[M] Faulty Flickering Halo (1/1)
wc: 10,439kWarning: non-linear narrative!
The second time Jongin runs into Kyungsoo, is on a subway platform in the middle of winter that's suspended over the streets, where cars are honking and snow is pushed aside in dirty piles on the corners of sidewalks."Hey fuckface!"He turns around with his hands in his hair--something he does with a huff because he's out of breath, as well as pissed off at missing the train. Mark Tuan, that bastard who decided to get a new tattoo just below his collarbone instead of pay Jongin the money he owes him, has managed to slip away yet again; piece of shit giving Jongin the middle-finger on the departing side of a subway-car window.He was planning on beating the shit out of him, even though bruises adorn Jongin's face and most of his body parts are sore, and most of the time it hurts just to move."You owe me an apology." Kyungsoo says plainly, having been standing there the entire time.And at first, Jongin doesn't even properly register the omega that is now before him, standing there with his tiny hands in the pockets of a winter coat that has fur lining the hood and is evidently too big for him. He's got a gray beanie over jet-black hair, tip of his nose tinged a rosy color along with his exposed ears. He's small and looks mighty out of place on this dingy subway platform.The fluorescent lights flicker and buzz over-head, concrete floor stained with black puddles and shoe prints that are results of previously white snow on the wrong side of town. Jongin's breath comes out white as he arches a brow, turning completely face-to-face with the smaller."Hey," He says it slow, mostly to himself. "I remember you." Being an alpha of independence since his early childhood, Jongin answers to no one and definitely doesn't take orders very well. "An apology?" Jongin sniffs, stuffing his hands in his own pockets. "Oh yeah--for what?""You got your blood all over my shoes earlier back there, you jerk."The quick glance that Jongin spares downward, is with little interest. "Oh. Yeah. Well would ya look at that."He doesn't give a fuck.Kyungsoo knows that he doesn't give a fuck--alphas from these parts of town and of these types of lifestyles, tend to never really give a fuck about much things that don't particularly pertain to money, death, drugs, and or, getting laid. It was a flimsy endeavor, anyway. Kyungsoo doesn't really care, either. The shoes he's wearing are ones he still fits from his adolescent years."You were gonna kill that guy, weren't you?" Kyungsoo nudges his head in the direction of the departed train. The air is cold, it nips and bites. The newspaper on the ground is soggy and bleeding into the cement.Jongin takes a step--begins walking away--taking a cigarette from his jacket-pocket and sticking it between his lips. Muffled he says over his shoulder, "I was gonna put him in the hospital at least, yeah." It's a casual confession. Kyungsoo doesn't follow after him. "What's it to you?"And with his pockets feeling empty and his ribs aching beneath his jacket and hoody and long-sleeve shirt, Jongin curses under his breath when he realizes, "Ay, you gotta light?" He feels around the outside of his pockets for emphasis. The small omega barely at shoulders height, shrugs and shakes his head no, "Sorry.""Shit." He removes the cigarette from his mouth, dangling between fingers now instead.And a lot of things run through Jongin's head as he leaves, shoulders hunched, hands in pockets; where the fuck is Sehun? I'm gonna find that piece of shit Mark Tuan. That fucker owes me money. I owe fuckin' money. Fuck, should it hurt to breathe this much? And then amongst all things--something that strikes like lightning or a gunshot committed in the cover of night by a car driving slowly down the street--Jongin turns around abruptly, eyebrows severely furrowed.Wait a fuckin' minute.He points his cigarette straight at the omega that is still standing there, in the jacket that he's probably had since late middle-school--the one he never really grew into because even for an omega, he's a tiny little fucker. "Ay," Jongin says, accusingly. "the fuck you even doin' out here still?" Because this is hardly the place for an omega to be; out so late, nearly 3AM, and in the shittier part of town.Kyungsoo shrugs his shoulders, a passive smirk lingering on his lips. "My boyfriends an asshole." He says in reply.Jongin accomplishes the slowest of nods that ends with an inaudible oh, still a skeptical look on his face irregardless, because honestly that clears absolutely nothing up. But Jongin's always been good at those elementary-school puzzles, he connects the dots easily--most times he'll see what isn't immediately evident."Your boyfriend just left you out here." It's partly a question. Jongin's tone teeters the line of inquisition and accusatory. Maybe stating the obvious."We got in a fight." The roar of a subway-train going in the opposite direction shakes the bridge. "He was gonna take me home," Kyungsoo shifts where he lingers, worn-out shoes nudging at invisible dust. "but I sort of slapped him across the face for saying some stupid shit about me being an attention whore for alphas who show any signs of having money - which okay, may or may not be partially true - but long-story-short; he got pissed, I got pissed, he told me to shut the fuck up, I told him to fuck-off. And so he did.""Sounds romantic.""Tch. Yeah--right," Kyungsoo sits himself down on the clean end of the bench behind him. "all that's missing was a kiss in the rain.""Well," Jongin's sly smirk isn't concealed for a reason, when he offers so suavely, "there's still time."It's an insinuation. And Kyungsoo is there with the confirmation. "You hitting on me, playboy?" Smirks are mirrored, framed perfectly by white exhales and walls stained with graffiti and tattered fliers for bands that'd performed the advertised gigs years ago.Jongin isn't shy when he nods his head, telling Kyungsoo, "Yes. Very much so." Instead he laughs and stands there still, not leaving and not walking away to wherever it is he thought he'd lay down for the night--because his bitch of a roommate hates him and isn't afraid to double-lock the door at night if he isn't home in time.Instead, "C'mon." he says. Gesturing for Kyungsoo to stand up. "Let's go--c'mon."There is an arch of a brow, a question stirring in the blacks of Kyungsoo's eyes as he slowly rises, one that Jongin meets with an answer because, there is another train coming their way and even though Kyungsoo may have hinted in insinuation that he was planning on waiting here on this platform, until later in the early morning when it's safer to be walking around alone as an omega, Jongin has other ideas."I'm taking you home." Wherever that even is.And it's met with little protest; Kyungsoo just slips past him with his hands still in his pockets and a smirk on his lips. The doors part, it smells like piss and the lack of a shower in years--courtesy of a few homeless people laying on the seats--but Jongin follows in behind him, sitting himself down beside the omega who has taken the window seat where slang words have been carved into the glass.Jongin props his foot up on the seat in front of him that's facing the aisle.They don't really say anything to each other.Kyungsoo poorly conceals his amusement intentionally. Jongin doesn't hide his smirks. They take turns blatantly glancing at each other to the rhythm of wheels clacking on the tracks, packed closely together on plastic chairs that suggest them to something more intimate than what was intended."My boyfriend is the jealous and possessive type." Kyungsoo mentions. Just so you know--by the way. He bites his lip because he doesn't want to smile that flirtatious smirk so easily for Jongin.But Jongin is an alpha who likes challenge. "Good." He says, before reaching across and cupping Kyungsoo's cheek to pull him into a kiss.Their lips mold easily and Kyungsoo doesn't even attempt to pull away.Instead they proceed to use tongue.
Five months ago Kyungsoo sat straddling Chanyeol's waist on a couch at a party, in which, the tall alpha of messy brown locks proceeded to snort an unimpressive line of coke off the curve of Kyungsoo's craned neck before giving him a hickey there.The music is loud enough to nearly mask the smaller's laugh, neckline of his loose sweater pulled down over his shoulder by a large hand while the other is possessive on his hip. Kyungsoo had eventually squealed in the midst of Chanyeol's growing aggression, giggling when he places his hands on the taller's shoulders to decelerate his advances."Public sex had always used to be a fantasy of mine--" Kyungsoo proclaims, index finger now over Chanyeol's lips, expression shifting from sultry to dull. "--until I finally did it."His voice is deep, arms strong and encompassing when he hums and wraps them around the smaller's waist. "Ya find out you were shy?" Chanyeol slides his hand up the back of Kyungsoo's shirt, calloused hands on smooth skin."No." The omega corrects. "Actually, I found out that people have phones and phones have cameras and cameras lead to photos that circulate the masses and then apparently a load of cum to the face results in an endless title as the Cum Facial Slut of freshman year." Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, and someone throws back a shot and then brings one over to Chanyeol who reaches out to take it."Did it at least make the Most Likely To Succeed portion of the school year book?" The alpha jokes, non-committal. He throws back the shot. Kyungsoo kisses him immediately to swallow half of it himself."Yeah--right under Most Likely To Suck a D for an A+""Hot," Chanyeol says, not thinking twice about standing up with Kyungsoo still wrapped around him, one arm supporting the smaller's lower back while the other beckons forth another shot from a hand that reaches out to provide him with it. "sounds like all that extracurricular activity has done you well."The cheap strobe light that spins and swirls with colored beams around the disheveled living-room, leaves Kyungsoo disoriented in Chanyeol's arms as he allows himself to be whisked away toward the staircase across the room, "Well, I'm graduating this year ain't I." through the crowd, past the crooked picture frames hanging on the walls and beyond the point of no return, Kyungsoo giggles around the rim of the shot that Chanyeol presses to his lips.He likes the way Chanyeol is so tall that the ceiling feels close - that the floor seems so far away - how he feels as though he is so helpless in the arms of someone so commanding and superior. It turns him on--like it always does. And it's a weakness as well as a natural disposition of omega kind. It's not terrible, just a problem.And when Chanyeol has successfully carried him up the stairs on his hip, loose arms wrapped around his broad shoulders and lips on his jaw-line, it is Kyungsoo that says something remotely aware, first. "My boyfriend thinks i'm babysitting across town."It's partially a warning and partially a reminder; if Chanyeol wants to heed hues of immorality, then he can. If he had forgotten that Kyungsoo has an alpha dick that he's already riding on the regular, then he won't be surprised by the end of the night when Kyungsoo leaves without fond words or signs of any long-term promise.But when Kyungsoo is clinging to the headboard of a bed that isn't his that gives full view of the rest of the party commencing outside the window on the front lawn - Chanyeol grunting and slamming into him from behind, large hands gripping onto the headboard as well, hooting and hollering down at the party-goers who are already cheering and giving him the thumbs up past red cups filled with alcoholic beverages - none of the iffy technicalities matter.It's just sweaty sex and Kyungsoo enjoys the hard muscles pressed up against him, hair in his face and loud moans emitting shamelessly against the glass of a window that puts him on display for everyone to see.His breath may fog up the window, but one thing is evidently clear; Chanyeol knows how to pound the shit out of an omega from behind.Sideways, upside-down, with legs over his shoulders, the alpha isn't merciful and the bed is not silent. The walls bang, the bed-frame creeks, Kyungsoo is a screamer when the plunge is specific. And when he whimpers, it means that he has been fucked beyond the point of incoherence.Chanyeol's dick is big; long and thick to be precise; a weapon of mass destruction and perhaps whats left of Kyungsoo by the end of it all, is a place left in ruins, wrecked beyond belief and covered in bruises that feel so, so good. "Mmm," He's languid when he murmurs. "wrap your hands around my throat--just one more time please."And it's easy when Chanyeol is already still heavy on top of him, sliding his hands up smooth skin--after everything is over and both of them are spent but Kyungsoo is destroyed--and wrapping his large hands around the smaller's neck, squeezing slightly, just enough to make Kyungsoo gasp in ecstasy one last time.Chanyeol growls in his ear, thin legs still wrapped around him and cock still nestled deep inside. "You're on the pill, right?" He does his best to hide his perturbed tone. "You're all good n' shit, right?" Chanyeol's not exactly ready to become a father anytime soon."Oh!" Kyungsoo is swift when he stretches and reaches over to pull his pants down off the lamp on the nightstand, taking from his pocket a small packet layered in foil that he prods, swallowing what's inside easily without a glass of water and without much effort--probably too much practice, if he's honest."Now I am." He says with a smile and a giggle. And it's good enough for Chanyeol who only internally shrugs before shoving his tongue down the omega's throat, even though deep down the both of them already know that nothing is for sure at this point.Perhaps the risk is part of the thrill. And recklessly, neither of them allow themselves to care later on, when the party is still going on into the later hours of the night, when there are lesser people still standing and a wider array of different types of drunks stumbling about the place."When I cum inside of you next time, how about makin' sure you've already downed a pregnancy pill n' shit, a'ight?"Kyungsoo turns around to look up at Chanyeol who is following him back down the stairs. "Shut the fuck up, dickhead." It's said with little bite to his words, no real sting, even though his eyes are glaring.This only triggers a chuckle inside of Chanyeol, one that Kyungsoo can hear even over the bumping bass of the music. Soon the cops are gonna be here. Noise complaints always come in reporting calls eventually."Ay-yo, Chanyeol!" Henry shouts over the music from the crowded couch across the room. He makes not so subtle gestures toward and between the two. "You tap that?!" He's grinning like an idiot.Chanyeol wipes a hand over his mouth to will away his smirk, discreetly nodding a cool yeah in reply.Jung Ilhoon is slipping out of his clothes yet again, an act he seems to perform at every house party that occurs this way--with invites sent out from word of mouth and not much else.Hyunsik will place down his drink at any moment now, licking his lips and moving forward slowly. He'll have Ilhoon tonight but that's not anything entirely new, either.And in a slur of barely comprehensible moments, some drunk asshole on the staircase standing against the wall with a drink in his hands decides to grab Kyungsoo's ass as he and Chanyeol are descending, taller in tow by linked index fingers.It's a bad move. "What the fuck, asshole?!" Kyungsoo turns around and punches the guy in the face without hesitating.His fist is tiny and essentially the hit doesn't hurt, the alpha on the receiving end just rubbing his jaw and chuckling in drunken amusement--because this probably isn't the first time an omega has lashed out on him for doing something stupid and inappropriate--that is, until Chanyeol swings next and is sending him flying down the rest of the stairs with a single punch."Fuckin' prick."Chanyeol readjusts his rolled up sleeve. And Kyungsoo approves.
Luhan is the type of omega that most never really meet - one of those trivial deities of superficial importance; just a cellphone obsessed, pampered omega who spends more time staring down at his apps and text messages than up at whats actually around him - he's prissy and whiny and all things daintily expensive, but it's hardly seen as a negative, because he's beautiful.In a warehouse in the outskirts of town - one that's long since been abandoned and left to fall victim to broken windows and shitty graffiti writing on the bricks and walls - Luhan whines and pouts and stomps his foot like a spoiled brat at the age of nineteen."But daddy!" He screams, peroxide-blond hair bouncing sharply as his foot hits the ground. "Why can't I go to Caolu's slumber party!?""Because, Luhan, my sweet doll," His father says, level and calm and standing there in the center of the warehouse in an all-black professional attire, top two buttons undone, hand-gun in his hand and aimed forward at the tied and gagged man on his knees in front of him. "Caolu is the lovely girl with a degenerate and untrustworthy alpha for a brother."There are henchmen in button up shirts and Armani shades standing all around them, silent and loyal, waiting for what they all already know is about to come.Luhan's father looks over his shoulder at his delicate omega son, a soft expression provided. "I simply cannot allow you to be anywhere near the likes of him, sweetie."A single moment passes.The mood switches."Because then I would have to kill him." And then the trigger is pulled and the loud bang of the gun echoes throughout the open warehouse. The body hits the floor. And that's what happens when you make a deal with the Chinese mob and don't come through. It ends like it always does; right between the eyes.Luhan pouts and whines and stomps his foot again, shouting and crying, "This is so not fair!" before storming away to the car that's waiting outside. His voice can be heard shrieking the entire way. "Everyone is going to be there except for me!"With a sigh and roll of his neck, "Hey," his father hands over the gun to a henchman before turning to his other son--the only alpha who will pass down his name and in turn inherit their empire; Kris. "go look after your brother. Take him--I dunno--shopping, or whatever it is he likes to do with my fuckin' money, I don't care, just make him happy for me will ya.""Yeah yeah," Kris waves him off, already sauntering away with a lighter cupped in front of the cigarette thats dangling between his lips. "I'm on it.""And son," Their father calls after him, seriously. "if you see any--you know, alphas," he has his gun tossed over to Kris who catches it with a single hand and lack of effort. "send the poor bastard my blessings."Muffled by the cigarette between his lips, Kris chuckles, "Will do, pops." stuffing the weapon into the waistband of his pants before walking away.
Three months ago marked an important date on Kyungsoo's calendar."Holy shit." Standing in front of it, shoving one foot into one worn-out shoe after the other, he's perplexed. "It's been a year already..." He says it to himself mostly, the month and day circled prematurely when he'd somehow made it an astonishing eight months with the same exact boyfriend.There is a small child on his hip asking, "What's it, Kyung-shoo?" looking between the older omega and the calendar hanging on the wall, a few other children--his foster siblings--running around this rundown shit-hole of a house owned by the conniving foster mother who owns the damn place.It's a black-hole he's living. Hardly a home.The doorway is cluttered with mismatched hand-me-down shoes, broken toys forgotten in most corners and the withered floorboards that creak are covered with stained rugs that barely hide what is obvious; borderline poverty has claimed this place long ago. But the government doesn't seem to care--proved that years ago when they'd showed up with eyes that over-looked all of the obvious problems.A lack of funds and little belief in the idea that these kids can become of something someday, keeps this place exactly the way it is today; a lost cause. Kyungsoo adjusts his foster brother in his arms, saying to him in a tender tone, "One year anniversary." as if the younger omega will even understand, which is partially the point."Kyungsoo!" His foster mother calls, cigarette between her lips and dollar bills being counted on the slanted kitchen table.There's loud stomping coming from upstairs, someone is being chased, it's probably a game they're playing. Tag most likely. Something that they've been told countless of times to not be playing in the house. It always ends in trouble. Kyungsoo places down his younger brother with a groan, saying under his breath whoa, you're getting heavy these days."You better bring in more than you brought in last night, ya hear?!" The ashtray is a mini apocalypse when she adds to it.And it doesn't ever get emptied out, just replaced with another version of itself--something makeshift and meant for something else; beer bottles are common, soup cans are efficient, the dog-bowl is now fair game, considering that the lucky little bastard ran away. Must've known what was good for it when it made a break for it the moment the front door was opened.Kyungsoo doesn't bother responding when he throws a scarf around his neck and makes his leave.Hanbin is there stepping onto the yard over the spare tire that was left there who knows how long ago, headband around his head, hair styled up and pushed mostly to one side, band-aid on his left cheek because he's a beta and has a bad attitude, but lacks the natural strength of an alpha to back it up."Stole some left-overs from some rich family waiting for their valet driver to bring their car around." He says, plastic bags slung over his shoulder."I hope you like half eaten calamari steak, grilled salmon, or two orders of some kids meal shit. It's not much, but it should feed most of us if we divide it correctly."He's a few years younger; the second oldest in the house. He is one of the more reliable sources of food and income, like Kyungsoo.Even though their methods are warped and opportunities are few--they manage.Kyungsoo is walking backwards down the block when he says, "Save some for me?" and Hanbin isn't even sparing a glance as he waves a dismissive hand that essentially means yeah yeah, whatever. I gotchu.And the sun is already absent from the sky when the subway train arrives to take Kyungsoo to his second job at the host club in the party district of the city.He's an 'angel' at U-Phoric. His shift starts at ten o'clock at night on the weekends and he doesn't get off until six in the morning, when the sun is slowly coming back up."Hey, Soo." Minki greets over the thrum of music pumping through the dim lounge bound by dark velvet furniture and flickers of light reflecting off of the glass tables and mirrors behind the bar. "That Choi Siwon guy is back again to see you." Minki giggles in uniform; tiny blue shorts with a baggy sweater that adorns the lounge logo, thigh-high socks white and not yet yanked off by prying hands. "I'd say I think he's got a crush on you or somethin'."Kyungsoo rolls his eyes--but knows he needs this. Choi Siwon has money. "Well, for a few crisp hundred dollar bills, I'd say he can have whatever it is he wants on me." Minki feigns a shocked gasp as he passes, tray of hard liquor balancing on his right palm.The carpeted floor is the deepest shade of dark blue here, rose petals litter the surface of the low glass tables that glow in pure white, wine red curtains drape around each set of booths lining the wall across the bar. U-Phoric is a hellish piece of heaven on earth. Some sort of stain lost in the dark; it's there, foul, but who really cares.Alphas and daring betas flock here in the cover of night in search of something sensual, arousing.Fluffing egos is a specialty, knowing how to giggle and lightly touch onto the arms and muscles of clients is a requirement, but being able to drop down onto knees at the drop of a large bill and give head in the presence of drugs and alcohol-induced actions--that's a gift.Among his co-workers, Kyungsoo is just another pretty omega doused in repressed shame. Morals come second here, money comes first. Any signs of dignity means that one is over-qualified to work here. Kyungsoo adorns the skimpy outfit with ease, sighing in the mirror in the locker-room, giving himself just a pinch of glitter to key spots on his skin.Alphas like it when he's easy to spot in the dim lighting. They grab and hold and hang onto the bought attention, drinking into the late of night, large hands on soft flesh, fingers lingering on thighs and collarbones as they please because anything in short-shorts is fair game. Kyungsoo laughs along to conversations when it's called for, presents shots and drapes himself across laps when he knows it's wanted of him.Someone smacks his ass. It's Saturday. On Sunday's--at least they have the decency to cup his ass instead.And with insincere enthusiasm, Kyungsoo finds himself laying across the bar because a young alpha who's just recently graduated from college--a place in which the former will never ever see, because he's poor and unworthy and lacking any hopes and dreams--wants a body shot off of his flat stomach.Kyungsoo cheers whilst lifting his already skimpy sweater, no one calling his bluff because that's not how he makes his money.Alcohol drips down his skin and into his navel. The graduated alpha and his buddies hoot and holler at the sensual sight, hands clapping on their comrads back, viewing Kyungsoo as a present laced in sin; an angel at U-Phoric; something they all take joy in.He's mastered his slutty giggle; when the alcohol is licked and sucked off of his body, allowing himself then to be helped down off the bar by the hoard of eager alphas that he can tell are already internally competing for his touch and affection.Private interactions cost a whole hell of a lot extra.But alcohol is a lubricant for questionable decisions, money slips easily through fingers after the liquid burn and amidst the bleary stage of comprehension.And the recent graduate is the lucky alpha who Kyungsoo decides to take to the back of the lounge amidst the uproar of approval from his friends because essentially, he is the one they are celebrating. It's only right. Kyungsoo has a cluster of twenties tucked inside the waistband of his mini-shorts as incentive.With the taller in tow, down the dark halls lit with red lights and generic picture frames on the wine red walls, the music gets quieter. There are no doors to the rooms, only heavy red curtains. It's less privacy, but that's probably for the better. This makes Kyungsoo feel less trapped when he is alone with strangers who's sense of boundaries are blurred by the alcohol."I th-think yur reely pretty." Graduate boy says, slurred and sitting back in his designated chair while Kyungsoo saunters and slithers his way, already immersed in his sensual dance of tender touches and slow reveal. "I w-anna put babbiez in yew." With practice and an eye-roll that's hidden in the dim lighting, Kyungsoo ignores what is standard, rolling his hips where his stage is a lap and the large hands on his body are invasive beneath his shirt.And it's probably Kyungsoo's boyfriend that interrupts the half-assed lap dance - not that the drunken alpha sitting back in his chair can tell the amount of effort or interest.Kyungsoo can't see who enters, he's still facing the other way after all, legs still straddling the blissful alpha beneath him. But the way the curtains are yanked open sound painfully familiar. It's most definitely his boyfriend. One year anniversary today."Up." His deep and demanding tone resonates as he enters on heavy steps. "Get up. Out." He says, straight forward, thumb jabbed out to the hall and hard stare directed at the intoxicated alpha who doesn't seem to catch on until Kyungsoo is sliding off of him."Hey! Now jjj-just who, do yu think you arre bro?" Stumbling and swaying, he rises to his feet. "I p-aid my muney for thisz o-omega here! Tha m-manmager izn't gunna lyke heering ab-bout thisz!"Readjusting his loose sweater Kyungsoo steps aside. "He is the manager." Kind of sort of. Co-owner maybe. Son of the manager, for sure.Slurring, "M--Mannn." the alpha leaves, "f-fukk diz place."Kyungsoo shuts the curtain once again when they are alone. "Ya get my text message earlier?" The white thigh-high sock on his left leg is still falling lower than the right."One year, huh? Anniversary or some shit?"Kyungsoo nods, "Yeah." reaching up to place a hand on a broad shoulder clad in a black blazer where muscles are evident. "Seems so." A few months from now Kyungsoo is gonna be calling him an asshole and he'll be left on a subway platform after slapping him. Perhaps true love in the making.Slowly he ushers the now stoic alpha backwards into the unoccupied chair."Care for an anniversary lap dance?"With his legs spread, blazer shrugged off and content sigh emitting from his amused lips, this is what he's been waiting for. He pats his lap with large hands, beckoning Kyungsoo forward with a low growl that he knows scares the smaller just as much as it thrills him."Come to daddy."
The three middle-schoolers sprinting out of the corner store - the one with the half-missing logo on the front of the building - where the owner is busting out of the front entrance because they've robbed him at gun-point, reminds Jongin of himself when he was younger.He smiles as he strolls down the street with his hands in his jacket pockets. The sight of them laughing and barreling through people on the sidewalk is nostalgic. He doesn't even make a move to stop them when the owner shouts, somebody--stop those kids!They probably threatened the guy with a gun that's not even loaded and from one of their neglectful parents, one who hasn't kept a watchful eye on their kid probably since they could walk at the age of who gives a fuck."Hey you goddamn sons of bitches, get back here! Why you!--"Jongin makes sure to stop inside the corner store real quick just to grab a beer and then easily walk out while the owner is still chasing the adolescent degenerates down the block with his fist shaking in the air ruefully. With a sip and glance over his shoulder as he goes, Jongin makes sure to thank those kids in spirit."Ay, lemme get some of that." Sehun says when Jongin meets him in the vacant parking lot on the side of a shitty laundromat, only looking up from his phone for a second, hand held out. Jongin complies wordlessly, hood pulled over his head, hair unruly, hands in his jacket. "You see ol' killer around lately?"Sehun takes a swig and then hands it back. "Nah," He says, looking up from his phone at Jongin once more. "I figure he's still lookin' for your ass though.""Shit." Jongin hisses, shifting in his spot alongside the graffitied wall in the parking lot where the concrete is cracked and weeds sprout from the ground. Jongin rubs his nose with the back of his hand, swaying. "Look--man..." He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, barely ready to admit to any sort of signs of weakness. "I'ma be honest. I'm fuckin' fucked, dude." It's a sign of fear he doesn't blatantly allow."Yeah, I know." Sehun doesn't look up from his phone this time. "He's gonna fuckin' kill you if you don't have that money by the next time he sees you.""Fuck." Jongin runs a rough hand over his eyes as he grimaces. "Shit was over-due about a week ago.""Prolly shouldn't have made that bet in the first place." Sehun sneaks a glance, abandoned in the moment of silence that ensues he adds, "Jus--sayin'."And it's true. Jongin knows this.He'd had no place making a bet on a street-race in the middle of the night, amidst the booming car stereos and skimpy omegas running around flocking to alphas with souped up cars and criminal records under their belts along with race wins. It's a world he doesn't typically reside.Music blares, colorful cars are lined up and down the streets. Some omegas are sucking on lollipops on the hood of powerful engines, and some are getting fucked in the backseats of others.Jongin had weighed his options, choosing less wisely--less characteristic.And when he'd been just a lingerer on the scene that goes - for the most part - unscathed by the sirens and flashes of the red and blue lights, drinking a beer and stepping forward up to Ol' Killer; a big guy who talks a lot of game and has enough power that he actually has goons at his disposal, Jongin probably shouldn't have bet him that his top racer couldn't win the next race.He doesn't know why he'd done it. Maybe he just couldn't stand to see that pleased smirk on the guy's face any longer. The fall of a king is a sight that's more of a show, to Jongin. Maybe an opportunity.It'd been bravery in slurs, however. Cockiness in the face of fire, clearly. So very wrong. Jongin had ignored the snarl that'd met him with strong strides up into his face, I'll make that bet, Ol' Killer had said, shoving his hand into Jongin's, holding his stare long and heavy when he'd asked, how much? To which Jongin had been his stubborn and idiotic alpha self when he'd replied, five-thousand. And then they shake on it.Safe to say, the kingdom of the underground world of burnt rubber still has it's king. Jongin will be made an example of, he supposes."Shit." Jongin says, more thoughtfully this time, taking a long sip from his beer whilst staring out across the crumbling parking-lot.Sehun crosses his arms, leaning against the wall, phone still in hand. "You gonna go back to the Tenderizer House? I hear mother fuckers are puttin' down real money these days."It's a thought. An idea. A moment passes where Jongin actually thinks about it, considers it, hums a shrug to himself whilst letting the silence become well acquainted with them.Jongin throws back the rest of his beer. "Fuck it." Because essentially he's in. He tosses the remains off to the side to let it clatter on the cracked concrete."When's the next fight?"Sehun takes a moment to think, "Hmmm," looking up into the air, before his phone goes off and he's looking back down again. "I think like next week or some shit like that. I don't know."It's not a solution, but it's a course of action. Jongin cracks his neck, "Sounds good." shaking out his tense muscles as if he's already standing opposite corner of a guy in the ring."Huh." Sehun chuckles, staring down at his phone."What?" Jongin looks over. "Is it your secret little omega lover?"There's a hint of a nod."He called me an asshole." In a smirking manner, Sehun begins texting back immediately. "That fucking little bitch."
"It's not fair!"Kris is a veteran in the face of spoiled brat omega tactics--the way Luhan huffs and puffs and crosses his arms whilst sulking with his head laying against the window in the backseat of just one of the many identical black SUV's leaving the warehouse.Sliding into the backseat along with his omega brother, Kris signals that it's okay to leave, and so the driver does. If he sighs he probably doesn't even realize that he's done so. Kris is familiar with routine. These tantrums are common-place."I am literally--I swear, do you hear me Kris--literally, am going to be the only one not going to Caolu's slumber party tonight oh my god! Why does daddy hate me so much!? Ugh--it's not fair!""Yeah, well sometimes fair isn't always what's best for you.""Shut up, Kris! What do you even know about fairness--you get to do whatever the hell you like and I don't! I hate you!"Being the younger brother, Kris is never blatantly disrespectful towards his older omega brother. But being the alpha successor in the family - the tall, strong, fearless, chiseled and unwavering golden-blond boy in contrast to Luhan's peroxide shade - he is entrusted with all of the responsibility, maybe cursed with the expectations."Simple," Kris replies, leaning far back into his seat with his arm along the headrest. "it's because I am the alpha. I'm allowed to do whatever I want."Luhan turns toward him sharply, snarling--ready to pounce.He's not blatantly disrespectful. There's a subtle smirk. Kris is just all too infatuated with teasing."I hate you!" Luhan shouts, lunging over at him in the backseat and attacking Kris with flying fists that barely hurt. It's all things that strike with minimal effect. A common-place shower of pebbles instead of boulders, a zap instead of lightning. Kris laughs.And a warped sense of normalcy isn't something that Luhan is even that aware of at all. Sure, maybe he contemplates it, perhaps considers it, at key points and intervals where situations in everyday life aren't always things that most can relate to or even share similar experiences in, but if it is realized, then he doesn't show it.Because if he acknowledges that most childhoods aren't spent around Christmas trees where presents are tucked beneath the tree while their father drags what is wrapped like a present yet shaped like a body out from under it and straight to the garage, then he's forced to potentially feel even just a sliver of guilt when he receives expensive gifts from all around the world that drug-money can buy.Luhan had gotten a pure white pony with a long white mane on his tenth birthday. Kris had gotten a rifle and a promise. A future business to over-take awaits him when he is old enough.Throughout school - the most private and expensive one there is - Luhan had been the omega that all the alpha boys wanted but could never touch. Like a lucid dream fading between fingertips that reach for him in the awake from slumber, the regal omega was beyond anyone's reach; he was coveted yet off-limits. Alphas dreamt of bedding him, but feared him for his family.To say that Luhan knows the ways of common everyday life, would be a false truth; he's seen movies about it. Lower-middle class seems like a life not worth living in his opinion. Why would anyone even continue on with life if that were the case, he'd once asked.It's wealthy ignorance. Crime-induced privilege."I'm sorry, but that woman right there seems to have bought the very last one." The clerk behind the desk of Luhan's favorite clothing store announces when Luhan had complained that there isn't a fluffy white light-up coat in his size left. He'd looked it up online for weeks now goddammit. And walking out of the store goes Luhan's patience, along with his coat in someone else's shopping bag. An internal spark ignites or maybe something shatters. Perhaps simply just pampered rage.With a stomp of his foot he whines, "Kriiiis!" to which the taller simply just rolls his eyes before snapping his fingers forward, "Yeah yeah, I got it." signaling to the henchmen around them to pursue the woman now obliviously walking down the street.In a matter of time they corner her into an alleyway where Kris steps forward through the matching henchmen surrounding her and says so calmly, "Look, I'm gonna need you to hand over the jacket."His tone may be daunting, naturally intimidating in the lukewarm fire that still gleams, but it's the nicest he gets. Scary is his initial state.She gasps at the idea, scoffs shortly after that, even has the nerve to hold the bag behind herself. "No way! This jacket cost a fortune--and not to mention--it's a one of a kind!" Apparently she's tainted with a spoiled-brat upbringing as well."Okay, look," Kris says, calmly still, stepping closer and all the more naturally intimidating. The woman pales, suddenly registering fear. "my father taught me to never strike an omega, under any circumstance."Visibly she sighs a breath of relief. "Oh--thank god..."And then Kris nods his head at one of the henchmen closer to her, who without a word knows what is ordered of him and knocks the woman out with just one single punch alone, sending her body flying to the floor in dainty and designer-brand shambles. Her limbs are ascew and her hair is covering her face, but at least she isn't dead. In a few hours she'll wake up and maybe not even remember a thing; what happened, where she is, or what her fucking name is if Kris is lucky.Who knows. Who cares.Kris picks the discarded shopping bag up off the alley floor, making sure to thank the henchman readjusting his Armani shades for the good work with just a single nod."Here you go, Lu." He then says to his older brother who had been waiting on top of the hood of a car with his arms and legs crossed."Yayyy! Thanks Kris, I love youuu!"When the golden-blond alpha accepts the leaping blond into his arms with an oomf and lackluster hug returned, he smiles, barely, hardly."Yeah yeah," He rolls his eyes. But he means it when he says, "I love you, too. I guess."
Just a few days under a month ago Kyungsoo was a bored lingerer on the side-lines of one of Chanyeol's after-school football practices. In the commencement of seasons changing and leaves withering and falling and--soon enough--freezing, Kyungsoo waits on a grassy slope with the formers large jacket around his shoulders.Football is boring, Kyungsoo had once admitted not so sparingly to the tall alpha. Although, Kyungsoo had tapped at his plush lips in seductive thought, I do think that football players are actually kind of hot. It's the rough play. Chanyeol had said so smoothly, crooked smirk, arm extended out to support him leaning there against the wall in uniform with cleats on tile and flirtatious intent currently in action just outside of the school locker-room. Omegas dig the necessary roughness, he says, looking down the length of his nose at Kyungsoo with lust-filled eyes. It's a submissiveness to dominance thing.Yeah whatever. Kyungsoo has his binder clutched to his chest, playing this coy game of cat and mouse he's all too ready to lose. He cuts to the chase. Well are you gonna pursue me or not?Chanyeol hadn't spared another moment when he'd reached out and taken what he'd wanted, wrapping an arm around Kyungsoo's waist and pulling him in, holding him tight. You're already mine.Feeling himself shutter whilst biting his bottom lip, Oooh, Kyungsoo traces inane shapes on the alpha's chest. You're right. Like this they hold stares. It's the necessary roughness. And then in the sweaty sessions of no real intimate promises, the mutual understanding of routine fuck-buddies was born."You looked like shit out there." Kyungsoo says from his spot on the grass, watching Chanyeol stroll up to him with white huffs and his helmet in his left hand.Sweaty beneath the bright field lights, Chanyeol only laughs at the jeer and tells Kyungsoo in return so casually, "And you still suck on my cock when I tell you to, you little bitch. So who's the real loser here?""True." Kyungsoo replies easily, standing to his feet and brushing off his pants.He doesn't challenge the smirk that Chanyeol is aiming his way, doesn't even contemplate opposing words to shoot back with. Instead he is small and tiny and all of the faux innocence and adorableness that Chanyeol consistently falls victim to."Hey. By the way, speaking of sucking," With wide eyes blinking a quizzical amount of times up at the uniform-clad alpha, tainted with grass stains sweat and dirt and all, Kyungsoo feigns timidness in the sweet and soft tone of voice that he knows will set Chanyeol off the way he wants. "I was thinking that--" he slides a small palm over Chanyeol's thick crotch, leaning closer. "--maybe I could give you a blowjob or something real quick?"Chanyeol is already dragging Kyungsoo along when he says, "Oh hell fuckin' yeah." leading him to his car parked in the far end of the parking-lot. It's almost a ridiculous question. Chanyeol always wants inbetween those lips.And Kyungsoo is giggling in tow, just along for the rough and bumpy ride when the alpha in front of him doesn't even stop when a few of his teammates call out to him Ay-yo Chanyeol, you hangin' with us after practice or what? The air is crisp. This end of the parking-lot is dark beneath a burnt out light. Nah! Chanyeol shouts back, gesturing to the omega under his arm. Gonna go and put a few more miles on this bitch.Momentarily, between the breathy seconds of being backed up against the hood of a car and reprimanding words being stolen from him by lips against his own in rugged execution, Kyungsoo would have snapped at him and said hey, fuck you ya fuckin' prick, don't call me a bitch.But large hands gripping him hard on his hips in the welcome shadows is distracting. The tongue he swallows is probing and sensual and aggressive, his entire body is suddenly burning hot--probably from Chanyeol himself. The changing of seasons and withering of leaves no longer matters whatsoever.Kyungsoo admires his vantage point up at Chanyeol from down on his knees, looking up with exploring hands that rub and tug and undo the belt of Chanyeol's football pants. The growl he receives in return thrills him so he works faster.And when the air meets Chanyeol's cock it's only momentary because Kyungsoo has him in his mouth in an instant. "Ohh--fffuck." Chanyeol's moan is low, deep, guttural, a growl; a raw reaction to the warm and wet welcome that guides him to carnal bliss.Kyungsoo has him right where he wants him; head thrown back, large hand in his hair and big cock stuffed in his mouth.And when the smaller moans those high-pitched sounds of desperate submission - muffled around what is thick between his lips and tight in his throat - Kyungsoo relishes in the way Chanyeol progressively loses control in the parking-lot where it's risky. Granted--it wouldn't be the first time Kyungsoo's been caught in the sinful act."D--Damn you're g-good at this." Chanyeol hisses, daring to spare a glance down at the face looking back up at him with watery eyes and stretched lips.It's a story worth telling in the future when locker-room talk is vulgar and unabashed. All of Chanyeol's teammates will want to hear about this in full naughty detail because it's common.Kyungsoo's small hands are on his thighs, head bobbing back and forth, fast and wet on the alpha's thick length disappearing between glistening lips that slurp and suck better than any other that Chanyeol has ever experienced. This is why he keeps Kyungsoo around and closest out of all the omegas he fucks regularly.And eventually Chanyeol drags Kyungsoo up onto his feet, to which the omega whines but wipes his dribbling lips with his dainty fingers and obeys when the taller orders, "Take off your clothes." in that demanding and final tone of his. He's scary when he's blinded with lust.Kyungsoo giggles, not necessarily even heeding of the fact that they're still in the shadowy part of the field parking-lot.And when his clothes don't come off fast enough Chanyeol rips them off, snarling and pushy when he forces Kyungsoo inside of the backseat of his car.Articles of clothing and most of Chanyeol's uniform get left on the pavement when they proceed with reckless pleasure.Chanyeol throws himself back down onto the seat, leaned back and letting his legs fall open for Kyungsoo to crawl inbetween them and grab his throbbing cock with soft hands before he continues bobbing up and down on him, stroking all the while he sucks, bringing him closer to the edge with the tight motions that please him."O-Oh-hh, s-shit."The sounds the alpha makes are always different than the ones Kyungsoo makes; soft and whimpering, high-pitched and desperate when Chanyeol is fucking his brains out. And in contrast to all of the wrecked and helpless sounds, Chanyeol is a low groaner, full of sharp intakes of breath when he's taking what is rightfully his.For what feels like hours they fuck. Chanyeol has Kyungsoo on his back, legs in the air in the cramped space and slamming into him with delicious thrusts that rip sleazy music from them both.It's one position after the other. Constant give and take take take.The windows are fogged up completely when Kyungsoo is riding the alpha, head thrown back and screaming, a dainty arm extended out to where his hand drags down the steamy glass for poor leverage, other hand in Chanyeol's hair because the latter is merciless when he wraps those strong arms around Kyungsoo's hips and forces him to bounce on his throbbing cock."O-Oh g-god! Y-Y--Yes!" Kyungsoo is sure that the car is shaking, but neither of them care. "Y-Yess--Chanyeol y-yes! R-Right th--there!" Thank god the seats aren't leather. "F-Fuck oh m-my god y-yes just like that!" He's shameless when he cries out for what blurs him the most.And eventually Chanyeol growls even deeper when he decides to switch their position again, leaning them both forward until Kyungsoo's back is splayed over the middle-consol and the thrusts cause the smaller to grip onto the steering wheel and glove compartment above him. "O-Oh! Ch-Chanyeol!"The alphas hips slam hard, and soon enough the euphoric feeling sought out is found. Chanyeol groans loud, forcing himself in as deep as he can as he empties himself, spurt after spurt after spurt. And just like before, just like all of the other times, Kyungsoo is sent over the edge by the feeling of pulsating waves being pumped into him.With all alphas the flow seems never-ending. Kyungsoo looks down inbetween them, panting and coming down from bliss."That is going to get everywhere." He says, breathless and matter-of-fact. Limbs like jelly and legs still wrapped around a toned body.Chanyeol is a sagging figure of sweat and tired muscles, catching his breath when he says, "There are napkins--" with a jut of his jaw he gestures for Kyungsoo, "--in the glove compartment there."Like this they play with fire. Friends in the flames. Kyungsoo already has a significant other that is easy to ignite like gasoline.Chanyeol flicks his sweaty hair out of his eyes."Does your boyfriend not care that another alpha is banging the shit out of you just about every other day or two?"Kyungsoo shrugs--still on his back on the middle-consol--while he counts the napkins now in his hands. "What he doesn't know...""Could eventually get me killed." He says it deadpanned but doesn't really mean it. Fear isn't something Chanyeol knows how to feel.Granted he's never met nor seen the guy, but Chanyeol has a God complex that renders him unconcerned with any sort of alpha out there. As far as he's concerned, he is the top dog.Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, wrapping an arm around Chanyeol's neck to help himself up. "Well, it's not like he's not out there fucking other omegas whenever he wants, either.""Well, that's different." Chanyeol eventually has his football pants pulled on over his legs. Kyungsoo is the one that steals away the football jersey first--pulling it over his head and letting the obscure size envelope him--because he likes to feel cute in it when he lounges back against Chanyeol's toned bare chest. "Now how the fuck is that different? And don't say it's because he's an alpha."Chanyeol begins to shrug and say what Kyungsoo doesn't want to hear, "Welllll---" but the smaller is turning around and wagging a finger in his face, tsking "Ah--ah--ah, I don't want to hear it!" to which Chanyeol playfully snarls and grabs the offending finger and pretends to bite it, hugging the omega tighter against himself."It's true. Alphas get a different set of rules, a'ight? You've just gotta learn to deal with em, sweetcakes."Kyungsoo angles himself so that he is straddling the other. "Fuck you." There are large hands resting on his hips casually. "And just what sort of rules do alphas have, huh? Please, enlighten me."Chanyeol shrugs. Kyungsoo's small hands laying on his bare chest. "Don't hit an omega.""That's it?" Kyungsoo arches a brow--not sure whether or not to be offended or amused or perhaps bewildered and surprised. His tone turns deadpan. "That's the only rule..." It comes out a little less than a question."That's what all the other alphas when I was growing up used to say; you don't ever hit an omega. Ever."And it's maybe a slightly flattering piece of information, debatably offensive in some sort of facet in Kyungsoo's mind that he can comprehend, but aside from all the little things that elongate the moments in which he sits there, staring Chanyeol in the eyes as he straddles his lap in the backseat of his car in said alpha's football jersey, Kyungsoo does what he knows is deserved--With a playful smile Kyungsoo slaps him. Across the face.The only rule, is a rule that exists in a warped sort of solitude. Everything else, is apparently unprohibited guiltless freedom."Douche-bag."
The Tenderizer House is essentially an underground society full of demented dumbasses that love beating the living shit out of each other.And with a little bit of an audience who enjoys watching said dumbass alphas make poor life decisions that may potentially leave them with vision or hearing problems, they'll do it for a little money, too.Betting is now customary. Blood on the cold hard pavement of the basement beneath the barber shop, is now standard. Half of the money goes to the fighter who wins, and half the money in the pot goes divided amongst the winning viewers.Jongin has his sketchy street-race bet to thank for having to revisit this sweat-stenched basement in the middle of winter, where the lights above them flicker and the ring is nothing more than a set square spray-painted onto the ground in white.Like a kitchen meat tenderizer, flesh here is beaten to a pulp and by the end of it, no one can identify the loser.The crowd is loud and reckless and cheering when the fight before him is over; Hyunjoong the unlucky son of a bitch who is being dragged out of the ring unconscious, blood all over his face, swollen, a tooth or two missing from his bloody mouth.Serves him right though, Jongin thinks. He was an omega-beater, anyway."A'ight, bro." Sehun is adorning a beanie over his messy hair, shoulders hunched as he approaches with his hands in his pockets. "The winnings is looking to be about two-hundred bucks or so.""Just two-hundred bucks?!" Jongin hisses, a muted aggravation amidst the onslaught of ruckus and alpha cheering. "The fuck am I supposed to do with two-hundred bucks? Shit'll still earn me at least two broken legs and one broken arm. Hell, maybe even a few severed fingers--as opposed to the entire hand, but still!""Hey man," Sehun pats him on the back before nudging him in alpha comradery; the closest to any sort of comforting they get. "one fight at a time--am I right?"It's worth an incredulous shake of the head, shaking his tense limbs shortly after. Jongin breathes deep and dreads even just the thought of having to fight multiple of these sketchy fights in this dingy basement where gamblers and ex-cons and mafia criminals come to make quick easy cash all while enjoying the entertainment.At one point in time--maybe two years ago, when Jongin was a sophomore or something--he used to come here and simply just watch for the sake of sick sadistic cynicism. Sometimes he even opted to participate in fights mainly because, well, he just enjoyed it. But now he's frustrated, angry, easily irritated by obligations and most especially, ending up on the losing side of a bet gone wrong.Standing in the crowd where bodies are tightly compact and the atmosphere is rowdy, Jongin broods.He scans the room and just hopes that he isn't facing some douche-bag who's already lost feeling in their face and fists--cuz that shit is hella unfair, in his opinion.Jackson is here, like usual, walking around with the loudest voice and calling for all the degenerates to place their mother-fucking bets for the next fight that's about to begin.Jung Yunho is here, an old champ who used to participate in these sorts of things all the time, standing against a wall with silence being his earned right. He used to leave here every other night with blood on his clothes, now he's just an ol' veteran who's won more than he's lost. His omega beauty Jaejoong is standing by his side.Lee Chaerin is here; a rare occasion. Usually she's too cool for any sort of place to be graced with her presence more than once every few months. Long sleek silver-blond hair and round shades even in the dim lighting, she's an alpha who walks with slow strides but all the more calculated and intimidating. She must be betting on, or for a friend. A stack of cash rests in her hand.Mark Tuan is here,"Jongin, hey--Jongin." Sehun is pushing him forward, startling him back into the present. "c'mon, let's go. It's your turn. Shirt off."Whilst being shoved forward into the ring, Jongin loses the shirt and looks over his shoulder, rolling it up into a ball before tossing it aside onto the red and brown-stained concrete.Hey, wait a minute. Doesn't that Mark Tuan kid owe me fuckin' money? Someone rings a makeshift bell in his peripheral. Jackson hollers over the loud crowd, "Fight!" and then it dawns on him, Jongin's brows furrowing. Wait--yeah! He fuckin' owes me money!Sehun places his bet against Jongin that night, like a terrible friend should."Let's go! You got this, Jongin!" He roots from the sidelines.But inconspicuously, Sehun is shaking his head in the crowd. No you don't...This shit is a mess.
The very first time Jongin runs into Kyungsoo--it's not necessarily on equal grounds nor anything expectantly formal to even consider it a traditional introduction of any sort. Kyungsoo is standing above him, just a beautiful face with a halo around his head that hangs from the ceiling and flickers incessantly in the musk.This realm of befuddled infatuation has Jongin wincing on his back, a ringing in his ears, some sort of sting that burns everywhere on his face and leaves him consequently seeing stars even behind closed eyelids.It's just bruises and blood staring up at Kyungsoo from the floor. The omega starts to wonder why he's even here, amongst the rowdy crowd around them that's cheering and hollering and jostling shoulders with riotous anticipation, potential money on the line.And with his boyfriend beside him, tall and blatantly alpha and unwavered by the events, Kyungsoo is a returned gaze down at what makes him flinch at the gruesome sight.Jongin groans and rolls on his back, someone shouting, "C'mon Jongin! Get your fuckin' ass up!"This fight is on the verge of most likely being over after only two minutes. Five minutes is the standard.Although, the behemoth swaying with raised fists and a swollen-shut eye, must be on steroids.Technically it's uncommon that anyone even lasts over one minute with him. Two just might be a record.The loud cheering is just a vicious sort of mantra now. The lights still flicker and the place is stuffy with sweat and body-heat in the middle of winter.Jongin's head is practically between Kyungsoo's feet, battered and covered in blood. He groans when he starts to turn over, propping himself up with his elbow, bare torso covered in dirt and sweat."Sup, toots." He winks at the omega, absurd, because simultaneously he's wincing and spitting out a mouthful of blood onto the floor before he wobbles and turns away, stepping back into the ring.Kyungsoo gasps, maybe even scoffs as he then looks down at his shoes.With a sour expression Kyungsoo seethes at the battered alpha's back."You fucking... son of a bitch."Those were his favorite shitty sneakers goddamnit.