#seungsoo lim

[intotheroaringverse]

Seungsoo Lim: I don't need love. It's my superpower.

Aviso de gatilho: menção a alienação parental e pensamentos suicidas.

Nice, 2024.

Aquela casa era um dos motivos de ódio e pavor de Seungsoo, mas ele tinha se acostumado com ela, porque era tudo o que tinha. Todo fim de dia, ele saía do escritório da Suprema Corte Bruxa e viajava de Paris até Nice porque ele sabia que tinha aquele encargo para toda uma vida, ou ao menos até que não fosse mais preciso, que ela não fosse mais uma responsabilidade sua.

— Mr. Lim, como foi o dia? — o empregado perguntou assim que passou pela porta.

— Mais do mesmo, na verdade. Onde ela está?

— Na área do deque, senhor.

— Obrigado, janto em uma hora.

Com as mãos nos bolsos, Seungsoo andou até a área da casa onde era possível ver a praia. De manhã, era quente, caloroso e com um toque de animosidade. Mas passavam das 19:00 e o vento frio que vinha da maré obrigava qualquer um a se encolher. A figura feminina de cabelos escuros estava sentada em uma cadeira de balanço onde geralmente ficava para tomar sol no amanhecer do dia, resmungando com ela mesma.

— Não acha que está muito tarde para ficar fora de casa? — Seungsoo perguntou a ela, em um tom de voz gentil.

— Está estrelado. Alguns anos atrás eu promoveria uma festa, mas ninguém me deixa fazer mais nada nessa casa — a mulher reclamou. Então olhou para seu rosto, como se procurasse alguma coisa. — Precisa pegar sol. Está ficando pálido. Parecer doente não faz bem para a sua condição.

— E qual seria a minha condição, mãe?

— Você é um Lim — ela o lembrou, antes de apertar o casaco contra o corpo, balançando a cabeça. — Os Lim são saudáveis. Toda uma linhagem de bruxos extremamente visuais, competitivos e astutos, isso que vocês são. Deveria praticar esportes. Deveria nadar. Todos os Lim nadam.

— O pai não sabe nadar — comentou, contemplando a maré batendo com força na areia, se esforçando para falar aquilo sem sentir o peso que era tocar naquele nome.

— Sim, ele não confia nem mesmo na água. — Passaram alguns minutos antes que ela dissesse: — Que horas ele vem?

Era um daqueles dias.

— Vocês se divorciaram, omma. Foi por isso que viemos para a Nice. Porque vocês se divorciaram.

A razão atravessou o rosto da mais velha de imediato, a fazendo balançar a cabeça, abrindo a boca e fechando.

— Certo. Eu devia tomar aquelas medicações, essas coisas estão começando a escapar da minha cabeça de novo — ela respondeu, ficando de pé. Apertou o ombro dele sutilmente. — Está na hora de dar menos trabalho para você, Seungsoo.

— É mesmo? — ele perguntou, sem conseguir decidir se estava falando aquilo em gentileza ou em ironia.

— É seu dever casar com uma boa mulher coreana em breve. Já está passando da idade. — A mulher afirmou, se encaminhando para dentro da casa. — Você me deve uma linhagem.

Seungsoo apenas balançou a cabeça concordando. Claro, a linhagem. Era por isso que ele estava ali.

Nice, 2017.

— Você vai amar Nice, é ensolarado, as praias são limpas e há muito ar puro para aproveitar. Nada desse céu cinzento, você vai ver o que é um amanhecer de verdade.

Seungsoo apenas concordava com a cabeça, porque não tinha realmente o que dizer à mãe, àquela altura. Nos espólios do casamento, seu pai ficou com a casa e ela com o herdeiro da família. Seus irmãos tinham doze e onze anos, estavam começando ainda na escola e seria tão mais fácil para se adaptarem a outra rotina, mas não. Ele era quem tinha que se virar, mesmo que estivesse prestes a fazer os NOMs. Os empregados carregavam as suas coisas para dentro do quarto e a mãe disparava ordens para cima e para baixo, se estabelecendo naquele casarão enorme apenas para eles dois.

— Acho que vou dormir um pouco… a viagem foi cansativa — mentiu a ela, porque na verdade ele queria ficar sozinho.

— Tudo bem. Mais tarde eu introduzo você aos seus tutores — a mais velha respondeu, o fazendo virar a cabeça, assustado.

— Tutores?

— Você precisa aprender francês se vai morar nessa cidade — ela respondeu, o encarando com certa incredulidade, antes de acrescentar: — E precisa de um ensino de qualidade. Algo que Beauxbatons nunca será capaz de proporcionar a você.

Aquilo tinha, sim, mexido com seus medos. Ele iria prestar o vestibular sem nenhuma experiência escolar em um país novo? Ela estava maluca?

Mas bastava olhar mais atentamente para Yerim Son que ele sabia da resposta. Ela não estava em seu perfeito estado desde o momento em que descobriu a traição de seu marido, muito menos quando descobriu que ele tinha tido outro filho nessa traição. E tudo isso com uma mulher estrangeira… Uma inglesa que veio até seu país tirar tudo o que ela tinha conquistado por anos. Alguma coisa tinha fritado a cabeça de sua mãe depois daquela humilhação com histórico de anos e Seungsoo estava agora sozinho lidando com ela.

— Claro, omma, como preferir — respondeu, concordando com um gesto de cabeça.

Nice, 2024.

No silêncio do seu quarto, podia ouvir o som da maré acertando as pedras ao redor da casa. Ele odiava aquilo. Odiava a maresia, o ar salgado, o som constante da natureza ao seu redor. Odiava o batalhão de empregados para cima e para baixo sendo sua companhia constante e as únicas pessoas com que se comunicava em coreano. Odiava não poder ir até Cannes ver os irmãos, porque sua mãe não queria que ele tivesse a menor chance de conviver com "os traidores" que eram seu pai e sua madrasta.

Odiava o fato de que ele faria o que ela quisesse porque ela escolheu ele para si e tinha reforçado aquela casa para atender a todas as suas necessidades, e odiava mais ainda por saber que não era sua culpa.

Seungsoo fazia tudo por conta da obrigação e apenas por isso. Porque não há amor quando sua mãe o tira de casa como uma punição para a traição do marido. Apenas uma obrigação, de continuar seguindo em frente, com o perturbador som da maré enchendo seus ouvidos, sendo um chamado bastante presente para se entregar e encerrar aquela dívida que tinha com os Lim de uma vez por todas.

#Spotify #seungsoo lim

[garotadoinverno]

Nunca iria se cansar de dizer em como conhecer Seungsoo foi algo extremamente agradável em sua vida. Dentre todo o caos e traumas que tinha, ele parecia saber exatamente como ouvir e ajudar ela. Quando aceitou se casar com ele, parecia maluquice na visão da maioria das pessoas, mas para Lenalee, tudo parecia tão certeiro. Ela realmente queria estar ao lado dele e ser sua esposa.

Tinha conseguido o emprego em Beauxbatons, o que facilitava sua vida ao lado de Lim, já que se mudou para a França. Mas o trabalho dele o deixava tão ocupado, que as vezes, ela mesma precisava cuidar das saudades que sentia dele, quando chegava muito mais cedo em casa.

Foi aí que seus dedos vieram ajudar. Lenalee abriu o roupão que usava, depois do banho, e massageou em círculos a parte interna das coxas, enquanto pensava em todas as coisas obscenas que seu marido poderia fazer com ela, deixando o indicador afundar em sua buceta. Movia o dentro para dentro e para fora, em um ritmo constante, enquanto gemidos escapavam falando o nome de Seungsoo. Inseriu o dedo médio em seguida, revirando os olhos com a sensação dos dígitos esfregando o ponto exato que ela precisava, enquanto mordia o próprio lábio inferior.

Infelizmente, os dedos dela não conseguiam ir tão fundo quanto os dele, mas estava prestes a atingir o orgasmo, quando acelerou os movimentos dos dedos e começou a sentir o líquido espesso escorrendo por suas coxas, enquanto ficava ofegante.

De repente, a porta se abriu e ela se deparou com a silhueta de um homem de 1.80 que ela conhecia tão bem. Um sorriso cresceu em seu rosto, mantendo as pernas abertas, enquanto ele se aproximava.

— Eu senti tanto a sua falta, de você me fodendo, que eu precisei cuidar disso, mas eu quero tanto que você termine de bagunçar comigo.

As mãos dele mantiveram as pernas dela separada, enquanto sorvia todo o líquido que estava espalhado por ali.

Quando ele mergulhou entre suas pernas, afundando o rosto em sua buceta, brincando com seu clitóris, ela gemeu tão alto, que se mais alguém estivesse pelos arredores daquele cômodo, iria ouvir.

O maior parecia não se importar com o quão alto ela gemia, e quão forte, ela estava puxando seus cabelos loiros. E quando a língua dele circulava contra o clitóris sensível e super estimulado, lágrimas começaram a escorrer pelos olhos dela, mas era tão bom.

— Eu v- — A frase saiu cortada pelo gemido que escapou. — Gozar.

— Eu vou gozar de novo. — E isso só fez ele chupar sua buceta com mais intensidade, explorando com a língua e sabendo exatamente como fazer ela chegar ao limite. Um nó parecia se formar em seu estômago, que foi se desfazendo, conforme ela se desmanchava novamente, dessa vez na boca dele, enquanto seus dedos ainda se prendiam aos fios do cabelo dele, como se ajudasse ela a controlar todas as sensações que inundaram seu corpo.

Sua respiração estava pesada, o corpo dele ainda estava entre suas pernas. Mesmo sem forças direito, inclinou o tronco para frente, segurando o rosto dele com ambas as mãos. — Você foi incrível, babe. Eu só gozo desse jeito com você. — Selou os lábios aos dele, descendo uma das mãos até o cós da calça dele. — Mas eu preciso muito sentir você me fodendo igual uma vagabunda, me faz gritar ainda mais enquanto minha buceta aperta seu caralho enorme. — E quando o corpo dele se tornou uma sombra acima do seu, ela só pensava o quanto queria levar uma surra de rola daquele homem, até não ter mais forças para se mexer naquela cama.

#Lenalee

[sourkive]

012 : MUSIC TO FUCK BOYS TO.

Starring: Jade Lim.

Featuring: Song Taejun, Kim Seungsoo.

Summary: The tower falls.

Word Count: 4k.

CW: Smut, investigation into sexual harassment, cheating, threats.

“Jade,” Seobin had said. “Do you promise you’re being honest with me?”

The country had fallen deep into the grasp of summer. Jade had grown up in sunshine, so a little bit of heat should be a cakewalk, but he supposes he’s acclimatized to south korea quite nicely by the sheen of sweat across his forehead, sticking strands of his bangs to his forehead as he messily pushes them out of the way. The large, mint green tinted sunglasses perched upon his nose do little to protect him from the sun, not least by the way he peers over their frames, but they’re fashionable and green, so he’ll wear them. 

They’re the only thing he’s wearing. 

He lays back on the expensive, pointlessly luxury sun-lounger, one hand behind his head, and looks down at Song Taejun between his legs. 

The good thing about Taejun’s too big house in his stuffy gated community was that it was miles until he stumbled upon a neighbor. Jade had taken a liking to summertime in Taejun’s expansive garden. he liked to have Taejun make him pitchers of cocktails as he sunbathed naked. He liked floating around in the pool and playing The Velvet Rope over the speakers as he tried not to ash his cigarettes on the inflatables. In the evenings, he liked to sit outside in his underwear and one of Taejun’s t-shirts, looking at the vogue runway app on his phone or scrolling seven months down Daichi’s instagram. Jade found himself thriving as he basked in the sun of his boyfriend’s gross decadence.

Taejun had joked that Jade liked his garden more than he liked him in the summer. Jade had responded ‘in the summer?’ and didn’t really know if he was kidding or not. 

They’d been annoying each other more than they’d been getting along, lately. Jade remembers the beginning, when they’d walk around Seoul and hold hands under the security of nighttime. He once thought that Taejun was a knight in shining armour, finally a man who loved him truly and wholly and had come to sweep him off of his feet to a lifetime by the pool. 

Jade had been with Taejun now long enough to see the bulk sum of his flaws. But he loved him. Even when Taejun was driving him up the wall, when he was getting jealous of men Jade barely even knew, when his mean streak cut out whenever Jade started being difficult, Jade loved Taejun - Jade loved Taejun even when he was twenty minutes into bragging about his stupid fucking sports car. Jade had always loved cars, been easily seduced by men with nice ones, even, but song Taejun had taken that interest and trampled it deep into the soil. 

But Jade had still listened to the story of some smooth turn Taejun had made around some road, or something, with an attentive spark in his eyes and he’d nodded at all the right moments, because he’s loyal. He’d sat for twenty three minutes, naked in the sun (save for his sunglasses,) still glistening with oil, and listened to Taejun talk about his fucking car and spare nary a glance at him in the process. It wasn’t exactly how he’d planned his day off. 

Jade had always been too pretty to bother with subtlety, so as soon as he scored a lull in the conversation, he’d simply said; “You should suck me off.” 

Jade loved Taejun and, when they were on each other's wavelength, he loved sex with him too. He was objectively the best Jade had ever had. Maybe it’s a natural talent or maybe it’s pure experience. Either way, Taejun, who Jade really did think was probably the most handsome man he’d ever seen in real life, looked one hundred percent hotter with his lips wrapped around Jade’s cock. 

Jade’s stomach twitches as Taejun slowly takes him in. He'd spent at least a minute lapping at Jade’s head, or dipping down to graze his tongue across Jade’s balls. Jade was beyond hard at this point, and he let out a low moan as his cock hit the back of Taejun’s throat, his lips tightening firmly around his width. 

Jade watches him as he hollows his cheeks, spluttering a little as he pushes Jade down still, until he is deep in his throat. Taejun’s eyes flutter up to meet Jade’s with a purposeful gleam in them, and Jade can take a hint, so his hands wrap in Taejun’s hair and grip onto him tightly as he begins to thrust his hips. 

Taejun chokes, his throat making filthy, wet noises each time Jade thrusts up into it. Jade knows that he’s pushing Taejun’s limits, but a fiery determination burns in Taejun’s eyes and he’s yet to hit Jade’s thigh, which is their signal to stop. 

Jade’s hands ball into fists, tugging Taejun’s hair harshly as he holds him steady in place. the angle is a little awkward, Taejun half-off the bottom of the lounger and Jade’s legs open at either side of it, but he can use the leeway of his feet on the ground to angle his hips, fucking deep into Taejun’s throat. Taejun gags around him, and his hand is only halfway to Jade’s thigh when Jade lets up, letting go of his hair and letting himself pull off to catch a breath. 

A thick chain of saliva comes with him, though, connected from the tip of Jade’s cock to Taejun’s bottom lip. It breaks as he pulls away, dripping down his chin, but Taejun doesn’t pull away for long. he opens his mouth, tongue spreading out as he tilts his head to the side and licks messily down Jade’s length, kissing loosely back up and taking his head back between his lips.

Jade groans again, leaning back and allowing his eyes to flutter closed as Taejun works him, bobbing his head and fucking him in and out of his throat. He moves quickly and intensely, and Jade is starting to feel his abdomen tightening when Taejun finally pulls off again with a slick pop. 

Jade peers down at him and he grins wickedly, pulling himself up onto the lounge properly to straddle Jade, leaning down to take him in a searing kiss. Jade kisses back eagerly, wrapping an arm along the span of his toned back to pull him closer. Taejun ruts his hips downward, and Jade shivers as he feels the weight of Taejun’s hard cock pushing against him through his swimming trunks. 

“Wanna go upstairs?” Taejun asks. Jade shakes his head. “No?”

“No.” Jade grins. 

He takes him once more in a kiss, his hand reaching down, pushing under the waistband of Taejun’s trunks and gripping one of his plump ass cheeks tightly. 

“I’m gonna fuck you right here.”

“Do you want to have kids?” Taejun asks. They’re sitting out by the pool still, but the sun has set. Jade kicks his feet slowly in the water, liking the resistance against his movements. 

It was a good day. They’d fucked a lot and then Taejun had made a caesar salad. They had been good. They hadn’t upset each other. It was the type of day that Jade stuck around for.

“Like, right now?” Jade asks. “I think it’s too late, they’re already leaking out of you.” 

Taejun snorts, knocking his shoulder against Jade’s. “I'm being serious.” 

Jade twists his mouth up. “I don't know,” he says. “I think so, but I'd be scared. I don't know how to be a dad, I never had one.”

“You'd be fine.” says Taejun. he looks up at the sky, but Jade just stares at him. “You had a mom. I don't think it’s that different.”

“I guess.” Jade sighs. He wouldn’t know. Sometimes he wonders what parts of him went missing in the lack of a father, but he has nothing to compare his life to. It had been levied against him, in the past, in cruel remarks; ‘maybe if there was a male presence in your life you wouldn’t be such a fucking fairy.’ Jade doesn’t tend to pay that any mind. He likes being a fucking fairy. 

“Do you want to get married?”

He hates when Taejun plays hypotheticals with him, because ultimately, he knows it’s only going to come true for one of them. He looks at the lump of Taejun’s Adam’s apple, the smooth but firm curve of his chest, his big arms. The big ears that endear him so much to Jade, the shaggy bangs falling below his brows and always getting into his big puppy dog eyes. Jade looks at him and his entire chest swells in fondness and pain because he loves him so much and in the rare, fleeting moments in which he’s honest with himself, he knows that this man is going to break him into a thousand pieces and move on. 

It’s all so painfully, embarrassingly obvious. Jade is just a quarter-life crisis and Taejun likes him because he’s young, hot, stupid and slutty. He'll expire in Taejun’s eyes by the time he’s twenty five, and then Taejun will find someone his own age. Someone respectable and sophisticated, who’s greatest accomplishment isn’t nailing a jump split on television. He’ll find someone worthy of the title husband. That's who he’ll have kids with, that’s who he’ll sell his stupid mansion and his baseball toys for and move to the suburbs with. Taejun is going to have a perfect life, one day, and he’s going to look back on these years, perhaps with a little guilt, and he’ll remember how good it felt to be fucked on his sun-lounger but he won’t quite be able to picture Jade’s face anymore. 

“I hope I get the right to.” Jade deflects. He watches the water ripple against his ankle, leaning his head on Taejun’s shoulder. 

“Positive thinking.” Taejun counters. “This is a future where you can. Do you want to marry me?” 

Jade is quiet for a second. and then he laughs, pulling his legs from the water and standing up. “This is the part where I sing ‘Somewhere That’s Green,’ right?”

Too much sarcasm drips from his tongue and he winces at himself as he kicks his feet back into his slides and makes his way over to the wooden table on which he’d left his cigarettes. He hears Taejun twist, and he keeps his back to him as he battles with his lighter to conjure enough of a spark to catch. 

“Well, you don’t have to be a dick about it.” 

“You’re not gonna marry me.” Jade says, finally lighting his cigarette. He takes a deep draw, finally turning to look at Taejun on his exhale and meeting a pair of sad, confused eyes. “You really imagine a future with me?”

“Of course I do.”

“And at our wedding,” Jade says, taking another draw of his cigarette. “Do I get to invite any guests, or will I still be keeping it all secret from my friends?” 

There's a long silence, and then Taejun says, “you can be really immature sometimes, Jade.” 

“Well,” Jade shrugs. “I'm seven years younger than you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I mean… ninety-nine minus ninety-two-”

“No, what do you actually mean, Jade?” 

Jade places his cigarette between his lips, never breaking eye contact with Taejun as he sucks in, something inside him bubbling to a boil. He doesn’t get angry, though, because unlike Taejun, he can control his anger. He speaks as casual as if he’s noting the weather. “I think you’re using me to feel good about yourself, because you’re going to be thirty next year and you have to enlist in a couple of months, and I'm twenty-two and not a citizen.” 

Taejun looks hurt. “Why would you think that?” 

Jade leans his hips against the table. He doesn’t know why he looks down, but he sees the Nike logo on his slides and he blurts it out before he can stop himself. 

“Did you fuck Tetsuo, hyung?” 

The silence probably only lasts a few seconds, but they drag on for hours. Taejun’s face looks offended, but Jade can see the guilt in his eyes and it tells him everything he needs to know. 

“What?” Taejun finally spits out. 

Jade tries to keep it together, tries to stop his hand from shaking as he flicks the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray. “You picked me up, like, two months ago and I walked past him. He'd obviously just had sex and he was wearing your Nike hoodie.” 

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“You fucked Tetsuo.” Jade says, in a factual tone. He betrays no emotion. “Fucked him, dropped him off at our building. Told me to come out. Let us pass each other. Picked me up. And then took me home and fucked me too. Right?” 

Taejun looks like a cornered animal, his big, pretty eyes begging for mercy, but Jade stares him down. When he realises that Taejun isn’t going to speak, he keeps going.

“I think the most insulting part of all of this is that, after all the time you’ve spent with me, you still fucking think I’m stupid.” 

It’s late enough now for the crickets to start their chorus. They don’t change their tone but the longer Taejun sits there, awkwardly twisted around, feet still dangling over the edge of the pool, Jade swears that they reach a crescendo. 

“I'm sorry.” Taejun says, eventually.

And the confirmation is the final bullet. Jade physically feels his heart break, splintering down to the ends of every last vein in his body. He chokes out a gasp, stubbing out his cigarette and roughly swallowing down the lump that immediately forms in his throat. It doesn’t stop his eyes from flooding, though. 

“Why?”

“I don’t-”

“No, tell me why.”

Taejun takes a deep breath. “I guess… because I could.”

Jade clasps a hand over his mouth as a sob pulls itself past his facade and rattles his body. A tear falls through his fringe of lashes, twinkling down his cheek and burning a path. “Oh,” is all he can bring himself to say. 

“Jade-” Taejun says, but Jade just splays his hand out, shaking his head. He just drags his feet back into the house, pulling his jade-coloured glasses off of his forehead and back over his eyes. 

“Hey, Jade!” Ikumi greeted him at the studio break room, making a beeline for the coffee machine. Jade had been sitting at the table for about fifteen minutes just to get out of the room; away from Harin in work mode and Minwoo’s perfectionism reaching drill sergeant status. “Has Seobin spoken to you guys yet?” 

“No?” That had gotten Jade’s attention. “What about?” 

Ikumi turned to lean in the corner of the counter, tucking her pink hair behind her ear. “It was odd.” she’d said. “He took us into his office one by one and asked us about, like, if any of the staff or producers have been inappropriate with us or if we’ve ever been made to feel unsafe or harassed at Valentine.” 

“Really?” Jade asked, feeling his mouth go dry. 

“He’ll probably get you guys in soon. Ahin said he’s already questioned Tarot. apparently Tetsuo cried.”

Another unexpected good thing about Taejun’s weird, stupid, Willy Wonka mansion is that it’s full of baseball paraphernalia. 

With each step, Jade feels his rationale falling away. He's gripped by a weird sort of numbness. He doesn’t care anymore. Doesn’t care about any of it. Doesn’t care about consequences, doesn’t care about whatever retribution may come his way, karmic or personal. And he certainly doesn’t care about Taejun’s feelings. Fuck Taejun. Fuck Taejun. The crickets were Jazmine Sullivan’s heralding violins, now. There was no saving Song Taejun.

It doesn’t take a minute to find a baseball bat. There's one hanging on the wall in the dining room. Jade pulls it from its display and grips the base tightly in his hand. It’s signed; though Jade has no idea who by, he thinks it probably adds a level of salt to the wound. It drags behind him, scraping against the expensive hardwood floors and he moves, past the kitchen and out into the foyer; to the front of the house. 

Jade doesn’t know anything about sports. He doesn’t know how to hold a baseball bat, doesn’t know anything about hand placement or proper form. But he must be doing something right, because as he swings the bat from overhead, both hands wrapped tightly around its base, it dents the hood of Taejun’s precious fucking car perfectly. 

The alarm shrieks, and so he only gets a few more strikes in before the front door wrenches open behind him. He hears footsteps rushing down the drive, and he deals a blow to the windshield. The bat bounces off of the reinforced glass and he stumbles. Taejun makes use of the misstep and grips him by the arm, yanking him away from the car. 

“What the fuck are you doing!?” He screams. “you fucking psychopath!” 

Jade tears himself from his grasp, putting enough space between them to point at him with the end of the bat. Tears stream from his eyes, and his entire body is shaking with adrenaline and anger and maybe panic. 

He knows that he must look insane, but he really doesn’t care. He's a monster of Taejun’s own making. 

“It was ‘cause of you.” He says, in blank comprehension. Taejun just seethes at him. “The investigation. It’s ‘cause of you.” 

“I know this must be uncomfortable.” Seobin had said, looking at Jade with a kindly expression that didn’t suit his normally stoic demeanor. “But you have to tell me if any misconduct has taken place.” 

Jade had been anxious all day, but when it came time to sit down and be questioned by Seobin, he couldn’t help but be gripped by anger. Jade could take care of himself. He wasn’t a victim. 

“I haven't noticed anything.”

“We received a really serious report last week.” Seobin had said. Jade had just looked at him in response, prompting him to continue with a frustrated little shake of his head. “Before we proceed, we need to know the true severity of the situation. I need to find out if this was an isolated incident. has any of the staff, be that management or producers, coaches, teachers- have any of them ever tried to initiate sexual contact with you?” 

Taejun had driven Jade out somewhere secluded and fucked him three days after he’d signed his contract. 

“No.” Jade had said.

“Have any of the staff ever tried to initiate an intimate or otherwise unprofessional relationship with you?”

Taejun had sat behind him in the bath, slowly massaging the conditioner into his hair, and said ‘you’re mine, right?’ before Jade had even debuted. 

“No.” Jade had said. 

“Has anyone at Valentine ever spoken to you in an inappropriate manner, even as a joke, that made you feel uncomfortable or unsafe?” 

Taejun had called him stupid, called him a slut, a whore, vapid, accused him of gold digging, accused him of fucking someone at the company to get casted, called him worthless, mocked him for agreeing to sleep with him so quickly, called him ugly, needled him about every pound gained or lost, told him that he was untalented, nothing but a pretty face, that he had nothing of value to say and the only reason god had given him a mouth was because his ability to suck a cock was his only redeeming quality. 

“No.” Jade had said. 

“Jade,” Seobin had said. “Do you promise you’re being honest with me?”

Jade had agreed to be Taejun’s because he meant it. He’d chosen to be in this relationship, and that meant taking the down with the up. he loves Taejun. (He loves Taejun, he loves Taejun.)

“Yes.” Jade had said. 

“Jade.” There’s a panic in Taejun’s eyes. “I don’t- You’re not-“ 

“What did you do?” Jade asks. 

“I didn’t-“ 

Jade bends his arm, making as if he’s going to swing the bat at Taejun. It’s an empty threat, but Taejun flinches and backs away from him. It makes Jade feel powerful, fills his brain with a weird drunken thump of masculinity. “What the fuck did you do!?” 

“I didn't mean to scare him!” Taejun yells. His eyes well with tears. “I just tried to kiss him-“

“Kiss who!?”

“Junjie!” Taejun shouts. His hand tears through his hair. “I thought he was- I only tried to kiss him but he fell over when he pulled away and he hurt himself-“

“You’re telling me that the reason my friend’s arm is in a cast right now is because he was trying to get away from you!?” 

Taejun keeps babbling, keeps making up excuses for himself but the blood pounding in Jade’s head is way too loud for him to hear. All he can register is the incessant yelping of the car alarm and his own pounding pulse. He's not trying to listen, regardless. The only thing he can think about is Junjie. 

Junjie with his twig limbs and his waist the width of a normal person’s neck; Junjie who Taejun completely towers over in stature. He thinks about how much bigger Taejun is than Junjie, he thinks about Junjie falling so hard he fractured a bone in his desperation to get away. He thinks about the man he loves scaring someone like that. 

And he thinks of the dark look in Taejun’s eye that night in the club, he thinks about the bruises he’d left on Jade’s hips. He thinks about the stranger who had greeted him with an innuendo, and Taejun’s dirty snicker, and the thousands of pictures of his faceless, naked body on Taejun’s phone. For some reason, he thinks about the nice upperclassman who’d comforted him through a panic attack in the bathroom at his first high school party, only to spread the rumor that Jade had tried to suck his dick and doom him to a lifetime of precedent reputation.

It takes every last drop of effort in his body not to swing the bat at Taejun’s head and keep swinging until he was nothing but unidentifiable mush.

He twists around, bringing the bat down against Taejun’s wing mirror and knocking it from the car in one fell swoop. Taejun lets out a yelp as if Jade has struck him himself, and when Jade turns to look at him, he doesn’t see a man. He sees a pathetic, vague impression of a person, trying his hardest to be a stereotype of a celebrity at the expense of at least three young men with actual fame, actual talent and actual futures. 

Jade tosses the bat on the ground. 

“Don’t talk to me ever again.” He says, setting off down the driveway, in nothing but his swimming trunks and his sunglasses. 

Taejun is too prideful to follow and beg Jade to stay. He's too proud to report the damages on his car, even. 

And Jade pities him for that. 

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes a call. 

“Hey, hyung,” he says. “I'm really sorry, but could you come get me?”

“Why were you at Taejun’s?” Seungsoo asks. Jade feels guilty, sitting in his car. He’d tried not to use Seungsoo like a personal chaperone the way that Minwoo did, but the only other person he knew who could drive was Hayana, and he definitely wasn’t close enough with her to ask her to drive to the edge of the city in the middle of the night to pick him up at Taejun’s gate. He’d given him his hoodie and left him alone for the duration of the drive, but Jade had known he would question him as soon as they pulled up outside of the dorm. 

He’d prepared for it, but it doesn’t stop his heart from missing a couple of beats as he finally gives his answer. 

“I came to have sex with him.” Jade says. Seungsoo blinks, turning to look at him with a shocked expression. Jade shrugs.

“What? Jade-”

“I’ve had sex with him, like, a thousand times. We did it the first time right after I joined the company. We’ve been dating.” 

A silence swells in the car, and Seungsoo buries his face in his hands, elbows resting on the steering wheel. “You boys are going to be the fucking death of me.” He says. 

“Don’t worry. I just dumped him.”

Seungsoo sighs, looking up from his hands at Jade. The look on his face is beyond exhaustion. “Jade,” he says. “Taejun is close to losing his job right now. He-”

“I know.” Jade says. “Junjie and Tetsuo. I know.” 

Seungsoo pauses, before pushing himself back up again, head thumping against the back of the headrest. 

“I'd like to tell Seobin.” Jade says. 

“Are you sure?” Seungsoo asks, eying him warily. Jade squirms under his gaze. Seungsoo was a great comfort to the other boys, but Jade had joined the company too old to see him as a weird father figure like they do. 

“I wanted to date him. I really had strong feelings for him, and I consented to everything we did sexually.” Jade plays with the idea of confessing to the way Taejun had grabbed him and hurt him. He even had Cairo as witness to that. But he can't. He can’t be looked at like that, can’t give them the opportunity to turn it all into something he’s not and force him to accept hard truths that he’s not even ready to process yet. “So, I don’t have anything super serious to report. But he still broke his contract, right?”

“He did.” Seungsoo says. 

“So I'll tell Seobin. If it means Junjie never has to come face to face with him again, I'll tell Seobin everything.” 

“I can pick you up tomorrow morning, then.” Seungsoo offers. “And take you to the building.” 

“Will you come into Seobin’s office with me?” 

“Of course I will.” 

Jade thanks Seungsoo, and automatically reaches for his pocket for his cigarettes, only to realize that he’d left them at Taejun’s. He feels it crack at him, but he holds it together long enough to drag himself up to the third floor, quietly sneak through the dorm to the bathroom, and peel himself from his clothes. 

It’s when the shower starts that he crumbles, loses grasp on all of his pieces and letting them clatter like shrapnel as he falls apart. He sits in the bottom of the tub, head tucked between his knees as the shower batters against his back, and he’s overcome by heaving sobs, tears and snot streaming down his face. He’d never cried like this before, but there’s no dignity to be had anymore, and so he lets himself choke up embarrassing noises and lets his face twist in emotional agony, he can look ugly here, where there’s nobody to see and no record of proof. 

Because it hits him, suddenly, that he’d have been presented an inescapable narrative if not for his one sided oath of secrecy regarding his and Taejun’s affair. His friends, the ones he’d love nothing more than to seek comfort in, had no idea that he’d ever been with Taejun, and he resolves to make sure that they never find out. He won’t play a broken doll for anyone. And after what Taejun has done, he knows they’ll make assumptions and he knows they won’t believe him no matter how much he insists everything was fine until it wasn’t. 

But he’ll give himself the night to mourn. Mourn the astroturf lawn and picket fence he was never going to get. Mourn the delusion of it all. It was a nice daydream. That’s all it had ever been. 

A thousand blind eyes turned, and a beautiful, perfect daydream.

[intotheroaringverse]

O caminho todo estava de mãos dadas com Lenalee, orgulhosamente exibindo a namorada recém formada. Os olhos brilhavam e ele dizia com todo gosto: ela foi uma das melhores da turma, independente dos anos turbulentos que teve. Seungsoo via a garota ao seu lado como uma verdadeira aparição em sua vida, consciente que, sem ela, seu caminho teria seguido por algo muito mais obscuro e problemático do que começar a namorar alguém que ainda não tinha idade legal para ser chamada de adulta.

Foi uma dor de cabeça para todo o jurídico e quase perdeu seu cargo na Suprema Corte em Nice? Sim. Ele faria tudo novamente? Mas é claro! Por ela valia a pena. Bastava um olhar para aquele sorriso, ou um toque de suas mãos nos dedos dela para que ele se lembrasse exatamente porquê viver riscos era tão fácil ao lado dela. A linda imagem de Lee abrindo as pernas para ele, dando espaço para que ele enfiasse o rosto ali até ser sufocado por aquela buceta que ele devorava em toda oportunidade também era um lembrete muito bem-vindo.

Seungsoo estava em um estado em que sabia que seus amigos iriam contestar sua sanidade por simplesmente se jogar naquela relação. Atravessar da França até a Coréia, depois de anos de isolamento, para assistir a formatura de Lee em uma das primeiras fileiras mesmo sabendo que no dia seguinte teria que estar em Paris em um caso sério a ser julgado parecia para ele a coisa mais natural a ser feita, mesmo que ele tivesse se esforçado anos e anos para chegar onde tinha chegado. Lim queria ver o rosto feliz de sua garota. Era tudo pela felicidade dela.

— Eu tenho um presente pra dar pra você, hoje — comentou com Lee, depois de a tomar nos braços para um abraço e um beijo quando ela se aproximou, o carpelo ainda sobre a cabeça. As mãos de Seungsoo disparavam pela cintura de Lenalee, querendo descer e agarrar a bunda da garota, mas não queria fazer isso em frente aos pais dela. — Mas primeiro...

Eles pareciam até mesmo um casal inofensivo. Os dedos entrelaçados, as risadas após uma piada interna, a troca de olhares que tinham um outro significado. Eles eram assim desde que começaram a relação na França, ainda, naquele breve período de turbulência que levou sua irmã mais nova a apresentar sua melhor amiga em um almoço formal. Seungsoo não conseguia tirar os olhos dela e se lembrava bem de ter se convencido que trocar contatos com Lenalee não era nada demais, uma vez que ele só tinha ficado curioso. Certo que no meio daquelas formalidades, tinha a beijado e então trocado uma forte sessão de amassos bem na frente do restaurante onde estiveram, mas ainda assim, não era nada demais. Não até passar a ansiar por vê-la e ir ele mesmo em Beauxbatons levá-la para sair, só a devolvendo na manhã seguinte para a aula porque a consciência o obrigava. Mas não sem antes imprimir a marca de sua mão na bunda da garota, forte o suficiente para que ela lembrasse toda vez que se sentasse em algum lugar.

Eles só pareciam inofensivos mesmo.

Seungsoo avistou a primeira sala de aula vazia e empurrou Lenalee para dentro sem perda de tempo, desviando da atenção de qualquer outra pessoa. Seu olhar desceu para a namorada, antes de agarrar seu pescoço e a obrigar a olhá-lo enquanto ele a encarava tão de perto.

— Fez o que eu pedi? — perguntou, em tom baixo e severo. Quando Lee fez que sim com a cabeça, sorriu de forma ardilosa, beijando brevemente seus lábios. — Boa garota.

A carregando para cima da mesa, ele a beijou mais uma vez, sem qualquer pressa, mesmo que seus dedos trabalhassem em desatar aquela capa e jogar para longe. A roupa curta de Lee ficava mais exposta e suas coxas também. O aperto que ele desferiu a pele nua da garota era de posse; era claro que ele não tinha porque temer ou agilizar, Lenalee Lee o pertencia e era dele para fazer o que bem quisesse. Seungsoo sabia disso ao deslizar os dedos pela coxa da garota, subindo por dentro do tecido e tocando entre suas pernas, os dígitos confirmando a obediência de sua namorada em comparecer sem calcinha para aquele evento.

— Tão molhada... Você estava pensando em como eu iria foder você assim que acabasse aquela palhaçada toda, não é mesmo? — ele perguntou, mordiscando o seu ombro. — Pensou nos meus dedos afundando na sua bucetinha durante toda a cerimônia, preparando para quando eu alargasse você até sentir meu pau todo a atravessando?

Todas aquelas palavras eram acompanhadas pelo toque constante e insistente de Seungsoo, até penetrar dois dedos dentro daquela buceta tão quente e receptiva e senti-los sendo praticamente sugados para dentro dela. A boca concentrada no pescoço e os dedos em se curvar, entrar e sair de Lenalee, Seungsoo nem mesmo se lembrava que estavam em uma instalação de Maejig Senteo. Honra e outras coisas podiam ficar para outro momento. Ele tinha que fazer aquela garota feliz.

— Fica de costas e se apoia nessa mesa agora, eu preciso foder você.

Entrou tão duro e tão necessitado dentro dela que pensou por alguns segundos que havia a machucado. Mas quando Lenalee gemeu pedindo por mais, enfiou os dedos molhados por ela própria em sua boca, abafando os sons que ela pudesse emitir enquanto socava o cacete dentro dela, saindo por quase completo, apenas para se enterrar mais uma vez nela, cada investida empurrando mais e mais o corpo da garota contra a mesa. Uma das mãos a segurava pelo ombro, a impedindo de ir longe, a outra castigava a pele de sua bunda, batendo tanto quanto ele queria, até deixar a pele quente e vermelha, a palma evidente no local.

— Você empina t��o bem, minha putinha. Sabe dar essa buceta como ninguém — elogiava, esfregando o clitóris dela como um agrado bônus, os lábios passando por sua nuca e pescoço com avidez, antes de voltar a estocar dentro dela com tanta vontade que conseguia quicar os seios da garota com os impulsos.

Era uma cena linda, Seungsoo sempre dizia isso. Tão lindo quanto era ouvir os sons de seus gemidos, anunciando o orgasmo ou assisti-la se colocando de joelhos tão obediente a sua frente, a língua de fora para receber a sua porra em jatos quentes, procurando pelo alívio depois de tanto tempo se segurando para não gozar dentro daquela buceta faminta.

Deixá-la se recompor lhe custava muito, mas ela parecia tão bem, tão leve... Ele só queria fazer Lenalee ter bons momentos. Foi com isso em mente que ele passou as mãos em sua cintura e a abraçou por trás, beijando o topo de sua cabeça.

— Meu presente de formatura para você vai ser uma viagem, baby. Reservei esse verão para nós dois. Nós, ao redor do mundo, sem mais nada nos atrapalhando — murmurou, antes de a virar para sua frente, puxando do blazer, com um sorriso convencido, uma caixinha azul Tiffany aberta com um diamante insanamente grande. — O que me diz, futura senhora Lim?

#seungsoo lim #sugar rush ride series

[sourkive]

007 : BAMBI.

Starring: Lee Bohyung.

Featuring: Lee Bohyung, Jade Lim.

Summary: Bohyung's mind wanders.

Word Count: 800.

CW: Sexual reference.

“I know it sounds like nothing.” Jade says. His voice is little more than a breath. They both lay under Bohyung’s blanket- appropriately distanced and dressed in their night clothes. It’s four in the morning and they have dance practice in two hours. They haven’t slept. Bohyung doesn’t mind though. A tear falls from Jade’s bambi eye, fanned on its journey by his long, fringed eyelashes. Through the gaps in their blinds, streetlights light the boy’s pretty face just enough to make it out. Bohyung reaches to cup his cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear. “I'm sorry.” 

“It's okay.” Bohyung whispers. 

“I replay that moment every night in my head.” Jade confesses. And he continues to speak, spilling his little heart out. Something only Bohyung could hear. Ever the confidante. Bohyung’s thumb strokes his cheek, and Jade leans into the touch as he talks. Bohyung thinks it may have been subconscious and he likes that. He likes that, maybe, Jade’s brain is pulling him closer. Somewhere in there might linger some sort of need for Bohyung that extends beyond a reliable friend and an ear to lend. 

Bohyung had allowed Jade to make him into an emotional sponge. He can’t imagine it’s easy, to be swept up into this life. At first, as the eldest, he was happy just to listen to the new boy, to alleviate some of that insurmountable pressure that surely even shoulders as toned as Jade’s couldn’t withhold alone.

He can’t remember when he started sneaking glances at Jade’s lips, or his torso, or between his legs in grey sweatpants, and imagining being under him. 

But his brain wanders, as it always does, to kissing away all of the pain on Jade’s pretty face, illuminated by streetlamps that Bohyung can imagine to be moonlight. He wonders what Jade would taste like. Even with the budget of Valentine Records and all the luxury fragrances in the world at his disposal, Jade still usually smells of a cheap strawberry body mist he’d been buying from the mall ever since high school, when he needed something strong and fruity to mask the scent of tobacco. Jade had told him that in passing, with a little laugh and the hindsight of ‘it definitely didn’t mask it, my mom still sniffed it out when she washed my school uniform. But I like the scent.’ 

Bohyung thinks that maybe it’s that, more so than Jade’s beauty. When it came to beauty, after all, Harin and Minwoo could easily match him, but they cared very much about it. They bought expensive clothes simply because they were expensive and took trips together to get fancy skin treatments that, as far as Bohyung could see, didn’t actually make any worthwhile difference to their skin, which had always just naturally seemed to be a hundred percent more perfect than his no matter what. 

Jade put effort in- wore BB cream and spent time styling his hair in the morning, and he had a good sense of style. But he didn’t really care about the performance of it all. He’d wear t-shirts that he’d had since he was a teenager to the airport and be photographed in them without a second thought. Around the dorm, Harin and Minwoo styled their leisurewear as if they were about to go on stage in it; Minwoo, in particular, had been asked by Seungsoo to wear shorts that actually covered his ass cheeks more than once. If Jade didn’t have to go anywhere, he’d walk around in hoodies and pyjama pants. 

It made the moments, like a few nights ago, when Bohyung had watched him do his makeup in the mirror before going out with his friends, all the sweeter, when Jade would don something skimpy (that night it was a tank top that was as tight as his skin, black and very translucent) and all Bohyung would be able to think about any time he closed his eyes was tearing it off of him. 

By the time Jade is finished venting his woe that is only for Bohyung’s ears, Bohyung is thinking of running his hand to the back of his neck, pulling him gently in and taking him in a kiss; soft at first, though soon the passion would mount. He’d roll him onto his back, knees falling at either side of his hips. Kiss his way down his jaw, to his neck, and then collar bone, and lower still, till he’s tugging his t-shirt off and kissing down his abdomen. By the time his lips reached the waistband of his pyjama pants, he’d kiss back up. And then back down. Slowly. He wanted to feel Jade start to writhe underneath him. He wanted to hear him ask for it. 

“Can you hold me?” Jade asks. He sounds small. Bohyung just raises an arm, and Jade pulls himself closer, head resting against his chest. Bohyung’s arm drops around Jade’s shoulders and pulls him close, giving him one quick little squeeze that Jade breathes out a little laugh to. 

“Thank you, hyung.” 

“For what?” Bohyung asks.

“Listening.”

[sourkive]

005 : SOLITAIRE.

Starring: Kwon Harin.

Featuring: Song Taejun, Jade Lim, Hirono Ikumi, Kwon Ahin, Zhang Junjie, Tachikawa Tetsuo, Kim Seungsoo.

Summary: Harin goes to a party.

Word Count: 6k.

CW: Drinking, reference to drugs, NSFW dialogue, homophobic slurs, violence.

“You’re useless like this.” Taejun says. It could sound cruel, but he has a way of saying things that could sound cruel in a kindly way. He looks over with a grin. “Go home, Rin. You’re overtired.” 

Harin sits back in his chair, anchoring his feet to the ground and twisting his waist, swivelling it from left to right just a little. He doesn’t look at Taejun, he just looks up at the ceiling, the tops of his vision eclipsed by the brim of his baseball cap. “I'll push through it.” He says, reaching out for the giant can of energy drink he’d rested on the soundboard. His hand doesn’t reach it, but he does hear the sound of metal scraping plastic. He looks down, and finds Taejun has dragged it out of reach. “Hyung.”

“You don’t need this shit. You need sleep.”

Harin rolls his eyes, pushing himself out of the chair. It’s true that he hadn’t been much help for a while; he thinks he’s on hour 32 of no sleep- but Sour Candy had a deadline fast approaching. A deadline that only Harin seemed in any way worried about meeting. Bohyung had dropped in to help where he could, but he just wasn’t very good at writing, and none of the lyrics he contributed ever made it into a final cut. Jade was still so new; he was still intimidated by the recording booth; and Taejun didn’t want to burden him with responsibilities he couldn’t handle until he was more comfortable. Harin was all for throwing Jade into the deep end and seeing how well he swam, but Taejun was insistent that it would only make him feel inadequate when he inevitably struggled with the process of songwriting. 

If anybody was going to be a true help, it would be Minwoo. but Minwoo was never around these days. Harin tried to avoid thinking too much about that. Minwoo had always loved to party, always disappearing every night before a free day, but it had become way more frequent and something was definitely up. Minwoo refused to admit it, though, either laughing it off or getting annoyed and accusing Harin of smothering him. so what else could he do but give him space? 

‘I don’t see the others boys around here much when they’re not recording,’ Seobin had muttered one afternoon, visiting the studios to check on the album progress. Harin had covered for them, offered excuses, and taken advantage of Seobin’s soft spot for him. But they were going to get themselves in trouble. Taejun’s executive producer role was only ever supposed to be temporary. Seobin’s vision was for Sour Candy to evolve into the next big ‘self-made’ group, and as things stood, that pretty much rested on Harin’s shoulders.

He stretches his arms out and twists at the waist, and his spine pops sickly disk by disk, cracking back into place. Taejun regards him with a grimace.

“You need a break.” He reaffirms. Harin scoffs.

“I didn't train for years for this job to not do it.” He combats, taking his jaw in his hand and pushing to the side, cracking his neck. Taejun visibly shivers. 

Around hour forty, Taejun had jabbed him in the side and told him he could hear his snoring over the headphones, so Harin had finally agreed to go home and get some sleep in an actual bed. 

That was the plan, anyway, but upon arrival, a cheerful Jade greets him from the kitchen, where a loud american pop song blasts over a bluetooth speaker, and an apron is double looped around his waist, flour coating every surface it could find. 

“Whatcha making?” Harin asks, resting his chin on Jade’s shoulder as Jade stirs some kind of mix in a big bowl. 

“Just cupcakes,” Jade says, not even blinking as Harin’s arms wrap around his waist. Jade loved touch and affection, and Harin enjoyed having a member around who didn’t make screwfaces and push him away whenever he tried to dish it. “I was gonna make apple pie, but Bohyung hyung said I bought the wrong kind of apples. You know there’s like, specific apples you’re supposed to use for cooking?” 

“Yeah.” Harin says. “They’re called cooking apples.”

“Well it’s news to me.” Jade says with a sing-song intonation. 

“i’m gonna go to bed.” Harin says. Without being asked, Jade wipes off a hand on his apron and reaches for his phone to decrease the volume of his music. Harin smiles a silent thank you. It’s certainly not new, by now, for him to come home in the afternoon and immediately sleep for around twelve hours. “Is Minwoo in our room?” 

“I don't think so.” Jade says. He ceases mixing, and Harin lets go of him so as not to get in his way as he moves onto his next step. “I didn't hear him come home last night.” 

Harin sighs, muttering a goodnight and making his way to his room. As he does, Jade lets out a little ‘oh,’ and calls him back into the kitchen. 

“Do you want me to wake you in time to get ready for Daichi’s party?” 

“That's tonight?” Harin asks, deflating a little. Now that they’d debuted, Sour Candy had been invited to their very first Valentine Records get together; this time hosted in Sakurai Daichi’s famously extravagant penthouse, in celebration of his twenty-ninth birthday. Harin knows he would regret missing it, but the exhaustion is heavy on his shoulders, and he knows that a few hours sleep won’t be enough. Still, as the leader, he can’t not show his face. “Sure. Thanks, Jade.” 

Jade gives him a little smile and bids him goodnight, and Harin wonders how any of the last generation, who were once infamous for their partying, had the time for any of it. Before he reaches the door, he turns, and looks at Jade, singing pleasantly to himself as he pours his cake mix into their cases, and he makes a snap decision.

“Jade, don’t drink too much tonight.” 

Jade’s head snaps to look at Harin. “Do I drink too much?” He asks, a look of concern on his face. Harin lets out a little laugh.

“No,” he says. “But i’m meeting Hayana noona in the studio tomorrow for a writing session. Nine AM. Make sure you’re up.” 

Jade takes a second, and then a hopeful look dawns on his face. “Wait, you want me to come?” 

“Yeah. You work well with her. And I'm determined to find the songwriter inside of you.” A smirk draws upon Jade’s face, and Harin can practically see the dirty joke brewing in his head. Harin rolls his eyes, interrupting him just as he opens his mouth to make it. “You know what I mean. Nine, okay?” 

“Got it.” Jade says with a grin. “Thanks, hyung. I really appreciate it.”

Harin retires to his room, stretching out his muscles once more, stiff and sore from sitting in the studio for hours on end. He eyes Minwoo’s empty bed, unmade and messy, and he sighs. He picks up the mountain of Minwoo’s discarded clothes from the floor and dumps them all in the hamper, despite the fact that most of them are likely unworn, just held to his body and gracelessly tossed away when vetoed from the night’s outfit. 

He’d been trying not to worry about Minwoo, but it was hard. With any luck, he’d just crashed at the Tarot dorm and lost track of time by side effect of sharing a bed with Tetsuo. That should comfort Harin, really, but it doesn’t. 

He supposes that there comes a time in life where best friend inevitably takes the back seat to boyfriend, and Harin had always been aware of that in the vague sort of sense. In high school, it had happened to him over and over again, he’d befriend girls and embark on this weird, intense, parasitic best-friendship that sucked all of his sense of self out and replaced it with the role of sidekick. And he’d listen to their deepest and darkest secrets and comfort them through everything and neglect to point out that when they called themselves fag hags, they were indirectly calling him a fag. He’d revolve his life around being a good friend, and they’d get boyfriends and suddenly they didn’t need a gay friend to hang around with anymore, and they’d leave. And that had bothered him, but not like this. 

Maybe it’s because all of those girls ended up with ugly boyfriends. He doesn’t exactly desire Tetsuo, but he does desire the concept that Tetsuo embodies; successful, gorgeous, fun, sweet. Minwoo had found the ideal boyfriend and Harin was, as always, pathetically alone. The only time he hadn’t been alone was when he was with jumin, and that was even more pathetic, in the end. 

Harin struggles out of his skinny jeans and falls back into the bed, not bothering to go under the covers; it would only make it harder to get out of bed when Jade comes to wake him in a few hours. 

He falls into a dreamless sleep, which is probably for the best.

It turns out that getting three hours of sleep after spending over twenty-four hours awake is more detrimental to a person’s energy than helpful. 

From the second Jade had stirred him, Harin had awoken with a crushing headache. At one point, he vaguely considered going back to bed and just sending Daichi a late birthday card in the mail with an apology. But before he could, Jade had sighed in the kitchen, already all dolled up in his party clothes with his face made up, and said ‘Bohyung hyung doesn’t want to come.’ 

If Harin didn’t go, Jade certainly wouldn’t go alone, and he wasn’t going to be the one to ruin the youngest member’s plans for the night. ‘Oh well,’ he had told Jade. 'He's no fun anyway.’ 

And so Harin had swallowed down an aspirin or two and made himself pretty. He was the leader, after all. His job was to represent Sour Candy, this was equally true for parties as it was schedules. 

It’s a grace that maybe he shouldn’t have upheld, because almost as soon as they enter the penthouse, lit up in deep pink light (which doesn’t exactly aid his headache) with music blasting so loud it rumbles the floorboards, Chaerin rushes screaming over and pulls Jade away somewhere, sparing Harin barely a glance in the process. 

Jade, at least, has the decency to shoot a worried, apologetic glance over his shoulder as he’s pulled among the throngs of people in the hallway; but very soon, Harin is left alone. 

He makes his way to the huge living room, and all but prays that Minwoo has somehow made his way here. For someone who shot to fame based on his charisma alone, Harin was, perhaps, a little socially awkward. He could radiate confidence with ease so long as he was performing, but being alone at a party was kind of his nightmare scenario. 

He doesn’t know how to start conversations with new people; and with each passing second he feels more and more convinced that every single unfamiliar face he makes eye contact with is thinking about how he’s weird for being alone, and that every laugh is product of a joke about him he doesn’t hear. His head begins to hurt just a bit more, and he’s planning excuses to leave when an arm slots through his, wrapping tightly around his bicep, and he’s hit with a wave of flowery perfume trying desperately to mask the scent of marijuana. 

“You look terrified.” says Hirono Ikumi, and Harin has never been more relieved to see her in his life.

“This isn’t really my comfort zone.” he says with a nervous sort of smile, and she snorts. 

She begins to walk, and he follows though he doesn’t really know where she’s going. She leads him towards a huge dining table in a room that’s separated from the living room by a large, high archway. The table is packed with more booze and snacks than Harin thinks even a party big enough to fill this penthouse could consume; and he considers the decadence of Sakurai Daichi not for the first time. He had heard about the extravagance of his lifestyle, and the members of Tarot and Medusa had gushed to him about his parties. There was something a little odd, though, about seeing it all for himself. He wondered if one day, Sour Candy might reach the level of success that Histeria had. He can see Minwoo living a life like this very easily. 

“Let's get you some comfort, then.” Ikumi says with a grin. She picks up two solo cups and begins gathering a seemingly random selection of bottles from the table. She immediately gets to work, though she does ask, “Do you like cocktails?” 

“Yeah.” Harin says, feeling lucky that he does, because she wasn’t really waiting for an answer.

“I'll make you my famous cocktail.” She says, turning to look at him with an impish grin. Under the pink lights, he sees that her pupils are dilated. He wonders if she actually has any idea what she’s doing. “I call it the Hero’s Breakfast. Do you get it?”

 “Yeah,” Harin says with a smile. “That’s cute.”

“It's cause my stage name is Hero.” 

“Yeah, I know, babe.” Harin says, with a little laugh. 

He distractedly pulls his eyes away from Ikumi’s alchemy, and through the archway into the living room room, he sees the familiar buzzed head of Tachikawa Tetsuo, perched on the edge of an armchair in which Zhang Junjie sits primly, eyes glued to his phone. Tetsuo is engaged in conversation with Kwon Ahin, who sits on the couch next to the chair. 

“Ahin hyung’s over there,” Harin says in a way that he hopes seems casual. Ikumi’s head whips around to look, and she smiles toothily when Ahin seems to sense the eyes on him and waves over at them with a cheery grin. 

“I'm going to inhale his cock tonight.” She says, factually. Harin snorts out a laugh, nodding towards her hand, which seems to be in suspended animation as it recklessly pours gin into the plastic cup, dangerously filling to the brim. 

“You might want to chill out on the Hero’s Breakfasts, then.” He says. She makes a little ‘oh’ and pulls the bottle away, bending down to place her lips over the rim and sip away the excess. 

Ikumi, deeming that her magic has been made, hands Harin the cup and demands they go talk to the Tarot boys. This, of course, had been Harin’s master plan from the second he pointed them out to her; because there was a lot to question Tetsuo on. 

When they reach the boys, Ikumi heads straight to sit in Ahin’s lap. He wraps his arms around her waist and gives her a goofy smile. She leans in to kiss him, and Harin diverts his eyes, suddenly realizing the flaw in his plan. Now he’d have to pointedly ignore the affections of yet another happy couple, and think about how he’s alone. He takes a sip of his Hero’s Breakfast, and it takes all of his strength not to screw his face up in disgust as the realization hits that Ikumi had simply mixed together as many spirits as she could find and nothing else. He looks at her to complain but sees her taking a gulp of her drink with ease. In a way, he fears her. 

“Hey, Harin.” Tetsuo says. Harin looks at him and smiles crookedly. Suddenly, he becomes extremely conscious of the fact that he’s just awkwardly standing; but to sit next to Ahin on the couch would be to place a wall of PDA between him and the person he was trying to converse with, so he sits down on the floor, resting his arm against the coffee table and hoping that that makes it look purposeful and not awkward. At the very least, nobody says anything or looks at him as if he’s an idiot. 

“Hey.” Harin says. “Did Minwoo come?” There’s a pause in the conversation. An odd sense of discomfort dawns in Tetsuo’s posture, and Junjie looks up from his phone and settles his gaze on Harin’s face, something unreadable in his big, pretty eyes. 

“How would I know?” Tetsuo asks. Harin stalls.

“He didn't come home last night,” Harin says. “I guess I just figured he’d be with you?” Junjie lets out a little snicker, returning to his phone, and Tetsuo elbows him with a hush.

“He didn't tell you.” Tetsuo deduces, pursing his lips into a line. 

“Tell me what?” 

“Minwoo broke up with me.” Tetsuo says in a matter-of-fact tone, before taking a swig of his beer that lasts a little too long. 

“What?” Harin knows it’s not very tactful, but he can’t stop his jaw from dropping in surprise. “When?” he asks, before he can think. 

Tetsuo sighs. “Last month. Look, bro, no offense, but I don’t really want to talk-” 

“You’ve got to be fucking joking.” Junjie interrupts, harshly. Harin looks to him in shock, but Junjie isn’t looking at them. His eyes are pointed towards the center of the living room, behind Harin. Harin strains his neck to look; and immediately wishes he didn’t.

In the center of the room is, in the flesh, none other than Jung Jumin. And he makes eye contact with Harin, and then, like something from a horror movie, he begins to approach.

“He’s coming over.” Tetsuo says.

“Has he bumped his fucking head?” Junjie spits. He sounds livid. From her spot on Ahin’s lap, Ikumi gives Jumin a once over, her thick brush of false lashes fluttering in the process.

“Who invited him?” she questions.

“It must have been Daichi sunbaenim.” Ahin says.

“Has he bumped his fucking head?” 

“He’s coming over.” Tetsuo stresses in a hushed tone, even though it’s not as if anyone could hear them over the music anyway. 

Harin can barely even form coherent thought. He thought he had washed his hands of Jumin forever. He wrings his fingers, tearing his eyes away from Jumin and trying to push down the mountain of emotions threatening to bubble over the surface. He had kept everything to himself; the others have no idea. He’s going to have to act like nothing happened.

“Hey, Jumin.” Ikumi greets in a mellifluous type of way that immediately reads as fake. She speaks over the rim of her monstrous concoction, hiding her smirk. “Long time no see.”

“Hi, Ikumi.” Jumin says with a polite little bow, which she returns with a nod of her head. He looks across the rest of the group; Tetsuo offers a weak smile and Ahin manages one that looks real. Junjie doesn’t look up from his phone; and Harin’s pretty sure he’s just blankly staring. “Hi, guys.” 

Everyone mutters back a hello, and Harin finds himself following suit. The only person who doesn’t say anything is Junjie, who’s thumbs fly across his keyboard at record speed. Tetsuo’s phone buzzes in his pocket suspiciously, several times in a row.

“Hello, Junjie.” Jumin presses, raising an eyebrow. Harin cringes.

Junjie looks up with a blank expression, through hooded lids that radiate a natural condescension. “Hi, adulterer.” He says, dryly. 

An awkward silence falls over the couch; and a spike of panic strikes through Harin’s body. He looks up at Jumin with wide eyes; Jumin seems to catch it, glancing down at him and giving the smallest little shake of his head, seemingly unnoticed by the others. 

“I know you don’t like me very much, Jun, but whatever happened between Shiyu and I doesn’t have to be between us-” Jumin starts, but Junjie lets out a scoff.

“I shared a womb with her,” He says. “I'm not going to be friends with you after you cheated on her.” 

“Wait, what?” Ikumi cuts in. She looks at Jumin as if he’s a piece of dirt, all fake niceties immediately dropped. He bristles under her gaze. “You did what?” 

“It’s a bit late for you to pretend you give a fuck about Shiyu now, Ikumi. I didn’t see you stick up for her when Valentine gave her the boot.” 

“What power do I have over Valentine?” Ikumi snaps. 

“And you’re no better.” Jumin ignores her, pointing his attention back towards Junjie. “Talk about family loyalty. If a label kicked my sister out and then threw her under the bus, the last thing I'd do is stick around.” 

“How noble,” Junjie says with a roll of his eyes. “But I’m not letting anyone’s heterosexuality ruin my career.” 

“Why do you guys always blame me?” Jumin asks, voice pitching upwards as he grows more and more defensive. . “None of you guys are in any position to judge. When they kicked us out, not one of you said a fucking word for us.” 

“You’re the one who martyred yourself for a girl you apparently couldn’t even stay faithful to.” Ikumi scoffs, but Jumin is undeterred.

“And you’re nothing but a fucking hypocrite.” He says. “You told her that she just should have been more vigilant and here you are, sitting on a boy’s fucking lap. From what I’ve heard, you didn’t even learn from it, you didn’t get any more careful, Ikumi, you’re still whoring yourself out-” 

Ahin makes to push himself from the couch in a flurry of movement, but Ikumi spreads her hand across his chest, pushing him back. 

“Don’t,” She warns him. 

“I’ll knock you the fuck out.” Ahin spits at Jumin. Jumin just raises his arms with a smirk. 

“Strike a nerve, hyung?” Jumin smirks. Harin recognises it sickly, the smug pleasure Jumin seemed to gleam from finding out which buttons to press. For a second, there’s silence. Harin’s head hurts more than he thinks it’s ever hurt before. He takes a mouthful of the Hero’s Breakfast and grits his teeth with a grimace at its pungent, chemical taste. It’s not a good mix. He has no idea how everything suddenly flew off the handle. 

It had always been awkward to bring up Jumin or Shiyu; but Shiyu was still Junjie’s sister, she was still connected. Nobody was really ready to see Jumin again. They hadn’t reached a consensus on him yet. 

They all felt guilty about saying nothing. Of course they did, Jumin and Shiyu had been their friends. But Harin had, in a dark little part of his brain, felt a sick sense of victory when they were kicked out. He loathed Jumin, and he was ashamed to say it, but he loathed Shiyu too. They’d hurt him. 

“First of all,” Says Junjie, pushing himself from the armchair. He makes his way to Jumin, getting in his space, their faces so close together that their noses nearly touch. The couch goes silent, and though the music still blares, it’s as if it’s drowned out. “Talk about Ikumi like that again, and I’ll knock all the fucking filler out of you. Second, literally nobody even wants you here, so I suggest you and your teeny tiny little needle dick get the fuck out, before you really get your feelings hurt.” 

“Get out of my face.” Jumin says, in a warning tone. 

“Why, what are you going to do?” Junjie simply asks, face splitting into a smirk.

“Get out of my face, you fucking fag-” It all happens so quickly that Harin barely even registers it. As if it’s nothing, Junjie’s small fist just drives out, striking Jumin right at the peak of his Adam's apple. Jumin stumbles backwards with a wheezing gasp, clutching at his throat as he begins to cough and splutter. Tetsuo is fast out of his chair; arms wrapping around Junjie’s biceps, gripping his arms tightly behind his back.

“Go ahead, finish your sentence!” Junjie shouts, staring down at Jumin, who continues to cough, gasping for air with a panicked look in his eyes as he flaps his lips wordlessly in shock. Junjie begins to jolt his shoulders, trying to pull free from Tetsuo’s grasp. “Choke it out, cunt!” 

“Junjie, what the fuck-” Tetsuo groans out, through gritted teeth. He begins to drag him backwards, out of the living room. 

“You’re surrounded by faggots, you fucking dumbass! They’re playing a fucking Charli XCX song!” Junjie calls as Tetsuo tugs him into the hallway. “What did you think was going to happen!?” 

They disappear into the bathroom, and then all there is is the sound of labored breathing. And the Charli XCX song. 

In a flurry that Harin’s not sure he even saw, Daichi is suddenly on the scene, putting a hand on Jumin's back, rubbing it with a worried expression on his handsome face. Harin barely knows where to look, from the shimmering, expensive looking tiara atop his head to the pink sash that boasts him to be the ‘World’s Oldest Twink.’ With an inappropriate burst of good humour, Harin can’t help but think that Junjie was right, Jumin really has picked the worst possible birthday party to throw homophobic slurs around in. 

And then there’s this crushing realisation that Jumin is there, and he’s barely even looked at Harin, and he had called Harin’s friend (Maybe? He doesn’t really know if Junjie likes him, or is aware of his existence) a faggot, and he’d done it because Junjie is gay and Jumin claims not to be and he was trying to be hurtful. 

And that’s when Harin understands, finally, the extent to which Jumin had used him. Harin had been nothing to Jumin. He was just a mouth. He’d loved Jumin; he’d loved him and so he’d never questioned anything; never wondered why Jumin would always close his eyes, or worse, watch porn on his phone. Never questioned why the only thing he ever wanted was head, why he’d never touch Harin back. He’d pretended it didn’t bother him, when Jumin would tell him to keep his hands off of him, say they were too big. 

It all hits him like a train. Jumin hadn’t been two-timing him and Shiyu. He had been dating Shiyu, and using Harin to masturbate. 

“Don’t give him any sympathy.” Harin tells Daichi. Daichi looks at him questioningly, and Jumin fixes his eyes on him, but Harin resolves not to meet them. He doesn’t care anymore. 

“What the fuck happened, here?” Daichi asks, already drawing his hand away from Jumin’s back. He looks annoyed, and Harin can’t really blame him; a bunch of rookies had started a fight at a party they’d been lucky to be invited to in the first place. 

Harin wants to explain, but his migraine suddenly feels like it’s splitting his head open, and with a groan he lets his head drop against the coffee table. He vaguely hears Ikumi and Ahin launch into explanation, he hears Jumin rasping out rebuttals, and he sees Daichi look more and more bemused by the whole thing, and then shoot a disgusted glare at Jumin.

He’s so tired, suddenly. His eyelids feel too heavy to hold open. He wonders if he’s drunk, but his hero’s breakfast is still pretty much full. He can feel the pink room growing darker, and he almost falls completely into sleep before a big hand clamps down on his shoulder. He looks up to see Jade, who gives him a gentle, careful smile. His shirt is slightly askew, and his hair is tussled. 

“Seungsoo hyung is coming to get us.” he says. “Let's go wait outside for him.” 

They sit on the cold pavement, Harin resting his head on Jade’s shoulder. The crisp air is enough to wake him up for now, and he vaguely watches his breath as it forms in the air in front of him, fading out into the world. 

“Sorry you’re leaving early because of me.” Harin says with a sigh. Almost immediately, Jade shakes his head, nudging against his shoulder.

“There'll be other parties. Are you okay?” Jade asks.

“No.” says Harin. Jade’s arm shifts, and then it wraps around his shoulder, pulling him close to his side. Harin sighs. “I'm lonely.” 

“You have me.” Jade says. “and the others. You have Minwoo hyung.” Harin smiles weakly. 

“Yeah.” he says. “I guess.” 

“What's making you feel lonely?” Jade asks. Harin frowns, wringing his hands. 

“Everyone has someone but me. Ikumi has Ahin hyung. Minwoo has Tetsuo, Bohyung hyung has Chiwon hyung. You have your thing going on, where you sneak away all the time and limp home and think we don’t notice.” Jade lets out a snort, nudging Harin with his shoulder. Harin lets out a laugh of his own. “I dunno. I’m jealous.” 

“You could have anyone you want, hyung.” Jade says. “you’re Kwon fucking Harin.” 

“I’m not, though.” he says. “Not in real life. I’m not really who they think I am.” 

“You are.” Jade says. “You’re cooler in real life.” 

Harin sighs through his nose. They’re quiet for a while, watching the cars go by on the road. After a few minutes, Harin lays back, resting his head against the cool concrete ground, staring up at the sky. Jade joins him only moments later. They probably look way drunker than they are like this, Harin’s arm falling over Jade’s stomach and their knees bent, knocking together. They’re quiet. They just look at the sky. 

“This would be better if you could actually see stars in Seoul.” Jade laments, after a while. Harin can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah. But maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll see a chemtrail.” 

“That's all a load of garbage.” Jade says. “Lana's lost her mind.” Harin doesn’t really know what he’s talking about, so he doesn’t respond. He just thinks. 

He thinks about how everyone has had an easier time bonding and fitting into the Valentine ‘family’ than he has. And then he feels bad, because he gets along with Taejun, and Ikumi had gone out of her way to make him feel a part of things tonight, and Tetsuo had called him bro, which might mean something. But then he thinks about Minwoo, who’s really the only true best friend he’s ever had, and how he didn’t even tell him about something as big as his relationship ending. A month ago. 

And while he guesses that he’s maybe not entitled to every detail of Minwoo’s life, he’d certainly had to hear more about the grip strength of Tetsuo’s asshole than he’d ever like to know, so it’s not as if Minwoo has ever been private about his affairs. 

He wonders if Minwoo is home yet, and where he’s been, and if this will ever pass or if it’s just another parasitic friendship that someone’s already grown out of even though Harin still desperately needs it to survive.

“That was the guy I replaced, right?” Jade asks. Harin feels a weird emotion bubbling in his chest. 

“Yeah.” he says. “Jumin. The girl he dated is Junjie’s sister, so that’s what that was about.” 

“I know.” Jade says. “Chaerin noona told me the story. Me and her were watching from the kitchen. Uh.. Are you okay, hyung? You don’t have to tell me anything, but you seem kinda shaken up.” 

Harin turns his head, and Jade turns his too. For a second, he just stares into Jade’s big, pretty eyes, and then he gives him a tight smile. He can feel that he’s about to be too honest, and he doesn’t know what’s prompting it, be it Jade’s warm soul or the three mouthfuls of Hero’s Breakfast. Or maybe Jumin had just lost the right to Harin’s promises after calling his friend a slur. Either way, he tells him. 

“I had a crush on him when we were trainees. It was really obvious, and he overheard Minwoo teasing me about it. One day, he and I got annoyed at Seungsoo hyung and we ran away from the dorm. We were hiding in Luke sunbaenim’s studio and we found weed in there, so we smoked some. He kept warning me that weed made him horny until eventually he just straight out asked if I wanted to suck his dick. I did, so I did, and then after that, even sober, every time he got in the mood he’d get me to suck him off. And he started being, like, especially nice to me, too. He treated me different than he treated Minwoo and Bohyung hyung. 

“I was the naive one. I read signs that weren’t there. I even told people that he was my boyfriend. Then Dispatch leaked that he and Shiyu had been dating for a year. And when I confronted him, he was just like… it was just head. He made me feel really stupid about it all. He was using me to get off, that’s all. So seeing him was really hard. And then hearing him call Junjie that word…” Harin trails off with a sigh, staring at the murky, polluted sky above him. Jade lays his head on his shoulder, cuddling into him. 

“So fuck Jumin.” he says. Harin snorts out a laugh. 

“Yeah.” he says. “Fuck Jumin.”

“None of that is a reflection on you. You get that, right?” Jade says, a worry lingering in his voice.

“I mean, I was stupid enough to trust him.”

“No, you gave someone a part of yourself and expected them to treat it with the care it deserved. That’s normal, hyung. He’s the stupid one to exploit that. And if what you really want is to find someone who loves you properly, I promise you will. There must already be, like, boys lining up the block.” 

“i don’t think there’s anybody interested in me right now.” Harin admits. “I can't even get a one night stand. I dunno, I guess compared to you guys, I just don’t feel, like, hot-” 

“C’mon.” Jade scoffs. “If I wasn’t, like, staunchly against fucking my groupmates, I’d rail the fuck out of you right here on this sidewalk. In a heartbeat. Not joking.” 

“Aaaand, there’s our headline.” rings out a third voice. Startled, Jade and Harin both push themselves back up to sitting position. Across the slim street stands a shadowy figure, leaning up against a black van, puffing cigarette smoke. Harin feels a sharp panic drive into his chest, but then his eyes adjust and he realizes that it’s just Seungsoo. 

“When did you get here!?” Jade asks, bewildered.

“Jade, please don’t tell me you’re having public sex.” Seungsoo says, flicking his cigarette to the pavement and stubbing it out. “Even Valentine can’t bury a scandal like that.” 

“Of course I’m not.” Jade scoffs, pushing himself to his feet and extending a hand to help Harin up. He looks at Seungsoo with a cheeky grin, and adopts an arch tone. “I'm a virgin.” 

Harin rests his head against the plush seat of the van and closes his eyes. Seungsoo is a smooth driver, and Harin always found it easy to fall asleep in the back of this van. He thinks about how it’s been two days since he last got more than a couple hours rest and he’s desperate for some more, but just as he’s about to fall into slumber, Jade speaks again. 

“What about Daichi sunbaenim?”

“Huh?” 

“You should hook up with Daichi sunbaenim!” Jade says, eyes sparkling in genuine excitement at the idea of it. 

“Jade.” Harin says, dryly. “Have you ever held the negative ends of two batteries together?” 

With a sigh, Seungsoo reaches back to sharply slide the partition behind the driver’s seat closed. 

“Oh.” Jade says, with a laugh. “Well, he’s so fucking pretty… can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure.” 

“He was talking to Chaerin noona and I earlier, and he asked me if I wanted to make out with him.” Harin turns to look at Jade, at his giddiness, and he feels something weird tugging at his heart. There’s an innocence about Jade. It goes hand in hand with his worldliness. A weird paradox of someone who barely trained; Jade hadn’t yet been beaten down by the industry, but he’d lived in the real world, worked a real job, and so he’d been hardened by life in a way that the rest of them, hidden up in the steel Rapunzel tower that was Valentine Records, likely never would. And yet, Jade’s heart was raw and untainted and ripe to be feasted upon. 

“Did you do it?” 

“No.” Jade says, uncharacteristically quiet and after a short pause. Harin, once more, takes note of his messy hair and half-untucked shirt and narrows his eyes. “I'm kind of committed to something.” 

“Right.” Harin purses his lips. Jade’s secret relationship. He breathes in through his nose, nodding his head. “Look, Jade… by all accounts, Daichi sunbaenim is harmless. But be careful of these older guys, okay? Especially the ones in the industry. Especially the rich ones. Some of them are gonna see someone as good looking as you, and hear your story and think you’re an easy target.” 

Something dark and complicated crosses Jade’s face; he doesn’t let his smile drop, but he’s always betrayed by those big eyes of his. “I can look after myself, hyung.” he says. 

“I know.” Harin says, frowning. “I'm just saying. Be careful.” 

Jade settles back into his chair, folding his arms and looking out of the window. Harin rests back too, letting his eyes flutter closed. 

He doesn’t know if Minwoo will be there when they get home; but the oppressive exhaustion weighing his bones down makes it hard to care.

Besides, he thinks, he’s spent his whole life worrying about others. Maybe it’s time he sorts himself out. Maybe it’s time he was selfish. Maybe it was time he put himself first.

If nothing else, it’s time he slept.

[sourkive]

003 : LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER.

Starring: Kang Minwoo.

Featuring: Yoo Seobin, Jung Myeongjae, Kwon Harin, Lee Bohyung, Jade Lim.

Summary: Minwoo's worth is determined.

Word Count: 2k.

CW: Sponsorship.

Minwoo doesn’t know why, but nerves grip his stomach as he stands in front of Seobin, head hung, awaiting the other to speak.

It’s not his first time being called to the CEO’s office, but something is off this time. Seobin had always been friendly with Minwoo; and now, after so long at the company, they generally spoke to one another comfortably. There was still a level of respect expected, of course, but Minwoo was a teenager when he’d first met Seobin. They’d gotten familiar.

Minwoo isn’t sure what he might have done wrong, but he knows he must be in trouble. Seobin can’t even look him in his eyes. 

“Is everything okay?” Minwoo finally asks, after what seems like five minutes of staring at his shoes, listening to Seobin shuffle things on his desk and clatter on his keyboard in silence. there’s another moment of silence, before Seobin sighs from his nose.

“Minwoo,” he says. He pauses again, and when Minwoo looks up, Seobin directs his line of vision away, swallowing roughly. “Sit down.”

Minwoo does as he’s told. And though there’s no way he could possibly be kicked from the group so soon after debut, not with the mad dash to prepare Jade after Jumin left, he can’t help but worry that this is it. Seobin stares past him, making eye contact with the wall behind him, and Minwoo just knows that Seobin is going to tell him he has to leave the group. 

He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. He’d been partying a lot lately, but he’d been careful. He’d been smart about it, stuck with friends who had more to lose than he did, never teetering too close to the edge of a VIP section. He'd never been caught, it can’t be that- but it has to be something. 

“Are you kicking me out?” He blurts out. Seobin looks at him with a questioning furrow of his eyebrow.

“What? No. No, it’s nothing like that.” He says, wringing his hands. Minwoo is at a loss, then, and when he looks at Seobin expectedly, he’s greeted with another sigh.

“Sir.” Minwoo says, his thumbnail finding place between his teeth. “You’re kinda scaring me.”

Seobin runs a hand over his face, and then clears his throat. He’s uncomfortable and nervous and it’s terrifying. Minwoo thinks he’s going to learn that someone’s died, or taken ill, but Seobin just says. “I have a friend. Do you know Jung Myeongjae?” When Minwoo shakes his head, Seobin sighs. “He's a really important connection to Valentine. He owns a broadcasting station.”

Minwoo doesn’t get it. “Okay?” He says. Seobin finally looks at him, regards him with a complicated expression and guilt in his eyes. Minwoo shuffles.

“He saw you boys perform, and he’s a fan. He'd like to meet you." 

Minwoo’s teeth break the nail, and he pulls it from his mouth, letting it hang for now- it would feel rude to pull it off. "Like, meet Sour Candy?” He asks.

“No.” Seobin loses eye contact again, shuffling through some paperwork, and Minwoo sees his hands tremble. “Just you."

Minwoo isn’t stupid, but he does have hope. 

Jung Myeongjae wanted to have dinner with him. It seemed strange, but he owned a broadcasting station. Minwoo had worked really hard on trying to keep Sour Candy’s YouTube show entertaining, so he thinks that maybe it had caught his attention. In the lead up to the dinner, Minwoo entertains himself with the idea of being a Music Show host. 

It would be hard to juggle with Sour Candy’s schedules, but it would probably be fun, and it wasn’t like he was about to pass up on an opportunity to be on television on a weekly basis. He does, briefly, wonder if Myeongjae wouldn’t have just gone through his management to hire him for that, but Minwoo doesn’t really know how this stuff works. Maybe this is all actually very normal.

The thought splinters a little when it’s not Seungsoo who comes to pick him up. They send Yoojung, instead. He was an older guy who had been with Valentine since the very beginning. Yoojung once worked as part of Histeria’s management team, but nowadays he wasn’t really attached to any group. He just kind of did Seobin’s bidding. 

Minwoo asks him what restaurant they’re going to, and he’s told a name that he knows belongs to a hotel. However, he rationalises, hotels tend to have restaurants, too. Especially fancy ones. It isn’t too left field. In the car, he pictures his name in the roman alphabet, and what colour of microphone he’d like it sprawled on glittering cardboard across. He wonders if he gets to choose. He wonders who his co-hosts might be, and if the hosts on these shows actually befriend each other the way it seems. He could use some more friends. That would be nice. 

Yoojung tells him to knock on the door of room 337 three times. Minwoo gets out of the car alone, and when he ducks back in to ask ‘aren’t you coming with me?,’ Yoojung at least has the grace to look guilty when he shakes his head no. 

"I’ll be waiting right here.” He says, voice gentle in a weird sort of way that doesn’t suit him. 

Minwoo isn’t stupid. By the time he’s knocking on the door, he’s steeled his nerve for what’s coming. 

Jeong Myeongjae opens the door in a suit. Minwoo had wore a pair of slacks and a fancy designer t-shirt, but he still feels underdressed. He hugs his arms as he bows. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” Minwoo says, in the hyper-formal manner he’s been conditioned to speak to important men in. “My name is Kang Minwoo." 

Myeongjae laughs, putting a hand on Minwoo’s shoulder and ushering him into the hotel room, closing the door behind them. It thunks in a way Minwoo knows to mean it’s automatically locked. "I know who you are. Didn’t they tell you i asked for you specifically?”

Minwoo nods. The room is dim, but he can still make out Myeongjae’s face. His skin is pulled tightly over his skull, with the rubbery sort of sheen that old people get when they fight too hard not to look old. Minwoo thinks of his nose job and his shaven jaw and wonders if he’ll look like Myeongjae one day.

“My CEO told me you were a fan of mine.” Minwoo says. Myeongjae runs a hand down his arm, and when it brushes over his sleeve and reaches his skin, Minwoo does his best to push back an overwhelming sense of repulsion and a need to get away. “He said you liked our performance. Thank you.”

Myeongjae gives him a kindly smile, but there’s a dirty glint in his eye that churns Minwoo’s stomach. “You’re sweet,” he says. Minwoo bows his head again, a quick action, a non-verbal thank you. “I paid a lot of money for this night with you, Minwoo. You’d better be worth it.”

Myeongjae's hand closes around Minwoo’s wrist, and he leads him to the bed. And Minwoo has to wonder how much Valentine Records had determined he was worth.

Sour Candy bow ninety degrees to Seobin, sweat dripping from the peaks of their faces and matting their hair to their foreheads. He had sat in to monitor the rehearsal for their new title track choreography; and Minwoo thinks they had probably run through it about thirteen times before he’d finally stood up and told them to take a break. 

Minwoo had outdanced them all. He doesn’t say it to be arrogant, he just knows it to be fact. He always did. 

“Jade.” Seobin says with a grin as they stand up straight. “You’ve come leaps and bounds in the past couple of weeks. Really good work.”

Jade bows at the waist, again. “Thank you so much, sir.” he says.

“Bohyung,” Seobin continues, making his way down the line as he always did. “You’re not quite hitting some of the moves as sharp as the others, but I'm not worried about you. Just pay more attention to detail." 

"Yes, sir. Thank you.” Bohyung says with a bow of his own. 

“Harin, perfect as usual.” Seobin says with a broad grin. Harin matches it, not bowing as deep as the others.

“Thanks.” He says. beside him, Jade snorts out a little laugh, too quiet for Seobin to hear across the dance studio. It’s still new to him, but Bohyung and Minwoo had had years to grow accustomed to the princely treatment of Harin at Valentine Records. It had once annoyed Minwoo, but it’s not as if Harin didn’t have the skill and charisma to back it up. He’d somehow managed to not let it get to his head, and Jade was easy going enough to mostly just find it funny. 

Seobin’s eyes fall on Minwoo, and for a second, his smile drops. Minwoo meets his eyes and sees guilt. “Minwoo.” He says. “Can I have a word with you in private?" 

The boys give him a look, and Bohyung gives him a wordless clap on the shoulder that Minwoo has learned means 'good luck.’ They have no idea what Minwoo did last night. Minwoo will never tell anybody what he did last night.

"Are you… okay?” Seobin asks, as they step out into the hallway. Minwoo just nods, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. Seobin stares at him for a few seconds, as if he’s expecting him to crumble. Minwoo didn't. He'd come home last night and taken a long, scalding shower. And when he went to his room and Harin asked him where he’d been, he’d just answered 'out.' 

Minwoo had been partying a lot recently. He'd been hooking up a lot, too. None of the other boys had even questioned that he was gone, because he tends to be, these days. And so he doesn’t have to tortue himself over this. If he recontextualizes the whole thing, if he tries really hard, it doesn’t have to be any different than any of the other meaningless, faceless men he’d been going home with. 

“If you need…” Seobin trails off. He's uncomfortable again. It's weird. Minwoo had always known him as stoic, authoritative. it’s disarming to see feelings on him. “If you need a day off, or to go home early, if you’re sore-”

Minwoo suddenly recognises the discomfort as a straight guy talking about gay sex thing, and shakes his head. “I’m not. It’s not, like…” He trails off, hoping that Seobin will get it. He looks at him with a tilted head, and Minwoo sighs. He doesn’t know why he’s saying this. He doesn’t think you’re supposed to be an idol and tell your CEO that you’re gay. “It wasn’t my first- I know how to, like… not be sore, after.”

Seobin purses his lips, and takes a slow nod, paired with an inhale through his nostrils. “I didn't know you…” trailing off, he puts his hands on his hips, and says. “Well. That's fine.Just be careful with that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re really okay?” He asks. Minwoo really just wants him to go away.

“Yes, sir." 

Seobin utters an awkward goodbye, and sets off down the hallway. Minwoo watches him leave, and he doesn’t exactly know what comes over him, but before he can question it, he calls out; "Sajangnim?”

Seobin turns around quickly, making his way back down the hallway. “yes?" 

"I'd like…” Minwoo doesn’t know if what he’s about to request is something he really wants, or if it’s just a way to look back on this in the future and pretend about how things really went, as if there’s any gain for him here. But he asks anyway. “If you see any openings, I'd like to give hosting a try. Like, on music shows." 

Seobin nods. Minwoo knows he’s not supposed to straight up ask for things like that, but he figures Seobin probably owes him, and Seobin seems to agree by the way his features soften, and he nods. "I can get that for you.”

“Thank you, sir.” Minwoo says, spreading a hand on the swinging door back into the dance studio. Before he can escape, Seobin speaks. 

“Minwoo… I'm sorry. I promise you’ll never have to do anything like that ever again.” He says. 

Minwoo just nods, and enters the dance studio.

He’s happy to put a door between them.

[garotadoinverno]

Devil in I - Lenalee Lee

Depois de períodos tão turbulentos, não é como se os pais de Lenalee realmente tivessem ficado chocados com seu relacionamento com Seungsoo. Ainda mais depois de verem o quão mais alegre ela estava por estar podendo vivenciar algo que ela sequer imaginava que um dia realmente pudesse acontecer com ela. Sequer sabia qual seria realmente seu futuro, porque se perguntasse até uns meses atrás, ela duvidava até mesmo que fosse conseguir se formar algum dia. Então, era mérito dela ter conseguido passar por tudo isso e ainda ter feito o suficiente para manter suas notas boas na escola, o que fez com que não conseguissem sua expulsão no ano anterior. A presença agora de Seungsoo era um bônus muito bem-vindo de que as coisas poderiam melhorar e muito. Tinha orgulho de andar de mãos dadas com ele pelos arredores da escola. Sabia que ele tinha muito mais a perder estando com ela, do que o contrário, já que a vida de adulta dela se iniciava agora e ele já tinha uma carreira estabelecida, por isso, quando se tratava dele, ela tentava não piorar a situação com sua energia impulsiva. Todo dia se sentia grata por Seulki a ter levado para um jantar em sua casa, o que acabou ocasionando tudo isso. E em toda oportunidade que encontrava a amiga, tinha certeza que ela podia ver isso estampado em seu rosto.

E estava muito feliz sim de poder se formar junto com parte de seus amigos, se orgulhar de todos os seus feitos, mas não via a hora daquela cerimônia encerrar logo para poder se reunir a Lim. Primeiro, porque sabia que ele precisaria voltar para a França no dia seguinte, e depois, porque desde que havia voltado para Maejig Senteo, só conseguia vê-lo casualmente. Segundo, que seus planos eram dar para ele na primeira oportunidade que tivesse. Por isso, quando toda a cerimônia com os alunos se encerrou, praticamente saiu correndo em direção ao mais velho com um enorme sorriso no rosto.

– Um presente? – Olhou com curiosidade em direção a ele, subindo as mãos pelos braços dele, até a nuca do maior, quando ele a beijou. Entrelaçou os dedos aos dele, praticamente grudada em seu braço, tanto pela diferença de altura entre eles, quanto pelo fato de que ela realmente se sentia confortável de estar tão próxima a ele. Acenava para um amigo e outro pelo caminho, em um cumprimento sútil, enquanto o sorriso permanecia em seu rosto.

Ao menos até entrarem na primeira sala vazia encontrada em Maejig. O olhar subiu até o rosto de Seungsoo, enquanto seus lábios permaneciam entreabertos, sentindo a mão dele em seu pescoço. Apenas assentiu com a cabeça a pergunta feita por ele, sentindo seus lábios serem tomados pelos do maior segundos depois.

Seu corpo sempre ansiava pelo dele e o quanto parecia se encaixar perfeitamente, por mais que ela fosse muito menor. Os toques dele, assim como a pressão que fazia contra sua pele, fazia o corpo de Lee se incendiar. Sequer conseguia se lembrar que ao lado de fora estava acontecendo uma cerimônia de encerramento de ano letivo com todos os familiares de alunos por ali, incluindo seus próprios pais. Especialmente, quando sentiu os dedos dele tocarem sua buceta. Só de pensar em dar para aquele homem, ela ja ficava molhada, quem dirá quando ele sabia exatamente como fazer a garota praticamente rebolar contra os dedos dele, só pra sentir um pouco mais daquela sensação. – Você sempre me fode tão bem. 

E era verdade, porque se não fosse ele afundando os dedos na boca dela, fazendo com que sentisse o próprio gosto, quando ficou de costas para ele naquela sala, era capaz de Maejig Senteo ter ouvido ela gritando e implorando para ele ir mais forte e mais fundo. Precisava apoiar as mãos contra a mesa e mesmo assim, sentia seu corpo se chocando contra a mesa, mas não era ela quem iria reclamar, porque em toda oportunidade estava pedindo por mais, ainda mais quando sua pele parecia tão sensível com os tapas que ele desferiu em sua bunda, até o momento em que o orgasmo a dominou e precisou se segurar firme contra aquela mesa, enquanto seu corpo estremecia, ainda sentindo o pau dele dentro dela, enquanto sua buceta praticamente o mastigava depois de todo aquele torpor de sensações. 

Por mais que seu corpo ainda estivesse trêmulo, fez questão de se ajoelhar e aproveitar todos aqueles jatos que ele tinha para lhe oferecer, e que considerava que era seu por direito, não desperdiçando absolutamente nada, porque realmente adorava e fazia questão de receber em toda oportunidade que tinha.

Não tinha como dizer que isso não a deixava feliz, porque apesar da sensação de fraqueza natural do corpo nesses momentos, o sorriso em seu rosto era enorme. – Uma viagem? Eu adorei! – Estava realmente sendo sincera, até seus olhos captarem a caixinha azul que a deixou completamente estática na frente de Lim. Não porque não estivesse feliz, mas porque se perguntassem para a Lenalee de seis meses atrás, se ela realmente esperava vivenciar algo assim, nunca, jamais, iria passar pela sua cabeça que isso fosse possível. Não com ela, pelo menos, ao ponto que sequer percebeu quando uma lágrima escorreu pelos seus olhos e se viu esticando os braços para se encaixar contra o peito de Seungsoo. – Eu aceito ser a senhora futura Lim. – E só então o enorme sorriso voltou a moldar seus lábios.

#lenalee #prompt

[intotheroaringverse]

Seungmin Lim: Your lips, my lips, apocalypse

Afeto era medido de uma forma muito estranha para Seungmin.

Tinha essa relação com Seulki, a irmã com quem ele tinha crescido na maior parte da sua vida. Bastava ela lançar um olhar desamparado e ele sabia que o assunto era sério e importante para ela e que precisava dele. Eles não costumavam trocar palavras sobre isso, mas ele sabia que ela contava com ele quando se sentisse especialmente sozinha. Também tinha o seu modo de se relacionar com Sihun, que era atípica. Na maior parte, estavam um gritando com o outro sobre torcer para que um deles acabasse saindo do testamento, fosse por desonra familiar, fosse por acidente, fosse por qualquer coisa. Mas se o menor estivesse realmente mal, ele o levaria para sair e se certificar ia que ele tivesse um dia cheio e feliz. Novamente, eles não trocavam uma palavra só sobre como se sentiam, eles tinham meios de se fazer entender. Seungsoo não entrava na lista desses afetos porque nunca teve tempo de desenvolver nada com ele e os dois morarem no mesmo país não tinha resultado na aproximação que ele imaginava.

Logo, como explicar que estava tendo sentimentos para alguém que supostamente não deveria nem estar ali em seus braços, enebriando seus pensamentos e o fazendo tão confortável que podia fechar os olhos e relaxar sob seu toque?

O desastre começou quando ele estava indo para sua sala, entre uma aula e outra, e avistou aquela coisinha andando pelos corredores. Se aproximou na intenção de perguntar quem era e o que estava fazendo ali, mas assim que ele a mediu com os olhos, de repente esqueceu que tinha uma postura a ser seguida e decidiu flertar com ela. Seungmin tinha como esporte o flerte, então não tinha realmente nada fora do padrão ali. Nada até o momento em que ela simplesmente saiu correndo de sua sala ao ouvir a voz de sua nova colega de trabalho, o deixando com tesão e confuso ao mesmo tempo.

A carta chegou para ele durante uma reunião com Ms. Leblanc sobre o planejamento de aulas para o resto do semestre e sobre as leituras que ele pretendia indicar aos seus alunos.

— Eu… Claramente tenho ideias bastante… — seu cenho se franzia conforme absorvia as palavras de que, oras, Kiri parecia uma coisinha porque ainda era uma estudante e uma estudante de Mahoutokoro. Guardou a carta no bolso do blazer e entrou em estado profundo de contemplação durante o resto da reunião, até chegar no conforto dos seus aposentos e perguntar, bem direto, ao seu advogado: — Se eu pedir um contrato de confidencialidade para você, em quanto tempo ele sai?

E deveria ser uma vez só. Uma vez e ele pularia fora, porque era risco demais. Porque se seu pai soubesse, ele lhe cortaria do clã. Porque aquilo poderia custar toda a confiabilidade que ele vinha tentando conquistar nos últimos meses com o pai desde quando saiu do exército. Mas mesmo depois de quase morrer com uma bola de cristal na cabeça e ter que pagar uma multa caríssima para não ficar na cadeia, Seugmin ainda pensava na forma como Kiri Cheng sorriu para ele e disse sim quando ele disse a ela "minha vez" e passou a fodê-la como se sua vida dependesse disso depois dela ter feito o mesmo com ele.

Foi quando as cartas começaram a se multiplicar.

Era hipócrita da sua parte sempre assinar escrito um "queime depois de ler", quando sua gaveta da mesa de trabalho estava entulhada das cartas e bilhetes da garota, organizados em ordem cronológica. Toda a história registrada de como eles se provocavam em toda oportunidade, até darem um jeito de cruzarem o espaço físico e então afundarem em lençóis, o do dormitório dela, o do quarto dele no chateau.

Supostamente, deveria ser um entretenimento, um risco enorme para os dois, que fazia com que tudo fosse ainda mais perigoso e intenso, os fazendo se sentir vivo. A cada encontro, Seungmin jurava que estava prestes a encontrar seu fim definitivo por estar quebrando tantas regras de uma única vez, mas que valia tanto a pena quando sentia o gosto da buceta dela na sua língua, depois de tantos dias ansiando por isso.

E quanto mais complexo ficava, mais parecia atraente. Como não continuar comprando aquela briga se o que ele mais gostava na sua vida era de um desafio? Como não querer ir atrás quando ele contava os dias para ver aquela silhueta vindo em sua direção, carregando consigo um aroma que ele não sabia descrever e o sorriso mais cativante que ele já tinha visto em toda a sua vida?

Foi nesse momento que ele devia desconfiar que não era pela proibição.

Só foi chegar a essa conclusão quando tinha chegado ao extremo de comprar uma passagem de avião para que ela viesse até Cannes, depois de ferrarem com todos os meios de locomoção entre eles dois. Não era porque ele precisava de uma foda, não era porque ele não parava de pensar em todas as coisas sujas que eles fariam juntos assim que estivessem no mesmo metro quadrado. Era porque ele precisava vê-la. Apenas vê-la.

O calor do corpo da garota estava o deixando tão mal acostumado que ele simplesmente adormeceu ao invés de levá-la ao aeroporto, a fazendo perder o vôo e tendo que pegar o posterior. Seungmin queria botar a culpa na maciez da cama e no champagne bebido, mas ele sabia que era porque estava brincando com os cabelos dela, beijando despropositadamente sua testa, abraçando sua cintura e ouvindo toda e cada uma das aflições que ela tinha com toda a atenção do mundo. Ele simplesmente sabia que era porque ele se importava com ela e porque Kiri tinha ele na palma de sua mão se quisesse.

— Eu realmente… — sussurrou contra os cabelos dela, tentando encontrar uma forma de expressar aquilo. — Eu realmente…

Realmente o quê, afinal? Gostava mais daqueles momentos quietos e íntimos do que de transar com ela, algo que ele achava que era uma experiência sem igual? Gostava de saber mais sobre ela e sobre tudo que a fazia ser tão especial para ele? Se sentia livre o suficiente para contar o quanto sua vida era fodida e como ele estava correndo atrás da aprovação paterna quando claramente ele nunca teria porque ele era tudo menos o que o pai queria que ele fosse? Sentia que ela era a primeira pessoa que ele genuinamente sentia que não conseguia ficar longe por muito tempo porque não passava nem mesmo uma hora sem pensar nela?

— Eu realmente perdi a hora — disse por fim, beijando a nuca dela. — Vamos, espertinha, você tem um vôo pra pegar.

Ele a viu entrar naquele avião e sentiu seu coração se espatifando em um milhão de pedaços. Porque ela tinha que partir. Porque não era supostamente para nada daquilo estar acontecendo. Ela tinha uma vida inteira pela frente e que ele não podia ousar estragar aqueles sonhos e objetivos sendo nada menos que o ímã para todos os traumas que carregava dentro de si. Kiri merecia alguém melhor do que ele era, e deveria mesmo saber disso.

Seungmin chegou a conclusão de que ela tinha decidido seguir em frente quando suas cartas e passagens começaram a ser recusadas sem nenhuma justificativa. Ele quis fingir que nada daquilo o abalava e que em nenhum momento ele teve a ilusão quase febril de que eles poderiam dar certo e que eles poderiam dividir algo, criar algo. Mas era tão óbvio que ele tinha se apaixonado sozinho e que agora a aventura tinha se encerrado.

— Ela te deu um fora? — o tom de voz de Sejun dentro da lareira era acusatório.

— Você fala como se estivesse esperando que eu tivesse magoado ela ao ponto dela me odiar — Lim rebateu, andando de um lado para o outro em seu escritório.

— É o que você normalmente faria — o outro respondeu com um conhecimento de causa ímpar. Se instalou alguns segundos de silêncio antes que Kim se pronunciasse de novo. — Você está infeliz. E não é por levar um não.

— Isso vai passar.

— Seungmin.

— Sempre passa. É assim que as coisas são — respondeu, camuflando os sentimentos com um sorriso péssimo enquanto olhava as feições do outro na brasa. — Agora, me conta: quando você pretende comer a garota com quem você já mora junto e que fica todo cheio de voltas quando fala sobre?

Se desviasse sua atenção para alguma coisa, para qualquer coisa, ele poderia evitar de escrever novas cartas perguntando como ela estava e se tinha acontecido alguma coisa tão grave ao ponto dela nem ao menos ter se despedido. E ele sabia que despedidas eram feitas quando havia um mínimo de acordo mútuo. Certo? Era isso que ele devia esperar. Mas a coruja voltava exatamente como tinha partido e ele sentia que poderia fazer uma grande bobagem para compensar aquele vazio que sentia no fundo do peito.

— Você não pode ensiná-los a criar livros amaldiçoados! Perdeu a noção? — perguntou o vice-diretor a ele, prestes a arrancar os próprios cabelos.

— Eles me perguntaram, eu respondi — Seungmin retornou, sem emoção na voz. Até seu olhar cair sobre a nova edição d'O Observador sobre a mesa de Leroy. Um arrepio desceu por sua coluna. — De quando é isso?

— Você não responde, esse é o… o quê? O jornal? De hoje, chegou de manhã. Não é o que viemos discutir aqui — o britânico continuou, mas Seungmin não dava ouvidos.

Seus olhos passavam pelas letras pretas, ficando cada vez mais pálido e nervoso. Um bombardeio próximo a ilha de Mahoutokoro. A maré subiu. Vários tinham sido prejudicados. O número de mortos… ele fechou o jornal, sem ar.

— Eu preciso ir até lá.

— Onde? Para o Japão? Ninguém está indo até o Japão no momento. Ou saindo. Kate não veio trabalhar por causa disso.

— Eu tenho que dar um jeito. Preciso ir.

— Mr. Lim, a nossa reunião.

— Está cancelada. Eu me resolvo depois. Desconta do meu salário, sei lá — ele já se colocava de pé. — Preciso arranjar um portal para Mahoutokoro.

Nem mesmo que ele tivesse que criar um com as próprias mãos.

Enquanto saía em disparada pelos corredores, Seungmin tinha descoberto a forma de demonstrar afeto por Kiri que não tinha conseguido raciocinar até então. Ele estaria lá por ela, independente da catástrofe que estivesse acontecendo. Ele tinha que estar lá por ela, mesmo que ela não quisesse que ela estivesse. Era assim que ele conseguiria dizer o quanto ele a amava.

#seungmin lim #Spotify