Work Text:
The pill tasted bitter as it dissolved on his tongue, and pangs of sweetness seeped into his mouth, the taste reminding him of these industrial strawberry sirups that always made him want to throw up when he was a kid. A savour of sickly-sweet syrup hiding the powdery taste of pharmaceutically manufactured molecules made to fuck with his brain, sugar coating the itching in the crook of his elbow with a brief moment of relief.
Nam-gyu leaned his head back against the cold white wall and let out a deep breath as he swallowed the drug. His eyes travelled up to the large translucent piggybank, basking in the faint golden light pouring down from the ceiling and glimmering over their heads like Damocles’ sword and filled with bloodstained money. Money he needed. Money everybody in here needed. Something about the way the plastic pig floated up there under the ceiling made him queasy, wanting to crawl out of his skin. It taunted all of them, grinning down at them knowing damn well what it did to their brains.
The Dormitory was almost dead silent except for the quaint rustling of sheets and creaking of the bunk beds as people shifted on their mattress and the silent buzzing of the security cameras, watching their every movement even while sleeping. That and the presence of the Pink Guys just outside the doors, Nam-gyu could almost describe it as peaceful, the way everyone had just succumbed to exhaustion and collapsed in their beds, a rare moment of community where everyone only wanted one thing all for themselves. Still, he could not shake the thought of what might await them tomorrow, what kind of new game they’ll have to endure. He could still taste the fresh blood on the sandy floor, hear the detonations of the gunshots explode in his ears, see the puddles of blood staining the rainbow track, and only thinking about it made him gag in revulsion. His heart had pounded against his chest like that of a cornered rabbit knowing damn well its hour had come and preparing itself for the killing blow that never came, before Thanos gave him a pill. The moment after they won had felt so exhilarating and liberating, they had reached heights he’d never experienced during his trips.
Unfortunately, the excitement had died down just as quickly as the elation had built up, and the cold shower of reality came down on his head brutally and burning his skin as the realization of his near-death experience settled in his bones. It wasn’t pleasant, way worse than just the effects of drugs evaporating. He’d seen people get shot in front of him, got his white sneakers stained with blood and just barely escaped being stuffed in one of these black boxes with their horrifying sugary pink ribbons.
That’s when he’d asked Thanos for another pill after he’d crawled down onto his bed as the light went out. The images were becoming too insistent, and the thought of his playmate’s purple strands of hair stained with blood and blown out brains peaking out of one of these giftboxes made him sick to his core. He had ached for relief, ached for the sweet release of the drugs.
Thanos didn’t give his precious goods up that easily though, and he had to beg and pout and blink at him with the sweetest doe eyes he could muster until he finally gave in and opened his cross with a wicked, knowing grin.
And now there he was, sitting next to the rapper in his bed, getting high and trashing his brain instead of trying to find some sleep. He knew he couldn’t, so why bother trying?
He sighed and threaded his fingers through his hair, pulling black strands back from his forehead, wondering if these might be the last hours of his life, if he might die tomorrow playing some stupid fucking kid’s game. Or if he’ll manage to survive and get out of this hellhole with a fuck ton of money, he could use to pay off his debts, buy drugs and maybe even get a new tattoo.
Yeah, he’d like a new tattoo. A snake winding itself around his forearm or maybe something on his neck.
Next to him, Thanos shifted on the bed. His bed. The bed Nam-gyu invaded to get a taste of his drugs and loose himself. The rappers’ legs were sprawled out in front of him, his head hanging lumpenly down, chin on his chest and eyes wide open, contemplating the meaning of something probably, or not thinking at all. That was more like him. The dim light shining down from underneath the bed above them casted purple blue shadows on his face, carving out the hollow of his cheeks and colouring his skin with a sickly hue, yet also weaving threads of gold into his purple strands. There was a small, pale scar on his chin, a little cut Nam-gyu had never noticed, and he suddenly realized through his foggy brain how close he was to Thanos. He could see each imperfection on his skin, the bags under his sore eyes, their arms were pressed against each other, and Nam-gyu could feel the rapper’s soft warmth spreading out from underneath the teal blue cloth of his tracksuit. He could even make out the faint scent of cement, weed and wet grass clinging to his skin.
It felt dizzying, intoxicating.
Fuck.
He was intoxicated.
He turned away, felt his cheeks heat up and stared down at his hands. They were always slightly shaking since he got here. Deprivation, he knew it. He’s never been in denial about his addiction. Despite the drugs Thanos provided him with, not being able to have heroin flowing through his veins drove him crazy. The bruises spreading over the crook of his elbow like flowers amongst the ink butterflies tattooed on his skin constantly itched and gnawed at him, yearning for the sweet sting of a needle. Thanos’ drugs were helpful, sure, but not enough to quench his thirst. Never enough.
He brushed over the bruises, his mind diluting as the pill started to seep into his blood. Even if it couldn’t completely shut down his body’s yearning for his favourite drug, he couldn’t deny how hard it hit. The mattress underneath him felt as soft and woolly as these clouds you’d always see in stupid Saturday morning cartoons, and the air now smelled of cotton candy instead of sweat and fear and linoleum. His raging thoughts morphed into something quaint, soothing almost, pliable and malleable like dush. Suddenly, he hadn’t just barely escaped death, he did have fun with newfound friends. And a snake faced bitch and a little puppy twit. Suddenly, tomorrow wasn’t another day of gambling away his life for a handful of money, but rather a new day of mischief and an ever-growing pile of Wons. Whatever looming danger might’ve existed evaporated and was replaced with blissful carefreeness.
His heartbeat had also slowed down, lazily pumping blood through his veins for the hell of it because it had to.
It felt heavenly. Like dissolving in sugar.
Funnily enough, were the drug had made him all excited and filled him with energy during the game, the effects washing over him now felt completely different, almost as if the drug adapted itself to the situation. Weird as fuck.
He blinked and turned towards Thanos, who was staring at the ceiling, slowly bopping his head to some imaginary beat and mumbling under hushed breath. As he noticed Nam-gyus gaze lingering on him, he turned around, his earrings glistening.
“You high, man?”, he asked, grinning widely, all white teeth and mischief.
“No shit.”, Nam-gyu answered, making Thanos chuckle.
“Told you shit goes hard.”, he said and ruffled up his hair.
“I can handle it.”, Nam-gyu muttered and closed his eyes. They were burning, as if he had fever, and his tongue was swollen.
Thanos let out an amused hum and crossed his arms behind his head, stretching like a cat, his back arching and bones cracking audibly. As he did, Nam-gyu couldn’t help but stare at the little patch of pink skin showing up underneath the rapper’s tracksuit. His belly button peaked out, and fuck if his skin didn’t look smooth, he’d be lying. He could even just barely make out the faint outline of his subtly defined abs, and the small bump of his pelvic bone. If he reached out just a bit, he could brush over it, and it would feel so warm and soft he could sink his teeth in.
The fuck was wrong with him.
He tore his gaze away, combed his fingers through his hair and deeply inhaled the stale air of the Dormitory to cleanse his drug corrupted thoughts or rather attempting it. His mind was fucking clouded with thick haze, he couldn’t think straight, it made him stump and stupid. Why else would he want to touch the bare skin of his playmate, another man on top of that? Only perverts and sickos did that. That’s what his mom always told him as she knocked some sense into him at least.
He rubbed his knuckles against his tired eyes.
“I wonder what they’re going to make us play tomorrow.”, he mumbled, more to himself than anything else.
But of course, he would feel the need to intervene.
“Bet it’s going to be something really easy.”, Thanos said and smiled stupidly.
“Yeah, well don’t push your luck, man. We gotta stay focused. If we get too cocky, we might end up in those boxes.”, Nam-gyu pointed out, shifting on the mattress.
Thanos let out an incomprehensible sound, somewhere in between a bark and a moan and Nam-gyu prayed no one could hear them. But who as he kidding.
“Stop worrying Nam-su, don’t fucking spoil all the fun, yeah? Thanos team will destroy everything and everyone.”
At that, the rapper threw an arm around his shoulders and pressed him flush against him with so much strength Nam-gyu gasped for air as he lost balance and almost fell into his lap. He wrestled out of his grip, loosened his arm around his neck and pushed Thanos back.
“Get the fuck away from me.”, he hissed but Thanos only laughed, way too loudly given all the people sleeping around them.
Thanos Team. What a ridiculous name, for an even more ridiculous group. He thought about that one bitch Thanos had insisted on joining their group. Her and that little whiny puppy, Min-su, they really got on his nerves. Mn-su at least was agreeable and fairly easy to handle. Give him a firm slap on the back and a look a little too intense and he’d cower and do whatever you asked of him. He was a good little pup, probably used to situations like these given his baby face and nervus pout, Nam-gyu could swear he’s been bullied before. Just as he once was before he became smarter and moved on the other side of fists being thrown. But the girl, she was insufferable. Her gaze was too defiant, too arrogant, the way she always lifted her chin while talking to them and the irritating tone of her voice made him want to slap her, to rip that lip piercing out and make her bled. She was too pretty, and he hated the way Thanos looked at her and jumped around her spitting his lame bars.
“Ayo Nam-su.”
Nam-gyu sighed.
“Nam-gyu.”, he corrected Thanos knowing damn well it didn’t matter. The rapper’s brain was so fucking destroyed with drugs Nam-gyu was pretty sure he forgot his own name. Or he just wanted to tease and get a raise out of him and did it on purpose. It would not be the first time he got mocked by brainless bullies, although he couldn’t deny that Thanos was different from those he’d known. He couldn’t really put a finger on it, but there was something so pure in his expression sometimes, in the way his eyes lit up whenever he talked to him or Min-su or Gyeong-su and the way his hugs felt genuine in how close he pulled him and the others in. More often than no he looked like these little puppies with big, wet eyes staring up at you in excitement, and his energy would hit you like an explosion of neon-coloured rainbows and sparkles, as if, underneath all that hair dye and the tattoos and half-baked raps, there was still a little boy whose wounds never really healed.
Still, Nam-gyu was pretty sure the bastard misspelled his name on purpose.
And there it was again, the cheeky grin he always wore, making his big brown eyes twinkle in the faint, golden light, as if he wanted to prove Nam-gyus point.
Thanos reached out towards him, and before Nam-gyu could lean back, his hand brushed over Nam-gyus own, his calloused fingertips ending electric shivers down his lethargic body, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. The rapper’s hand exuded a warmth Nam-gyu felt like he could drown in.
Thanos grabbed Nam-gyus hand, held it up to his squinted eyes and began studying them meticulously, scrutinizing his hand like it was a piece of art he tried to capture all the details of.
“What-What the fuck are you doing?”, Nam-gyu asked, knitting his brows together in confusion, trying to ignore how his heart picked up pace and his breath hitched as the rapper brushed his neon green painted thumb across the back of his hand with surprising tenderness.
“Dude.”, Thanos said, dead serious. “I think you’re not real.”
“What the fuck?”, Nam-gyu snatched his hand back, but Thanos was quick, grabbing his wrist and tugging his hand back again.
“No wait, seriously. Look at you. See these fingers?”, he asked, holding them out to him, spreading them with his own.
Fuck, what was he doing? Nam-gyu tried to speak, tried to protest and wring out of his grip, but his body didn’t obey, wasn’t his to command anymore. Something was caught in his throat, a lump the size of a clenched fist making it impossible to swallow, and his tongue was swollen and useless. His heart thumped so hard against his chest he thought it might burst.
All he could look at was the way Thanos’ long fingers were glued to his own, how his skin tingled were he had touched him.
How could he form a coherent thought when his brain was completely gone with drugs and drunk on the feeling of Thans’ rough fingertips closing around his hand?
He wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Not for this jackass, and even less for a man.
“What- “, he stuttered but Thanos cut him off.
“Like… what. How are you real? You’re not.”, Thanos said plainly, as if it was the most obvious of platitudes.
“The fuck- “
“No but for real dude, your fingers are so prettyyyyyyy.”, Thanos whined drunkenly and pressed his cheek to Nam-gyus hand, making him flinch as he felt how hot the skin was underneath his palm.” Prettier than the prettiest fingers of the prettiest of pretty girls.”
He leaned in, eyes hooded and pupils blown out, so close that Nam-gyu felt his breath fanning across his cheeks. He knew he should lean back, knew he should push him away, but his body was frozen in place. Thanos was so warm, so fucking warm against his hand, and he could feel the sharpness of his cheekbones underneath his hand and the almost juvenile like softness of his skin underneath his fingertips and oh God-
Fuck.
He bit down hard on his lip, trying to tear himself from his trance, painfully swallowed whatever was obstructing his throat, freed his hand from Thanos grip a little too violently and pushed him back.
“Stop it, you’re high, man.”, he said but his voice was shaking as he tried to keep quiet so as not to wake up players around them.
Thanos looked at him curiously, head tilted like a bird, before he casually ran a hand through his purple hair and smiled as he leaned back against his bed’s metal framing all nonchalantly.
“Am I wrong though?”
Nam-gyu shot him a cold stare, almost as burning as the blood rushing to his cheeks.
“I’m not a girl, Thanos.”, he muttered sinisterly.
“No, you aren’t.”, the rapper said with an unusual calmness to his voice, a tone Nam-gyu did not want to think too much about.
As if he could.
He bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted the metallic pang of blood on his tongue, his drugged-up brain faintly taking notice of the broken flesh.
Silence filled the air between them, thick and palpable, but Nam-gyus mind, despite the drugs, was roaring and all he wished for was for it to stop.
“You’re stupid, you know that?”, he whispered towards Thanos who had closed his eyes.
There was that damn smile again. “Not as much as you are, my man.”, he mused.
Nam-gyu smacked Thanos’ knee and he brushed it off with a quiet laugh that sounded like a bark and made his heart ache he did not want to question, giving himself up to the sweet intoxication flowing through his veins instead.
The same old soundscape filled the Dormitory. Ruffling of sheets, the occasional shifting of a mattress or hoarse cough of a player, Thanos’ imperceptible and incoherent bars, and the sound of Nam-gyus own blood rushing through his ears. Minutes passed, maybe hours, he didn’t know. Time bared no meaning in here.
Fuck. Nam-gyu released a long, strained breath. A warm, dizzying tickle spread through his whole body, prickling over his skin like fresh summer rain and relaxing his muscles. It felt as though his flesh was melting like sugar in a pan, diluting and dissolving in the heat, melting away in an abstract painting of teal, white, black and sickly taint of skin. The Dormitory lit up in splotches of colour, swirls of fractal shapes filling his vision. Fuck his brain really was mesh right now. He loved it. It felt so very wrong yet so very right.
But as he surrendered himself more and more to the blissful nothingness, the world around him slowly began to turn and morph into something uncannily abnormal, even for a trip. The bed’s metal structure folded and melted into an amalgamation of lines and swirling shapes dimly lit by that same faint, holy golden light and Nam-gyu felt sick to his stomach, brutally snapping back to consciousness. Fuck. His chest hurt, something constricting there underneath his ribs and his breath quickened with every passing minute as sweat ran down his forehead, but despite his erratic breathing he felt like choking.
“Fuck”, he gritted through his teeth with a hoarse voice, and leaned down forward, planting his hands onto the hard mattress.
His throat was burning with acid and his head aching as if he was just hit with an iron bar. Sharp cramps rippled through his abdomen, and his pulse went from a tranquil brook to an erratic flood of blood against his arteria. Fuck, focus, he had to focus. Focus on the air entering his lungs, focus on slowing down his heart. He could not overdose, not right now and most definitely not here. He was ok, he was doing ok, and he was handling this. He could, right? He took these pills before, why was this happening right now? Fuck he wished he’d just taken heroin. His mind was slipping away, dripping from his fingers as he desperately tried to stay conscious.
Focus, just fucking focus-
Suddenly, something warm landed on his back, pressing down on him gently but firmly, and Nam-gyu scrambled to clutch onto that sensation not to fall into the void., holding on for dear life. He struggled to catch his breath. Through his brain’s thick haze and the rush of his blood in his ears and obscuring his vision, he caught a glimpse of purple hair, and the rough sound of Thanos’ deep voice made hit’s way to his roaring ears.
“Breathe, my boy.”, he said and brushed his hand against Nam-gyus shoulder blades. “Slowly. Breathe.”
As if he did not try before. But Nam-gyu took in another deep breath, trying to get enough oxygen into his lungs and up to his brain, shaking, exhaling, inhaling, and the Dormitory’s cold air stung his burning throat.
“That’s it, in and out, brother.”
The rapper put his other hand against Nam-gyus chest, right above his rushing heart, and supported his weight as Nam-gyu hunched over, his forehead pressing into the mattress and tried his very best not to vomit his guts. Fucking hell, his heart was going to explode at this rate.
He gagged like a pathetic whore, acid filling his mouth and burning his tongue, and even though he struggled to think straight through the nausea, the only coherent thought he could grasp was how fucking embarrassing it was to be in this position in front of Thanos. He’d see him as a wretched little weakling-
“Stay with me, Nam-su.”
The rappers voice, although Nam-gyu hated to admit it, steadied him. He held onto his words, to the deep and rich rumbling of his voice against his ears. He sounded like warm honey, did he not? Like molten chocolate or some shit like that. His blood was rushing through his ears, his skin burning where Thanos touched him, rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder with his thumb, his mind alive with colourful sensations.
Fuck, even now the drug made him fucking stupid.
He breathed slowly, steadily, and fucking finally his heart stopped preparing itself for implosion and the pain constricting his chest faded away, the weight lifted, now only leaving Thanos’ hand there and it’s lulling and comforting warmth. The haze cleared, although only partially, of course. A bad trip never ended easily nor quickly.
He stemmed his hands against his thighs and slowly pushed himself up, his head spinning like the spinning tops they used during Paengi chigi. As he sat up, a fulgurant pain broke down on his head and he winced as an insistent, painful hammering began to thump against his skull. He put a trembling hand to his forehead.
“Shiiiit.”, he gritted out as Thanos helped him leaning back against the brick wall behind him.
As Nam-gyus head hit the cold wall, he let out a pained groan. Fuck, it hurt. As if his skull was about to explode.
“You fucking scared me man.”, Thanos pouted in a childish tone and kneeled in front of him, putting his hands on Nam-gyus shoulders and leaning in, way too close for Nam-gyus liking. “Don’t do that again, ok?”
Nam-gyu closed his eyes, groaned and bit his tongue, swallowing down whatever curse was crawling up his throat. He wasn’t sure he had the energy for an argument with Thanos right now. The rapper scanned his pained face with attentive doe eyes, his brown eyes looking for any sign of greater discomfort, and Nam-gyu felt his warm breath fanning over his cheeks. He flinched as Thanos brushed his thumb over his upper lip and was ready to throw hands despite his drumming headache before he saw dark red blood staining the rappers’ knuckles. Nam-gyu furrowed his brows and wiped across his nose. Little drops of ruby scattered his hand, and as he licked his lips, he tasted metal. He let out a long breath and closed his eyes, his muscles relaxing. He slumped against the wall with a pained moan.
The mattress’ weight shifted as Thanos leaned back.
“Told you shit is heavy, and you stupid junkie couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”, he said.
“Shut the fuck up.”, Nam-gyu groaned as he tried to adjust his ragged breathing to minimize the hammering migraine from hurting more.
“Should’ve listened to Thanos, man.”, the rapper said, already recovered from what happened, and Nam-gyu swore he could hear the smirk in his voice. “This stuff is nothing for pussies.”
He wanted to hit him so bad.
The minutes passed and the pain stayed, of course it did, accompanied by the lingering urge of vomiting his guts out, but it never came, leaving him feeling sick to his stomach instead, and Nam-gyu found himself wishing for the sweet bliss of heroin again, something he could handle and knew and longed for. A safe option of escaping reality.
“Wait and see, next time you come to my Club I’ll give you some real bad shit.” He muttered, his chest heaving slowly.
“Not cool man.”, Thanos said absentmindedly. “I warned you. You were just too retarded to listen. Or maybe too deprived, junkie.”
“Says who?”, Nam-gyu snapped back, wincing as another sting of pain bore itself into his skull.
“You’re a real meano, you know that Nam-su?”, the rapper said.
Nam-gyu scoffed and stared at the piggybank. Even just the dim light hurt his eyes.
“Maybe I’ll stop once you get my name right.”
At that, Thanos snorted, and silence returned, settling in between them.
Time passed, Nam-gyus head hurt, his stomach hurt, everything hurt, but his heart had calmed down, at least. He was floating, his limbs light as a feather, and a weird kind of light-headedness invaded his brain, but not unpleasant. The silence felt quaint, intimate almost. Thanos had leaned against him at some point, pressing against him like a cat, lost in his own trance, and Nam-gyu did not have the strength – nor will- to push him away. Their limbs had merged into one single, tangled mess of a being. Nam-gyu felt Thanos’ arm hook around his own, his head lying heavily on his shoulder, his hand casually spreading its warmth through the cloth of his sweatpants on his thigh, and his legs The rapper’s weight on him felt comforting, and he knew it shouldn’t, but he could not ignore the way his body had instantly melted against his.
He told himself it was the drug. The drug always served as an incredible excuse for everything. Cheated on his girlfriend? The drugs. Forgot to do his job? Drugs. Got a new tattoo? Drugs. Spent all his money? Drugs. Let his friend lean on him like a dog? Drugs.
Thanos let out a deep sound, akin to a purr, the sound reverberating through Nam-gyus body and he could fall asleep right here and now. But something gnawed at his diluted thoughts, memories of nights he barely went through alive, flashes of neon lights and loud, distant music as his vision blurred into nothingness, hospital beds, the taste of his own vomit, drunk and high and his brain so far gone he couldn’t tell who he was, and the stinking self-deprecation and hatred creeping up to him every next morning, spent wishing he had the guts to just take the knife instead of needles. And for some reason, he urged to share it with Thanos.
“Hey, Thanos.”
His voice a mere whisper.
“Hm?”
The hoarse hum he let out made Nam-gyus heart skip a beat.
The rapper lifted his head, looked at him, pupils blown out wide, a small pout on his lips. He looked like a little puppy, with his dyed hair all dishevelled and his head tilted, waiting for him to carry on.
Cute.
It never occurred to Nam-gyu how beautiful he actually was. With his big doe eyes, his sharp cheekbones that could cut through skin, his plump lips and the almost elegant arch of his eyebrows and the pretty bridge of his nose. The rich, purple hue of his stupidly spikey hair was hypnotizing, the way the faint light reflected on his strands.
What did he want to say again? God, he hated this jerk’s brown eyes so much. It was so easy to just loose himself in them, in their depth and warmth. Fucking focus. He stared at Thanos’ chapped lips and hooded eyes, his mouth ajar, before shaking his head a little, strands of black falling into his eyes as he turned away. Blood rushed up to his cheeks, feeling warm and prickling underneath his pale skin, and he did not want Thanos to see that. He had already embarrassed himself enough.
“Have you…”, he trailed off, pondering his words. “Have you ever had an overdose?”
Thanos looked at him, brows lifted, as if Nam-gyu had just asked the most stupid question he’s ever heard.
“What do you think?”, he said, raising his eyebrows almost mockingly.
Nam-gyu smiled, amused, annoyed, maybe both. Thanos smiled back, scoffing a little, his shoulders shaking against Nam-gyus body.
“Of course I did. I don’t remember much though, but I know I almost died several times.”, he continued with a raspy voice, chuckling.
“Waking up in hospital beds?”, Nam-gyu asked.
Thanos laughed. Not his usual barks or excited shouts, but a soft exhale that sent a pleasant shiver down Nam-gyus spine.
“Yeah.”, he said, smirking, absent mindedly playing with his fingers. “Doctors and shit. The smell there is so fucking suffocating.”
Nam-gyu smiled and could smell the stale hospital air filled with the burning scent of disinfectant, latex gloves and sterilized plastic.
“And then all their berating. ‘This should serve as a lesson, son, pick yourself up by the bootstraps, get back on the right track’”, Thanos’ voice melded into a patronizing, elderly tone his face contorting into an exaggerated, arrogant expression, readjusting imaginary glasses on his nose bridge.
Nam-gyu had to hold in his laughter so as not to be too loud.
“Fucking hate it when they do that.”, he said.
Nam-gyus gaze wandered down to his shaky hands. His palms were damp with sweat. He brushed his fingers over his knuckles, whipped the blood droplets away and bit his lower lip, feeling how dry and chapped it was.
“Have you ever regretted it the next day? Like…”, he paused. “Just wished you’d never done it?”
Thanos exhaled sharply and shifted on the mattress, lifting his weight off Nam-gyu, detangling his long legs from his. The loss of warmth came crashing down instantly, and Nam-gyu had to hold back not to close his arms around Thanos’ chest and pull him back in.
The rapper stared into the void silently, before turning his head back to Nam-gyu, his drugged-up eyes wide open.
“Not really, no.”, he finally said. “I prefer that.”
“To what?”, Nam-gyu asked.
Suddenly, Thanos’ face shifted in the darkness. Shifted in a way Nam-gyu did not like at all. His boyish expression faded, almost melted off his skin, and he suddenly looked so much older, tired and worn out, his eyes lost in some dark corner of his mind he usually avoided, seeming uneasily empty and absent. His hand travelled up to his neck, rubbing along the skin and automatically tracing down the tattooed line under his ear, before falling back down, slipping under his sleeve and scratching at his forearm as if it had a mind of its own. He didn’t even seem to register how his hand had begun to fidget around, lingering in his thoughts.
Nam-gyu did not dare to press him. Something about the rapper’s sudden seriousness unnerved him, as if something was boiling under the surface of his skin and ready to burst if he reached out and touched him.
Above them, sheets rustled.
Nam-gyu pressed his thin lips together as he held his breath, waiting for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear anymore.
“You know, you do not need to- “, he slowly began, but Thanos cut him off.
“Wanting to jump off a bridge, you know?”, he said, voice raspy and hoarse.
He looked up, eyes wide, like he was surprised at the words leaving his mouth, but they were there now, hanging in the quiet air between them, shivering and lonely and desperate to finally being heard.
Nam-gyu just stared at Thanos, processing his words. Remembering, somewhere deep underneath all the sticky goo the drug had coated his brain in, the corrosive thoughts poisoning his mind, the whispered atrocities in a voice stained in sweet honey, promising freedom and relief. A feeling he was acquainted with. Too much, too familiar. How often did he look at the Han River wondering if it’d hurt, wishing he could just drown whatever was nagging at his heart, whatever problems were festering on his brain.
Of course, there were reasons why Thanos ended up like this. Reasons he’d trashed his brain with drugs and became who he was. Had he ever noticed the latent sadness swimming in his eyes? He’d assumed he’d figured him out from the get-go, a simple, basic puzzle, but it dawned on him that there might be more underneath the purple dye and painted fingernails than just a stupid, lost little child. Of course there was. And that he might be able to relate to him more than he’d like.
“The man, the guy in the suit, he came to me…”, Thanos trailed off, his tongue loosened. “I was about to do just that, you know? But then he offered me money and I got the bucks and then he gave me this card. I don’t know, it felt like a fresh start. Like another chance.”
He shot Nam-gyu a glance, craning his neck. What was he supposed to say to that? What could he say? There was nothing appropriate to say.
“Wasn’t like I could turn him down anyways.”, the rapper continued, the dim light faintly highlighting the sharp contour of his face as he turned around.
“Did you… were you about to…”, Nam-gyu began, but the words caught in his throat.
“Yeah.”, Thanos said plainly. “That bastard was so fucking good at Ddaekji. My cheeks still hurt from his slaps. Fuck, he was strong. But I still won several times, of course.”
He grinned, his white teeth shining in the dim light, but the smile did not reach his eyes, nor did it feel right. It felt wrong to see him like this, to hear him speak in that irritating tone he’d always used before, just like it felt weird to go to an amusement park and see the mascots after knowing there are real humans sweating their asses off underneath the whimsical costumes. Or knowing what a night club looked like during daytime, completely empty, devoid of people, sterile and cold without all the neon lights and confetti and music blasting through speakers.
Nam-gyu couldn’t bring himself to smile back, studying Thanos’ face instead, his chest stinging. Why did it make him so fucking sad? Was he about to cry? He barely knew the guy. Sure, he’d briefly seen him at Pentagon, but he’d never truly spoken to him, and yet his insides burned to wash the soot and dirt and mud and sorrow off his body, to scrub and scrub until there was only sunkissed skin left, longed to cut whoever and whatever was hurting him up into pieces and feed them to the dogs. He wanted to break through his shell of stupidity open, to crack his sugarcoat of drugs open and rummage around in all the nasty shit underneath until he found a pearl. He wanted to uncover all his secrets and know where moles hid on his body.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck. What the fuck was happening.
He shouldn’t have begged for another pill. All this bullshit was on him.
“Yeah, he was quite strong. He doesn’t look like it, but he can throw punches.”, was all he could bring out, his voice shaking with the weight of everything he could not say, not through the drug haze and not now and not never.
“He was a bastard but at least he got me in here. I wouldn’t have met you, my brother.”, Thanos’ said, throwing his arm around Nam-gyus shoulders, back to his old self, every trace of turmoil and unrest had vanished as quickly as it had shone through the cracks.
Oh, he hated how his heart fluttered at his words, how his body reacted to his touch, eager and needy like a touch starved dog. He could feel himself growing hot by every passing minute, accompanied by a dreadful sense of panic. A tingling deep down his guts, warning lights flashing blinding red across his brain.
His gaze wandered to Thanos’ chapped lips, obscured by the darkness. There was something wrong with him, seriously wrong. But somehow, knowing that did not stop the words from slipping out.
“Can I kiss you?”
Hushed, barely a whisper. The words came out secretive but tremoring with barely contained intensity, and his voice cracked, sheepish and apprehensive. A soft sigh, a trembling hand reached out to brush over the desired skin.
Thanos’ head snapped back to him, staring, stunned, dumbfounded.
Silence stretched out between them, strident and yet so very quiet, way to quiet, so quiet in fact that Nam-gyu could hear his own heartbeat, thumping loudly against his chest.
He said it. The drug had loosened his tongue, yet he knew it wasn’t just the pill. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t because of the drug at all. It had just shone a light on something he’d rather ignored. Made a way through all the walls and iron doors he’d established in his brain and retrieved whatever he hid from his own thoughts.
And now he regretted it. His palms sweaty and body shivering as he waited, holding his breath, for Thanos’ reaction.
But the rapper did not move, instead just staring at him with these fucking puppy eyes, boring into his very soul, scrutinizing it and ripping him straight open, and Nam-gyu felt exposed. A small, surprised pout began to form on the rapper’s lips and Nam-gyu felt his heart tighten. The air between them was damp, and Thanos’ breath fanned across his cheeks.
What a fucking idiot he was. Stupid. Pathetic.
He turned away, but before he could shrink into himself and want to disappear, a quiet croak made him snap back, strands of black hair falling into his eyes.
“Yes.”, Thanos breathed out.
His eyes were glued to his as Nam-gyu turned around, kneeling in front of him, carefully studying his face, and he did not discern any sign of discomfort in them, only a faint twitch of muscles underneath his cheeks, as if the blood underneath overflowed with nervous trepidation. As if he had been waiting for this.
God he could die right here and now, and it wouldn’t matter.
He extended a trembling hand, reaching out towards Thanos, who did not back away, frozen in place, awaiting him. The skin beneath his fingertips was soft as Nam-gyu brushed his thumb over his cheeks, and so fucking warm, like holding rays of gentle spring sun in his hand. The rapper leaned into his touch, closing his eyes, letting himself melt against Nam-gyus touch, closing his eyes, his long lashes kissing the darkened skin underneath his lids.
Fuck.
Nam-gyu stemmed himself onto the mattress and leaned forward, his whole body shaking, his mind screaming, roaring, begging for him to stop, but he was past any rational thought at this point. And he could not give less of a shit.
His lips hovered over Thanos’ for a fraction of seconds as he let out a shaky breath, bracing himself. He was so close, so godforsaken close he could see each and every little imperfection on the purple haired man’s face, even in the murky darkness of the Dormitory, every little scar and popped vein in his eyebags. His smell filled his lungs, reminiscent of crowded club nights, sweat and sugary vape flavours, weed and wet cement, a whole other kind of drug he could get addicted to and high on forever.
The moment their lips met, Nam-gyus mind went blank.
He kissed him, melting against his soft, plump lips like sugar in the sunlight. It was hesitant at first, tentative, almost tender as he moved against him, and he felt Thanos’ muscles relax beneath him, as if he was diluting.
The warmth, the taste of him, it was addicting, so much so that he didn’t care there was almost no air left in his lungs, driven by the irrational urge to devour him whole, but he pulled back, chest heaving, black hair falling into his eyes.
Thanos looked at him, all dazed and bewildered, and his cheeks were glowing in the barely lit room.
“Fuck.”, he whispered, wiping his hand across his mouth.
“Fuck.”, Nam-gyu repeated, his voice hoarse.
Thanos’ gaze fell onto his lips, an unusual hunger and almost pathetic longing written all over his flushed face, and right here and there, Nam-gyus stoned mind awoke, something snapped, throwing everything out to the wind and drowning worries and what little was left of his disgust towards himself, what he was thinking, doing, indulging himself with. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing did in here.
He cupped Thanos’ cheeks with both hands and crashed his lips against his again with a ferociousness he did not know he had, tearing a surprised muffled gasp from Thanos’ throat, a sweet sound rushing straight to Nam-gyu’s crotch, burning and tingling under his skin like electricity.
He felt the rapper’s hands snaking up to his collar, tugging at the cloth and pulling him in closer, making him groan faintly as he almost lost his balance and barely managed to catch himself on the mattress before falling onto Thanos.
The kisses he pressed against his lips were messy, so so messy and hot and open mouthed and desperate, as if they were the air he breathed, the nourishment he starved for, the salvation for whatever pain nested in his heart.
Hungry, so very hungry.
Nam-gyu pressed his flushed body against Thanos’, yearning for the closeness, for the heat of his skin, for the pressure of limbs against limbs, and felt Thanos arch into the contact, chasing the weight of Nam-gyu’s body on his.
He was drowning, drowning in the sweet sounds escaping Thanos’ throat, the muffled moans, the heat radiating through his tracksuit, the way his shaky hand traced all over his own body, tugging at the zipper of his jacket, squeezing his hips as Nam-gyu shifted onto his lap, never leaving his lips, drunk on their taste and how they responded to his every move.
As he pulled away just a few inches to catch his breath, Thanos gasped for air. Fuck, his lips were swollen. His cheeks gleaming red in the shadows of the bunk bed, and his hair dishevelled. Seeing him like this made Nam-gyu’s stomach churn. His hands rested on Thanos’ collarbones, fingers playing with the cold metal necklace holding his cross around his neck. His heart pounded against his chest like it was about to implode, sending new waves of pain hammering against his skull, but he barely even registered it, not with Thanos’ hard-on pressing against his thigh, not with his hot breath brushing over his skin, and definitely not with the way he looked up at him with his big, brown, pleading puppy eyes.
Nam-gyu smiled, snaking his hand up to Thanos’ throat, pressing just ever so slightly were his heartbeat pumped feverishly underneath his fingertips, tearing a hiss from the rapper’s lips.
“Nam-gyu.”, he whispered, his voice husky.
“Oh, so you do know my name.”, Nam-gyu said lowly, applying more pressure onto Thanos’ throat, making him shudder underneath him.
A tight-lipped moan resounded in the rapper’s chest. Of course, they would not want to wake anyone up, if they did not do it already, but his stoned mind did not give a single fuck at this point.
He leaned in, brushing his lips against Thanos’, their softness making his already half hard member throb painfully. Fucking hell.
He grabbed a handful of Thanos’ purple hair and pulled his head back ever so slightly, making him exhale sharply, perking his chin up, and kissed him again, starving. He tasted so fucking good, like a freshly rolled joint, late summer evenings and ink. But mostly, he tasted of sin, sweet, honeyed sin, and Nam-gyu could not get enough of it. He wanted to sin, wanted to get a bite out of the forbidden fruit. He wanted it. He needed it or he would go fucking insane.
Not as if Thanos made him go completely mad already.
He felt his tongue wiping across his lips and deepened the kiss, his blood rushing to his cock. Fuck his slacks began to be way to tight.
He pulled away, and Thanos let out a plaintive whine, like a little puppy.
Pathetic. Intoxicating. Driving him fucking nuts.
Nam-gyu cupped the rapper’s cheeks in both of his hands, forcing his drugged out, glossy eyes to meet his. He looked so fucking wasted, pupils blown out, lips puffy and cheeks reddened like a schoolgirl whom he might’ve slid a hand down her skirt.
He breathed out, his voice a mere raspy croak. “Please- “
“Shut up.”, Nam-gyu cut him off and began to press open mouthed kiss along his jawline, tracing down his neck, dragging his teeth against the delicate skin.
Thanos’ let out a sob, and Nam-gyu pressed his palm against the rapper’s mouth. Even though he could get drunk on the exquisite sounds he made, they couldn’t just right out scream through the dormitory. Instead, he’d have to content with the muffled moans he uttered against his hand, the sound rippling through his flesh and sending static electricity down his spine.
He bit, he sucked, he kissed the skin he’d tried not to look at for as long as he can remember seeing him in the Club, nibbled at it to leave purple marks blooming there next to the straight tattoo line up his throat like some bloody flowers.
His free hand tugged at the zipper of Thanos’ jacket, opening it, and slipped underneath his shirt, the hot, flushed skin burning against his icy cold fingers, making Thanos jolt underneath his touch. And just as expected, the flesh there was so painfully soft, so very delicate. Nam-gyu traced over his faintly defined muscles, snaking his fingers up to his chest, pressing his hand against it just above were Thanos’ heartbeat like a caged bird. Just feeling this made him want to come right here and there, and he suppressed a groan.
“Fucking hell.”, he whispered against the nape of Thanos’ neck, voice strained.
The rapper nodded frantically, muffled moans resounding in the damp air as he grabbed onto Nam-gyu’s arm with both hands, boring his painted fingernails into his flesh like he was holding on for dear life.
Nam-gyu pulled back, sitting up straight, and lifted his hand from Thanos’ mouth, leaving the rapper gasping for air, his chest heaving.
“Fuck, Nam-gyu- “, he said as he raggedly breathed out.
“I know”, he mumbled.
He pulled down his jacket, the cold air of the Dormitory burning the hot, sweaty skin of his forearms, and slid a hand underneath the sleeve of Thanos’ tracksuit.
And then he froze.
As his fingers slid up his forearm, he felt small ridges underneath his calloused fingertips, rough patches of skin forming a pattern of small cuts all the way up the crook of Thanos’ elbow. Dread settled deep into his bones.
As Thanos registered Nam-gyu’s consternation, panic washed over his flushed face, and he sharply snapped his arm from underneath his hands, grasping it, pressing it to his chest like a child, turning away from Nam-gyu.
“No, wait.”, Nam-gyu said, extending his hand, making Thanos flinch.
“N-no, it’s okay- “, he stuttered and backed away like a wounded fawn.
But he did not pull away as Nam-gyu gently grabbed his wrist. He only watched him, stoned eyes filled with shame, as Nam-gyu almost tenderly pushed the sleeve back up to his elbow, exposing the multitude of pale scars aggregated on his forearm. There were more cuts covering it than sane skin, and some of them did not heal correctly, forming jagged lines.
It looked like a carving, an oddly beautiful one, mesmerizing shapes melting together in a work of pain. Nam-gyu traced his thumb over one little scar near Thanos’ wrist, and he knew, he just knew.
“Stop, man, I don’t- “ Thanos began, scrambling to hold on to his tough persona, but he cut him off.
“Don’t.”, he whispered and bent down.
As his lips touched the scarred skin, he heard Thanos sharply inhale.
He kissed each and every scar adorning the rapper’s arm, pressed his lips reverently against his torment’s silent marks, and slowly made his way up to his elbow, making sure not to leave even just one cut out. As he did, he could feel Thanos’ muscles relax underneath his touch, melting with each heavy breath he took, and his look burning his shoulders as he watched him earnestly. Lips on scarred skin, loving caresses over painful dips, unspoken words dissolving between them.
Nam-gyu took his hand, intertwined his fingers with Thanos’ and pressed a small kiss to his sharp cheekbones.
“Don’t hide.”, he whispered. “Not from me.”
“I don’t know- I don’t know why, I just- “, but he went silent, words escaping him.
“It’s ok. I won’t judge. I couldn’t.”, Nam-gyu said.
Fuck, was he going to cry? Thanos’ eyes sure did look watery, filled with tears he never spilled. Instead, he just pulled Nam-gyu close again, pressing his face into the nape of his neck, and Nam-gyu felt his hot breath dampening his skin, hugging him, tracing soothing circles on his back with his thumb. The moment felt intimate, too intimate for a drugged hookup with a friend. But he did not mind.
“What did you use?”, Nam-gyu asked, hushed.
A heartbeat of silence as Thanos exhaled, his grip on Nam-gyu tightening.
“Everything. Kitchen knives, scissors, razor blades. Needles sometimes.”, he answered.
His voice was raspy, shaky and coated with a way too sober tone that sent a shiver down Nam-gyu’s spine as he clung to his shoulders.
“Why do you ask?”, the rapper whispered. “Wanna make fun of me?”
Nam-gyu chuckled, burying his head into Thanos’ neck.
“Wouldn’t cross my mind.”, after a pause, he added “I just want to know.”
He couldn’t count the times he had stood in front of the mirror, trembling fingers clutching around a razor blade hovering over his veins, the times he stared at his reflection in the dirty glass, hating the cowardliness he saw there in his black eyes. The dried stains of tears on his hollow cheeks and the fear of committing. All he’d managed to do was scraping the palm of his hand as he clenched his fist around the blade before throwing it to the ground. Feeling even more miserable than before.
“You don’t think I’m weak?”, Thanos asked.
“No. No I don’t.”
Thanos’ hands snaked down his sides, long, slender fingers nestling on his waist, squeezing the skin underneath, and should Nam-gyu die right here on the spot, he would’ve perished happily, his mind alive with colourful sensations, senses heightened by the drug.
“Nam-gyu.”, Thanos muttered against the skin of his neck, sending a cool shiver down his spine, his voice a deep, low purr, dripping with anguish and emotion words could not hold.
God, he was high.
Floating, hovering, flying, drifting away on a cloud, entangled with him, his name spoken by Thanos resounding in his mind, his voice sounding like heaven itself.
He kissed him again, avid and yearning for closeness, and felt Thanos’ grip tighten around his waist. If only he could melt against him, to seep under his skin and live there, bathing in the warmth of his blood.
He felt Thanos hand in his hair, tugging at his black strands, tearing a groan from his throat.
There was an urgency to the rapper’s movements, a febrility animating his shaking fingers and trembling, slender body, shivering underneath Nam-gyu.
“I’m so fucking bombed, dude.”, Thanos said with a strained voice.
“You want to stop?”, Nam-gyu asked, fearing whatever answer the purple haired man could give him.
The ladder huffed, chuckling tipsily.
“Nah.”
“Good. Because me neither.”
Lips crashing against each other, teeth dragging across plump and swollen flesh, tongues tasting each other’s blood. Raw, untethered and unrestrained desire woven into an open-mouthed, dizzying kiss that made Nam-gyu’s head spin, the world spiraling around him.
He did not stop before leaving Thanos breathless again, whiny and gasping for air. His dark eyes searched his as Nam-gyu leaned back, pushing back strands of hair behind his ears, and slipped a hand down the rapper’s waist.
“What are you doing?”, he asked, a peculiar mix of panic and arousal twirling in his pupils.
Nam-gyu smirked, endeared by the pout on his lips, the nervous apprehension warping his usually so overly cocky and confident face. It was exhilarating, having him as flustered and embarrassed and vulnerable from his touch alone, when he normally behaved so arrogantly and brutishly. And somehow, Nam-gyu could not shake the feeling that this was his way of repaying the pretentiousness with which he had treated him over the past days.
“I thought I could take care of this.”, he whispered and brushed his palm against Thanos’ bulge, making the man bite down on his lip and hiss.
Oh fuck, he was hard. So damn hard Nam-gyu felt the rapper’s member pulsing against his hand through the teal-coloured cloth.
“Fuck.”, he gritted out under hushed breath.
He began tracing the outline of Thanos’ cock with his fingers and gasped feeling it’s warmth seep into his hand, his heart racing. Suddenly he was back to his 15-year-old self, nervously exploring the body’s crevasses of that one boy who’d always come by his mother’s store in the bathrooms of the school, sweaty and damp and filled with dread and lust. It had felt so foreign yet so right, but he never forgot the misery that had overcome him afterwards, all appetite lost as he poked around in his mother’s kimchi stew. She had pressed him about what happened to him, but he had remained silent, stoic as stone, feeling despisable and disgusted of himself, his desires and the way his heart had beat as the boy had touched and kissed him. He could already feel the burning sting of his mother’s hand against his cheek and hear her screeching in horror if she’d found out. That evening, he had wanted to disappear.
He thought he’d buried these memories deep enough inside the meanders of his brain, but apparently, making out with his teammate and being drugged out of his mind dug it up again. He cursed, sinking his teeth into the delicate skin of Thanos’ neck, making him jolt underneath him, the movement enough to rub just right against his own erection. Drowning these unwanted thoughts in the stinging pleasure it brought him.
He palmed Thanos through his sweatpants, drinking in the sweet sounds pouring out of the rapper’s mouth despite his best efforts to try and muffle them, biting down on his hand.
Everything was screaming for him to stop, pleading him to come to his senses through the purple haze of his intoxicated mind.
Thanos’ hand landed on his shoulder, digging his fingers deep into his flesh as he cupped his balls through his sweatpants, and the pain of his painted nails boring into his skin made another shot of blood rush down to Nam-gyu’s crotch.
Fuck rationality.
He slipped his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of Thanos’ slacks. The purple haired man chased his touch, his pelvis jerking towards where his hand brushed against his skin like a starved animal, a wounded dog looking for a loving embrace.
“Please, Nam-gyu…”, he brought out.
That made him smile.
“You’re so impatient.”, he answered with an amused purr, smirking as it made the rapper writhe and bite down his lip.
When he took a hold of his dick, Thanos threw his head back against the wall’s white bricks, a frail whimper escaping his throat, resounding like a cry in the stale silence of the Dormitory.
Fuck.
“Shut the fuck up.”, Nam-gyu breathed as he wrapped his hand around his cock and slowly began to stroke the hot skin.
Faint, lewd noises filled the cold air, paired with the muffled shuffle of the sheets as Thanos scrambled to keep his twitching legs still. Squelching noises, quickened breaths and strained, barely kept in whines, sounds all bringing Nam-gyu back to that one last day of school, his back pressed against the bathroom stall, breathing in the damp, suffocating air of the late summer afternoon, soft lips wrapped around his painfully hard cock and doe eyes looking up at him. The memory alone made him want to combust right here and there.
He lifted his gaze, his chest hurting, and watched intently as Thanos struggled to keep composure in the barely lit room, his face cast in shadows and contorted by pleasure. His tongue poked out, teeth bored into the soft flesh, and his eyebrows were twitching, as Nam-gyu pumped his shaft.
It was exhilarating, having him like this, stripped of all his condescendence and boast and irritating self-confidence, but also felt weird, so foreign.
As he stroked Thanos’ cock, the rapper’s jolting limbs rubbed against Nam-gyu’s groin, sending fiery waves of pleasure through his veins, but never enough to quench the hunger burning in his stomach.
Just like that, he shifted his hips on Thanos’ thigh ever so slightly, carefully rubbing his cock against the taut muscle, and the sting following made his eyes roll back. He suppressed a groan, swallowing it back down as he began rocking his hips against the rapper’s thigh, chasing relief, riding him like a pathetic little whore.
“Fuck- “, he stuttered.
Thanos moaned in response, bucking his pelvis towards his touch.
It was messy. Sloppy. Damp. Desperate.
They were two beaten dogs, looking for solace, wanting nothing more than to lose themselves in drugs and the heat of each other’s bruised bodies.
At this point, none of them cared to contain their sounds anymore. Tight lipped moans, whines, quickened breaths and cloth rubbing against cloth. Lips sloppily searching each other, swallowing groans and whimpers, hushed curses gritted out between tightened jaws.
“Nam-gyu”, Thanos groaned, frustration laced in his hoarse voice.
“Getting there.”, Nam-gyu responded breathlessly.
He quickened the pace of his hand around the rapper’s erect member, the slick sound of his thrusts making his stomach coil. His own hips moved faster against his thigh with a mind of their own, fucking himself against Thanos like a horny dog, but fuck if it didn’t feel like heaven. His cock throbbing angrily against his stomach, aching as he rubbed himself against the firm muscle, his ears blessed with Thanos’ weak and broken moans as his hand pumped him for all his worth, bathed in barely enough light to see each other’s faces, people around them tossing and turning in their beds.
Maybe they’ll die tomorrow. Maybe they’ll get stuffed in these neat little gift boxes, brains blown out and choking on their own blood. But right now, they were soaring.
“Fuuuck just like that, yes- “, Thanos wailed as his body shook with the waves of his approaching climax.
Nam-gyu too felt himself getting closer to his own release, but something in his stoned mind clicked.
He wanted more. He needed more.
With haste and shaky movements, he leaned back, releasing Thanos’ throbbing cock, tearing a plaintive whine from the rapper’s swollen lips.
“What, why’d you st-“, but Nam-gyu cut him off.
“Shut up.”
He shifted on Thanos’ hips, hands travelling to his metal cross, tugging at the necklace. His fingers trembled as he opened it and lifted it to his mouth, eyes glued to Thanos as his tongue darted out and fished out another pill, the tablet tasting bitter.
Thanos watched him, mouth agape, gaze burning with intensity as Nam-gyu handed him his cross, an almost insane grin gracing his lips. Carefully, he reached for another drug, never leaving Nam-gyu’s glare.
The way his tongue embraced the pale red pill made Nam-gyu moan.
Fuck overdose. Fuck caution.
He crashed his lips against Thanos’ again, digging his teeth into his lower lip before leaning down, hovering right above the rapper’s cock’s angry red tip.
“What are you doing-”, the purple haired man said, panicked as he realized what Nam-gyu had in mind, breath hitching as Nam-gyu sighed against the hot skin.
“Just enjoy it.”, he mumbled.
He wanted him. Wanted a taste so fucking bad.
He bent down, his skin tingling, heart racing, and dragged his tongue against Thanos’ cock, tearing a particularly loud, strangled moan from his partners lips. By whatever God might exist, Nam-gyu could bust in his pants like a teenager from the taste alone. But he wanted to make this last.
He wrapped his lips around the hard shaft, swallowing Thanos’ cock and slowly making his way down, the salty pang of his precum diluting on his tongue. He sucked him off with deliberate, slow strokes, swallowing him whole, milking broken whines, that made his own cock throb, from the rapper’s throat.
Suddenly, he felt something brushing over his erection, and his hips naturally chased the touch. He gasped, as much as he could gasp with a dick in his mouth, and a muffled moan escaped his throat and rippled through Thanos’ body as the purple haired man’s hand pulled down Nam-gyu’s sweatpants. He felt his cock spring out against his stomach, pulsing and aching to be touched, to be granted relief. And then there was Thanos’ hand, wrapping around his member almost tenderly. And this paired with the heady drunkenness of the drug made tears prick in his eyes, burning like acid, and he felt his skin shudder with electricity.
Fuck.
He sucked on his cock, his head bopping up ad down, trying not to succumb to the addicting sensation of Thanos’ long, slender fingers stroking his erection.
They truly were dogs, he thought to himself. Panting, chasing heights of pleasure like depraved madmen.
The drug had seeped into his system, shades of purple, violet, plum, accompanying each thrust of Thanos’ hand, each ripple of pleasure turning into a stormy tide of lavender and with how the substance meddled with his senses.
Fucking hell.
He gripped the sheets, desperately looking for a tether not to get swept away by the rush of the pill, nor the exaltation of the moment.
“Fuck, Nam-gyu –“, Thanos growled.
His voice poured over him like warm wine. Not just some cheap booze, no, something richer, deeper, more expensive. Worth all the trouble.
Yeah, fuck.
He sucked, tasted precum, choked on the rapper’s dick, groaned and moaned against wet skin as his own cock was being stroked. God did it feel good. Better than any girl he’d ever fucked, better than the prostitutes he’d pay when his drives became too urgent, better even than that boy back then.
It felt like dying.
Ecstatic.
“’M gonna cum, man, ‘m gonna cum-“, the rapper whined.
He felt Thanos’ cock twitch on his tongue but did not stop his ministrations. And then, Thanos threw his hand over his mouth, and, with a last, desperate rut of his hips, his release seeped into Nam-gyu’s mouth, hot and sweet, tasting of salt and earth as swallowed the cum eagerly, moaning and choking on it.
The taste of Thanos made him trip over the edge. He threw his head back, his muscles tightened as he violently fisted the sheets. His orgasm crashed over him with a tsunami’s violence, shaking his body, and the drug’s bliss melted together with his climax so deliciously, making him see stars, galaxies, black holes and imploding suns as the rapper pumped him through, his hands coated with his release.
Fucking hell.
He collapsed against his partners lanky body, going limp and trembling weakly. Thanos wrapped his arms around him, holding him close as he came down, their ragged breathing mixing, entangling in the cold air.
He could feel the rapper’s heart beat hard against his chest. The way his muscles relaxed underneath him as he seemed to drift somewhere far away, eyes fluttering.
Fuck.
He knew he was going to regret it, Nam-gyu knew it. The certainty gnawed at his insides, dreadful after the height. He’d feel the same old disgust and loathing in the pit of his stomach, the same will to disappear.
But for now, he basked in the bliss his orgasm and the drug provided him.
His consciousness was slipping with each passing minute, his limbs filled with a peaceful lethargy as quaint silence fell over both of them and Thanos’ steady breathing lulled him. But he could not fall asleep, not now, not lile this.
So he forced himself off of Thanos’ lap, collapsing next to him on the mattress, chest heaving, groaning.
“Fuck.”, he said with a raspy voice and leaned his head onto the wall behind him, the bricks burning with how cold they felt against his flushed skin.
“Mmmh.”, the rapper purred, seemingly already past any conscious state of being.
Nam-gyu’s tongue felt swollen, useless in his mouth, and his head began to hurt again, a hammering pain boring itself into his skull. He should focus on that, on the ache, instead of whatever his mind tried to communicate to him and that he definitely did not want to hear.
His cum had stained the sheets and his tracksuit. Thanos’ as well. And they had nothing to clean themselves up nor to wash their clothes.
And with how loud they were, there was no chance in hell they weren’t getting looks.
He trembled.
“Fuck.”
All he wanted was chicken back to his own bed, bury himself under the blankets and suffocate on his pillow. But there was another part of him aching to stay near Thanos, to feel his warmth, to feel his body press against him. He didn’t know why nor did he want to think about it, but it made him feel good. Safe.
“Su-bong.”
It was the first time he used his name to address him. Thanos snapped his head back, blinking at him with groggy eyes, confusion and afterglow shimmering in the faint golden light.
“Can I sleep here tonight?”