Series: 50 Shades of DBSK
Genre: AU, Angst, Smut
Warning: Mild watersport.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from the story. Please don't kill me.
Summary: How much is too much? Everyone has their breaking point and the constant push and pull starts to wear thin.
AN: My first JaeMin…possibly my last because I cannot deal and want to cry. Please note the warning though I hope you won’t let it scare you because it isn’t the focus of the story.
The man flings his phone across the room and watches as it bounces off the wall, leaving an angry black mark on the wall. He’s been ringing for hours. Hours. He’s fucking sick of this. This game of push and pull needs to end. But it has ended hasn’t it? They ended it last week for the upteenth time. He’s honestly lost count. He glares at his phone from where he is seated on the black leather sofa as he slouches down and stares up at the ceiling.
The last time was by the lake. He was stoic, the other man inconsolable. He remembers watching him cry, his heart hurting but it’s for the best. They are no good for each other. Their relationship too volatile, maybe even toxic. They love to the extreme and even then his former lover just keeps pushing. He keeps pushing. And him? He pulls and he keeps pulling. He’s afraid that if they keep at it, there will be no more lines to cross because they’d have crossed them all. There has to be a point where you just have to say stop. And he does. 5 days, 2 hours and 33 minutes ago.
The time before that they were standing in the rain. The other man holding a clear umbrella, sheltered as he stares dispassionately while he stands crying in the rain. The tears washing away the salty evidence of his love. His heart hurt then as he watched his former lover turn and walk away, dry under his umbrella as the cold rain soaks him to the bone. The chill in his heart colder than the most frigid winter rain.
And the time before that…
The man sighs. His eyes are damp and there’s nothing he can do about it. Oh he can fight it, but he always loses. Why must it be this way? That man makes him feel things he doesn’t want to feel. He makes him feel things he wants to feel. And he makes him feel things that he shouldn’t feel. And it is the last thing that is currently driving him to down bottle after bottle of water. He’s on his second bottle now. Old habits die hard they say. Time heals all wounds they say. Love conquers all they say.
He stares at the coffee table as he twists the cap off his third bottle. That’s half his water intake for the day in the last hour. Why is he doing this? He laughs derisively to himself. He knows why. He wants to feel closer to his former lover. The man he’s been trying to call for the last ten hours. Yes, ten hours. To beg maybe. To apologise. To tell him that he cannot live without the other, toxic relationship or not. Is this how battered women feel? He never understood how abused women return to their partners and now here he is, alone in his apartment, the city skyline winking in the distance, mocking him as he swallows a third of the bottle in a huge gulp, wanting his lover back. His belly hurts from all that water but he doesn’t care. He welcomes the pain. It’s the only way he can feel anything anymore.
The only way he can feel Jaejoong.
He hasn’t allowed himself to even think of his name, but there it is. It finally breaks through the confines of his mind.
He’s 24 now, the other man 26. They’ve been doing this since he was 15. He knows no other. At first it was just curious boys experimenting. But then he grew taller and filled out and the older man? He grew more and more beautiful as each day passed. Their clumsy and awkward fumbling turned into soft caresses. And from soft caresses they morphed into pain. Pain he inflicts because Jaejoong is too beautiful. Too unreal. He has to learn his place, doesn’t he? He doesn’t understand his need to possess the older man. But possess he does. And then somewhere along the way, he fell in love. He fell hard. And the tables were turned, and now it is him being possessed. Consumed. He will do anything for Jaejoong and the man knows this.
Then come the games. Jaejoong loves to play games. And Changmin plays along because he needs to. He wants to. He doesn’t know how the possessor becomes the possessed. Or maybe he does. Maybe he loves Jaejoong just that little bit more. Maybe the older man knows this. If he thinks his own earlier jealousy and need to have the inhumanly beautiful man to himself was bad, that very man eclipses everything. His jealousy is like a wild fire, licking up everything in its path, leaving nothing but scorched remains in its wake. But it’s all a game to him. Jaejoong pushes and Changmin pulls. It’s like a tug of war neither of them want to win. Neither of them know how to win. Because what happens if one of them does win?
But he pushes too hard sometimes, leaving Changmin on the very edges of sanity. But still he holds on. And when he can’t hold on anymore, they fight. They fight with fists and words. Poisonous words that hurt more than a vicious upper cut. They don’t hold back. And their last fight? Jaejoong pushed and instead of pulling, Changmin pushed back.
He lifts his left hand up and stares dispassionately at the heavy platinum band around his ring finger. He stares even as his mind replays the scene by the lake. The reason why Jaejoong cried. Jaejoong never cries. It is always Changmin who cries. That day at the lake, he’d thrown his ring into the water. At least that’s what his husband believes. But no, his ring had been in his jacket pocket, burning a hole in it. He’d thrown a silver duplicate. He remembers the stark horror on the beautiful man’s face as the colour drains out of his already pale skin when Changmin pulls off the thick band, making sure Jaejoong sees it, and then he flings it out into that expanse of water.
Jaejoong crumbled. He crumbled and Changmin walked away even as those broken sobs reach his ears. His heart hurt so badly, but it is for the better isn’t it?
His own laughter is more sob than mirth to his ears. Who is he trying to fool? He downs the last of the water in his bottle and tosses it at the bank of floor to ceiling windows, hearing it hit the glass but he is oblivious as he struggles to pull off the heavy band. He succeeds and his hand trembles as he brings it up to the dim light of the naked table lamp, the shade long gone as he destroyed the room in his agony. The engraved inscription is like a knife through his heart.
To die upon the hand I love so well
His hands shake as he fights to replace the ring on his finger as the tears blind him. He knows what he’s done. The real reason why Jaejoong finally breaks down.
He gets up, his movements sluggish, his belly full and his heart in pieces. Every night it’s the same. Three bottles. It is a fervent hope that maybe, maybe he’ll come back. But he never does and Changmin cannot blame him. The urge to go to the bathroom tickles at his senses but he ignores it. It’s a strange kind of torture, but it reminds him of his husband and if this is all he will get for the rest of his short life, he will take it.
He stumbles in the semi-darkness, knocking into furniture that’s been strewn everywhere. Jaejoong may have driven him to the brink of insanity but it is Changmin who has voluntarily taken that final step into the abyss. He makes his way to the bedroom, and enters the adjoining bathroom. He’s been sleeping on the couch in there for the past three nights. But not tonight. There’s no use hoping. The couch is actually a day bed. Custom made and upholstered in PVC. The red material is stark against the white tiled bathroom. Jaejoong always had a flair for the dramatic.
However, currently that piece of furniture is an eye sore for the young man and he strides past it without sparing it a glance as he goes through his nightly ablutions.
He stares at himself in the mirror as he dries his hair, his brown eyes large and wet. Always wet. He stares, taking in his lightly muscled frame, the line of hair from his belly button to his groin dark against his skin. He bites his bottom lip as he wills himself to stop thinking about it. To stop thinking about how Jaejoong used to nose his way down that path of hair. Treasure trail he called it. Pleasure trail more like it to Changmin. The low tug in his belly at the memories is an unwelcome one and serves to reinforce the fact that his bladder is full. It’s not hurting yet, but it will. But Changmin doesn’t care. He stopped caring five days ago. Pain is the only thing he can feel now. Nothing else matters.
He peels back the black covers of the large four poster bed and crawls between the cool sheets. The room is empty save for the bed and all its secrets. His hand rummages under his pillow and he pulls out a small moleskin notebook. It’s full of words and scribbles and crossed out paragraphs. He’s been writing in it for five days now. However, seven words recur repeatedly through those pages. And he just stares as he turns the pages, those words jumping out at him.
I’m sorry. I cannot live without you.
Changmin is trying to write a suicide note. But Jaejoong deserves more than just seven words. He deserves a thousand pages of words. He’s tried to write those thousand pages but he cannot. Instead he turns to the back of the notebook where he’s composed lyrics to accompany his latest piece of music.
(Don't be afraid) because you were left alone
Till the end of time (I'll let you know my love)
I'll protect you, (you know)
Because I love you, (I’ll let you know my love)
Push and pull. Give and take. Changmin closes his eyes as two tears slip out of the corner of each eye, his breath choppy as he surrenders to the darkness.
The quiet of the apartment is broken by the creaking of the heavy front door as it opens and shuts as quietly as the man can manage. He has no idea why he is here. They are over aren’t they? So why is he back? He sighs as he rubs at his eyes, to adjust to the darkness of the apartment. He doesn’t want to turn the lights on. He doesn’t want to see anything. He’s just here for one last look at his lover before he goes.
He walks slowly through the darkness, the only light coming from the wall of windows, but it is more than enough for him to see the destruction. Furniture upturned, books and magazines strewn everywhere. His feet crunches through glass and he is disappointed with himself for wearing house slippers. He can do with some pain. Even the 42 inch plasma screen once mounted securely on the wall is on the floor. Jaejoong shudders to think of the strength it takes for that particular bit of destruction. He continues walking but stops when his foot kicks at a plastic bottle that skitters noisily across the marble floor. He pauses, the sound extra loud in the stillness of the night. He takes another step forward and encounters another bottle. Jaejoong frowns as he squints in the darkness. His doe eyes are luminous in the dim light as he takes in the shadowy silhouettes of more empty bottles littering the floor. His heart starts thumping painfully in his chest. His heart that all but ceased to beat 5 days 5 hours and 2 minutes ago.
Jaejoong turns on the lamp by the couch and is stunned by the destruction that greets him with the light. In the shadows, everything looks muted but in the light, it is as if the room is crying in pain. There is shattered glass everywhere and the mess of broken furniture and small items is immense. The only thing left intact is their wedding portrait still hanging on the accent wall. And his heart starts thumping harder. He’s turned on the light for a reason though and he starts picking his way carefully around the room.
He counts twelve empty plastic bottles. Four nights. His heart is hammering so hard now that he has to press a palm against his chest to try and stop it from jumping out of his throat. It is a futile endeavour anyway as his heart races. He makes his way to their bedroom.
The moonlight is shining through the open curtains, the beam of light landing rather appropriately on the bed, illuminating the sole occupant lying on his back with a closed notebook on his chest that moves with the steady rise and fall of his breathing. Jaejoong clenches his fist and presses it against his mouth as he bites on his knuckle. He approaches the bed slowly, noting the destruction of the house stops at the threshold to their room. He doesn’t make a sound as he takes in the messy head of hair, dark against the white pillows. There is enough light for him to make out the streaks on Changmin’s face and his heart clenches painfully in his chest and he bites down harder on his knuckle. He reaches out a hand to pick up the notebook.
I’m sorry. I cannot live without you.
The beautiful man’s doe eyes fill with tears as he thumbs through the pages. He doesn’t get to the end before he drops it, fist pressed against his lips as he falls to his knees.
Changmin startles awake, unsure as to what’s woken him. The moonlight is bright and he squints and rubs at his eyes. Then he hears it. A muffled sob. And suddenly he is wide awake. He turns slowly to his left and sees a familiar dark head pressed against the side of the bed. The man’s shoulders are shaking as he cries into the bedding, his sobs muffled but the pain that comes from it is immeasurable. The relief Changmin feels is incomparable as he leans down to pull the man bodily up into the bed and into his arms.
No words are exchanged as they kiss, both Changmin and Jaejoong now crying, their tears flowing freely, seeping between their sweeping tongues, the salty taste is like a panacea for their broken hearts. The exchange of fluids is uninterrupted as Jaejoong presses Changmin back into the bed, their mouths fused together as he struggles out of his clothes and maneuvers to get under the covers. The younger man wraps around him almost instantly, as if trying to get as close as possible. Jaejoong rubs his hand up and down his side, wondering if Changmin has always been so skinny when he can feel the ridges of his ribcage as he skims his fingers across the smooth skin. His hand moves between their bodies, but he avoids the heavy cock pressing against him, instead slipping his hand behind it and pressing down hard against the younger man’s lower belly.
Changmin groans loudly into Jaejoong’s mouth before tearing their lips apart. The pain is acute, and he needs relief. He struggles to get out from under his husband to go to the bathroom, their usual games not really appropriate right now. However the thought dies in his mind as a strong hand keeps him in place, Jaejoong’s doe eyes are huge in his face, his skin glowing in the moonlight as he shakes his head. Changmin simply stares as he presses down his belly once again, causing his body to jerk in pain as he struggles to hold in his full bladder that is currently being abused. Appropriate is the wrong word to use because when have they ever been appropriate? This is normal for them. And he realises right then, after his actions of the last few days, that he truly doesn’t want it to be any different. This is him. This is them. The world and their straight-laced ideas of what is normal bedamned.
Jaejoong moves his hand down to fist the younger man’s cock, pumping it a few times, relishing the moans of his lover before he moves down to wrap his plump lips around the swollen tip.
Changmin knows how this plays out. Their games usually involving some sort of exquisite torment for him. Trying to get off with a full bladder takes a hell of a lot of concentration but the orgasm is intense. Though he is a little worried about them being in bed right now because accidents have occurred in the past. Despite enjoying the pain and intensity of his climax, and the fact that Jaejoong relishes being bathed in both cum that is occasionally followed by the accidental golden showers that occur, Changmin is not too keen on wetting the bed.
He moans as Jaejoong’s talented mouth laves over him, alternating between sucking him down whole till he is practically gagging on cock, to teasing sucks of the tip, his lips wrapped so perfectly and sinfully around Changmin’s length while his tongue swirls deliciously around the sensitive glands. His legs are splayed wantonly as Jaejoong kicks the covers off, the cool air is a shock to Changmin’s overheated body but it serves to heighten his senses as the older man starts to play with his balls, his fingers just as talented as his mouth. Jaejoong’s other hand is rubbing his belly gently, playing with that trail of hair, as he worships Changmin’s cock with his mouth. The lazy circles he makes with his hand travel higher and higher till they reach a perky nipple which he twists rather roughly, causing the younger man to buck reflexively, his cock hitting the back of Jaejoong’s throat hard. Even he winces and is about to apologise when he meets his husband’s eyes, and they are full of warning and Changmin stays silent. The hand on his belly flips, and Jaejoong crooks two fingers, a silent demand which the taller man quickly moves to comply with. He rummages under the pillows till his hand finds a small bottle which he pulls out and passes it to Jaejoong, even as he groans when the older man forces a dry finger tip just inside the tight ring of muscle. He is perilously close to losing it, thanks to his husband’s hot mouth; the nipping teeth, probing tongue and soft plump lips all combining to turn his senses upside down as he desperately struggles to control himself.
Jaejoong lubes up three fingers quickly, pressing a single digit in first as he continues working on Changmin’s leaking cock, his own moans matching the younger man’s as this is one of his favourite sexual acts. His finger unerringly presses against the wall of the tight channel, massaging the spongey spot roughly, eliciting a keening wail from Changmin who bucks harder into his mouth, his eyes wild as they stare at each other. He fits in a second and third finger in quick succession, not actually interested in prep but rather in foreplay. He doesn’t want to fuck Changmin, he wants Changmin to fuck him. But they need to settle something first.
He finger fucks Changmin hard, not giving an inch, wanting the younger man to come. He is moving restlessly and making low whining sounds as his head starts thrashing about the pillow, Jaejoong is purposefully avoiding his prostate for now, enjoying how tight the younger man is around his fingers and luxuriating in the taste of him in his mouth. His other hand pinches a nipple hard, twisting, eliciting a growl from the younger man as he raises his head, eyes cloudy with lust as their eyes meet and Jaejoong takes this moment to stab that spongey spot, just as he moves his hand down to press hard on Changmin’s lower belly, relaxing his throat.
Those luminous doe eyes never leave him though as Jaejoong swallows down spurt after spurt of hot cum while Changmin arches off the bed, his body so tense as he rides out his orgasm with a screaming wail, the intensity of his climax so strong that he is shuddering violently, even as tears spring from his eyes from the force of it.
Jaejoong keeps his mouth on the still-hard cock, sucking and licking and lapping, taking every single drop, his eyes drinking in the face of his younger partner as he comes down from his high, body slowly relaxing and meeting the bed once again. He doesn’t let go of his cock though, as he rolls it around in his mouth almost lazily, enjoying the softening organ, sucking on the skin and playfully using his tongue to flick at it. It is deceivingly domestic as Changmin reclines fully back into the bed, his head dropping back, a soft moan escaping his lips when Jaejoong pulls his fingers out of him. The older man is actually much stronger than the younger man, and he spreads his arms, the back of his upper arms secure over the top of the juncture of each thigh, his hands meeting just above the now soft cock that is still in his mouth.
With both hands, he suddenly presses down very very hard, dragging a stunned shout from Changmin who struggles desperately to buck Jaejoong off but it is too late.
Warm piss fills Jaejoong’s mouth as he drinks it down. He is actually the dominant partner in the relationship but with this one act, he is speaking a language only Changmin will understand. His dark eyes never leave his lover’s shocked ones as he swallows every single drop. When the hot stream slows to a trickle, Jaejoong moves his mouth slowly over the soft length, cleaning up an stray drops with his tongue, before pulling off.
The second Jaejoong’s mouth leaves his cock, Changmin leans up to haul the man once again on top of him, kissing him desperately, mouth sweeping the other’s mouth to taste himself. He cups the older man’s cheek tenderly as the man allows him to explore the warmth of his mouth without fighting him for dominance. They kiss for a few quiet minutes before Changmin has had his fill and breaks the kiss. He doesn’t say a word, but instead shows Jaejoong his left hand. The soft gasp from the other man is loud in the silence of their bedroom, as he moves to grip the hand as his mouth closes over that finger, his teeth and lips tugging the piece of metal up over Changmin’s knuckle and in a few seconds, it’s in his mouth.
Jaejoong cannot believe his eyes. The pain he felt that day when he thought Changmin had thrown his wedding ring into the lake damn near killed him. It was so acute he could barely breathe as he sobbed so hard he didn’t even notice Changmin had left him there, broken and alone. He pops the ring out of his mouth and stares at it, reading the inscription, his galloping heart slowing to a trot. He props himself up on Changmin’s chest as he fists the ring, using his mouth once again to pull off his own wedding ring. He lays the pair on his palm, the inscriptions in both visible to the both of them now.
I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell
Jaejoong will be anything for Changmin.
To die upon the hand I love so well
And Changmin will be everything for Jaejoong.
AN: Pretty much cried through writing this whole fic… Sigh… Also I kinda wrote this in between my paper and on re-reading my thesis, I found pieces of fic in it. However I am seriously not game to re-read this so if you find pieces of thesis in it, please forgive me.