「all my battles have been won
but the war has just begun」

♫ hollywood undead; city

✩ y e o s a n g ✩

Under the stars, wrapped in the sheets from the bed they had made a mess of, Yeosang stroked his fingers gently over Hongjoong's soft skin, and as he did he watched over the older and every little detail of him. From the way his chest rose and fell so slowly, to his long lashes and how they fluttered slightly from the deep sleep.

'Love is the downfall of a fool.'

His hand clenched briefly, as the dark voice ran through his head. At the top of Hongjoong's chest, Yeosang let his palm rest lightly, feeling the heartbeat under his touch.

"And you were quite the fool, weren't you?" Hissing under his breath, in a low whisper, Yeosang fought back at the demon in his mind, but it had become stronger - ravenous for destruction.

'Prove to me that you are wiser then.'

The soft touch of Hongjoong's skin was left behind, as Yeosang sat up on the bed with his hands fisted into his own brown hair - pulling it until it hurt. Air got stuck in his throat, and his heart was painfully pounding in his chest.

'He will never love you the way you want him to.'

Tears showed at the corners of his eyes, and as he blinked they rolled down his cheeks with the voice thundering through his mind. All his life he had only wanted one thing; to be loved. But the world had not be kind to him, and all the lies and all the pain masqueraded as love, had left him to believe in only a decadent and shallow illusion of the real thing.

But even now, he still wanted it - he so desperately needed it.

"He will, he already does..." He gazed back at Hongjoong through the tears, pain filling his heart while the voice in his head was mockingly laughing at him.

Returning to their home hadn't been quite what Yeosang had hoped for. Being back in familiar settings would never be enough to make up for all the horrible things they went through, and although that part had been certain to him from the start, he still couldn't get over the way Hongjoong looked at him now.

Even when they were close there was still a killing distance between them, one that would probably follow them for the rest of their lives. Looking into each other's eyes reminded them of what they had done, of what the other had done - and Yeosang hated that. Hongjoong would look at him, with a glance full of hope but right underneath the surface was the pain and the guilt - the thing that kept them apart, even when they were together.

The darkness they had seen, the darkness that could never be washed away.

'He won't. Not as long as San is alive.'

Rationality was slowly fading, more and more by each day that went by - and the thought of losing Hongjoong's love to someone else, was somehow easier than to accept than to acknowledge what Yeosang himself had turned into. And in the end it was easier to point the blame on someone else.

With his hand placed on top of Hongjoong's, Yeosang caught onto a glimpse of calm. The world had tried to bend them to their knees, in the most obscene way possible, but they were still standing - still alive and breathing, and their hearts beating with the hope of a better tomorrow.

Yeosang had not only looked into the eyes of the devil, he had laid with him in bed and given his body away in exchange for staying alive. The scars on his skin would never let him forget what he had done, and neither would the dark voice in his head that kept reminding him what he had become. And the lives he had taken.

A worthless addict, a depraved whore and evil itself. Blood was on his hands, but it was the blood of justice.

Interrupted by a low buzzing, caused Yeosang to jerk his head in the direction of the unwelcome sound. Hongjoong's phone was on the nightstand, lighting up and making a noise that Yeosang didn't appreciate - and the name of the screen had his brows furrowing down with rage.

Carefully not to wake Hongjoong up, he got out of bed and grabbed the phone on his way out of the bedroom. Locking the door to the bathroom behind him, Yeosang picked up the call with his eyes darkening within seconds.

"I seem to recall telling you not to contact him anymore," he quietly growled. "What part of that did you not understand, San?"

"Yeosang..." A sigh so heavy that Yeosang easily could picture how San was rubbing his temples in frustration, ran through the phone.

"This is the third time you've tried to contact him after we returned. Do I really need to make this even clearer to you? Leave us alone, and no one will get hurt. You won't get hurt."

His reflection in the mirror caught his eye, and Yeosang moved closer with the phone clenched tightly in his hand. He studied the face staring back at him, from the grey eyes to the pink lips, and as San was mumbling some useless nonsense from the other end, cold hands began stroking down his neck.

He saw them, clearer than he had before, the burning eyes in the shadows behind him, and the deep voice was whispering to him - begging him for the release only his own hands could provide.

'Kill him.'

"Do I?" Yeosang repeated so coldly that the air itself seemed to change around him, capturing him in a castle of ice, as the Devil was stroking his neck.

"Just let me talk to him once. Don't you think it's up for Hongjoong to decide who he wants to be with?"

"Oh San," Yeosang chuckled, with his fingers running through his dark hair. "Even long before you came into our lives, like the worthless little pestilence that you are, it was me. And it always will be."

"But-"

"Call him again, and I will kill you."

Yeosang hung up and made sure to delete the call from the incoming list. A low sneer faded into the silence around him, by the frustration that Hongjoong still had San's number saved in his phone. But it was nothing Yeosang could do anything about for now - he had to play his part of being the soft and loving being, to keep Hongjoong to himself, for them to be happy together.

'He will never love you like I did.'

His hands clenched around the edge of the sink, as the darkness whispered to him again. His body tensed up, aching almost, with the denial of those words rushing through him. The way Hongjoong loved him was warm, soft and wonderful, but his body was fighting against his heart. He needed more, he needed to feel more.

With his lower lip sucked in, biting into it to prevent himself from gasping out loud, he felt the cold hands move down his skin and suddenly he was burning up. His mind turned blurry and dark clouds covered the irises of his eyes, as he stared into the mirror - but it wasn't his own reflection that was looking back at him.

Slowly, he slipped his hands into the loose sweatpants around his waist, and with each stroke he left on himself, a quiet gasp left as well. Heat was rising inside of him, and his delirious mind had soon taken completely control over him.

He loved the way Hongjoong kissed him, touched him so gently and the way they had sex. But there was an emptiness inside of him that couldn't be filled with that alone, a dark hole no amount of actual love could ever erase. His body and mind had been tortured for so long that now that he was left without it, he was craving it like a sick addict.

Yeosang pulled the sweatpants down, let them drop to his knees and with one hand supporting himself against the sink, he used the other to jerk himself off. There had been a time, where he wished for nothing more than to forget all he had seen and done, but with the darkness surrounding him, he knew there was no other way than to accept it. It was part of him now.

His toes curled up on the cold tiles under him, and his breathing hitched as he was reaching his climax. He felt the hands on his body, the burning eyes staring into his and the lips traveling up his neck to whisper in his ear.

'Say my name.'

Shivers ran down his spine, and pre-cum was dripping from the tip of his hard cock, smeared down the shaft by his hand, while his lips were trembling from holding back a moan.

'Say it.'

"S-Seonghwa..."

He came into his own hand, nearly falling to his knees as it happened. Shaking and suddenly freezing like pure hell again, he straightened his posture and stared into the mirror while washing his hands.

Seonghwa looked back at him, the black hair throwing a dark shadow over his eyes, but they were still clear as burning flames. A hand at Yeosang's neck, lips brushing against his ear, and a voice so demanding there was no other way than to obey.

'Don't waste the power I have given you.'

"I won't."

✩

Yeosang looked out over the city, standing in front of the floor to ceiling windows in Seonghwa's office. His hands stroked over the backrest of the leather chair at the desk, as his eyes slowly swayed away from the impressive view.

Every little detail of the office was carved into Yeosang's memory. He remembered all of it, and all the times the older was working late and had called him over - back when no one knew Seonghwa's true colors, and Yeosang only saw him as easily earned money.

Knowing absolutely nothing about running a business like that, Yeosang had told the board to decide who should become the new CEO, while Seonghwa was away. The youngest Choi brother had sat at the end of the long table, quietly but with a hateful glare in Yeosang's direction. But Jongho wouldn't remain silent much longer.

"I need a word with you!" The door swung open, and Yeosang caught a glimpse of the distressed face of the secretary, who didn't manage to stop the unannounced visit. Jongho stomped into the office, fists clenched by the sides, and a determined look on his face.

"Please, take a seat." A smile so fake, and a hand gesture towards the chair on the opposite side of the desk, Yeosang didn't fear the youngest brother at all.

"If you don't want the company, let me have it. I am the most qualified anyway!" Jongho growled as he had sat down.

"If that is the case, the board will vote for you, so what is the problem?"

"What is it that you want, Yeosang?"

With a smirk, Yeosang's eyes lit up. He studied Jongho's face, the look in his eyes. This one was different from the other two, but in some ways very much the same. He was longing for more, demanding more - just like his older brothers. And Yeosang could give it to him, easily - but it wouldn't come without a price.

"What is it that you want, Jongho?" he sent the question back, with his hands folded right beneath his eyes. "You say you want more, but do you really? Are you willing to make the sacrifices it takes? Or would it be better for you to stay in shadows of your brothers, always doing whatever they wanted you to do."

"What the fuck are you taking about?"

"Are you actually ready, to step out of the shadows of being just a side-character in your own life?" Yeosang clicked his tongue, and slowly got up from the chair. His hands slid across the desk, as he moved around it to stand right next to Jongho. "I'll give you three days to think about it."

The youngest Choi left without saying more that day, and as the door closed behind him, Yeosang turned to look outside again. The sun was setting over the city, in orange and yellow - as was it burning in front of his eyes - when he felt just a fiery eyes staring at him from the chair behind him.

'What are you doing, my love?'

"I have a plan, don't you worry."

'A plan?' With a scoff, the voice came closer, and soon Yeosang felt the cold hands around him again. 'And what is your plan then?'

The last sun shone through the windows so vividly, stroking over his skin and painting it like flames - and he stared into his own eyes in the reflection of the glass. Burning.

A smile spread over his lips, as the Devil claimed the last of his sanity.

In a world full of maleficent monsters, there was only one way of surviving.

By becoming one himself.

"To kill them both."

✩