Work Text:
Seonghyeon first saw Keonho on a Tuesday.
It was the second week of the school year, and Seonghyeon had just transferred to a new school. He was twelve, tall for his age, with a quiet demeanor that made him invisible. He sat in the back of the classroom.
And then he saw Keonho.
Keonho was small. Smaller than everyone else in the class. He sat in the front row, his head bowed, his shoulders hunched. He had dark brown hair that fell over his eyes.
Seonghyeon couldn't look away.
There was something about him. Something fragile. Something broken. Something that made Seonghyeon's chest ache in a way he didn't understand.
He watched Keonho all day. Watched the way he flinched when the teacher called his name. Watched the way he ate lunch alone, picking at his food. Watched the way he walked home, his head down, his steps quick.
Seonghyeon followed him.
He didn't know why. He just did.
He followed Keonho for weeks. He learned his routine. He learned where he lived, what time he left for school, what time he came home. He learned that Keonho had no friends, no family that picked him up, no one.
Seonghyeon started leaving things for him. Small things. A candy bar on his desk. A note in his locker. A flower on his doorstep.
Keonho never responded. But he never threw them away either.
Seonghyeon took that as a good sign.
By the time they were fourteen, Seonghyeon had become a constant presence in Keonho's life. He sat next to him in class. He ate lunch with him. He walked him home every day.
Keonho was still quiet, still shy, still fragile. But he smiled sometimes. Small, hesitant smiles that made Seonghyeon's heart race.
One day, Seonghyeon asked him out.
They were sitting on a bench in the park, watching the sun set. Keonho was drawing in a noteboo.
"Keonho," Seonghyeon said, his voice trembling.
Keonho looked up.
"I like you." Seonghyeon said. "I mean, I really like you. Will you be my boyfriend?"
Keonho stared at him for a long moment. Then he smiled. A real smile, not a hesitant one.
"Okay." he said.
Seonghyeon felt like he was flying.
Their relationship started sweet. Innocent. They held hands in the hallways. They kissed behind the gymnasium. They spent hours talking on the phone, falling asleep on the line.
But as the months passed, Seonghyeon started to notice things.
Small things at first. The way Keonho's eyes would light up when Seonghyeon got hurt. The way he would trace Seonghyeon's bruises with his fingers, a strange look on his face. The way he would bite his lip when Seonghyeon bled.
Seonghyeon should have been scared.
But he wasn't.
He was fascinated.
One night, they were in Seonghyeon's room, lying on his bed. Seonghyeon had a cut on his arm from a fall earlier that day. Keonho was tracing it with his finger, his touch light.
"Does it hurt?" Keonho asked.
"A little…" Seonghyeon said.
"Good." Keonho whispered.
He leaned down and licked the cut. The sensation sent a shiver down Seonghyeon's spine.
"Keonho..."
"Shh," Keonho said. "I want to taste you."
He bit down on the wound, hard. Seonghyeon gasped, his body arching. The pain was sharp, but it mixed with something else. Pleasure.
"More…" Seonghyeon whispered.
Keonho looked up, his eyes dark.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Keonho smiled. A cold, cruel smile that made Seonghyeon's heart race.
He pulled out a pocket knife from his bag.
"Then let's have some fun."
He cut Seonghyeon's arm again, deeper this time. The blood welled up, red and warm. Keonho licked it, sucked it, bit it.
Seonghyeon moaned.
He had never felt so alive.
From that night on, their relationship changed.
Keonho became more dominant. More demanding. He would tell Seonghyeon what to do, and Seonghyeon would obey. He would hurt Seonghyeon, and Seonghyeon would thank him.
It was sick, but they were in love.
They were in Seonghyeon's bedroom, the door locked, the curtains drawn. It was late, maybe midnight, and the only light came from the street.
Keonho had Seonghyeon pinned against the bed, his knees on either side of his hips. He had the knife in his hand.
"Are you scared?" Keonho asked.
"No." Seonghyeon said. And he meant it.
Keonho pressed the tip of the knife against Seonghyeon's chest, right over his heart. The pressure was light, just enough to break the skin. A single drop of blood welled up.
"You're mine," Keonho said. "Say it."
"I'm yours."
Keonho dragged the knife down, a slow, deliberate line from Seonghyeon's collarbone to his stomach. The cut was shallow, but it stung. Seonghyeon hissed, his body tensing.
"Don't move." Keonho said.
He leaned down and licked the blood, his tongue tracing the line of the cut. The sensation was electric, a mix of pain and pleasure that made Seonghyeon's head spin.
"Keonho…" he gasped.
"Shh," Keonho whispered. "Let me take care of you."
He cut another line, parallel to the first. Then another. And another. He made a pattern, a grid of shallow cuts across Seonghyeon's chest.
By the time he was done, Seonghyeon's chest was covered in thin red lines, blood dripping down his sides.
Keonho leaned down and pressed his mouth against the cuts, sucking the blood, drinking it.
"You taste so good," he murmured. "I could drink you forever."
Seonghyeon reached up and grabbed Keonho's hair, pulling him closer.
"Then do it," he said. "Drink me."
Keonho bit down on a cut, hard enough to make Seonghyeon cry out. He sucked the wound, drawing more blood, swallowing it.
When he pulled away, his lips were red, his teeth stained.
"Beautiful." he said.
He kissed Seonghyeon, forcing his own blood into his mouth. Seonghyeon swallowed, tasting himself, tasting Keonho.
"I love you." Seonghyeon said, his voice broken.
"I know," Keonho said. "That's why you let me hurt you."
The first time they had sex, Seonghyeon was eighteen and Keonho was sixteen.
They were in Keonho's bedroom, the lights dim, the air thick with tension. Keonho had Seonghyeon pinned against the bed, his hands around his throat.
"You're mine." Keonho said, his voice low.
"I know." Seonghyeon gasped.
Keonho leaned down and kissed him, hard and demanding. His tongue pushed into Seonghyeon's mouth, tasting him, claiming him.
He pulled away and grabbed Seonghyeon's wrists, pinning them above his head.
"Don't move."
Seonghyeon nodded.
Keonho reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. The same knife he had used before. He pressed the blade against Seonghyeon's chest, tracing a line down his sternum.
"Every time you move, I cut deeper."
Seonghyeon's breath hitched.
Keonho cut him. A shallow line across his collarbone. Blood beaded on the surface.
He leaned down and licked it off.
"You taste so good." he murmured.
He cut another line, lower this time, across Seonghyeon's stomach. Seonghyeon whimpered, his body trembling.
"Please," he whispered.
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me already."
Keonho smiled.
He put the knife aside and undid his pants. His cock was already hard, pressing against his boxers.
He didn't bother with foreplay. He didn't need to. He grabbed Seonghyeon's hips and pushed inside him, slow and deliberate.
Seonghyeon cried out. The pain was sharp, but it mixed with the pleasure, creating something overwhelming.
"You feel that?" Keonho whispered. "That's me inside you."
"Yes." Seonghyeon gasped.
Keonho fucked him slowly, each thrust deep and deliberate. He leaned down and bit Seonghyeon's neck, hard enough to draw blood.
"All mine." he said.
"Yours." Seonghyeon agreed.
Keonho sped up, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He grabbed Seonghyeon's cock and stroked it, matching his rhythm.
"Come for me." he commanded.
Seonghyeon obeyed.
He came with a cry, his body convulsing. Keonho followed moments later, spilling inside him.
They lay there, tangled together, covered in sweat and blood.
"I love you." Seonghyeon whispered.
They had their first real fight a few months later.
It started over something stupid. A text message. A misunderstanding. But it escalated quickly.
Seonghyeon had seen a message on Keonho's phone from someone he didn't recognize. A girl. She had sent a heart emoji. Seonghyeon's blood had boiled.
"Who is she?" Seonghyeon demanded.
"No one." Keonho said, his voice flat.
"Then why is she sending you hearts?"
"Because she's stupid."
Seonghyeon grabbed Keonho's wrist, his grip tight.
"Don't lie to me."
Keonho's eyes narrowed.
"I'm not lying. And even if I was, it's none of your business."
"None of my business?" Seonghyeon's voice cracked. "I'm your boyfriend. Everything about you is my business."
Keonho pulled his wrist free.
"You're being dramatic."
"I'm being realistic."
They were in Seonghyeon's apartment, the kitchen. Seonghyeon had his back against the counter, his hands shaking.
"You don't understand," Seonghyeon said, his voice raised. "You don't understand how I feel."
"Then explain it to me." Keonho said, his voice cold.
"You wouldn't get it."
"Try me."
Seonghyeon grabbed Keonho's wrist again, his grip tight.
"I love you," he said. "I love you so much it hurts. But sometimes I feel like you don't care. Like I'm just a toy to you."
Keonho's eyes narrowed.
"You are a toy," he said. "My toy."
Seonghyeon's face crumpled.
"That's not fair."
"So?"
Keonho pulled out his knife.
"You want me to prove that I care?"
He pressed the blade against his own arm.
"What are you doing?" Seonghyeon asked, his voice panicked.
"Proving a point."
He cut his arm, deep and long. Blood poured down his skin, dripping onto the floor.
"See?" he said. "I bleed for you too."
Seonghyeon stared at him, his eyes wide.
"Keonho..."
Keonho grabbed his hand and pressed it against the wound.
"Feel that? That's me. That's my blood. That's my love."
Seonghyeon started to cry.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry."
Keonho pulled him close.
"Don't be sorry," he whispered. "Just be mine."
The second time they had sex was after the fight.
They were in Seonghyeon's apartment, the lights off, the only sound was their breathing. Keonho had Seonghyeon on his knees, his face pressed against the floor.
"You need to learn your place." Keonho said.
"I know." Seonghyeon whispered.
Keonho grabbed his hair and pulled his head back.
"Open your mouth."
Seonghyeon obeyed.
Keonho pushed his cock into Seonghyeon's mouth, fucking his throat. Seonghyeon gagged, but he didn't pull away.
"Take it," Keonho said. "Take all of it."
He fucked his mouth for what felt like hours, using him, using his throat. When he came, he held Seonghyeon's head down, forcing him to swallow.
"Good." he said.
He pulled out and flipped Seonghyeon onto his back.
He grabbed the knife and cut Seonghyeon's chest, a deep line from his collarbone to his stomach. Seonghyeon screamed, but the sound was muffled by Keonho's hand.
"Shh," Keonho whispered. "You wanted this."
He pushed inside Seonghyeon, the blood making it slick. The pain was overwhelming, but Seonghyeon didn't fight it. He let Keonho take him, break him.
Keonho fucked him hard, each thrust hitting deep. He grabbed Seonghyeon's hips, his nails digging into the skin, leaving crescent-shaped cuts.
"You're mine," Keonho said, his voice low. "Say it."
"I'm yours." Seonghyeon gasped.
"Again."
"I'm yours."
"Again."
"I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours—"
Keonho came inside him, hot and thick. He stayed there for a moment, breathing hard, his body pressed against Seonghyeon's.
When he pulled out, he grabbed the knife again.
"One more mark," he said.
He cut Seonghyeon's inner thigh, a deep line that would scar. Seonghyeon screamed, but Keonho didn't stop until the cut was perfect.
"Now everyone will know," Keonho said. "Even when you wear shorts, they'll see my mark."
Seonghyeon looked down at the cut, blood running down his leg.
"Thank you." he whispered.
Keonho smiled.
"You're welcome."