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Minho didn't remember much about the first time he took the life of another. Some things, though, clung to his memory like a silken cloak. What he did remember was the force required as the knife traveled through the air, swung with enough malice to break the first layer of skin. The weapon, sharp enough to defy the measure of resistance as it ripped through sinew and muscle, lodging into fortified bone. The pleading as the victim fought for the last rays of light before it was snuffed out by Minho’s own hands. These were the things that remained, skittering over his brain matter like an infestation.
It wasn't something he had a tendency towards, not at first. He had never sought to harm anyone–not until provoked. His path was cemented at the sound of the first sob, when never-ending tears fell from his brother’s brown eyes, filled with the kind of hurt that takes years to heal.
Minho couldn’t forget. He certainly couldn’t forgive. He'd always had a tendency to be protective of his baby brother–getting into fights in school and sabotaging dates with men who wished him ill. He hadn't been fast enough to prevent this, though.
Felix’s boyfriend—now an ex-boyfriend, Minho supposed—sealed his fate the second he raised his voice and his fists at Felix in Minho’s presence. He tried to let it go. He really did. However, Felix was too kind. Too soft a soul to truly sever his ties from a leech like that. So, Minho did it for him.
He didn't even feel bad. The man had put up quite the fight, but he was no match for Minho. Not only did he possess skills in multiple martial arts, but he had been practicing boxing lately. Those details, combined with the unfettered rage he felt towards the man, made it easy.
Minho hauled his lifeless form a few towns away, weighed his body down with rocks, and watched as his corpse sank to the bottom of the lake. Only then did he finally breathe a long sigh of relief. He'd never allow something like that to happen to Felix again.
He didn't like lying to his brother, but it was a small price to pay to have Felix smile again. If the truth ever came to light, Minho hoped Felix would understand. He would make him understand.
Minho hadn't known at that moment the way his violence would alter him. He'd never desired to kill before, and when the craving returned it was all consuming.
He craved the complete control he had over his victim. The way that every single breath, tear, and cry was completely at his mercy. He enjoyed balancing their life on a wire's edge and knowing that only he had the power to take it.
Minho knew he couldn’t act on it though, finding other ways to manage his new vice.
He didn't need things getting messy. Felix had just moved home and started working at his bakery, still recovering from the “loss” of his boyfriend. He'd needed a place to stay, and Minho was more than happy to have him.
He went back to living as if nothing had happened, managing his bakery, keeping a careful eye on Felix, and doing his best to keep the violent itch residing just under his skin at bay.
He hadn't expected anything to change. He never planned to kill again.
Until he did.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
The same laugh had been filling his ears for almost a month now, low and melodic, the sweetest melody he'd ever heard. They'd spoken only a few times, Minho preferring to keep his distance. However, Felix, ever the ray of sunshine, had become fast friends with their new regular–Han Jisung.
The name tasted like honey the first time it rolled off of Minho’s tongue, so sugary it almost made him shudder. He'd never been one to crave sweets, but that was before he met Jisung. The brunette had bounced over from where he sat to greet Minho, his round eyes gleaming. There had been no going back after that. Minho was smitten.
Where Minho was composed of sharp edges and harsh lines, Jisung had round cheeks and a smile so wide it exposed his gums. Minho had never seen anyone more beautiful, if that word could even capture all that Jisung embodied.
Jisung visited every day during his break between classes. He was a music major in his second year, and he’d confided to Felix that he couldn't focus on campus. Minho didn't mind, and Felix was over the moon at the prospect of having a new friend.
Minho never said much to Jisung, though at times, he’d meet the younger’s eyes from across the room and see a small smile lifting Jisung’s chubby cheeks before he looked away. He was sure Jisung didn't think much of him at all. He had certainly noticed things about Jisung, though.
Like the way he always ordered his coffee black, but requested the sweetest pastry to accompany it. How he hummed while he worked, his sneaker-clad feet always tapping to an imaginary tune. Or how Jisung always had at least one item on him in the shape of a daisy. Whether it be a clip in his hair, a key chain, embroidered on his clothing, or his shoelaces tied to resemble the flower.
The blossom suited Jisung, quickly becoming a welcome sight to Minho's eyes as well. For the first time, Minho visited the flower shop in town, buying vases and daisies to adorn each table in the cafe. It became a habit, a way for Minho to keep Jisung close even when he wasn't in the store.
The younger man's eyes lit up so adorably the first time he'd seen them. “My favorite,” he'd said, grinning towards Minho with that plump bottom lip tucked between his teeth. That lip that Minho had memorized, traced so thoroughly with his eyes until it was permanently seared into his memory.
However, Minho’s favorite habit of Jisung’s was his habit of reapplying his lipstick after he ate. The older’s eyes tracked the pigment as it colored his pouty bottom lip, plump and pretty pink, a shade Minho couldn't quite place.
He often found himself desiring to sink his teeth into the flesh of that very lip, biting down until he could paint Jisung's beautiful mouth with a deeper shade of red.
Day after day, Jisung graced him with his presence in the cafe and then proceeded to haunt Minho’s thoughts well into the night. He’d never been so absolutely transfixed by another. Sure, he’d interacted with people he found attractive before, but none held his attention for more than a matter of hours.
It wasn’t Jisung’s beauty alone that ensnared him. His entire essence had Minho salivating, his heart beating quicker like a Pavlovian response at the sound of the midday bell.
Minho’s desire grew by the day, a large and hulking beast that lurked in his every moment. And Jisung’s lips. That stunning color. Minho needed to know the shade so he could paint his walls in the same hue, anything to have another part of Jisung always with him.
He resisted as long as he could, but if he was honest with himself, he always knew that he’d cross the line. Jisung was the type that made it easy–so trusting and warm. The opportunity came quicker than he'd anticipated.
Felix had stepped out to take a call, leaving Minho and Jisung alone in the cafe for once. It wasn’t tense, but perhaps a bit strange to be without Felix. The younger cleared his throat before making eye contact with Minho.
“Hyung, I’m going to the restroom. Could you watch my bag please?” His voice was soft and sweet. Minho nodded quickly, there was nothing he wouldn't do for Jisung, even if Jisung didn't know yet the extent of his devotion. Before he knew it, Minho was alone with Jisung’s bag.
He acted on an impulse he didn’t even know he had within him, skillful and careful. Minho had no right to invade his privacy like this, he knew that, but he didn’t have the time to care. He wanted to know everything about Jisung.
Minho dug into his bag with nimble fingers, plucking out the very lipstick that had been plaguing him. He scrambled for a pad of paper and a pen, scrawling down the brand and shade.
Dusty Rose.
He quickly returned the makeup item back to its place in Jisung’s bag. He briefly thought about leaving it at that, but a part of his brain resisted, small but impossible to ignore. He might not get a chance like this again. Minho plucked Jisung’s wallet out of his bag, smiling fondly to himself when he found it to be covered in a daisy design. Minho adored him. He opened the wallet, observing a library card, various membership cards, and a few wrinkled bills.
He found his true prize in the information on his student I.D.: a picture of a much younger Jisung, his phone number and his on-campus apartment’s address. Minho didn’t intend to use the information, he just wanted it for emergencies. He copied them down under the lipstick shade before tucking everything away exactly as he’d found it and busying himself with something under the counter.
“Thank you, Minho-hyung.” Jisung smiled at him as he returned to his seat from the restroom. He settled in, returning to his previous task, none the wiser.
Minho wanted to thank him right back.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
It wasn’t an easy feat, but Minho managed to find himself a flawless hiding spot, concealed from any wandering eyes. He was dignified, crouched with a perfect view into the dorm window. He told himself, after arguing and debating with himself the entire week, that this was perfectly acceptable behavior. Jisung needed someone to look after him. Just that afternoon, he’d nearly stumbled over his own two feet into a customer carrying two steaming hot lattes.
Minho had to resist the urge to leap over the counter and cradle him to his chest even in a near accident. He couldn’t stand the thought of Jisung living on his own, vulnerable, naive, and so incredibly innocent.
Jisung needed Minho.
The younger looked as pretty and soft as ever, his hair pushed back from his face with a hair band that had little bear ears. Minho had been impatient while he waited for Jisung to emerge from the bathroom, undoubtedly taking his time to complete his skincare and hair care.
Now the younger lay sprawled on his comforter as he played on his phone.
The entire experience was rather uneventful, but it soothed Minho to the very core of his being; made him feel all bubbly inside at the sheer intimacy of his encounter. And the best part of it all: Jisung was happy and safe.
And Minho got to see him in a way that no one else did.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
It became an addiction. Minho felt as though he could hardly breathe if he didn't see Jisung at least once a day, whether Jisung knew he was being seen or not.
Jisung was the focal point of his entire existence, every north star and compass in Minho's mind leading straight to him.
Sometimes Minho would sit outside his window for hours just listening to Jisung sing softly while he strummed on his acoustic guitar. He learned a lot about Jisung by watching, like how he often talked on the phone with his friends even though he preferred the company of his bed, how the songs he wrote himself were always a touch sadder, or how he loved to learn–watching every documentary on a topic before dropping it completely. It was extremely charming.
On the rare occasion that Jisung left his apartment, Minho would follow him casually. He never entered Jisung's space though, never touching him or stepping into his room–certain boundaries he wouldn't violate quite yet.
His obsession only grew deeper, and soon it wasn't enough. He could only get so close to Jisung like this, and the unknowns of his day were infuriating, gnawing at Minho’s psyche like a parasite.
He couldn't just stroll onto Jisung’s campus, so he enrolled in a class as an excuse to be closer to Jisung more often. He'd told Felix that he needed to renew his business license, the younger never doubting him. They hired a part-time employee to cover during the times Minho had to leave, and Felix loved the fresh face.
Everything was good. Felix was happy. Jisung was safe. Minho's violent tendencies had been silenced, his mind fully encompassed with thoughts of honey skin and round, shining eyes. Things were going well.
For a time.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
Minho found that he enjoyed being on campus. There were so many people around at any given time that he could bleed seamlessly into the background. He hadn't mentioned his student status, and Jisung hadn't seemed to notice him hanging around.
It was good he had Minho to watch out for him. The younger's instincts were terrible. Minho couldn’t count the number of times he'd watched him stumble over his own feet or knock items over.
Minho had taken to following Jisung, always positioning himself out of Jisung's line of sight. He was surrounded by his classwork, clad in a hoodie, facemask and beanie. Even if Jisung looked directly at him, he probably still wouldn't recognize him from this distance.
It had been a peaceful day. Minho was just about to pack up and head home when it happened.
Jisung's disposition morphed completely, his smile dropping to a worried purse of his lips as a tall man approached him. Minho instantly disliked the man, his skin itching just from the sight of him.
Jisung attempted to smile at the stranger, but it didn't reach his eyes. He almost looked frightened. Minho could feel his blood begin to simmer.
The man sneered at Jisung as he approached. “I see the teacher's pet is busy toiling away in hopes of earning our professor's favor.” He spat meanly. “Why do you care so much, anyway? Do you want him to fuck you? Freak.”
Minho watched, barely holding himself back from leaping on the man right then and there. How dare he speak to Jisung like that? Jisung shrank in on himself, looking even smaller than usual under the man’s gaze, almost miniscule.
“I-I,” Jisung started. He sounded defeated, like he was used to this. Minho bit his cheek until he tasted blood. “I’m not–”
Jisung got interrupted by the man very purposefully dumping the remainder of his coffee directly onto Jisung’s laptop. He flippantly tossed his cup onto the table by Jisung before laughing and walking away. The younger just sat there, dazedly watching as the dark liquid spread over his belongings. His laptop would be ruined.
There was no hesitation as Minho stood, packed his things and was on his feet immediately. His mind filled with static and his body moved as if on its own. He set his sights on the man who had tormented Jisung, walking fast enough to catch up to the man. He purposefully bumped his shoulder harshly, making his belongings drop to the ground.
Minho painted an apologetic smile onto his features, picking up a few items and handing them to the man. “Sorry about that. Lee Minho,” he introduced.
“Choi Jungmin,” he responded politely. What a fucking worm. His voice alone felt like nails on a chalkboard in Minho's mind.
Minho's smile dropped instantly, his cold eyes glaring at him. He had no use for pleasantries now that he had acquired the information he desired. He stood staring into Jungmin's eyes as he dropped all the items he'd collected carelessly onto the ground again. He walked away quickly, eager to get back to the bakery.
Minho saw red for the rest of the day.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
He tried to ignore it. However, the scene had replayed over and over again in his mind. Jisung’s sad face materialized, shooing away all common sense. By the time he returned to the coffee shop, he was agitated and on edge. Rest wasn't an option. His entire being screamed at him to take action–to fix the problem. He needed to exterminate the roach that dared to even breathe the same air as Jisung. He wasn't worthy.
He had to wait, though. He needed the cover of nightfall. To pass the hours he drafted a plan. In the back of his mind, he knew this was wrong. It was insane. But now that the thoughts had taken hold, he couldn’t shake them. He would fix it. He would do anything to keep Jisung safe.
He'd planned it all out carefully. The last time he killed, it was rash and careless. This time though, Minho had time. Every piece of the night was selected with care to create a shrine in Jisung’s honor. Nothing would prevent his daisy from blooming. The final pieces, a white daisy, the prettiest one of the lot, a piece of parchment, and a duplicate of Jisung’s lipstick.
In a way, he wanted Jisung to know that this was all for him. Minho would stage a scene of complete devotion to the younger. There were no lengths he wouldn't go to. Jisung wasn't a freak, like the man had called him before. Minho wanted to send a message, doing a quick search before settling on the word he would leave behind.
When the cafe closed, he grabbed everything he would need and loaded it into a backpack. He then set out into the cold night air. No force of earth could stop what he'd set in motion now.
It wasn't hard to find Choi Jungmin. Once Minho had his name, all he'd had to do was some simple digging. A quick search informed Minho that he was the star of their track team. Some additional digging supplied him with the calendar for the sports practices, the location included. It was far too easy.
He waited, hood up and mask on, until the practice ended. He knew most of the team members would walk back to their dorms, the field wasn't far enough away to warrant driving and most students didn't even have a car on campus.
When he spotted his target, he waited a full minute until he started off, keeping his eyes trained to the back of his head the entire time. The darkness covered him, and as long as he didn't get too close or make too much noise, he would be fine.
Minho picked up his pace when they neared the dorms. He only had a small window of time to make this work, and he was determined to do so.
At this point all of Jungmin's teammates had dispersed, leaving just Minho and his unsuspecting prey. Just as the man was about to close his door, Minho dashed, pushing it back open and closing it quietly behind him. He didn't go unnoticed, though.
“Who the fuck are you?” Jungmin spat. He'd whirled to face the door, his eyes narrowed. So hostile, unaware that these were his last moments. Minho could almost feel the satisfaction of watching him take his last breath, the sputtering weak attempt at bringing life back into his lungs. It filled him with a secret delight, the itch festering, ever present.
Minho had to hold back a shiver of anticipation. He needed to be patient. Careful. He could risk his cover if he got too hasty, and he needed to remain unsuspecting to be able to keep Felix and Jisung safe.
Minho didn't answer him, just smirked. He only felt more smug joy as Jungmin became visibly angry. Minho huffed a laugh, he didn't even have to make the first move, this idiot was going to do it for him.
He waited until the man threw his body weight forward, attempting to punch Minho in the face. Minho dodged him easily, lunging forward just enough to slam his shoulder into Jungmin's chest, sending him toppling backwards. All the muscle Jungmin had from sports was rendered useless under Minho's targeted attack.
He was on him like lightning. He was careful not to leave marks as he wrapped his gloved hand around Jungmin's neck and pushed. Jungmin fought back, but it was no use. Minho was much stronger than him and full of unyielding rage. He squeezed, applying more force until Jungmin's eyes became glassy and his arms dropped to his sides, unconscious.
Now, it was time for the real fun to begin. Minho set the stage, changing the man into leisure clothing, pulling an empty notebook and a new pencil out, and preparing his gift to Jisung. He wanted the scene to look like a suicide. At first glance the police would see an athlete that had succumbed to the pressure of life. They wouldn't find his token to Jisung until later, giving him a few days to revel in his success.
He pulled out the small piece of parchment and wrote the word ‘happiness’ on it using the dusty rose lipstick he'd purchased. It was one of the meanings of Jisung’s favorite flower, and the perfect symbol of Minho's intent. Killing Jungmin would secure Jisung’s happiness. After Minho erased him, he would never make Jisung sad again. The final touch was attaching the parchment to the beautiful white daisy.
He placed it inside the mirrored vanity, right where the prescription drugs he knew he'd find had been sitting. He swapped them out before closing the vanity. Medical records were surprisingly easy to acquire. Everything was going exactly as he'd planned.
Before the man awoke, Minho tilted his head back and forced him to swallow all but two of the prescription medication, then carelessly let the bottle with the remaining two drop along with the, now empty, water bottle. Setting the scene of a man intending to take his own life.
Then Minho waited. When Jungmin awoke, he wasn't in his right mind. He was frightened and confused, his own body out of his control. He couldn't even see straight, completely at Minho’s mercy. He shushed him when he started to babble, his words slurred and panicked.
“Quiet, we just need to write a little note and then you can sleep,” Minho demanded. He put the pencil into the man's hand and shoved the notebook towards him.
He fed each word to him and Jungmin wrote, clearly not aware enough to make the words into a comprehensive sentence in his brain due to the drugs. The words were messy and almost unintelligible, but they would do.
When he was done, Minho lifted him, his body mostly dead weight at this point, too confused to fight, and placed him in the bathtub. He kept him calm, cooing at him and assuring he was going to get help as the water ran, a comfortable temperature so as not to shock him. Minho didn't want any signs of struggle.
Then, when the water was deep enough, he submerged the man's head and held it under the water. Minho found himself smiling in satisfaction. The last thing Jungmin would ever see was the sight of Minho as he drowned him. A fitting death for a leach like him. Minho positioned the note on the table near the pill bottle, the scene now complete.
Jungmin would never bother Jisung again.
❀
🩸🌼 Jisung
The past few days have been full of strange occurrences. The news of Jungmin’s suicide had traveled through the school like wildfire, and Jisung was still coming to terms with it.
He wasn't sad–not in the slightest. In fact, he was relieved. Maybe it made him a bad person, but his biggest bully not being around anymore was one of the best things that had happened to him this year.
Of course, there were rumors that is wasn't a suicide and that someone killed Jungmin. Jisung just rolled his eyes at them. What a crazy theory. People were always using these events to gain attention.
Best of all, he'd received a new laptop in the mail from an anonymous address. It was unexpected, but Jisung wasn't one to question a good thing too much. It even had daisy stickers tucked into the package. He'd adorned his new computer with care, squealing at how cute it looked.
He was in an undoubtedly good mood when he packed his bag and made his way to the cafe. He needed his caffeine fix and he'd grown attached to the little cafe down the street. He pushed the door open, grinning and humming along to his headphones. Felix greeted him happily, just like always, bounding over to him to help set up his table.
“Hi Lixie.” He grinned. The sweet blonde had quickly become one of his favorite people. They just seemed to mesh together.
“Hi Sung! The usual?” His deep voice questioned. Jisung nodded. “Cheesecake if you have it.” Jisung smiled to himself as he watched the blonde skip away. They always had cheesecake from the first day Jisung had requested it. He tried not to let it get to his head, but he was extremely flattered.
Felix had stopped, leaning on the counter to input the order. “Minho!” he called out. “Our favorite customer is here!”
The brunette man stepped out from the back, smiling warmly and nodding at Jisung. He still wasn't used to how handsome Minho was, his heart fluttering each time they interacted.
“Hi hyung,” he said, not able to completely hide his blush. He averted his eyes, looking around the store. They stopped when he found a vase full of pink carnations instead of daisies on the tables. “No more daisies?” he couldn't help the pout that formed as he looked back at Minho. He'd grown accustomed to seeing them, and he couldn't deny that he was a bit disappointed.
Minho chuckled, warm and rich, like smooth cashmere. His expression was apologetic when he spoke. “I know, those are your favorite, I'm sorry. The flower shop was having a sale on carnations, though.”
“They are still pretty…but daisies are better,” Jisung grinned. He supposed he couldn't be too picky, it wasn't like the daisies were there for him anyway.
“I'll be sure to keep that in mind,” Minho nodded. Jisung watched as he disappeared behind the counter to make Jisung’s order. It always tasted best when Minho made it. Extra sweet, just how he liked it.
Soon he emerged, placing an iced americano and a lush looking slice of chocolate cheesecake in front of him. Jisung’s eyes widened in awe at the treat.
“Hyung!” he exclaimed before stuffing a bite into his mouth, nearly moaning at the sweet, creamy flavor. “Did you make this?”
“I did. And there's more if you want to take a slice home with you today,” Minho smiled. “On the house, of course.”
“Marry me?” Jisung sighed dreamily. A joke, but the cheesecake really was that good.
“Hey, hey!” Felix laughed. “Gross! No proposing to my brother. I can make good cheesecake too!”
Minho ruffled the blonde’s hair, smiling fondly. “Not as good as mine, though!” Then he disappeared into the back room again. Jisung couldn't help but miss his presence, something about the man captivated him.
Jisung sighed happily, settling into his seat to start on an assignment. Today had been the best he'd had in a long while. He couldn't help the small smile that grew on his face as he worked.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
As far as Minho could tell, the police had ruled Choi Jungmin’s death a suicide. Just as he'd planned. The daisy was the one piece of the puzzle they couldn't figure out, and Minho intended to keep it that way. That's why he'd switched the store's flowers to carnations the next day. It was too risky to keep that connection, even though he hated to see the pout on Jisung’s face. He still kept a few daisies in his room, though. To remind him of Jisung.
Minho adored him. He couldn't help but worry about him, though. As far as he could tell, the younger only ate one real meal a day on average and supplemented the rest with snacks and sweets. It was no wonder he was so sleepy all the time. Minho, of course, took it upon himself to cook extra each night, insisting that Felix send the leftovers home with Jisung each day.
Minho had continued to visit his window at night, just to listen and be comforted that he was safe. Jisung seemed happier since his bully had been taken care of. He hadn't intended to make a habit of it. Things were better for him, safer, when he ignored the itch. He found though, for Jisung, he'd kill again without hesitation. He'd do anything. He'd risk himself and everything he'd built just to keep Jisung happy.
Even things Jisung needed, but didn't realize, Minho took care of. He never had to be without. Minho sent anonymous packages to be delivered as needed.
Taking care of Jisung filled his days, his obsession only growing by the day.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
Things were good for a few weeks. Peaceful. Jisung came to the cafe each day, and Minho watched him on campus or through his window–however he could. As often as he could. Even though things had been quiet, Minho still found himself picking the prettiest daisy from the vase in his room each morning and tucking it into a bag in his backpack along with the lipstick. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but it comforted him knowing that little tokens of his dedication to Jisung were on his person. Or, maybe, subconsciously, it made him feel better to be prepared just in case the need presented itself.
The next incident happened unexpectedly. Something had slipped through Minho’s carefully woven net of protection around Jisung. Minho had been walking to his class when it happened, the sound of the slap echoing across the campus courtyard.
When he looked over, he felt a surge of protective rage wrap around him. A girl had slapped Jisung across the face, her ring cutting into the soft skin of his cheek. Minho had to bite his cheek until he tasted iron to keep from jumping on the bitch right then. The ever-present beast reared its head, ready to sink its teeth in and tear the flesh from her bones.
“Stay away from my boyfriend, whore!” She spat. Her words were ice cold, nearly venomous. The worst part was, Jisung’s injury was completely unnecessary. He would have known if Jisung had slept with anyone–and he hadn’t. At that moment, Minho decided. He wanted to make her cry, to hear her beg for her life as he ripped it away from her.
Jisung looked genuinely confused. “W-what?”
“I heard my boyfriend say he wants to fuck you. Do you even know how embarrassing that is for me? Stay out of my sight and away from my boyfriend. I know you've been coming on to him, there's no way he'd pick you otherwise,” she sneered.
Minho knew Jisung hadn't been coming on to her boyfriend at all. Minho knew most things Jisung did and didn't get up to. Before Jisung could respond she spat on his face, turning and stomping off.
Minho saw red, nearly crushing his laptop in his grip. Pure unfiltered rage coursed through him. This time, he already knew her name. Park Doyun. This one he'd seen around campus, always being cruel to someone. A mere speck, tarnishing every place she went. No one would miss her, Minho least of all.
Against all rationale, he ignored his other duties, telling Felix he had to stay late for a study group. Him and their part-time employee could surely manage to close up shop tonight. Besides, he didn’t intend to waste any more time than necessary taking care of her. He trailed behind her the rest of the day, being sure to keep his distance, until the sun was low in the sky.
Doyun had to stay late on campus that day for cheer practice. A quick bout of eavesdropping supplied him with all he’d ever need to know and more. She was careless, clueless that anything bad could ever happen to her. She had made the mistake of walking through the halls alone to get a book she'd forgotten before heading to her dorm, unaware of the threat looming.
Minho walked by her, nonchalant before turning once her back was to him. He hadn’t had time to plan it out as thoroughly as he’d wished this time. However, an idea for a fitting death crawled into his mind as he surveyed their surroundings. The two of them were all alone in the building, and they were on the third story–a fall from this height would surely do the trick.
Before he could overthink it, he charged, pushing her over the railing to the atrium, her body plummeting so fast she didn't even have time to scream. He watched with satisfaction as she flailed helplessly, unable to save herself from her fate. She hit the ground with a sickening crunch, her body mangled and bloody.
Minho made his way slowly down the stairs, slowly, not in a hurry at all. He wanted her to suffer for as long as possible. Each step echoed off the campus walls menacingly.
“H-help,” she whined softly. She hadn’t seen who pushed her, and she was probably hoping that he was coming to help her–how wrong she’d be. When he finally made it to the bottom, the sight excited him, the itch finally being scratched. Her body was twisted grotesquely and a large pool of blood seeped from a wound on her head. She would die of her injuries, but that wasn’t good enough. Minho crouched over her, his cold eyes assessing her wounds and the state she was in.
She reached her arm out weakly to him. Minho laughed coldly before swatting her hand away. He fixed his stare on her, cocking his head to the side as he spoke. “Aww, are you in pain? That looks pretty bad.” He clicked his tongue before standing up. “Seems really serious.” He intended to make it worse–truly make her suffer before he let her die. He stomped on her mangled arm, grinding his foot into the limb until she screamed and he could feel the bones crunching under his feet. He felt vindicated.
She tried to speak again but all that came out was a gurgle as she coughed up a mouthful of blood. Her eyes had filled with terror and Minho was sure if she could speak she would be begging for her life. It both filled him with delight and disgusted him. Now, it was time for him to remove her worthless life from existence. He raised his foot and stomped harshly on her skull, the previous wound giving way with a sickening crack. She was finally quiet now. It suited her.
Minho removed his shoes and put them into a plastic bag to dispose of properly later. He had taken to bringing latex gloves with him everywhere that he borrowed from the cafe, and they proved more than useful. He slid them on before pulling the daisy he'd brought with him, along with a piece of parchment and the lipstick. He contemplated what message he wanted to convey as he watched the blood seep from her body. Jisung was like sunlight–warm, comforting. She had no right to darken his skies. He scrawled ‘sunshine’ onto the parchment in the dusty rose lipstick, attaching it to the daisy.
His gift for Jisung was beautiful–a testament to his undying devotion to protecting his light.
Minho walked back home quickly, not wanting to linger for too long. He’d already spent too much time admiring his makeshift shrine. He slept well knowing his personal sunshine was just a bit safer after tonight.
❀
🩸🌼 Jisung
It had to be a coincidence, right? Jisung could hardly focus the whole day, his thoughts consumed by the news he’d heard that morning. First Jungmin and now Doyun. Jungmin truly seemed like it was an open and shut case if he’d ever seen one. However, with the discovery of Doyun, the police were changing their tune. Hell, Jisung was changing his tune.
The two crime scenes couldn’t have been more different and yet–one small detail tied them together.
A daisy. White in color, just the same as Jisung’s favorite flower. He didn’t allow himself to believe it was connected to him, why would he? Tons of people loved daisies, that wasn’t something unique to just him. However, the timing had been very specific. Jisung had been bullied by both of them just hours before each of their deaths, and then a daisy at the scene of the crime?
Even then, a more damning bit of connection tied the crimes to Jisung. His lipstick shade had been used to write the notes at the scene. ‘Happiness’ and ‘sunshine’, two meanings behind the very flower that Jisung loved. Whoever did this certainly did some research first. He felt incredibly self-absorbed even thinking about the possibility that this had anything to do with him, but he couldn’t deny that a small part of him delighted in the idea.
Surely it had nothing to do with him, though. Just two freak coincidences.
The police had asked him to come in for questioning, of course, they’d be stupid not to. Multiple students reported seeing the conflict between them. However, Jisung had solid alibis, he was at the cafe with Felix or at home on video call with his family. They released him and asked him to let them know if any strange things happened around him. It’s not like he was the only one they questioned, so Jisung decided to let it go.
He decided not to dwell on it any longer. It was time to go to the cafe anyway, and he was salivating at the thought of a new flavor of cheesecake Minho promised to make.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
“You have to come with me, Jisung!” Felix whined, his best puppy dog eyes fixed on the man. “Please, Minho is a big meanie and said he won't go.”
Jisung glanced at Minho, something unreadable in his eyes, before looking back to Felix. He felt a wave of possessiveness wash over him. There was no way Minho would allow Jisung to go to a college frat party without his supervision. He would simply say he wasn't going and then keep a watchful eye. He didn’t want to ruin their fun, just keep them both safe.
“I don't know, Lixie,” Jisung said. “I have a lot of homework to get done.” He looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. Minho understood the feeling, saying ‘no’ to Felix was no easy feat.
“Just for a few hours! If you don't like it we'll leave, okay? I promise,” Felix begged. Jisung eventually gave in and allowed himself to be dragged into their apartment above the cafe to get ready.
Minho sighed and donned his usual hoodie and mask. He hesitated when he saw his backpack, packed and ready for another “incident” should one occur. After a few moments of deliberation he grabbed it to take with him.
Who knew what the night would hold.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
The smell of cheap cigarettes and alcohol assaulted his nose from where he sat in the corner. Sweaty bodies and dim lighting made keeping his eye on Jisung a challenge, but he managed. He could find Jisung anywhere.
Despite not wanting to go, he and Felix seemed to be having a blast. They were both multiple drinks in and grinding against each other, giggling and putting on a show. Minho dug his nails into the meat of his palm until it stung as he watched. He burned with enormous envy each time a stranger so much as glanced at Jisung. When a man dared to put his filthy hands on Jisung’s waist Minho nearly bit his lip clean off. Luckily, Felix swatted away any wandering hands from Jisung.
All went well for the majority of the night. Jisung got to have a fun night out, and Minho got to watch, making sure he was safe and sound while he did so. He had to admit that Jisung’s look for the party had his cock threatening to fill in his boxers and his hands itching to touch. He’d never seen so much exposed skin on the younger and he could feel the saliva pooling behind his teeth with each sway of Jisung’s hips.
Eventually, Minho rose from his spot to relieve his bladder, trusting Felix to keep his eye on the situation. That turned out to be a mistake, though, seeing as when he returned Felix was nowhere to be seen and Jisung had been cornered by none other than Kang Donghyun, Doyun’s boyfriend. He was visibly distraught, probably upset over the loss of his worthless girlfriend. He was also clearly inebriated and had his hands all over Jisung. Minho’s Jisung.
Minho felt the familiar violent itch in his bones, but he held it back. Making too much of a scene would only make things messy. For now, he would simply get closer. However, what he heard only enraged him further.
“Donghyun, please,” Jisung whimpered. “Let me go, please. You’re drunk. Please don’t do this.”
“Little twink like you, dressed like a whore,” Donghyun slurred. “You’re practically begging to be fucked. Don’t worry, my cock will fill you just right, baby.”
Minho felt bile form in the back of his throat. What a disgusting maggot. He had no right to touch Jisung with his filthy hands. Jisung struggled to push past the man, tears forming in his pretty eyes. Minho started his trek towards the pair but stopped when Felix reemerged.
“There you are, Ji!” He called. “What the fuck are you doing, Donghyun? Get the fuck away from him. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Felix stomped on the man’s foot with his heeled boot and dug in until he stepped back. Minho had never been prouder of his baby brother.
“No need to be hostile, baby,” Donghyun slurred. “There is plenty of me for both of you.”
Felix gagged and rolled his eyes. “C’mon Jisung, let’s get out of here.” He pulled Jisung by the hand and drug him to the door, glaring at anyone who looked at them too long.
“Fucking prudes,” Donghyun cursed, bumping into the wall when he tried to move.
Minho tried to calm himself down with a drink, attempting to reason with the monstrous desire to inflict harm. It was futile, though. Donghyun had sealed his fate the moment he laid his disgusting hands on Jisung. Minho was already formulating a plan, and he really didn’t want to do what he was about to do, but he couldn’t let this sin go unrepented. Donghyun would pay richly for daring to so much as look at Jisung with his sickening, lustful desires.
Now that Jisung and Felix had left, he took his hood off and removed his mask before approaching the drunk man. He tasted bile as he put on his best siren eyes and saccharine sweet tone.
“What’s a big boy like you doing all alone over here?” Minho purred. Donghyun turned to look at him, his eyes widening before trailing sleazily over Minho’s face and body. Minho knew even in leisure clothes he looked good.
“Well, hello there, gorgeous. I was just waiting for a sexy little thing like you to find me,” the man said, slurring over half the words. He was truly repulsive and he stank of alcohol, but Minho forced on his best acting facade.
“Well now that you’ve found me should we go somewhere-” Minho trailed his eyes along the man’s body and bit his lip in a way that he hoped conveyed attraction. He leaned in close to whisper the last part in the man’s ear. “A little more private?”
Minho was careful not to touch him as they made their way upstairs. Not only did he want to avoid leaving any form of evidence, but the thought of making contact with the man disgusted Minho. When the lock clicked behind them, the man pushed Minho against the door, crowding him. Minho wasn’t about to actually let this pig touch him, though. “Let me freshen up in the restroom for you quick, ok, handsome?”
The man grunted but relented, allowing Minho to go to the restroom connected to the bedroom. While there, Minho took off his backpack and donned his gloves. Today he had a new tool to use that he slipped into his hoodie pocket. Minho looked at himself in the mirror for a long minute, strengthening his resolve before he exited the bathroom and went back into the bedroom. He would do this for Jisung. Donghyun sat waiting on the bed, his shoulders slumped.
“You look tense,” Minho purred, slipping onto the bed carefully behind him. Let me help you unwind, hm?” Donghyun hummed in drunken agreement. Minho ran his gloved hands over the man’s broad back, grimacing as he did since he knew the man couldn’t see him. If he noticed Minho had gloves on, he didn’t say anything.
Minho played the part for a few moments, massaging his shoulders and neck until the man was loose and unsuspecting, then he grabbed the wire he’d brought with him and wrapped it around his neck. Donghyun’s reaction time was so slow that Minho laughed aloud. “Something wrong, sweetie?” He hissed.
Donghyun attempted to fight him, his hands clawing at the wire, but his rapidly decreasing air flow combined with Minho’s weight kept him down. “Fuck you!” He managed to spit out.
“Mmm, I think that ship has sailed, don’t you?” Minho hummed. “As if I’d ever fuck a disgusting toad like you.” Minho tightened the wire, the material cutting into the man's skin harshly. He'd picked up this specific tool for fun, just in case. He was certainly thrilled with the results. Donghyun couldn’t speak anymore, not enough oxygen in his lungs. He scrambled desperately to remove the wire from his neck, once again to no avail.
“You’re going to die because you touched what doesn’t belong to you,” Minho hissed, pulling the wire tighter until the sputtering ceased, then held it longer to be sure the man was dead. He tied the wire into a tight knot before getting off the bed to retrieve his bag. He'd brought a daisy with him, of course. He looped the stem of the daisy through the wire loop. He then prepared the parchment which stated ‘innocence’ in that same dusty rose shade, and hung from the stem. It seemed like a fitting message to leave behind with this gift.
He didn't know if Jisung had figured out that these murders were gifts to him. Part of him hoped that he didn't know and was blissfully unaware. The other part of him wanted Jisung to figure it out, to follow the trail that led directly to Minho. He wondered what the younger would think. Would he be horrified or…something else?
Minho tidied the area, triple-checking that he left nothing behind, before grabbing his backpack and retreating out the window. They would get the door unlocked eventually, but he hoped to be far enough away by the time they did that he wouldn’t get caught up in the panic.
He was becoming frighteningly predictable, even to himself. Three murders in such a short span of time was incredibly risky. People needed to learn, though, not to touch what belonged to him.
When he returned to the cafe and peeked into Felix’s room, he found the two of them curled up on his bed fast asleep. He should have just gone to bed–that’s what any smart person would do. However, Minho was addicted to the thrill of risk, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He quietly snuck into the room to gaze at Jisung while he slept, his pretty mouth open slightly as he snored softly. Even like this, he was a masterpiece. Minho stroked his cheek tenderly before retreating to his own room.
He desperately wanted to touch Jisung again, more thoroughly–harder. Would Jisung like his touch, or would it frighten him? It simply wasn’t time for that yet, though. He feared if he touched Jisung like he wanted to, the man would wilt, his petals turning from a pure white to a rotten brown. He had to be patient.
❀
🩸🌼 Jisung
Jisung’s room had begun to look like a CSI agent lived there instead of a college student. He collected every article he could find, reading them all multiple times until his head had begun to spin. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the recent murders were somehow related to him, there were too many coincidences. He couldn’t gaslight himself into ignorance anymore, the evidence was far too convincing. The only questions he couldn’t sort out were who and why.
Yet another person who had bothered Jisung died hours later, a daisy and his lipstick shade at the scene yet again. In some ways it scared him–the possibility that there was someone out there willing to do such horrible acts to other humans–seemingly for him. It was so wrong and he almost felt violated.
However, another, possibly bigger part of him, was flattered. He was disgusted with himself when he finally pinned down what the feeling was–thrill, delight, excitement. Someone cared enough about him to kill for him–it was almost romantic. He hadn’t told anyone that he suspected this, mostly in fear, but also, because a part of him didn’t want anyone else to know. It was their secret, him and his mystery person.
Maybe a normal person would feel guilty–but Jisung had never exactly considered himself normal. He should be frightened. After all, it was incredibly likely that the killer was stalking him. There was no other explanation for how they knew the happenings of Jisung’s day.
Part of him wondered if he was just being conceited, his ego inflated. There wasn't anything particularly remarkable about him, after all. If Jisung were to kill for someone, he'd do it for a person who was dazzling–drop dead gorgeous, protective, with muscled thighs and a killer cheesecake recipe…
Jisung shook his head from side to side aggressively. Why would he even entertain that thought? It was probably just a fluke anyway.
That's what he tried to convince himself of, anyway. But the evidence haunted him, nudging him towards accepting the truth. He wore the same shade of lipstick left at the scene, daisies were his favorite flowers, and each victim had wronged him in some way only hours before their death.
The truth was right in front of his eyes, but he couldn't, for the life of him, think of who would go to such lengths.
If he ever did, he would give them the best head of their life before they got carted off to jail. He snorted a laugh at himself for the mere thought before turning off his light to go to sleep.
❀
🩸🌼 Jisung
It had been a quiet week, everyone returning to their dorms early each night for fear of the alleged serial killer lurking on campus. Jisung, however, walked around without fear. He even felt safer than usual, as strange as that may be.
That all came to a crashing halt when he received a text from his ex boyfriend. He froze in anxiety when he saw the familiar name flash across his screen. Jae had been his boyfriend for the better part of two years before Jisung escaped him.
He hadn't been abusive at first, showering Jisung with love and attention. However, a few months in he became extremely controlling over everything in Jisung's life. His diet, his friends, his body, his money. Jisung had been young and naive at the time and Jae was his first real relationship.
They only had sex when Jae wanted to, and he frequently pushed Jisung further than he wanted to go and ignored his pleas for him to slow down or stop.
By the time he realized how bad it was, he was isolated, malnourished, anxious, and broken. It had taken a lot to break free from him, and Jisung was still trying his best to be rid of him completely.
Jae often reached out under the guise of apologizing. If Jisung responded the man was sickeningly sweet, begging Jisung to return to him and the next minute calling him slurs for rejecting him.
Luckily he hadn't escalated things any further, and Jisung could just block the number he used that time and try to forget.
This time what Jisung saw attached to the messages sent icy fear shooting through his bloodstream. Attached were multiple photos and videos of Jisung performing sexual acts with Jae or wearing skimpy clothing. Pictures and videos Jisung had no idea Jae had taken.
His fingers shook as he stared at his phone. He just wanted this to be over. He had been on his way to the cafe for his break when the message arrived, and he blindly sprinted the rest of the way there. He was frightened and upset and he didn't want to be alone.
He crashed through the front door and right into Minho, who caught him with cat-like reflexes. He couldn't help himself as he sobbed into the man's apron, the smell of his cologne and the remnants of pastry batter comforting.
“Jisung,” Minho murmured, clearly surprised. His grip tightened in a way that almost felt possessive. Jisung had never felt safer. The older held him tight before yelling for Felix, who quickly emerged from the back, frosting smeared on his apron.
“Baby! What's wrong?” Felix cooed, taking him into his arms. Minho stepped back, but hovered nearby, his proximity soothing Jisung’s brain slightly. Felix led him to a table and got them settled, wiping Jisung’s tears with his thumbs.
Jisung pulled out his phone and shoved it into Felix’s hands. “M-m-my ex,” Jisung wailed. Felix scrolled through the messages, his face falling further with each image and video.
“This is beyond fucked up,” Felix said.
“I d-didn't know he had them. Didn't even know he took them,” Jisung whimpered. To Jisung’s horror, Minho peeked over Felix’s shoulder, his face contorting into a look Jisung had never seen before on his pretty features. Anger. No, more than anger. Rage.
“Don't worry, Jisung,” Felix soothed. “We'll call the police. You can stay here tonight.”
“What if it doesn't work? Should I give him what he wants and go meet with him?” Jisung asked, defeated.
A resounding “No” came from both brothers.
“Absolutely not,” Felix confirmed. “Cmon, let's get you cleaned up.”
Jisung allowed himself to be led upstairs, the entire way he could feel Minho’s intense eyes trained on him.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
Minho had never been angrier. He could hardly think straight, his vision blurring at the sides. He closed down the store early, setting to work to find out whatever he could about this ‘Jae’. He felt out of control, the itch turning from a gentle hum to a swarm of agitated hornets. He could almost feel their stingers piercing his flesh. Each moment that this man lived, tormenting Jisung–His Jisung–felt like a painful prick to his psyche.
Jisung's social media from two years ago was littered with pictures of them together, along with a photo that Jae was tagged in. A quick search of his profile told Minho all he needed to know. People really made it too easy for him, their entire lives laid out on the internet along with their location and job. It was like they wanted to make themselves easy targets.
Minho glared at the photos of Jae, his profile picture still a photo of him and Jisung. It made Minho sick to his stomach. How pathetic could this man be? Jisung was clearly happier without him. He slammed his laptop closed and set to work gathering his supplies. He couldn't wait for a different day. This needed to happen now.
He hatched a plan, one that would hopefully allow him entry into Jae’s house with ease. He was just another stupid flea, after all. It wouldn't be hard to trick him. After he collected everything he'd need, he locked up the store, setting his sights on his destination. He already knew which meaning of the blossom he’d be using this time–’purity’.
It was a thirty minute bus ride, but it felt like thirty seconds, Minho's mind engrossed with the thought of ending the miserable roach’s life.
He arrived at Jae's apartment in record time. Outside his apartment, he pulled off his hoodie and his pants, shoving them into the backpack, before pulling out a clean apron and pastry chef hat. He slipped them on, along with a pair of pretty red silk gloves. He'd worn a tight tank top and bike shorts under his outfit, hoping they would seal the look enough to be let inside.
He calmed himself slightly before knocking. Luckily Jae lived alone. The man that opened the door looked surprised, his eyes moving down to take in Minho's bare thighs, the shorts completely hidden by the apron.
“Did you order a stripper, puddin?” Minho purred, using his best over exaggerated sweet tone.
“Oh hell yeah.” Jae nodded. “Come on in, baby.” Too easy.
Minho forced himself to smile at the man, even though it went against every instinct in his body.
“Thanks, sugar,” Minho said, sickeningly sweet. He turned around, bending down in a way he knew would show off his thighs and ass to rifle through his bag. “Why don't you get comfortable and lose some of those clothes, hm?”
Minho grinned to himself as he heard the sound of rustling behind him. Men like Jae were so, so easy. A pig like him would get what he deserved.
Minho pulled soft ropes from his bag, not threatening at all, generally used for sexual play. They certainly would be used for much more tonight, though. He forced himself to look at Jae, his eyes lidded in a way that conveyed ‘sexy’. He wanted to snap his neck clean off his body.
Jae balked at the ropes as Minho approached him with them. “Woah woah, aren't I going to tie you up?” Like Minho would ever allow him to touch him.
“You signed up for the bondage package, sugar. Did you forget?” Minho purred. “I'm so air headed, maybe I came to the wrong address. Let me check.”
Minho moved to pull out his phone, but stopped when Jae grabbed his arm. He barely stopped his eye from twitching in rage. “No, no this is the right place! My bad.”
Minho smiled at him, sickeningly sweet. “I'm relieved. I was worried I wasn't going to get to have my way with a handsome devil like you.”
He nearly gagged on the words as he said them, but Jae seemed to be into it. Minho trailed his fingers along Jae's chest as he moved behind him, pulling his arms behind his back. Minho made quick work of tying his wrists together before fastening them to a beam a few inches away.
He then folded Jae's feet underneath him and tied his ankles together. The man was bound, his cock already straining against his boxers. Minho made quick work of pulling them down, the man's pathetically small cock springing out.
He probably never even brought Jisung to orgasm, let alone made him feel anything. What a useless man.
Minho smiled to himself as he prepared for the next part, a genuine smile this time. He pulled his arm back and delivered a slap so hard across the man's face that it echoed off the walls. It felt good. Jae just stared up at him for a few moments, clearly shocked. Minho didn't hesitate before doing it again, this time to the other side.
“What the fuck!” Jae yelled when he finally caught up. He thrashed against his restraints, glaring at Minho.
“I thought you liked it rough, baby. Can't handle a little pain?” Minho cooed. He stepped closer, gripping Jae’s face in his hand. He was going to humiliate him just like Jae had done to Jisung. “Say ‘I'm a pathetic waste of space and my cock is the size of a peanut’ and I'll stop.”
Minho smirked evilly down at the man, who glared back at him. “Fuck that. I'll kill you, you dumb bitch,” he spat.
“Mm, not quite. Try again,” Minho sang as he lifted his boot clad foot to stomp on the man's cock and balls. The scream Jae let out was music to Minho's ears, he dug his foot into the sensitive flesh harshly, relishing in his screams of pain. “You're crying like a little bitch.”
Jae spat towards Minho, the saliva landing in a glob next to his foot. Minho smirked at him again. “You really shouldn't have done that.”
Minho pulled his arm back before landing a punch that whipped Jae's head back, a sickening crunch sounded as it bounced off the beam he was tied to.
“Ugly bitch. Untie me. The police will be here within minutes!” Jae said, somehow holding it together as blood dripped from his head. He looked much better like this, mangled and bloody.
“Mm, and by the time they do, I'll be gone,” Minho purred, stomping on his cock once again before kicking him harshly in the ribs. “Time to get to the real fun.”
Minho was almost giddy as he pulled a knife from his backpack, big enough to be menacing, but small enough to travel with easily. He approached Jae with it, poking the sharp tip of it into the flesh of his chest.
Jae hissed from the sensation, tears streaming down his face. “Wait, please! I'll do anything.”
“Too late,” Minho hummed, stabbing the knife into the flesh of the man's thigh. The scream he let out was blood curdling, Minho needed him to be quiet. But first he had something he wanted to hear. “This is your last chance to say your safe words.”
Jae glared at him as he sobbed. “I-im a pathetic waste of s-space and my cock is the size of a p-peanut!”
“There you go, was that really so hard?” Minho said. He picked up a stray dirty sock from the floor and shoved it into his mouth, silencing him.
Jae thrashed against the holds, pleading with his eyes for mercy. Why should Minho show mercy when Jae never extended the same grace to Jisung? Just the thought of the man's disgusting hands on Jisung were enough for Minho to stab the knife straight into his neck, blood gushing from the wound and a wet gurgle escaping Jae's throat.
Minho stabbed him a few more times until the rage he felt on Jisung’s behalf had somewhat subsided. Jae had been dealt with and he'd never bother Jisung again. However, Minho had one more thing he needed to do to right the wrongs committed.
He grabbed Jae's phone, using the man's bound hand to use his fingerprint to unlock the device. He scoured every file, drive, and cloud, deleting any evidence of Jisung from his life. When he was satisfied, he cleared the trash file on his phone, too.
He hadn't planned to do the next part, but a cruel voice inside of him urged him on. Killing him wasn't enough. A particularly interesting folder that contained Jae's pathetic dick pics was uploaded to his social media accounts. Minho felt truly satisfied after that.
He set the stage, arranging the grotesque scene in a perfect homage to Jisung. Minho had killed the one threatening his purity. He stuck the daisy stem with the note that read ‘purity’ between the ropes holding Jae's wrists, carefully cleaning the knife in Jae's sink and collecting any and all evidence that could be tied back to him. On his way home he disposed of the entire outfit as well as the knife, sinking it deep into the Han river. It seemed symbolic.
This time when he returned home to find Felix and Jisung curled up in bed, he kissed each of their foreheads.
He would do anything to keep them safe.
❀
🩸🌼 Jisung
Jisung had never expected anything to happen to Jae. He nearly dropped his americano when he heard the news reporters state that the ‘daisy killer’, as they'd coined him, had struck again. Not only that, they did the exact thing to Jae that he had threatened to do to Jisung.
This opened up an interesting train of thought in Jisung’s mind. If his serial killer had access to his phone and had seen the messages himself…why didn't he kill Jae earlier? It wasn't the first time he'd called or texted to harass Jisung.
More interestingly, the only people that knew besides Jae and Jisung were Felix and Minho. Felix had been with him the entire time, which only left…Minho.
Jisung shook his head. Surely not. Minho wasn't the type at all…was he? He had to admit that the thought of Minho killing for him definitely stirred a desire deep inside him. Minho was straight out of Jisung's wet dreams, after all. If he was Jisung’s mystery guardian…Jisung shuddered. His cock threatened to stiffen up from the thought. The idea that Minho could be that devoted to him turned him on so much.
He couldn't be sure, though. Not unless he caught him in the act. It might be tricky, but Jisung had an idea.
🩸🌼 Jisung
The next day at the cafe, Jisung waited until Felix went to the restroom and the store was empty to enact his plan. He held his phone up to his ear, not actually on a call. He was going to put his acting skills to the test. He peeked at the counter to see Minho's eyes trained on him. Just like he'd expected.
Perfect.
“Hi, Chaewon!” Jisung said cheerfully, leaving enough time for his imaginary friend to respond.
“I know! It's been too long. I wanted to tell you I'm going on a date tomorrow night,” Jisung said, peeking at Minho to find him still watching. “Yep! With Hyunwoo. Yes, that Hyunwoo.”
“Don't nag me, noona!” Jisung whined in a way he hoped was convincing. “I know what he did to those girls but I'll be safe. I promise.”
Jisung looked over at the sound of a pen dropping, Minho bent over to pick it up.
“We're going to the old baseball field to go stargazing. Isn't that romantic?”
“Noona! I promise I'll be careful. Please don't worry. We’re going at eight o'clock,” he confirmed to no one. “I love you too, noona,” Jisung said, pretending to hang up.
Minho looked as though nothing had happened, but Jisung noticed his gaze hardened a few times when he thought Jisung wasn't looking. Score.
Jisung had planned a date with the campus scumbag. He was well known for not respecting boundaries and sexually assaulting drunk people at parties. Quite the piece of work, and the perfect sacrifice for Jisung's plan. Maybe he should have felt guilty over flirting with Hyunwoo's life, after all, if he was right and Minho was his secret killer, then Hyunwoo would die. He couldn't bring himself to care, though.
He'd be careful, just a little heavy petting and then he'd pretend to leave. Once he was hidden he'd wait and see if Minho came out. Since Minho seemed to be everywhere Jisung was, and he knew the man was free tonight, it would be a good start. It wasn't fool proof, but it was something.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
Minho couldn't believe how reckless Jisung was being. He nearly spilled an entire bag of coffee beans when he'd overheard him on the phone earlier. That date was a terrible idea, and nothing bad would happen on his watch. He couldn't allow that scum bag to have his way with Jisung.
Minho didn't have a choice. He packed his bag and headed to the old baseball field to find a good hiding spot well before eight. Then, he laid in wait. He wouldn’t act rashly and scare Jisung.
The pair arrived fifteen minutes late, each additional minute like a new nail being driven into Minho's flesh. He grew more and more agitated, his mind racing with images of someone else's hands on his Jisung. Taking advantage of him.
It started out innocent, they both laid on a blanket they'd brought along. Soon, though, Hyunwoo's hands started to travel to places they didn't belong. Minho had to hold himself back from interrupting their date that very second.
“Hyunwoo, I'm not feeling well,” Jisung said after a bit. They had been feeling each other up for the better part of ten minutes and Minho was fuming with jealousy. He felt so possessive over Jisung, it was making him reckless. When Jisung went to stand, Hyunwoo grabbed his wrist.
“Baby, we're just getting started,” he said, trying to be cute. Minho wanted to gag.
“I really, really don't feel good. I think I'm gonna be sick,” Jisung said, covering his mouth. “I'm gonna run home, okay? Sorry about the date.”
“Fine. Dumb bitch,” Hyunwoo grunted, standing up to pick up the blanket. They both watched as Jisung ran away. When Minho couldn't see the younger man anymore, he slowly crept towards his victim. He was fueled by the image of Hyunwoo's hands on Jisung, seared into his mind like a brand.
He was dressed in all black, just like always, and the night covered him well. He was able to sneak up on Hyunwoo easily, slicing his achilles heel and bringing him to the ground. A startled cry was the only sound he made. Minho wanted this one to be fast.
He was on him instantly, his gloved hands wrapping around the man's throat. He was blinded by rage and the audacity that this man had dared touch Jisung in front of him. He pressed the knife to his neck and cut deep, blood spilling all over the ground. He hadn't realized he was shaking, his breathing hard and labored. He needed to calm down.
Minho didn't take his time. Hyunwoo didn't deserve a second more. Minho prepared the daisy and the note, this time writing ‘new beginnings’ in the same dusty rose shade. He stuck it into the wound on Hyunwoo's neck before cleaning up the area.
This time felt different. Maybe because it was outside? Maybe because Hyunwoo hadn't actually harmed Jisung in any way. But Minho couldn't shake the feeling that there were eyes on him. He tied up his loose ends before booking it out of there, disposing of the knife and gloves deep in a dumpster before returning home.
He stumbled into his shower when he returned home in an attempt to wash away the feeling. He was paranoid and anxious, but he covered his tracks well, so he would have to be patient.
He tossed and turned until he finally realized why he couldn't sleep.
He never found out if Jisung made it home or not, too distracted by his own sick revenge. Minho pulled on his shoes and ran out the door in nothing but his sweats and tank top.
He only breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Jisung, perched on his bed. The younger turned to look out the window, his eyes scanning the darkness, seemingly looking for something.
His eyes narrowed slightly before a small grin spread over his features. He stood, reaching into his bag and pulling out what looked to be a shirt. Then, the younger pulled his shirt off, stretching his arms over his head. His tanned chest looked radiant in the dim light of his room, almost like it was glowing. His tattoos decorated his skin in a dark contrast that was so stunning. Minho couldn't look away.
Then, as quick as it was revealed, Jisung pulled a new shirt over his head. Minho's shirt.
His head spun with the realization, his heart swelling. He didn't mind a bit. Jisung looked incredible in his clothes and Minho liked the possessive feelings that sprouted up inside of him. How Jisung had gotten the shirt in the first place, Minho had no idea. He needed to get a grip on himself before he did something he'd regret, though.
Jisung was fine. Minho could rest. He slowly made his way back home only to lay restlessly in bed. He was pent up and felt wild from the adrenaline of the night.
He relented, slipping his hand into his pants to grip his aching length. He brought himself to completion with thoughts of Jisung underneath him, his body decorated with bruises and marks of Minho's making. Completely his.
Despite his guilt, Minho had never slept more soundly.
❀
🩸🌼 Jisung
The memory of Minho slitting Hyunwoo’s throat lingered in Jisung’s mind the entire way home. He replayed each little detail again and again, relishing in the delight that had washed over him. It had been so thrilling to see Minho emerge from the shadows and creep up on his victim. He was brutal and efficient, only making two cuts on Hyunwoo’s body. Jisung remembered his breath hitching in his throat when the crimson blood seeped out of the lethal wound. Jisung hadn’t processed that he was hard until he finally snapped out of his Minho-induced haze, quickly darting home.
His mind ran in one hundred different directions as he sat on his bed, still in the clothes from his “date”. He couldn’t help but think of Minho. Just how long had he been killing people? Why Jisung? How deep did his obsession run? Minho knew so many things that happened in Jisung’s life just moments after they happened, almost as if he were there himself.
Was Minho…stalking him?
Jisung turned his head to look out his open window–the window he always left open, just a screen separating him from the outside. He took in the trees and bushes outside of his window carefully, not really expecting to see anything–but hoping nonetheless. Part of him still thought maybe his mind was just making things up.
He didn't see anything at first glance, just the normal scenery. However, on his second pass his heart flipped in his chest when he caught a glimpse of white in the shrubbery, followed by undeniably human eyes. He squinted to get a better look before grinning. Bingo. Minho had been watching him in his room for who knows how long. He probably stalked Jisung on campus too, right? A shiver ran through Jisung’s body, his excitement at his discovery erupting goosebumps over his flesh.
Jisung wanted to thank Minho for taking such good care of him, even if it was a small act. He reached into his backpack to secure the prize he'd secured earlier–an old shirt of Minho's that he'd stolen when Felix was in the shower. He wasn't sure what had compelled him, but he'd needed comfort after everything with Jae, and all he could think of was Minho's scent.
He stood, pulling the shirt he'd been wearing over his head and stretching performatively. The fact that Minho’s eyes were on him like this had him filling out in his boxers, the taboo thrill of it all was exhilarating. He pulled Minho's shirt over his head, bringing the fabric to his nose to inhale Minho's scent liberally.
He wanted more, though. He was disappointed to find that Minho was gone when he turned back to the window. Next time he would put on an even better show for him. Something that truly conveyed how appreciative he was.
For now, though, he’d settle for seeing him at the cafe tomorrow.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
Minho’s eyes trailed over the tan expanse of Jisung’s forearm as it leaned on the counter next to him. Normally Jisung stuck close to Felix, so this was a new development. The younger had been blatantly watching him for the entirety of his visit, making Minho self-conscious.
He’d been very…distracting over the expanse of his visit. He’d worn shorts and a crop top and Minho swore the man bent over as many times as possible. The swell of his ass in the shorts combined with the cinch of his tiny exposed waist had Minho salivating.
Now, he stood with a plate of cheesecake right by where Minho was working, leaning on his counter, eating the dessert as slowly as possible. It was almost sultry the way he brought each bite to his mouth, moaning quietly and pulling the fork from between his pretty lips agonizingly slow.
“Your cheesecake is to die for hyung,” Jisung sighed happily, licking the last of the creamy substance from his fork. Minho watched Jisung’s pink little tongue as it made its way over each prong. Jisung was trying to kill him today.
Minho hummed in acknowledgement of the compliment, happy to see Jisung enjoying it so thoroughly. He chuckled to himself at the wording–if only Jisung knew. He watched, captivated, as Jisung pulled out his signature lipstick and reapplied it to his lips. Minho couldn’t look away–his hungry eyes taking in each minute detail.
“It’s no wonder you’re so muscular. Mixing up all these cheesecakes for me is hard work. I bet you could strangle a man with your bare hands!” Jisung gushed, breaking Minho from his spell.
Minho laughed nervously at that. Well, not his bare hands–but close enough. “You think?” he played along. Jisung just nodded enthusiastically. He was excited today, it was incredibly cute.
“What are you doing tonight, hyung?” Jisung asked, his round eyes staring hopefully at Minho.
“Mm, I’ll go to the gym and then take a walk. Maybe I’ll stop by the flower shop to pick out some new flowers for the tables,” Minho grinned.
“Oooh! Hyung! Can you get daisies again, please? I hear they are so, so pretty right now!” Jisung pleaded, his pout lethal enough to put Minho down for good.
“I’ll see what they have,” Minho promised. He wouldn’t be getting Jisung a white daisy, those were gifts he left with his offerings. There are red daisies, though. Red daisies held a much different meaning than the white daisies he usually purchased. Love, passion, and romance–could he buy flowers for Jisung with such meaning?
One thing was for sure, he would be visiting Jisung’s window tonight. The younger practically begged him to with his choice of outfit and behavior.
The day dragged on, and Minho counted the minutes until he could see Jisung that night.
❀
🩸🌼 Jisung
Jisung didn't know for sure that Minho would be watching him tonight. He hoped, though. All day he'd been attempting to plant the seeds in Minho's head. Seeds that very clearly said ‘I want you’.
Jisung pushed down his nervous feelings as he pulled out his laptop. He wanted–needed–to do this. What better way to thank Minho than to offer himself on a silver platter? He’d already prepped himself in the shower, ready to put on a show.
Jisung started by pulling up Minho’s social media pages, searching through each of them to attempt to get a grasp on the man. All he found were vague posts about food and his cats, which were very cute. Jisung had never seen cats around the bakery or their home, so they must live with their parents. He wished idly that he could meet them.
Minho didn't seem like the type to kill at all. He was a little odd, but in a charming way, not a murder way. Yet, Jisung had seen it with his own eyes.
One particular video showed Minho petting the cat’s orange fur, his voice cooing to the feline. What caught Jisung’s attention, though, were the prominent veins that ran along Minho’s tan hands and forearms.
They shifted and bulged with each movement, clearly holding an incredible amount of strength. Jisung swallowed thickly, his mind conjuring images of those same hands covered in blood. Choking the life from someone. Killing for Jisung. Those same hands wrapped around Jisung’s own throat, not to kill, but to control. Jisung wanted that desperately.
He felt the familiar burn of arousal unfurl in his stomach at the thought. He pressed on his hardening cock through the fabric of his pants, letting out a small whine. He desperately wanted to feel Minho’s eyes on him, devouring him with the certainty of his desire. Jisung turned his head to look out the window, his eyes scanning the familiar scene, squinting in attempts to see any sign of Minho. He couldn’t, of course. Minho wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Somehow, Jisung was certain he had an audience, though. He couldn't wait any longer.
He stood, slowly slipping out of his clothing in a manner that he knew was seductive–just enough to tease at the plump flesh of his ass before finally letting the fabric of his pants and boxers fall to the floor. His shirt found a similar home there, leaving him bare in front of the open window. It was reckless and stupid–it felt exhilarating.
Jisung perched himself prettily at his desk, turning on a playlist he had curated of soft music and taking his familiar shade of lipstick in his hand. He applied it liberally, far more than anyone needed for everyday use, but he had a purpose. After he had thoroughly lathered his lips in dusty rose, he dug through his drawer until he secured his favorite flesh colored dildo. He had an image in mind for how he wanted this scene to be set, and it would suit the image perfectly. Minho left him such pretty gifts, he wanted to return the favor.
He returned to his bed, arranging himself on his knees with his side profile facing the window. Jisung then brought the tip of the dildo to his decorated lips, kissing the slightly pink, rounded silicone. When he pulled it back to look at it, the dusty rose lipstick had transferred perfectly. Anticipation and excitement coursed through his veins. He couldn't wait. He was so pent up and needy. Jisung hoped Minho would imagine himself, his own cock hanging heavy and full in front of Jisung’s waiting mouth.
With that thought in mind, he parted his lips, sticking his tongue out to gently lick at the tip where his lipstick mark still remained. He swirled his tongue around the head of the faux cock performatively, moaning softly. The image in his mind of Minho above him made his cock fill the rest of the way out, straining against his abdomen. He ached to touch it, but he forced himself to wait. He needed to be good for Minho.
He then took the tip into his mouth, sucking around it before taking the length of it further into his mouth. He relished in the feeling of the waxy lipstick smearing along the silicone, the color contrast stark. He hoped it sent the message he wanted to convey clearly. It was all for Minho, the gift of himself, unwrapped and pretty on his bed–all for the man that was devoted enough to kill for him. Jisung wanted to give him everything he desired and more.
Jisung moaned around the girth in his mouth as he began to bob his head up and down the length. He wanted to worship Minho’s cock in the same way, lips parted and willing for him. Jisung finally allowed himself to relieve some of the building pressure by wrapping a hand around his cock and squeezing, a lewd moan escaping him.
He could feel the drool from his enthusiastic performance beginning to trail from his mouth to his chin, probably colored with the same symbolic color. Jisung took the dildo far enough into his throat that he gagged slightly, opening his eyes and staring directly out the window, whining from the pressure in his throat. He hoped Minho would be rough with him. He finally couldn’t take it anymore.
Jisung slid the length of the toy from his mouth and slicked it with the lube he kept in his nightstand, the flesh-toned silicone stained with dusty rose and glistening. Jisung positioned himself over it, the tip nudging against his waiting hole. He scanned the scenery outside his window again, his eyes landing where he’d seen Minho the first time.
He stared intensely at the same spot as he lowered himself down onto the girth, agonizingly slow. He needed Minho to see how good he was for him, how pretty and desperate. He whimpered as the toy settled inside of him, rubbing against his most intimate parts. He couldn’t help but imagine Minho’s strong, veiny hands on his narrow hips, guiding him as he lifted himself up and then back down. He pushed the dildo up with his hand as he slid down, the silicone sliding against his prostate just right. Jisung moaned lewdly, the squelching of the lube and his breathy sighs turning him on even more. His cock throbbed, spurting a bead of precum that trailed down his length.
“H-hyung,” Jisung whimpered as he picked up the pace, thrusting the dildo past his rim, filling himself again and again as he met each thrust with his hips. It felt amazing, every sensation enhanced by the possibility of Minho’s eyes on him. His wrist ached with the speed and force he used to fuck himself, his thin body trembling from the exertion. “M-Minho hyung.” Jisung moaned his name loud enough to have no doubt that it would reach Minho’s ears.
If Minho was watching, and Jisung had a good feeling he was, there would be no questioning. Jisung did all of this for him. He fucked himself to the thought of Minho, while Minho watched–hopefully gripping his own cock from the sight.
Jisung sighed breathily when his cock twitched at the thought. Maybe Minho edged himself, holding off until he could cum with Jisung. Or maybe he blew his entire load already and was working on his second orgasm. Jisung drove himself mad with the possibilities, fucking himself silly.
He was so very close, and he couldn’t resist anymore. He stuffed himself to the hilt with the dildo, grinding his hips in slow circles as he gripped his leaking cock. He spread the excess of precum to wet the glide as he thrust upwards into his hand. He whimpered and moaned lewdly, still looking intently at the window as he came over his hand. His orgasm was so intense that some even escaped his hand to paint his daisy patterned bedspread.
He felt boneless, his knees and arms trembling as he pulled the dildo from his used, puffy rim. He cleaned himself up, dressing in Minho's shirt once again, and boxers. When Jisung went to collect his dildo to clean it, he thought better of it. He wanted to see it in the morning. He also wanted to leave it out–just in case someone wanted a closer look at his handiwork. It was perverted and gross, but Jisung loved it. He hoped Minho would finally cross the line and enter his room.
He tucked himself into bed, turning the lights off and snuggling under the blankets. Now the next move was in Minho’s court. He fell asleep easily that night–the window left open on purpose.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
Minho felt like he was going insane. He’d heard his name slip from Jisung’s mouth–clear as day. He thought he had imagined Jisung’s gaze during his little performance, but his name slipping from the younger’s lips felt…intentional.
Jisung didn’t know, though. Right? He couldn’t know. Unless…
Minho knew what he was about to do was incredibly reckless, but that had never stopped him before. He’d stopped by the florist before they closed and purchased a single red daisy. He hadn’t been sure he’d even give it to Jisung–especially not tonight. He liked the idea of the possibility, though.
After that show, though, Minho felt particularly possessive. Jisung had done it for him, yes, but what if he hadn't been there? What if some random stranger had happened to see his Jisung, on display doing such lewd actions. Minho needed to lay claim to him somehow right here and now.
He couldn’t touch him though, not yet. He didn’t want to startle him and he wasn’t even sure if Jisung knew–and if he did, how much did he know? Minho very carefully crept closer, removing the screen as quietly as possible. Jisung didn’t stir, snoring softly as he slept. Minho couldn’t help but find him incredibly endearing. He would always keep him safe, no matter what. Jisung was his, belonged to him, whether he knew it yet or not.
Minho climbed in carefully, taking in the soft lines of Jisung’s sleeping features. His cheek was squished cutely against his pillow, his arms curled up to rest his hands just under his face. Minho smiled fondly, taking out the daisy and placing it on Jisung’s nightstand–right next to the used dildo. Minho would be taking that with him. As much as he loved the show, Minho couldn’t stand the thought of Jisung finding pleasure anywhere but from him and his own cock. He slipped it into his backpack quickly.
Next, he found a blank index card on Jisung’s desk along with his own dusty rose lipstick. This time he wrote ‘passion’, his favorite of the red daisy’s meanings. A word that truly captured the devotion and the lengths he would go to. Then he tidied any mess he may have made and put the lipstick back where he found it, leaving out the window and reattaching the screen carefully.
If Jisung woke, he didn't show any indication of being frightened. Minho both hoped and feared that Jisung would figure him out. The fear had adrenaline tingling down his spine. The anticipation of the game was tantalizing.
He hurried home, his pants uncomfortable from where he’d came in them earlier. The cum had now begun to get sticky, and he couldn’t wait to shower. Tomorrow would be telling, in many ways, and he nearly tingled with anticipation.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
The next day passed slowly, each moment dragging to the next as he waited for Jisung to arrive at the cafe. Part of him feared that Jisung wouldn't return. That he'd figured it all out and found Minho disgusting, even though he couldn't fathom how the younger would know.
He couldn't shake the nagging irritation of that thought, though. He didn't know what he'd do if Jisung tried to leave now. He didn't want to find out. He feared it wouldn't be a pretty sight to behold.
Halfway through the day, the object of Minho's desire finally walked through the door of the cafe, bell jingling as if he was any ordinary customer, and not the very axis that Minho's world spun on.
“Hi, hyung! Hi Lixie!” He greeted cheerfully, settling into his usual seat. He seemed to be in good spirits today. Minho could imagine he was feeling good, images of the night before flashing in his mind. Jisung's breathy moans, his glistening skin, and the lipstick stark against the dildo. The dildo that Minho had tucked away in his bedroom, safe for his viewing pleasure.
Minho nodded in greeting, smiling warmly at him as he prepared Jisung's usual order. This week he'd prepared a silky raspberry cheesecake, which he served on a plate alongside a complimentary scone–and an americano, of course.
“This looks to die for, hyung!” Jisung exclaimed, his face lighting up and his eyes glistening. The younger quickly took a bite, his eyes closing and a small noise of delight leaving him. “So good! You're amazing, Minho.”
Minho felt his ears heat up slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. “I'm glad you like it. I made it for you, after all.”
Jisung's cheeks flushed, a shy smile making his cheeks squish cutely. They both went about their usual routines–Minho working around the cafe and Jisung studying or chatting with Felix.
They both stole glances at each other, a new tension in the air. Whether or not it was mutually felt or made up by Minho's imagination, he couldn't be sure.
He did his best to focus on his work as Jisung and Felix chatted away. His brother seemed to be oblivious to the new dynamic in the room, yapping on happily. Yet for Minho it was almost like he was being baited by Jisung’s lingering gaze.
“I'm so frustrated, Lixie,” Jisung’s voice whined across the room. “I'd literally die for a good lay.” Minho froze, listening intently to what the younger said.
“Wow, that's so brazen,” Felix’s deep voice chuckled. “Why don't you try that dating app I told you about?”
Jisung whined again. “Do you think someone on there could kill my frustrations?” He asked, his gaze locked onto Minho, even while he responded to Felix.
Minho held his gaze for a moment before returning to his task. The eye contact was certainly intentional–Jisung wanted his attention. He gave it to him, meeting his gaze whenever he felt it return to him.
He tried not to obsess over what could possibly be the reason for Jisung's actions, the day slipping away slowly. He finally found his answer right before Jisung left for the day.
“Hyung,” Jisung chirped, startling Minho into turning around quickly. “Thanks for the cheesecake. It was really delicious.”
“Of course. It's my pleasure,” Minho assured. Jisung smiled at him for a few beats before reaching into his pocket and pulling out what looked like a small piece of paper. Minho watched the movement with curious eyes.
“See you later,” Jisung smirked. He handed the item to Minho before collecting his things and leaving quickly.
When Minho looked at what was handed to him it nearly stole his breath away.
It wasn't a piece of paper at all–it was a polaroid photo.
Jisung stood in front of a mirror, a red daisy tucked behind his ear, the color shocking against his pretty brown hair. This confirmed Minho's suspicions.
He flipped the photo over, surprised to find a handwritten note.
“The window is open. Come see me again tonight.”
❀
🩸🌼 Jisung
Jisung waited in his bedroom for what felt like eons. His thoughts raced from one potential outcome to the next in record speed. It was somewhat obvious that there was some tension between the two, but how far would Minho be willing to take his obsession?
How far would Jisung let him go?
Even if he tried to deny it, he knew. He'd give Minho everything he wanted and more. Even if Minho wanted to kill him, he'd let him easily. It was simple.
He killed time by tidying up his room and freshening himself up. No matter the outcome, he wanted to look beautiful for Minho. The prettiest offering, all dolled up and waiting to be ruined.
He couldn't help imagining himself under Minho's hands, under his blade–whatever Minho wanted. The imagery was so vivid he got swept up in imagining it, his whole body alight from the mere idea.
The anticipation raised goosebumps over his flesh, a shiver rushing through his extremities.
And then–a sound.
His eyes snapped open, training themselves onto the open window, the screen already removed–and there he was.
Jisung’s breath caught in his throat at the sight–Minho, clad in a hoodie and jeans, his expression neutral and his eyes dark as they assessed Jisung. He looked every bit the part of Jisung's killer. Capable of manipulating Jisung's fate with his own hands.
Neither of them spoke, just stared at each other wordlessly. Jisung's heart raced where it sat in his chest, his hands fidgeting restlessly. Whatever happened next, he was ready.
Minho kept his eyes trained on Jisung as he swiftly crawled into the room, replacing the screen that Jisung had left leaning against the wall and closing the window completely. He swallowed the fear threatening to crawl up his throat.
Jisung's eyes darted to the door, unlocked and his only viable option for escape should he desire it. Minho followed his gaze, walking carefully to the door to lock it as well. Now there was no escape–the thrill of anticipation filled him.
He could feel the adrenaline pulsing under his skin, his body coiled tight, ready to react to whatever came next.
“You know.” Minho stated simply, breaking the silence between them. Two words that conveyed many meanings. Jisung knew. What would Minho do about that fact, he wondered.
“I know,” Jisung breathed out, his eyelashes fluttering involuntarily.
Minho took a step towards where Jisung sat on his bed, the younger’s breath hitching audibly. Jisung's heart fluttered in his chest as a small smirk formed on the older’s face.
“Whatever should I do with you? Since you know so much,” Minho asked, hovering at the edge of the bed and looming over Jisung.
“Whatever you want,” Jisung confessed, his voice low and breathy. He was ready for whatever would come next.
“Whatever I want?” Minho purred darkly, his hand reaching out to take Jisung's chin between his fingers. Jisung nearly whined when he met Minho's eyes, still dark and so, so hungry.
“Anything,” Jisung assured. He truly meant it, too. Minho owned him, body and soul.
“And if I want to hurt you?” Minho questioned, his grip tightening.
“I'd let you,” Jisung whispered, his voice unwavering. A flash of something akin to amusement flickered in Minho's eyes. “Whatever you want, I'm yours.”
The older moved onto the bed now, pushing Jisung onto his back and crawling to hover over him. Jisung went easily, his hands moving to rest on either side of his own head, surrendering his body to Minho, submissive and willing.
Minho took Jisung's wrists in his hands, pinning them to the bed in a display of dominance. Jisung knew he was trembling, the anticipation and excitement too much to contain.
“You aren't scared to die?” Minho asked softly, seriously this time. Jisung didn't hesitate.
“Not if it's you,” he replied, just as seriously. His heart thudded in his chest, his cock stirring to life.
“What if I want to kiss you?” Minho asked, his face moving to hover just above Jisung's lips.
Jisung didn't move, allowing Minho complete control of the situation. Their noses almost brushed, so close Jisung could taste his breath. “Please.”
Minho's grip tightened around Jisung's wrists, the pain deliciously sweet as their lips met, even sweeter.
The kiss was brief, Minho pulled back slightly to look into Jisung's eyes, his pupils blown.
“I can't control myself when it comes to you,” Minho confessed. “If you let me have you, even a little bit, I'll never let you go.”
Jisung smiled at him in response. That was exactly what he wanted. “You have no idea how badly I want that.” He kept Minho's gaze, allowing the truth to settle between them like a heavy fog. Against all reason and logic, they wanted each other.
Minho collected both of Jisung’s slender wrists in one hand as he wrenched Jisung's leg up and over his hip. His fingertips dug into the flesh of Jisung's thigh, a small breath escaping the younger's mouth.
“I won't stop, even if you beg,” Minho warned, sending a jolt of arousal through Jisung’s body. “I'll fuck you hard, again and again. Mark you, claim you, breed you. There won't be an inch of your body left untouched by my hands and owned completely by me. I'm serious, Jisung. There's no going back from this, you'll be mine and mine alone.”
Jisung gasped quietly from the possessive handling and words. His cock drooled pathetically in his boxers, twitching and wet. There was nothing he desired more than to give himself up to Minho.
“M'already yours,” Jisung murmured softly, looking at Minho with half-lidded eyes. He watched as Minho's expression melted into one of pure desire, his obsession thinly-veiled by the control he attempted to maintain over himself–now discarded.
Minho crashed their lips back together, rocking his hips forward hungrily, almost as if he was making a statement. It was too late to stop now, Jisung was fully–happily–ensnared. Nothing had ever felt so right.
The softness of their first kiss still remained, but an urgency had overshadowed it. Their mouths moved against each other quickly, panted breaths the only noise between them. It was like Minho wanted to consume him, pulling the very essence of his being from where their lips met to steal it away.
Jisung parted his lips in offering, his tongue grazing over the older's plump upper lip. Minho accepted greedily, tongue diving into the cavern of Jisung's mouth, sliding wetly against his tongue and seemingly mapping out the placement of each canine and molar nestled in Jisung’s gums.
Jisung squirmed against Minho's hold, moving his hips up to experimentally grind against where Minho's pelvis pinned him. A sound akin to a groan ripped its way out of Minho, almost primal in nature. Pride filled Jisung, he loved having the power to instill pleasure in the older.
Minho released Jisung's hands in favor of stripping off the fabric that separated their skin, peeling the layers away bit by bit, the entirety of their clothing piled on the floor. Jisung shivered as the air touched his exposed skin, all his nerves alight in anticipation. He laid bare on his sheets, watching as Minho rose and retrieved the lube that Jisung had left out.
Jisung knew Minho was pretty, and he had expected the man's cock to be pretty, but the sight he was met with stole his breath away. Minho's erection was thick and veiny, already plump and not even all the way hard. “Wow,” he breathed out, too turned on to be embarrassed. Minho smirked at him, continuing with his task.
The younger bit his bottom lip seductively, spreading his legs slowly, eyes locked onto Minho's own. He felt the path his eyes took as it surveyed the entirety of his exposed flesh, a hungry look in his eyes that made a shiver of excitement run through Jisung's body. He trailed his fingers from his hip to his chest, waiting for Minho to pounce.
The older’s eyes followed Jisung’s hand up his body until their eyes met once more. He clicked open the lube, drizzling some on his fingers, the drip making Jisung swallow the lump in his throat. Minho crawled back onto the bed, situating himself above Jisung once again, his slick fingers teasing at Jisung's taint. The younger whimpered softly from the touch, reaching out for the older.
Minho dove back in, kissing along his neck hot and wet, each breath against his skin working to drive Jisung mad. He tangled his fingers into Minho's dark locks, moaning breathily. The elder's fingertips trailed over Jisung's sac, leaving a wet gooey trail. He felt like he was ascending, each touch an enlightenment.
Jisung shivered as Minho's hand cupped his sac, squeezing gently. They resumed their path after a bit, teasing over the cleft of his ass. Jisung whined, pulling at Minho's hair and spreading his legs, one hand traveling down in attempts to spread himself further for Minho. He was needy and desperate. He wanted Minho to take him, mold him, and change him.
The older batted his hand away with a tsk. “Impatient,” he scolded, finally making contact with the puckered skin of Jisung's rim. He stroked the sensitive area with the tip of his finger, slick with lube. Jisung couldn't help the moan that left his lungs. Minho was finally touching him where he needed him most.
Minho's cock twitched where it lay, heavy and full against Jisung's hip. Jisung couldn't wait to feel it impaling him, rearranging his insides. Jisung whined airily when the first finger breached him, tugging on Minho's hair.
The older tucked his face into Jisung's neck, raking his teeth over the soft flesh. Jisung trembled from the outside in, his whole body affected by the promise of teeth biting down. “You can never leave me after this,” Minho growled possessively, punctuating the words by sinking his teeth into Jisung's flesh and sucking hard. Jisung's eyes fluttered shut, his lips parting in a moan.
When Minho finally released the skin from between his teeth Jisung felt him soothe over it with his tongue. “If you try to leave, I'll bring you back. If you run, I'll catch you,” Minho warned, biting into a different patch of flesh on Jisung's neck. Jisung keened from the possessive words. He would never leave Minho now, he couldn't–even if he wanted to.
Minho was claiming him inside and out. A second finger nudged against his rim before pushing in, his fingers making quick work of opening him up.
“I'd let you catch me,” Jisung confessed. “Every t-time.” His words stuttered as Minho crooked his fingers just right to rub over his prostate.
Jisung moaned as Minho paid extra attention to the bundle of nerves inside him, rubbing his fingers over it again and again.
“That's right,” Minho cooed. “You're mine. I'm the only one who can touch you the way you deserve to be touched. Kissed.” Minho bit down on a new area of Jisung's neck, holding the skin between his teeth until Jisung cried out. “Fucked.”
Jisung arched his hips off the bed, his body overwhelmed with the onslaught of pleasure and trying to escape the stimulation. Minho was having none of that, though. He used his free hand to grip Jisung's hip and pin it to the bed, making the younger take what he was given.
“H-hyung. Minho hyung!” Jisung cried out, pulling at his hair and scratching his shoulders. He was overwhelmed to the point of bursting. Minho finally relented, adding a third finger and kissing over the dark purple marks he'd made, trailing down to Jisung's pecs. He quickly took a pert nipple into his mouth, circling his tongue over the bud.
Jisung sighed in pleasure and relief, the new stimulation a welcome change. The way Minho handled his body was electrifying, like he already knew everything there was to know. How to make Jisung's body respond and move like clockwork. Maybe he did. The idea was thrilling, Minho's possession of him so interwoven into his very being.
Minho startled Jisung out of his haze with a quick bite on his nipple. The older then set to work marking and claiming the supple flesh of his chest and pecs. Jisung hoped the marks would last for days to come, a reminder of Minho's complete ownership over him.
“So, so pretty,” Minho breathed. Jisung felt his skin flush at the words. “So pretty and all mine, right?”
“Yours,” Jisung affirmed. Minho rewarded him with the feeling of his teeth sinking into the skin by his other nipple, ripping a breathy gasp from him. “All yours.”
Minho soothed the sting with his tongue before taking the neglected nipple into his eager mouth. The older's fingers slipped from Jisung's body, the emptiness immediately making Jisung feel desperate and needy. He made his displeasure known, whining at the older.
“Say it again. Who do you belong to?” Minho questioned, kissing down to trail his tongue along the younger's inguinal crease, teasing the sensitive skin between his thigh and groin.
Jisung shivered, the thrill of the words traveling through his body, making his toes curl. “Yours.”
“Again,” Minho demanded, nipping his hip bone.
“Yours, hyung!” Jisung moaned. His cock drooled a bead of precum where it strained against his stomach, agonizingly hard. The ownership Minho displayed over him, his body, his pleasure, had him reaching down to grip his length.
Before he could, Minho snatched his wrist, holding it against the bed. “Say my name. Who owns you, pretty?” He kissed hungrily until he was nosing at Jisung's cock.
“I'm yours, Minho Hyung. I belong to you,” Jisung said. As soon as those words left his mouth, Minho took the head of his swollen cock into his mouth, licking up the precum.
Jisung threw his head back in pleasure, finally getting much needed relief on his cock. “Fuck,” he cursed, his fingers twisting in the sheets.
Minho swallowed him down, his cock nudging the walls of the older's throat. Jisung moaned loudly, unabashedly needy when the walls of Minho's throat constricted around him in a swallow. Just as Jisung was on the precipice, his cock throbbing and aching to release, Minho popped off. A tortured whimper ripped from his throat.
“Good boy.” He smiled, genuine, enjoying playing with the younger. He was so pretty, all Jisung could do was blink at him. He watched, breath caught in his throat as Minho uncapped the lube to coat his cock, thick and veiny in his hand. “I can't wait to feel you.”
With that he hefted Jisung into his arms, startling a yelp out of him. Jisung scrambled to wrap his arms around Minho's shoulders for purchase. He yelped again as his back was pressed to the cold glass of his window, the same window Minho had watched him through so many times before.
Minho situated them so that Jisung's ass rested partially on the window ledge, his legs held up by Minho's arms at the elbow. He was cramped, pushed against the window by Minho's body, the constricting feeling making him feel utterly trapped. The sensation excited him, a lewd groan leaving him as Minho slid his cock against the puckered skin of his entrance.
“I've watched you through this window so many times,” Minho purred. “Now I'm going to make you mine. Pressed up against it for anyone to see.” Jisung liked the sound of that. It was risky, but the possessive nature had his skin tingling in delight. He wanted the whole world to see how Minho owned him.
The blunt head of Minho's cock pressed against Jisung's rim, stretching the ring of muscle as the tip pushed in. Jisung's skull thunked against the glass of the window, his mouth open in a silent gasp. Minho was already so big, stretching him so wide.
“You're so tight,” Minho grunted. “Made to take my cock just like this.” He slid to the hilt quickly, the stretch a bit painful, a choked moan being punched from Jisung.
“Fuck, fuck, shit,” Jisung gasped. His hole spasmed and clenched around the sudden intrusion. He was so, so full. He could practically feel Minho in his guts in this position, his abdomen clenching.
Minho leaned forward to kiss Jisung deeply, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. Jisung felt like the world was dropping out from underneath him as Minho pulled out, crashing to earth as he thrust back in with a snap of his hips. The whiplash was sweet, knowing that Minho would catch him every time.
He set a fast, frantic pace, their skin slapping together noisily. Jisung felt like his brain was being rattled around in his skull, his eyes watering. He chased Minho's lips, desperate for the second point of connection, his fingers curling into the older's hair.
A chorus of breathy ‘ah’s and ‘fuck's, left Jisung's mouth involuntarily. Minho's cock pistoned deep inside him, rearranging his inner being–molding and shaping him to Minho's will.
“I'll imprint the shape of my cock into you,” Minho growled. “Ruin you for anyone else but me.”
Jisung moaned at the thought. How could he ever want anyone else after this? Who could compare to Minho, who would kill for him?
Minho gripped Jisung's thighs, lifting him slightly to pull his hips to meet each thrust. It was animalistic–fast, messy, and loud. At this angle Minho fucked into Jisung's prostate on every thrust, making him dig his fingernails into the older's scalp.
“Thats right, baby. Tell me who owns your slutty little hole,” Minho demanded, voice low, sounding wrecked with pleasure and exertion. “That silly little toy could never satisfy you like me.”
“Y-you Minho, my hole belongs to you,” Jisung moaned, the words cutting off into a moan. “My whole b-body is yours.”
Minho groaned, angling himself to fuck deeper into Jisung, each thrust hitting hard and deep. Jisung was so close, he could feel the telltale pressure in his core, molten and spreading to his groin.
“C-close,” He cried out, hiding his face into Minho's neck. The next few thrusts pushed him near his breaking point, but he wasn't quite there yet. “Wanna be full of you. B-breed me, please. Mark me, claim me–make me yours!”
“Fuck, Jisung,” Minho groaned. He thrust in deep a few more times, his rhythm becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. “Mine. All mine.”
“Yours,” Jisung moaned, clenching down around him, his body overwhelmed with pleasure. With one more thrust Jisung felt Minho's hot load fill him. The next series of small, grinding motions pushed Jisung over the edge, cumming hard, untouched all over their chests. Minho was all encompassing, his claim deep inside of Jisung. He felt more content in this moment than he ever had.
His body was spent, his limbs and eyelids heavy. He closed his eyes, latching onto Minho as the older carried him to the bed.
He vaguely registered the tickling feeling of a tissue cleaning him off and a warm body settling into the bed beside him.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
Minho had never felt happier and more fulfilled in his life. This is what his life was meant to be spent doing–loving Jisung. Holding him, fucking him, doting on him.
The younger slept soundly, still nude, pressed firmly to Minho's chest. It was incredibly cute that he fell asleep so quickly after they came. He was so vulnerable, so trusting of Minho to take care of him– which he did, happily.
He stroked a finger lazily over the blooming marks and bites on Jisung's neck. He looked so beautiful with Minho’s claim on him. Maybe someday Minho would buy him a pretty collar to decorate his neck along with his bruises.
He could imagine Jisung bound with ropes or chains on his slender wrists, tight enough that it dimpled the flesh, leaving marks on his skin.
Minho kissed Jisung's forehead, then each of his eyes, his nose, and then his softly snoring mouth. Jisung stirred, his round eyes appearing as he blinked sleepily at Minho.
“You're still here.” He smiled, relief and happiness palpable in his expression. “I’m glad.”
“There is nowhere I'd rather be,” Minho assured him. He shivered as Jisung’s hands pressed against his chest, his fingertips trailing tentatively against the flesh of his pecs and stomach. His eyes followed his fingers as they explored until they ventured to Minho’s face. Minho looked back into his soft brown eyes, smitten.
“Why me?” Jisung asked, his voice small. Minho cupped his cheek, holding his gaze. There was no one else he’d go to these lengths for, not even Felix. Yes, he’d do a lot for his brother, kill for him, but not to this extent. The answer was simple.
“Because you’re mine. You have been since the first time I laid eyes on you,” Minho murmured. “It’s as simple and as complicated as that.”
Jisung nodded, his eyes serious. “I think I understand. I–I think I feel it, too.” Minho’s heart swarmed with warmth, he leaned forward to plant a kiss onto Jisung’s forehead, which devolved into Minho kissing every inch of Jisung’s face he could. The younger giggled, batting Minho away. “Hyung. Hyung! It tickles!”
“I can’t help it,” Minho confessed. “I didn’t think I’d get to have you like this.” It was the truth, he feared that Jisung would reject him, be scared of him–he never imagined an outcome where they fucked and Minho got to claim him.
“Would you kill again for me? If I asked?” Jisung asked suddenly, blinking curiously up at Minho. His expression was so precious, his big boba eyes peeking out from his long eyelashes cutely.
“Without hesitation,” Minho answered, no deliberation needed.
Jisung swallowed, his adams apple bobbing as he scanned Minho’s face, his plump bottom lip bitten. “Thats so fucking hot.”
“Oh?” Minho laughed in surprise. “My little freak.” He tickled Jisung sides, scooting along with the younger as he wiggled to the edge of the bed in attempts to escape.
Minho crawled on top of him, his leg sliding between Jisung’s legs naturally to continue his assault. That's when he felt it. Jisung was hard. Hard from the admission that he was Minho's. Hard because Minho would kill for him again. Minho smirked down at him as he ground his thigh into Jisung's erection.
“Aah!” Jisung gasped. “I-i can explain.” Minho wanted to devour him whole, cute and flustered and all ripe for the taking.
“No need to explain,” Minho purred. “You're turned on by the idea of me killing for you. My sweet little Jisung.”
“I–I watched you that night. When you killed Hyunwoo. I planned it. Needed to know for sure,” Jisung confessed, his eyes wide–prey-like. That surprised him. He hadn't realized Jisung baited him like that.
Minho allowed his gaze to darken. “Is that so?” He crawled so he hovered over Jisung, the younger’s head practically hanging over the side. “It turned you on that I murdered him for touching you, didn't it?”
Minho gripped Jisung's cheeks, tilting his head back until they were staring at each other in the full-length mirror leaning against Jisung's wall. He looked so sweet, eyes blown and mouth agape as he stared at Minho upside down. Jisung didn't answer the question. He didn't have to.
“Then you decided it would be fun to tease me, didn't you? Minho said, darkly. He released Jisung's cheeks in favor of wrapping his hand around Jisung's throat, squeezing gently. The younger moaned, eyes fluttering closed.
“No, open your eyes. You're going to look at yourself while I show you why i'm the only person who can touch you from now on,” Minho growled. “I'll kill anyone who so much as looks at you with intentions to touch you.”
Jisung moaned, his body arching up, seeking friction against Minho's thigh. “Minho, please.”
“Spit on your hand to make it wet for me, baby,” Minho commanded. Jisung obeyed, quickly spitting onto his hand to apply the fluid to Minho's cock, and then his own hole. “Good boy.”
Minho lined himself up and plunged into Jisung, still stretched open from their earlier round, but a bit dry with only spit to ease the glide. The younger cried out, the vibrations tingling through Minho's fingers on either side of his neck.
The flesh was soft to the touch, in a different world, he'd want to carve his name into Jisung's honey flesh, deep enough to scar. Marking him forever–much more permanent than the bruises he'd left. Those would have to do for now, though. He hoped Jisung would want to mark him in return, as well, eventually.
“Fuck, Minho!” Jisung moaned. “Fuck, you're so big. Stretch me so much.” Minho preened at the words, pulling out until the ridge of his cockhead caught on his puffy rim. He hovered there, teasing the younger with shallow little thrusts until Jisung slapped at his ass. “Fuck me properly, Lee Minho! Or I'll go find someone who can.”
Oh.
Minho squeezed his hand tightly where it rested gently against Jisung's neck. The younger gasped, the sound stuttered, petering off into a whimper.
“That's a dangerous game to play, Han Jisung,” Minho purred, snapping his hips forward harshly. He picked up a bruising pace, their hips slapping together, Jisung's hands scrabbling for purchase. The noises leaving his mouth were pitiful, aborted words and moans punched out of his little body. “We already established that no one can fuck you like I can, but if I have to fuck you full every damn day until it sticks in your pretty head, I will.”
Jisung didn't–or perhaps couldn't–respond, his lungs occupied by attempting to suck in meaningful breaths or crying out. Minho thrust forward hard, their bodies shifting up just far enough that Jisung had to either hold his head up, or let it hang over the side of the bed, staring at himself in the mirror as Minho rearranged his insides.
“Don't close your eyes or I won't let you cum,” Minho threatened. “You're going to watch while I fuck you. To remind you who makes you feel this good. Who owns you.”
Minho kept up his pace, filling Jisung again and again, all while maintaining blazing eye contact in the mirror. It stirred something inside Minho–possessive, primal, and raw. Jisung looked so beautiful beneath him, submitting to him, pretty and pliant.
“I'm the only one who gets to see you this way,” Minho stated, the drag of his cock along the younger’s silky walls was agonizingly good. He could do nothing but mount Jisung for the rest of his days and he'd be perfectly content. He was addicted to the sounds, the sight, and the feeling. “Tell me. Tell me I'm the only one who gets to see you like this. To have you in this way.”
“You're the o-only one, Minho. Just you. Nobody else could fuck me this good–Aah!” Jisung cried out, melting into a loud moan.
Minho moved his hand from Jisung’s neck to wrap it around his weeping cock, stroking it in time with his hips. Minho was so close, he just needed Jisung to tighten around him in pleasure first.
“Cum for me, angel. You did so, so well,” he groaned out. Jisung's body shook beneath him before going taught, his release warm in Minho's hand.
Minho pulled out suddenly, moving to straddle Jisung's chest, his cock hanging angry and red over Jisung's face. “Look at me,” Minho demanded. He stroked himself quickly until the pleasure overwhelmed him, painting Jisung's face with hot, white streaks of cum.
The beast inside of him settled, finally. There was no doubt who Jisung belonged to.
“I love you,” Jisung sighed out, hand running through Minho's messy hair. “Why did you take so long to crawl into my window, hm? You're perfect for me.”
Minho stared at him for a moment, taken aback. Jisung was so perfect and pretty beneath him. He'd just told Minho he loved him, even after everything he'd said and done. Jisung should be running for his life, calling the police–anything but confessing his feelings. Yet, here they were.
Fucked up, twisted, and completely perfect for each other. “I love you, too.”
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
“I still can't believe you two are together,” Felix said, gawking at them from his perch on the cafe counter. “I knew Hannie had a little crush on you, but damn do you two move fast.”
They had only been together for about a week, but it had been impossible to hide their relationship with how clingy Jisung was and how possessive Minho had been acting.
“Yah! Lixieee!” Jisung whined, attempting to break free from where he was nestled into Minho's arms. Minho didn't budge, wrapping his arms more firmly around the younger’s waist. “Don't say stuff like that. It's embarrassing!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Felix grinned, rolling his eyes playfully. “So how did you two end up getting together anyway? You hardly ever talked in the cafe and I know Jisung would have told me if you asked him out.”
Minho felt Jisung tense in his arms, they hadn't had much time to discuss what they would tell people. He was certain that a million different fake scenarios were flashing through Jisung's mind, so he kissed his cheek and decided to take mercy on him.
“We matched on a hook up app,” Minho lied easily, his voice deadpan. “Then we fell in love after rounds and rounds of crazy animalistic sex.”
“Eww!” Felix gagged dramatically while Jisung covered his face with his hands. “Hyung, please, you know I love you but ew.”
“You asked.” Minho shrugged, grinning. As soon as Felix walked away and Minho released Jisung, he was turning in the elder's arms, slapping at his chest in embarrassment.
“I can't believe you said that,” he hissed. Jisung looked so unbelievably cute, his lips molded into a pout and his puppy dog eyes on full display.
“Well I couldn't very well tell him the truth now could I, Jisungie?” Minho purred, scooping him back into his arms. Jisung ‘humphed’, but settled back into Minho's hold easily.
“Are you ready for our plans tonight?” Minho asked, kissing along his ear.
“Mhm, I'm excited. Nervous.” Jisung nodded. Their conversation ended there, as they couldn't exactly speak about their plans aloud.
Jisung had been morbidly curious about the details of each of Minho's victims, how he did it, and with what means. Eventually, Jisung had confessed that he was interested in watching Minho take someone's life again and hence the plans were made.
“I have to finish closing up the store, but you can wait with me or in the room if you'd like,” Minho offered, squeezing his ass as he released him.
“I think I'll go shower and um…get ready,” Jisung blushed. Minho chuckled. Jisung certainly was perfect for him.
❀
🩸🔪 Minho
They'd taken great care to select their victim, a lowlife predator that was known to harass pretty young men at their local gay bar. Jisung had been all too eager to play the part of bait, dressing up in a skimpy outfit and styling his hair and makeup with care. He looked divine.
Minho had dressed up too, tight pants and a form fitting top. Jisung had done his hair and makeup. They both looked good. So good they hardly made it out the door before they ruined their pretty outfits. They had a goal, though.
They danced together under the dim lighting of the club, making a spectacle of themselves. They already knew their target was here, made eyes at him from across the bar to pique his interest. Now they were putting on a show, all hands and grinding, kissing sloppily within his view.
After they had danced to their hearts content and felt satisfied with their performance, the pair made their way to the bar where their prey sat. They slid onto the stools on either side of him, setting their full attention on him.
“Saw you dancing,” the man huffed, clearly having consumed too much alcohol. “I could show you both a good time, if you want.”
“We were hoping you'd say that,” Minho purred, laying his hand on the man's thigh. He didn't look at the man though, his eyes locked onto Jisung’s.
“Wanted to know what it's like to be taken care of by a man like you,” Jisung whispered, grinning back at Minho.
It didn't take long for them to convince the man to leave the bar with them. It had been laughably easy, taking the bait without thought. They'd told him they had a special place for nights like this– that they liked the ambiance of the space.
In reality it was an abandoned warehouse the two had scouted out for exactly this purpose. Plenty of room to set up ahead of time and far enough from civilization that no one would hear his screams.
They had opted to rent a car for the evening, not wanting anyone to identify their vehicle at the scene and knowing the rental car company cleaned their cars thoroughly after they were returned.
Minho drove while Jisung chatted with the man, keeping him occupied enough that he didn't question how far they traveled. When they reached their decided upon landmark, Jisung offered the man a drink they had spiked earlier. It wouldn't keep him out for long, but hopefully it would allow them to set the scene appropriately to ensure their own safety.
When they pulled up, they worked together to haul the sleepy man into the run down building, placing his body onto a chair they'd secured against a stone beam. Minho donned his gloves, handing a pair to Jisung who also slipped them on, before stripping the man naked.
Minho then set to work, quickly binding the man's arms, legs, chest, and neck to the chair and pillar. The man soon sat before them, helpless and naked, a perfect canvas to carve their wicked desires into.
Minho smiled at Jisung, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. “How are you feeling?”
Jisung smiled back at him, his eyes shining in the way that Minho loved. “I'm nervous. Excited.”
“Me too,” Minho confessed. He couldn't believe what a perfect match Jisung was for him. They aligned in ways he'd never imagined he could with another. He'd do anything and everything for Jisung.
The air in the room shifted as a small grunt sounded from the bound man. He blinked awake, his eyes hazily searching the room. Jisung smiled at Minho, who nodded at him in encouragement.
Jisung approached the man, a small seductive smile decorating his face. “There you are,” he purred. “You fell asleep on us.”
The man jerked his head to take in the sight of Jisung, dolled up and practically shining with how vibrant he was. “What the fuck did you do to me?”
Jisung giggled, removing his pants to reveal a pretty lace pair of panties underneath. “What do you mean, silly? You're not making any sense.” The younger stood in front of the man, clad just his skimpy top and panties.
“Where the hell are my clothes?” The man asked. He was angry, but still too groggy to put up much of a fight. Jisung met the man's eyes, trailing his gloved fingertip along the line of his jaw. He then walked a slow, deliberate circle around the man.
He placed his hands over his own chest, slowly dragging them down to his thighs, biting his lip and moaning quietly. The bound man went easily, his eyes glued to the movement of Jisung's hands, pupils blown wide.
“You like what you see?” Minho purred. He hated allowing the man to see his Jisung like this. However, it made what he had to do next even easier.
“I-i don't remember how I got here,” the man whimpered. He was engaged in a clear battle between fear and arousal, the latter taking precedent if his slowly hardening cock was any indication.
“Don't worry about that.” Jisung smiled at him. “Just pay attention to me. You said you would.” With those words he climbed into his lap, hovering his hips above the man's naked groin. He gyrated his hips seductively, hands resting on the man's shoulders for balance.
Minho felt possessiveness bubble up inside him from the sight. Jisung looked so sexy as he rolled his hips, putting on the perfect show. The older kept his eyes trained darkly onto the pair, hating every moment of their soon to be victims eyes laid on Jisung.
Minho smirked to himself in satisfaction when he finally saw what he was waiting for. The man was fully erect, perfectly ready to be mutilated.
It seemed Jisung had noticed too, as he quickly stepped away from the man, turning to Minho. His heart lurched at the sign of trust and devotion. Jisung was truly meant to be his. In every life he would fight to the ends of the earth to have him. To be able to see him in his essence like this, was what Minho lived for.
“He's all ready for you, hyung,” Jisung sang, waving Minho over with a wink. Minho went easily. He always would for Jisung.
“Looks like you got a bit excited.” Minho smirked coldly at him. “Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not polite to look at what doesn't belong to you?”
With that Minho pulled out the knife he'd hidden behind his back, relishing in the excitement gleaming in Jisung's eyes.
“He looks so scared, hyung," Jisung said with a faux tone of sympathy.
“Mm, he does. Are you ready?” Minho asked. The man had been shouting profanities at them, but Minho could hardly be bothered to care. Not when he was focused on making this experience good for Jisung.
“More than ready.” Jisung nodded. “Do it, love.”
With that, Minho grasped the man's cock in his gloved hand, yanking it taut before cleaving it from his body. It happened so fast, the man didn't even seem to register what had happened until his eyes locked onto his dismembered penis. A pathetic whimper leaving his lips, eyes wide and terrified locking onto Minho as he started cursing in panic.
Minho handed the knife to Jisung, kissing his temple sweetly. “You're going to knick his femoral artery like we talked about.” Minho pointed to the correct area. “Right here, baby.”
Jisung stepped forward timidly, eyes focused on the point of flesh that Minho had pointed out. Then, he raised the knife and sunk it into the man's thigh with precision. A guttural scream finally ripped from the man, the reality of his situation caught up to him and the shock completely worn off.
“Beautiful work,” Minho praised. The man would bleed out within the next ten minutes, and their work on him would be done. Minho hardly wanted to look at him, his sights immediately honed onto Jisung. He turned to the man, gripping his face between his fingers. “Now you're going to watch while I show you who he belongs to.”
“Really?” Jisung beamed, dropping the knife and throwing himself into Minho's arms. “You were so fucking sexy, Minho.”
Minho carried him over to a blanket they'd laid out for their purposes. “Are you kidding me? You were the sexy one. Look at you.” Minho placed him down beside the blankets, looking him over with pride and admiration.
Minho smirked playfully at the sight of Jisung’s excitement, his cock hard and threatening to escape the tiny panties he wore. “You really liked that, hm?”
“Shut up and let me ride you,” Jisung responded, rolling his eyes. Minho certainly wasn't going to argue with that. He shimmied out of his pants and boxers, flopping back onto the blanket.
Now it was Jisung's turn to smirk at him. His eyes locked onto Minho's erection, full and heavy between his legs. “Seems like I wasn't the only one who enjoyed the show.”
“Big talk coming from a first-timer,” Minho snarked, snickering at Jisung's offended expression. Jisung's eyes moved over to their extra supplies, a mischievous glint taking over them.
He reached over and picked up an extra knife they'd brought along, setting it beside Minho on the blanket. Then, he turned, pulling his panties over his ass, revealing a surprise even Minho hadn't known about. A pretty daisy plug, nestled snugly between his two perfect ass cheeks.
“Fuck, you're gorgeous,” Minho breathed. He reached for Jisung only to have his hands swatted away.
“No touching,” He scolded, removing the rest of his clothing and moving to straddle Minho. “Since I'm such a novice I'll show you how well a first-timer can handle himself.”
Minho laid back, accepting his fate, whatever it may be. He honestly wouldn't be upset if Jisung decided to carve his heart out of his chest–it belonged to him, anyway.
Minho watched with rapt attention as Jisung spat on the older’s cock, slicking it up just enough. Then, he reached behind him and pulled the plug out, the wet drizzle of leftover lube leaking from his hole and onto Minho's thighs.
Jisung didn't waste any time sinking down onto him, their bodies well accustomed to each other since the first night they'd gotten together. They were one in every sense of the word.
What surprised Minho was the knife that Jisung took into his hand, just as sharp and deadly as the one they had used earlier. His eyes were dark as he pressed it to Minho's neck. “Make sure to hold still,” Jisung instructed. The thrill of surrendering control to Jisung was euphoric.
Minho threw his head back as Jisung began riding him with purpose. He utilized his free hand for balance, working himself up and down Minho's cock. The man was still screaming at them in the background, occasionally quieting down to just cry. He would be dead soon. Minho hoped he was enjoying the show.
The older swallowed thickly, his neck pressing against the cold metal of the knife from the action. Jisung looked so breathtaking. There was a bit of blood smeared on his exposed flesh, his cock hard and glistening against his skin, and a knife pressed to Minho's throat. There was no sight more beautiful in the world.
“You're being so obedient,” Jisung sighed blissfully as he sank down on Minho’s cock once again. He trailed the cold tip of the knife across the expanse of Minho's neck, tracing the dips of his collar bone. “I think maybe you'd look pretty with my name carved into your chest.”
Minho moaned at the thought. He'd love nothing more than to be branded by Jisung. A scar he could wear proudly–a symbol of their devotion.
“I'd let you carve your name into me too, you know,” Jisung panted, his ass slapping against Minho's thighs. “Could write it right here.” He trailed the knife down to Minho's chest, punctuating the remark by pressing the blade just firmly enough for a small trickle of blood to appear.
The breaking of his skin triggered a primal urge in him. Minho pushed up suddenly, the knife dropping from Jisung’s hand as Minho pulled him down into a searing kiss. He planted his feet on the ground, wrapping his arms around Jisung's waist.
The older set a brutal pace, pistoning into Jisung hard and deep, holding him in place to take each thrust fully. Jisung cried out, his arms wrapping firmly around Minho's neck.
Minho felt frenzied, the adrenaline of what they'd done together all surmounting to this moment. He fucked Jisung like he was claiming him from the inside out, carving a home for himself inside the younger’s body. Minho would never know truer happiness than this. He wanted to spend the rest of his days making Jisung feel like this.
“Fuck, Minho!” Jisung moaned. He tangled his fingers into Minho's hair, biting down on his neck to muffle a scream.
It suddenly wasn't enough. Minho sat up, lifting Jisung to lay him on his back, quickly hovering over him and sliding back home.
This time Minho looked into Jisung's eyes as he thrust deep and slow into him. The younger met his gaze, pure unfiltered affection shining from them.
“I love you,” Minho confessed. “I love you so fucking much. Someday I really do want you to carve your name into my skin. Change me forever. Claim me as your own.”
“I love you, too,” Jisung responded, pulling him down into a passionate kiss. “As long as you promise to do the same to me.” Their bodies rocked together again and again, until Minho grasped Jisung’s cock in his hand, stroking him until he fell apart underneath him.
Minho followed suit, spilling into Jisung– marking him as his own once again.
The scene was far from romantic–dirt, blood, and cold cement surrounded them–but the pair hardly cared. They laid entwined for what felt like hours, basking in the beauty of the experience they'd just shared.
Eventually they tidied up the scene, being careful to dispose of any incriminating evidence as they worked quietly together. The finishing touch was a singular red daisy, placed delicately on the man's thigh. A note was fixed to it, and written in dusty rose pink the word “love” was displayed.
It wasn't until they were snuggled up in Minho's bed, showered and clean, that Jisung broke their blissful trance.
“Can we do that again?”
“Yes.” One thousand times, yes.
Minho would do anything for him and more.