It Hurts, But It's You | k.gh×l.sh

You Are Mine

tw//smut(I need jesus), blood(but not really?)

All was black, not even one streak of light entering the tight blindfold barring a struggling Geonhak's eyes.

He did not know what he had done or what boundary he had overstepped to dragged into the unknown territory of his regular bar by two other men. All he wanted to do was to have some drinks and blow out some steam, his job a living nightmare to him.

However, when he walked out of his office building to meet Youngjo at the frequent bar, he did not expect the night to end up with him finding himself immobile; his limbs tied to the legs of the chair and his mouth taped shut. The rough rope holding his arms behind the backrest harshly pierced through his skin resulting in some crystals cascading down his cheek. If they were any tighter, they would draw blood.

His vision had been taken away from him the moment Youngjo had left him for a while claiming to get some more drinks and he regrets ever stepping foot in the bar. He should have just stayed overnight in the office, completed his due work and headed straight back home for his bed, not caring one bit about his sweat-drenched clothes closely hugging his body.

Instead, here he was, the same sweat acting as a never-ending stream as he lay incapable of even falling asleep, the adrenaline rushing throughout his veins keeping him from even fainting.

Although his senses were disabled, he could feel the presence of the two men who had brought him here. Wherever he was.

He would have initiated some sort of conversation, trying to squeeze out information about his capture, however, he was unable to. The sticky constraint against his lips aside, his thoughts were interrupted by presumably the loud bang of the doors bursting open.

"You guys got him? Great. You can go."

The unidentifiable voice belonged male and although it was comparatively shrill it held authority. Purpose. Power. A person worthy of his post.

Geonhak continued to wonder how he was the centre of attention in all the chaos. He gulped in fear of facing the newcomer, the reason he was being held captive. His voice was barely recognisable so what business did he have with him?

Shuffling of footsteps was accompanied with the two doors creaking shut, leaving him all alone with him. Whoever he was.

Geonhak expected him to laugh, chuckle, talk anything but all he heard was the echoes of the male's leather shoes matching each second as they approached him.

One.

Geonhak's throat was unnaturally dry, his gulps adding to the discomfort.

Two.

The blindfold tugged at the small hair strands of his electric blue hair, almost as if they were preventing his head from dropping down.

Three.

The sweat from his forehead seeped through the cursed blindfold and tape, the unbearable itchiness making him shift in his chair.

Four.

Finally, a laugh.

A small chuckle of amusement, knowing one had power over the other, entrapped him.

Five.

Geonhak sensed the male's figure right behind him, a hovering harbinger of the sinister to follow.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable?"

The pleasure the unknown voice held was immeasurable as if he enjoyed seeing Geonhak suffer, the duration of which this was going to last terribly unknown.