Stray Kids one shots || honeyndwild

Jeongin | boxer

The purple bruise on his cheek. The sweat glistening on his bare chest, highlighting more bruises around his ribs and stomach. You stare at it all without trying to hide the disgust that is choking you, and you spit the words out angrily, forgetting that they can hurt him too, "I hate you."

"I love you more," Jeongin smiles weakly, making an attempt to grab your shaking hands. But you push them away, harshly wiping the tears that stream down your face instead.

"I hate that I love you," you clench your teeth, the anger boiling in your veins, making you burn. Jeongin sees it all written on your face, and it makes him feel even more guilty, "I'm sorry I'm causing you pain."

Because, yes, he does. Not the physical pain that he feels every Saturday night when he goes out on that damn ring, no. He causes another type of pain, the one that feels sharper, stabs right into your heart, leaving you breathlessly furious.

Fights.

Damn it, he loves fights.

And, oh, God, he's serious about them.

"I hate how in love I am with you," you whisper your secret out loud, throw it right into his flushed face, hoping for it to reach his heart, to make it burn as much as you're burning right now.

He says boxing makes him fly. He says, the second he hears the crowd shouting, the bell ringing, the referee luring him in... He says at moments like this he feels the happiest, the most living person on Earth. And you hate how you fall in love with him for exactly the same reason. You hate how you fall in love with him the second you saw his eyes after his win, that damn passionate life burning in there.

"You can always leave," his hands fall to his laps when he looks away. His muscles tense with his every sharp inhale, and you hate how the first thought that comes to your mind is that you want to run your hand up and down his chest. You know it calms him down every freaking time.

"I hate how I can't do that," your voice breaks, and you break down too. But this time he is the one reaching his hand to you. He is the one grabbing your hands, he is the one pulling you closer, finally shortening the distance between you too.

"It's just a few bruises," he smiles tiredly, his fingers tenderly wiping away the tears from your red cheeks. "They don't hurt the way my heart does when you cry."

"How can I not cry when I see you losing?"

The third time. It's the third time he loses this month. Every Saturday night he comes here, to this damn arena, to this damn crowd. He goes to the ring, chooses the strongest prey he can find, and loses.

"You're wrong," Jeongin's whisper comes out soft, almost lullabying. It rings in your ears when he leans in, kissing your earlobe weightlessly, "I'm not losing."

"But this fight, and the previous one—"

It'll stay forever in your mind, the picture of his sweat and blood mixed on that ring's floor. Even now, in the silence of the waiting room, you can still hear the roar of the crowd and his harsh pants when he couldn't get up and the referee was counting down the seconds to his defeat.

"It's just happened to be," Jeongin shrugs, nuzzling his head in your neck. "I didn't practice enough, I'm sorry."

"Jeongin—" the disbelief rises in your chest, the desire to retort, to reach out to him, to change the way he thinks. But he interrupts you calmly but sternly, "We had this talk before, babe." He sighs, leaning back to look in your eyes, "I love what I'm doing, and I'm not going to quit. I'm sorry."

"I know."

Of course, you do. And you know, you're in no place to ask him to quit.

"I was doing it for myself at the beginning," Jeongin continues, his fingers finding their way under your shirt, closer to your skin. "But now I also do it for you. Because— Because I hate to cause you pain when you see me defeated. That's why my desire to win is even bigger now."

"I—" you can't believe it when you first hear him saying it. But when the meaning of it finally settles down in your head, Jeongin takes a lot of strength to keep you in his arms, how hard you try to escape him. "Ya, Yang Jeongin, the fuck you're saying!" The rage in your voice scares him, and he tries to hug you even closer in hopes to make this emotion to disappear. "Don't do this for me, you! I don't want to be the cause of your pain—"

He interrupts you again, this time smiling defeated, "You will be the cause of my pain if you won't kiss me, beautiful."

You won't ever understand him, you know that. When his lips hungrily smash yours, when his chest presses to yours when his hands enjoy the skin between your shoulder blades... You know you won't ever understand him.

And when your fingers tangle in his still slightly wet hair, and when your teeth graze his lower lip, and when your breath hitches in your throat, the cause of his hands travelling down your body, this time grabbing your hips, trying to push you as closer to him as he can... At a moment like this, you know you will need to find a way to let him go someday.

Someday. But not now.