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The piano greeted him with tempestuous fury.
Kyuhyun had never heard the instrument being played quite like this. Every note vibrated with anger, creating a montage of raving madness and violent chaos. The very melody choked him with emotions and filled him with dread. Restlessness spread, swelled, haunting every beat of his heart.
It took Kyuhyun every ounce of his self-control to keep himself still—but he knew better than to attempt an interruption. Some demons were too strong; once they had taken root, they would always remain. And so he stood by the door, silent as shadow, watching the way Siwon turned the storm of his wrath into a torrent of chords.
The end of the piece was a burst of dissonance. Instead of a perfect finish, the pianist slammed his fingers down, blind and careless in rage.
Kyuhyun flinched, but remained where he was, until the noise faded once more into ghosts of silence.
"If you were anyone else," Siwon's voice was low, no-longer-dormant threats stirring in his undertone, "I would've left you to rot alone in hell."
Kyuhyun did not allow himself a second flinch. Slowly, he willed his feet to move, across the room where the piano was its gleaming centrepiece. The sound of his footfalls filled the arched chamber, a sharp, jarring echo.
He stopped only when he could catch Siwon's eyes. "We spoke about this," he said quietly.
The duke snorted. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
Sighing softly, Kyuhyun forced himself to sit down. The piano bench accommodated his frame, pressed against Siwon's shoulder, but barely the rift of their arguments.
"Are you so very angry?"
Siwon made a brusque, impatient sound. "Perhaps your coy act will work on lesser men. Do not, however, mistake me as one of them."
Kyuhyun felt a smirk stretch across his lips. This, finally, was familiar territory. He could work with this.
"I would never dream of thinking of you as anything lesser, milord," he replied, the softness of his purr lending degrees of possible meanings.
Siwon gave him a look. "As usual," he pointed out, his tone dry, "your mouth only knows how to provoke.”
Kyuhyun laughed. "I think you, of all people, should know how untrue that is."
No sooner had he spoken the taunt than Siwon's hand reached for his face. "Like I said," he murmured, fingers tilting Kyuhyun’s chin. "Always provoking."
Kyuhyun returned the austere gaze steadily. His usual course of action would have had him tease Siwon's fingers gently into his mouth—and the night would have predictably ended with him being spread across the piano, bare and sated.
This would not be one of those nights.
"Don't try to clip my wings," he said instead, hand firm around Siwon's wrist. "I'll run away."
"And you are so certain that I intent to keep you because?"
"Because," Kyuhyun swallowed, heart hammering in his chest, "otherwise, you would've left me to rot alone in hell."
A tense moment passed. Then a dark expression twisted Siwon's face—and at the next second Kyuhyun already found himself being pushed against the piano, jarring chords exploding all around him. Those same fingers on his chin now curled around his throat, squeezing, keeping the pressure just at this side of ruthless.
"Precisely," Siwon mouthed the word against his cheek, ignoring his pained gasps. "So you would do well to remember that, or I will bring hell to earth and you will see with your own eyes what your carelessness have caused."
Then the pressure was gone, leaving him coughing and gasping for air. Other men, Kyuhyun reflected as he desperately inhaled lungfuls of air, professed their love with flowers and jewelled trinkets. He knew from the moment Siwon had sunk an entire ship to protect him that he was not other men.
"Sometimes," Kyuhyun muttered, rubbing his neck, "I wonder if you're not the Devil himself."
"An interesting notion," Siwon hummed. The gentle caress of his voice was almost a mockery. "Then I suppose it will make you the Devil's bride?"
Kyuhyun had a perfectly scathing reply on the tip of his tongue, but it soon found itself being buried alive as Siwon bent down and claimed his lips.
"An attractive prospect, I must say."
And much later, he would realise that the night has ended with him being spread across the piano all the same.
End