Five months ago, Kim Jongin would have given you the world and more if you could just explain to him why Do Kyungsoo never showed up on his doorstep, leaving only a quick text.

‘we’re over.’

Four months ago, he would have given you everything he had, if you could just explain why Kyungsoo took up with a new guy around campus, skipping classes, making out in the back of the biology labs during lunch hours, doing all the things they used to do.

Three months ago, Jongin would have told you to name your price, just to tell him why Kyungsoo threw him looks over his new boyfriend’s shoulder, kept eye contact with Jongin whenever his lips met someone else’s.

Two months ago, he would pay you to stop Kyungsoo’s lingering glances, stop his eyes from meeting the other’s, stop him from luring Jongin back in.

Thinking back to last month, Jongin would have been back to offering you the world, his soul and everything else he ever offered you in exchange for you stopping him from staying back on Thursday to huddle in the library for a literature exam. He desperately needed the quiet and his flat roommate would have no such thing.

He needed the grade, and Shakespeare made just about the same amount of sense as Sehun’s sense of humor. It was needless to say that Sehun was the only person that got Sehun’s jokes.

Jongin pushed his hair back and flipped the page, groaning loudly at the onslaught of more words it would take him ages to decipher.

‘I haven’t heard you make a noise like that in ages,’ a voice rung out.

Startled, Jongin looked up from the object of his frustrations to another object of frustration. His eyes ghosted over the wine red hair and the short cut sides, admiring the new cut for a moment before averting his eyes to his book.

‘Yeah, well it’s been ages.’

He expected his sharp tone and the hint of dismissal in his voice to ward the boy off but no such result. He heard the chair scraping and glance up to see the chair across from him facing backwards, Kyungsoo strung over it. His ex-boyfriend always did like a challenge.

‘I don’t want it to be ages.’

It was amazing about how little it took to send Jongin’s entire life, spiraling back out of control. Seven words. They always said seven was a lucky number.

‘How about I strike you a deal. And hour of your lifetime and I can give you every note I’ve ever read, wrote or found on your lit book.’

Jongin’s eyes flickered from the book in his hands and the man sitting directly cross from him. He knew, without the help he would surely fail, but maybe he was just telling himself that to make up for possibly the worst decision he had ever made. That was when it hit him. The Devil came in different forms, and he was asking Jongin to pick his poison.

His silence was long, but Jongin knew, in his heart of hearts, that his mind was already made up, the draw out was only for show.

After a long pause, he finally spoke up.

‘Forty five minutes.’

The satisfied smirk Kyungsoo sent his way, made his stomach turn. Whether it was in regret or anticipation, he didn’t know.

On Friday, when his paper was returned, he knew he would be making more deals with the Devil.

 

A month was all it took to turn Jongin back into the same guy he was 6 months ago. The only difference was his ranking. Six months ago, if anyone asked him who Kyungsoo was he could confidently reply with, ‘My boyfriend.’

Now, if the same question was voiced all Jongin could do was shrug. He knew he wasn’t his boyfriend, that title still belonged to the pretty boy that Kyungsoo kissed in public, took on dates, held hands with in the hallways and on campus grounds.

If Jongin had to settle for a title, if wouldn’t be far off from Mistress. The one Kyungsoo kissed in dark alleys and private rooms, the one Kyugsoo ed in motel rooms, the one he held hands with outside city lines where they knew they wouldn’t be seen.

It took a lot out of him, and the places they would go together and the people that Kyungsoo would hang out with on the outskirts of the city didn’t help either.

It wasn’t long before he needed something to do while Kyungsoo was bored of him. Standing at the bar of some shady club while Kyungsoo was out doing god knows what with god knows who, Jongin’s eyes caught a flicker of smoke to the side of him. He turned his attention to the girl beside him, blowing the gray smoke out in pretty, delicate looking rings. After a minute she caught on to his staring and without turning too face him she pulled out a cigarette from a pack in her bag and mindlessly handing it out to him.

Immediately Jongin refused the offer, to which the girl barked out a laugh.

‘Listen buddy, you look like you’re in a sorrier state than I am. Take the ing thing already, they’re cheap as all hell anyway.’ 

She rolled it over to him and didn’t reply or tolerate him anymore. It was clear she wasn’t going to take it back and Jongin was desperate so this time, when he called out to her the only thing he said was, ‘You got a lighter?’

It had been five months since Jongin became Kyungsoo’s plaything and honestly, he didn’t know what he resented more. Being used, or his refusal to cut ties.

He sat behind the library, using one of the benches and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, scoffing as he remembered the first time he ever brought one to his lips. He had been so weak then, coughing like a little .

‘Weaker than now?’ a voice in his head rung.

He inhaled and, removing his chosen stick, exhaled.

After months of practice he could easily puff out the circles of smoke, the level of skill just as high as the woman who gave him his first cigarette. 

The circles diminished in size each time, the pattern resembling a tattoo Kyungsoo had on his upper shoulder. He laughed bitterly, even when the older wasn’t around, he was still in Jongin’s head.

Now, Jongin wasn’t stupid, he knew what they had wasn’t love. It was more of a sick infatuation and monopolization. The refusal to let go of the other, even when they knew it wouldn’t work. Like two puzzle pieces that just don’t fit, but have been jammed together anyway.

 

When Kyungsoo graduated from college Jongin took it as the end of not only the end of his academic studies, but also their twisted relationship.

Jongin took it as his que to take a bow and close the curtains, to move on. He pulled himself out of his recluse, determined that if Kyungsoo ever came back, he would see how much better Jongin was doing without him.

Park Chanyeol, a guy from his physics classes, had set his sights on Jongin and the two often exchanged flirty messages and eyed each other excessively whenever they could, giving everyone in their linked friend group a constant topic of conversation.

One afternoon, Jongin came home to his friends hanging out outside his flat, declaring loudly and obnoxiously that his flatmate wouldn’t let them in. He laughed loudly at the sight of the group of 4 taking turns trying to get Luhan to let them in.

It wasn’t until Jongin knocked on the door with the side of his fist and informed Luhan that it was him, did the boy open up the apartment door.

Baekhyun was the first one inside, hollering as he threw himself onto the couch, followed shortly after by Sehun and Jongdae. Xuimin followed closely after, chastising them the entire way.

It was then that Jongin got a message.

‘How about I strike you a deal?’

Even after all these months, the words still made perfect sense to him. Even if there wasn't a voice and even though the number wasn’t saved he knew who it was right away.

Before powering off his phone for the night he typed a reply.

 

It was months after any attempt at connection had been made, the incident all but forgotten by Jongin. He had gotten a job at a start up company that looked promising, things were looking up.

Looking back at it now, Jongin could have laughed, it was so foolish to think you could just cut ties with the Devil. Satan wasn’t that simple. He was cold and calculated and valued timing above everything else.

He waiting until Jongin was at an all time high, a good job, a good boyfriend and a promising future and ripped it all away.

The break started when he got the call from the hospital. The experience was surreal to Jongin, like the entire conversation was taking place underwater.

‘Condolences………Park Chayeol……..car accident……..unable to make it to the ER in time….’

The conversation may have happened underwater, because Jongin was pretty sure he cried an ocean.

It was needless to say the loss was just the first part to a snowball effect. His work was affected dearly, he was snappy and irritable and pushed everyone away. He was late on deadlines, didn’t make it to meetings, forgot his work. Truly, it didn’t come as a surprise when he was asked to pack away his things and leave.

The snowball got bigger.

It wasn’t until late that night (or early the following morning, he couldn’t care to remember) that the snowball reached it’s all time peak.

Jongin picked up his phone, scrolled to the bottom of his messages and typed something he hadn’t heard in over a year.

‘How about I strike you a deal?’

For the first time in months Jongin prayed. The irony of the situation was that he was praying for the Devil to come through.

It was exactly ten hours fifty four minutes before Jongin’s phone went off, causing it’s owner to stir from his slumber in the early afternoon. 

‘A lifetime of your hour.’

The words were mixed up but Jongin knew what they meant.

He dug to the bottom of his nightstand drawer and dug out a pack of cigarettes he bought shortly after receiving the news about Chanyeol.

Taking a duffel bag out of his closet he stuffed some clothes into it and threw in anything he was still attached to.

A minute later his phone screen lit up again.

An unsaved number, only sending a train schedule and a highlighted time.

Jongin knew it was stupid and he knew they would always fight and he knew they wouldn’t be loyal but he also knew that the appointed train was leaving in thirty minutes and he would be damned if he missed it.

Grabbing his jacket and swinging it over his shoulder he walked right into his dumbest decision yet. He lit a cigarette for the first time in months and the bittersweet feeling it gave him was almost overbearing.

He should probably think this over rationally, stop himself from walking right into the Devil’s jaws.

But this was his own story goddamnit.

He’d be damned if he didn’t pass his own literature test.