slowly growing used
to our dulled feelings

"I know I'm supposed to be dying," Vernon mumbled, leaning heavily against me as I pulled him towards the house, "but I feel so turned on right now."

"Can't blame you," Ten said emphatically.

Next to him, Jaebum rolled his eyes in utter disgust. It wasn't hard for me to suppress a smile at the little interaction. The warning bells in my brain that had calmed down after the moment of peace in the car had started going off the moment we had pulled up outside the safe house, and I didn't care for anything other than getting Vernon back inside and getting his wound bandaged up.

"You're supposed to be dying, buddy," I muttered, patting his chest lightly. The blood on my hands had dried, leaving them feeling smooth and slightly sticky, like they had dried glue on them. "Get the wound stitched, take a cold shower, and go to bed. You'll be asleep before you can say sex."

"You said that on purpose," he slurred. "Sex."

"You're delirious," I muttered. Yeeun greeted us inside, her upper lip twitching in disgust as she took in the sight of our bloody clothes. "Take him," I said, gesturing to Vernon. "Jungkook shot him. Shoulder. It's already been more than fifteen minutes and he's still bleeding."

"If it's already been fifteen minutes, it's not that bad, speaking in terms of life or death," she answered in the same unemotional tone, and gestured to Jaebum to support Vernon. "He'll be fine. I'll remove the bullet and give him something to staunch the flow, but that's all. Stitching up wounds makes me uncomfortable. You'll have to get someone else for that."

"That's surprising," I muttered, feeling my entire body relax at her words. He'll be fine. The magic words. I doubted whether she was just saying that to make me feel better. "I'm going upstairs to sleep. Are the others still outside?"

"It's just the five of us. And Taeyong, of course, but I expect he'll be asleep by now." Yeeun glanced at her watch. "It's late. The others should be back in a couple of hours or so. Pick off the bodies."

I nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted. Jaebum muttered something under his breath as he carried Vernon away, following Yeeun to the supplies room. Ten glanced at me, all his playful perverseness washed away by a weary concern. "You good?" he asked after a moment of hesitation. "Anything you need?"

"Not that I know of, but thanks," I replied.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "I'll make sure to wake you up if I need anything."

"Don't count on that," he said, smiling, and turned away. I watched him go, feeling an unexpected gratitude rise up in me. I remembered the blonde escort, and closed my eyes, leaning against the doorframe for support. It felt like my defenses had been scrapped, leaving me bare and unguarded, and I wasn't sure if I liked it. On one hand, it made me feel unsafe, but on the other hand, it left me more relaxed than I had been ever since the beginning of the events that had left me this way.

I went up the stairs to the room I had been assigned, knowing that I wouldn't have to worry about passing Jungkook's door with him inside. Ever. He was dead, and though I was glad he was, it left me feeling purposeless.

I didn't even make it to my room before trying to get the dress off. Because its design had left my shoulders bare, the blood had gotten everywhere. I hadn't realized how badly I'd been hurt from the fight until I reached back to undo my zipper and felt a flame-like pain spark in my shoulders.

"Shit," I hissed, dropping my arms. The pain left me dizzy, and I pressed my hands to my face, blinking hard to see through the spots in my vision. The kick had landed on my sternum, but I definitely had a pulled muscle somewhere around my collar. I could leave the dress on, or take it off through the pain, or wait for someone to come help me. Yeeun would be my first choice, but I didn't want to interrupt her when she was helping Vernon, nor did I want to worry Vernon himself.

Ten? I was too embarrassed to ask him to help.

"You're back," said a new voice, and I turned to find Taeyong leaning against the door to his room. He seemed focused, like he hadn't slept at all, or maybe hadn't been able to. "Whose blood is that?"

"Not mine, don't worry," I answered, exhaling slowly in relief. "Could you—"

"Sure," he said before I could complete my statement. I turned around as he walked up, second-guessing my choice. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to have someone touch my bare skin when I was still hopped on an extra dose of overbearing concern and adrenaline, but I guessed it couldn't hurt.

I closed my eyes, trying not to sway from exhaustion, as he tried to undo the zipper without getting it jammed.

I willed my body not to react, but it wouldn't listen. Taeyong's fingertips brushed the bare skin of my back, sending sparks of electricity down my spine. His hand hovered dangerously close to the curve of my lower back, and even though he wasn't touching me, I could feel him. The brush of his fingers against my skin, his breath hot on my shoulders.

The hallway was completely dark, but there was the irrepressible fear that we would be seen. So what? The other half of my mind snapped back. What does it matter if someone sees?

I opened my eyes.

It took a moment for them to adjust to the darkness, and then I saw him.

Vernon stood just a few feet away, in the same bloodied clothes. Instantly, I was filled with an irrational fear, and the need to step away from Taeyong and explain something that couldn't be explained, but I held my ground. Every fiber of my being told me to get away, but I resisted. No. I wasn't going to move.

Oddly, there was no hostility in his expression.

I watched as Vernon stepped forward calmly, an almost detached look in his eyes as they met mine. I stared up at him as he raised his bandaged hands, discomposed and at a loss of words, until he spoke.

"Could you undo the buttons?" he asked under his breath. No, whispered. He whispered the words, his gaze unnerving, an intense emotion in it that I couldn't make sense of, but my body could.

At first, I was confused. My eyes flicked to the front of his shirt⁠—the one I had told him was too tight. It was still flecked with dried blood, but the patch near his shoulder had been cut away completely, and a bandaged tightly. Shakily, I nodded, trying to pull on a mask of composure, and reached up.

"Yeeun get the bullet out?" I asked, fighting too keep my voice steady.

"Bullet?" Taeyong echoed.

"Yeah, I got shot," Vernon said, shrugging his good shoulder like no big deal. Knowing him, he probably didn't consider it a big deal, either. "She said I had lost a lot of blood, and I needed to drink a lot of water."

"You better." I tried my best not to let my hands come in contact with his chest, but what with the tightness of his shirt, it was next to impossible. My muscles were tensed as I unbuttoned his t-shirt, and before I had even reached halfway through it, I reflexively looked up at Vernon.

He wasn't even looking at me, I noticed with an irrational burst of resentment, but behind me. His features were taut, relaxed but unyielding, and there was challenge in his eyes. With a jolt, I realized that Taeyong's hands had stilled on my back.

Warmth rushed to my cheeks and neck. End me now, I thought desperately. There I was, standing in the dark between two very attractive men with nothing on but a flimsy dress. I tore my eyes away and worked furiously at the buttons, silently willing Taeyong to show a little more work ethic and unzip the dress faster.

Something brushed against my neck, and I started. Vernon was bent closer to me, his breath hitting my naked shoulders, then stopped. "I told you I'd let you take it off," he whispered playfully.

I went very still, sure that if I tried to move, I would do something bad. He kept moving closer, until my hands were trapped against his chest, and pressed his lips to the side of my neck.

Fuck.

Involuntary, I sucked in my breath as he kissed down the side, a small sound that seemed a thousand times louder in the dead silence. Vernon brushed my hair out of the way impatiently, the tip of his nose skimming the skin of my naked shoulder as he opened his mouth against my skin, and licked it.

The tip of his tongue was warm as it traced a line into my cool skin, and my eyes fluttered shut; I couldn't help it⁠—I sighed, slowly and luxuriously, tensed muscles relaxing at the sensation.

"Sweet," he mumbled against my neck, and I felt his words like breaths on my skin. "There's sugar on your skin."

There's what on my skin?

My eyes opened wide, heat flaring under my skin. Half of me wanted to call it a day and run back into my room, and the other half was still reeling from the touch, not wanting it to stop. I stood there, humiliated but wanting, in a dilemma I'd never thought I'd have to face.

"Is it?" Taeyong asked, voice lower than I remembered it to be. It was hushed and deep, a tone I had heard many times, and I could almost see his tongue flick over his lips.

The next thing I felt was the warmth of his mouth against the other side of my neck, and the feeling of all the blood draining from my body. He made a sound at the back of his throat, surprised and curious, but didn't pull back after a taste.

"It is sugar," he said, amused.

"Yes, great," I snapped. "Now can you hurry up?"

He didn't reply, but I felt his grin against the skin of my neck. He pulled the zipper down in one go, and I extracted myself from between them, and made my way down the hallway stiffly.

Neither of them made a move to follow me, but I could feel their gaze on my back. Sugar on my fucking neck. I slammed the door shut and leaned against it, hearing my heart pound in my chest.

"Hey," I heard Vernon say, softly, but not gently. "Yeeun said she couldn't close the wound, and I know this isn't the best time to ask, but could you—"

"Sure," Taeyong replied, and my eyebrows rose. This I had to see. I waited until I heard the sound of the door closing behind them before slowly opening the door and stepping out, taking care not to make a sound as I tiptoed up to Taeyong's room. I could hear them shuffling about, but most of it was moody silence.

"The shot missed a major artery, so you're lucky," Taeyong said. "You really dodged a bullet there—that was unintended."

"Yeah, I guess," Vernon said. "In the car, I felt like I was ascending, but it might have more to do with something else."

He didn't specify what, but it was there in his tone. I frowned. An implication, which was uncalled for. Taeyong didn't respond to it, but they were silent for a while.

"Jungkook's dead?" Taeyong asked at length.

"Yeah," Vernon said, then hissed. "Watch it."

"Can't help it, we don't have anesthetic." I assumed they were talking about the pain from the stitching. "How old was he?"

"Twenty-eight."

Twenty-eight? I raised my eyebrows. Somehow, I had always thought of Jungkook as beyond the restrictions of age and time.

"Good," Taeyong said. "Bastard had it coming. Did you do it?"

"No," Vernon said. "She did."

My fingers curled. There was a pause, and for a while, the only thing I heard was silence, peppered with the occasional wince from Vernon.

"Really?" Taeyong asked finally, voice soft with surprise.

"Yeah," Vernon affirmed. "I didn't see her when she did it, but after, when she helped me up. It only scared me more—not of her, of course, though I'd be pretty scared, if she turned on me with that knife." He chuckled, but it sounded half-hearted. "But that wasn't it. I kept thinking about how it was for me the first time I killed." Taeyong was silent. "You put yourself into a whole new kind of hell."

"I know," Taeyong said shortly. "I've only ever killed once—my father—but it fucks you up more when you don't feel any remorse."

I closed my eyes, pressing my forehead to the door. Was I remorseful about killing Jungkook? Something told me I wasn't—at least not half as remorseful as I should have been.

They didn't speak for a long time after that, but the whole duration, my stomach felt like it had a butterfly stuck in it. I hadn't seen them properly interact before, and the smallest snatches of conversation filled me with dread, especially now that we had defined out relationship with one another. There was definitely no love lost between them, but they didn't seem to hate each other, either, which, I supposed, was a start.

"Done," Taeyong said, and I heard him step away. "Don't strain your shoulder too much for a while. I haven't been shot, but I've dealt with a similar injury before, so you should be fine."

"Good to know," Vernon said. There was a pause, and I moved away from the door, but the walls were thin enough for his voice to carry through. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a cold shower to take."

──────

most of this chapter seems like it was written for self-indulgence, and that's because it's true. it was. sue me.

but it was also written because some people still don't seem to realize what happened in chapter twenty nine. neither taehwang nor verhwang have sunk as of now !! they're together, all of them !! the poly is agenda is still going strong !!

also i was going to save the ship name thing for the second draft when we actually have a name for her but you guys seem to have your heart fixed on taeverhwang so we gon roll with that. it suits them lol

also 2: we're at 100k and i didn't even realize, thank you guys so much :( imma go cry

love, 
Manx.