hear even a peep or see a sign of the red haired sophomore boy. Irene was his only connection. He gently tapped on the girl’s left shoulder blade, glancing at the clock to see that he had a solid 15 minutes to speak to her before their final bell rang.

“What?” She turned around without a fuss or resistance, but the glare in her eyes ripped through Jiwon’s soul and his resolve soon faded. He liked to think of himself as a dominant force– maybe even a commanding person, aggressive, harsh, but Irene had this thing about her that could easily bring him to his knees in, fear? No, it wasn’t fear. It was deeper than that.

“How was your break?” He gave her an actual genuine smile and bit his bottom lip to hold back the chuckle at the look on her face. She was shocked, expecting him to get straight to the point as he usually did. She blinked once, twice and then a third time before the death grip she had on the poor dull green plastic chair slowly loosened as she seemed to be forming an answer in her mind. “F-fine,” he didn’t think he’d ever heard her speech falter like that before, “what is it ya want, trust fund?” She blurted out, tone back to being annoyed, dripping with that familiar disgust.

“First of all, I’d like it if we stopped this hostility. I think I’ve spoken to you enough that I’ve earned you calling me my actual name and not trust fund.” Jiwon rolled his eyes, his patience with her fading quickly at her attitude, this was getting annoying. “You know my name, Irene. And I’m not even rich, fuck off with that stuff okay?” His request came out more pleading than assertive and he really hated himself in that moment.

Irene chewed on her plump bottom lip and nodded, turning more in her chair so her legs were in the aisle between the rows of desks, her eyes trained on him now. “Okay, Ji-Jiwon,” She spoke his name slowly, hazel orbs searching his own onyx ones, a silent gesture to make sure she’d said his name correctly. A ghost of a smile formed on his lips as he nodded in approval after a moment and her eyes lit up briefly, proud of herself– so all those conversations with Byeong and Sejin hadn’t been for nothing. She felt like an accomplished student. “What do ya wanna know?”

Jiwon’s eyes looked her figure over, taking in her appearance which seemed to change drastically for only having been away from her for a week. Her hair was the same color which he was surprised at, quite frankly, but the rest of her was so different. His dark eyes roamed her lithe frame starting with her oddly gaunt face, sunken in eyes complete with puffy eye bags met with sharp, high set cheekbones– those were all familiar, though the eye bags were certainly deeper, more prominent than they had been before. Mid-terms, he’d easily explained away to himself. But her cheeks themselves were chubby– odd? Her body had clearly gotten thinner, her arms themselves even hidden beneath a baggy zip-up hoodie that was definitely borrowed still could easily be seen to have gotten thinner. The jeans she wore barely clung to her legs when a week ago they fit so snug around her much meatier thighs, even her pale skin looked strange. Wait, Irene wasn’t pale. 

Jiwon worried at his bottom lip, she seemed to have gotten a shade or two paler. Her hands looked like they had bruises on them, the faded purple and yellow marks standing out so vividly against the sickly looking skin that stretched over her knuckles. It looked so thin– frail.

Irene lifted her arm up, snapping her finger in front of his face to break him from his trance and when her loose sleeve fell down to the crook of her elbow, he saw it– two small puncture wounds. They were faint but they were there, perhaps highlighted by the purple bruises forming around them. Irene noticed his eyes dart down to them, quickly gathering up the sleeve and pulling on it, covering her whole hand and tucking her hands safely between her thighs. She cleared her throat, moving to turn back and face the front of the classroom before Jiwon grabbed her shoulder, stopping her, his fingers dug into her skin. The muscles underneath his fingers were tense and solid as she sat rigid in her seat and perhaps he had gripped her too hard but he was so angry just then. He didn’t even know why.

“Irene.” He saw her wince at his tone, but she didn’t resist against him, instead she stayed still, lifting her head back up to meet his cold gaze.

Her hair, he noticed now, was a knotted mess, even more so than usual. He wanted to brush it for her just to see some sort of normalcy for the fucking girl. The normally wavy and shining brown locks were a greasy, stringy mess, all tied haphazardly into a half up, half down style bun with loose strands falling out and covering most of her face. Again, he noticed something else that slipped his gaze earlier– more bruises, these one obviously visible, at least to those who were looking. There were two long oval bruises against the side of her neck and another just above her right eyebrow. What the fuck?

“What the fuck happened to you?”

d003

"Listen, Trust Fund, I don't need ya fuckin' charity alright?" Irene scoffed, turning around in her seat and rolling her eyes, leaving Jiwon to stare at the back of her head. Her wavy brown locks were tangled, a particular knot forming just as the crown of her skull as if she hadn't bothered to brush her hair this morning– she hadn't– and like she had had a really restless sleep– she did. With an unusually loud sigh, she tapped her pencil impatiently on her desk, her jaw ticked and she pushed her tongue against the inside of her cheek. She could feel the senior's curious glare through her skull as he observed her disheveled state. They weren't close, and they certainly weren't friends, but she knew Jiwon well enough to know that the guy was observant, and he was inversent enough to know that something was different about her and she wasn't about to lose her job or her get her finger broken just because this little fucker wanted some answers about his twink boyfriend. Goddammit, she really had the resolve of a wet paper bag, but what else could she do?

She turned back around and gave Jiwon another deadly glare, "As for ya boyfriend, Ji," her thick Bronx accent filled the still air between them as she whispered in a low voice, careful that the few students around them couldn't hear, "I haven't seen him around at work lately okay? He stopped showin' up, 'bout a week or so ago. Now," she paused, the air between them growing still again. Her shifty eyes looked around the quickly filling classroom as the students started to pile in, the clock racing towards the start time of their class. She had leaned over the back of her seat now when she faced him, her face just an inch from his, "mention my job to anyone and you'll be sorry, do ya hear me, trust fund?" The small brunette narrowed her eyes at him and Jiwon felt his stomach leap into his chest, he'd never felt so afraid of a woman until that moment.

With a slow nod he tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat as she gave him a mischievous grin, turning slowly back around to face the front of the classroom. The bell ringing just as his eyes focused on a small scar on the back of her neck– was that a brand?

d002

Yoon’s phone began to vibrate just as he walked through his front door. He let out a loud, irritated groan and pelted his keys quite literally across the apartment, just narrowly missing where Kally had been napping, though he had in no way been aiming for her. Kally let out a weak meow as she lazily waddled over towards her owner, brushing against his black slacks and successfully getting her long white hairs embedded into the fine fabric. Yoon sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose as his phone continued to incessantly irritate his skin through the thin layer of fabric of his pants that lay between the phone in his pocket and his thigh. "For fucks sake." He growled out, snatching the thing from his deep pocket and sliding his finger along the cracked glass screen– a crack he hadn't noticed earlier, it must have been from the scuffle. He inwardly groaned and decided he'd deal with that hell in the morning. He didn't bother to look at the caller ID before raising the phone to his ear, because who the fuck else would be calling him at 3 A.M.? “What?” His voice was low and deep, and sounded like it was filled with sleep, though though it had been almost 48 hours since he last slept. There was a thick layer of venom slathered on top of his tone as well and it seeped through the receiver and into the ear of the man on the other end. No doubt his perceptive mind recognizing that venom he knew so well from the older man. 

“Yoonbae-ssi.” A familiar voice chirped out, his normally higher register sounded musky and deeper. He was whispering like he was trying to be quiet but there was an annoyance to his tone. “Guk, what the actual fuck are you doing calling me right now? It's 3 A.M.” Yoon barked out, clearly not in the mood to deal with this, or with anything really. "I'm outside your apartment building and I need to get inside. But your dumbass guard won't let me in!" His annoyance had turned to distress now. “Maybe because it's fucking 3 A.M., Guk-ah.” “I know that, grandpa, I have a fucking watch and a phone. Jesus Christ.” The younger snapped at him and Yoon was thoroughly taken aback. He opened his mouth to speak before closing it and opening it again, having trouble forming words and sentences to communicate over the phone. “Ho-what are you doing here? How did you even find me, Byeongguk?”  “That's not important, j-just let me in, hyung...” There it was again, the distress, the desperation. The tone in his voice changed so fast, it just about gave Yoon whiplash. He sighed, chewing on his bottom lip as he folded his arm over his chest, the other firmly holding his phone to his ear.  

He could hear the boy shuffling on the other end of the phone, loud horns honking as the nightlife of New York City never truly quieted down– especially in the area Yoon lived in. Byeong’s breathing quickened into the receiver, he was making the younger nervous by not answering, by staying quiet and contemplating– thinking. But Byeong was always one to think quickly on his feet, and Yoon was well aware of that, and prepared for it.  

“This fucker doesn't think I know you, but I do! I told him you're my friend. I said we– I said that we're close...” Byeong cleared his throat on the other end. Yoon could tell even without seeing the boy that he was being fidgety. It brought a small smile to his lips, thinking of his small hands playing at the hem of an oversized hoodie he'd no doubt stolen from some recent fling of his, or maybe it was Jiwon’s? Yoon briefly wondered if Byeong had spoken to the delinquent recently. 

“He's making me wait outside the lobby, hyung...” Fuck, there it was again, making Yoon’s heart skip a beat. 

“Oh is he?” He knew that already, he’s heard the sounds of the city behind him of course. But Yoon feigned surprise in his tone anyway, his eyebrows actually physically raising to sell the full effect because dammit, Byeong knew him too well. Besides, he had a feeling though the boy couldn't physically see him, he knew the kind of expression Yoon was sporting at this moment. 

“Y-yeah.” Yoon heard shuffling and some static from the other end, signaling Byeong maybe switching hands or maneuvering in some way. “I'm cold, hyung...” A deep sigh left those plump lips Yoon missed so much, he heard it, he could see it in his mind's eye, "Please...I'm sorry. Please, hyung..." His last words were barely above a whisper, teeth chattering and gritted and Yoon really felt the weight in his heart now. 

Yoon felt his shell cracking and his anger was fading faster than he wanted it to. His venom was sinking away, down through his body and out through his toes into the floorboards. It was gone, with a couple pet names and the soothing sound of his lover's voice, and it was all gone. “I'll be down in a sec.” He hung up. 

~ 

The elevator ride back up to his apartment was awkward and the entire time Yoon was trying to remember why exactly he agreed to let the younger man into his apartment at 3 fucking A.M. again because he really was tired and fuck a good 8 hours of sleep sounded like heaven right about now. He hadn't bothered locking his door so when he just turned the handle and entered without a key, Byeong's brows raised in surprise, “You just leave your door unlocked?” He looked up and down the hallway, “kinda shad-” “I just went down to the lobby to get your sorry ass, Guk-ah. No ones gonna come steal my fuckin' cat.” Yoon grumbled and it was highly out of character but he was grumpy and tired. “Come on, I'm tired.” Byeong's eyes lit up when he saw Kally for the first time and Yoon wanted to groan as he knew instantly that the fat white fluffball would love the stupid hot, sexy, seductive, teasing dancer. As Byeong knelt  down to pet and coo at his cat, Yoon stood with his back against the island counter in his kitchen, tongue in his cheek, his jaw clenched and his arms folded tightly across his chest. The outlines of the muscles in his arms were clearly visible even through the tight black long sleeve shirt he wore and they only strained against the cotton fabric when he clenched his arms tighter over his chest in irritation. He just wanted to get to bed, not entertain a teenager– one he was really angry with at that. “Guk-ah. What the fuck are you doing showing up at my apartment? Ya know, if the cops fin-” “They won't find me here, hyung. No need to worry.” Byeong looked up at him through his hair, the red had now faded into a pretty orangey color and Yoon fucking loved it. He wanted to run his fingers through it and brush it with a comb. He wanted to tug on it and feel how soft the strands felt under his fingertips. In one swift movement, Byeong stood to his feet again, pulling off the olive colored beanie he wore and making a mess of his already messy and fluffy hair and it made Yoon's knees weak. Resisting this kid was really going to be a nightmare. “How are you so sure?” “You really think I have parents out there lookin’ for me?” “Gotta have 'em somewhere, Guk.” “Korea, yeah. They don't even know I'm here.” Byeong looked down at the beanie he held in his hands, his fingers were pale from the cold, though blood had began to rush to them as the sudden heat from being inside shocked the nerves. Yoon felt himself move without thinking as he took the boy's hands in his, making the beanie fall to the floor. He brought the cold skin up to his lips, kissing the pad of each of his fingertips gently, pressing the soft skin to his own chapped lips ever so tender. “Guk-ah.” He whispered out, kissing the last finger before lowering the boy's hands slowly, pulling Byeong closer to him. The boy followed without resistance, because of course he did. Large, strong hands found their way to his cold and puffy cheeks, swollen from lack of sleep, the cold and sickness. Yoon's palm felt warm against Byeong's cheek which was growing hot with their close proximity– a presence he hadn't felt in months. “Guk-ah, baby, talk to me. Come back to me...” Yoon's voice had lowered to a whisper now as he leaned in closer to the younger, their lips so close but not touching. His eyes searched the younger's black orbs, looking for something to hold onto, to pull at and bring the boy back to him. Yoon leaned a little closer now, pressing his forehead against the younger boy’s, placing a chaste kiss against unresponsive lips, “Please,” his voice cracked, wavered a bit as he spoke, “hyung wants you to come back...Guk-ah.”

d001

“ID please,” came a high pitched tone from the dirty blond wiping down the counter in front of Pearl who had just sat at the empty bar. The young girl made an audible groan as she reached into the back pocket of her jeans and fished out her wallet, flashing the bartender who didn't look much older than her her “license”. The bartender gave her a knowing grin before tossing the dirty rag somewhere underneath the marble of the bar and then leaning against it, folding her arms and resting her breasts against them. “So, does ya uncle know ya here?” Irene’s voice sounded lyrical as ever, always catching Pearl in a trance. Pearl gave the bartender a subtle smirk before resting her own elbow on the bar, her chin sitting comfortably in her palm. The girls striking pale blue eyes gave Irene a once over, taking in her appearance for the night- truly appreciating her beauty in the dim glow of the bar lights. She shook her head after a moment of silence between the two- the only noise being the pop music playing from overhead speakers throughout the club. “If he did, he'd have my head and you know it.” “So ya risked ya ass to come see little ol’ me?” Irene smiled and Pearl scoffed, dropping her arm onto the cold surface of the bar. “There's a lotta stuff I’d risk for you, Ree and you know it.” Pearl’s eyes met Irene’s as her fingers brushed along the tanned skin of the bartender’s arms that still rested against the bar.