N u m b

Lemons.

The liquor was almost slipping from his mouth now. He forced it down his throat like the chugging down of pills.
Jongin turned his head to the left, and he felt the absence of balance. He was fucking floating.

A girl with a blinding dark blue nightdress snaked her arm across his back. She sat on of the chairs at the bar. Far, far away yet right next to his seat. Her long, curly blond hair rested on her arms. Her skin wasn't fair, but it was beautiful. An hourglass figure was highlighted by her tight dress, and Jongin was dying to run his hands down her sides.
Jongin had no memory of her, but she seemed to recognize him well enough to raise his chin with her palm and fingers. Jongin cocked his head again, this time towards her to try and make out her face.

But with no success.

His brown locks of hair rested on the side of his head, messy and fuzzy. Jongin looked down at his feet to notice a black suit. The first three buttons of his white shirt were undone, outlined by his loose tie. He couldn't remember how he had gotten dressed like this.

The girl's cheek was next to his. Her ear next to Jongin's moving lips now, both smirking at something he said. Something no one else could hear over the deafening music. It was a conscious dream, a line between coma and limbo.

The club was drowned with shiny clothes around girls' hips, ring earrings and designer shoes. Men shouted profanity and girls clinked their cups. There was a sea of dancers on the dance floor to Jongin's far left, surrounded by flashing lights and music vibrated on one's chest. Jongin slowly began to notice it like going back to a memory at present.

He stood up, fighting off the loss of balance with his stumbling feet. But the blue girl soon dragged him back from his right arm, crashing her lips into his own. Not a thought crossed his mind. Jongin kissed her for quite some time, according to the swelling of his lips. He was hovering on top of her. Jongin's arms were next to each of her sides, holding on to the bar behind the girl so she couldn't move. He pushed and pulled at her; a wild animal beginning to devour its prey. Their hips met and so did their chests, but Jongin couldn't feel anything. He brought her down into the wooden table and then let her wrap his arms around his neck as they both came up. Maybe a few shot glasses were thrown on the floor. He couldn't remember.

Her lips were smeared with the taste of rum. His breath fell against her chin but the kiss didn't stop. The girl's lips were sweet at touch, almost innocent, too willing to be defeated.
His tongue wandered hers, and yet there was nothing be enjoyed. Jongin quickly got frustrated, wanting to find something from this girl that didn't exist. His lips got rougher and his knuckles grew white, making both of them move even closer. But nothing changed inside Jongin.

And soon he pulled away. The brown-haired man started stumbling to the dance floor without another glance. He didn't know what he was looking for, but it wasn't the girl. The unnamed girl started calling after him, but the empty lust and excitement had already disappeared from Jongin's mind.

He didn't even care about girls, he scoffed. The thought and liquor circling around his skull made his chest hiccup into laughs.

He stepped into the dance floor, automatically being pushed on and grinded on. A pair of hips bent down in front of him, rubbing a silky skirt against his thighs. Someone else had rubbed their hand down his arm in attempt to dance as he rolled his hips forwards. Some shoes stepped on his, and barely any space was left to move his arms.

Numb. Numb. Numb.
The word repeated itself as he raised his head to the roof and attempted to smile. The ceiling became his only vision.

But then a brand new of arms forced him to turn around, and a man was in front of him this time. He was several inches shorter than Jongin, and his black, short hair shined upon the flashing lights. The guy was more drunk than him, Jongin realized.
The man had wide eyes bouncing up and down Jongin's torso, smiling with heart-shaped lips. His head moved up and down, right and left according to the beat of the music. His arms went around Jongin's head, entangling themselves behind his neck to fit like a key on a lock.

Both their hips were rolling against each other, and now the man's hands were slowly sliding down Jongin's chest. Jongin's smirk reappeared and enjoyed the man's slim figure on his hands.

"Kyungsoo."

The word slipped from the man's chest and against Jongin's neck. Somehow Jongin knew what it meant. Jongin then grabbed the back of Kyungsoo's neck, pulling the man's ear next to his lips.

"Jongin."

But Kyungsoo didn't even wait to listen. Lips on ear became lips on lips, and harmless fun flashed into dangerous games. One moment Kyungsoo's hand was in Jongin's hair, another passed and his lips were sucking on Jongin's neck.

Jongin blinked and now they were in the back of a taxi cab. Outside the window were running streetlights and blurred sidewalks. All behind a black and starless background; sidelined by Kyungsoo. The man's plump red lips were connected to his again. His legs were kneeled on the carseat, and their connected hips became a familiar feeling. Kyungsoo bit and bit Jongin's bottom lip as their heavy breath fogged the glass windows. Blood entered into Jongin's taste, mixed with lingering vodka and mint bubblegum. Kyungsoo's lips were two slices of lime on Jongin's chapped lips. Acidic, burning. Sour.

But Jongin liked limes.

Their hands were buried and sloppy on each other's hair and neck. Kyungsoo's finger dragged themselves down Jongin's new hickeys, adoring the bright red splashes. But the moment didn't last long enough, and Jongin soon found himself in an unknown bed.

The room was wide with moonlight serving as the only staring flashlight. The white bed sheets felt cold and fuzzy against Jongin's back, and his head hit the pillows as Kyungsoo threw his shoulders down. The room was mesmerizing and new, but Kyungsoo was even more of both. Jongin was the one being mocked and controlled now, palms pushed down the bed by palms.

And the room spinned and spinned, making it impossible to keep his eyes on the boy above him. Kyungsoo's hands were everywhere. They were in Jongin's hair, but they were also on his chest. His stomach. Squeezing his thigh.
Finding themselves inside Jongin's black linen pants.

It made Jongin speak. But no words, and instead with silent waves of whimpers. Cracks of Jongin's attempt to curse at Kyungsoo.

He blinked for the last time and his body felt cold. Bare skin was rubbed by skin, teeth bit necks and lips weren't meant for lips any longer. Jongin's eyes were forced into his skull, and his jaw couldn't keep itself closed. His toes curled and bent knees sent a sudden chill down his back. His spine formed an arc above Kyungsoo's mouth and Jongin's hands pulled strands of hair below him.

Numb. Numb. Numb.