Climax - Woosang

4. Second part

As soon as he felt the cold wind on his face, he knew he had to swallow his pride and try to call his best friend. It's been a long time, maybe he'll be more inclined to give him a ride, just this once? His hopes were quickly shattered when the call got declined, immediately followed by a text saying "tell me when you're home.". He couldn't help but feel his chest tighten under the coldness of the words, but kept his feelings for himself. It wouldn't help right now.

    The streets were enjoyably quiet at this time of the night. If he was a bit upset when he realized he had left his headphones at the party, he had to admit it wasn't bothering him that much in the end. The strong light emanating from the street lamps was blinding, causing him to look even more drunk than he was, but he didn't pay any mind to it. All he wanted was to let the memories of his night get brushed off by the cold breeze, just so he could start again the next day on a clear conscience. His last few hours had had their lots of deception : he didn't come close to coming once - as usual -, his date for the night turned out to be so extremely boring that he had to drink even more to actually go through with it, and when it finally happened, he had been forced to realize it would be particularly violent -and not in a good way. His jaw was still aching from the way he fucked his face.

    He was so lost in his own thoughts he only realized he had reached his apartment when he put the key in the lock. He took some time to admire the hallway, the walls that seemed too close to falling apart before being forced to hold onto the door to stop himself from ending up on the floor. He stumbled into his apartment resisting the urge to pass out on his bed straight away. Even drunk and high as fuck, Yeosang still knew he needed a shower if he wanted to avoid being a complete mess in the morning. That's why, after sending a quick text to say he made it home, he headed to his bathroom, leaving his clothes to form a trail behind him.

*********

    His reflection in the mirror would have scared him if he wasn't so used to it by now. Bruises were forming all over his body, some from this night, a lot of others mere reminders of those before. His blond hair was all over the place, strands sticking to each other thanks to a mix of sweat and cum, confirming to anyone that might meet his gaze that he had not been in a position of power. He thought about cutting his hair a lot; but he liked the way it framed his face, making him look like a doll with his wide eyes and soft features. And mostly, he knew people liked it.

    He only allowed himself to relax when he stepped foot in the shower and felt the burning water flow on his skin. As he washed away his sins of the day, he let his fingers trace the thin scars on his thighs and stomach, only reminder of what he considered to be the darkest part of his life. He had promised himself he would get better back then. So why couldn't he? Why was he rejecting any kind of help and affection, why was he so weak? He slammed his hands on the wall as he felt his legs shake under him. It was way too late to think about that now.

********

    The darkness surrounded him, making him want to crawl under his covers and shut his eyes tightly. However, he seemed to be pinned down on his bed, invisible forces holding his arms and legs into place. All he could do was stare at the ceiling, praying for this nightmare to be over soon. Except this one looked real. Way too real. He tried to scream as he realized what was happening to him, but once again, this same force squeezed his throat, suffocating him. That's when he saw them. Lurking in the shadows of his room, they were watching him struggle to breathe as thousands of hands kept touching him, undressing him, forcing him to sink in his inner demons. The last thing he heard before drifting away completely was their laughs, echoing endlessly in the room.

********

- What.

- Finally! Fuck Yeosang, I've been trying to call you for the last fifteen minutes.