incomparable » changki

four

"Who was that?"

Changkyun didn't even have a chance to take his trainers off before Yungjae was pinning him against the wall, gripping the boy's small wrists in his larger hands, holding them up above Changkyun's head.

"Ow- h-he's a friend from my art class," Changkyun stuttered out, squeezing his eyes shut as Yungjae's face grew closer to his.

He knew this would happen.

Ever since this morning, Yungjae had been hesitant to let Changkyun walk home. But Changkyun had said he needed to learn the route for himself, and - surprisingly - Yungjae allowed him to.

But he should have known that Yungjae would be watching him, tracking him, making sure he was really walking home and not to somebody else's house.

"Yeah?" Yungjae growled, and Changkyun winced in pain as the grip on his wrists tightened.

"Y-Yungjae, you're hurting me," Changkyun whimpered, and as soon as those words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back.

If he thought Yungjae looked angry before, then this was beyond anything Changkyun had ever seen.

His boyfriend's face was red with pure rage, and that vein on his forehead was pulsing again, which only happened when he was angry enough to smash up his own house. And, right now, Changkyun knew he was what had caused this.

"I'm hurting you?" He yelled, dropping Changkyun's wrists from his hands, and the hazelnut-haired boy immediately went to rub at the sore spots, which would definitely bruise tomorrow. "I finally put some trust in you and what do you do? Throw it back in my face like the ungrateful whore you are!"

Changkyun tried to run - he really did - but Yungjae's hands were on him again before he could even move. Except this time, they had found purchase around Changkyun's neck rather than his wrists.

The pressure around Changkyun's neck caused the boy to see everything just that bit more blurry, black dots finding their way into his vision every time he blinked. His hands came up to Yungjae's wrists, trying desperately to tug them away, but he knew his attempts were futile.

Next to Yungjae, he was a beanpole. Changkyun was skinny and scrawny, whereas Yungjae was pure muscle and brooding height. Even if Yungjae never hit him, he would still be scared of him.

"P-Please," he croaked, his own face turning purple from the lack of oxygen he was receiving, and just as he felt himself on the cusp of passing out, Yungjae let go of him.

Oxygen suddenly flooded back into Changkyun's lungs, and his head thrummed with how quickly his vision had come back to him. Falling to the floor, Changkyun gasped for breath, coughing and spluttering all over the laminate flooring.

He shakily brought a hand up to his neck, staring up at Yungjae through his tear-filled eyes as the older male stormed off somewhere else into the house, and the sound of a door slamming finally prompted Changkyun to cry.

He'd learned how to cry silently over the years, and this time was no exception.

Curling himself into a ball on the hard floor, Changkyun cried until he couldn't cry anymore. He wanted someone to save him, but alas, no one would ever come.

~*~

"Dude, a turtleneck?" Soonyoung snickered. "I'm pretty sure those went out of style like thirty-odd years ago."

"It's cold," Changkyun muttered defensively, pulling the neck of his sweater up to cover the bruises on his neck.

"Yeah, but a turtleneck?" Soonyoung was full-on laughing at this point, and Changkyun reminded himself not to get upset with him. Soonyoung didn't know anything, and he planned to keep it that way. "You could've just worn a hoodie or a coat, you know."