WARNINGS: KIDNAPPING, OBSESSIVE, CREEPY, TORCHER KINK, MIGHT TRIGGER SELF HARM, ONLY READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Yeonjun knew that falling in love with Choi Soobin was a terrible mistake, but it was one he had long since resigned himself to.

"I saw you in the garden today," Soobin whispered softly, running a hand delicately up one of Yeonjun's calves, his face mere inches from Yeonjun's cock, semi-hard and trapped beneath his uncomfortable trousers.

"You should have come and said h-hi— oh!" Yeonjun let out a moan as Soobin's hand traveled dangerously up his inner thigh and back down, landing at his ankle where he traced a wickedly soft pattern with his middle finger.

"You know I can't do that," Soobin replied simply. Yeonjun scowled and let out a little whine as Soobin took his time undoing the laces on the older man's shoes. "Quiet," Soobin shushed him, slipping Yeonjun's left shoe off and placing it to the side, "You wouldn't want anyone to hear, would you?"

"No," Yeonjun admitted, biting his lip to stifle yet another impatient groan as Soobin removed his other shoe carefully.

Soobin was sinfully sweet and painfully realistic, a stark contrast to Yeonjun's rebellious and spontaneous nature. Though he hated to admit it, Yeonjun was spoiled– one of the many unfortunate consequences of his good breeding. He didn't want things, he needed them and it frustrated him to no end when he couldn't have what he needed. If Soobin was any less perfect, Yeonjun would think he was a tease– getting off on denying Yeonjun what he craved under the guise of being careful and attentive, but Soobin wasn't the type to tease. He didn't avoid Yeonjun's gaze when they came across each other around the estate out of cruelty or selfishness, but out of care. When Soobin snuck quietly into his bedroom at the end of the day and took his time sweetly undressing him, neatly folding each layer of clothing and placing it delicately to the side, it wasn't meant as a torment, but as a kindness. And yet it was such a torment for poor, spoiled Yeonjun to feel the younger man's hot breath against his chest as he meticulously unbuttoned his shirt, slowly slipping it off one shoulder, then the other.

"You're so beautiful," Soobin said, his voice low and dripping with an earnestness that made Yeonjun's heart flutter as he neatly folded the shirt and placed it next to his shoes.

"So are you," Yeonjun said, running a hand through Soobin's hair as he unfastened the buckle of Yeonjun's belt.

"Not like you are," the younger replied, slipping the belt through each loop of his pants with care. "You're so soft," he added, running a rough hand gently across Yeonjun's chest, "and so small. You're like a flower, so delicate and pretty."

"But you're strong," Yeonjun said, meeting Soobin's eyes, "And so big," he added with a wink.

Soobin rolled his eyes at the joke. "For a rich boy, you're not very well-mannered."

"Isn't that how it always works?" Yeonjun teased, "The rich boys who should have manners are rude, but the servants who've earned the right to be insolent are polite?"

Soobin raised an eyebrow. "Is that how you see me? As a servant?"

"No," Yeonjun said honestly.

"You should," Soobin said, giving Yeonjun a small pat to adjust himself as he slipped his trousers off.

"Do you really feel that way?" Yeonjun asked, "You want me to look down on you?"

"It doesn't matter how I feel," Soobin answered, finally kicking off his own shoes and undressing himself.

"It matters to me," Yeonjun replied, enamored as always with the ripple of the younger man's abs as he removed his shirt.

"Your delusion is a sign of your privilege," Soobin teased, crawling in bed next to Yeonjun, pulling him close. Yeonjun let out a deep breath, shuddering a little as Soobin ran his fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck.

"Maybe that's true," Yeonjun said, smirking, "But what explains yours then?"

Soobin raised an eyebrow. "My what?"

"Your delusion."

Soobin smiled. "I'm not delusional. I know that you can never be mine."

"I am yours," Yeonjun retorted, but Soobin just laughed.

"Don't say that," he said, his large hands traveling slowly down Yeonjun's back. Yeonjun loved the way Soobin dwarfed him, made him feel so fragile and pliant under him. He mewled as Soobin locked their lips together, slipping a single finger easily inside of him, stretching him gently to prepare for what was to come.

Yeonjun's breath hitched in his throat as Soobin gently fingered him, slipping his tongue into Yeonjun's mouth as he did so. He knew how to make Yeonjun feel good– too good– he sometimes thought. It was intoxicating: the way he knew exactly what Yeonjun liked, what made him come completely undone, and how he managed to keep his composure even when Yeonjun was a ruined, crying mess beneath him.

Yeonjun could feel Soobin hardening against his stomach and he felt like he was going to burst from the overwhelming longing when Soobin finally slipped his finger out, instead directing his attention to the other man's chest. He kissed and sucked a constellation of hickeys across Yeonjun's collarbones, careful to stay low enough that a shirt could easily hide the marks. Yeonjun whined and bucked his hips needily as Soobin sucked his nipples, smirking a little at how desperate the older man was getting.

"Soobin-ah, please!" Yeonjun hissed. "Please! Can't– can't take it!"

"What do you want, Yeonjun-ssi?" Soobin asked, propping himself up on his forearms, his face mere inches from Yeonjun's.

"Fuck me, please!" Yeonjun whined. "Please, please!"

"Good boy." Soobin smiled, "See? You can have good manners if you try."

"Yes, yes, I'll be good." Yeonjun nodded, desire raging in his stomach. "Please, please, just fuck me, please!"

It was always the same with Soobin. He was as meticulous in bed as he was in everything else, gently working Yeonjun open with his fingers, making sure never to hurt him or stretch too much at a time. He was big and Yeonjun was insatiable, greedily taking all of him inside so well and crying in pleasure when the younger man fucked him hard and fast, slowing down only when Yeonjun was close to ensure he didn't finish too quickly. Soobin's intuition was scarily accurate, and he was a master at distracting Yeonjun's mind with a bite on the neck or pinch on the nipple when he was too close to finishing early.

It was always the same. Soobin would fuck him senseless and, when he was done, he would clean him up diligently. He would dress him for bed and lay next to him and the two of them would talk as long as Yeonjun could fight off his tiredness. Yeonjun would fall asleep first and when he woke up in the morning, Soobin would be gone.

It was always the same. And it was always just enough to keep Yeonjun addicted.

"I want to try something different."

Now there was a sentence he never thought he would hear Soobin say.

"You have to trust me," Soobin continued as he slowly removed Yeonjun's belt, the same way he always did.

"Of course I trust you," Yeonjun said, his heart racing in his chest.

"Good boy," Soobin praised him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Lay back."

Yeonjun complied. Soobin crawled onto the bed, still fully dressed, and straddled him. He looped the belt through the slats of the headboard and Yeonjun felt an excited fire rage in his chest as he allowed Soobin to take each of his hands in his own and secure them above his head.

"Is it too tight?" Of course, even in this position, Soobin was still considerate.

"No," Yeonjun said, wriggling his hands a little. The knot was definitely secure– there was no way Yeonjun could free himself– but it didn't hurt or restrict the flow of blood to his fingers.

"How do you feel?" Soobin asked, looming over Yeonjun, but not touching him.

"Um..." Yeonjun felt a twinge of embarrassment, but to his surprise, that excited him too. He could feel himself getting hard and he knew Soobin noticed too, though he didn't say anything.

"Are you scared?" Soobin asked.

"No." That was the truth.

Soobin smiled slyly. "Do you want to be scared?"

"I could never be scared of you," Yeonjun replied.

"Then how do you feel?" Soobin asked again.

Yeonjun thought for a moment. "Vulnerable," he said at last, "A little slutty. Owned."

"Oh?" Soobin raised an eyebrow. "And do you like it? Feeling owned by me?"

"Yes," Yeonjun replied without hesitation.

Soobin unbuttoned Yeonjun's pants and slid them and his underwear off in one quick, skillful motion. "I've been thinking," he said, taking Yeonjun's cock in his hand, slowly sliding his thumb back and forth over the tip, covering the head in his own wetness, "You always want to talk to me about your feelings, so I want to hear them."

"You— what?" Yeonjun blinked, confused. "You want me to talk to you about my... feelings? Right now?"

"Yes," Soobin replied simply, stroking Yeonjun lazily, eliciting a little whine from him.

"Okay," Yeonjun said, bucking his hips a little as Soobin tantalizingly picked up the pace of his stroking. "I love you," he admitted, "I wish you weren't so dense and would let me– ah!-- let me–" Yeonjun's eyes rolled back in his head as Soobin wrapped his pretty lips around his dick, taking his full length into his mouth, sucking him off gently.

"Let you what?" Soobin asked, "Don't get distracted."

"Yes, sorry, ohh–" Yeonjun groaned, trying to keep his thoughts in order as Soobin continued lapping at his cock. "I wish you would let me have you."

"Hmm," Soobin hummed. "Let you have me how?"

"I wish you would– ah!-- I wish you would quit working for my dad– ohh– I wish you would quit your job and move away somewhere and– God, Soobin-ah!-- take me with you."

"You think it's that simple?" Soobin asked, replacing his mouth with his hand once again, stroking at a faster pace now than before.

"I don't– Soobin I don't think I can last much longer, please–"

"You will," Soobin said firmly, "I'm not stopping, even if you cum, so you better wait. I know you can go longer than this."

Yeonjun felt like he was going to explode, but he shut his eyes tight and tried to steady his breathing, desperately trying to dissociate from the pleasure Soobin was giving him.

"Focus," Soobin commanded softly, "I asked you a question. You think it's that simple? You think the son of a prominent politician can run away with a gardener– a man– and get away with it unscathed."

"We both speak Japanese," Yeonjun replied, trying desperately to focus on the conversation, "We could go– we could– ah, ah!-- we could go to Japan."

"Sounds like you've given this some thought," Soobin said, slowing his pace to give Yeonjun a fighting chance to hold back his orgasm. "But it still doesn't make sense to me, Yeonjun-ssi."

"Wh– what doesn't?" Yeonjun asked, glancing down at him.

"Why on earth you would even consider that," Soobin specified, running the fingers of his free hand tantalizingly up and down Yeonjun's torso. "You have every luxury a person could dream of. Why would you give that up to run away with me?"

"Because I– I love you," Yeonjun admitted. There were tears welling in his eyes now, and he didn't know how in hell he was going to be able to take any more without being allowed to release when Soobin stopped suddenly, pulling his hands away, leaving Yeonjun on the verge of orgasm, desperate and untouched.

"Soobin, please–" Yeonjun began, but Soobin shushed him.

"It's my turn," he said quietly, "Are you going to be selfish or are you going to be a good boy and let me talk?"

Yeonjun felt like he was going to explode, but he blinked away his tears and nodded, slowly. "Yes, of course I'll be good. I'll be good."

"I knew you would." Soobin smiled, planting a soft kiss on Yeonjun's thigh which he felt might drive him actually insane, but his desperation to be obedient allowed him to keep it together somehow. "I love you too," Soobin admitted, sitting up so that he was looming over Yeonjun once more. "I really do, hyung." Yeonjun felt his face flush and his stomach jump to his throat. Soobin always called him Yeonjun-ssi , nothing else, no matter how much Yeonjun insisted.

"But," Soobin continued, "It's not as simple as you think it is."

"What do you mean?"

Soobin reached up and released Yeonjun's wrists from their bindings. "We can't run away together. I know you think it's what you want, but it isn't. You'd be miserable– maybe not at first, but after a while, you would. You'd resent me and hate me and leave me. So we can't."

"But–" Yeonjun started to protest, but Soobin lunged at him, pinning his arms to the bed on either side of his head.

"No," Soobin said. "Please, don't make this harder than it has to be. Don't– don't tempt me. Please."

Yeonjun wanted to protest, but he had never seen Soobin like this, so he stayed quiet.

"It has to be like this," Soobin continued, "For now."

"For now?" Yeonjun's head perked up. "What does that mean?"

"You have to trust me, remember?" Soobin said, smiling down at the older boy. "You said you trusted me, right? You agreed?"

Yeonjun swallowed and nodded. "Of course I do."

"Good." Soobin leaned down and kissed Yeonjun softly on the mouth. "I love you," he whispered, his lips still grazing Yeonjun's.

"I love you too," Yeonjun replied, tangling his fingers into Soobin's hair and kissing him back greedily.

"I want to be with you," Soobin promised, reaching around to prep Yeonjun, sweetly this time, like usual, "but it's complicated. So you have to be patient with me."

"Okay," Yeonjun agreed, "I promise."

Yeonjun was disappointed, though not stupid enough to be surprised, to find Soobin missing the next morning. And just like that, their usual routine resumed. Soobin entered his bed like a thief in the night, undressed him softly, fucked him roughly, and stole away once he was asleep. After a few days, Yeonjun began to wonder if that night had been a dream. After a week, he wondered if he had been played. Had Soobin just told him what he wanted to hear? Had he made false promises of love and asked for Yeonjun's trust to get him to shut up and play along with his games? Surely that wasn't within Soobin's nature to do, although, Yeonjun thought, tying him to the headboard and sadistically teasing him didn't really seem like something within Soobin's nature to do either.

Yeonjun began to wonder if he really knew anything about Soobin at all. Something about the mystery surrounding him managed to make him even more intoxicating and maddening than before. He found that Soobin slowly began to take up more and more of his mental space. Yeonjun needed him– needed him like he needed designer clothes and expensive alcohol and private jets at his whim– but those things he could have anytime he wanted, unlike Soobin. God, he wouldn't even make eye contact with Yeonjun outside of the bedroom, wouldn't address him as any less than Yeonjun-ssi, wouldn't open up to him or give any more of himself away to him, and the little of himself he did give to Yeonjun satisfied him less and less every time they met. It was infuriating, and the fury only caused his need to grow.

That's when he began to follow him.

On some level, Yeonjun knew it was wrong, especially after he had promised to be patient, but wasn't Soobin also wrong for stringing him along? How cruel of him to ask for patience from a spoiled, rich brat and then actually expect him to wait.

Soobin came to visit Yeonjun four nights a week, Monday through Thursday. Soobin said it was less suspicious if he was found sneaking around during the week. If he was caught at night, he could claim to have forgotten something and come back to get it and if he was caught in the morning, he could claim he had come to work early to get a head start. On the weekends, Yeonjun quickly learned, Soobin had a routine equally as strict.

He walked to the convenience store every Friday evening, then took the train home. The first weekend, Yeonjun lost him trying to keep his distance at the station. The next week, he was a bit more reckless, hopping on the same train just one car down and watching him like a hawk through the small window in the door separating the cars.

Soobin lived four stops away in a small house in a quaint, residential neighborhood. When he got home on Friday night, he didn't leave until Saturday when he would go for a jog at 3:00pm. Like clockwork, he returned at 4:45. The same on Sunday. He didn't leave again until Monday morning when he went back to work at the estate. For a month, Yeonjun watched him. The routine never changed.

Yeonjun never intended for it to go any further than that. All he wanted was to feel closer to Soobin, to know a little more about his life, however mundane it may be, but he quickly realized that the more he learned, the more he craved. If he could figure out his front door code, surely that would be enough. He didn't need to enter, but surely if he could guess it, just knowing he could go in if he wanted to would be enough.

Yeonjun's friends had started to ask questions. Why didn't he ever want to go out on the weekends anymore? Why didn't he want to go with them to Jeju Island? Was he still going to go with them to Switzerland next month, or was he going to flake on that too? Surely, he thought, if he could just satiate this craving now, if he could know all there was to know, then he could finally move on.

990913.

Yeonjun didn't expect it to work, but the lock clicked open on his first try. It was stupid, but the knowledge that Soobin had chosen his birthday as his front door code made his cheeks flush and his heart begin to race. He felt himself starting to reach the high he'd been chasing for months. He couldn't give up now. No, it was just getting good! He had to go in.

He turned the handle and entered quietly, shutting the door carefully behind him. He checked the time on his phone. He had just over an hour until Soobin would return. Perfect.

He didn't bother rifling through Soobin's things. He was detail-oriented and would surely notice if anything was out of place. Besides, snooping through drawers and closets would likely yield little if anything of interest to Yeonjun.

The house was small. It had a living room, kitchen, half-bath, and one bedroom. He entered the bedroom first and found that next to the bed, Soobin's laptop laid open on the floor. Jackpot.

990913.

This was too easy.

His browsing history showed little of interest: no porn, no social media, a few Naver searches for recipes, video games, and girl group songs. Yeonjun giggled to himself at the idea of Soobin baking bread while listening to Aespa, but was ultimately not satisfied with what he found. He was about to give up his search and resign himself to the idea that he was desperately in love with a poor, boring idiot when he noticed something small and black sticking out slightly from its place under the bed: an external harddrive. Yeonjun did a little celebratory dance, patting himself on the back for his keen eye as he plugged in the harddrive, wasting no time digging through its contents.

He clicked the source icon and was surprised that only two folders appeared. One was untitled, the other labeled, "CHOI YEONJUN."

Yeonjun gulped, his heart racing in his chest. His mind began to race with the possibilities of what the hell Soobin could have about him stored on a secret harddrive. He clicked without hesitation and–

It was him. And Soobin. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, of photos of him. They were all dated, going back months. Yeonjun's stomach turned over inside of him as he realized the exact number of months. It was every time. Every day for nearly a year, every day that Soobin had visited him– had fucked him– he'd been taking photos, keeping evidence. How? And for what? Yeonjun scrolled and quickly found that it wasn't only photos. There were videos too, hours and hours of videos. Yeonjun confessing his feelings, begging to be fucked, begging for more; Yeonjun tied to the headboard, trying to convince Soobin to run away with him.

Yeonjun panicked.

Cnrl+A. Delete. Password needed. 990913. Incorrect password. Fuck .

Yeonjun's mind was racing. This wasn't what he wanted; wasn't what he expected.

He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Soobin was... playing him? This was all a long con to... what exactly? Blackmail his father? Of course. Yeonjun's entire life, everything was always about his fucking father. And next year was an election year. How could Yeonjun be so stupid? So reckless? But he could fix this. He could go back home, pretend not to know. He could coax Soobin into telling him somehow. He could learn what he really wanted, convince him not to do whatever the hell he was planning on doing, or to let him in on it.

Yeonjun closed the folder, steadying his breath, but even now he couldn't satiate his curiosity. With bated breath, he clicked the untitled folder.

It only contained one item: a Word document with a single hyperlink inside. He knew he would regret clicking it, but he bit his lip and did so anyway.

Yeonjun's eyes widened at what he saw. It was a live feed of a guy who looked about Yeonjun's age, his long dark hair falling into his eyes. He was naked, gagged, and bound spread eagle on a St. Andrew's Cross. He looked thin, gaunt, and Yeonjun couldn't tell if he was conscious or not, but he was unmoving, dirty, bruised, and... Yeonjun really hoped that wasn't blood.

He slammed the laptop shut, suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that he was going to vomit. What the fuck what the fuck whatthefuck. Any thought of playing it cool immediately disappeared from his mind. He had to tell someone– the police, anyone. He yanked the harddrive from the computer and bolted out of the room, running face-first into Soobin's chest.

Yeonjun froze in place, paralyzed in shock and fear. Soobin glanced down and saw the harddrive in his hand, though he remained unnervingly calm.

"Did you really think I didn't notice?" he asked, his voice steady.

"What?" Yeonjun managed to choke out, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.

"You don't have to be scared," Soobin said, reaching out and running his fingers through Yeonjun's hair, sending a chill down his spine. "I'm not going to hurt you," he continued, "If you want to leave with that," he gestured to the harddrive still clutched tightly in Yeonjun's palm, "I won't stop you."

"I don't believe you," Yeonjun said, cowering and taking a few steps backwards, putting as much distance between himself and Soobin as possible, though, he realized too late, he was cornering himself in the bedroom.

"What if I told you I have multiple copies of everything on that harddrive and the minute you leave, I will post every photo and video of you that I have publicly?" Soobin asked with a hint of a smile, "Would you believe me then?"

Yeonjun swallowed. "Yes. I guess I believe you then."

"Good boy," the words made Yeonjun's skin go cold. Soobin took a step forward and stretched out a hand. Yeonjun wordlessly handed him the harddrive, collapsing onto the bed behind him.

"I have to admit that I'm disappointed," Soobin said. "I thought you trusted me."

"I thought I could," Yeonjun shot back, his fear quickly turning into anger, "I thought I knew you, at least a little bit. I thought you meant the things you said to me!"

"I did!" Soobin sounded genuinely hurt at the accusation. "Of course I meant it. I love you, hyung."

"You don't! You used me!" Yeonjun screamed, pissed beyond belief that Soobin would continue this sick charade even after he had seen the evidence of his betrayal.

"I didn't." Soobin's words dripped with the same sincerity that they always did. "I would never use you. How could you think that?"

"You recorded me," Yeonjun said, "You took videos of me without me knowing. That's so fucked up, Soobin, I don't even know—"

"You said you liked it," Soobin interrupted him. "You said you liked feeling like I owned you. You said you wanted to give up everything to be with me. I didn't prompt that. You said it on your own."

"You know that isn't what I meant!" Yeonjun roared, "You know what I was talking about! Sex, running away, I never, ever said—"

"I told you I had a plan." Soobin cut him off again, "I told you to trust me and let me handle it."

"And what was your plan, Soobin?" Yeonjun shouted, "Blackmail my dad into letting us be together?"

"Yes," Soobin replied simply.

"That is the stupidest and most fucked up—"

"It would have worked," Soobin insisted, "Next year is an election year. He would have done anything to keep that from going public. He would have given you whatever you wanted! You could keep your life of luxury and be with me. We could have run away!"

Yeonjun's mind was racing a mile a minute. "We still can," he said, desperate to find an escape plan, "So I know about the videos. Can't you still use them to blackmail my dad? Nothing has to change!" Yeonjun stood and crossed to Soobin, placing his hands pleadingly on each side of his face, cupping his cheeks as if for a kiss.

It scared Yeonjun a little how he still felt safe and warm when Soobin wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into his chest.

"You know we can't do that," Soobin said, still holding Yeonjun in a tight embrace.

"Wh-Why not?" Yeonjun asked, clinging to Soobin desperately, shutting his eyes tight hoping that at any moment he would wake up and this would all be a terrible dream.

"Don't play dumb," Soobin scolded him, irritated. "We both know you wouldn't be running out of here terrified if all you had seen were your own photos."

Yeonjun's breath hitched in his throat. In his desperation to escape, he'd nearly forgotten about the guy in the video.

"Okay, so, you're into some fucked up porn?" Yeonjun asked, trying to stay calm. Soobin was acting so normal and he felt so gentle and safe, surely this had to be a misunderstanding. "Aren't a lot of people into stuff like that? You can just delete it from your browsing history and it's like it never happened! And if you have some kind of fucked up porn addiction or something you can get help. I can help you find a therapist or something. It'll be okay."

"You're right." Soobin released his hold on Yeonjun, brushing the older man's bangs out of his eyes, "It will be okay. I think, honestly, it's better this way."

Yeonjun furrowed his brow. "You do?"

Soobin nodded. "Now we don't have to hide anything from each other," he explained.

"Right." Yeonjun breathed a sigh of relief. "You know that I'm an obsessive stalker and I know that you're into blackmail and weird torture porn. We're both fucked up, but it'll be okay and we can blackmail my dad and–"

"Yeonjun," Soobin interrupted him, "Stop."

There was a terrible moment of silence before Yeonjun looked up to meet Soobin's gaze. "Stop what?" Yeonjun asked.

Soobin looked tired, maybe a little irritated. "Stop trying to escape," he said. "I told you, if you want to leave, you can just leave."

"So you can do what?" Yeonjun asked, "Post my photos for the world to see? Ruin my life?"

"Not as badly as you'll ruin my mine," Soobin replied.

Yeonjun sighed. He didn't understand why he was still here. Soobin was right; even if every news outlet in the nation had the videos of him, it would be easy to twist it into a story of Stockholm Syndrome and manipulation, especially if Soobin actually did some poor guy tied up naked somewhere. So, why didn't he just leave? Why did the thought of losing Soobin still hurt so badly? Why did he still want him to wrap his arms around him and hold him until he fell asleep every night?

"And what happens if I stay?" Yeonjun found himself asking.

Soobin's face broke into a smile. "We can be together," he replied.

"Together?" That was it: the high Yeonjun had been chasing. Yeonjun had injected Soobin, poisonous and addictive, into his veins, and Soobin had just offered him a lethal dose, too enticing for an addict like him to refuse. He felt a tear run down his cheek, and Soobin wiped it gingerly away with his thumb.

"I want you to stay," Soobin admitted, cupping Yeonjun's cheek in his hand. "I want to be with you– to share my life with you like I was too afraid to do before."

"I want that too," Yeonjun replied honestly, sniffling, "That's all I ever wanted."

"I know, I'm sorry," Soobin said, pulling Yeonjun into a hug once more. "I should have listened to you when you told me what you wanted. But instead, I thought I knew a better way." Soobin kissed the top of Yeonjun's head sweetly. "But I can give you what you want now."

Soobin held Yeonjun tightly for a few minutes, rocking him gently and kissing his head. Finally, he spoke.

"You've been through so much today, and it's getting late. Let's get you washed up and fed and go to sleep. We can figure the rest out later, okay hyung?"

There were still a million thoughts racing through Yeonjun's mind, but the offer to ignore them was too good to pass up. At the very least, he could spend one final, blissful night with Soobin and figure out what to do tomorrow once he was well-rested and could think properly.

"How do I know you won't hurt me?" Yeonjun asked, "Slit my throat in my sleep or something?"

"I could ask you the same," Soobin said, somehow still smiling, "I guess we'll both just have to risk it."

Yeonjun hesitated. "But what if you, like, drug me or something?"

"Yeonjun-hyung," Soobin met his eyes and gave Yeonjun the softest, most sincere look that the older boy had ever seen, "I told you, I would never hurt you."

It felt like the truth, so Yeonjun believed it. He nearly collapsed as the adrenaline rush he had been experiencing wore off, so he let Soobin carry him to the bathroom where he undressed him as meticulously and carefully as ever. He washed him gently and thoroughly, ensuring the water was a comfortable temperature and humming softly under his breath as he did so. After his bath, he helped Yeonjun to the kitchen and got him a glass of water to drink while he made them each a giant helping of ramyeon, Yeonjun's favorite. After they ate, Soobin carried him to bed and Yeonjun found he had almost forgotten everything that had happened by the time Soobin laid down behind him, enveloping him in his strong arms. Yeonjun let out a sigh, his mind shockingly quiet, and gave himself over to sleep.

He woke up, for the first time ever, in Soobin's arms.

"Good morning," Soobin whispered softly in his ear, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, 'morning," Yeonjun yawned, blinking his eyes open. "Where are we?" he asked, realizing that he wasn't in bed, but instead sitting on the ground between Soobin's legs, his torso propped up against the younger man's. He looked around the room, trying to drink in his surroundings, but it was almost entirely dark, except for the far side of the room which was lit by a dim overhead light.

Yeonjun's eyes widened. "No. No no no no no no no, Soobin, no no!" Yeonjun wailed, burying his head in Soobin's chest. This couldn't be real; it didn't make sense.

"Don't cry, hyung," Soobin cooed, scratching his back comfortingly. "What's wrong?"

"Don't do this, please, please, don't do this," Yeonjun pleaded through desperate sobs, "Please, Soobin, please, no no no no no!"

"Yeonjun, please calm down," Soobin said tenderly, "I'm not going to do anything! Hey, please don't be scared." Despite Soobin's attempts to calm him, Yeonjun continued crying violently, shouting protests, clinging to the other in fear.

"Come on," Soobin said, growing tired of the older man's outburst. "Get up." Soobin stood, supporting Yeonjun's weight as he did so.

"I don't want to!" Yeonjun screamed, though he allowed Soobin to pull him to his feet.

"There's no avoiding it, hyung," Soobin soothed him. "Come on. Just trust me, okay?"

Yeonjun looked up at Soobin, his eyes red and blurry from crying.

Soobin smiled down at him. "Good, see, it's just me. Just Soobin. Just be good and listen to me like always, okay? I promise it'll be alright."

Yeonjun didn't know why, but he let Soobin take his hand and guide him to the lit portion of the room. It was Yeonjun's worst nightmare– exactly like the video feed, but so much more terrible somehow, seeing him in person, tied up and bloody, unmoving and limp.

"Beomgyu's been waiting to meet you," Soobin said, dragging Yeonjun even closer to his victim. "Go on, Gyu," Soobin said sweetly, approaching the other boy and brushing his bangs out of his eyes before removing the gag in his mouth, "Say hello to Yeonjun."

The boy, who was apparently still alive, turned his head slightly, meeting Yeonjun's eyes, and let out a low moan.

"Gyu," Soobin scolded, and the boy looked up at him, meeting his eyes. Yeonjun wondered how long he had been here and what Soobin had done to get him to respond without protest.

"Don't pout," Soobin said, "Yeonjun is a friend. Say hello to him nicely."

Beomgyu let out another groan, but when Soobin's gaze went cold, he turned to Yeonjun quickly. "Please, h– help me," he whimpered.

Yeonjun tensed, terrified of how Soobin would react to the boy's plea, but to his surprise, Soobin merely chuckled.

"He likes you." Soobin giggled, "That's so sweet." He patted Beomgyu's head affectionately, like a dog who had obeyed his master's command.

"Soobin, please," Yeonjun begged, "Why are you doing this?"

Soobin furrowed his brow. "For you," he replied simply. Yeonjun watched as Soobin crossed to a small table covered in– oh God, Yeonjun did not want to know what Soobin used those things for– and picked up a small carving knife. To Yeonjun's horror he crossed to him, placing it gently in Yeonjun's palm. He leaned down and whispered sweetly in Yeonjun's ear, "You said you wanted to run away with me, to give up everything to be with me. Isn't that what you wanted?" Yeonjun stared at him in horror as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, snapping a photo of Yeonjun, knife in hand, with Beomgyu trembling behind him.

"Go on," Soobin coaxed him, "Give up everything."

Yeonjun glanced down at the knife which glinted in the light as he turned it over in his hand. He was an addict– one who had no idea how dangerous the drug was when he had been enticed by it– and now there was surely no way for him to quit. But, as he weighed the knife in his hand and looked back up at Soobin, just like an addict, he had no desire to get sober. He wanted to chase the high until it killed him.

He felt a rush of adrenaline course through his veins as he approached Beomgyu. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as Gyu began to whimper and whine, thrashing in an attempt to free himself from his restraints.

"Hey, calm down," Yeonjun said, cupping the boy's chin in his hand. He stopped thrashing and met Yeonjun's eyes, his expression desperate. "You're pretty," Yeonjun cooed at Gyu, who responded only with an anguished expression.

"Isn't he?" Soobin agreed, appearing behind Yeonjun. "Go on," he whispered enticingly in his ear, "Make him prettier."

Yeonjun lifted his shaking hand and pressed the knife to Beomgyu's skin, just below his collarbone. From the look of it, Soobin directed most of his attention to the boy's thighs and lower abdomen, but the skin around his chest was fairly unmarked. His hands were shaking slightly as he pressed the knife in slowly, just enough to draw blood.

"Good," Soobin cooed, as Gyu let out an anguished squeal. "Do I need to shut you up?" Soobin barked at Beomgyu, who shook his head aggressively, biting his lip to contain his screams as Yeonjun began to carve into his chest.

9

Beomgyu was shaking, but he remained mostly silent as Yeonjun worked.

9

Soobin kissed Yeonjun's neck, sending a familiar wave of comfort over his entire body.

0

"You're doing such a good job, hyung," Soobin cooed between gentle kisses.

9

Beomgyu let out a defeated groan, eliciting a slap on the thigh from Soobin which made him scream, but shut him up afterward.

1

"Oh, you really are a good boy, aren't you?" Soobin smiled widely, admiring Yeonjun's handiwork.

3

"So poetic," Soobin took the knife from Yeonjun's hand as he finished the final number. Beomgyu's eyes widened, but he let out a relieved groan as Soobin placed the knife back on the table, rather than continue his torment. "Do you like him?" Soobin asked expectantly, nodding toward Beomgyu.

"Yes," Yeonjun admitted, high and shaking from adrenaline and Soobin's praise.

A smile broke across the younger boy's face, "I'm so glad," he said, relieved. "You did so well! That's enough for now." He crossed to Beomgyu and was met with little protest as he replaced the gag in his mouth before taking Yeonjun's hands in his own. "We're going to be so happy together," Soobin said, leaning down to kiss the older boy. Yeonjun felt that familiar wave of heat run through his body as Soobin locked their lips, his brain drowning out Gyu's muffled, desperate cries as he melted into Soobin's arms.