toxic|chan

~four~

"I hate you." I hiss as he shoves me into his studio. The moment his fingers leave my arm I spin around to hit him, but he's far too quick for me. With one hand, he stills my assault and locks the door with the other.

"Do you remember what you told me that night?" Chan's eyes are dark as he spins me around to press my back to the door.

"Chan—what—what are you doing?" I swallow hard as he leans in toward me.

"What did you say to me that night—right before we had sex?" Chan repeats the question, this time clarifying it despite not needing to. I knew what he was talking about.

"Chan—" I close my eyes tightly as he tilts his head and ghosts his lips over my jaw.

"Say it. What did you say the night we had sex?" Chan encourages as my heart races uncontrollably. I can't seem to catch my breath no matter how hard I try. The moment I feel his chest against mine I lose it.

"I told you I hated you—that I never wanted to see you again. I said that—I hoped—I hoped you wouldn't make it as an idol." The words seem so harsh saying them now. In the moment I had been so mad—so frustrated that he was leaving me to debut. I didn't care how it made him feel—I just never expected him to react the way he did.

He was clearly mad—pissed in fact—but also sexy. Everything about him made me go weak. He seemed so much stronger than I remembered him being—more manly. For the longest time I'd only seen him as an older brother, but in that moment he became so much more than that.

"Now look at us. Who's the idol and who's the nobody?" Chan chuckles harshly as he nuzzles his nose into my neck. His lips press against the veins in my throat and I let out a soft whine.

"Chan—st—stop it." I try to slip my hands between us to push him away, but he's far to strong.

"Don't act like you don't like it." Chan hisses as he grips onto my hip with one hand while the other takes hold of my chin to keep me still. He begins nibbling on the base of my throat and my knees go weak.

I like it. I like it too much. I want to stay mad at him—I am still mad at him—but in this moment I've never wanted him more. The more we fight. The more frustrated we make one another, the more sexual tension arises. It builds up until there's no other option than to let it out. If our parents found out how messed up our relationship is—they'd be so disappointed in us. They'd tell us they raised us better. They aren't wrong. They tried to, but everything that was going on in our family lives was overwhelming and we relied on one another far too much. We spent so much time together that the little things ticked us off more than they should've. We constantly bickered and things always ended badly. It's just the way we ended up.

"Look at you—weak from just a kiss. Isn't that kind of sad? You sit here and tell me how much you hate me and can't stand me, but the moment I touch you and give you the slightest bit of attention you suddenly love me. You crave me. Should I stop? Should I let you suffer on your own?" Chan teases as he tilts my head left to right—trying to make me even angrier than I already am. He knows I'm mad at myself for giving into him. He knows I hate how weak he makes me when he's like this.

"Chan—please—don't stop." I beg through clenched teeth. I close my eyes tightly, unable to look at his satisfied smirk.

"Don't stop what, Baby Girl? Hm? Don't stop this?" Chan leans in again and presses a rough kiss to my throat.

"What about this? Do you want me to keep doing this?" Chan slips his hand under my shirt to trail his fingers along my side. I tense up and tilt my head back.

"Hold on—I think you might be talking about this." Chan lifts me up a bit and hooks my leg around his waist so his groin is pressed firmly against my heat. I let out a needy whimper and he chuckles.