There is no smoke without pride, no spark like hatred, no match like greed, no fire like jealousy… And Kihyun was burning.
Every moment of every day, it seemed, he burned. The blaze was such that he was amazed he wasn’t reduced to nothing but ash and bone fragment yet. As he lay next to you every single night, listening to the dark secrets you kept in your sleep, he suffocated a raging inferno of emotion. Among them, he recognised confusion, loss, worry. But, king of them all, was jealousy. That particular serpent had turned his heart a dark, ominous green.
Kihyun had always been an ace. Hard work and perseverance always came second to God given skill and talent. Almost everything he did came easily to him; he was a natural. A natural singer. A natural visual. A natural millionaire. A natural winner.
Except when it came to the only thing he’d ever truly, truly wanted.
He’d won you once, yes. Triumphantly. But now, he just knew he was losing you. It was the only true taste he’d ever had of defeat, of powerlessness, and he didn’t much like the rotten, jealous, maddening touch of it on his tongue. When he kissed you and you hesitated to close your eyes for the briefest of moments, the contact was ripe with it. When he witnessed you changing and you no longer looked up to watch him ogle you, to tease him, it twisted his skin with a mocking fang. And when he fucked you, when he was deep inside you and watching your face twist with some incredible rapture, it planted notions in his head, whispering, hissing voices that told him you were thinking of someone else.
A so-called best friend Judas.
He’d been with you both earlier, eating. Kihyun had choked down rice as he acted like he couldn’t see what was plainly written across Hoseok’s face. Kihyun’s member had passed you a vegetable, and the word beautiful had been screaming inside his eyes, in the way he so tenderly placed the food on your plate. Kihyun had twitched to up-end the porcelain, his serpent’s heart ticking with such pure venom that he, in a flash second, had the crippling urge to strike Hoseok with everything he had.
You’d been laughing all the while, oblivious to your boyfriend’s torment, fingers covering your mouth, your eyes sparkling with amusement as you’d chuckled you’re so funny sometimes.
Hoseok had bit his lip and rolled those muscled shoulders as if to say, yeah I am, baby.
Kihyun had interjected, ruining your little conversation, tearing burning words away from traitorous sentences. He fixed Hoseok with a dark stare as he’d said to you, “Let’s go out and see that movie you talked about earlier.” before kissing you deep, sexual, possessive. In a way that had made you moan, in a way that had been obvious.
After the movie, he’d taken you to your place and fucked loved you so hard that you’d almost screamed the walls down. He needed to hear his name leave your lips. He needed to know the fucking neighbours knew who the hell he was.
Your lover. Your love. Your only love. Your only lover–
Now, in the total darkness of somewhere between one and three am, Kihyun closed his eyes and blacked off from the dark walls of your bedroom, scared he’d shed venomous tears. They prickled and burned at the corners of his eyes, concentrated with pure fucking jealousy. The heels of his hands found his sockets, as if they could force the tears back in, as if hiding them would make it any fucking better.
Kihyun took a deep breath and looked over at you lying so peacefully in your Garden of Eden. Your back was exposed, skin luminous in the slight silver of the moon that shone through the thinly veiled windows. He realised he was reaching for you in the same moment that his fingertip made contact with your warm flesh, and he was rolling onto his side a moment later. The sheets slid from his body, exposing him to the cool night air as he traced your figure so tenderly with a grazing nail. He yearned for you to wake up, to reach back and find him bare and ready, to take him in your hand and work him until he shook, until he was singing his love for you.
You were so fucking beautiful.
It was no wonder everyone wanted you.
Kihyun leaned in, craving your closeness. The side of his face pressed against your shoulder, and he inhaled. Breathing in your presence, your soul. He kissed your skin gently, in a way he had done a thousand million times before, moving his hand across your waist, your hip, your ass. You responded with a gentle sigh, a sigh that evolved into a louder, more sensual moan.
A moan that set the burning to fever. A sick, shaking fever.
Because, just like that, just so fucking easily, Kihyun imagined you moaning for Hoseok. Not for him, who’d given you his heart and his body and his everything, but for someone else. His best friend. Sickness rose in his throat as he pictured the two of you together. Fear crippled him at the thought that Hoseok was a better fit for you, your personality, your interests, your aspirations, your body.
Kihyun ripped the covers from himself and stood. You rumbled, wakening, and your head rolled over your pillow to look up at him.
“Ki?” you asked, your voice so sleepy. Totally unaware of the secrets your body spilled late at night, when you thought nobody was listening.
“What? What’s wrong? What’s happened?” you sat up, frightened.
Go back to your moaning. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Where… where are you going?”
Kihyun pulled his t-shirt over his head, fastening his belt a moment later. His voice was harsher than he intended: “Just go back to sleep.”
“You’re scaring me…” good. “Has something happened?”
Kihyun almost exploded, almost detonated with accusations and heartbreak.
But he was nothing if not well practiced.
“Nothing’s happened.” yet. “Go back to sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And, like that, he left you for Hoseok’s studio.
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