Title: Coffee & Regrets ♥
Chapter: Eight [R] Minor Swearing
Overall Fic Rating: NC-17
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Summary: A pair of lovers, worn and faded by time, hope to recapture what they once had… or walk away after bittersweet goodbyes.
“No!” Min struggled in Se7en’s arms, horror and shame crawling over his face. Don’t let him see you. Oh God, how can he see you here? His mind screamed at him.
Changmin knew he had nothing to be ashamed of. They’d both walked away from one another. He owed Dong-Wook nothing other than a civil hello when they saw one another but at the moment, Min wanted nothing more than to crawl into the ground and pull the cement slab he’d nearly bashed in head on over him.
“What happened to you?” The older man skimmed his fingertips over Changmin’s cheekbone. “Did you get hit?”
“Let go of me,” Min snapped, struggling to get free of Se7en’s arms. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” The singer responded.
While Min had never been bulky, his lean form was even thinner, nearly bird bone light in his arms. Changmin sprawled graceless over his forearms, his limbs seemingly too heavy for him to move. The younger man’s dark eyes flicked back and forth, unable to focus on Se7en’s face and for an alarming moment, the older man was worried he’d been drugged. Then a familiar blush crept over the singer’s closed-off features and Se7en realized Min was embarrassed.
The bags under Changmin’s eyes strangely reassured him, although the forming bruise joining him alarmed Se7en. Dark pink swells were shaping around the purpling marks, about the size of a man’s knuckles. He was too thin, too light in Se7en’s arms. The easy smile that always seemed to hover around Min’s mouth was gone, replaced by a streak of bitterness etched in the lines on his face.
Se7en longed to bring the smile back to the younger man’s eyes.
And to feel Min’s mouth on his again.
“Let me help you,” Se7en said softly, lifting Min to his feet. “Stop fighting me.”
The rain began, soaking them through their clothes. Min shivered, wondered if the cold water could wash everything away, including his shame and mistakes. His face felt hot and he was sure there was steam rising from his skin where the cold water drops hit.
“I can’t,” Min whispered, feeling his body respond to his former lover in ways that it hadn’t with Bi. “All I can do is fight you.”
In his heart, he knew it was true. Every cell in his body screamed to crawl away… to not let Se7en see how far he’d fallen from being loved…from being cherished. He lay in Se7en’s embrace stinking of another man’s mouth and wearing another man’s mark on his face.
“You’re about to fall on your face,” Se7en murmured. “I’m going to get you into the car.”
“How did you find me?” Changmin asked, his words slurring. His head throbbed, the swell on his face aching when he spoke. Blinking, he tried to clear his vision but the world grew misty. The rain was a thick sheet and he could barely see across the street. “Why are you here?”
“You can’t drive remember?” Se7en said, helping Min to the curb. He fished a set of car keys from his pocket and opened up the door to a parked black sedan. “I called the hyenas to get your number and when you didn’t answer, I asked them for your address but I found out you’d left. You gave the doorman the address when he called your taxi.”
“You bribed my doorman?”
“I assisted your doorman in paying for his dinner over the next few weeks,” Se7en said. “So yes, I bribed your doorman. Get in the car.”
“Is this your car?” Min bumped his head on the roof getting in and his vision spun again. “I think my face hurts.”
“You don’t look good,” Se7en agreed. “What happened?”
“I was stupid,” Changmin admitted. “And I think I’m going to…”
His stomach rebelled, emptying onto the street. Se7en stepped back, the gush of liquid splashing over his shoes. He gagged at the sour smell of Min’s vomit but he kept his throat closed. Glancing up at the building, Se7en pursed his mouth and contemplated his options.
“Are you drunk?” Se7en asked, smelling the beer from Min’s belly. “It’s in the middle of the day.”
“I needed to get drunk,” Changmin said, sniffing. “I needed to… go up there…”
“Who’s up there?” He asked, handing Min a bottle of water from the back seat of his car. “Did he do this to you?”
“What makes you think that it’s a he?”
“You’d let a woman hit you?” Se7en studied Min’s face. “I’m guessing it’s someone strong and only a little bit shorter than you. Yunho?”
“No,” Changmin grumbled. “Jae-ah would kill him if he hit me like this.”
“What makes you think I won’t kill who hit you like this?”
“Because I’m not yours anymore,” Min’s gulp hitched his breath and he fought to keep his sobs from spilling out of him. The sorrow was nearly too much to take. It hung heavy under his throat and pressed down on his stomach, a malevolent stone weighing him down. Slung down in the passenger seat of the sedan, Min looked up at Se7en, mournful and sad. “Was I ever yours, Shichi?”
Bi heard the doorbell ring and frowned. He’d not gotten a call from the front desk to tell him he had a visitor and it had been nearly an hour since he’d tossed Min out of his apartment. Since he didn’t know anyone else who lived in the building, he couldn’t imagine who was at the door.
If someone had bet him a million dollars, he’d never have guessed Choi Dong-Wook.
“Huh,” Bi stared at the other dancer, curling his lip in a derisive sneer. They’d never been friends of any sort. Competition on several occasions, especially on the charts and from the look on Dong-Wook’s face, Rain had a sneaking suspicion that they were rivals for a long-legged, sweet-faced young man. Turning away, he waved Se7en in and walked towards the kitchen area. “Come in.”
Se7en closed the door behind him, looking around the apartment. It was spacious and luxurious, a far cry from the more streamlined, modern look he preferred. He didn’t want to imagine Min spread out on the couch but he couldn’t help wonder if that’s where his ex-lover submitted to Bi’s kisses and caresses. The furniture was expensive-looking, not someplace comfortable to sprawl on and certainly not soft enough to cradle lovers as they enjoyed one another.
Although by the disarray of the sofa’s cushions, he guessed more than sitting took place there earlier.
“Do you want a beer?” Bi asked from the kitchen, holding up a cold bottle. “But then you’re probably not going to stay long enough to finish one.”
“You’re not surprised to see me?” Se7en asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. Rain’s cocky smile was telling, especially when the other man glanced at the disheveled couch. If Se7en didn’t capture his hands in his jeans, he knew he’d end up punching Bi’s face in.
“No, I know why you’re here,” Bi replied. He took an apple from a bowl on the counter. Biting into its dark red skin, he took a mouthful and chewed. “Or I guessed… Changmin.”
“He’s mine.” Se7en walked over to the kitchen counter, taking his hands out of his jeans and leaning his palms on the counter.
“If he were yours, you’d not have let him up here,” The other man said before he took another bite of the apple. Bi chased the fruit down with a gulp of beer. “And he came looking for me, dongsaeng. Obviously you’re not enough to keep him… satisfied.”
Se7en’s fists clenched before he realized it and he forced himself to relax his hands. “We’ve…”
“I don’t care,” Rain said, gesturing with the apple. “I don’t if you two fought and broke up or if he’s cheating on you. He called me. He wanted sex and I wanted to give it to him. Anything that’s going on between the two of you is not my business.”
“Yeah, I know,” He acknowledged with a wry grimace. “What’s between us isn’t your business but what’s between you two is mine.”
“Yeah,” Se7en said with a curt nod. “I saw his face. You hit him.”
“I got angry. He’s lucky all I did was punch him,” Bi replied, shrugging as he tossed the apple core into the trash and wiped his hands on a kitchen towel. “He’s a fucking tease, dongsaeng, and if you’re the one he’s been whoring to forget, then I’ve got to wonder if you’ve ever gotten your dick past the edge of his hole.”
Se7en’s temper flared and he was around the counter before he realized it. Bi’s hands were up, shoulders ready for the attack and the younger man forced himself to slow down to a stop. Taking a deep breath, Se7en tried to calm himself but the fiery rush in his belly refused to be tampered down.
“Did I piss you off? Maybe he only puts out for those pussies he sings with. Is that it?” Bi tilted an eyebrow up, mocking the younger man. “Have you ever fucked him because I can tell you, I haven’t. He gets me hot and then pulls away. I’d had enough of it. Or rather, I didn’t get enough of it. He keeps offering me his ass and then saying no when I’m about to take it so yeah, I punched him. It was either that or just fucking take what I wanted. Next time, it’s not going to be my hand hitting that asshole. It’s going to be my dick.”
“Fucking son of a bitch,” Se7en growled.
Se7en heard his hand crunch when he slammed his fist into Bi’s mouth. The other man’s teeth cut the skin on his knuckles, shooting pain up his arm and into his shoulder. His elbow creaked and as he spun on his heel to cut his other fist into Bi’s chin, he was blocked when Rain’s hand came up to shove him back.
“Fuck,” The older man said, spitting blood into the sink. “One. You get one and that’s it.”
His push had been hard enough to put distance between him and Se7en. The younger singer took a few steps away then recovered, heading back into the fight but Rain was ready for him. He ducked his shoulder, pushing his upper arm into the soft of Se7en’s diaphragm and shoved up, taking the air out of Se7en’s lungs.
A well placed knee into Bi’s groin staggered the older man back and he gasped, sickened by the blow to his genitals. An elbow to the back of Bi’s head brought him down and the bulkier man fell, dropping to his knees. Gasping, Bi spat again, struggling for air. The gut-wrenching sickness of his sac being shoved up into his stomach made it impossible to breathe and with Se7en looming over him, he was vulnerable for another blow.
Grabbing Bi’s shirt, Se7en yanked the other man’s chest up so he could look Bi in the eye. Defiant, the older man swiped at Se7en’s legs with a haphazard punch. The hit was ineffectual, landing awkwardly near Se7en’s ankle.
“If he ever calls you again, you’re not going to answer.” Se7en leaned over to growl in Bi’s ear. “If you see him at a party, you’re not going to make eye contact. As far as you’re concerned, Shim Changmin is a ghost that you never met.”
“And if I don’t?” Bi snapped, rolling away from Se7en’s grasp. He landed on his back, gasping for air. His genitals were still throbbing and he spread his legs, hoping to ease some of the tingling pain coursing up and down his body.
“Then I’m coming back,” He said, his voice tight with anger. “And I’m bringing those so-called pussies with me. We’ll see how well you do then.”
Se7en opened the car door, reassured when he saw Changmin slouched and asleep in the passenger seat. His hand ached and when he bent his fingers, his knuckles were slow to respond. A cricking noise in his wrist alarmed him a bit but the satisfaction he felt in his gut as more than enough to make him whistle as he started up the car.
“What?” Min started, waking up just enough to blearily blink at his surroundings. “Where…”
“Go back to sleep, Minku,” Se7en said, patting the other man’s thigh and trying not to wince when a creaking pain curled his hand into a claw. “I’m taking you home now — my home— where you belong.”