Addicted (2/16)
Chapter rating: PG-13
Pairing: Onew-centric, eventual Onew/Minho.
Chapter word count: 3034
Genre: Angst, later romance.
Summary: "Jinki has a pathological need to have someone, or multiple people between his legs, and generally inside of him." Fill for this prompt in the OnHo fic meme.
Warnings: Language and just general fucked-up-ness.
Taemin is absolutely livid when they walk into the front room at 1:30 in the morning. "Key, what the fuck were you—?" He cuts himself off when he sees Jinki's weary smile, the faint sticky lines still on his face. "Hyung," he breathes, just as horrified as his friend was two hours ago when he first found Jinki. "Hyung, what—? Here." He grabs Jinki's arms and slowly walks them down the hall to the bathroom. He runs the shower and grabs his brother's pajamas while the older man undresses himself, wincing when the pain in his ass flares up again. He feels so good standing under the running water, washing away the disappointment, the pain, the fear. He uses the loofah to scrub off the grime of the insecure Jinki, the one with the itches and the needs, and puts on the fresh pajamas of Jinki the responsible older brother, the hard-working business man and reliable friend. If only he could be like this all the time.
He leaves the peace of the bathroom and walks into a war zone. Taemin and Key are screaming at each other across the living room, basically agreeing with each other that something needs to be done and yelling out their fear and concern. Guilt sinks deep into Jinki's stomach. This is what his needs do to people. Awful. No, he's not awful here, just selfish.
"I'm sorry." The yelling stops. It's dead quiet.
Taemin speaks first, sighing as he rubs his forehead. "Hyung, it's not your fault."
"We're not angry."
"We were just... I called your job and they said you'd gotten off early because you were looking a little pale, but you didn't answer your phone and it was getting late. I started to worry."
"I called Taemin and told him I was out and I'd keep an eye out for you. And there you were."
"I'm sorry," he repeats.
"Don't be sorry, just... Why? Why do you— Don't you remember last time?" Taemin is on the verge of pleading.
Jinki looks away. He doesn't want to remember. The void that opens up sometimes only knows the now, the need. There's no past, no future, only now.
Key crosses to the armchair in the corner, the one that's so ugly he claims only he's allowed to sit in it so he can make it look better. "Tell us what we can do."
"What?"
"We want to help you."
"This isn't healthy, hyung." Taemin's voice breaks. No, Jinki thinks. No, he does—did—this to protect Taemin. "If you keep going like this... You're all I have left."
Awful. Jinki wants another shower. He still feels ugly, dirty, miles from the reliable brother he used to be. When did all of that change? When did everything fall apart, turn into this twisted mess? He's taking everyone down with him. This isn't what he wanted.
"Minho..." Key starts, watching Jinki's reaction carefully. "He's kind of an expert on this sort of thing. I-I told him a little bit about you and he wants to help."
"Like therapy?"
The two younger men flinch at the word. Jinki can tell they've talked about this before; they were just waiting for the right time to bring it up.
"It couldn't hurt, hyung," Taemin says, but Jinki knows his brother is really saying please.
"Just for a little bit," Key adds.
