hold me down.
and he told me i was holy, he's got me down on both knees, but it's the devil that's tryna hold me down. @dearfaerie / eunchan & mincheol / building roof, 7:42 pm.
eunchan knows he’s fucked. fucked in the head. fucked in life. fucked in every way possible. fucked in the way that he can’t help but to stumble back to mincheol with greedy hands and a greedier mouth. can’t help that there’s this compulsion locked inside of him that he can’t seem to carve out, no matter how brutally, stubbornly he tries. it’s just part of him. that desperation to be wanted, needed, loved. anything. but it’s not something you can force, not really.
that doesn’t stop eunchan from trying. he does it with his brother, demands his attention. does it with the other boys, too. in different ways, with creeping hands and not-so-secret kisses. but mincheol pretends for him the best. he’ll say it, he’s not afraid of saying it. that he loves him, or when he calls him a favorite. and eunchan revels in that. would willingly drown himself in that affection. so that’s why he does it. that’s why he keeps coming back.it doesn’t matter how much mincheol hurts him, withholds from him, takes from him. eunchan can put up with the pain. he grew up in pain. but love? desire? that’s something different.
eunchan’s got a cigarette propped between his lips. pulls it out every so often to spit attempted smoke rings at the sky. they’re all wobbly around the edges before the wind tears them apart. has got himself draped across the concrete, his head pillowed by mincheol’s thigh where he’s sitting. he likes this. being alone. the noise of the other boys lost between the thick floors. nobody else around to distract them. or distract mincheol.
“we should come up here more. together.” eunchan stretches an arm out to ash his cigarette against the edge of the building. the dilapidated neighborhood stretched out beneath them. he doesn’t really know what mincheol will say to that. sometimes he’s hard to predict. some days he’ll play along with eunchan, let his hands play over him in something nearly affectionate. other days he leaves bruises, makes eunchan feel like he’s not worth much of anything. like nobody else would even try to put up with him. but it’s only sometimes. so it’s okay. really.
“i like it.” the word ‘you’ goes unsaid, though it’s all but visible in the wind-chilled air between them. eunchan’s not one for subtle, not in moments like this. he’s just a bundle of manic energy. overflowing emotions he can never seem to stop up. all vibrant in their angry, desperate energy. he’s a mess of a person, he knows he is. but at least mincheol had spotted that mess, decided he liked it enough to bring it home. eunchan takes another drag, tips his head back to try and meet mincheol’s gaze, lets a smile split across his face before he laughs. releases puffs of smoke as he turns his head to hide away his expression in the fabric of mincheol’s shirt.
