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❝ The beauty of the world . . . has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder. -- Virginia Woolf, ‘A Room of One’s Own’ ❞
Memory is a fickle thing.
Because Jay remembers clearly when his mother and father fought over the smallest things. Can still practically hear the screaming matches accompanied by a symphony of jiggling car keys and slammed doors. But he can’t remember the good times, when his father took him out to eat and his mother laughed freely.
He hadn’t known then, anything at all. Wouldn’t have guessed that he’d be struggling in school whilst his mother tried to find a job. Never guessed that he’d cry himself to sleep for years, hoping his mother wouldn’t hear him sobbing like a little baby.
(“You’re my greatest gift,” she’d said, and Jay had felt like a thousand boulders had crashed down onto his shoulders.)
They separated after a while, each with angry furrows in their brows and sharp eyes ready to feast on whatever small mistakes they could notice. Like animals feeding on helpless prey.
Jay didn’t know what to do. So he shut his mouth and prayed to god he’d find an out somehow; whether an exit with flames over it and dark as devil, or a white door, it didn’t matter much to him.
He’d gotten one, and it was in the form of tears and harsh words.
He’d always been a little uncaring. Being uncomfortable in a space where he should have felt perfectly safe only made him less cautious, and more eager to leave.
After a while of switching houses constantly and travelling hours just to visit his father, they’d decided that he would stay with his mother.
(“I’m sorry, I know this must seem unfair to you.”
Jay was taught a lesson that morning. It wasn’t one his parents were aiming to engrave into him.)
And his father disappeared from his life. As soon as he had said I love you, he’d said goodbye Jongseong.
So Jay had learned to not trust, and the walls around his heart served him well when he’d learned of his mother’s new boyfriend, a guy a couple years older who made his mother smile like he’d hung the stars in the night sky.
Jay was suspicious. Wary, at best.
And they’d arranged a dinner, a small meeting that would allow the family to be introduced to each other. Jay agreed, and that was that.
It was set.
(All the demons creeping in, no
Another round trading shots with my ego)
When they finally met, Jay’s first thought about Sunghoon wasn’t, oh wow, he’s fucking beautiful.
No, it was actually, he walks like a princess.
Because he did, all dainty fingers tucked prim and proper into each other, chin tilted upwards and head cocking slightly towards the left when he glided (yes, he fucking glided) into the seat next to Jay. No smile, no mirth.
“You’re Jongseong,” Sunghoon announced, like he knew everything. Eyes glinting like a morning rain, and words like candy gone stale. Something short of distaste making itself known in the pull of his lips.
Jay hated his name. It reminded him of his father. It reminded him of a little girl holding his hand, eyes wide and gums showing in her wide grin.
(“You’re my sister.”
“Half.”
“Don’t butt in, father. ”)
“Call me Jay,” he said dryly, holding back a sigh as he glanced down at his phone. Wanting a distraction. And getting one in the name of Bisco’s pet, Niki. Then promptly ignoring it when he saw three exclamation marks and a rainbow emoji.
(Probably another freakout about sexuality and Sunoo, because Niki was weird like that and refused to accept that he held any sort of attraction towards people at all. )
Sunghoon laughed, a small thing that caused Jay to flush. Because Sunghoon was gorgeous and his laugh was soft, and Jay sort of had a thing for pretty people with quiet laughs. Pretty people who walked like they owned the world and everyone should get on their knees for them.
And nope. He was absolutely not going there with his future sibling.
“Well Jay, ” Sunghoon had muttered warmly, fingers brushing a strand of hair back from his forehead. Such a cliche move that Jay almost rolled his eyes. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m park Sunghoon.”
Cold eyes. Assessing. Swallowing Jay whole. It was a consuming thing, Sunghoon’s stare, and Jay felt like he was being burned alive from the inside out.
(“You have pretty eyes.”
“I know.”
“God you’re so full of yourself.”)
He’d raised his glass, wine barely a centimeter, and glanced up at Jay like he was waiting for something to happen. Like his fluttering lashes and his pink tinged cheeks would make Jay do something inappropriate.
(Or maybe Jay had been projecting, exactly like he’d been doing for years.)
“To our new family,” Sunghoon whispered, glass tilting, and Jay felt like a moth drawn to a flame.
“To our new family,” Jay echoed, and drank the rest of his wine quietly.
(Runnin' can't help me now
Your chains only drag me down)
Jay doesn’t think much of Sunghoon at first. He’s pretty, he’s funny in a sarcastic way, and he doesn’t spend much time with Jay once Jay and his father move in.
Then he finds out Sunghoon's a figure skater and everything goes to shit.
Because it started out small.
Small touches, soft caresses. Jay didn’t know what to do when Sunghoon wrapped a hand around Jay’s wrist, or ran his fingers down Jay's thighs carefully. Or when he smiled and kissed Jay on the cheek before a competition.
Then the touches turned to heavier stuff.
(‘I’m a little… agreeable I guess.”
“Sunghoon, you’ve literally never agreed with anything I’ve ever said.”
“That’s not what I mean.”)
Twirling in his room like a goddamn ballerina, shirt long and loose over his already lean frame. Practicing poses that Jay hadn’t even known were a thing. Legs spread, arms wide, back arched. Pure sin in the form of sport and amusement.
Jay burned. And it wasn’t something so easily put out.
Sunghoon knew, though.
Knew exactly what effect he had on Jay. Knew exactly what he was doing. Knew that he was driving Jay crazy with everything he was doing. And he enjoyed it, smile wide, nose scrunched up, hands curled into his lap like a good boy.
“You’re insane,” Jay whispered one night, thinking Sunghoon was already asleep. Nearly having a heart attack when he heard the bed creak, and Sunghoon’s quiet, small voice spoke over the whirring of their fan.
“Yeah,” Sunghoon exhaled. “We both are.”
“We shouldn’t.” Sunghoon gasps out.
They shouldn’t. They really shouldn’t. God, this is so wrong.
“Yeah,” Jay agrees, teeth nipping at Sunghoon’s bared throat softly. “We shouldn’t.”
They don’t stop, though. Not for their parents, or their friends who laugh at any oh step brother! innuendo. Not even for their dog sleeping just a few rooms away. This is all their own, and every shared touch makes the air feel that much warmer.
“Oh fuck.” Sunghoon mutters in a daze when Jay’s fingertips skim his shoulder softly, pulling at his shirt, cold shivers running down his spine when Jay’s lips rise up to press light kisses along Sunghoon’s jaw.
“That’s right,” Jay murmurs, voice soft and breathy. Barely more than a puff of air against Sunghoon’s feverish skin. “I’m gonna make you forget your own damn name.”
Sunghoon has no objections to that. Absolutely none, and it shows with how his dick twitches against Jay’s thigh. Cheeks flushing red when Jay grins sharply and presses Sunghoon harder against the wall.
“You know,” Jay continues as his hands make their way to Sunghoon’s ass, groping and squeezing in ways that make Sunghoon squeak in embarrassment. “When I first met you, I had no idea you were such a whore.”
Sunghoon moans. Jay smiles, teeth sharp.
“Imagine my surprise when I caught you and Heesung hyung going at it when mom and dad were out…”
(“Oh fuck hyung--”
“Jesus Sunghoon, isn’t your brother still here?”
“I don’t care, let him-- fuck!-- hear us.”)
“Could hear you all the way from my room.” Jay says lowly, tugging roughly at Sunghoon’s jeans. They’re soft, and slide off easily. Jay thanks god for that small mercy. “Bet you loved it. Probably got you all hot that I could walk in at any moment, didn’t it?”
(“You’re fucked up.”
Sunghoon grins, razor sharp and cold. Blood smeared on his lips, clothes torn. Jay thinks of him as a wild animal. Sunghoon doesn’t seem to care.
“Yeah, well, so are you. But you don’t see me yelling it around the streets of Seoul.”
“You’re fucked up.”
“Get a new line sweetheart.")
Sunghoon sucks in a sharp breath when Jay wraps a hand around his cock, nails digging into Jay’s shoulders from where he grips him with tense fingers. Jay smiles, all playful and mischievous and everything people used to go crazy over when he was still open and blooming.
He isn’t open. Doesn’t bloom. But Jay pushes that away, because honesty is the policy when he’s with Sunghoon. He gives in too easily, gives too much too fast, and he doesn’t care. Almost feels the anger and hatred leave his body in waves when Sunghoon holds his hand and leaves crescent shaped dents in Jay’s palm.
He can’t hate Sunghoon. Can’t play Sunghoon like he plays Jay. Can’t find it in himself to ignore Sunghoon when Jay’s the one who makes Sunghoon see stars. Can’t do anything but get on his knees and plead for more.
(Fight the fear
Blood, sweat, tears make the pain taste sweeter)
Sunghoon is panting, all red cheeks and bitten down lips. He looks like a dream. And Jay wants. Wants so badly that it pains him to pull away or to look away.
But the bed is close and Sunghoon is even closer and Jay doesn’t want someone bursting in because they hear a harsh thumping against the wall everytime Jay lifts Sunghoon up and drops him on his cock. (And fuck, ain’t that an image?)
“You’re so rough,” Sunghoon whines lightly when Jay pushes him down like he’s a goddamn feather. Jay snorts. Because Sunghoon, who’s made of coy words and graceful spins, doesn’t know true rough.
He doesn’t know. Probably never will, truly. But he seems to want it.
It’s there, in his pupils, blown wide with something that makes Jay want to do bad fucking things to him. There, in the arch of his back when Jay’s fingers squeeze hard on his bare thighs. There, in the way he throws himself at Jay with no caution and too much exhilaration.
“But you like it,” Jay whispers back, and Sunghoon flushes.
Pretty pink coats Jay’s vision as he swallows down whatever loud noises Sunghoon wants to let out when Jay fucks a finger into him, lube dripping dirtily down his skin. Sunghoon is all heat and shy words, and Jay is absolutely gone for him, in the best of ways.
The whole room is suffocatingly tense, warm air blasting everywhere and skin touching skin like there’s no space. There shouldn't be. Because they both want and Jay has never been good at suppressing his urges.
(“You’re impatient,” Sunghoon whispers against his lips softly. It’s started long before -- a rebellion that sparks hatred and runs along the edge of unreachable. “But all you want is me, right?”
Jay doesn’t confirm nor deny. They both know it’s true, anyways.)
“Fuck,” Sunghoon chokes out when Jay adds another finger, and presses them as deep as he can into Sunghoon. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Jay.”
Jay laughs breathily. “Yeah,” he mutters. “That’s the idea.”
Every exhale. Every scrape of nails. Every tense movement. Every shift in Sunghoon’s body. Jay can feel it all, the tipping point like water on the edge of boiling. Simmering quietly, waiting to explode right beneath Jay’s fingertips.
“Want you so bad,” Sunghoon moans, eyes closed like he can’t bear to look at anything in the midst of his pleasure. His whole body is flushed, the same way it does when he gets out of the ice and changes out of sparkly shirts and the loose strings keeping him together.
Jay fucks him like that, three fingers and counting pumping in and out of him, gaze glued to Sunghoon and the way he twists and turns on top of the sheets, fingers twitching as he’s edged close to his end.
Sunghoon looks desperate. Sounds like he’d do anything and everything at the moment to be fucked into oblivion. Jay loves him like this, high strung and whining throatily. In a way that Sunghoon would never let anyone else see. (Because Jay’s his only exception. His partner in crime.)
“Ready for your prize,” Jay asks in a low voice, “princess?”
Sunghoon keens, pitched and needy. Jay wants to coo. “I guess you are,” he teases, touch running along the ridges of Sunghoon’s spine softly.
And he’s never been one to draw things out, either. Jay is blunt and he is direct and Sunghoon says it is a quality they both share. Sunghoon shows it by his words; Jay by his actions. (They are a parallel, and yet Sunghoon still seems like a dream. Untouchable.)
Sunghoon feels like utter heaven when Jay pushes in, his cock being enveloped by perfect heat and tense tightness that comes from uncertainty. Sunghoon is still nervous. Like it is their first time, like Jay hasn’t lost track of how many times they’ve been in this exact position.
“It’s been too long,” Sunghoon pants after a few seconds of resting there, and Jay snorts.
It’s only been a week. A whole week, and Jay’s already gone crazy without Sunghoon under him. He’s a goddamn drug, and Jay is unable to stop craving him. Can’t, when Sunghoon begs so prettily for his cock. Can’t, when Sunghoon looks at him with pleading eyes and nearly cries at the thought of getting fucked within an inch of his life.
And Sunghoon begs a lot. Whining, grasping, drowning in the pleasure Jay grants him.
It’s heady, the power. A heady, naughty thing. Jay loves it, the feeling of Sunghoon’s muscles turning to jelly the moment Jay moves, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, staining his eyelashes with crystal droplets.
“Please,” Sunghoon cries out brokenly, and Jay barely hears him over the sound of his own moans. But the word is a little more than captivating in its tone, and all Jay can see is how Sunghoon’s eyes go hazy, how he bites down on his lower lip and pulls at Jay’s collar softly, with no strength.
“Okay,” pops out of Jay’s mouth, and Sunghoon melts into the bed like it’s all he wanted to hear.
He feels like he’s doing something bad to Sunghoon when he holds him down and fucks him so hard tears run down his face. He feels like he’s taking away something pure; replacing good with something devious and cruel.
But he reminds himself that Sunghoon craves this as bad as Jay does, and it all fades away.
The thoughts leave, one by one, until all that’s left is Jay’s own gasps accompanied by Sunghoon’s broken whines. Body feeling hot and hands roaming everywhere as he leaves his mark on Sunghoon in the form of bruises and hickeys.
Sunghoon sounds hysterical when Jay wraps a hand around his cock, jerking him off in time to Jay’s thrusts, his whole body tensing and releasing in repeated movements. He looks like paradise, to Jay. Feels like burning hell and tastes like icy sharpness.
His pitiful moans break into high whine that make Jay drive into him deeper, pressing insistently against the bundle of nerves that make Sunghoon’s body give out. Touch shaking when he twists the sheets in between his fingers, dark hair plastered against his forehead.
It’s getting long. Jay wants to pull it. To feel the way Sunghoon trembles when he gets a little rough. To hear the cries Sunghoon lets out when Jay so much as brushes his fingers against Sunghoon’s skin.
He pounds into Sunghoon like he’s got nothing to lose, all fiery determination and cocky confidence that trickles out second by second. Sunghoon doesn’t do anything but take it, back arching beautifully and breath heavy.
Jay wants to absolutely ruin him for anyone else. Wants Sunghoon to think of him when he’s in another’s bed. Wants Sunghoon to be all his, all his. Because if someone takes him, Jay doesn’t know what he’ll do.
“Oh my god,” Sunghoon gasps out, cheeks flushed and big eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Please, please, please .” He doesn’t sound like he knows what he’s begging for anymore, but Jay wants to give it to him anyways.
Because to Jay, Sunghoon’s whole existence is a complicated string of varying chains, tangling and untangling and forming something so beautiful that it hurts to look at. That is Sunghoon.
But it is not the Sunghoon who moans Jay’s name like a prayer. It is not the Sunghoon who grips the sheets so tight that they nearly rip. It is not that Sunghoon, yet they are one and the same.
And when Sunghoon cums, Jay’s name on his lips, body shuddering with the force of a violent wave, Jay feels like he’s been granted something special.
He doesn’t know what it is yet, but he’d like to know.
(Sunghoon smiles, all pretty eyes and trembling pink lips, and leaves the rink with a fluttering wave that haunts Jay for days.
“You were amazing,” Jay breathes out.
Sunghoon laughs. It’s beautiful.
Beauty comes in different forms. For Jay, beauty is Sunghoon in skates and gaze focused on his movements.
For Jay, beauty is a cold, cold prince.
And to Sunghoon, beauty comes in the form of a new life, one spent on his feet and spinning like he’s invincible.)
(Rise up from the ground
Gonna make you a believer
Stand up, stand up
Show me what you’re made of)