Addicted (8/16)
Chapter rating: NC-17
Pairing: Onew-centric, one-sided!Joon/Onew, eventual Onew/Minho.
Chapter word count: 3511
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: Rape/non-con, language, and just general fucked-up-ness.
After the previous week's hiccup, Jinki is back on the road to recovery. He hasn't been to the Hill in two months, his last "bathroom break" was a week and a half ago, and he occasionally commits "time theft" by texting Changsun or Luna under his desk, just like a well-adjusted employee should. He's much more wary of his new rose-colored glasses this time though, afraid that one misstep is going to send all of his spinning plates crashing to the floor.
He learns that with friends comes less free time, something foreign to him. He starts scheduling things—today, I'll go to work and work on this report for a while and then call Taemin before going out—and planning ahead.
"I feel like a real adult now."
"You weren't one before?" Minho laughs.
"Not really. What kind of adult isn't allowed to leave the house on the weekends? What kind of adult spends all of their time with their younger siblings?"
"Did that bother you before?"
"What?"
"Did either of those things you mentioned bother you before now?"
"...No. I mean yes, but I also knew they were necessary. They were things I did to myself."
"You've come quite a ways in six months."
"Has it really been that long already? Wow."
"Does it feel like a long time?"
Jinki taps his chin. "Yes and no, I guess. I felt like I was moving so slowly, but half a year is a big number."
"It gets smaller as you get older. It's all about perspective."
"Did you go to a special school to learn all of those?"
"What?" Minho looks taken aback, almost self-conscious. His childish expression makes Jinki smile.
"You look like a frog like that."
"I do not. I swear..."
"If you insist."
Minho pouts before pulling himself back together, reapplying his therapist exterior that he's been forgetting more often during their sessions. Jinki starts to feel like they're becoming real friends, not just in name. For some reason, he finds that less than satisfactory. He warns himself not to get too greedy, but he can't help but want more sometimes, although he's not sure exactly what he wants more of, what "more" means.
He walks into work one morning to find Changsun and Luna engaged in heated debate, whispering furiously at each other across the receptionist's desk. He can't tell if they're arguing and don't want anyone to know, or discussing some new piece of gossip Luna heard from one of the other girls who works in the lobby.
"Hey, guys."
The way they both stop talking and turn to look at him with excessively innocent smiles reminds him of a scene in a movie: The main character's friends were talking about her when she approaches and they shut up immediately. What would they be talking about? What if they know? He feels a cold sweat break out on his lower back.
"Heeeey, oppa," Luna begins, giving Changsun a significant look that Jinki can't quite decipher. "We were actually just talking about you."
His worst fears confirmed. "O-oh? Nothing bad, I hope."
