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15 February 2011 @ 04:17 pm
judgment [nine]  
nine: premonition
kyuhyun/zhou mi ; pg-13
when fate plays games with you, when there is no one for you to trust, when deceit hangs in the air, are you still willing to take love under your wings?
dedicated to doumyoujitsukas

001 | 002 | 003 | 004 | 005 | 006 | 007 | 008

-

Kyuhyun had felt happy before, in his close-to-two-decades-of-life, when he won the Math Olympiad in elementary school, when he won that district-level art competition two years ago, when he'd gotten Starcraft II's extension pack, even, but he decided he had never been anywhere near as happy as he felt now, as his lips moulded against Zhou Mi's like matching puzzle pieces when he kissed back, clutching at the other's shirt and closing all distances between them, physically and emotionally. He could feel Zhou Mi's hands in his hair, long fingers entangling with the fine, dark brown strands, keeping him as close as possible. It was too short, Kyuhyun decided, when they broke the kiss for air, but he couldn't have wished for a more blissful first kiss. He'd never had someone who truly wanted to care for and about him, much less someone who wanted to be with him. He was helpless against the smile that Zhou Mi wore - hopelessly delighted - the front of his shirt crumpled from Kyuhyun's clutching, his lips redder than they'd been before. He could see every little detail, from each individual eyelash to the beautiful way his eyes would crease when he smiled. They both panted softly, taking in fresh mouthfuls of air, yet Kyuhyun longed for that suffocating sensation again, if only they could stay that way forever, if only he could feel Zhou Mi's lips on his again.

He could feel Zhou Mi's wonderfully warm breath blowing against his face when the other ran his fingers through his slightly-longer-than-before hair and pushing runaway strands away from his face, as if to take everything about him in in entirety without interruption. "I-I didn’t... know you'd feel the same way," Zhou Mi whispered, "I've loved you, since that day we met, I just never realized it till recently. And I'm a guy. Y-You don't mind?" Kyuhyun brushed away the other's doubts by kissing him again, this time brief yet tender all the same, "I don't. I've never had someone care. I began to like you, when you helped me that day. And when you continued to care, each time we met, I could only fall in one direction," he murmured, bringing their lips together a third time, and just before they met, "In love."

-

Zhou Mi bit back a lustful moan that pooled at the back of his throat as Kyuhyun nipped with his skillful mouth at the skin on his neck, sending wave after wave of pleasure through his body. He held Kyuhyun's head firmly in place with his fingers, pulling almost desperately at the strands of dark brown hair, silently begging him not to stop. The younger would find a spot and bite, his tongue swiping out immediately after to soothe the stinging sensation, licking trails, patterns across his skin. He hadn't any idea how he'd ended up pressed against the wall by the bed; he swore they'd been out on the balcony not too long ago, but it didn't really rank high on his list of things to worry about at the moment. He was pretty sure he'd been fading in and out of consciousness - or sanity, at least - when he found himself tumbling noisily onto the plush, huge bed on top of Kyuhyun, messing up the impeccably neat sheets, ravaging Kyuhyun's pretty, undamaged lips in a fierce kiss the younger seemed to reciprocate with equal vigour. It became a tangle of limbs and soft, harmonized moans, groaning the other's name like it was a drug, a drug that Zhou Mi was so helplessly addicted to. Zhou Mi slid a hand under the loose white shirt that enveloped Kyuhyun's delicate frame; revelling in the soft skin, the curve of his waist. The younger, as if instinctively, pushed him away, sitting up abruptly. Zhou Mi halted, afraid he'd gone too far, beginning to pull away. Kyuhyun grabbed his wrist, shaking his head desperately, his fingers so tight they bore into Zhou Mi's skin, "N-No, don't go! I'm sorry, it's just- my- I don't think I'm ready. Y-Yet. Please, stay, don't go," he begged.

Zhou Mi laid down cautiously on the tempting, now-rather-flat pillow next to Kyuhyun's head, pressing his lips against the other's temple. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have," he whispered, brushing strands of the soft brown hair he loved so much behind Kyuhyun's ear as he moved so both of them were level; dark, rich mahogany bore into his eyes, a little tinge of orange cream from the table lamp by the bedside, the only source of light in the slowly darkening room; he noticed the sky had turned a dark shade of blue with traces of pink - night was fast approaching. Kyuhyun curled into his arms (Zhou Mi loved the way his arms seemed like they were made to accommodate only Kyuhyun's body, every curve fitting nicely in place), resting his head in the crook of Zhou Mi's neck, the ends of his hair tickling the skin there. "You asked me... about me. My family, it's broken. I never had a proper one," the younger said quietly, breaking the still night air, both his arms folded between their chests, clutching at the fabric of Zhou Mi's shirt again. "My dad left me. When I was really little, maybe two, three years old. He never got to see me grow up. I-I don't even remember how he looks like. I don't have siblings. And," he paused, burying his face in Zhou Mi's soft shirt, his voice muffled, but not choking with tears. Zhou Mi tightened his arms around Kyuhyun, uncertain if he wanted to hear the rest. "My mother, she- she's a drug lord. She sells drugs, she sleeps with kingpins. That's where we get all the money from. That's why our house is so big. But she's high on drugs too. She parties at clubs, then she gets hung over and she stays over at anyone's place. That's why she never comes home, why the house is empty tonight. I last saw her on Tuesday. It's been like that for fifteen or so years."

Zhou Mi hadn't realized how tightly he'd been holding Kyuhyun, how tightly his heart was clenching as he heard Kyuhyun's story, a story that shouldn't be told my such an innocent soul. The younger pulled away slightly, enough to free his arms, dabbing at his eyes with the long sleeves of his shirt that reached past his wrist. Zhou Mi hated the dark dots of liquid that stained the fabric a dark grey, hated the soft sniffling that seemed unnaturally loud in his ears, hated the broken look that resonated in Kyuhyun's eyes. Chou Kyuhyun was a boy, just a boy; he should be enjoying life, smiling the carefree, happy smile of a young adult, just out of his teenage years and phasing into adulthood. Not this, not this horrible story that would forever mar his childhood, his life, even; he didn't deserve the slightest bit of this, he was a beautiful person, and Zhou Mi wanted more than anything in the world to take everything away from him, selfishly take every painful memory and replace it with all the happy thoughts that should be in its place. Take away the pain Kyuhyun felt from the family he never had, the pain from his friends in school, the pain from social pressure, anything that hurt him. He restrained a bitter smile, Who on earth are you trying to kid, Zhou Mi? You, you're the one who's going to give him the most pain he's had in his life, and you know it. You're going to destroy him, from the inside out, even if you don't want to. Somehow, you will.

-

Kyuhyun willed his tears to stop, forcing them back into the well that was about to burst, hating himself for telling Zhou Mi the truth. He knew the elder would take it all onto himself - after all, that was the Zhou Mi he'd fallen in love with - blame it on himself, of not being able to help Kyuhyun get out of the mess he was in. He folded his arms against Zhou Mi's chest again; he'd never felt so warm anywhere around winter. He'd never felt like he belonged somewhere this much, and he snuggled closer to the Chinese's warm body. "And you? What about your family?" he asked, surprised by how stable his voice sounded. He'd always been playing with fire; there was a thin line between fragility and calm, a line that more often than not was simple to severe, just a pull would do it, it wouldn't need scissors or a blade. Zhou Mi took in a deep breath, then, "T-They... are back in Wuhan. Living life normally," he whispered, and his voice was racked with an emotion Kyuhyun couldn't quite pinpoint. It was shaking, with a mix of so many feelings that it was impossible to decipher how he felt, but Zhou Mi didn't explain, and Kyuhyun didn't want to press him for it. Instead, he kissed Zhou Mi lightly on his jawline, trying to tell him it was okay, expressing what he couldn't in words. There was a sense of desperation to it, Kyuhyun felt, the way they clutched at each other, as if the other will disappear if either one loosened their grip. It was a ball of warmth, comfort, happiness, and Kyuhyun hadn't ever felt so welcome before. He stretched a little to flick the light off and settled back into Zhou Mi's arms, warm even in the cold night air, cold silence. "We should sleep," he whispered, almost as if he needed to sleep, needed to run away from the pain that pierced his heart. He figured Zhou Mi agreed, when the Chinese nodded somewhat, lifting Kyuhyun's face upward and bringing their lips together one last time that night, a long, drawn-out kiss that seemed as if they were both trying to express something - i love you, please don't leave me, hold me like this forever, i want to be warm like this no matter the season - Kyuhyun could feel Zhou Mi caress his cheek, long fingers tracing his jawline, then down his neck, chest, stomach, fingers intertwining with his tightly, pulling both their hands up to their chests. He could hear both their heartbeats, as if connected to Zhou Mi by their fingers, beating in perfect synchronization, not missing a single beat.

The kiss broke, and Zhou Mi leaned in to whisper into Kyuhyun's ear, breath tickling his skin, "I love you," the grip on his fingers tightened, pulling Kyuhyun even closer into his embrace, absolutely no distance between their bodies, "I love you, so much." And Kyuhyun thought, although he couldn't be sure - just before he fell into the tempting trap of sleep - Zhou Mi'd whispered, "I'm so sorry."

-

His legs hurt. It hurt, a lot more than it should, because he was barely twenty, and he should be more fit than this. Tree branches clung to his skin, the clothes he was wearing, tearing at anything it came into contact with, like an alligator that sat still in silent waters, and only attacked when something ran through it. He could smell blood, so much of it; there was even a thin line of fresh, scarlet red running along his arm, visible through the huge tear in his sleeve. There were strands of thread being dyed red by the slowly hardening blood, then a splinter somewhere near the cut in his shoulder (he belatedly realized he couldn't flex his arm as much as he should). The dark hair framing his face blocked his vision when he ran, a darker black than the cold night sky, where not a single star lit the way. He couldn't see the moon either, and he supposed it was hidden behind a cloud somewhere, but it was dark, so very dark, and he couldn't see where he was going. He climbed a bump, his feet slipping on the wet leaves, a crunching sort of gurgle coming from the moisture beneath his feet. The wind was light but brittle, blowing the occasional droplet of liquid onto his face. Blood, there was so much blood, he could smell it, and suddenly his vision became nothing but red, scarlet red, so much blood--

Zhou Mi's eyes darted open, and even in his subconscious, groggy state, he felt a wave of fear; he could hear his heart pounding furiously in his chest, as if trying to fight its way out, he could feel his entire body shaking, feel the sweat that drenched his forehead, his back. But he could feel fingers between his, clutched tight the way it was before he'd fallen asleep, and then realized Kyuhyun's peaceful, sleeping form pressed gently against his. He couldn't quite see his face in the darkness, but he could hear his breathing - calm, quiet, and he felt so warm, blissfully warm. Zhou Mi shut his eyes again, seeking refuge in the warmth that suddenly came in waves, and breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't red anymore.

-

Siwon rummaged through the sizeable closet in his room, possibly the biggest thing in the small space. He'd always been one to care for how he looked; he knew that first impressions mattered a lot, and it was the first thing he thought about packing when he'd moved out to stay with Hangeng. He'd known his parents wouldn't approve of his relationship - people of his kind, they'd said, preferring someone of the same gender. Naturally, neither did Hangeng's, of course. Siwon had never been someone to refuse anything his parents didn't want: he'd been a devout Christian all his life, listening to every single word they said and doing just as they wished, so he was pretty surprised himself when he simply picked himself up and moved. They'd gotten a small apartment in town, nearer to school than his house, but he figured it couldn't be too far away because he didn't have that overpolished, ridiculously lavish limousine to fetch him to and fro anyway. They both took part-time jobs, Hangeng at a bakery (and Siwon knew how lucky they'd been to score someone that talented in cooking) and he himself at a modelling agency. Life didn't seem easy, and they were all on their own, but Siwon couldn't have been happier. His fingernails scraped the grainy wood of the cupboard wall before he grasped a somewhat cotton-ish fabric and pulled it out from underneath all the other clothes, ruining the neatly-folded stack, throwing the shirt towards Hangeng. "There, the red shirt you wanted," he sighed, sliding the closet door close and falling back onto the bed.

He propped himself up on his elbow and dug through the bowl-like nightstand Hangeng had brought along for his Bible, the tome he'd always turn to when he felt unsettled, or even when he just needed to relax and read something. The Chinese crawled into bed with him, bringing with him an empty sketchbook and a pencil, and they sat in silence for very many moments, each on his own. Then without looking up from his sketch, Hangeng asked, "What happened to Zhou Mi? I thought you said you'd normally hang out with him Monday night." Siwon slid a finger in between the two pages he was reading, then ran his other hand through his slightly ruffled hair. "I do. He called me while you were at the bakery this evening, and he said something turned up. I'd bet you the money my dad still has that he's over at that kid's - what's his name, Kyuhyun - place. I just hope he doesn't end up raping the guy in the middle of the night or something," Siwon rolled his eyes, turning a little bit.

Hangeng drew another line or two, the blunt pencil etching light grey lines onto the crisp white paper, then he stopped, turning to face Siwon with an unreadable expression. The forced mask collapsed though, a sense of agony creeping up to his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, racked with emotion, as if mortified at himself, what he'd done. Siwon hated it when Hangeng thought this was his fault - that he had to live without the luxury he'd experienced for the last twenty or so years, that he had no family to turn to, that they were fending for themselves, he hated it so much. "It's not your fault, Geng. Stop blaming yourself for this. I haven't been happier in my life, okay, and if having a family means I can't love who I want to love, then there's no point, is there?" There was another long pause, this time longer, and it seemed an eternity before any of them said something. When Hangeng finally spoke, though, his voiced sliced through the cold silence like a hot knife through butter. "You do know... that if they find out, they're going t-to kill him, right?"

Siwon rested his head on the bed's headboard, his eyelids fluttering close. He could feel Hangeng's fingers intertwining with his, and as warm as they were, he still felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold night air outside. He opened his eyes, staring back into Hangeng's grey ones, then pulled his gaze away to the Bible, skimming the words because he needed something, anything, to take his mind off what had just been said. But he wasn't taking any of it in, and finally answered in a horrified whisper, "Yes."



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