deicide.

man in the midst of the vermillion ocean, asked: what would you like to have? and he spoke through the silt of his mouth, saying: i want more, more, more of these beasts. do kyungsoo. xxiv. a syllabus to thearchy.

[soork-blog1]

—   pray for me.

         &. @rksxngyeol

thoughts often flit through the forefront of his mind without any momentary pause, their arbitrary movements almost startling. tonight, however, he chooses to indulge in the slithers of these focus-deprivation; it’s unusual of him to be so distracted, to be so... unearthed. he’s a clause of intents that typically are shaped from the raw calculations, mind always in the position of precisions. but tonight, he cannot seem to concentrate on anything. not even on jongin’s messages ( replied late, as always, after his training schedules ), so he decides to tell jongin to sleep, and that he needs rest himself.

lies don’t always hurt — he’s out, about without his car. simply combs through the streets of gangnam when he sees a familiar sight. a familiar face. sungyeol has been a man found and a man lost amidst the crowd stitched of the conglomerates in the country. he doesn’t feel like being social much, but he’s heard of... rumours, in regards to sungyeol. and curiosity wins over, so he approaches the man, a smile tugging the corners of his lips. “hello,” he starts. “fancy seeing you here. it’s been a while.”

[soork-blog1]

—   white noise.

          &. @hyunwoork

an antematter of the night ripples in the thoughts, forming syllables that sit unrest within the confines of the mind. he’s unwilling to admit that there’s something about the boy that renders him addicted, the smokes of jongin’s words billowing within the cage of his ribs. he’s unwilling to admit that he’s hooked around the boy’s finger, unwilling to admit that he’s a moment of weakness wrought out of pure needs for the boy’s touch. alas, that’s the truth. fiction no longer sates him, and so, he is somehow, somewhat, admitting to the fact that he’s dependent on the boy.

still, tonight is a spectre of the schedules that never give the boy a break. he’s unwilling to risk the boy’s health for a night walk; it’s not as if the boy hadn’t been strained enough. so, he takes a walk alone, passing by the usual places. the intervals of lights that bind, the sanctity of noises that wither. this isn’t a weekend, but the city that he’s known of has never truly slept. he’s yearning for a company that doesn’t irk him — a requirement that is far greater than what he can achieve, normally. but thinks of a place where he can be alone. heads towards the usual convenience store for getting a smoke first, however.

[soork-blog1]

—   anointed.

[soork-blog1]

rkjongin:

their kiss is reeking with how much he’s missed kyungsoo, how much he’s missed their just talking to each other on the phone when kyungsoo is far, and face-to-face when there’s only a wall separating them. their texts in-between the solid hours, too, sneaking what little time that he has to check and reply back, although he could tell almost immediately that kyungsoo didn’t and doesn’t enjoy texting as much compared to other options. his thoughts return to the moment, and kyungsoo’s teasing renders his cheeks even redder, but he only chuckles sheepishly in reply. when they’re pulling away completely, kyungsoo’s voice is laced in concern. “i will,” he promises, hand working its way between kyungsoo’s fingers, intertwining his own with those slender fingers of his lover’s. “no, he’s not. can i… can i stay over?” the question is not out of the blue; it’s not like the first time they’ve done it. but still, it specks his cheeks in rose dust again, and jongin curses himself inwardly at how shy he is.

the boy is... to say the least, endearing. not something that, again, kyungsoo would often find himself use, but the boy has always been an exception all along. he sighs against the kiss as he tangles his fingers in jongin’s hair, humming as their open-mouthed contact grows deeper, hungrier. when they parts, breaths mingling in the proximity, jongin’s face is still flushed, causing his smile to bloom. and it only grows more as jongin asks to stay over, which causes his own chest to swell with a sense of delight — foreign, but perhaps this is what it means: to have reciprocated obsession, in a way. a vice that kyungsoo cannot deny but to indulge, a chance that he’s learned to embrace. he presses a kiss along jongin’s jawline, and whispers back into jongin’s ear in answer, “you can always stay over.” nips at the earlobe lightly before pulling away. “make yourself at home, as always. anything you wanna do? i suggest sleeping since... i don’t think you have enough of that.”

[soork-blog1]

—   anointed.

[soork-blog1]

rkjongin:

guilt has always been a common factor of his days: guilt towards his parents, guilt towards kyungsoo. and as much as he wants to show his apologetic gestures towards them, it’s just impossible with the time constraints. but he’s determined, tonight, to see if kyungsoo is home — if his texts with kyungsoo, no matter how spaced out and late at night they usually are, are anything to go by, kyungsoo must be free and at home at this time. they’re neighbours, for goodness’ sake, and jongin understands that it might be frustrating for kyungsoo to date someone who’s literally living next door to him but isn’t available most of the time. it’s been almost a week since their last date, and even so, their date was only at the place nearby. a rooftop cinema no one really went to. and tonight, he doesn’t care as to where they’re going, as long as it’s just two of them. heartbeats quickening upon approaching kyungsoo’s door, which is odd considering just how long they’ve been dating, he pushes the doorbell and waits. when the door is open, he grins in returns to kyungsoo’s warm smile, and has to fight every urge to kiss kyungsoo right away, for the hallways are full of cameras. instead, he waits until they’re inside to cup kyungsoo’s cheek, placing a lingering kiss against the lips.

he steps aside, letting the boy enter his abode, which has always been so quiet voices tend to echo louder than it seems. he hums when jongin places his palms on kyungsoo’s check, his kiss almost filled with inevitable hunger. kyungsoo’s response to it is almost as desperate, ensuring the boy that he isn’t alone in the insatiable need for each other. he hums against the kiss, one hand placed on the nape of jongin’s neck and the other on jongin’s cheek, thumb brushing across the bone. frowns slightly when jongin pulls away for a breathing, and leans his head against jongin’s as he strokes jongin’s cheek. he traces jongin’s features with his eyes, watching as the boy seems to sink under his gaze, cheeks flushed red. “still shy, aren’t we?” he teases, grinning at jongin. kisses him once more, resuming the longing that has been left dry for days on end. now that they are face-to-face, kyungsoo doesn’t need to indulge himself in the inane pictures taken by his pi’s. “you look worn,” he says, frowning deeper. “you should rest tonight. is your father home?”

[soork-blog1]

—   anointed.

           &. @rkjongin

in this late hour, when jaunts of the day become a past participle, he’s swiping through the information given to him through a multitude of different means. jongin hasn’t been resting; instead, on christmas celebrations, he is to exert even more efforts through many different activities, which kyungsoo doesn’t approve of but also has never said any words on. being a trainee is a life chosen by jongin, far before he met kyungsoo. he understands the boy through the kaleidoscope of tinted colors, where dreams and realities collided via hard work. and while he admires this quality of jongin, he’s also been imploring for the boy to rest more. i’ll try — don’t worry, is what jongin has always been saying, but he’s certain that it’s mere words more than anything else. he’s in the midst of scrolling through the sent pictures when the doorbell rings, and he furrows his eyebrows. there’s no appointment during the holiday, with his father being away for another trip. he’s content with being left alone for the time being, but this interruption doesn’t seem unwanted. through the peephole, he sees the face he’s been missing, and opens the door to greet jongin with a warm smile.

[rkjongin-blog1]

`   STAY.

[soork-blog1]

rkjongin:

sometimes, being with kyungsoo is a question in itself — he doesn’t know whether the man truly likes the things they’re doing together or if it’s merely an attempt to win his attention, whatever the end goal is. and in here, is another inquiry of the mind. for moments, jongin catches those — the seemingly bored expression masked as neutrality, and he might seem ignorant himself but he’s never as quaint as most people think he is. not as naive, but kyungsoo seems to not grasp that either, as perceptive as kyungsoo is. it’s not until they start talking again that the feelings of doubt recede, bit by bit. he hums, grateful that even if kyungsoo might not like the ride entirely, kyungsoo still wants to spend time with him. that, at least, is what’s irreplaceable. not like jongin can give kyungsoo anything much anyway, not like jongin can give kyungsoo any benefits. he’s an established man with little to do with jongin’s father’s works. he heads towards the stall and orders the drinks as he wills the thoughts away, paying and receiving the two cups, handing one over to kyungsoo.

and the boy is lost in his own reverie, it seems. he has this way of expressing himself to none in particular when it comes to being pensive — he’s been thinking a lot, too. kyungsoo has always paid attention, but according to sources, jongin isn’t typically one to submerge himself in thoughts feet too deep. previously, he was a boy of a river-depth. now, something has been digging the shallow pool into a deeper, darker water body. an ocean, slowly but surely. and kyungsoo of course knows as to why; the death, the bereavement. but hasn’t it been a while? kyungsoo doesn’t quite recall the taste of lament on his own tongue, so he cannot truly relate. the closest relatives that passed didn’t really leave any embedded feelings in him. it’s overrated, feeling. he absorbs the boy’s posture, the way he stands and talks as jongin orders the drinks for them. he thanks jongin as he receives his own, taking a sip after placing a smile to somewhat… reassure jongin. whatever it is that’s in his mind, kyungsoo doesn’t know, but for some odd reason that he himself doesn’t comprehend, he cares. which is a peculiar case for kyungsoo. “so, what’s next?” he inquires.

[rkjongin-blog1]

`   STAY.

[soork-blog1]

rkjongin:

he’s half aware of the eyes that track his every move; a distant revelation at the periphery of his view, but he doesn’t want to admit that entirely as he knows it would only make him blush, sheepish. he’s enjoying the ride instead, focusing himself on the climbing adrenaline as he screams his lungs out along with the rest of the passengers. he tightens his hold around kyungsoo’s hand when the track gets steep, readying himself for the drop. he doesn’t really register anything else apart from the rapture, and surely, kyungsoo himself. when the ride finally comes to a halt, he grins at kyungsoo, not letting go until he has to unbuckle his seatbelt. he lets out a huff of relief as he approaches kyungsoo, heading to the exit. “hyung,” he starts, walking close to kyungsoo. “are you thirsty? my throat is parched after all that.”

it feels juvenile, the entirety of the so-called “date”, and he would typically mind being placed in such a situation, but somehow with jongin, it’s become... bearable, to say the least. he’s never been an altruist, but he’s at least a good pretender, coming from a long line of the legacy. it’s like family heirloom, how they wear the fake smiles and faux skins. he’s never been a fan of rollercoaster either, the entire “thrill” a concept that wrought almost naught for him. but alas, he’s dating a child, now, and a child that infuses something akin to feelings in him. with the boy, he can pretend that he’s not so empty, after all. there’s a genuine tug against the corners of his lips when the ride is over, but the hands are still interlinked. when they part ways for a moment, there’s an odd sense of void, and so, he doesn’t wait to close the gap again upon exiting. “i am,” he nods. “let’s get some drink.”

[soork-blog1]

rkjongin:

(   NOVA FLYER N°. 07   ) he’s not entirely sure as where he is when he meets him. it’s kyungsoo — the hyung next door; he’s walking along the sidewalk with a man who seems like a colleague, the aura of an adult emanates from him. kyungsoo catches his gaze first, before jongin manages to look away, and jongin swears that he’s blushing. he swallows, hard, frozen in place. he nearly looks away when kyungsoo walks closer, closing the gap between them — and when he’s asked the question ( “aren’t you supposed to give me one?” ) with that signature smile of kyungsoo’s, he chuckles nervously, handing one to kyungsoo. after that, he peruses kyungsoo’s back after the goodbyes are exchanged, lost amidst the cascade of crowd.

in the hallowed hours of the day, he thinks about the boy that mars the corners of his thoughts with purpled bruises. wounds, he doesn’t know why he’d regard his reveries as such; but perhaps, just perhaps, it’s just an illumination of privileges that he typically doesn’t allow himself to indulge in. this, the fact that he likes the boy enough to rent a space in his thoughts specifically for jongin, wilts the usually compound permanence of void that resides within. his company’s words are mere wisps, he doesn’t listen. he doesn’t listen, but he looks around. and spots him, the boy. a smile, because he knows what the boy’s up to after the array of texts sent from his intels. at that, he approaches the boy, and it’s obvious that jongin hasn’t expected his presence. he tells his company to wait for a moment as he strides towards the boy, and smirks wider at the blush that specks jongin’s cheeks with rosedust. “aren’t you supposed to give me one?” he inquires, and at the response, he reigns in a chuckle. the boy is always amusing, to say the least. but alas, he doesn’t have a lot of time to squander, lingering in the vicinity. the office meeting is waiting, so he bids the boy goodbye. not without slight laments, however.

[rkjongin-blog1]

`   STAY.

[soork-blog1]

rkjongin:

he doesn’t know whether it’s a dream or not — it does, however, feel like another reverie stored at the crook of realities. he feels like a rebel, slightly. he feels a little wild, a little giddy. in here, he’s holding hands with a man that he’s been thinking of, albeit the discreet nature of this so-called-date. he feels a little guilty: this is explicitly said in the contract, to not date, but how would he say no when kyungsoo said a casual yes to his whimsical, juvenile idea of a date in an amusement park? and here they are, sitting on a rollercoaster on jongin’s day off, ready to launch. and kyungsoo’s hand is on top of his, causing his heart to flutter. kyungsoo isn’t looking at him now, and he’s too shy to look at kyungsoo all the same. he chooses to look at the rail in front of them, hoping that he won’t embarrass himself with his free laughter and whatnot.   (   &. @soork   )

the day ripples in technicolor: for a moment, he’s submerged underwater, gossamer edges of the worlds blurring his vision. for another, he’s ascended into a trance, thin filaments of the clouds blindfolding his senses. in here, the boy’s smiles, streaking spectrum across his sight. in here, the boy’s hand, gripped tight inside his own. he doesn’t let go. doesn’t intend to. sexual orientation is a social construct that he cares for no longer; he just comprehends the nature of this relationship. a symbiosis that doesn’t require a lot of thoughts, just actions. and with the boy, the void seems to dwindle immensely, leaving him with muted euphoria that he doesn’t really know how to digest. but he’s not thinking anymore, listening to boy’s free laugh as the rollercoaster begins to ride the track. he smiles to himself, eyes tracing the contours of the boy’s face.

[soork-blog1]

rkjuyeon:

she’s managed to hand out nearly half a handful of sphere flyers, although it’s a little more difficult for her than she’d hoped it to be. maybe if she was bustling about with trc or kt flyers, more people would be interested. juyeon spots another potential flyer receiver in the distance, so she stands for a moment and watches, waiting for the appropriate moment to run and pounce. and so she does, carefully trotting over to the unsuspecting male, she taps his shoulder, looking across to him with a grin. “hi there,” she says warmly, looking down at the flyers in her grasp. “i’m handing out flyers for sphere entertainment, would you like to take one?” juyeon asks, raising an eyebrow. “each one taken really helps me out!" 

streets these days have been a jaunt forgotten for him that he almost forgets how to relish in being a face out of the foreign sea. with the piles of work await for his return, he doesn’t have much time to waste, knowing too well that the phone in his pocket is now buzzing with countless calls from a multitude of callers, wishing that he would, for once, pick his phone up. yet here he is, still in his pristine suit and tie, wandering around the area to relieve the stress that’s been building up. at least there’s a promise of a date coming later this week, and the thought alone makes everything... bearable, somehow. and in the midst of this reverie, comes a voice that greets him. he looks at her — a kid, perhaps a high school kid. the corners of his lips are tugged in a cordial smile, and he takes one of the flyers. “thank you.”

[soork-blog1]

—   four seasons.

[soork-blog1]

rkjongin:

and as he’s refreshed, he takes a better look at the man, casting scrutiny drenched in curiosity. he’s never really good with masking it, that boy who always follows his impulse blindly, not learning from past mistakes despite the multitude of gaffes that it’s caused him. but with kyungsoo, he feels inexplicably safe, as though he knew that kyungsoo wouldn’t judge him for it. besides, he’s quite reassured that the man still holds some interests in him — as proven by how he’s waited for jongin despite his not letting the man answer prior to disappearing behind the door. he doesn’t seem irritated either as far as jongin could tell; but then again, kyungsoo seems like the opposite of jongin, never wearing his heart on his sleeve.

even then, a smile. that catches jongin off-guard, almost. he smiles back — no, grins back. it’s a little too big for his liking, but he doesn’t think that he’d like to pretend in front of kyungsoo. after all, kyungsoo has figured out who he is — he’s definitely the type to comprehend jongin’s nature before they even started speaking, and for that, jongin feels grateful, in spite of the knowledge that he should’ve been worrying about it instead.

“ah…,” he cannot help but ponder the answer, slightly startled by how casual it is. as they walk towards the elevator, ambling leisurely — side by side, too — he shakes his head, almost in shame. “only once or twice before…” he wonders if that was a test, although as an afterthought he doesn’t think kyungsoo is the type to judge someone based on their vice preferences. “do you… smoke a lot?” almost worried; raised in a family in which smoking is not something they indulge in, he’s more of a passive smoker all his life. “does it… relieve the stress?” he asks, tentative. he doesn’t know if it’s too intrusive to inquire such a question, but then again, hasn’t kyungsoo crossed that line since the beginning?

but of course, the questions have always been more rhetorical than not; he’s known about everything that can be gathered in regards to jongin’s habits — and some private information but barely all, breaching that statute of personal boundaries before jongin could even set it. he’s known that jongin barely smokes, barely drinks. it’s not even knowledge gained from the multitude of intelligent bodies that he’s sent to gauge information about the boy; it’s mere instinctual knowledge gained from the first insight he thought over the boy. he always has a penchant for reading people. that, and the fact that he has resources ( and perhaps, a questionable morality issue ) combined, create a man with enough power to ruin the city in one night.

and of course, with jongin, he doesn’t want that. for once, his intents are pure. for once, his intents are... almost naught. he just wants to spend time with the boy, which is very unusual of him — time is typically a factor counted with detailed precisions, exploited for personal gains only. but this time, he doubts that there’s any personal gain sought from this kind of moment.

the boy’s inquisitive questions spread another smile across his face, and he wedges a pause in-between, letting the queries die down for a timespan. they walk into the elevator, and he presses the button. watches the boy as he leans against the elevator wall, and hums. “not really, if it’s measured according to my standard,” he says. “it relieves the stress. more of a self-fulfilling prophecy than not, though. it just... keeps me occupied.” the soft ding of the elevator indicates that they’ve arrived on the ground level, and he lets jongin exit first.

[soork-blog1]

rkjongin:

[   message » hyung next door   ] how… how did you know?? [   message » hyung next door   ] i’m honestly still so shocked, hyung.

[   message to: the boy   ] let’s say... i have eyes everywhere. [   message to: the boy   ] but you’ve known that, haven’t you? [   message to: the boy   ] you’ll do fine.

[rkhyorin-deactivated20180629]

underground.

[soork-blog1]

rkyukji:

being a wanderer was fun, most of the time, since most of the time jidam found herself in really fun, interesting places. sometimes, though, it landed her in really sketchy, dangerous places too. like right now, for instance. how she had wandered into an underground fighting ring was beyond her at this point. some guy at the bar she had walked into had bought her a couple drinks and given her an address, and she had tried to go there but ended up her instead, it seems, unless this was where the guy wanted her to go? she had no idea anymore, she just felt very, very lost.

the fight going on looked pretty horrific, she couldn’t help but wince as she watched on, even turning away a few times. it was really bad, and not her scene, she decided. she was curious though, as to why others got a kick out of watching this type of stuff and even gambling on it. there’s so much organised crime in korea, it’s kind of insane when really thought about. but, this is how it was, and jidam was in the heart of some of it. 

there was one guy she ended up standing next to as the fight went on. it was less crowded in the area, and jidam felt like she could breathe a bit better. she looked to the guy, staring for a moment before she decided to speak up and introduce herself. “i’m jidam. what.. is this place?” she was hoping this stranger could help her out a little and explain everything. how did these fights even work? was it like boxing? mixed martial arts? wrestling? she was confused, and very, very lost.

@soork

three floors away from the streets, capillaries of the city spanning above them in ignorance. as the veined roads are coloured in neon lights, car traces, he’s standing in the vip area of this underground scene, watching, waiting. there’s something akin to peculiarities wrapped around this kind of sight; no strobes of mass spotlights, no wafts of alcoholic scents — just him, surrounded by crowd that cannot touch him for he’s standing far from the ring, in a vantage point reserved for a huge sponsor like him. and tonight, he’s betting on a boy with sun-kissed skin, his limbs seemingly out of place — he doesn’t belong in this place, in this ring, yet there he stands, unmoving.

and when the fight starts, he eases into the rhythm, perusing the boy’s moves. years and years of training himself, he knows that the boy is birthed in the circumstances that allowed him to experience the extent of full practices, under the tutelage of someone the best in their field. everything is based on techniques; which he holds no surprise over when the boy is punched in the face. it’s an underground ring, after all, not a sparring session. it takes the boy a while to pick himself up from the shock, but when he does, he keeps drilling through, which is entertaining.

and upon being crowned a winner, the boy meets his eyes. kyungsoo is stunned, slightly, caught off guard that he doesn’t register the person talking to him until a second later. looks at her in a questioning manner, but he maintains a sense of hospitality. “hello, jidam,” he politely replies. “it’s an underground ring. watch, and you shall see.”

[soork-blog1]

           &. @rkjongin

[   message to: the boy   ] heard you were invited for an audition. [   message to: the boy   ] congratulations.

[soork-blog1]

—   four seasons.

[soork-blog1]

rkjongin:

it seems to him that his embarrassment is half-baseless, although it’s fairly common for him to blush whenever such a gaffe occurs. in spite of his seemingly exuberant personality, he’s not as shameless as people might have thought of him, and this instance proves that. he wants to clear his throat, further rubbing at the nape of his neck to appease his discomfiture, but he doesn’t. instead, he pulls everything in, wanting nothing but to look calm in front of kyungsoo.

it doesn’t work that way, however. kyungsoo knows, for he’s older, more experienced than jongin. it’s only until it becomes an afterthought that jongin realises there’s almost naught to be shy about; it’s just him, being a teenager that he is. against the crooks of his thoughts are the probabilities of simply wishing he could seem more mature, wondering if kyungsoo was disinterested by the fact that he wasn’t as tough as he might’ve seemed in the ring. it doesn’t seem to be the case yet as of current, and queries in regards to it flicker in his mind, but he simply cannot focus on multitasking. kyungsoo’s voice is almost submerged underwater, blurred when he looks up again, hearing kyungsoo right when the questions are asked.

at that, jongin swallows thickly, palpably nervous. is it… a date? goodness, he hasn’t been in one for so long, he’s forgotten how. and maybe he’s thinking too far ahead — kyungsoo is a stranger, for god’s sake. an acquaintance, at most. he almost shakes his head at himself, yet he cannot help but ask himself if he should take a quick shower, before deciding against it. “no… i’m okay. a walk — a walk can do, yes,” he nods, and tries not to let the flatter of the blush speck his cheeks again. “i’ll change my clothes for a bit. uh, please wait here for a bit?”

he rushes in, not waiting for kyungsoo to reply, almost scared that kyungsoo would turn down the request. closing the door behind him, he leans against it for a while, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels his heart racing. he’s perhaps crushing on kyungsoo, being an older man with such a charm. he’s perhaps looking silly in front of kyungsoo, and he doesn’t know what to do about it. shaking his head to try and let it go, he toes his shoes off, running towards his room to drop his bag and change his hoodies, towards the bathroom to splash water over his face. he looks… worn, positively weary after the matches, but he’s not missing out on a walk with kyungsoo.

he’s been wanting to know kyungsoo for a while, after all.

it feels like a high school puppy love all over again, but he doesn’t care. sighs as he rubs his eyes, and pushes his hair back. he heads out after putting his shoes on, then, hoping that it hasn’t been too long. “sorry, i hope you weren’t waiting for too long,” he speaks as soon as he stumbles back out. “where — where do you wanna walk to?”

the boy is standing on a gashed ground, halved between pomegranate-stained thoughts about the man and hurricane-veined memoirs about the past. and he thinks about how he’d like to know both. how he’d like to understand the inner turmoil that spans across the boy’s battlefield, how he’d like to trace his fingers through the invisible scars that colour the boy’s skins. but for now, he thinks that this is enough: the sight of the boy’s blushed cheeks, primrose against the contours of his cheekbones.

it’s almost risible, not in the mockeries, but in the ironies. he’s the one approaching the boy, and the boy is the one flustered. he finds himself smiling at it, although it’s masked as another cordial tug of lips.

when the boy approves of the idea, his smile grows wider, into a grin that whispers intents undisclosed. every single commemoration of the event leads back to the point where he believes that the boy is also interested in him; the curiosity being a mutual bond that now is being expanded. and he’s slightly too absorbed in his own slivers of reverie that he doesn’t reply promptly enough for the boy. before he knows it, the boy has disappeared behind a closed door, leaving him rather amused.

he stands far from rejection, now, pulling himself away from the precipice of paranoia in regards to this. the boy is absolutely whipped, much to kyungsoo’s amusement, and he’s more entertained than he thought he would be. although truly, he’d never thought that anything would go further than simply an encounter through the ring; who would’ve known that apparently it’s just a penthouse wall that separates them apart?

leans against the wall as he waits for the boy, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. remnants of his smile have dissipated, but it doesn’t dilute the fact that he’s... inebriated with the weight of the terse conversation he’s just had. nobody has gotten to this point for a long time; he’s always been hard to please. but jongin seems to capture his attention rather instantly, rather effortlessly. not even his type, but the boy seems to charm him to the core. perhaps it’s the violence, perhaps it’s the suffering. void is invited by the pain, after all, and maybe the boy is the temporary end to his emptiness — so he decides that it would be what the boy is, for now.

he’s in the midst of checking his phone — all the notifications from work that he swipes left — when jongin is back, palpably hurried. he looks less weary compared to before, with a fresh hoodie on. he unlatches himself from the wall, and smiles again at just how shy the boy is. “anywhere is good,” he says. “i was just going for a smoke, but do you? smoke?”

[neoye-deactivated20140306]

[soork-blog1]

—   four seasons.

[soork-blog1]

rkjongin:

at this point, he’s come to a conclusion: it’s incredibly difficult to read the man, his expressions a web of impressions crafted and knitted carefully to leave a certain image. it’s almost impossible to pinpoint a particular trait about kyungsoo upon a first meeting, but this hasn’t been the first. this is the second, yet jongin is never the best at reading people, especially those with intricate minds, like kyungsoo. all that he knows is that kyungsoo has schooled his demeanours in such a manner to manipulate jongin’s thoughts about him, and for that, jongin is terribly conflicted.

somewhere at the back of his mind, his instinct is screaming at him, telling him to get away from kyungsoo.

kyungsoo might be dangerous — but then again, hasn’t he been challenging everything that he’s stood against these days, trying to cope with the cluster of guilt that stubbornly remains? it’s not his fault, it’s never his fault, but he cannot shake off the fact that he failed to notice those signs shown by taejong, especially in the last of his days.

he’s lost in the vortex of his thoughts, and almost failed to notice what kyungsoo was saying. at that, his cheeks blister red from the embarrassment, realising that his comment about the betting was… uncalled for. however, he hasn’t the slightest idea as to what to say when kyungsoo seems to have discovered everything about him. “ah… i’m — i’m sorry,” he eventually says, a hand rubbing the nape of his neck.

the boy is lost in thoughts once more — eyes glassed with the slivers of mind-borne maladies. in the vultures that are the consuming the boy, kyungsoo wonders if he can help the boy in any way. no, not as a charity case — he’s far from holy. maybe more like a selfish habit. or maybe no, not as a selfish habit. it’s a personal exception, but self-centric regardless, concrete with the fact that it’s all that kyungsoo has ever been. or hasn’t he? appa is the hellhound howl that streams in his marrows, like liquid silver, all mercury. appa makes him believe that everything revolves around kyungsoo, kyungsoo, kyungsoo. that every single catastrophe is a syllabus to his longing, his own longing. not appa’s, never appa’s.

at least, out of everything that appa has ever manipulated him into believing, he knows that this one is the utmost example of his egocentrism. there’s no appa, just him. there’s no influence, just him.

he wants to pull the boy away from the beasts that feast on the boy’s mind, but he knows that moving too rapidly would only scare the prey away. it’s endearing, again, how the boy is flustered at the simple thing that he pointed out. he chuckles, low and quiet. “there’s no need to be sorry,” he replies, letting a smile bloom this time. “are you tired? do you wanna walk out for a bit, maybe?”