Five Stars

Five Stars
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/27589957.
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Category: M/M
Fandom: Stray Kids (Band)
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Yang Jeongin | I.N, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee
Know, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin, Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Characters: Bang Chan, Seo Changbin, Yang Jeongin | I.N, Lee Felix (Stray Kids),
Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung | Han, Lee Minho | Lee Know, Kim
Seungmin
Additional Tags: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalism, Knifeplay, Dismemberment,
Orgies, Questionable Politics, Possessive!Hyunjin, Drug Use,
Recreational Drug Use, Blood Kink, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm,
meathooks, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation,
Walk-in Freezers, Some Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Animal Abuse,
Animal Death, Grooming, Murder, Twists that can't be revealed in tags,
Past Relationship(s), Pining, Mutual Pining, Bang Chan is Whipped, Lee
Minho & Bang Chan have history, Lovey Dovey, Minor Choi San/Jung
Wooyoung, Background characters - Freeform, The author keeps adding
tags as she writes, Please don't come for me, kim hongjoong - Freeform,
Implied/Referenced Suicide, No they don't eat each other, No they don't
mutilate each other
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of Cannibalistic Chefs
Stats: Published: 2020-11-16 Completed: 2022-03-20 Words: 420,690
Chapters: 35/35
Five Stars
by Mazauric
Summary
Yang Jeongin finds himself neck deep in shit he is not prepared to handle when he is abruptly
placed in deep undercover. At the heart of a series of disappearances is God's Menu, a
restaurant based in Busan and run by powerful businessman Bang Chan.
The more Jeongin looks into the restaurant and it's connection to the disappearances, the
closer he gets to the staff, the more he wishes he was never born.
Welcome to God's Menu.
Notes
A note for the adventurous reader: Please pay attention to the tags. There will be more tags
added later as this story progresses but please pay attention to the warnings.
A note about translations/artworks etc... I welcome all translations/artworks/tiktoks/videos

anything you like :) Please note however you need to credit me and let me know about them
(so I can promote them here :) ) Please do not rewrite/repost this story without permission
or credit.
I: Lupus In Fabula
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TRANSLATIONS: РУССКИЙ | ESPAÑOL | FRANÇAIS | TIẾNG VIỆT

TIKTOK: 1 | 2
Trailer made by the incomparable Sapphiamur
There comes a point in life where one has to stop, stare ahead and calculate every single
choice they’d made to put them exactly where they are now. For Yang Jeongin, the root of his
problem, the fork in the road that split his life between ‘semi-ok’ and ‘completely and utterly
fucked’ came in the form of Bang Chan.
He can pinpoint the exact moment it happened too. The moment he saw a picture of him,
blurry, taken of a CTV shot and he'd somehow agreed to a mission he was never going to be
prepared for.
“I need your arms, Jeongin.”
Looking up, the room around Jeongin sharpens and clears. He can see the clean white walls,
smell the over-sterilized scent of the ward and before him, the nurse watches him closely.
There’s a white material in her hands, the sleeves are ready for him and it takes his mind
longer than it should to realise what it is.
“N-no…”
“Jeongin,” the nurse pleads. “Please, cooperate with me.”
Jeongin’s legs push him back but he hits the wall behind him. His entire body feels cold and
he can’t stop shivering.
A straitjacket. She’s trying to put him in a straitjacket.
He sees the doors behind her open, the security guards walk in and Jeongin barely has
enough time to whimper before they grab him and force his arms into the sleeves.
“No, no!” he sobs as the nurse uses a surprising amount of strength to push his arms around
and tie the sleeves at the back. “No please!”
Then comes the muzzle. Jeongin cries, he tries to rip his head out of the way but when the
guards grab him, the nurse fixes the muzzle to his face and pulls the belt a little tighter than it
needs to be.
He wants to scream, to thrash himself out of the restraints and run but when they hold him
still, he sees the flicker of a needle, just a split second before the prick hits the back of his
neck. He squeaks, the drug hits him before he has a real chance to register what it is, where
he is and why.
They leave him in a padded room, lock the door, close the window and they would throw
away the key if they could.
Because Yang Jeongin is a clinically verified psychotic murderer.
2 Years Earlier
Jeongin never liked the chief’s office. When he was younger, it was because he was here to
get the scolding of a lifetime. Now as a (near) adult, it was because he was here to get the
scolding of a lifetime - professionally.
When his father learnt of the birth of his son shortly after his return from mandatory
enlistment, he’d dreamt of a boy who would grow to be a man. A man like him. Unafraid to
take chances, hard, disciplined and above all, a man who would hold the same ideals and
moralistic values as his own.
What he got was Jeongin. Sweet, introverted, stuttery little Jeongin who was so painfully shy
he never made many friends. A boy who wouldn’t last one second in the world his father had
hoped for him. Not for lack of trying either, his father tried so hard. He got Jeongin to join
him on patrol (sit in the back of the cop car and watch his father in action - which actually
ended in panic attacks because Jeongin hated seeing violence). He tried to get Jeongin to do
sports, help him fix cars - when Jeongin was 14, he set him up on a date with the daughter of
his work colleague.
It didn’t end well, in fact the girl ended up talking the entire night and Jeongin spent a good
three hours wishing he was home in bed.
His mother had other plans. Jeongin was sweet, shy, beautiful and she signed him up for
modelling opportunities even though his father protested. They liked Jeongin’s sweet
disposition, how he’d smile meekly at the camera. They liked how he always showed more
concern for the other models and photographers on set than for himself.
Neither parent bothered to ask what Jeongin wanted for himself. Mind you, even if they had
asked, he wouldn’t have known what to tell them. He never had a dream for himself, a hobby,
something he wanted to pursue.
Perhaps this is why his father won when he sent Jeongin off to police training camp early to
get him to follow in his footsteps.
Now here he was, an undergraduate, nineteen year old cop-to-be, sitting here once again and
waiting for his father to waltz in and tell him what he did wrong this time.
The door opens and Jeongin’s spine automatically stiffens as he stands to greet the chief - his
father. The man barely acknowledges Jeongin as he walks in and takes a seat at his desk.
“Sit.”
Jeongin obeys without a word. He won’t ever relax in the presence of his father and he never
has been able to. His mind tries to think through anything that might have warranted a verbal
bashing but honestly, he hasn’t stepped a toe out of line recently. He’s been good. Even his
physical, mental and emotional testing scores have come back excellent so for once, he’s a
little confused about why he’s here.
Then his father presses a button and the blinds on the windows close with a quiet metallic
groan and Jeongin’s stomach drops.
Shit.
“Something has come up,” his father says and Jeongin hates that tone. “I’m sure you’re aware
of our ongoing investigation into the Busan Disappearances?”
Jeongin nods. Only someone living in a cave would be unaware of that particular shitshow.
Five years ago, people started going missing. Not the usual kind of people, not the usual
amount either. This was a lot of people, more than the police were permitted to ignore, with
missing persons cases slapped onto the walls of the train stations.
No trace, low-risk citizens, no history with anyone who could possibly want to hurt them, no
witnesses and no suspects either. A clean sweep. People were just disappearing and there was
nothing to be done about it, not even a breadcrumb to go off of. Public dissatisfaction with
the local investigation teams turned ugly quick and it soon became a nationwide problem
rather than simply a local one.
But five years had passed and despite millions of thousands of police resources looking into
every single kidnapping (of which, as of five years ago, had expanded exponentially and now
scraped across not only Busan but also Seoul, Daegu, Incheon and even three weird
disappearances in Jeju Island.) nothing came up. No clues, no nothing.
So the police, who were by now scratching their heads in frustration, began trying to look at
it differently. Investigations stopped, strangely enough, at a chain of restaurants that popped
up in all five cities around the same time as the murders.
The name? God's Menu.
Looking into it was like opening Pandora’s Box. The establishments were run by the son of
the current Prime Minister and that alone was like hitting a mine that could explode at any
moment. But what really made this restaurant interesting was the fact that it’s moderate
success by no means merited the name.
Their menu is not outstanding, the customer base is not amazing and yet it managed four
more restaurants and none of them hurt for money. Stranger still was the list of staff in the
Busan branch in particular, the first restaurant and the one where the CEO, Christopher Bang,
visited most. When the police looked into them, they hit roadblocks. Bureaucratic roadblocks
that stopped them in their tracks and more political nudges to stop warrants.
Needless to say, the police knew when something stank and God's Menu absolutely reeked.
“We had a deep undercover agent in the Busan branch of God's Menu,” the chief says after a
moment of checking to make sure his office is secure. “He’s dead.”
Jeongin blinks at him and waits for him to go on.
“Official ruling from the coroner is an accident involving a gas cylinder,” the chief huffs.
“But my gut calls bullshit. What we’ve been able to figure out is that Christopher Bang has
fingers everywhere, including in our own force. We don’t know who to trust, who not to trust
and it’s not out of the realm of possibilities that he could have some coroners in his pocket as
well. He can spin it however he likes and if he found out our agent was a cop...well…”
Jeongin stares at him and he can feel his fingertips growing cold with the growing realisation
that his father is driving to a point here and it’s one to do with him.
“His reports, before his death, have proven that something strange is going on with God's
Menu but he needed longer to figure that out,” the chief sighs heavily and finally turns his
eyes on his son. “That’s where you come in.”
“Wait, wait,” Jeongin pales and holds his hand up. His father looks surprised that he’d even
spoken up but Jeongin knows where this is going and this is the last thing he wants. “I’m still
an undergrad, I’m not even a cop yet!”
“Exactly,” his father rebuts. “Your name is not anywhere in the system, no one knows you
and our relationship as father and son is a well kept secret.”
In hindsight, Jeongin will wonder if he should be more hurt that his father went to great
lengths to make sure no one knew he was his son but in the long run he will figure it was
probably for the best.
“I am nowhere near ready or capable of the job you’re offering,” Jeongin manages, his voice
steady albeit terrified as he faces his father properly. “I’m not, I’ll just get killed like your last
agent.”
“You won’t,” his father promises. “Because you are exactly what all the other agents were
not. You are inexperienced and extremely young. If Christopher Bang is expecting an
undercover cop, you are the last thing he will be looking for. We need that.”
Jeongin still shakes his head. He’s trying to stop his body shaking as well but he can’t help it.
He’s terrified. The job is suicide and he’s weaker than a lamb being shipped off to slaughter.
“You will of course be trained,” his father continues as though he’s already said yes. “Your
firearms record isn’t as great as I’d like it to be but you are intelligent. Your test scores for
mental aptitude are well above average - that will help.”
“Father please,” Jeongin pleads. “I can’t do this.”
“You’ll need to learn how to cook,” his father continues as though he hasn’t heard him. “It’s a
restaurant after all.”
Jeongin isn’t exactly sure how his father manages to strongarm him into actually agreeing to
the suicide job but he’s immediately pulled out of his studies and shoved into intensive
training. They shove a gun in his hand and tell him to shoot the targets, they test him on his
knowledge of poisons, psychological situations. They send him to classes for English, French
and Japanese and they teach him how to cook.
Jeongin’s days turn to long, grueling 5am to 10pm days of nothing but endless training in
various fields.
Perhaps the only good part of the training is his main tutor - a hardened, longtime cop named
Nishimoto Toya. Japanese-Korean, rather difficult to understand and yet a lot of what he said
made perfect sense to Jeongin. He’s one of those rare people who think before they speak -
the result of which is everything Toya says, makes perfect sense. Sharp, straight and to the
point - blunt to a fault but Jeongin found he liked that quality.
Although Jeongin is shipped off to many different people for different kinds of training, Toya
is his main trainer. It’s him who teaches Jeongin how to shoot a gun properly, how to arm
himself, how to watch for hazards in a potentially dangerous area - even first aid.
“Gotta learn when a wound is gonna kill ya and when it ain’t,” Toya huffs at him, thick
Osaka accent toying with his Korean and making him a little difficult to understand. “No
student of mine is gonna make the dumb mistake of ignoring a wound that’ll kill him slowly.
Now stitch this cut properly and don’t forget the gauze.”
It takes six months and when he’s nowhere near mentally ready enough, they ship him off to
Busan with his mission drilled so far into his brain it might as well be tattooed on his
forehead: Get into Gods Menu. Get close to the staff and personnel. Especially Christopher
Bang.
Deep undercover means no ties at all. Not to the police, not to his parents, no one. When
Jeongin steps out onto Busan soil for the first time, he takes a deep breath. Somehow, despite
being a city just like Seoul, the air smells different here. A little more salty, perhaps. Closer to
the sea. Reminds him of his school trip to Jeju Island when he was ten.
On the train, he runs over his backstory once again. Seoul roots, here to stay with a sick
grandmother in Busan and out to earn money in the meantime. It’s solid enough and the
grandmother he’s staying with is at least incapable of giving him away.
She’s actually the grandmother of one of the officers in the hacking agency. According to
him, her memory is so shot that she’s not going to remember her real grandson, let alone the
fake one that will be living with her. Alzheimer's. No one will think twice if she says she
doesn’t know him.
Of course that doesn’t mean that the thought of any of this doesn’t put Jeongin at least a little
on edge. When the train rolls to his stop, he gets off and makes the twenty minute walk to the
two story house as directed on his phone. He stops in front of the gates, looking over the tiny
garden in the front lawn. The quaint collection of pretty gemstones lining along the path to
the steps leading to the front door.
It’s a beautiful house. Old, worn down with time but well cared for.
Sitting on the deck chair just left of the door is someone he can only assume is Yang Minji.
She’s sitting hunched over a little, long white hair tied back into a single ponytail. She’s
wearing a long, grey dress and Jeongin can see her slippers peeking out from under the hem.
There’s a vacant look in her eye and it doesn’t disappear even as Jeongin approaches her.
“Is that you, Minnie?” she asks when he’s close enough. She cranes her head up to look over
him and he can see her confusion for a few moments as she tries to figure out what to make
of him.
“Hello,” Jeongin bows politely. “I’m Jeongin, I’ll be staying with you for awhile.”
Minji looks confused but there’s something that clicks because she finally stands and pulls
him into a hug.
“I missed you, Minnie,” she tells him as she takes his hand and leads him inside. “I always
told them, you know, that you’d visit. I was right, see? I was right.”
Jeongin has to wonder how severe her Alzheimer's is that she can’t even recognise that the
person she’s talking to is not her grandson or ‘Minnie’ at all. He’d been told ‘middle stage’
whatever that meant and he has to wonder if it’s also a bit of dementia going on there too.
She really doesn’t seem aware that he’s a complete stranger and it only puts Jeongin even
more on edge.
The inside of the house smells of cat piss. The carpet is old, well worn and suspiciously dark
in some areas. Jeongin spots a few cats in the living room. One brushes against his leg when
he nears the stairs and he almost trips over it.
“I told you, I told you,” Minji keeps saying and at first, Jeongin has no idea who she’s talking
to. It’s not until she looks down that he realises she’s talking to the cats. “I told you my
Minnie would come back to me!”
As evening sets in, Jeongin sets himself up in ‘Minnie’s’ bedroom. It’s a small little room
with a single bed, a closet, desk and a window overlooking the street and front yard of the
house. Jeongin sees the street lights turn on as darkness sets in and he can hear Minji banging
around in the kitchen downstairs.
He comes down and finds her there, humming to herself as she sets a large pot on the kitchen
table.
“Minnie, sit,” she tells him. “I’m just making dinner.”
“Let me help,” Jeongin offers as he steps forward and takes the pot with an awkward smile.
“Actually, please let me cook for you. I’ve been away so long.”
“Minnie, you can cook?” Minji breathes, absolutely astonished. She lets go easily enough and
settles at the table to watch him. “Okay.”
Jeongin takes a look through her refrigerator and freezer. He takes out any food beyond its
use-by date and whips up a bowl of bulgogi through what’s left. It’s not his best work but
Minji seems perfectly happy with the dish, praising ‘Minnie’ the whole way through and
happily eating two bowls by herself.
Jeongin sees her off to bed and when he’s sure she’s unconscious, he heads to his room and
sets up his laptop on the desk.
The first task is getting a foot in God's Menu and with the last agent, that’s not going to be
easy. If nothing else, Bang Chan is going to be wary of potential spies even when he’s short
one staff member. Jeongin looks over the website for the restaurant and bites his lip.
His father had told him his age worked for him. Chan was going to be expecting someone
older, at least old enough to be a trained spy. Jeongin wasn’t old enough to be a graduated
officer, let alone one undercover. But then his age was going to work against him too. God's
Menu isn’t exactly a high class restaurant but as a self respecting restaurant, they are going to
be looking for someone experienced enough to work with them.
What Jeongin has going for him is several intensive cooking classes. At least, on paper he
does.
Still, he needs one way in and if Chan isn’t going to advertise an open position to avoid
another spy, then Jeongin needs another way in.
Pulling a folder from his suitcase, he lays it out on his bed. Files of the staff working in the
Busan branch. Their faces are clipped to the top left corner of their file, all staring up at him.
Two mugshots, school photos and CTV shots, the police had pulled up whatever they could.
Jeongin spends a moment pouring over the files, learning as much as he can about each and
every single one. If he wants an introduction, the logical choices would be the two closest to
Chan - Jisung and Changbin. Unfortunately, both of them have criminal records. Mugshots
taken from years back when they were pulled up for vandalism, drug dealing and reckless
driving charges.
Both are going to be extremely suspicious of anyone approaching them too, they’re not safe
options.
His eyes flick to Hyunjin and he has to cross that option out before he can even entertain it.
Hyunjin’s beautiful face stares up at him, an old shot from school but Jeongin already knows
the boy is going to be suspicious the moment he says hello. With a history of domestic abuse
from his father, Hyunjin’s trust isn’t going to be easily gained.
Seungmin is out as well. Of all the staff members, Seungmin was the hardest to find. What
they could find wasn’t very encouraging. From what Jeongin can gather, the other doesn’t go
out of his way to meet new people so he’d find Jeongin suspicious right away.
Easy choices would be either Minho or Felix. Both of whom meet new people every day and
don’t think twice about it. Felix is a known member of a group of foreigners who meet up
once a week with locals to practice Korean and Minho is a member of a ‘cat society’ (Jeongin
honestly had no idea that was a thing until he looked it up) basically a group of people who
own cats and meet up with their cats.
Singling the two out, Jeongin lays their files side by side and looks over them. He doesn’t
have a cat so Felix is going to be the easiest. It helps that he’s Australian - just like Chan - so
chances are he’s closer than Minho. But Minho is the one who was caught on CTV more
often than the others (aside from Jisung and Changbin) if he’s going to get close to Chan,
Minho is the most logical and guaranteed choice.
Groaning to himself, Jeongin takes a deep breath and looks over the two in front of him.
Eventually he just closes his eyes, hovers his finger over the photos and slams his index
finger down. When he opens his eyes, Minho’s picture is a little crinkled where his finger
stabbed the middle.
“Okay,” he sighs. “Guess I better get a cat.”
The tortoiseshell kitten squirms in his arms as he walks into the room. ‘Meow Society’ is not
a place Jeongin ever thought he’d walk into and yet here he is, with a kitten that is digging
her claws into his wrists.
There are more people here than he thought there would be. Jeongin holds his kitten to his
chest and looks around. There are little bowls lined along the wall, cat food bags on the table
with notes marking out the different flavours and what age they’re appropriate for. There are
some cats wandering around freely and others - like Jeongin - still keeping theirs close.
A woman with dark hair tied into a tight ponytail approaches him with an unnaturally large
smile and a fluffy grey cat that looks more pissed off than anything else.
“You’re new,” she says. “Never seen you around here before.”
“I just moved here from Seoul,” Jeongin replies and tries not to wince when the cat scratches
at his arm. “This is Onyx.”
“Onyx, nice name,” the woman beams and holds up her grumpy cat. “This is Mr. Happy.”
Jeongin blinks at the narrowed eyes of the cat, the growl it lets out as she holds it up away
from her chest. It looks anything but happy.
“So,” he carries on. “What do we do here? I’m new and I thought I might benefit from some
friends in the area but...admittedly I’m out of my element.”
“Well cats are very social creatures,” the woman explains happily. “It’s good for them to meet
with other cats and play with them. That’s what this society is for. Plus it’s nice finding like
minded people, people who are just as crazy about cats as you are.”
Jeongin looks up when he notices Minho coming in through the door. He has three cats
somehow bundled in his arm. Each cat has a different coloured jewel collar and unlike
Jeongin’s own cat, they seem quite content to snuggle into Minho’s chest.
The more Jeongin stares, the more he realises that Minho himself has feline features. The
shape of his eyes and face, even the graceful way he carries himself. If he jumped off a
building, he’d probably land perfectly on his feet.
Minho sets his cats down on the floor and they seem to know the drill right away. They
skitter off towards the bowls and Minho greets some people on his way towards the water
dispenser in the corner.
Just as Jeongin is trying to think of a way to approach him, the woman he was talking to
suddenly calls for him.
“Minho!” she chirps happily. “We have a newbie!”
Minho looks up, he abandons the water and glides over. The closer he gets, the more cat-like
he appears. Absurdly long legs, his boots shine and he’s wearing a light blue sweater covered
in cat hair. Jeongin can’t help but stare a little. The police CTV shots did him no justice, he’s
majestic.
“Hello,” Minho smiles. “Never seen you around here.”
“He’s from Seoul,” the woman helpfully adds with a large grin. “Just like you!”
A wry grin paints Minho’s features. “I’m from Gimpo, noona,” he corrects gently before
turning to Jeongin properly. “Lee Minho, and you are?”
“Yang Jeongin,” Jeongin replies automatically. “I just moved here. Me and…” he looks down
at the kitten and Minho’s eyes flick down to it as well.
“Tortoiseshell,” Minho comments as his hand reaches out to gently stroke the fur between its
ears. Jeongin watches as the kitten immediately calms. Where it had been scratching and
squirming against Jeongin, it immediately relaxes the second Minho touches it.
“Her name is Onyx,” Jeongin says, he can’t help but smile. He’s happy the kitten isn’t
scratching him anymore but it’s helpful that Minho warms immediately upon contact with the
kitten.
“Pretty name,” Minho comments and holds his arm out. “May I?”
Jeongin gladly hands her over and she seems to want to go to Minho as well. She curls
happily into his chest and mewls at him. Jeongin can practically see Minho melting as he
looks over her.
“Can’t be more than thirteen weeks old,” Minho comments, his nimble fingers gently moving
the kitten around as he examines it. “Look at that fur though, glossy and beautiful, what are
you feeding this thing?”
“Just the normal cat meat,” Jeongin lies and tries to recall the last food he’d bought for it. He
hadn’t really looked at it, just picked something off the shelf that looked vaguely appropriate.
“She likes chicken.”
“I’ll bet,” Minho chuckles and scratches behind Onyx’s ears.
Jeongin watches and as he does, Toya’s words echo in his mind.
“They’re dangerous. You gotta remember that, keep it in mind always. They’re dangerous.
People go missing and we don’t find a trace, there’s gotta be something they’re doing to ‘em.
Feeding their bones to pigs, vat of acid, you name it - I wouldn’t put it past ‘em. Especially
that Christopher Bang. Nothing is beyond that one.”
“So what brings you to Busan?” Minho asks, a great deal warmer with Onyx in his arms.
She’s purring happily and Jeongin can’t help but feel a little sour that she warmed to him
immediately when she’d spent the last hour scratching him to pieces.
“I’m looking after my grandmother,” he says with a bright smile. A carefully crafted
backstory he’d said so many times the lie felt true even to him. “She’s too sick to go to Seoul,
so I came to Busan to look after her myself.”
“How kind,” the woman beside them says. Jeongin had almost forgotten she was there.
“And...well...I don’t know anyone here,” Jeongin chuckles. “First step is moving in, second
step is getting a job - wish me luck.”
It’s bait. Just a little bait thrown out there but he notices something flick in Minho’s eyes. He
doesn’t say anything, certainly doesn’t offer Jeongin a job right then and there but the bait is
there and Jeongin quickly changes the subject when Onyx mewls.
“I think she might be hungry,” he says and Minho gently hands her back to him. “I’ll go get
her something to eat.”
“Nice to meet you, Jeongin,” Minho smiles and once again Jeongin can’t help but notice how
beautifully feline his features are. It’s strikingly pretty in the strangest way.
“Nice to meet you too,” Jeongin says, somehow managing not to stutter as he walks away.
He feels Minho’s eyes on the back of his head as he walks away.
There’s a spot on the ceiling. Minho’s been staring at it for the last twenty minutes and that’s
not to say Jisung is doing a shit job, it’s just distracting.
Minho’s hands are clutching Jisung’s back, nails digging in like claws and leaving red lines
on sweaty skin as the other drives into him. As always, he feels amazing. Minho’s toes curl
and everything but that spot, that fucking spot is very distracting that he finds himself staring
up at it even though he should be paying more attention to Jisung.
He hears the other groan in his ear and his body physically reacts when he finally feels
himself cum. Relief floods his senses and for a moment, he can even close his eyes and just
enjoy it.
But then he opens them again and there’s that spot, a stain on the ceiling.
Breathless, Jisung rolls off him and flops onto the bed to catch his breath. When he has
enough energy left, Minho leans up to get a better look.
“What’s that spot on the ceiling?”
“The what?” Jisung pants, still quite out of it.
“That,” Minho points to the little brown spot on the white ceiling. “That spot, what is that?”
Jisung opens one eye, he follows Minho’s attention to the spot and shrugs. “Fucked if I
know.”
“It’s really distracting,” Minho comments as he gets up from the bed and throws his robe
around himself.
Jisung watches as Minho then stands on the bed and cranes his head up to get a closer look.
“Minho. Baby?”
“Mm?”
“Were you staring at that spot the whole time I was fucking you?”
“It’s really distracting.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Jisung huffs. “Geez, you know how to pamper an ego.”
Minho doesn’t answer and Jisung can’t be bothered to move as he watches the other scratch
at the ceiling until a bit of the brown spot rubs off.
“The fuck is this?”
Minho seems quite determined as he hops off the bed and heads into the bathroom. Jisung
watches as he comes back with a cloth and climbs back on the bed again to scrub at the
ceiling.
“It’s...ramen,” Minho gasps when he picks at a particularly stubborn piece. “Oh my fucking
god, how the fuck did you get ramen on your ceiling?!”
Jisung shrugs and tries to look innocent when Minho sends a scathing look down at him. He
then scrubs at the rest of the blotch until it’s completely gone before coming down again to
get rid of the cloth and climb back into bed.
Jisung watches him. “...better?”
“Much,” Minho sighs in contentment. “Honestly though, how did you manage that?”
“Dunno, ask Chan,” Jisung yawns as he rolls into Minho’s side and curls his arm around his
middle. “He’s the one who keeps sneaking food in my room when he stays over. Him and
Binnie.”
“You three are the worst when you’re together,” Minho huffs but he wraps an arm around
Jisung’s shoulders and lets the other curl in as much as he likes. “How’s the restaurant
anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m not on staffing,” Minho reminds him. “And I’m not in the kitchen either but I hear
a lot from Felix about how understaffed you lot are.”
Jisung lets out along sigh and runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah, ever since that last guy
turned out to be a fucking cop, Chan’s cut off the possibility of hiring someone to take his
place. Especially so soon, says it’s too risky and the cops might just send another one in.”
“What if we hire locally?” Minho suggests and Jisung, sensing he’s needling to a point, lifts
his head to look at him properly.
“Got someone in mind?”
Minho nods. “Met a kid today, he just moved here from Seoul. He’s too young to be an
undercover cop and...he did say he was looking for work.”
Jisung still looks unconvinced and Minho adds: “He’s pretty cute too.”
“Name?”
“Yang Jeongin,”
“No.”
“Chan-”
“Fuck no.”
“Chan, come on, I’m dying here,” Felix begs. “So the last guy turned out to be a cop, that
doesn’t mean they’re lining at the door to send the next one in. Not after what we did to the
last one!”
Chan eyes him warily. When Jisung had asked for an afternoon meeting, he certainly hadn’t
thought it would be to push the idea of a newbie onto him. He’d have expected such a move
from Seungmin or Felix. Jisung isn’t particularly concerned if the restaurant is understaffed
so this move had come indirectly from Minho - but still.
“Guys, you’re killing me,” he says as he buries his face in his hands. Fingers tugging at the
platinum blonde locks curtaining his forehead. “Look, the fact that we found a cop in here at
all is concerning. I knew they were onto this place before and that’s fine but they had
someone in here.”
“Minnie said the kid is too young to be an undercover anything, let alone a cop,” Jisung
shrugs. “I’m not saying hire the kid - maybe he can’t even cook - but at least look into him.”
“Please,” Felix begs again. “We are understaffed, Chan. Thanks to that asshole, I’m doing his
job and mine and I need you to find me a replacement.”
Chan groans loudly and finally lifts his head, hair now a mess thanks to his tugging. “Fine,
fuck it, fine, I’ll get Changbin to look into him. But if he doesn’t check out, I reserve the right
to say no.”
“Fine, at least just look,” Felix sighs. “And if he doesn’t check out, then maybe we can find
someone else. I just need someone to take the load off me.”
“Yes, fine, yes, I’ll do it,” Chan promises. He smooths his hair down with a swipe of his hand
and flicks at Felix, a silent sign that their conversation is over. Felix rolls his eyes but he
leaves and when the door closes behind him, Jisung can’t help but grin.
“Felix is the only one of your staff who would get away with rolling his eyes at you,” he
comments as Chan picks up his phone and starts firing a message off to Changbin. “You’re
too soft on him.”
“Felix is different,” Chan mutters, his fingers tapping fast and when he’s done, he drops the
phone back down onto his desk. “About the other guy…”
“The guy who introduced the cop to us in the first place?” Jisung finishes with a nod. “He’s
still in the freezer, still alive.”
“Good,” Chan mutters, his eyes darkening as he slowly gets up from his chair. “Let’s pay him
a visit, bring Hyunjin.”
Where some restaurants in Busan are found in buildings that house other establishments,
Gods Menu stands alone. A two story building located just a little out of the way of the main
city, Gods Menu had been designed with an infinite budget courtesy of Chan. The entire
building itself is modelled after greek architecture. Particularly that of the coliseums.
The front is lined with Corinthian columns, the entire building itself circular in shape rather
than the traditional square or rectangle. Inside, Chan had insisted on the unique design paying
homage to the Greek gods carved into the walls, the tables and chairs scattered about rich red
carpet. Despite it’s archaic design on the outside, the inside is decked with speakers,
comfortable furniture, walls lined with aquariums and live fish swimming back and forth
where they separate private tables.
But the real heart of the restaurant lay in its basement. Accessible only through a trapdoor in
the kitchen area where Jisung slowly lifts it and waits for Hyunjin and Chan to climb down.
In the kitchen, Felix and Seungmin ignore the three and continue working even as Jisung
closes the door behind them and follows them down into the cold area known as their freezer.
It’s no rectangular ice box, but instead an entire room sealed with a large metal door that
Jisung opens after tapping in the code to unlock it.
The chill hits the three of them but none wince as they walk into the ice cold room and stare
at the man hanging from the ceiling by his ankles.
“Well fuck,” Hyunjin comments first as he reaches up to grab the man’s hair and tug a little.
“Think Binnie went a little overboard.”
“Fucker’s still alive, that’s all I care about,” Chan sniffs and nods to the chair in the back of
the room. “Bring that over and pull him down. I wanna talk.”
Hyunjin and Jisung do as he says without hesitation. The chair rattles noisily against the
concrete floor as Hyunjin drags it in place whilst Jisung brings their prisoner down to the
floor with a thump hard enough to wake him up.
His name is Shinhwa and he’s easily twice their age but whatever Changbin did to him was
enough to break him body and soul because the second he opens his eyes and realises where
he is, he starts crying. Weak, rattling sobs even as Jisung pulls him up by his arms and drags
him onto the chair for Hyunjin to tie him down.
Chan waits patiently, hands deep in his pocket and he fights the itch to stick something in his
mouth as the two finally step back and let Chan step forward so Shinhwa can see him.
The second he does and his fried brain realises what Chan means, he sobs harder.
“Oh don’t start on that,” Chan scolds. “Surely you knew this was coming the second you
heard about your friend.”
“I...I didn’t…”
“One more lie and I’ll cut out your tongue,” Chan warns and to prove his point, he brings out
a switchblade from his pocket. The click of the blade is enough to shut Shinhwa up.
“Your mate,” Chan continues. “Choi Sungho. You introduced him to us and on your
recommendation, I hired him. Turns out he’s a fucking cop so-” his hand reaches out and
Shinhwa screams as he snatches his hair and yanks his head back. “How long have you been
working for the Feds?” he hisses. “Who else in my staff did you worm in here?”
“I didn’t know! I didn’t know!” Shinhwa screams, his eyes staring at the blade as though
fearful Chan will suddenly flick his eyes out. “I swear I didn’t know!”
“Your mate folded easily,” Chan hisses, Australian accent tinging his words with anger as his
grip on Shinhwa’s hair tightens. “I want names. A list. I want those fucking rats out of my
restaurants and if you don’t have that for me in the next hour, the next premium dish in this
restaurant will have your fucking name on it!”
Shinhwa grunts as Chan lets him go roughly and stands straight to turn to Hyunjin. “If he
doesn’t spit out at least one name by the end of the hour, run a blade through his Achilles.”
When Jeongin walks in with Onyx in his arms for the third meeting, he doesn’t expect Minho
to rush straight for him. It’s been a comfortable six weeks already and he hadn’t mentioned
job searching again after the first hint and he’s been quietly biding his time, coming to the
fortnightly meetings and looking after Minji - who still has no idea who he is.
Minho’s large, feline grin distracts him as he sets the kitten down and it toddles off towards
the bowls on its own.
“Jeongin,” Minho beams as he comes up to him. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing yet,” Jeongin smiles and he can’t help being a little nervous. “Why? What do you
have in mind?”
“Are you still looking for a job?” Minho asks hopefully. “Because there’s a restaurant I work
for, God’s Menu, they’re looking. If you don’t mind a job interview?”
Jeongin has to fight to hide his glee. He didn’t think it would be this easy but it landed in his
lap. Patient waiting, six weeks of patient waiting since the first hint and here it is. A foot in
the door.
“I-I’d love to.”
“Brilliant,” Minho beams. “I’ll text you the address and time.”
He flutters off just as quickly as he’d approached and Jeongin feels a strange simultaneous
buzz of excitement and absolute, mind-numbing fear.
He’s in.
Oh shit, he’s in.
The pictures and CTV footage of Gods’ Menu do not accurately capture the building in
person. Standing before the columns, Jeongin’s eyes roam freely over the intricate carvings
into stone, the polished marble of the entranceway floors and the gold lettering above the
door with the chalkboard menu tastefully set beside the open doors.
He feels he’s overdressed. A suit that, in the summer heat, feels unbearably stuffy. Minji
commented wistfully that he looked just like his father - a comment that fell flat considering
she still thinks he’s someone else. As he looks over the building, a tall, beautiful, blonde
haired boy comes out from the building and walks towards him with a smile.
Jeongin recognises him immediately from the photos. Hyunjin.
“You must be Yang Jeongin,” Hyunjin says, coming to a stop right before him. “I’m Hyunjin,
come around the backdoor, the interview room is there.”
The photos didn’t do him justice. None of the photos did any of them any justice. Jeongin is,
for a moment, completely thrown off guard by the effortless and striking attractiveness that is
Hyunjin. The way he walks, the flick of his blonde locks tied back in a loose ponytail, the
way the restaurant uniform fits him perfectly and yet the black silk never seems to touch his
skin.
Jeongin has to check he’s not drooling.
They go around the restaurant to the back where Hyunjin pushes a heavy door open and leads
Jeongin into what appears to be a little office room. There’s a single desk with a computer,
files stacked along the walls and two chairs. Compared to the grandness that is the rest of the
restaurant, this office falls woefully flat.
Gesturing to the seat meant for guests, Hyunjin takes out a glass of water from the tray on
one of the shelves and hands it to Jeongin.
“You’ll be interviewed by Chan,” he tells him. “He’ll be here soon.”
With that, he leaves and Jeongin quickly looks around the office. He can’t see any security
cameras...not that he needs to do anything suspicious. Toya had told him to assume there
were always cameras, always someone watching. Deep cover means never letting his guard
down and he’s really feeling that now.
He drains the water quickly and waits. His knee jiggles and he takes a deep breath in a
fruitless attempt to calm himself.
It’s only ten minutes but it feels like an hour before that door finally opens again and Chan
himself walks in. Jeongin shoots up and before he can attempt a bow, Chan’s hands are
already holding his shoulders.
“No need for that, calm down,” Chan assures him with a small chuckle. He pats Jeongin’s
shoulder and sits him back down. “I hate interviews too. Especially when they’re formal,
adulting is hard enough without having to follow stupid rules. Just relax.”
For a moment, all Jeongin can do is blink at him. That is the literal opposite of what he was
expecting but nevertheless he tries to take a deep breath. He sits up in his chair and when
Chan offers another glass of water, he takes it with a small mumble of thanks.
Chan sits down opposite him. He looks over Jeongin for a moment and tilts his head. “Aren’t
you hot in that?” he asks, pointing to the jacket. “It’s like 30 degrees outside, it’s boiling and
you’re wearing a suit jacket.”
Jeongin nods and Chan laughs. “Take it off, you must be dying in there.”
Jeongin gladly takes the jacket off. His elbows and arms are doused in sweat but he feels
better for the small rush of cool air. Especially when Chan brings out a tiny desk fan, points it
at Jeongin and turns it on, he can’t help but groan in relief.
Chan just laughs. “I haven’t done interviews in a while but you poor thing, you looked like
you were boiling yourself. If you need to pop the first two buttons of your shirt open, I don’t
mind. It’s fucking hot today.”
Jeongin smiles shyly and sits up, he’s grateful for the fan and Chan’s approach is certainly
doing it’s job to relax him but it’s not why he’s here.
“So um,” he begins, a little shyly. “About the job?”
“Oh right,” Chan says, as though he’d temporarily forgotten too. “So basically I need
someone in the kitchens. Dishes, serving customers eventually - can you cook?”
“Yes, I took intensive gourmet courses,” Jeongin replies. It’s on his resume but he explains
anyway. “And baking, French and Italian cuisine too.”
“Handy,” Chan comments with an impressed grin. “You’re so young too. Have you always
liked to cook?”
“Yeah,” Jeongin lies with ease. “Before she got sick, my grandmother taught me a lot and I
learnt the rest on my own. Took courses in my free time.”
Chan nods and Jeongin has never had a job interview but he imagines this part is probably
normal. Gaging Chan’s thoughts is no easy feat. Maybe it’s nerves but he can’t tell if he’s
said the right thing or the wrong thing.
“Minho told me why you’re in Busan,” Chan continues. “Sick grandma?”
“Alzheimer's,” Jeongin nods. “She can’t remember a lot of things these days, can’t leave her
alone like that.”
“But you’re so young,” Chan needles and clearly he’s looking for something but it puts
Jeongin on edge. “Surely there’s someone else who can look after her? Your parents? A
nursing home? If it’s that bad, maybe professional help is needed.”
Jeongin blinks and Chan quickly adds: “I don’t mean to sound like I’m butting in your life
but...kid you’re only nineteen. I think it’s admirable that you want to care for your
grandmother but at nineteen I was doing things like going out with friends, thinking about
university. Things like that.”
To that, Jeongin can only shrug. “I don’t know what I want to study anyway.”
For once, it’s not a lie. It’s the truth. Even if his father hadn’t chosen this course for him, he
wouldn’t have known what he would have studied or even if he would have studied at all.
Perhaps he’d have travelled overseas, maybe he’d have worked odd part time jobs. He
doesn’t often think of what he could have done had his father not pushed him into the life he
had but every now and then, Jeongin does wonder and it shows in his eyes that it’s the truth
because for the first time, Chan’s smile is genuine.
“That’s fine too,” Chan says, his tone a lot softer. “Not everyone needs to study. Not
everyone has a dream either.”
Jeongin wonders what his life would have been like now if someone had told his father that.
The door opens. Sunshine floods into the room and Jeongin has just enough time to look up
and see another he recognises from the CTV pictures. Felix. He’s dressed in uniform and
carrying a small plate of what appears to be some sort of meat with a yellow sauce, topped
with parsley. The sauce nearly decorates the lining of the plate, it’s almost artful.
“Ah, last part of the interview,” Chan chirps as Felix gently hands Jeongin the plate with a
knife and fork. He smiles before leaving the room again.
“A...snack?” Jeongin asks, a little confused. The meat smells rather nice, almost well done
meat, the sauce smells a little of mustard and the parsley is the classy addition.
Chan watches him with a smile. “Your last task is to eat that and tell me what meat it is. Extra
points if you can get the sauce right. Pass this and you can start as early as tomorrow.”
A challenge Jeongin has actually prepared for. Nodding slowly, he sets the plate precariously
on his lap and takes the knife and fork to gently cut off a piece of the meat. It’s tender and
slices easily like a knife in butter. The sauce glistens under the office light and Chan leans
back in his seat to watch as Jeongin lifts the fork to his mouth and chews.
The taste is rich, almost reminding Jeongin of the veal they’d made him cook in one of his
last lessons. The sauce is definitely some sort of mustard sauce and almost overpowers the
meat itself in large quantities but compliments it in smaller doses. Jeongin works his way
steadily through the small meal, savouring every bite until at last he sets the empty plate
aside and meets Chan’s curious eyes.
“I tasted veal,” he says as he pokes at a back tooth with his tongue. “Definitely veal actually,
with mustard sauce.”
“What did you think of the meal?” Chan asks and Jeongin nods.
“Beautifully cooked, I loved it.”
A large smile spreads over Chan’s face, he nods. “Well, you passed. How soon can you
start?”
The freezer door clangs open, Changbin looks up as Chan walks in with a happy smile on his
face.
“Interview went well?”
“Very well,” Chan sighs and turns to Jisung, who is looking over their prisoner where he’s
still tied to the chair in the middle of the room. “Thank Minho for me, that newbie is a real
cutie. He’ll be perfect.”
"He checked out well, nothing seemed off," Changbin shrugs. "Turns out the thing about the
grandma is true. I drove by the address he's registered to and she was so confused she didn't
even realise I was a stranger. Managed to get a small conversation before he came back from
the store."
"He'll be perfect," Chan sighs. "And it'll shut Seungmin and Felix up about being
understaffed."
Changbin pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it over. “List of names,” he
says. “None in the Busan restaurant but the ones in Seoul checked out when I looked into it.
Three in the Seoul restaurant, one in Jeju and one in Daegu. I’m rounding them all up now
and shipping them here.”
“Good,” Chan huffs, his eyes narrowing in annoyance as he looks over the names. “Keep
them alive, hang them up here when you get them.”
Changbin nods. “As you wish.”
“What should we do with this one?” Jisung askes, his foot nudging Shinhwa. The man is
barely conscious, he’s pale, shivering and Chan looks down to see a stump where his left leg
had once been. Jisung had done a good job, a clean cut through the bone, he’d left enough
muscle to wrap around the bone and over that, he’d wrapped it tightly in a bandage that was
now soaked in blood.
Shinhwa is going to die one way or another. Be it bloodloss or when Changbin finally
finishes him off.
“Newbie says he tastes like veal,” Chan says. “He’s kind of scrawny but I reckon we’ll be
able to get a few decent meals out of the rest of him. Feed the bones and leftover parts to the
pigs at the farm, you know the deal.”
Changbin nods. “You sure we’re not gonna need him again later? What if he knows more?”
Chan considers it for a moment but then shakes his head. “I doubt he knows more. The
names he put forward are enough for now, I’ll investigate the rest of the team but for now I’m
fairly certain we’ve at least sniffed the bugs out. I’ll deal with the rest.”
It’s at this point that Shinhwa begins to stir. The three of them watch, hovering over the man
as he slowly opens his eyes and for a blissful moment, he looks confused. Even dazed. Then
it hits. They watch his pupils dilate, the fear as he remembers where he is and finally the
awareness of a pain that makes him look down at his missing leg.
He starts to scream as Chan turns on his heel and walks back towards the door. “Strip him,
pack the meat and get rid of the rest of him.”
The door closes behind him with a heavy slam, leaving Jisung and Changbin to look over the
hysterical Shinhwa.
“You’re the boss.”
II: Sic Semper Tyrannis
Chapter Notes
First of all, I'm quite surprised by the attention this story has already received, thank you
so much! All your comments, kudos and love make my day, my month, my year :) And
definitely keep me motivated to punch out more updates XD
Enjoy!
SPOTIFY
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MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
The uniform of God’s Menu is a lot lighter than Jeongin thought it would be. The material is
silk on the outside but cotton one layer in for warmth. Black silk, short sleeved with a gold
sash around the waist. It flows quite easily and yet even with the sash being as heavy as it is,
there’s no part of the uniform that sticks out and could accidentally catch on something like
an open flame.
Stylish and practical.
Jeongin’s hair is the problem. With the humidity being the way it is, no matter what he does,
it won’t go down. It’s a mess and no amount of gel, water or a combination thereof will
smooth it down.
God’s Menu is just opening when Jeongin steps in. The first person he sees at the door of the
kitchen gives him a huge smile as his silver locks glint just slightly under the light.
“I’m Felix,” the boy says as his hand comes out for a handshake. “Jeongin, right?”
Jeongin had read in Felix's file that he was from Australia. He can hear it in his accent but
what catches him most off guard about him is the depth of his voice. From such a pretty and
almost androgynous face like that, he hadn’t expected his voice to be deeper than the grand
canyon.
“But look at you,” Felix gasps as his hands come up to touch Jeongin’s cheeks. “You’re so
cute! Channie said you were young and I saw you the other day but wow. I didn’t notice
much until just now.”
Jeongin has half a mind to lean back but he finds himself somewhat trapped in Felix’s touch.
That is until a hand gently comes up to pull Felix back. The warmth of the touch takes
Jeongin off guard but when he looks up and meets Hyunjin’s eyes, his entire body freezes. He
hadn’t heard him coming at all but Hyunjin is almost pressed against his back, his arm
outstretched as he takes Jeongin’s shoulder and pulls him out of Felix’s hold with minimal
effort.
Jeongin doesn’t know what’s happening but before he can realise it, he’s standing behind
Hyunjin. The other is staring Felix down and Jeongin doesn’t know how the air changed so
quickly but it’s unbearably heavy now.
Which is why it’s so odd when Felix’s reaction isn’t fear but a pout.
“Come on,” Felix whines. “He’s in my kitchen so this one belongs to me.”
Jeongin frowns, confused as he peeks over Hyunjin’s shoulder. The other isn’t that much
taller than him but somehow he manages to stand there like a brick wall, effectively shielding
Jeongin from Felix for some reason.
That’s when the doors swing open and the three of them look over to see Chan walking in
with Changbin close behind him.
“Chan!” Felix calls. “Tell Hyunjin the newbie is mine!”
Chan takes one look at the three of them and shakes his head. “I ain’t havin’ nothin’ to do
with this one,” he chuckles and heads towards the back of the room where he slips out a giant
steel door.
Jeongin is very confused now. What exactly does Felix mean by belonging to him and why is
Hyunjin stopping him? He tries to step around Hyunjin but the other reaches an arm back to
stop him.
“Um…”
“I let you have Seungmin,” Hyunjin says, his tone low and clear. “You can’t have both of
them.”
By now Jeongin’s mind is buzzing, trying to understand what it is Felix or Hyunjin seem to
want with him. Every time he moves, Hyunjin’s arm stops him and he’s a little too
bewildered to do much but watch the two of them at complete odds with each other. However
pouty Felix seems to be, he’s serious and so is Hyunjin. There’s something here that Jeongin
is clearly missing.
But it’s Felix who seems to give in first because he huffs. “It’s not like you really let me have
Seungmin, he wanted to go to me himself,” he points out grumpily. “Just like Innie.”
The nickname makes Jeongin blink. “Innie?”
“Suits you doesn’t it?” Felix beams before turning his pout to Hyunjin. “Fine. You win. But if
Innie comes to me himself, that’s not my fault.”
Jeongin looks at Hyunjin just in time to see his lips curl into a snarl. It’s in this moment that
Jeongin doesn’t understand why Felix isn’t afraid of Hyunjin. Were that snarl aimed at him,
he’d have already frozen up. Police in training or not, nothing in his training so far has
covered the sheer terror that is Hyunjin.
Then he turns around, grabs Jeongin’s shoulders and Jeongin freezes as Hyunjin leans in, tilts
his head and licks Jeongin’s neck.
At first, Jeongin is shocked. He feels Hyunjin’s tongue lick a long, warm stripe from the side
of his neck, past his jawline and up to his cheek. When he pulls back, Jeongin’s eyes are wide
as saucers and the shiver that rushes through his body is visible.
He doesn’t even catch Felix laughing until later.
“I licked it, it’s mine,” Hyunjin declares before finally letting Jeongin go and stalking off.
Jeongin stares after him, watches as Hyunjin’s lithe figure disappears through the same door
Chan and Changbin left. It’s not until he’s gone that Jeongin realises just how weak his knees
feel as he’s suddenly aware of the wetness on his neck.
All he can do is look up at Felix who is still giggling at him.
“What was that?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” Felix promises and Jeongin isn’t sure he wants to find out.
He rubs at his neck until he’s certain it’s dry but even then he can still feel the warmth as he
follows Felix around the kitchen. The other introduces him to the benches, the ovens and
shows him where all the utilities are just as Minho walks in with Seungmin following close
behind him.
“It’s bullshit, Minho,” Seungmin is shouting and Jeongin catches the way Felix’s eyes roll
before he turns and pretends not to see the pair. Jeongin can’t help but watch the way
Seungmin stomps after Minho who still has a strange, graceful feline way to his steps.
“Health and safety laws aren’t bullshit,” Minho says, not missing a beat as he picks up a chart
stuck to the wall and leafs through the pages attached to it. “The law clearly states-”
“Fuck the law, you know I’m allergic to latex!” Seungmin hisses.
Minho finally turns and levels him with a seething glare. “If you don’t wear your fucking
gloves while you’re cooking, I’ll personally walk back into this kitchen and force all that
latex on your tiny undersized cock.”
“Ignore them,” Felix mutters to Jeongin. “They’re always like this around each other.”
“Why?” Jeongin blinks and the raised voices only get louder as the two stalk back out to the
main dining area.
Felix just smiles. “Exes,” he says and that explains all of it.
-
Jeongin’s first day is spent in the kitchen, as he’d expected. He’s put to work right away and
when the restaurant opens and the customers file in, the orders are almost non-stop. With
Felix barking out orders, Jeongin works as fast as he can to keep up with Seungmin and
Felix. Minho, as it turns out, is out on the main floor all day, welcoming customers, seating
them whilst Hyunjin and Jisung handle orders.
It’s Chan and Changbin who don’t come out and as busy as Jeongin is, he doesn’t see either
of them the rest of the day. He’s too busy in the kitchen to even notice much but when he
finally does have the time to look up through the window that separates the kitchen from the
dining hall, he sees Hyunjin’s blonde hair flutter around the sitting area.
He’s a completely different person out there. In front of customers, taking orders, it’s hard not
to be enamoured by him. His smile, the way he stands, everything is different and Jeongin
wishes he could hear him speak because he imagines the tone of Hyunjin’s voice would be
different too.
“We’ve been woefully understaffed for awhile,” Felix explains later at night, when they’re
near closing up and the influx of customers has thankfully subsided.
Seungmin is fixing the last meal of the day whilst Felix and Jeongin clean up and as
exhausted as Jeongin feels, it’s Felix who explains it could have been worse.
“We had this guy before,” Felix tells him as he scrubs at the bench. “Great guy, he could
whip up meals in a heartbeat and he had a way with ingredients but…”
But he was a cop, Jeongin looks down and listens to Felix go on.
“But he didn’t work out,” Felix finally finishes. “And for awhile there I was stretched thin. I
mean, can you imagine trying to tackle today with only two people in the kitchen?”
Jeongin barely managed with three, he shakes his head and looks around. “This kitchen is so
big too. We could probably use another one to be honest.”
“I would argue that too except Chan is very...picky,” Felix says with a secretive little smile.
“Trust me, I had to fight to get you. I’m pushing shit up a hill to get another one. You’re the
best I got, Innie. I’ll train you good.”
It’s a promise that sounds closer to a threat but Jeongin smiles anyway and finishes with his
bench just as Minho pushes the doors open and wanders through.
“And that’s a wrap,” Minho announces. “The last customer has just left and God's Menu is
finally closed. Well done everyone.”
Everyone applauds and Jeongin has to look around. A normal restaurant is staffed a lot better
than this, how God's Menu has even been able to survive demand is beyond him but he has to
file that away in his head for later. Right now, he’s actually tired and he almost forgets about
this morning until Hyunjin saunters in and Jeongin feels his body inexplicably freeze up.
It’s not normal. He knows this. He’s the son of a police chief, he’s been through at least half
of his training, he shouldn’t be afraid of someone like Hyunjin but he is. Then Hyunjin’s
sharp eyes meet his and Jeongin raises his hand to touch his neck, as though his body is
subconsciously remembering what Hyunjin did to it this morning.
“A round of applause for our newbie!” Felix cheers, his arm coming around Jeongin and
distracting him from the blonde at the doors. Jeongin looks up to see the others applauding
him, even Chan, Jisung and Changbin who have somehow mysteriously appeared whilst he
wasn’t looking.
He has to put his nerves aside for a moment and bow at Seungmin’s enthusiastic request.
When the clapping dies down, Chan steps forward.
“Good work team,” he says. “Now, Fe, get Innie-” (when the fuck did that nickname stick?
Jeongin thinks) “-up to speed as soon as you can. Friday is an important day and I need all
hands on deck.”
There’s a chorus of yes sir and when Chan’s eyes settle on Jeongin, he feels compelled to
voice his assent as well.
All he can think is that Chan is in the center of something incredibly ugly and dangerous and
he has no idea how he’s supposed to gather enough evidence to bury him for good.
The week passes but not uneventfully. Jeongin immerses himself in God’s Menu and follows
Felix’s teachings to the letter. This, of course, delights Felix and he goes out of his way to tell
the others what a good student he is.
Jeongin finds out he’s the youngest in their team. The others warm to him immediately and
it’s not that surprising. He’s not threatening, he’s not an undercover cop as far as they’re
concerned (too young) and he’s good at taking direction. Oddly enough, that last thing isn’t
something Jeongin has to fake, it just comes naturally from his days as a model when he was
a kid. Those days were full of taking direction and he does it very well.
As he works and learns the ropes of God’s Menu as fast as he can, he starts filing away
mental notes about the others. Things that weren’t in the original files. Such as Seungmin’s
slightly hostile relationship with Minho, Minho’s openly public relationship with Jisung
(Felix once told Jeongin that they fucked in the kitchen once and Jeongin didn’t believe him
until he walked in on Thursday and found the two of them going at it on the benches). He
keeps notes on Chan’s appearance in particular and the other isn’t actually often in the
restaurant itself.
Unlike the others, he doesn’t have a set role. He’s the one who overlooks not just the Busan
branch but the other branches as well so it’s not out of the ordinary that he disappears for
awhile but Changbin and Jisung tend to come in and disappear behind the large steel doors
leading to the freezer.
That’s what catches Jeongin’s attention. In the morning, when God’s Menu opens up, the
kitchen staff have set roles and his is laid out in stone. He is to wash the kitchen, wipe down
the benches, sweep the floor and prepare the work area. It’s Felix’s job to gather the
vegetables and Seungmin is the one who gets the meat from the freezer.
Felix doesn’t go in there and Jeongin is definitely not permitted to go in there. Naturally,
being told that somewhere is off limits immediately peaks Jeongin’s interest.
“That door,” Felix explains, pointing to the massive heavy steel doors blocking the kitchen
from the walk-in freezer. “Is incredibly heavy. It’s really easy to get locked in there and the
last thing I want is a frozen Innie.”
Jeongin raises an eyebrow at him and so Felix leans forward to take his hand.
“Look, I’ll show you.”
Jeongin follows Felix across the kitchen to the doors and Felix positions him in front of them.
He can feel the cold emanating from them and the first thing he notices is these doors are
meant to be pushed open but they don’t have any knobs at all.
Felix leans against the wall and folds his arms, an almost cocky grin on his freckled face.
“Go on,” he says. “Try and open the door.”
Jeongin turns his eyes back to the doors and places his hands on the steel. He’s not a shrimp.
He’s not weak by any standard at all but when he pushes, the door doesn’t even budge. He
braces himself against it, pushes against it with the weight of his body and the most the door
does is move an inch before sliding back into place.
The more he tries, the bigger Felix’s smile gets.
“See?” he teases. “That’s why Seungmin’s job is to get the meat. He’s the only one of us
three who can open the damn door.”
“Why did they get such a heavy door?” Jeongin can’t help but ask. “What if Seungmin gets
sick, then who opens the door?”
Felix just looks amused and Jeongin finds his curiosity about the freezer rising. Naturally,
when looking for suspicious things, the freezer is the most obvious thing. From a business
standpoint, it makes absolutely no sense to have a freezer with such a massive door.
“Innie,” he finally says and points to the lock right at the top of the door. “Baby, it’s locked.”
Jeongin looks up and his stomach drops as he notices the lock holding the door shut. No
wonder it never opened. He reaches up to unclick it and when he pushes, the door gives way
a lot easier. Felix is busy laughing as Jeongin pushes the door open and looks inside.
The cold hits him first. As he pokes his head in, the lights flicker on and the room is doused
in a soft blue. Jeongin can see meat hooks, he can see shelves of packed meat neatly stacked
on top of each other, wrapped in plastic with labels on the shelves.
Felix sticks his head in as well and looks around.
“Do you wanna do the freezer instead?” he offers. “Since you’re so curious about it.
Seungmin can clean up, you two can switch.”
Jeongin nods. “Okay then.”
Sitting in the squeaky chair, Changbin’s knee jiggles as he watches Chan arguing on the
phone with his father.
Other people may not view it as an argument. After all, Chan isn’t raising his voice. He isn’t
moving around, he doesn’t even have a frown on his face but Changbin is not only someone
who can read others well, he’s also been around Chan long enough to figure out his tells. It’s
all in the way his finger taps gently on the desk, the restraint in his tone of voice, the slightest
shift of his eye that tells Changbin the other is pissed.
He waits patiently and when Chan finally hangs up, he watches the calm, light composure
melt as his anger finally surfaces to the human eye.
“Fucking asshole,” Chan hisses under his breath.
Changbin can’t help but agree. He’s had the misfortune of meeting the current Prime Minister
a handful of times and none of those times had been pleasant. Where Chan himself is a force
of nature, his father is incredibly different. He’s one of those bureaucrats Changbin is
genetically predisposed to hate.
A money-grabbing, power hungry leech of a man who would do anything to reach the
pinnacle of power. Changbin had, after all, been part of the large team working behind the
scenes to bring that man to power. Smart and clever promotions in the public eye, whilst in
the darkness it was Chan and his team who had worked to bring his competitors down. Be
that through bribery or other forceful means.
It was actually Jisung who suggested eating them. Chan wasn’t against the idea at the start
but Changbin was. He’d done a lot of things in his time but he’d never eaten people before.
Drugs, arson, murder is fine but cannabalism? That’s new.
Hence the birth of God’s Menu. The cover for something that had actually started as a crazy
experiment and turned into an effective way to silence anyone who dared stand in his father’s
way.
Of course, from the very beginning, Changbin never understood why Chan insisted on doing
what his father commanded him to do. Had it been his own father, Changbin would have had
no problem telling him to fuck off. But Chan, dutiful son he is, did whatever was asked of
him and that was how they ended up with this chain of restaurants.
If only their customers knew what - or who - they ate every day.
“So,” Changbin begins, trying to keep the snark out of his voice. “What does he want now?”
Chan eyes him but Changbin doesn’t take it back. He’s unapologetic about his distaste for
Chan’s father. Always has been. The man may be charismatic and put a damn good face for
the public but as far as Changbin is concerned, the man is far, far below him.
“The Prime Minister,” Chan says in a level tone that quivers with thinly veiled anger. “Wants
to be President.”
It takes a moment for that to fully settle. Changbin thinks it through and he hadn’t been
paying attention to politics. He hasn’t quite got the boner for it that Chan’s father appears to
have but the current Presidential seat is up for re-election come next year. There’s an opening
and when he thinks about it, of course it makes sense. There’s no way Chan’s father would be
satisfied with the second most powerful seat - oh no, the most powerful pinnacle is there and
it’s open soon.
“Well,” he says after a moment. “Fuck him.”
“Binnie.”
“No, I’m serious, fuck him,” Changbin frowns. “I don’t get why you just do what he tells you
to do and how the fuck does he even plan on getting there? It took a lot of deals and shady
underground influences to get him where he is, it’ll take more than he has to get to President
status. How do you say ‘go fuck yourself’ in English?”
“It’s my mother who speaks English, not my father,” Chan reminds him. “And this isn’t up
for debate. Just like when he started climbing the ladder for Prime Minister, I told you the
same thing I’m about to tell you now - are you in or are you out?”
“I’m in,” Changbin says without pause. “I’m in. But not for him, for you. Because you’re an
idiot who does what your father tells you to do but come hell or high water, I chose to follow
this idiot.”
He likes the smile on Chan’s face. Relieved, apologetic and it reminds him of all the times
Chan used to smile at him like that when they were younger. Come hell or high water,
Changbin promised to follow him and be in his corner. He hadn’t broken that vow and Chan
had never given him a reason to.
“So what does he want us to do?” Changbin huffs. “I mean...for fucks sake, this is going to
take some serious legwork. Does he even know how many eyes will be on that seat?”
Chan just shakes his head. “I’m not even sure he’s eligible to get it because he’s Prime
Minister but...it’s not up for discussion.”
“Of course it’s not,” Changbin mutters.
There’s a knock at the door and when Chan calls for them to enter, the door opens and
Changbin can’t help but smile when Felix’s face pokes through the door.
“What’s up, Fe?” Chan asks, leaning back in his seat as the other sidles into the room.
“Just wanted to let you know, I love the newbie,” Felix says as he comes up to Changbin and
plops himself right on Changbin’s lap. “He’s so cute. With the braces and that smile and ugh,
it’s almost sickening - in a good way.”
Changbin’s arms wind around Felix’s waist and he wants to purr when he feels the other lean
into him. It’s familiarity on Felix’s part. Felix just is the kind of person who would sit on
someone’s lap, hug them and think nothing of it. Maybe it’s the Australian in him or maybe
it’s just him (because as far as Changbin is aware, Chan is nowhere near as touchy) but it
means something else for Changbin.
“We should have a welcome party for him,” Felix suggests with a radiant grin as his hand
comes up absently to pet Changbin’s hair. “What do you think?”
“Sounds good,” Chan agrees. “But only after we get through Friday. Is he gonna be able to
handle it? We need to impress these executives, they’re close friends to my father.”
“Innie will be fine,” Felix assures him without hesitation. His hand keeps flicking Changbin’s
hair around his ear and he doesn’t seem to notice the other as his attention is completely on
Chan. “Everyone will be fine. We’ll get through this without a hitch and then I suggest we
party. Both to welcome Innie and to celebrate surviving Friday.”
Chan grins. “Done deal, just make sure the ship is running smoothly. I don’t want Minho and
Seungmin fighting either, keep them away from each other.”
“I can promise a distance of maybe two meters but no more than that,” Felix teases as he
finally gets up from Changbin’s lap and heads for the door. Changbin laments his absence,
his lap suddenly feels cold and the sweet scent of Felix’s perfume fades as the other leaves.
Before he can, Felix turns at the door to look at Chan. “Before I forget, that man we served
today…”
“The informant?” Chan hums. “The one who introduced that pig to us in the first place?”
“Yes, him. A few of our customers complained he was a bit too chewy.”
“He wasn’t in the best of shape,” Changbin comments dryly. “Chances are they were tasting
the results of a lazy, sedentary life.”
“Maybe,” Felix agrees. “But just to let you know, the best flavours seem to be from the
healthy ones.”
“Noted,” Chan mutters as Felix smiles once more and closes the door behind him.
Once he’s gone, Chan turns to look at Changbin, he runs his eyes over the residue pink in
Changbin’s cheeks, the way he sniffs his shirt where Felix had been leaning on it and he
shakes his head.
“You really need to say something to him. This crush of yours is getting ridiculous.”
The ‘Day of Reckoning’ as Felix theatrically calls it, comes at the end of the week and
although Jeongin had been plenty prepared for a busy day, nothing could have prepared him
for the commotion that entered the main dining hall.
“We’ve been booked out,” Minho tells him that morning as they’re setting up. Seungmin is
uncharacteristically frantic, rushing with Felix to set the kitchen up before the storm hits. “In
a nutshell, the executives have booked the entire restaurant out for the evening. We’ll be
catering to no less than three hundred people and whoever they decide to bring along. This
won’t be our normal setup, we’ll have to prepare dishes and fill the tables as fast as possible.”
His cat-like grin comes back to his face as he turns to face Jeongin. “Luckily for you, newbie,
your role in this is relatively small compared to others. Your role is to keep the kitchen
running. Keep the food coming, follow Felix’s orders and don’t stop until the fat lady sings.
Got it?”
Jeongin can do nothing but nod.
As Minho had said, the main dining hall is transformed. What once was a landing with neatly
set tables and chairs is suddenly cleared. Tables are placed strategically around the edges of
the room along with long catering tables draped in white sheets. Music plays from the
speakers and a podium is set before a clearing which Jeongin can only imagine is reserved for
dancing.
“Innie.”
Jeongin follows Felix’s voice as the other points him to the bench.
“Get started on the entrees and just keep going. Prep the vegetables and all the ingredients. If
I need you to do anything else, I’ll tell you.”
The bell for the door sounds and Jeongin gets to work.
It’s quiet at first, the early stragglers aren’t much for talking but it soon changes when the
majority of the party arrive. Jeongin keeps his head down but the noise and chatter from the
main hall rises to an almost deafening level. Around him, Felix and Seungmin are rushed off
their feet. Taking ingredients, preparing dishes and handing them out to Jisung who rushes
them out into the main hall.
He can hear Minho announcing something, he can hear the laughter and chatter but he
doesn’t look up from his work and neither do the others.
His hands start to hurt, his eyes sting from the onions and he doesn’t mind doing this for an
hour but after three hours it starts to get really painful.
That’s when he hears Chan’s voice suddenly from the podium, addressing a suddenly quiet
crowd.
“I’d like to thank you all for coming out today,” Chan says, his voice booming louder than
usual into the kitchen. “My father sends his apologies, he would have loved to join us but
sadly-”
“Innie, keep going!” Felix orders from the other bench where he’s frying something that
almost burns.
Jeongin keeps his head down, the knife slicing quickly through the carrot he’s up to as Chan
continues without missing a beat.
When Chan flicks to English, Jeongin has to concentrate. He understands enough as Chan
moves from apologising for the absence of his father and moves onto the reason why they’re
all there. A celebration of something...something…Jeongin frowns. What’s ‘sacrifice’ in
Korean?
He doesn’t even notice it coming. A sharp pain, an automatic hiss and blood spurting onto the
counter as he looks down and realises the knife cut into his thumb.
“Fuck,” he hisses as he drops it and jumps back, cradling his thumb and staring, horrified, at
the mess on the counter.
“Shit,” Seungmin swears from where he’s working at the other counter.
“Oh fuck,” Felix exclaims. “Did you just cut your finger off?”
Jeongin looks down. There’s a lot of blood, more than he thought there would be but his
finger is still, thankfully, attached. He did get it pretty good though, the cut is right down the
side of his thumb.
“We can’t stop,” Seungmin says. “We can’t, Fe, they’re running out of food.”
“I can keep going,” Jeongin insists as he moves back to the bench. “I’ll just wrap this up-”
“You’re not getting blood all over the food and I won’t have you getting infected on my
watch!” Felix scolds, not loud enough that anyone in the dining hall can hear but certainly
loud enough that Jeongin can tell he’s serious.
Jeongin’s mind is split in two. He wants to keep listening to whatever Chan’s saying, it might
be important but at the same time, he can feel the others panicking. Both Felix and Seungmin
are too busy to come and help but both of them are worried for him.
That’s when Jeongin feels a warm hand grasp his wrist. When he looks up, Hyunjin’s blonde
hair glints as the other silently brings him to the sink and sticks his hand under the running
tap. There’s no expression on his face, Jeongin hadn’t even heard him coming. He’s still and
watches as Hyunjin brings out a first aid kit from one of the upper cabinets and looks over his
shoulder at Felix who is still kind of panicking.
“Salvage what you can, dump the rest,” he orders with a nod to the vegetables Jeongin bled
over.
It takes a second longer for Felix to jump to action and as he does, Hyunjin turns his attention
back to Jeongin.
Jeongin wants to listen to Chan, he wants to pay attention but he finds his attention
completely stolen by Hyunjin. He watches as the other keeps his hand under the tap until it’s
cold enough, then he takes it out, dries it with a cloth and starts wrapping a bandage around
the wound with such swift precision that Jeongin can’t help but wonder if he’s done this
before.
By the time Jeongin snaps out of it, Hyunjin is already finished and Chan has stopped talking
to an applause from the audience.
Hyunjin fixes him with dead eyes as he gives him back his hand, all bandaged and fixed.
Then without a word, he turns on his heel and heads back out of the kitchen.
Felix is by his side a second later, looking over the bandage worriedly. “Innie, are you okay?”
Jeongin is fine. It’ll hurt later but that’s not what’s on his mind right now. Along with
frustration that he missed Chan’s speech, all he feels is confused.
They put Jeongin to work after that and Jeongin doesn’t get a single chance to look inside the
main dining hall until long after the party is over and everyone has finished cleaning.
Exhaustion finally hits and Jeongin isn’t the only one wrangled out by the night. His legs
hurt, the cut on his hand hurts and even his head hurts as the restaurant finally winds down
and lets the staff breathe a collective sigh of relief.
“Fuck I hate those gatherings,” Felix complains as they put the last of the dishes away.
“You’d think a room full of horny executives wouldn’t crave so much food but they really
do.”
Jeongin looks up in surprise. “Horny executives?”

Then Felix just smiles and a large part of Jeongin doesn’t want to know. The budding
undercover cop, however, has to know and when he walks out to the main dining room, he
freezes right at the door.
When God’s Menu closes after a full day of serving food to customers, messy tables are a
given. Empty plates with residue of sauce, some left right where the customer sat, others
haphazardly stacked in an attempt to help the waiter take them away. There would often be
empty or half empty glasses sitting around, maybe some chairs pushed out but never pushed
in.
Normal mess for a restaurant.
What greets Jeongin’s eyes is not that but the aftermath of what can only be described as an
orgy. The clearing he’d thought was for dancing is littered with condoms, mysterious
translucent globs of liquid and food all over the place. Some smeared to the flooring, plates
left all over the place and it suddenly occurs to Jeongin that Felix and Seungmin had been in
charge of cooking. Jeongin had been in charge of ingredients. No one had been in charge of
dishes until it closed and this is why.
The smell hits soon after and Jeongin knows what cum smells like. But in the aftermath of
such a mess, he finds himself staring out at the remains with wide eyes. Whatever he’d
imagined happening out in this noisy room, it wasn’t this.
“Innie,” Felix chides as he comes out, takes Jeongin’s hand and drags him back into the
kitchen. “Are you even legally allowed to see that?”
“Was that an orgy?!” Jeongin asks without thinking. He has no filter, he’s too shocked.
Felix doesn’t look affected at all. If anything, he looks used to it. “Yes,” he shrugs.
“We hosted an orgy?!”
“Technically Chan hosted it,” Felix corrects him without a slip. “We just made the food.”
Jeongin thinks about those who actually work on the main floor, the ones who must have
seen this going on and he pales. “Minho? Jisung? Hyunjin?”
“Eww, they don’t partake, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Felix giggles. “They just serve.
Food, lube, condoms, whatever they need.”
Jeongin is fairly certain that this party at the very least broke a few hundred laws and what
surprises him is how blatant it had been. There’s no secrecy about it, no one warned Jeongin
not to speak of what happened tonight. It just happened and no one is surprised.
Felix rubs his shoulder. “Innie, calm down. Your ears are turning red. Besides, your shift is
over, you can go home now.”
Jeongin stares at the door leading to the main room helplessly. “But that mess…”
“Not your job to clean, especially after you cut your hand,” Felix assures him and starts
pushing him to the door. “Go on, go home and rest. You’ve worked hard today.”
Jeongin wants to protest. He wants to at least help and try to wrap his head around what
happened tonight but Felix is so insistent that he finally gives in and agrees to go home. Go
home, fix his hand, rest, digest what he’s learnt this week.
It’s only been one fucking week but it feels like a year.
He walks home and the walk in the crisp night air gives him the time to think. It’s been one
week and so far he’s learnt that Gods Menu is a self functioning restaurant that appears
normal. For the most part it is, with the exception of the party hosted tonight.
He’s gathered that Chan is very much like the boss who comes in and out as he pleases,
Changbin is sort of like his PA in that sense. Felix and Seungmin are in charge of the kitchen,
Minho runs the clientele which leaves the task of waiting on tables up to Jisung and Hyunjin.
If anyone were to look into this restaurant, without knowing about the orgy parties, they’d see
a normal restaurant. Not even worth a second poke but working inside it reveals a completely
different side. One Jeongin hadn’t been prepared for because none of the previous reports
from the last undercover officer ever mentioned it.
Granted, those reports were old and gathered before he even went into deep undercover but
they were all Jeongin had to go on. Now, he’s discovering, what that previous officer had
discovered may only be scraping the surface.
But if this week has proven anything to Jeongin, it’s this; his undercover is working. Not one
member of that restaurant thinks him suspicious in any way. If the way the others talk to him
is anything to go by, he’s harmless to them. So harmless that they even saw nothing wrong in
hosting an orgy party in his presence.
That at least is comforting. For now, he’s safe. His bullshit backstory worked and he’s safe to
dig out what he can, find out what’s going on with those disappearances, find evidence and
bury those responsible.
If he survives this, maybe he can survive telling his father that the last thing he wants to do
with his life is become a police officer like him.
The house is silent as he walks in. Not unusual, Minji is usually asleep long before he
finishes his nightshifts. He makes his way through the house as quietly as he can so as not to
wake her, up the stairs to the second floor and slowly down the hallway. He only pauses
every now and then when his foot hits a creaky step but for the most part, the house is silent
and he feels fairly confident he hasn’t woken her.
He makes it to his room, opens the door as silently as he can and when he walks in, he closes
it with the quietest of clicks.
Then he turns the light on and freezes at the sight of Hyunjin sitting on the end of his bed.
The other is still dressed in his uniform, one leg elegantly crossed over the other as he leans
back on one hand. He’s holding up a piece of cardboard and Jeongin feels all the blood
freeze, his stomach drops and his heart stops as he recognises the stamp and his name
splashed in black and white. His birth certificate.
“Yang Jeongin,” Hyunjin reads, voice dripping with menacing ease as he reads the certificate.
“Son of the police chief, Yang Jeongil.”
Jeongin feels his breath stop, his back hits the door and his knees threaten to give out on him.
Especially when Hyunjin’s eyes flick back to him and he feels every iota in his body freeze
like a deer in headlights.
There it is. That sneer that would have scared him shitless had it been directed at him the
other day. Now it is and he can swear he sees horns and a tail grow out of Hyunjin as the
other slowly rises to his feet and tosses the certificate at Jeongin’s feet.
“Well,” he says. “You won’t be the first pig I’ve killed.”

III: Catulum
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
Consciousness comes back slowly for Jeongin and for a blissful two minutes, he doesn’t
remember anything recent.
He’s taken back instead to a time when he was younger, sitting in the living room and
watching cartoons. In the background, his mother is arguing with a man she often brings
home when his father is away on business trips and he does exactly as he’s told to do when
this happens - he turns the volume up.
Screaming. Cursing. It gets pretty bad and the more they swear, the more Jeongin turns the
volume up until he can’t anymore.
Then a smack. Something hits the wall and Jeongin feels his blood freeze as he automatically
mutes the TV. He can hear his mother crying and when he hears the sound of hurried
footsteps, he reacts right away. He vaults from the couch and rushes for the window, pushing
it open just as a man opens the living room door and runs for him.
Jeongin climbs out. He just barely misses his hands as he lands in the garden. He can hear the
man screaming his name, promising to beat his ass black and blue as he runs out towards the
gates and out onto the streets.
The first sensation to come back to him is touch. His hands, particularly the tips of his fingers
are cold. The next sense that comes back to him is hearing and the first thing he hears is an
unfamiliar voice calling his name.
Next thing to come back is sight and when he opens his eyes, he finds himself looking
straight up at Hyunjin and it comes rushing back to him in a split second. Hyunjin found out
who he really is, he advanced on him threatening to kill him and now he’s holding Jeongin on
the floor because Jeongin fainted.
“Fucks sake,” Hyunjin scowls as he watches Jeongin slowly coming to. “What kind of cop
are you?”
Jeongin is a little too weak to fight back but he does groan weakly as Hyunjin picks him up
as though he weighs nothing and carries him to the bed. The mattress is blessedly soft and
comforting against Jeongin’s back but comfort stays far at bay as Hyunjin crouches next to
him and puts a hand on his forehead.
“Not...a cop…”
Hyunjin snorts. “Yeah, I gathered that. No cop in their right minds would faint at a death
threat.”
Jeongin’s eyes flutter. He feels Hyunjin’s hand leaving his head and listens to the other
getting up. There’s a clatter of something, he can’t be bothered opening his eyes to check but
when he looks up again, Hyunjin has a cloth from the bathroom and is pressing it to his
forehead. It’s cold, damp and instantly soothing.
“So,” Hyunjin huffs, his eyes set in a permanent unimpressed scowl as he tends to Jeongin.
“You’re not a cop but you’re not who you say you are either. Your father is that scumbag
running the police district in Seoul, so who exactly are you?”
Jeongin wishes that question weren’t so difficult to answer, but given that Hyunjin seems to
know everything, he feels compelled to answer.
“My father sent me here,” he mumbles and his throat feels scratchy. “To investigate…”
“Chan,” Hyunjin finishes for him with a raised eyebrow. “How fucking desperate are the
police that they’d send a kid like you?”
“My age means I’m not a cop,” Jeongin repeats weakly, remembering how his father had put
it.
Again, Hyunjin snorts and it breaks the cold, emotionless facade he’d been keeping up until
now. It’s almost endearing and it would be attractive if Jeongin weren’t acutely aware this
guy is set on killing him.
“Well, you have Chan fooled,” Hyunjin confirms quietly. “And technically you’re right,
you’re not a cop.”
Jeongin feels a chill tear through him and this time he can’t help but shiver. Hyunjin removes
the cloth and watches as Jeongin uses the last of his energy to push himself into a sitting
position. His eyes are wide with fear as his fingertips scrape the blanket beneath him.
“Are...are you going to kill me now?”
The smirk on Hyunjin’s face is a little less terrifying but a cold rush still shoots through
Jeongin’s gut. He should never let his guard around Hyunjin, he knows this, but the way the
other looks at him is a cold reminder.
“Maybe you can still be useful,” Hyunjin finally says, his tone low in warning.
Jeongin doesn’t even see the knife, let alone hear the click as it slips free from its sheath but
he certainly feels it pressed against his throat before his brain can even register the fact that
Hyunjin has moved. One second he’s sitting next to Jeongin, the next, he’s leaning over him
pressing an extremely sharp blade to his throat.
If the devil or Satan had a human form, it was no doubt Hyunjin leaning over him with the
most psychotic look in his eye.
“I’ll give you two choices,” Hyunjin whispers. “Choice one, you become mine. You do what
I say, when I say. If I say bark, puppy, you bark and if I tell you to dig out information about
your father for me, you do it without hesitation.”
Jeongin whimpers, the blade cuts a little into his skin and he can feel little dribblets of blood
slipping down his collarbone.
“Choice two,” Hyunjin continues. “I kill you here and now, then I go downstairs and kill your
‘grandmother’. I’ll send your head to your father and let him wonder what happened to the
rest of you.”
Jeongin can feel tears squeezing from the corner of his eyes. He’s shaking so hard and his
neck stings where it’s been cut. He’s so terrified he can’t even scream if he even had the
strength or will to do so.
Hyunjin tilts his head, golden hair flicking prettily over his left eye as he raises an eyebrow at
him.
“I need an answer,” he warns. “What's it to be?”
Jeongin can’t exactly see how he could have much of a choice in the matter. Either become
enslaved to this psychotic demon or die here and now. Strangely enough, when faced with
both options, his main concern is not himself but Minji sleeping downstairs. She can’t
remember a thing, she doesn’t know who he is and by the looks of it, she’s been alone for a
very long time.
But she doesn’t deserve to be gutted in her sleep because of something like this and Jeongin
hasn’t known her very long but he surprises himself with his own concern for her over
himself.
“Tick, tock, puppy,” Hyunjin teases. “Answer me.”
Jeongin shivers, he thinks about his father and croaks an answer that turns his own blood
cold. “A,” he rasps. “Option A.”
Hyunjin’s expressive features flip from psychotic to amused and pleased within seconds as he
pulls the blade back and flicks it away as though it was never out in the first place.
“Good choice, puppy,” he praises and sits back.
There’s a strange ease about Hyunjin and it keeps taking Jeongin by surprise. The way
Hyunjin crosses one leg over the other, watches him so calmly and yet Jeongin is well aware
that Hyunjin is very alert - he just doesn’t seem it. One wrong move and Hyunjin will have
that blade out and against Jeongin’s throat before he can even see it coming. His brain keeps
reminding him he’s in the room with someone extremely dangerous and it stops his body
from moving out of pure fear.
“I won’t tell Chan about you,” Hyunjin promises. “But, my protection only lasts so long as
you hold your end of the deal. You work for me now, I want information and you can be my
little puppy that gets it for me. You tell anyone, find help, call for your daddy and you know
what I’ll do to you - don’t you Innie?”
There it is. That nickname again. It sounds much more sinister coming from Hyunjin’s lips
but Jeongin finds himself nodding regardless.
“You fuck me over, I’ll make sure your death is an intensely painful one,” Hyunjin promises.
“And if you think I’m bad, you don’t want to see what’ll happen if Chan ever finds out the
truth. You’ll wish I’d slit your throat.”
“I understand,” Jeongin manages to say through a shaky voice. Hyunjin’s face changes
rapidly. From threatening to pleased as he sits up and hums. “Good boy,” he sighs. “Now,
before we begin, do you have any questions?”
Only one comes to Jeongin’s mind.
“How did you find out?” he can’t help but ask. “I took extra precautions and so did my father.
No one in the force knows I’m his son.”
Hyunjin grins. “That’s what I do,” he says, seeming quite proud of himself for this. “I dig
into people, I find out everything about them. Before you were interviewed, Changbin and I
looked into you. He found out about the grandmother but he bought your story. I dug deeper
and found out everything.”
“And still you told Chan that I was clear?”
“Of course I did,” Hyunjin smiles, it would be a nice smile if it weren’t so terrifying. “If
Chan had found out right away that you’re the son of not only a cop but the police chief, he’d
either have you disappear or he wouldn’t approach you at all about God’s Menu. I, on the
other hand, think differently. You can be used.”
Jeongin’s mind speaks before he can really think it through. He’ll kill me when he’s had
enough, when I’ve worn out my usefulness, he’ll kill me.
He shivers and bites his lip. He needs to find a way out before that happens, he needs to be
useful before that happens. Suddenly faced with the daunting task of betraying his father to
stay alive. He knows what his father would have wished he’d choose but his desire to survive
this won out.
He’s not a hardboiled officer, he’s not so loyal to the point of giving his life for an
investigation he didn’t even want to be part of in the first place. He never even wanted to be
an officer, that’s what his father wanted for him. So why should he die for it? There’s a part
of his mind telling him he owes his father nothing, especially not his life for something like
this. For a madman like Hyunjin.
Maybe he should feel more guilty for agreeing to be Hyunjin’s pet and give away any
information about his father and the police district but he doesn’t. All that runs through
Jeongin’s head is a need to survive this.
“How, did you find out about me?” Jeongin asks again, stressing the ‘how’ clearly enough
that Hyunjin will understand he needs specifics. It confuses him, Hyunjin shouldn’t have
been able to figure it out. His father had assured him he’d covered all his tracks, he’d gone
out of his way to falsify records, he’d broken laws changing things around. On paper and
online, Yang Jeongin, son of the police chief, did not exist so then how did Hyunjin know?
“Well that’s the interesting part,” Hyunjin says, voice now soft as honey and it makes Jeongin
shiver to hear the other switch so quickly. “The pig who was sent before you, hid better. His
records were flawless and we didn’t see anything off about him until I caught him making
notes about Chan’s movements. But you, Innie, were obvious from day one.”
He then flicks a printed photo from his pocket to show and Jeongin’s stomach drops as he
recognizes the woman in the picture. He’s probably about seven years old in the photo,
smiling brightly and standing in a dress and a long brown wig for an advertisement she’d put
him in as a favour to a friend. His mother, him under her arm and in the background, looking
somewhat unimpressed, his father.
“Oh god.”
“Cute kid,” Hyunjin hums. “If it wasn’t labelled as you, I’d have thought you had a sister.”
His mother’s Facebook page. Jeongin stares at it in disbelief, it’s the only way Hyunjin could
have gotten that photo but Jeongin thought his father had removed everything that could be
traced back to him so why was this still here?
A cold realisation drips down his spine and Hyunjin seems to recognise it because he nods
right away.
“Yes,” he says sweetly. “How did the chief of police overlook such a major detail of your
past? How did he not cover it up? Seems the police are more incompetent than I thought.”
Perhaps his father isn’t the one who should be feeling betrayed.
Hyunjin then produces more pictures from his pocket. He flicks them out onto the bed one by
one and they’re all from the Facebook page. Him at his high school graduation, him and his
mother overseas in Los Angeles for the holidays. Him standing with his stern father on the
first day of police academy training.
His father was supposed to ensure all of that was taken down and buried to the fullest extent
of technology. He was supposed to have buried any incriminating evidence and yet here it is,
revived, staring him in the face.
“They didn’t even give you a fake name,” Hyunjin notes, tone as unimpressed as Jeongin
feels. “They relied instead on the commonness of your name - rookie mistake.”
Jeongin wants to cry. His father can’t have been this incompetent. He’s the chief of police,
he’s meticulous, he’s detailed and he plans very well. There’s no way he could have cut
corners about this which then means one of two things: either he’s losing his touch (unlikely)
or he deliberately didn’t cover Jeongin as well as he should have. The idea that this is
deliberate makes Jeongin shiver, because that means his own father had sent him to a pit of
vipers in the full knowledge they’d kill him.
His own son. It’s unthinkable but Jeongin knows that it’s the more likely of the two. He
doesn’t want to think so ill of his own father but he’s not stupid enough to believe his father
magically became incompetent overnight.
Hyunjin, on the other hand, seems perfectly fine with thinking this comes down to
incompetency and not a deliberate disregard for Jeongin’s life.
“Don’t worry, puppy,” the psychotic blonde smiles. “So long as you bark the way I want you
to, I’ll take better care of you than your last daddy did.”
At that, Jeongin can’t help a bitter smile. “Are you saying you’ll be my new daddy?”
“If you ask nicely.”
Then something changes. Something moves. Jeongin doesn’t notice it at first but when
Hyunjin freezes, he notices the change in the air. A soft mewling, a purr and when Onyx in
all her tortoiseshell glory jumps up onto the bed without warning, Hyunjin pales and jumps
back with shriek.
“Wha-?”
“You have a fucking cat?!” Hyunjin gasps, one sleeve coming up to cover his nose as Onyx
purrs and wanders over to Jeongin to brush her tail against him. It’s uncharacteristically
friendly for her but he’s too distracted by Hyunjin’s reaction.
“Are you...allergic?”
“Get that satanic thing out of here!” Hyunjin demands, his back to the wall as he tries to put
as much distance between himself and Onyx, who is now looking at him with interest.
Jeongin doesn’t move. He stays seated on the bed, watching as Hyunjin tries to breathe
through his sleeve. When Onyx jumps off the bed and starts moving towards him, Hyunjin
squeaks and jumps for the door.
“I mean it, get it out of here!” he tries to demand but his voice is a lot less intimidating than
before. It almost throws Jeongin off how one fluffy animal can strip all of Hyunjin’s
terrifying aura with one meow. “I will fucking throw your mangy cat out the window, get it
out of here!”
Jeongin surprises himself with his answer: “No.”
Hyunjin’s eyes darken. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘no’?”
“I mean no,” Jeongin shoots back and his internal monologue is yelling at him.
What are you doing, what are you doing, Yang Jeongin?! He’s going to kill you, do what he
says!
Hyunjin sneezes once, then again as Onyx comes closer and when she brushes herself against
his leg, he almost kicks her off.
“Fine,” he manages as his eyes begin to water. “Fine, I’ll leave but this isn’t over! You still do
what I say, when I say it. From now on, your life is mine! Understood?”
Jeongin surprises himself with the overwhelming feeling of apathy as he nods and watches
Hyunjin escape out the door with another sneeze. He can hear the other running down the
stairs and when he turns to look out the window, he watches the blonde rushing out the door
and sneezing on his way to the footpath.
All of a sudden he feels terribly drained. Perhaps tomorrow he’ll freak out about how close
he’d come to death tonight, he’ll feel angry about how his father hadn’t covered for him but
right now he just feels incredibly tired.
He pets Onyx, checks on Minji and heads back to bed. It doesn’t take him long at all to shut
down and sleep deeper than he’s ever slept before.
As Jeongin suspected, the freakout comes the morning after. His brain processes the
information overnight and when morning floods into his room, he has a panic attack. This is a
blatant, complete disregard for his life. It has to be. He almost wants to call his father and
scream at him but that would put him in danger.
Hyunjin knows about him, the others still don’t and Jeongin isn’t dumb enough to think they
stopped keeping an eye on him just because he’s clear. After all, the other police officer had
been clear too. After such a fuckup, they’re not likely to trust Jeongin so quickly no matter
how good he appears on paper.
What Jeongin has to trust (and he uses the word ‘trust’ very, very lightly) is the fact that
Hyunjin will stop the others finding out by covering the tracks his father failed to cover. After
all, it will look bad for Hyunjin too if the likes of Chan or Changbin find out about the
Facebook page. Something so simple, so blatantly obvious, they wouldn’t think it an accident
if Hyunjin claimed he didn’t know about it.
That and Hyunjin needs him, that’s the only thing keeping Jeongin alive right now.
So after his panic attack, he dresses and heads to work as usual. Felix meets him at the door
and it’s only when he catches the whiff of cleaning products that he remembers about the
orgy party that happened last time.
“So about the party,” Felix begins, uncharacteristically uncomfortable for a moment. “I’m
sorry, I didn’t realise no one had told you. Sometimes those things happen here.”
Jeongin blinks at him. “I’ve never heard of a restaurant hosting an orgy,” he points out.
“Weren’t the customers really important bigwigs?”
“They’re associates of the current Prime Minister, yes,” Felix confirms, albeit a little
reluctant. “Chan’s father. Rich people have weird tastes.”
That’s putting it lightly, Jeongin thinks but he follows Felix inside where Seungmin is already
setting up.
“Open the windows, air the place out,” Minho is saying from the front room. Through the
window, Jeongin can see he’s ordering Jisung around but the other doesn’t complain once as
he goes around opening windows and setting up.
“Who cleaned?” Jeongin asks, suddenly taken over by a morbid curiosity to know what kind
of person would willingly step into the mess that had been last night.
“We hire people for that,” Felix giggles. “You can’t pay me enough to scrub the jizz out of
the carpet.”
Still no sign of Chan or Changbin but that’s normal. The two of them don’t come into the
restaurant as permanent staff. Jeongin notes with a fair amount of relief that Hyunjin isn’t in
either.
“Looks like another slow morning at God’s Menu,” Seungmin comments as Jeongin and
Felix come to help him set up. “I like it that way, last night sucked.”
“But you did so well,” Felix makes sure to add with a bright smile. “We all did. Those
customers left satisfied.”
Seungmin snorts. “I’ll bet they did.”
When Hyunjin appears midday, no one seems to mind. It’s a slow morning, not that many
customers and Hyunjin appears to have other duties aside from his tasks on the main floor.
Jeongin is tempted to ask but a new sort of wariness has set over him. Felix is friendly
enough and Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind him but he can’t trust either of them.
However harmless they appear, they’re still involved in a major chain of disappearances by
their association with Chan.
“You ready for the party tonight?” Felix asks him after his lunch break.
Jeongin stares blankly at him. “...tonight?”

“Your welcome party!” Felix reminds him with an almost exasperated chuckle. “I told you
about it the other day, we’re having a party to welcome you in. It’s going to be at Chan’s
place since he’s the boss and his place is massive.” When he’s not working luxury orgy nights
and dressed in three-piece suits, Chan wanders around in shirts and jeans. Jeongin almost
forgot he’s loaded.
“Oh, right, yes I’m ready. There’s not going to be an orgy, is there?”
Felix giggles and shakes his head as he starts in on grating the carrots. “I assure you, no orgy.
Just good food, music and drinks.”
It sounds harmless enough but it still puts Jeongin on edge. “Is...everyone going to be there?”
“Of course!” Felix says and he must have caught the look on Jeongin’s face because he adds:
“Why, is there someone here you don’t like?”
“Aah, it’s not that-”
“It’s Hyunjin, right?” Felix guesses and before Jeongin can stutter out his assurances, the
other smiles. “Because he licked your neck, right?”
Jeongin almost forgot he did that. Hyunjin has threatened his life, pressed a blade to his
throat and scared him shitless. Licking his neck is the least harmful thing he’s done in the last
week.
“Right. Yes. The neck.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Felix is quick to assure him. “Hyunjin’s weird but he’s not gonna hurt
you. He licked your neck to spite me.”
“Why would that spite you?” Jeongin can’t help but ask.
“It’s a game we play. We play this game where we claim people, there’s nothing to it, it’s just
something I have with Hyunjin. He doesn’t talk to many people so I thought up a game.”
Jeongin blinks at him, it sounds weird and it must appear on his face because Felix continues.
“When I started, Hyunjin was new too. He didn’t talk to any of us and he was so serious all
the time - it was kind of scary.”
Yes, Jeongin can easily see that.
“So, to get him to lighten up, I suggested a game. We go around claiming people, the person
who has the most wins. Of course at the start, we had to go around asking people if they’d let
us claim them but it got him to open up. I’m surprised he even started playing. Now you’re
here and well…you saw how Hyunjin decided to claim you.”
Jeongin decides that thinking about how weirdly absurd it is to ‘claim’ people at all is not
going to do him any good so he puts it aside. Felix seems happy enough that it dragged
Hyunjin out of his shell so any moral debates on the game would be a moot point.
“So...who’s winning?”
“Well I claimed Chan, Seungmin, Minho and Changbin. Hyunjin has you and Jisung so right
now, I’m winning. The guy who was here before you, the one who left, he was Hyunjin’s so
maybe I let him claim you out of pity. Either way, there’s nothing you have to do, it’s just a
game.”
To you maybe, Jeongin thinks bitterly as he touches the tiny cut on his throat. It’s closed up
now and it doesn’t sting but it’s a light reminder of what happened last night.
The day passes by uneventfully and when God’s Menu closes up, Jeongin is whisked away
by the others. He rides in Jisung’s car with Jisung and Minho giggling to each other in the
front seat whilst he and Felix sit in the back. Felix chats to him about this and that but it’s
clear he’s trying to ignore the lovefest going on in the front and every time Minho giggles,
Felix switches the subject.
Chan’s house is just a little out of the way. It’s quite a drive out of Busan and into the more
rural areas. At night, the sight of paddocks and long stretches of rice fields and grapevines
seem to shimmer under the moonlight. Jeongin looks out the window in wonder. It’s not a
common sight in Seoul, the sight of pure nature, gently tended to but largely left alone in its
wondrous glory.
He only realises Chan’s house is nearing when he sees the lights in the distance and cranes
his head to get a good look.
Chan’s house is three stories high, built like a fucking victorian mansion. Complete with the
tall iron fence, the impeccably trimmed shrubs, fountains and green grass lining a well kept
path to the front steps. The wide arch windows offer an unfiltered peek into a life of luxury
that Jeongin’s never known, never seen with his own eyes.
The last kick to the gut is the fucking butler, valet and maid waiting at the steps when Jisung
pulls the car up and casually chucks his keys to the valet for parking.
Felix gets out, he bounces around the car to join Jeongin as he climbs out and stares up in
awe. He hadn’t really taken the time to imagine what Chan’s house would look like but if he
had taken a moment to wonder, he couldn’t possibly have thought of something like this.
Similar to the way God’s Menu seems to stick out, this mansion stands alone in a mass of
unoccupied but well kept land.
Jeongin wouldn’t be surprised if Chan owned the acres and acres of land surrounding his
mansion as well.
The host himself appears at the door, still dressed in casual clothing that now look completely
out of place in the grand entrance of his house. He pulls Felix into a hug first and chatters
happily with him in English and it takes Jeongin a moment to realise he’s having more
trouble understanding him than the night before.
It hits him later that last night when Chan had addressed the audience, he’d changed his
accent for their sake. When speaking alone with Felix, his Australian accent is thick and the
words come out too fast for Jeongin to understand.
The maids, servants, butlers and valets are all dressed to the nines. Uniforms of black and
white, sharp and almost intimidating when they come in droves. The marble floor of his
entranceway is so polished that Jeongin can see his reflection and the tall walls of his house
stand immaculately clean, not a single dust particle in sight.
A well tended mansion with a full roster of staff to maintain its upkeep. Jeongin wonders if
Chan’s ever seen Downton Abbey.
“Welcome, welcome,” Chan says, flicking easily to Korean as he pats Jeongin on the
shoulder. “Make yourself at home, don’t be shy.”
“If you insist,” Jisung shrugs with a laugh.
They’re taken to the ballroom (and Jeongin has to sigh, of course there’s a ballroom) where
there are already tables stacked with hors d’oeuvres. There’s music playing from the speakers
fixed to the wall and there’s a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. As the others pour
in, Jeongin stares up at the chandelier and swallows hard. Knowing Chan is rich is one thing,
seeing the result with his own eyes is quite another.
“Hello, puppy.”
His entire body freezes with dread. Jeongin turns to see Hyunjin standing right beside him as
though he was always there. He’s still in uniform, hands tucked into his pockets as he looks
up at the chandelier with Jeongin.
Jeongin bites his tongue and turns his eyes back to the crystal. “Hello, Hyunjin.”
“You know, I might get you to start calling me, master,” Hyunjin says, tone far too casual and
amused for Jeongin’s liking. “How would you like that, puppy?”
Jeongin closes his eyes and imagines wringing Hyunjin’s throat. “If you wish, master.”
Hyunjin laughs. It’s an unexpectedly pleasant sound and Jeongin frowns when he realises the
effect Hyunjin’s laugh has on him. It’s not right. Nothing about Hyunjin should be at all
pleasant and yet Jeongin can’t hate the sound of his laugh.
For such a wide space, it’s only the seven of them and the servants who use it. Chan turns the
music up when everyone has arrived and they talk amongst themselves whilst the servants
walk around carrying trays of champagne. Jeongin isn’t by any means a drinker but when he
sees the alcohol, he grabs it and downs the flute glass in one gulp.
Maybe this night will get easier if he’s drunk.

The others are talkative, quick and eager to tell him all about them. He learns that Jisung and
Minho are together (he already knew that thanks to their tryst in the kitchen but he nods
politely nonetheless) he hears all about Minho’s messy breakup with Seungmin (from a drunk
Seungmin who then goes on to point out that Minho is a cat which is why Hyunjin’s never
near him for too long) and Felix tells him all about his brotherly relationship with Chan.
“I came to South Korea and I didn’t know anyone,” Felix says, animated now that he’s had a
few to drink. Some people get angry when they’re drunk, some get teary like Seungmin.
Felix is a talker when he’s sober but he’s even more so when he’s drunk.
“Chan found me in a bar, of all places. We got along right away. Aussies do that, you know,
they find each other and latch on when overseas,” Felix explains, quite animated and happy
as he thinks back on it. “Chan taught me everything, he introduced me to Minho who taught
me Korean and now here I am. A Korean-speaking, functioning member of society!”
Jeongin catches Chan shaking his head with an amused smile and he turns back to Felix in
time to see the other drinking a new glass. He takes the opportunity to snag one himself, the
fuzzy bliss of tipsiness already dulling his senses and preventing a possible anxiety attack.
Which will undoubtedly come if he’s left long enough to really think about the precariously
dangerous position he’s in.
The others don’t seem to have any reservations with getting drunk. Even their designated
sober driver, Jisung, downs more than a hefty amount of alcohol and if Jeongin were sober,
he’d wonder how the hell they’re getting home. As it is now, though, every drink he
consumes takes the terrifying reality of his situation further and further away until it’s
nothing but an afterthought.
“Look at Felix, isn’t he pretty?” Changbin slurs, his arm draped around Jeongin’s shoulders
as he points to Felix on the other side of the room. “He’s so pretty.”
“Binnie, don’t molest the kid,” Minho scolds, gently taking Jeongin out of his hold. At first
Jeongin is thankful for the rescue until he realises he’s now in Minho’s hold and that’s not
much better.
“But Fe is so pretty!” Changbin insists and Minho just steers Jeongin away.
“Don’t mind him,” he says. “He’s harmless but he’s been pining for years. The only person
who doesn’t seem to know about his crush is Felix himself.”
It’s then that a strange scent wafts towards Jeongin. A strange and almost subtle combination
of burnt paper, lemongrass and fire. It reminds Jeongin of one of the classes he’d taken in the
academy and it hits him after a second or two that he’s smelling weed. His head whips around
just in time to see Hyunjin blowing it out to him.
The scent is ten times stronger, Jeongin coughs and wrenches himself out of Minho’s hold to
cover his nose.
“Ooh, a virgin,” Jisung notes upon seeing Jeongin’s reaction. He takes the joint from
Hyunjin’s lips and takes a drag himself before blowing it out towards Minho. “Don’t worry,
we’ll break you in.”
“Don’t force him,” Minho scolds as he snatches the joint and takes a puff himself.
Drugs now. Jeongin stares and he shouldn’t be surprised. Like, right now, he really shouldn’t
be surprised. Of all the things he’s seen so far of this fucked up unit - death threats, orgies
included - this is the least surprising thing and yet once again, he’s surprised enough that
Hyunjin grins at the look on his face.
“Don’t be a wet rag, Innie,” he teases as he takes the joint and holds it out. “Try it.”
“No, thank you.”
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Minho reminds him gently. “Not everyone here
smokes. Chan, for example, will never smoke.”
“That’s because Chan is a machine,” Jisung comments dryly as he snatches the joint off
Hyunjin.
Jeongin squirms. The look on Hyunjin’s face puts him on edge. There’s a dark look in his eye
and his lips, distracting as they are, curl just a little to the left. As though he knows something
Jeongin doesn’t.
“Try it.”
It’s not an offer this time. It’s a command. Hyunjin hasn’t called him puppy but it’s in his
eyes, Jeongin is not to deny him.
Minho frowns at Hyunjin but the blonde pays him no attention. Hyunjin’s entire focus is
fixed on Jeongin as the younger slowly, gently, plucks the joint and holds it awkwardly
between his fingers.
“Bet you’ve never held a cigarette before either,” Jisung notes and there’s nothing malicious
or teasing in his tone. Merely an observation. A correct one too, Jeongin’s father would have
gutted him for smoking tobacco, let alone a fucking joint.
Hyunjin is by his side before he realises the other has moved. He takes Jeongin’s hand and
rearranges his fingers to hold the joint properly. Hyunjin’s touch is warm and maybe it’s
because Jeongin is actually a little drunk now but he doesn’t feel as scared by Hyunjin as he
did before.
“Like this,” Hyunjin instructs him, fixing Jeongin’s fingers gently around the joint. “And
when you smoke, inhale and hold your breath so the weed goes here.”
His finger prods gently at the center of Jeongin’s chest, between his lungs.
“Hold it there for a few seconds, then release.”
He’s strangely gentle in his instruction and Jeongin follows easily. He inhales but the first
inhale is surprising. He’s not used to the hot smoke flowing into his lungs, the overpowering
skunk of the marijuana and he ends up spluttering and coughing right away.
Minho and Jisung are laughing but Hyunjin just smiles.
“Try that again.”
So Jeongin does and it’s easier when he has an idea of what to expect. He follows Hyunjin’s
instruction to a T, lets the smoke filter into his body and holds it at the centerpoint of his
chest. It simmers gently, burning away at his lungs and inhibitions before he expels it all in
one, relieved breath.
The hit is nearly immediate. A cloud of fuzz fills his brain and he leans back into Hyunjin’s
waiting arm. It’s not a complete high but enough of a buzz that Jeongin is now aware what
will happen if he keeps smoking the stuff. It feels nice, the last remnants of his anxiety fizz
into nothing and Jeongin is completely relaxed.
Strange, since he’s in a room of potential murderers but right now, he just can’t bring himself
to care.
The night gets very fuzzy after that. Jeongin likes the way the drug makes him feel, it offers a
nice reprieve from the constant anxiety and he gets the hang of smoking after that. He’s heard
of people losing bits and pieces of their memory when drinking but it never happens to him.
He remembers losing enough inhibition to dance with Chan, he remembers the music getting
louder and he remembers laughing gleefully as he jumps up and down. Completely
abandoning the idea of shame and shyness in favour of dancing with everyone.
At some point, Hyunjin sits next to him and leans in. At first, Jeongin flinches but then
Hyunjin’s hands come up to hold his face.
“Hold still.”
Maybe the command would be scarier if he weren’t so stoned and drunk.
Hyunjin inhales the joint between his fingers before putting it down. He holds the smoke in
his lungs before leaning in to cup Jeongin’s face. Between their mouths, he cups a tunnel with
his hands and breathes directly into Jeongin’s open mouth.
The smoke leaves Hyunjin and flows right into Jeongin’s lungs. Then Hyunjin leans back and
Jeongin exhales in bliss.
“That was...intimate.”
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at his choice of words and picks the joint up again. “It’s called a
blowback.”
“Do it again.”
“What, you’re not stoned enough?”
He laughs again, the sound much more pleasant now that Jeongin’s too stoned to be scared of
him.
He humours him. This time Hyunjin keeps the joint in his mouth as he cups a tunnel between
them. He inhales and exhales and as he does, Jeongin takes it all in. He’s too unguarded not
to. The high hits the same as it would have had Jeongin been smoking the damn thing straight
but there’s something incredibly intimate about inhaling straight from Hyunjin.
When he pulls back he’s stoned, drunk and there are butterflies in his stomach.
“Good puppy.”
Yesterday, that had scared him. Right now, however, Jeongin can only smile. Gummy, dopey
kind of grin that shows off his braces and makes his eyes squint and shine. Hyunjin pauses
for a moment, watching him curiously, as though he’s just noticed something about Jeongin
that he didn’t notice before.
That’s when Changbin appears, leans down and whispers something in Hyunjin’s ear. Jeongin
watches Hyunjin’s eyes turn from a soft caramel to cold, hard and dark.
He gets up without a word and follows Changbin. Jeongin almost follows them out too but a
hand on his shoulder keeps him from leaving.
“Stay and dance with me, Innie,” a drunk Seungmin pleads as he drags him away from Chan,
Changbin and Hyunjin and more towards the middle of the room where the others are.
Jeongin looks over his shoulder. The servants don’t even look up as the three of them leave
the room, the door is closed firmly behind them and Jeongin wants to follow. He wants to
know what’s going on but the others are pulling him in. He gets pulled into a hug with Felix
and a drunk Jisung is trying to get him to dance.
Then Minho hands him another joint and Jeongin reluctantly puts his curiosity aside. He can’t
escape now and he’s too stoned to focus.
“How’s Innie?”
Hyunjin looks up when he enters the room. The question was asked by Chan and although
he’d been told not to smoke or drink too much, he had. Chan leans in and when he notices the
look in Hyunjin’s eyes, he huffs.
“I told you I need you straight.”

“And I was getting the baby stoned,” Hyunjin holds up his hands and nods to the hooded
figure strapped to the chair in the center of the room. “Who’s this?”
“Special delivery, just for you,” Changbin grins and he’s not as drunk or stoned as he initially
let on. He, at least, kept his promise to remain focused.
This room is one of the smallest in the mansion. It’s inaccessible from the hallway and one
has to go through three hidden doors and two long hallways to get to it. Chan is nothing if not
careful and meticulous. It’s not as grand as the rest of the mansion. Dank and dark would be
the best way to describe it, like a medieval torture room complete with the swinging light
overhead.
There’s no furniture save for the chair right under the light, to which a man is strapped down.
His hands bound, head covered with a burlap sack.
Hyunjin takes a step closer and the man whimpers, as if sensing his presence.
“Thought you were going to have them all shipped straight to the restaurant?” Hyunjin asks
as he nudges the foot of the man. He whimpers and Hyunjin can’t help but smile. He loves
the sound of someone helpless. Unbidden, he imagines that same sound coming from Jeongin
and he has to immediately think of something else.
A whimpering, tied up Jeongin is an extremely distracting thought. Moreso than he initially

realised.
“This one came early,” Changbin says. “Consider him a present.”
Hyunjin plasters an overly fake and touched expression. He presses his hands to his chest in a
show of fake emotion and sighs. “You shouldn’t have.”
Chan gestures to him and Hyunjin doesn’t wait another moment before taking hold of the
sack and ripping it off so quickly the man whimpers.
Large, frightened eyes meet him and Hyunjin smiles.
“Hello.”
It’s the early hours of the morning, the sun has already risen and finds the boys spread out in
the ballroom. The servants had fetched some blankets, futons and couches and the boys had
arranged themselves naturally. Minho and Jisung snuggled on the couch and would have
probably fucked there had they not been so stoned. Felix shares a futon with Seungmin and
Jeongin got his own.
The morning light filters through the arched windows, warming the bed and Jeongin as the
birds outside chirp their morning tune.
Jeongin is in the realm between sleep and wakefulness when he feels someone climb into bed
with him and snuggle into his back. He’s too tired, too drunk and too stoned to bother turning
around so when an arm wraps around his middle, he merely lets out a small, sleepy mumble.
“Puppy.”
Hyunjin. Jeongin should be scared. He’s not. He just mumbles again and feels the other
smiling where his face is tucked against Jeongin’s neck.
Then skin, something is being pressed against his lips and Jeongin cracks an eye open to see
something red splattered on Hyunjin’s wrist. Is that blood? It’s not Hyunjin’s blood, he’s not
bleeding anywhere but that’s blood...isn’t it?
“Lick it off, puppy.”
Jeongin whines. Hyunjin smells like smoke and some sort of musky cologne that would smell
divine were it not overlapped with the smoke and a strange metallic scent.
“Puppy.”
Warning tone. Hyunjin’s other arm tightens a little around Jeongin’s waist and Jeongin closes
his eyes.
“Lick it off.”
So he does. His tongue slips out and the taste of the blood is metallic as it slides over his
tastebuds and Jeongin forces it down his throat. It’s only a little but it makes him wince. But
then he feels Hyunjin’s lips on his neck, kissing, nibbling and he forgets the taste. Hyunjin is
curled right against his back and when Jeongin squirms back, his ass rubs gently against
Hyunjin’s front, causing the other to let out a strange, strangled kind of sound that Jeongin
likes.
He does it again and when Hyunjin almost moans, his hand moves from Jeongin’s waist to
his hips where he holds him down to stop him moving again.
“Bad puppy,” he whispers. He sounds a little raspy now and maybe he’d meant to sound
more intimidating but he’s not, instead his voice is doing weird things to Jeongin.
Jeongin can’t rub against him anymore so he settles. Hyunjin kisses his neck again and a
wave of calm washes over him when Hyunjin’s free hand comes up to stroke Jeongin’s hair
back.
“Sleep.”
He should be scared. He should be terrified. He should ask whose blood he just licked off, he
should ask why Hyunjin is covered in it but he doesn’t. Instead he keeps his eyes closed,
drowns in the feeling of Hyunjin’s hand stroking his hair and the last thing he hears before
sleep takes him away is the sound of Hyunjin’s gentle chuckling right against his ear.
Chapter End Notes
Thank you all so much for the love and comments from the last chapter! My inbox
filling with comment notifications honestly makes my day and motivates me to keep
going (glad this story isn't dying!) hope you enjoyed this one and see you in the next
one.
IV: Dum Spiro Spero
Chapter Notes
An extra warning, this chapter deals in implications of self harm! Please pay attention to
the tags before moving forward.
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For someone like Jeongin, who has never had alcohol or smoked weed before in his life, the
hangover that hits him the next day is agonizing. He feels like someone smacked him over
with an iron pole and once he comes to his senses, the late afternoon light shining through the
windows is completely unwelcome as he rolls over so his back is turned to the sun.
“Oh my god.”
It’s a whimper, barely louder than a whisper as Jeongin’s shaking hands come up to rub at his
face. He feels like shit and in all disorientation, it takes him a moment longer than it should to
realise there’s an arm around his waist stopping him from getting up.
He turns around. Hyunjin is still sleeping next to him, he’s the one holding him down. The
blonde is lying on his side, face exposed where it was tucked into the back of Jeongin’s neck.
As Jeongin stares, he notes Hyunjin’s parted lips, the mess of his hair, how every ounce of
viciousness and intimidation is wiped from his face and replaced instead with shameless
beauty. Jeongin has to take a moment to fully process what he’s looking at here because he
wasn’t aware someone could look so beautiful - especially whilst sleeping.
His grip on Jeongin’s waist is firm enough that Jeongin would have to work to get it off him.
Which, he realises with each passing second, he’s going to have to if he hopes to reach the
bathroom in time to die from this hangover.
He tries squirming away but Hyunjin only makes a sleepy noise and tightens his hold.
Jeongin tries prying Hyunjin’s fingers off him but the other just groans and holds on tighter
than before. The pressure on his stomach is making him nauseous as he gives up on the arm
and starts shaking Hyunjin’s shoulder.
“Mmmh….”
“Hyunjin,” Jeongin pleads, his head is aching, it’s blinding how painful this is. Especially
with the afternoon sun streaming endlessly through the arched windows.
Hyunjin holds on tighter, his hand pressing against Jeongin’s stomach. “Told you,” he
mumbles sleepily. “Puppy calls me master.”
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Jeongin whimpers, his hand desperately shaking Hyunjin’s
shoulder. “Let go of me.”
“Call me master first.”
A lurch.
Oh god.
Jeongin’s hand flies up to his mouth but it doesn’t stop anything. Hyunjin cracks an eye open
and looks up just in time to see Jeongin choke and finally vomit. It lands on Hyunjin’s
shoulder, down his arm, across his chest and a little on Jeongin’s knees. As Hyunjin shrieks
and jumps back onto the floor, Jeongin leans over to vomit more on the space he just vacated
and somewhere in the distance, Changbin, Chan and Jisung are cracking up laughing.
Jeongin’s head is spinning. There’s an awful taste in his mouth, his vomit is all over the futon
and floor now but what catches his attention when he looks up is the look on Hyunjin’s face.
First shock and it’s quickly replaced with murderous anger.
“You…”
“Innie!” Felix gasps, flying to his side and wrenching the poor boy up to his feet. “Let’s get
you cleaned up.”
“Get HIM cleaned up!?” Hyunjin chokes as he gestures to the vomit splattered all over his
front. “What about me!?”
Jeongin is too sick to pay much attention and Felix outright ignores him as he rushes Jeongin
out of the room with the others still laughing - this time at Hyunjin.
Felix shoves him in the shower. Jeongin whines under the spray of the hot water but it does
make him feel a little better. As he gingerly washes himself, he can hear Felix moving around
in the massive bathroom.
Chan’s shower has an array of shampoos, conditioners and treatments. Where Jeongin’s
shower merely has one of each, precariously balanced on the rack that can’t hold all three
bottles, Chan has an entire pharmacy right here in the shower. The rack is enormous and
stretches along the left side of the wall. It’s stocked with shampoos and conditioners of
different scents and different brands.
The soaps are lined in much the same way. The water falls from the ceiling, hot and steaming
but ultimately a relief on Jeongin’s muscles.
When he comes out, Felix is there with a massive white towel that he immediately wraps
around Jeongin without mind to his nakedness. He sits Jeongin down and hands him a glass
of water with two little white pills.
“Painkillers,” Felix explains as he brings out another towel to dry Jeongin’s hair. He’s gentle
but considering the fact that Jeongin has the migraine of the century, any pressure on his head
is agonizing. Still, he doesn’t complain and pops the pills into his mouth.
“You know, in Aussie, the legal drinking age is 18,” Felix is saying as he rubs out the
moisture from Jeongin’s sweet-scented hair. “But people tend to drink earlier if they can.
Older mates can buy booze for them, or parents can bring it home. I started drinking around
fifteen-sixteen. Somewhere around then.”
Jeongin is trying to remember what he got up to last night. It comes to him in bits and pieces.
He remembers coming here, being amazed by the sheer size of the mansion and he
remembers the champagne. He remembers drinking with the sole aim of getting drunk.
Mission accomplished, his brain chides him with another dose of pain to bring the point
home.
After that, it’s a little hazy. He tries harder to remember and unbidden, a memory of Hyunjin
resurfaces. Hyunjin sitting in front of him, Hyunjin’s hands cupping a tunnel between their
mouths and him inhaling…
He gasps loud enough that Felix jumps in fright.
“Holy shit,” Jeongin blurts as he stares up at Felix. “Did I smoke weed last night?”
“You don’t remember?” Felix asks. “I’m not surprised, you were pretty hammered.”
Jeongin groans and buries his face in his hands. He drank and he smoked weed with Hyunjin.
His brain desperately tries to remember more but it’s all coming up blank. It’s probably for
the best but he honestly can’t remember anything.
He doesn’t realize Felix has stopped rubbing his hair until he looks up and sees the other is
staring at something. He turns his gaze down to see Felix is looking at his wrists. Quickly, he
puts them down and clears his throat. “Thanks for...cleaning me up. How long do you think
Hyunjin will be mad at me?”
It takes a little longer for Felix to snap into action. He sounds just as awkward as Jeongin
feels but thankfully, he answers the question.
“You might wanna give him a day,” he advises. “Don’t worry. We’ll hitch a ride with Han
and Minho back home so Hyunjin can’t get at you.”
He leaves for a moment and Jeongin discreetly turns his hands until the insides of his wrists
are pressed against his knees and hidden in the towel.
When Felix comes back, he has a white shirt and black pants with a belt and socks.
“These are Chan’s,” he says as Jeongin slowly stands and takes them from him. “They might
be a little big for you but at least they’re clean.”
He’s not lying. Chan is quite a bit bigger than Jeongin, his shoulders are wider and he has
more muscles but he’s shorter. The shirt fits awkwardly on Jeongin, hanging freely from his
shoulders, oversized and baggy. The pants are worse and Jeongin has to fasten the belt to the
last possible hole just to keep it from falling to his ankles.
Once he’s dressed and ready, he looks up to see Felix looking a little awkward. He looks like
he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to say it.
Jeongin knows what he wants to talk about. He doesn’t want to, it’s not something he talks
about to anyone. Least of all the people he suspects might be behind the Busan
Disappearance case.
Just as Felix opens his mouth, Jeongin cuts in with an eager: “Let’s go back,” he beams,
smile brighter than it has to be. “Before they think we’re doing something weird in here.”
It works. Felix grins and drapes his arm over Jeongin’s shoulders to lead him out and back
into the hallway.
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done something weird in a bathroom,” he promises.
The main ballroom is clean now. In the time Jeongin and Felix spent in the bathroom, the
servants must have taken away the futons and scrubbed the floor clean. Everyone is up in
various states of hungover and when Jeongin enters the room, the first thing he sees is
Hyunjin standing with Changbin. The other is laughing at him but Hyunjin is clean now and
wearing Chan’s hoodie - which seems to engulf him completely.
“Innie, feeling okay?” Seungmin asks as Jeongin leaves Felix’s side to join him instead.
There’s a sense of ease about them now, a familiarity born from getting hammered with them
last night because Seungmin’s arm drapes over Jeongin’s shoulders as though they’ve been
friends for years.
“Man, you threw up all over Hyunjin,” Jisung is giggling. “That was classic, I wish I had my
phone.”
Jeongin sees Felix talking to Chan out of the corner of his eye and feels a twist of anxiety in
his stomach when both look at him but he turns his eyes away. Instead he meets Hyunjin’s
eyes and the scowl on Hyunjin’s unimpressed face seems to be permanent.
“We should get going,” Jisung is saying. “God’s Menu might be closed tonight but it’s not
tomorrow. We should use the day to recover.”
“Remind me never to smoke weed again,” Minho mutters as he tucks himself under Jisung’s
arm and seems to purr.
Jeongin looks at Jisung warily. The man had been going at it hard on the drinking last night
too. “Are you alright to drive?” he asks, concerned.
“I’ll be fine,” Jisung assures him. “Now, who have I got? I’m driving Minho, Fe and you
right?”
That’s when Chan steps in.
“Actually,” he says, his arm coming around Jeongin to pull him away from Seungmin. “I was
thinking I might keep our newbie today. Is that alright with you?”
Jeongin looks at him and pales. Felix must have told him. The smile on Chan’s face is
disarmingly friendly and all the same Jeongin has a nest of vipers settling in his gut. Still, he
can do nothing but smile and nod slowly.
“Yeah...it’s fine.”
Chan’s grin reaches his eyes, it’s a nice sight but the hold he has on Jeongin is pretty firm.
Almost a warning.
“I’ll drop you off home later,” he promises.
Jeongin manages a smile but honestly, he just wants to go home. He doesn’t want to have to
talk about something that happened too long ago, he wants to go back and sleep in his own
bed. Still, he can’t deny Chan.
The others say their goodbyes. Hyunjin keeps looking at him and it’s all Jeongin can do to
keep his gaze down even as he feels Hyunjin’s eyes burning a hole in his skull. Eventually
the other leaves too and Jeongin feels his body relax when he does. He’s not ready to deal
with Hyunjin today, especially whilst he’s still feeling so raw from the party last night.
When they’re all gone, Chan rubs his arm and gives him a smile.
“Let’s go out for lunch,” he suggests. “I know just the cure for a hangover.”
“Sleep?” Jeongin can’t help but suggest with a hopeful voice. It only makes Chan laugh.
“Even better. Come on, my treat.”
Chan has a lot of cars in his garage. Jeongin finds this out when he follows Chan to the
garage and gapes at the line of cars parked side by side. He counts twenty in total, lined like a
public carpark rather than a private garage. He gapes at the cars on display before following
Chan to his car of choice.
Jeongin has only ever seen convertibles on TV dramas. It’s quite a different experience to see
one with his own two eyes. Sleek, shiny and silver. The top is already down and when
Jeongin climbs in, he slides against the leather and has to hold onto the door to stop himself
toppling completely.
“I’ll drive slow,” Chan promises, sliding in next to him. “I love convertibles but the trouble is
my hair.”
Jeongin glances at him. Chan’s blonde locks are somewhat curly and long, he can only
imagine that extended exposure to wind whipping his hair back would render it to something
akin to a rats nest by the end of the ride. He tries not to laugh at the mental image but when
he snorts, Chan grins with him.
“I know, I need to get it cut too,” he agrees as he starts the car up. “Buckle up, Innie. I’ll
drive slow but not that slow.”
In the richest parts of Seoul - the parts Jeongin would never dream of entering - bright lights
shine upon streets that never empty regardless of time. The high end restaurants that line the
footpath are always immaculate, shining windows with not a speck of dirt on them reflect the
well kept streets and the people rich enough to walk them. These restaurants are notorious for
not displaying their menus and prices at the door - the general idea being that if you have to
ask, you can’t afford it.
Jeongin finds the same can be said for high-end Busan and when Chan flashes a black credit
card, he feels his own bank card shrinking in shame as he steps into the restaurant and
follows the waiter who seems to be falling over himself to assure Chan the best seat in the
house.
The floor is polished, Jeongin feels out of place in his clothes as he sees the expensive shoes,
dresses and three piece suits of the other customers. As if sensing his discomfort, Chan
reaches back to take his hand and keep him close. It looks like a sugar daddy out with his
latest boytoy and although that thought runs through Jeongin’s mind, the staff don’t even
blink.
They’re taken to the second floor where a four seater table with a balcony and a view of the
city awaits with two glasses of wine ready.
“Ah, water for this one,” Chan says as they’re seated. He nods to Jeongin. “Not much of a
drinker.”
The glass is quickly taken away and replaced instead with a tall glass of water complete with
ice, a lemon and a mint tastefully placed inside. Jeongin would laugh at the arrangement if he
wasn’t aware that merely breathing in this restaurant costs more than he’ll ever make in a
lifetime.
Chan nudges the waiter. “And two painkillers please.”
Jeongin leaves the ordering to Chan. One glance at the menu confirms he can’t read it and it’s
not until Chan starts talking that he realises he’s speaking in French. The language rolls of his
tongue like honey liquid. It sounds native to him but he can’t tell what it would sound to
someone who actually is French.
When the waiters leave, Chan turns to Jeongin and picks up the wine glass. He swirls the
liquid about for a moment, his eyes watching Jeongin curiously and it’s more than enough to
put him on edge. He has a sneaking suspicion he knows what this is about and he’s not sure
who he wants to bring it up first, himself or Chan.
“That was quite the party,” Chan comments after Jeongin has obediently taken his painkillers.
“Parties are good. They encourage team bonding. I learnt that in management school.”
“You went to management school?” Jeongin asks before he can think it through. As the son
of the current prime minister and heir to a company fortune, naturally he’d have had to learn
something about running it.
Still, Chan just smiles harmlessly and takes a sip of his wine. “One of the many things daddy
dearest made me do. Running a team isn’t easy, keeping everyone happy, settling conflicts
before they blow up, making sure everyone’s on the same page - it takes some work.”
Jeongin can remember his own father telling him that when he was promoted to chief of
police. He swallows hard and looks down at his lap.
“It’s hours and hours of trying to understand the people you employ. A bad manager would
tell you that the main job is just making sure everyone shows up to work but it’s more than
that,” Chan continues. His voice is somehow calming and Jeongin can’t look him in the eye.
“It’s about making sure people are comfortable, happy. They need to be happy to work for
you and if they’re not happy, there’s either something you can do about it or maybe they’re
not the right fit for your company and that job isn’t their calling.”
Jeongin bites his lip. “And me?” he asks quietly. “Did that party help you figure me out?”
“A bit,” Chan smiles kindly. “It takes time to get to know someone and you’ll never see their
real side if you get them drunk and stoned. I don’t partake in the stuff but some of my crew
do - as you saw.”
He certainly remembers Hyunjin telling him to. The tone of his voice sends shivers down his
spine even when the other is nowhere near him.
“Look, boss-”
“Chan,” the other corrects him. “Call me Chan. Everyone else does, no one calls me boss.”
Jeongin swallows hard and looks down. “...Chan, I know what this is about.”
“I know,” Chan chirps. “You’re not blind, you saw Fe talking to me and it must have been on
your mind all morning.”
‘I don’t want to talk about it,” Jeongin blurts quickly. He turns his wrists down onto his knees
and looks back to Chan. “I really don’t. It happened a long time ago, I’m different now.”
Chan brings his right hand up onto the table and turns his hand around until his wrist is bared.
There, in plain sight are three old scars running from the tip of his wrist down to the middle
of his arm.
“So am I,” he says, voice calm and quiet as he lets Jeongin stare at the marks.
He brings his wrist back in and watches Jeongin, there’s not an ounce of hardness or judging
in his gaze. Only light openness, a quiet trust that began with him. Jeongin feels his throat
drying as he reaches for the glass and finishes it quickly just as the waiters come in with their
food.
It’s like a work of art. The flawless porcelain of the plates show no prior use. The food
immaculately arranged to create what Jeongin can only imagine is pure art, complete with an
emerald and crimson sauce to complete the look. He takes a moment to stare at it and in his
head he can’t help but wonder how terribly crass it would be if he took a picture of it.
They wait until the waiters are gone before speaking again. Jeongin looks at the elaborate
array of cutlery and he doesn’t even know where to start. He’s heard of fine dining requiring
more spoons than one person could possibly need but the line of knives and forks he sees
lined immaculately beside his plate is absolutely ridiculous.
“Start from the outside and work your way in,” Chan advises kindly.
Jeongin swallows hard. He should probably eat something - god knows he threw everything
up this morning on Hyunjin - but all that runs through his head is the sight of the cuts on
Chan’s wrist.
“Those were...deep cuts,” he mumbles.
There’s a moment of silence and he’s not sure he’s said too much. This subject is sensitive for
him, it must be for Chan as well. But before he can apologize, Chan speaks.
“They were,” he nods. “You can tell with cuts. Which ones are for attention, which ones are
for fun and which ones are serious,” Chan nods to his wrists. “Those were serious.’
“When did you…?”
“I was about fifteen,” Chan divulges freely. “I’d just gotten into a massive fight with my
father about my future - he had plans for me, as you can imagine.”
Jeongin nods. He can easily imagine that and Chan laughs.
“Yes, I’m a cliche of rich boys,” he says. “Heir to a monster corporation, life planned out for
me - complete with an arranged marriage. Father had it all planned out and I wasn’t to refuse
him.”
Hideously enough, it reminds Jeongin of his own father. His father had plans for him too and
they didn’t match with the plans his mother had for him. Both parents had their own vision of
what Jeongin could be and neither asked Jeongin himself what he wanted.
Of course, if they had, Jeongin wouldn’t have known what to answer…
“Arranged marriage, huh?”
“Yeah,” Chan chuckles. “Known her since I was a kid. She’s a nasty piece of work and if I
actually did marry her, it would be hell. Thankfully, my father’s ambition for power is more
distracting than my marriage prospects so, for now, we’re safe from the Red Wedding.”
Jeongin frowns and when Chan realises he doesn’t understand the reference, he sighs heavily.
“You and me, Game of Thrones marathon. Eat something, it’ll make you feel better.”
The plate simply looks too beautiful to pick at but Jeongin pokes the broccoli gently with his
fork. It’s been beautifully steamed, not too soft and perfect in the mouth. Complemented with
the meat and sauce, it melts in his mouth at first before kicking with the full flavour. His
stomach growls in sudden protest, as though he’s just now remembering he’s hungry and he
doesn’t hesitate before eating more.
“I won’t ask you about yours,” Chan assures him. “It surprised Felix but he’s not the type to
pry either. Your business is your business but if you need anyone…”
The invitation is left open without him needing to complete the sentence and all the same,
Jeongin feels that same twist in his gut. Anxiety. Chan can see him and although he’s never
shown the other his wrists, he feels the same as he does if he had done so. Like he’s naked,
all his shame out there in the open for others to laugh at and ridicule.
It makes his heart beat a little faster. Half fear, half pure anxiety but before he has time to
fully drown in it, Chan’s hand reaches across the table and takes his own. He almost pulls
back but the grip Chan has on his hand holds him still.
He doesn’t say anything. Jeongin stares, waiting for him to talk but he doesn’t. He simply
holds his gaze, meaningful and loaded in his silence.
“...thank you,” Jeongin finally manages to croak out. “I just...it’s a long time ago and it’s not
who I am now.”
Thankfully, Chan drops the subject and Jeongin is thankful for it. The air changes
immediately when Chan starts talking about the restaurant instead.
“I know it can be hectic sometimes,” he explains as he takes another sip of the wine in his
glass. “Especially on special nights. Events like that are thankfully rare but they are the
nights that will wear on everyone’s nerves fastest.”
It’s too good an opportunity to pass up. Jeongin finds himself asking before he can really give
himself time to think it through.
“I’ve never known a restaurant to hold orgies,” he comments. “If you don’t mind my asking,
what was that event?”
To his surprise, Chan is happily candid about it. “That,” he says with a bright smile. “Is my
father’s associates being the debauched, sinful bastards they really are. Stiff, high class
politicians finally bringing themselves down from the heavens to play with the devils for the
night.”
Chan had said an English word that night. ‘Sacrifice’. Jeongin still doesn’t know what that
means in Korean but he makes a mental note to look it up later.
“I...feel sorry for the cleaners,” he comments quietly.
Chan just laughs. “Don’t worry, they’re paid tenfold for a job like that. Nasty business but
someone’s gotta do it. Besides, nights like that pay very well, you’ll all be getting bonuses
next week for your work.”
Jeongin smiles but he’s uneasy. Had that really just been a night about politicians dropping
their shackles to fuck? His gut is telling him no but he hadn’t stuck around long enough to
see the mess and he didn’t have any proof, it was just a gut feeling.
When lunch is over, Jeongin feels a little better once he’s walked out of the restaurant with
Chan. He feels less distracted by how out of place he looks in a place like this and more
distracted by Chan. Had the other really just taken him out to lunch to talk about his old
scars?
They get back into the car and Jeongin doesn’t want to ask Chan if he’s going home yet. The
other doesn’t say anything either. Not until they’re out on the open road and Chan starts
humming under his breath.
“I’ve got something I need to take care of,” he announces with a small grin at Jeongin.
“Come with me? I’ll drop you off home afterwards.”
Jeongin nods, he doesn’t see much choice in the matter. Chan steers them back towards the
center of the city and as the rolling hills morph to tall buildings, Chan turns the conversation
to a direction Jeongin hadn’t seen coming.
“So, Hyunjin seems to have taken an interest in you.”
Jeongin almost chokes, he has to turn his eyes to the window as he tries to keep his surprise
from his face.
“Does he?” he asks, his voice surprisingly steady. “I hadn’t noticed, everyone’s been nice.”
“Everyone is nice,” Chan laughs. “Felix, for example, is nice to everyone and because he’s in
the kitchen with you, he’ll be the one you deal with the most. Him and Seungmin. But
Hyunjin taking an interest in anyone is surprising - he’s not the type.”
Not until Hyunjin had ripped Jeongin’s cover right off him and left him vulnerable enough to
become his puppy or whatever he has to be. Jeongin still feels bitter about how much his
father had fucked him over. It still doesn’t feel like carelessness.
Still Jeongin looks at Chan and feigns surprise. Given what he already knows about that
psychotic bastard, the fact that he’s not known for taking an interest in anyone isn’t
surprising. But Jeongin, sweet newbie Jeongin who hasn’t been working at Gods’ Menu that
long, isn’t supposed to know that.
“Really?”
“It’s unusual for Hyunjin. He’s the kind who keeps to himself, doesn’t bother with talking to
anyone unless he has to. Most of us have accepted that’s just something he does but he seems
to go out of his way for you.”
Jeongin clears his throat awkwardly and looks away. “Well...maybe I’m interesting?”
That, at least, gets Chan to laugh. “Maybe you are,” he agrees easily and thankfully, that topic
is set aside.
Chan pulls into an underground parking lot of an insurance building. It’s a fairly large area
but there is only one other car parked there. A white sedan parked close to the far corner of
the area. Jeongin cranes his head and although the windows are slightly tinted, he can see a
figure inside.
Chan parks three spaces away from the car and turns to Jeongin.
“I won’t be long,” he promises before climbing out and leaving Jeongin in the car.
Jeongin watches as Chan then crosses the spaces and climbs into the passenger side of the
white sedan. The windows are dark, he can see two shadows, Chan’s shadow is talking and
the other is leaning away from him. As if he’s being intimidated.
Then Chan leans in. Jeongin can’t tell what he’s doing but the driver seems to still. He isn’t
leaning away anymore. Another two minutes and Chan climbs back out of the car with a
brown paper bag in his hand. He closes the door before Jeongin can catch a glimpse of the
driver and when Chan comes back into the car, he throws the bag to the backseat.
“Alright,” he sighs as he starts up the car. “Let’s get you home. After last night, I’d wager
you’re ready to sleep the rest of the day off.”
Jeongin’s curiosity is burning. He looks back at the sedan and makes a mental note of the
license plate as Chan drives away. He then turns his eyes back to Chan before the other can
notice his distraction.
“Do the parties always get that hard?” he asks, feeling nervous worms in his gut. “I mean, I
saw the alcohol coming but not the weed.”
“That’s Han and Hyunjin usually,” Chan corrects. “Sometimes Minho takes part too. I’ve
stopped Felix doing it - I don’t want him getting into that stuff. I don’t get into it either, I like
staying healthy.”
It’s the way Chan talks about Felix that catches Jeongin’s attention. Why, of all his staff, had
he gone out of his way to make sure Felix didn’t do anything like that?
“I hope you can come to trust us one day,” Chan says as they near Jeongin’s house. “A
workplace needn’t just be a place you go to to earn money. You spend most of your time with
us, it makes sense to get to know us. We’re not that bad.”
Jeongin is still dying to know what’s in the brown paper bag sitting in the backseat but there’s
no chance to even take a peek. Not without alerting Chan.
So when Chan pulls up to the house, it kills Jeongin to merely thank him and climb out but he
doesn’t have any chance to look. To gain any upper hand in this situation at all. He thanks
Chan for the ride and watches as Chan drives away.
It’s only when his car is out of sight that Jeongin feels how tired he actually is. Not just
recovering from last night but from this entire situation. His thing with Hyunjin, the fact that
he still knows Chan is somehow behind the disappearances and at the center of it all is that
godforsaken restaurant. Something is off. Something is seriously, seriously wrong and he
needs to take some risks if he’s going to find out anything at all.
He can see Minji out in the garden when he walks in. She doesn’t notice his presence, too
busy talking to her flowers. Jeongin makes his way inside and the second he’s in his
bedroom, a hand wraps around his throat and slams him into the wall.
He recognises the scent before his vision clears and puts him face to face with Hyunjin.
“Should have known you’d be here,” he croaks, a little winded because of the sudden
collision with the wall. “Came to get me back for this morning?”
Hyunjin smirks. “No one has ever thrown up on me before and if you were anyone else, I’d
have gutted you for it,” he snarls and kicks the door shut before Onyx can walk in too.
“Luckily for you, I need you for something.”
Jeongin makes a squeak, his legs dragging as Hyunjin turns and throws him onto the bed. His
arms instinctively come up to cradle his face too late before Hyunjin climbs onto him and
Jeongin feels the cold, steel kiss of a blade against his throat again. It’s too familiar.
He’s too slow to stop Hyunjin’s other hand gathering both his flailing wrists and pinning
them to the bed, pushing them down above his head whilst his weight keeps Jeongin down.
He swears he can see Hyunjin’s eyes turning red.
“Okay, Innie,” Hyunjin sighs as though he’s not pinning Jeongin down with a knife to his
throat. “Let’s have a little talk about your daddy, shall we?”
Jeongin whimpers, the blade is cutting into his skin again and it’ll draw blood if he so much
as breathes. Hyunjin doesn’t seem to care much. Still, despite the threat of actually being cut
open like a pig, Jeongin somehow finds the guts to talk back to him. It’s like an impulse, he
can’t help it, he’s sick of being scared by this lunatic.
“Thought you were my new daddy,” he teases, yelping as the blade actually does nick his
skin a little. A bit of blood ebbs down his neck as he gasps and continues. “Are you jealous
of my old daddy? Don’t worry, I’ll wear a collar if you want.”
He has no idea where this is coming from. Annoyance? A desire to see Hyunjin crack? Or
maybe it’s replaced his former suicidal tendencies and manifested itself as a desire to be
killed by this maniac but either way, Jeongin surprises himself with his own gall.
Hyunjin laughs. “You’ve got some nerve talking to me like that, puppy. Sure, I’m not gonna
kill you but I can do so much worse to you and you know it.”
Jeongin’s legs kick uselessly and his eyes shine. “Do you want a shiny pink collar?” he
offers, openly baiting him. “Do you want it to have your name on it, daddy?”
This time the knife deliberately cuts another little nick against his skin and he yelps. Hyunjin
leans down, blonde hair curtaining his pretty face as he holds the knife down.
“Start talking, puppy, before I cut something off,” he warns. “Aside from his one and only
son, did he send anyone else?”
Jeongin wants to roll his eyes. “Why the fuck would he tell me if he did?”
Do you really want to die? His brain keeps scolding him. What the fuck is wrong with you?
Once again Jeongin is reminded he really should be scared but he’s just not. Around Chan,
he’s scared and cautious. Around the others, he’s as careful as he can be. But not Hyunjin.
Perhaps it’s because Hyunjin already knows who he is and hasn’t killed him for it yet. Maybe
Jeongin wants him to, maybe he’s leaning too heavily on the bet that he won’t but Jeongin
just can’t find it in himself to be scared of him.
Hyunjin seems to recognise it too because he sits up and takes the knife away.
“Okay,” he says. “You’re not scared of the knife. Considering the state of your wrists, maybe
I shouldn’t be surprised.”
That gets Jeongin to stop struggling altogether. His eyes go wide as he stares up at Hyunjin.
“You saw?”
“Of course I saw,” Hyunjin scoffs and takes one of Jeongin’s wrists to rip the sleeve up and
show him the old, white faded scars. “You think I looked into your real history and missed
the glaringly obvious part where you ended up in a mental institution for four years?”
Jeongin tries to snatch back his wrist but Hyunjin has it in a vice grip. He tries not to let the
fear and emotion show on his face but it’s too late. Like a viper with his prey in sight,
Hyunjin’s smile widens when he realises he’s hit a sore spot.
“Get off me,” Jeongin hisses, trying to sound more intimidating than he feels.
“Ooh, hit something did I?” Hyunjin teases relentlessly. “Tell me, did they put you in a
straightjacket and spoon feed you for four years? Daddy dearest certainly did his best to make
sure no one knew his son was a lunatic, he even signed you into the clinic under a false
name.”
“Hyunjin please!” Jeongin pleads, his eyes watering already with unshed tears. He doesn’t
want to talk about this, he doesn’t want to go back there.
“Call me master,” Hyunjin chides cruelly. “That’s something I’d like to see, you know. You
in a straightjacket? That would be a sight.”
Jeongin manages to rip his hand out of Hyunjin’s grip, without thinking he immediately slaps
Hyunjin as hard as he can. The force pushes the other off his waist and as soon as he’s
presented the chance, Jeongin brings one foot up and slams it into Hyunjin’s middle, kicking
him clear off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thud.
Jeongin’s body reacts on pure instinct. He grabs the blade Hyunjin tossed aside and climbs on
top of the other before he can get up. Jeongin presses the blade to his throat and instead of
seeing fear in Hyunjin’s eyes, he sees mild surprise and amusement.
“Ah, so the puppy does bark,” Hyunjin teases and Jeongin doesn’t know how he can be so
amused and calm when Jeongin has every single reason to slit his throat here and now. It
would be so easy and he’d be free of the one person who knows who he really is.
But he can’t do it and Hyunjin knows it.
“Little closer to the jugular vein,” the blonde teases, his hand coming up to guide Jeongin’s
grip towards the throbbing vein in his throat. “If you’re gonna kill someone, cut that vein.”
“Are you insane?!” Jeongin gasps, his grip on the knife slacking until he drops it altogether. It
lands next to Hyunjin’s neck with a light clatter. “Do you want to die?”
“We’re all dying, puppy,” Hyunjin comments. “I just don’t mind being pushed to the front of
the line.”
Jeongin doesn’t even see it coming but he’s thrown off Hyunjin’s waist with a solid kick. He
lands somewhere near the foot of the bed with a hard thud against the wooden flooring.
He sits up in time to see Hyunjin pushing himself into a sitting position as well.
“Of course,” the blonde sighs, his hand picking up his blade again. “If I were to be killed by
you, that would be embarrassing.”
He makes a jump for Jeongin and somehow Jeongin’s survival instincts win out. He
scrambles aside to dodge and retaliates with a swift kick to Hyunjin’s face. The other lets out
a small surprised yell that feels absolutely satisfying until Jeongin is whacked back with a
punch to the gut.
It’s all out then. Jeongin just wants this maniac out of his room and life, he throws a hardback
book at the other and it hits Hyunjin square in the face. He has only a second to relish in the
small yelp of pain before Hyunjin drops the knife and comes at him with fists instead.
Jeongin fights for his life. Hyunjin slams his head into the desk and Jeongin kicks him in the
gut. At one point Jeongin actually manages to gain the upper hand and sits on Hyunjin, his
hands wrapped around Hyunjin’s throat and choking the other until he’s thrown off because
he’d forgotten to pin Hyunjin’s hands down.
By the time the sun sets, Jeongin’s bedroom is a complete mess. Books and clothes strewn all
around the floor, the dresser is missing a drawer because Jeongin took it out to throw it at
Hyunjin. The bed is a mess of fluff and feathers because Hyunjn’s knife cut a pillow open
and is now embedded in the wall. Hyunjin and Jeongin sit at opposite sides, both bleeding,
bruised and battered, breathing heavily and staring at each other.
They’re silent for a moment. Both catching their breath and relishing in the damage they’ve
done to each other. That black eye on Hyunjin’s left eye isn’t going to go away overnight and
Jeongin is pretty sure he dislocated his arm at one point. He can taste blood in his mouth but
he’s still pretty happy he managed to inflict as much damage on the other.
Finally, Hyunjin breaks the silence.
“Well, at least you can throw a punch,” he chuckles, his hand coming up to cradle his jaw. It
smarts a little from when Jeongin socked him square in the chin. “Despite your scars, you’re
no weakling.”
“My scars don’t make me weak,” Jeongin snaps back, annoyed as he pulls his sleeves down
to cover them again.
“They do,” Hyunjin says and this time he’s not teasing. He’s serious. “They represent a time
you wanted to check out early. That, to me, is weakness.”
Jeongin wants to hit him again. He would if he didn’t ache everywhere.
“But you’re mine now, and you don’t have the right to hurt my things,” Hyunjin says,
gesturing to Jeongin and his body. “Only I have the right to do that.”
Jeongin snorts. Hyunjin just spent the better part of the afternoon hurting him. He can still
take his retaliation as a victory. Jeongin has the sneaking suspicion that no one hurts Hyunjin
and lives to tell the tale. Somehow, he’s still breathing.
“Now,” Hyunjin continues as if they hadn’t just been fighting. “Back to the topic at hand.
Daddy dearest.”
Jeongin feels himself give up. “What did you want to know?”
Can he lie? Would Hyunjin see through it? Probably, but Jeongin still has a voice in his head
telling him to at least try bullshitting him.
“His age.”
“53.”
“Liar, he’s 49.”
Jeongin can’t help it. He laughs and he can see the other laughing with him.
“Why do you expect to believe a word I say?” he asks. “You’re asking me for information,
you know I can lie.”
“Yes,” Hyunjin counters. “But I’m counting on your will to survive to stop you from lying to
me. After all, this is the man who didn’t cover your tracks and left you an open target for
someone like me. This is the man who threw you away for four years, why be loyal to a
father like that?”
“Why not?” Jeongin teases. “I’m an obedient son.”
Hyunjin’s eyes flash, the smirk makes Jeongin’s blood run cold. “The more I learn about you,
Innie, the less I believe you’re as innocent as you seem. Maybe there’s another reason daddy
dearest didn’t want to be tied to you.”
Jeongin fights to keep himself from squirming at the implication. He can’t let Hyunjin have
all the answers to his life. The fact that he already knows this much is bad enough.
“Fine, so what did you actually want to know?”
Hyunjin smirks. “Tell me something I wouldn’t find out in databases or newspapers.

Something mundane only you’d know. What’s his favourite food?”
Jeongin raises an eyebrow at him. All that for a mundane question like that?
“Bulgogi.”
“How plain.”
“You asked.”
He’s telling the truth this time. He doesn’t see what Hyunjin could do with that information.
He watches the blonde and Hyunjin, frustratingly enough, doesn’t show any emotion on his
face. Only a smile. An empty smile that reminds Jeongin of every single psychotic killer he’s
ever seen on TV dramas. Hannibal Lecter would love Hyunjin.
“Okay,” Hyunjin says, pushing himself up onto his legs as though Jeongin hasn’t spent the
better part of the last hour kicking them. “I’m off.”
“What, that’s it?” Jeongin scoffs. “You come here, kick my ass, cut my neck again all for a
boring question like that?”
“You’re the one who started that fight, not me. If you’d played along with me from the start,
puppy, we’d both be in one piece.”
Jeongin scowls, he can’t help it. He’s grumpy, he’s tired and now he’s sore. Hyunjin doesn’t
seem any worse for the wear as he saunters to the door and lets himself out. Before he leaves,
his pretty eyes turn to Jeongin and the smile he makes sends shivers down Jeongin’s spine.
“You’d suit a collar,” Hyunjin smiles. “What’s your favourite colour?”
“Fuck you.”
He half expects to get smacked for that but all Hyunjin does is smile and leave. Jeongin
listens to his fading footsteps and looks out the window to see the other leaving through the
gate and out onto the streets. Only when he’s gone does Jeongin grab the only pillow that
isn’t cut open and scream into it.
The prisoner is whimpering by the time Chan pushes the heavy metal door open. In the heart
of the freezer, sub-zero temperatures are enough to render the prisoner almost numb,
completely incapable of normal brain function. Of course, he’s incapable anyway because
he’s hanging with both arms tied above his head, fastened to a meat hook with his toes just
barely touching the cold ground.
At the sound of footsteps nearing him, he whimpers and yelps when someone rips his
blindfold off and he comes face to face with Jisung, Changbin, Chan and Hyunjin.
“So,” Chan says. “This one came from the Jeju restaurant? Sure he’s a pig?”
“Positive,” Changbin confirms with a small grunt. “Checked all his sources, they’re three
layers deep but any deeper and they come apart like cheap fabric.”
“What do we do with this one?” Jisung asks. “Cut him up, fry him, serve him to his friends?”
“Oh no, he’s an undercover cop, we treat these ones like special dishes,” Chan hums. “Any
ideas?”
It’s Hyunjin who speaks next, his eyes watching the prisoner like a piece of meat.
“Bulgogi,” he suggests. “Let’s send a present to the chief of police in Seoul. He’s the one
who sent this bastard, isn’t he?”
The prisoner whimpers, he tries to fight his restraints but it’s useless. His entire body shivers
and not just because of the cold.
“Inventive,” Chan whistles. “I like it. Let’s do that.”
Jisung leans in and takes the gag out of the prisoner’s mouth. “Any last words?”
The prisoner is terrified. When he’d taken on this job to go undercover, he thought he’d be
safe in Jeju. For years he was. Working quietly in the restaurant, slowly gathering
information about the workers there. Now, face to face with Chan, he can see his life flashing
before his eyes.
His wife, his daughter, how old is she now? Probably about seven. He can see her hair, the
scent of strawberry shampoo and he wants to see her again. Just one more time.
Changbin reaches up to unhook his restraints and the prisoner falls into his arms like a limp
doll. He’s placed onto a table and stares up at the harsh, glaring lights of the ceiling. He can
hear his daughter calling his name, he can see her little pink dress as she runs around the
backyard but he can’t move. He can’t move a muscle.
But he can scream and when he feels a piercing pain shooting through his ankles, he screams
in pure agony.
“Binnie, you fucked it up,” Jisung chides the man as he bumps him out of the way and yanks
the meat hook out of the prisoner’s left ankle.
“The asshole has thick ankles!” Changbin complains but he stands back and watches as
Jisung expertly pushes the prisoner’s ankles together, aims the meathook and drives it
through so it pierces both legs.
The prisoner would be wriggling if he wasn’t already half frozen. He’s screaming but no one
pays any attention as Jisung then links the meathook to the chain hanging from the ceiling.
Chan pulls on the chain until the prisoner is slowly pulled up to the ceiling, hanging by his
ankles. Blood flows in a steady stream down his legs, he’s crying and choking at this point.
The pain must be overwhelming and it’s all he can do to scream.
It happens really quickly then. One flash of silver and the prisoner hangs dead from the
ceiling, blood flowing freely from his neck where Hyunjin had slashed him open without
hesitation. Jisung only just manages to get the bucket under the prisoner in time to catch the
blood.
“So,” Chan says, tone bright and cheerful as though there isn’t a man bleeding out on a
meathook right next to them. “Bulgogi, you say? You sure the chief will like it?”
Hyunjin smiles, puts his switchblade away and nods. “I have it on good authority he’ll love
it.”
V: Non Timetis Messor
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
Sacrifice (æk.rɪ.faɪs) Verb To kill a living being and offer them to the gods.
Jeongin stares at the definition on his phone but he still can’t quite connect it to what must
have happened that night. Somehow he finds it easier to wrap his mind around the idea of an
orgy than a sacrifice.
If that’s what happened, what the hell did they sacrifice?
Or who?
The thought sends a cold shiver down Jeongin’s spine. He’d like to say the people he’s spent
the last month with are not capable of such a thing but one thing he’s learnt since his first day
at God’s Menu is that nothing is sacred or forbidden.
Not to Chan, who is suspected to be part of the disappearances, not to Jisung and Minho who
will fuck in public if given the chance and most definitely not to Hyunjin. The thought of the
blonde makes Jeongin equal parts ill and fascinated. The other drives him insane and yet
somehow there’s a freeing notion with the idea that Hyunjin is the only one who knows who
he really is.
Around Chan and the others, he has to be careful. Watch his words, watch his actions, make
sure he doesn’t step out of line. It’s exhausting. But Hyunjin already knows and when left in a
room, face to face with the psychotic blonde, Jeongin’s ability to care or even be scared of
him as he ought to be, is replaced instead with an almost suicidal need to piss the other off.
As nonsensical as that sounds, it sort of makes sense to Jeongin. Hyunjin is not his father,
who always had unrealistic expectations of him. He’s not like anyone else in God’s Menu,
who have no idea what Jeongin really is. Hyunjin did his research, probably found out
everything that’s already on the public and private databases and drew his own conclusions.
He doesn’t have any expectations of him other than a strange need to enslave the other. He
doesn’t think Jeongin is anything other than what he really is and he doesn’t care. That’s the
most important part, he really, truly does not give a shit and there’s something incredibly
freeing about it.
Left with only his own true personality, the first thing Jeongin does is rile Hyunjin up. Talk
back to him, fight him, bite, punch, kick until the other is as bruised as he is. Until they’re on
equal footing. It’s all about control, Jeongin is well aware of that, but it doesn’t stop him
poking Hyunjin.
Maybe one day, Hyunjin will actually snap his neck. He could. He’s faster than Jeongin and
he’s far more psychotic. But he shows restraint even when Jeongin kicks and punches him.
The door to God’s Menu opens and as Felix walks in, Jeongin flicks the tab away and puts
his phone in his back pocket as he turns to greet him.
“I have a question for you,” Felix begins, his face a mix of confused and curious as he comes
up to Jeongin and leans against the steel bench. “About sex.”
Jeongin’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “I’m not sure I’m qualified to answer any
question you might have about sex.”
“Why?” Felix asks, big eyes batting at Jeongin a little too innocently. “Haven’t you…?”
Jeongin thinks of cramped supply closets, grabbing hands and kisses that taste of cigarettes.
He shakes his head. “No, I have. I’m just not sure I’m qualified to answer any question you
might have about-”
“Have you had sex with guys before?”
Jeongin chokes and he’s too surprised to shield his emotions because that’s when Felix’s eyes
grow wide as dinner plates.
“Oh my god, you have!”
“Shhh!” Jeongin hushes desperately. There’s no one else in the room but it’s still not
something he talks about.
“What’s it like?” Felix asks, his entire body leaning in curiously. He leans in so close that
Jeongin has to lean back a bit just to keep his personal space.
“Why are you asking?”
“Because-”
That’s when the door opens. Seungmin walks in and Jeongin takes this opportunity to head
for the freezer to begin his morning setup without being bombarded with weird questions.
Thankfully, the rest of the morning goes by uneventfully. Jeongin never throws himself so
wholeheartedly into his work as he does but he dodges Felix’s weird questions quite skilfully
until the afternoon when the restaurant fills with the lunch rush and Felix somehow manages
to sidle himself right beside Jeongin at the bench.
“So, about my question-”
“Like I said,” Jeongin replies and he makes a point of wielding a sharp kitchen knife as he
looks at Felix. “I don’t think I’m qualified to answer it.”
Felix pouts. “But I don’t have anyone else to ask!”
“You can ask me,” Seungmin chimes in from across the kitchen where he’s dealing with five
boiling pots. “Ask away and I can tell you how ridiculous you’re being.”
Felix makes a face and it’s quite disarming. Jeongin thought he’d been around the other long
enough to immunize himself against Felix’s pouts and cutesy faces but apparently not
because the other looks so tragically lost in that moment.
He sighs. “Okay, ask away.”
Felix immediately brightens and out of the corner of his eye, Jeongin catches a glimpse of
Hyunjin passing the kitchen window. The blonde locks eyes with him and it’s only a tenth of
a second but it’s long enough for a cold shiver to rush down Jeongin’s spine.
He doesn’t hear Felix’s question and when time starts again, he looks up to see the other
looking at him expectantly. Waiting for an answer.
“Sorry, I wasn’t listening, what was that?”
Felix laughs. “You’re so mean Innie, I’m asking for help here.”
“Sorry, sorry, ask away, I’m listening now.”
“Does anal sex hurt?”
Jeongin’s knife slips and he nips the end of the carrot he was trying to cut. He looks up with
wide eyes. Somewhere in the distance, Seungmin is laughing his ass off but Felix is totally
serious.
“I...wouldn’t know,” Jeongin finally admits just as the kitchen doors swing open and Hyunjin
swans in. Dressed in uniform, his hair is tied in a ponytail with braids fixed in, Jeongin’s had
enough time to look at his face but he still finds it hard to get used to just how striking the
other is. It’s almost enough to make Jeongin forget how dangerous he is.
He makes a point of not looking at the other as he focuses his attention on Felix. “I
um...didn’t do that.”
“Oh, so you topped?”
Please stop talking, Jeongin begs in his mind. He can see a smirk on Hyunjin’s face as the
other collects the dishes he’d come for and swans back out just as gracefully as he’d come in.
The other is going to bring this conversation up later, Jeongin can just tell.
He turns back to Felix and clears his throat.

“Um, yes. I’m not a...a bottom.”
At least, he wasn’t before. His past trysts were quick, frantic and it was just circumstance that
all his partners wanted him to top. Jeongin has stopped to think about it once or twice, his
preference isn’t actually that concrete. Through experience and familiarity, he knows what
topping is like, but he’s never been averse to the opposite.
Some of his partners were. They were firm about their preferences but Jeongin, like
everything else in his life, has never been.
He wonders if he’s doomed to wander the earth with no strong preferences or desires. It was
his indecision and lack of direction that allowed his father to take over and plan his life. Now
it’s the same indecision that allows things to just happen to Jeongin. He doesn’t plan things,
he doesn’t put himself out there to get what he wants because there’s nothing in life he really
wants that badly.
Only there is.
This he realises when he catches a glimpse of golden hair in the window and his stomach
tightens, a lump forms in his throat and his hands clam up. Is that fear? Or is it something
else? He can’t tell but it’s stronger than anything he’s ever felt and it’s kind of terrifying.
“It’s Binnie, right?” Seungmin cuts in.
Jeongin blinks and looks up to see the other is addressing Felix, whose ears are turning into a
lovely shade of rose. His cheeks as well, Jeongin can see the freckles disappearing beneath
the blush.
Seungmin however, isn’t quite as enamoured by the sight and instead huffs. “You two have
been dancing around each other for years, would you hurry up and get it over already so you
can join Minho and Han?”
“It’s not that simple!” Felix exclaims, indignant. “It’s not!”
“It really is,” Seungmin points out as he turns back to his work station. “The sexual tension
when you two are in the same room is ridiculous. One day we’re going to find you two
fucking like bunnies in the kitchen and no one will be surprised.”
It astonishes Jeongin that Felix can turn so red but he’s almost the shade of a beetroot by now.
After everything he’s seen in this restaurant, surely the thought of doing anything with
Changbin shouldn’t affect him so much but it does.
Jeongin can only pat his shoulder and get back to work.
Hyunjin doesn’t approach him that night. Or the day after either. In fact, he leaves Jeongin
alone for an entire week, long enough for Jeongin to put his reluctant agreement with
Hyunjin to the back of his mind. He focuses instead on work - especially when Felix comes
with questions he doesn’t want to answer.
His devotion to his work pleases Chan and Minho at least. Chan, who likes seeing his kitchen
running like a well-oiled machine and Minho, who keeps bitching that Seungmin and Felix
(especially Seungmin) don’t work half as hard as their newbie.
It’s exactly one week later that Jeongin is violently reminded of his arrangement with
Hyunjin when he wakes up at 2am to a sound.
At first, he doesn’t know what the sound is. Only that it woke him. When he sits up and looks
around his room, he notices the open window before he realises the weight to his left,
pushing down his mattress as Hyunjin slides into bed with him.
“What the fuck?!” Jeongin shouts, his legs go to kick Hyunjin out but the blonde clearly
prepared for that because that’s the first place his hands go. “Get out of my bed!”
“Innie, it’s rude to kick people,” Hyunjin scolds and Jeongin wishes his eyes weren’t so
bleary with sleep. He can barely see the other as it is. “Besides, my bed is freezing and yours
is toasty warm.”
He slides down and Jeongin squeaks when he feels Hyunjin’s cold bare feet against his warm
legs. His arm flails out to flick the bedside lamp on and Hyunjin hisses at the sudden light
that floods the room.
Jeongin stares down at him. Jeongin’s bed isn’t that big but somehow Hyunjin has managed
to squeeze himself in next to him. The other is dressed in a simple black shirt and grey
checkered pants, his hair out, free and splayed on Jeongin’s pillow.
It’s as though he’s been there all night, instead of two seconds after he climbed in through the
window like a fucking ninja.
Jeongin finally gets his bearings and slaps Hyunjin’s chest first, earning a sleepy whine from
the other as he points to the window.
“OUT!”
“Innie, don’t be like that,” Hyunjin whines - actually whines - as he curls onto his side and
snakes his arm around Jeongin’s waist. “Lie down and turn the light off.”
“Get out of my bed!”
Jeongin is seriously regretting his decision not to let Onyx sleep in his bed. He’d read
somewhere online that sleeping with cats was bad for his health. It might be worse sleeping
without Onyx if the alternative is a psycho killer.
“Innie, are you going to lie down or am I going to make you?”

No cutesy whining this time. Hyunjin’s tone and gaze changes so fast it makes Jeongin’s head
spin. What was once playful and even feigned sleepiness is replaced instead with cold
warning. His eyes darken, his grip tightens and his tone lowers a few pitches. Enough to
make Jeongin’s spine freeze with familiar terror.
Somehow, he manages to forget Hyunjin is as dangerous as he is until he’s all but threatening
Jeongin’s life.
Stupid, stupid Jeongin. How do you forget what he can do to you?
Jeongin’s body obeys, he slides down until he’s lying next to Hyunjin and watches as the
other leans back and flicks the light off. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the
darkness and in the time he’s trying, Hyunjin’s arm is back around his waist. A familiar
embrace, almost a lovers embrace were Jeongin not sharply aware this guy is insane.
“What do you want?” he finally asks, breaking the silence as he feels Hyunjin relax next to
him.
“Other than a bed?” Hyunjin teases.
Jeongin has to bite back a remark that might get him hurt and instead makes a point of
digging his nails into Hyunjin’s arm until the other gets the point.
“Fine, you’ve sniffed me out. I didn’t just come here for your bed,” Hyunjin sighs though he
doesn’t take his arm away. “I want info.”
“I figured.”
“What can you tell me about Kang Mogyul?”
The name alone is enough to make Jeongin tense. All he can remember is intense eyes filled
with inexplicable hatred, barked orders and hard hands. It’s enough that Hyunjin notices the
change in him and lifts his head from the pillow to see him better.
“Struck a nerve?”
“Shut up.”
“So I take it you know the asshole.”
“Yes, and he is an asshole.”
Jeongin wants to curl up but Hyunjin’s grip on him is stopping him. He doesn’t want to talk
about that man, that horrible man who rules the police academy with an iron fist. Kang
Mogyul is quite possibly the most evil man Jeongin ever had the misfortune to meet - next to
Hyunjin himself of course.
The man was in charge of the trainees of the police academy and god help the trainee who
hadn’t met him yet. He was built like a brick wall, his uniform was always pressed, pristine
and he demanded the same of trainees. He was violent, loud and he had a particular hatred for
Jeongin that probably stemmed from the fact that Jeongin is the last person who should ever
be training to be a policeman. At least in his eyes.
Everytime he meted out punishments, Jeongin was always first on his list. Be that extra
chores, extra exercising until his body was ready to collapse or - worse than that - physical
punishments no one was allowed to talk about.
“What do you want from him?” Jeongin asks and he can’t help but add: “Because if you’re
planning on killing him, this is one of the few times I won’t object.”
Hyunjin barks out a laugh so hard it makes Jeongin jump with surprise.
“I’m hardly going to kill the man, Innie,” Hyunjin giggles after taking a moment to calm
himself. “He’s one of Chan’s informants, he’s on our side.”
“Of-fucking-course he is,” Jeongin groans. It figures the most evil man in that academy is
working for someone like Chan.
“What?” Hyunjin teases. “You think the police can stick their moles into our restaurant and
we can’t do the same? We’ve got our own little moles all over the place, including deep in the
police headquarters.”
It fucking figures, Jeongin isn’t as surprised as he thinks he should be but it makes total sense
when he thinks about it. Only a monster like Mogyul would be able to get away with the shit
he does if he has a strong financial backer like Chan. Flash some money and anyone would
turn a blind eye, they’d bury formal complaints, they’d do what they could to make sure
Mogyul stayed right where he is.
“So what did you want to know then?” Jeongin asks and he makes no effort to conceal his
disappointment.
Hyunjin’s arm is warmer around him as the other squirms a little closer and looks at his face.
“Well, since you didn’t know he was one of ours, that pretty much answers my question,”
Hyunjin hums. “See, Kang Mogyul is an asshole and though Chan trusts that money will
keep him loyal, I’m less convinced.”
“Can’t believe you pay that guy money to do what he does,” Jeongin mutters and he feels a
little sick. “What use is he to you anyway? His main job is training guys like me.”
“Who do you think gave you up first?” Hyunjin reveals and Jeongin’s blood runs cold.
He stares up at the other with wide eyes. “He’s not supposed to know I’m undercover.”
Hyunjin hums and slides back down to lie beside him. “He doesn’t. But when I asked about
you, he gave me everything. Told me how much of a whore you are, how useless you’d be as
a cop - honestly Innie, what did you do to piss that guy off?”
“Existed.”
Hyunjin laughs again and despite the situation, Jeongin finds he rather likes the sound.
There’s something...innocent. Carefree about Hyunjin’s laugh and it feels completely
detached from who he really is. Like a remnant of who he might have been had he not been
as psycho as he is.
“He’s how I found out about your...interestingly colourful past at the academy,” Hyunjin
continues and he either doesn’t feel or doesn’t care about the fact that Jeongin is shrinking
next to him. “Have you really never been topped?”
Jeongin almost groans. He knew this was going to come back to haunt him the second he saw
Hyunjin listening in on his conversation with Felix.
“Let it go, please. I don’t want to talk about my sex life.”
“I just can’t imagine you topping anyone - you’re so tiny.”
“Fuck off.”
Another laugh. Jeongin thinks he might actually lose his mind if he keeps making Hyunjin
laugh. The stark contrast between the killer in his bed and the sound of his laugh is almost
too much for Jeongin to wrap his sleepy head around.
“So, police trainees like taking it up the ass?”
Jeongin closes his eyes. Those first few months of police academy had been brutal. Torn from
the life he knew, thrown into a glorified boot camp, Jeongin realised fairly early on that he
wasn’t the only one struggling to cope.
There were others. Boys his age. Thrown in here against their will, beaten daily by guards,
tutors and Mogyul - seeking out comfort was inevitable. And as it turned out, the ones that
went for Jeongin were also the ones who never wanted to top.
“When Kang found out about them, he had each and every single one expelled,” Hyunjin
says as though Jeongin doesn’t already know. “That’s why he called you a whore. He had
them expelled but he couldn’t expel you - you’re the son of the police chief - perhaps that’s
why he hated you?”
Jeongin just shakes his head. It sickens him to think about it but that first stint in the academy
- before he got his bearings and learnt how to keep his head down -was rough. Traumatising,
even.
“If that’s all you wanted to know, you can fuck off now,” Jeongin says. “Kang Mogyul
obviously hasn’t let any clues that he’s not loyal to you guys - since we never noticed.”
“You never noticed,” Hyunjin reminds him. ‘But you are observant - so chances are he’s still
loyal.”
It seems to be enough. Hyunjin finally climbs out of bed and Jeongin doesn’t bother sitting
up. Instead he drapes an arm over his eyes and listens to the sound of Hyunjin walking back
to the window.
Before he leaves, Hyunjin pauses at the window and Jeongin can hear him. He doesn’t look
up, doesn’t remove his arm until he hears Hyunjin’s voice - softer somehow.
“Anything else I should know about Kang Mogyul before I must meet the asshole again?”
Jeongin slowly lowers his arm. He pushes himself into a sitting position and looks at the
other. With the moonlight shining in through his window, Hyunjin seems bathed in pure blue.
His hair even seems to shine as he sits, one leg out the window already.
Jeongin feels a lump in his throat and forces it down as he looks at Hyunjin’s eyes. They’re
genuine this time.
“You know how he punishes trainees.”
“Yes, I know.”
Jeongin’s bottom lip wobbles a little and he has to look down at the blanket to hold himself
in. Does no one really care what that monster did to him? He knows his father would never
believe him and his mother doesn’t want to. No one at the restaurant would care - Mogyul is
on their side. A valuable asset they’ve sunk a lot of money in to keep him where he is
regardless of what he does.
Jeongin has known about this for some time. Not the Chan part, but he knew someone
powerful was protecting Mogyul. That’s why he never said anything. Not when Mogyul
whipped him with chains hard enough to bruise and cut skin. Not when Mogyul pressed lit
cigarettes to his arm. Not when…
“I’ve never been topped but I have been touched,” Jeongin blurts. His mind is too frazzled to
catch up. It just comes out with no filter and nothing to stop him. “I knew he was too well
protected, he could do whatever he wanted so I...I said nothing.”
It takes only a split second for an understanding to cross Hyunjin’s eyes as he takes in the
meaning of Jeongin’s words. What Mogyul must have done to him. But as quickly as the
understanding is there, it’s replaced with indifference.
“Yeah,” he says, cold and heartless. “And if you’d said anything, we would have buried you
for it. Good thing you’re smart enough to know when to stay quiet.”
It shoots through Jeongin’s heart though he knows he shouldn’t have expected anything else.
Sympathy isn’t something Hyunjin is even capable of. Even so, this is the first time he’s ever
told anyone what Mogyul did to him - to be met with such cold indifference hurts more than
he realises.
Hyunjin steps out and as fast as he entered, he’s gone again. Jeongin listens to him climbing
down the drainpipe and when he’s sure the other is gone, he lets his tears run until they choke
him.
The car ride is silent on their way to the police academy. A short flight to Seoul had been
uneventful and as Hyunjin and Jisung head for the academy, Hyunjin feels a strange
restlessness overtaking him. It was subtle at first and he’d managed to distract himself on the
plane by eating all the peanuts, chips and candy the air hostesses could get for him but now
that they’re in the car, his finger keeps playing with the window button.
Jisung watches silently as Hyunjin pushes the window down and then up again. Down, then
up. His eyes flick to Hyunjin’s bouncing knee and he frowns.
“Will you stop that?”
Hyunjin looks up, his finger paused over the button.
“Seriously, what’s up with you? You’ve been off since this morning.”
Hyunjin turns his gaze back to his window and continues pressing the button.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just...bored.”
Jisung raises an eyebrow. He’s seen Hyunjin bored. A bored Hyunjin is prone to hitting up a
spliff, he’ll jog around the block and play obnoxiously loud cat games on his phone. This
isn’t bored Hyunjin, it’s restless Hyunjin.
Jisung of course, knows better than to ask what’s wrong. He’s known Hyunjin too long to
know the other will never tell him if something’s on his mind. That’s just one of the things
about him, he’s not the sharing kind. Not like Chan and Changbin who tell him everything
whether he wants to hear about it or not (and most times, he does not want to hear about how
perfect Felix’s ass is but he and Chan are subjected to Changbin’s stories anyway)
The academy shines in the distance. A tall, imposing structure of a building with the letters
glittering in gold at the gates. As the car rolls to a stop, Jisung makes a point of climbing out
first to meet Kang Mogyul at the gate. Hyunjin trails silently behind him as always.
“Nice to see you again, Mr Kang,” Jisung greets, the picture of some important busybody. No
one’s going to look into him. They see two men in suits greeting the head of the academy, not
the truth of what it really is.
Kang Mogyul is just as built as ever. He towers over Jisung and Hyunjin at six foot three and
his grip is just as firm as he shakes Jisung’s hand. He doesn’t bother extending the same
courtesy to Hyunjin, he knows the blonde doesn’t do handshakes. Or words.
“It’s been too long,” Mogyul shines and the smile looks unnatural on him. He’s not the
smiling type. “Follow me to my office.”
Hyunjin follows behind. Jisung starts asking Mogyul about his work and about the trainees.
Mindless light chatter and it’s what Jisung is good at when he has to do it. Hyunjin isn’t.
Instead he’s quite happy to follow behind and let the two of them talk as his eyes trail over
the academy.
It’s not the first time he’s been here. Somehow both he and Jisung have managed to miss
glimpses of trainee Jeongin but he’s seeing the academy in a new light now that he knows
Jeongin. Out there on the field is where Jeongin would have had to run laps. Up on the
second floor classrooms is where Jeongin would have taken his classes and somewhere in the
dorms, he slept.
Hyunjin wonders what it must have been like for him. Jeongin, who never had any direction
in life, to suddenly find himself in a place like this.
Mogyul laughs superficially at something Jisung said and Hyunjin swings his attention back
to the man. Chan wants him alive. He’s useful so far. Providing just enough information
about the force he works for and especially now, when Chan’s father is trying to reach
presidency, the more contacts on the inside, the better.
Even Hyunjin, who can’t be bothered with the intricate details of keeping moles, knows the
man is useful.
They finally reach Mogyul’s office on the sixth floor and as soon as the door is closed, the
pretense is gone. Mogyul’s scowl sews itself back on his face and Jisung drops the smile as
he watches Mogyul stop to his desk and sit down.
“Why are you two here?” Mogyul snarls. It reminds Hyunjin of a dog in defense mode.
“Chan asked us to give you this in person,” Jisung sighs, producing a brown envelope from
his pocket and tossing it onto Mogyul’s desk. “He’s going to need you in the coming months.
We’re here to assure your loyalty.”
Mogyul almost rolls his eyes. “Chan needn’t worry about me. I’m loyal so long as you keep
paying me.”
“Keep an eye on your superiors,” Jisung commands. “I want to know everything. Where they
go, what they do, who they’re fucking, everything.”
Mogyul doesn’t look pleased but he’s not in a position to refuse. Not even as a smirk flits
over Jisung’s face as he leans in. “So go kiss some ass, Mogyul. Snuggle up to your boss. I
want a report on Monday.”
That’s it. That’s all it takes. Jisung, satisfied with his work, turns to leave but Hyunjin stays
rooted to his spot.
They’re just supposed to go, pay him, put the fear of god in him and leave but Hyunjin can’t
leave. Unbidden, he remembers the look on Jeongin’s face. The unshed tears shining on his
face and he stares at the man responsible.
It might be hypocritical. He’s done so much worse. Granted, he’s never raped someone before
but he is a killer. Still, as he looks at Mogyul, all he can hear is the cracked tone of Jeongin’s
voice. He knows that’s the first time Jeongin ever admitted out loud that something
happened.
“Hyunjin,” Jisung prompts and Hyunjin turns to see the other at the door, giving him a
confused look. “Let’s go, we’re done here.”
Then Hyunjin glances back at Mogyul and his mind is made up.
“Wait outside.”
“Hyunjin?”
“Wait. Outside.”
Jisung frowns but he clearly trusts that Hyunjin won’t do anything stupid - like kill their
informant. He leaves and when the door clicks behind him, Hyunjin reaches to flick the lock
into place.
When he turns around, that scowl on Mogyul’s face has been replaced with a small sliver of
fear.
“What do you want?” he asks and he’s trying to sound intimidating but he can’t. He’s scared.
Scared of Hyunjin who is slowly advancing on him and his desk.
Hyunjin stops before him and taps his desk.
“Sit here.”
“What?”
The switchblade is out before Mogyul even saw it coming. Hyunjin points it at him.
“Sit. Here.”
He’s in no position to refuse. He must be aware, just like Jisung, that Hyunjin is not stupid
enough to kill him. They need him. So slowly, reluctantly, he rises from his chair and rounds
the desk to sit at the edge, just where Hyunjin pointed.
Hyunjin’s eyes are hard, his tone even harder as he taps the blade at Mogyul’s thigh.
“Take them off.”

“I-”
The blade is against Mogyul’s throat before he can protest any more. Hyunjin sees fear in his
eyes and he drinks it in. Good. Mogyul may be built like a brick wall but he knows better. He
knows he can’t attack Hyunjin and he knows Hyunjin can’t kill him.
That must be all that runs through his mind as his shaking hands slowly undo his belt and
push his pants down with his underwear.
Hyunjin looks down. Mogyul’s cock rests between his legs, flaccid and smaller than average.
He taps the blade at Mogyul’s knee and hears the other take a sharp intake of breath.
“Spread your legs.”
“Chan will have your head for this.”
“And I’ll stuff your cock in your mouth if you don’t spread your legs right now,” Hyunjin
warns.
Mogyul is shaking. His legs spread slowly and his cock slips between them. Hyunjin is
acutely aware of the pink tinge of humiliation rising in Mogyul’s ears and along his neck.
Veins press angry against the skin of his throat, as though he’s barely restraining himself from
attacking Hyunjin.
He could. He could easily overpower Hyunjin. But the consequences of such a grave error are
enough to keep him pliant, obedient and rooted to the spot where he sits half naked on his
desk.
Hyunjin pokes at the cock with the tip of the blade and Mogyul actually whimpers. It’s an
interesting sound, one Hyunjin doubts he ever makes.
“You know, I had an interesting chat with one of your former trainees,” Hyunjin says,
conversational and light. He can see the surprise on Mogyul’s face and he can’t help but
smile. It surprises Jeongin too when he changes tone like this. “You have interesting ways of
punishing your trainees.”
“I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“Can you not get it up, Mogyul?” Hyunjin teases cruelly, the tip of the knife still poking
Mogyul’s cock as a small reminder. “Is that why you touch little boys like your trainees?”
Mogyul’s eyes flare and Hyunjin grins. Got it in one.
Maybe Chan will scold him for this. Maybe Jisung will too but all Hyunjin can see is
Jeongin’s pitiful figure in the bed. The way he shook, the way his voice sounded seconds
away from bursting into tears. He looked so small in that moment, small and helpless.
The reminder of the cracked tone of his voice is all Hyunjin needs to pull his arm back and
send it and the sharp end of the blade careening straight into Mogyul’s crotch. The blade
stabs right through his cock, piercing his testicles and embedding itself dead straight into the
middle of his crotch. Mogyul immediately howls with pain as Hyunjin steps back and leaves
the blade in there.
He doesn’t need it. He’s got another one. Besides, there’s no way he’s touching anything
that’s been near Mogyul’s cock.
He takes his phone out to take a picture and he makes sure to catch the pained look on
Mogyul’s face as well as the blood pouring out onto the desk as the other writhes around
trying to deal with mind-numbing pain.
“Nice doing business with you, Mogyul,” Hyunjin says through the sounds of Mogyul’s
agonized screaming. “Step one toe out of line and I’ll come back to chop it off and feed it to
you.”
With that, he unlocks the door and leaves.
Jisung meets him at the gates, his eyes wide with alarm as he sees the splotches of blood on
Hyunjin’s sleeve.
“What the hell did you do?!”
The car pulls up to them and Hyunjin gives Jisung a small look before he climbs in.
“I just made sure he’d stay loyal.”
Jeongin looks up when the backdoor to the kitchen opens. Normally, the only people who
appear through that door are either the kitchen staff, Chan, Changbin or Jisung but this time,
a girl appears.
She’s got to be in her early twenties, beautiful, dripping in money with the way she dresses.
Her caramel brown hair perfectly done up in ringlets, the glittering emerald dress she’s
wearing costs more than Jeongin’s annual wage. Her heels shine in the light, not a line out of
place with her makeup and when Felix sees her, he immediately turns around to busy himself
with the bench.
“Kaeun.”
Jeongin looks up to see Chan standing near the door between the main area and kitchen. He
doesn’t look impressed to see her, his arms folded and brows furrowed in an unimpressed
scowl.
The girl, Kaeun, smiles at the sight of him though. “There you are.”
Jeongin catches a soft lilt in her voice, honed with years and years of careful training no
doubt. She speaks like a high-end girl in her financial position would. Above the common
rabble indeed, she’s the closest thing Korea has to royalty. The daughter of someone
important, no doubt.
Chan crosses across the kitchen and Jeongin doesn’t miss the way Chan’s hand brushes over
Felix’s shoulder as he passes. He takes Kaeun back out the way she came and follows her
out, closing the door with a decisive click after them.
Felix relaxes the second her perfume leaves the air.
“Who was that?” Jeongin can’t help but ask.
Seungmin looks sympathetic and Jeongin catches sight of Minho through the window. Even
he’d noticed the temporary disturbance.
“That was Kaeun,” Seungmin finally explains for Jeongin’s sake. “Chan’s fiance.”
There’s nothing gentle in the way Chan forces Kaeun to sit down when he enters his office.
Changbin, who was sitting at the desk, looks up at the intrusion and immediately gets up as
Chan rounds the desk to get away from her.
“Hey, this dress cost more than your restaurant makes in ten years!” Kaeun snaps as she
straightens herself and glares at Chan.
“I told you to meet me here in the office, not the kitchen,” Chan warns.
He’s in a foul mood, Changbin scoots himself away from the chair so Chan can sit instead.
The only other seat in the office is right next to Kaeun and Changbin doesn’t want to go there
so he awkwardly stands himself in the corner instead.
He’s not allowed to leave. Not when Kaeun is alone with Chan.
Kaeun scowls. “I see you’ve still got that boy in your employ.”
“Just because you don’t like Felix, doesn’t mean I’m obligated to fire him,” Chan says,
almost exhausted. “Get to the point, Kaeun. What do you want?”
Kaeun adjusts herself, as though the seat is uncomfortable. It probably is, it’s definitely
cheaper than what she’s used to sitting on.
“I’ve come to ask you to do something for me,” she finally says, having apparently given up
on the chair.
Chan barks a laugh. “For you? Why the fuck would I do anything for you? If you told me to
breathe, I’d hold my breath.”
Kaeun looks disgruntled but remarkably, she soldiers on. “My daddy says the expense of
keeping me happy is something my future husband should be doing, not him. So, my living
expenses should now be handled by you.”
Chan laughs even harder then. Forced, spiteful but also somehow amused. “You’ve got to be
fucking kidding me. I’m not spending a single cent on you.”
“You will, if you know what’s good for you.”
“Your father is an asshole but he’s also too busy to concern himself with your problems,”
Chan tells her. “If you go back home and tell your daddy that I won’t pay for you, he won’t
do a fuckinng thing about it. He’ll just stop paying your expenses and expect you to solve the
problem.”
Kaeun looks furious and Changbin has to wonder how she thought this would work. She
must have known that Chan would tell her no so why did she bother coming to ask anyway?
“My father spends a lot supporting yours,” Kaeun finally says. “Supporting your ambitious
worm of a father as he crawls his way towards presidency. This marriage is to assure that I
end up married to the son of the president and that your father makes it there at all. It’s in
your best interests to look after me.”
“It’s in my best interests to postpone our wedding as long as humanly possible so I don’t have
to live with the fact that you’re my wife,” Chan snaps back, still a little amused she’s trying
so hard. “Go fuck yourself, Kaeun. I’m not doing a thing for you.”
Kaeun gets up and Changbin keeps his face unreadable as she turns her eyes to him instead.
She doesn’t like that he’s always in their meetings but it’s for her own good. Changbin is
there to stop Chan killing her, he knows he’d love to.
“Fine,” Kaeun says, a fake smile plastered onto her pretty face. “Fine, Chan. Let’s play. You
may be untouchable but your friends aren’t. Especially Felix.”
She leaves before either of them can retaliate and when the door slams shut behind her,
Changbin turns to Chan who just looks exhausted.
“Chan-”
“Not now, Binnie, I’ve got a migraine.”
“Chan, take this seriously,” Changbin can’t help but croak. “She’s threatening Felix and she’s
right. She can really hurt him, she has the resources to do it.”
Chan runs a hand through his hair, he looks agitated and Changbin knows not to push it but
he can’t help but be worried too. It’s about Felix after all.
“I’ll figure out something,” Chan promises.

Changbin doesn’t feel reassured.
Jeongin puts away the last dish of the night. Lock up duty is his tonight and it’s just as well
because after the appearance of Chan’s fiance, Felix has been off all day.
Minho and Seungmin go home first and before Felix can clock out for the night, Chan
appears in the kitchen. He comes up to Felix and rubs his arm.
“Come home with me,” he tells the other. His voice is low but gentle.
Felix looks confused but he nods as Chan and waves at Jeongin as he follows him out.
The door closes and finally, Jeongin is left alone. He washes the benches, checks that the
main area is clean before locking the front door. When he steps back into the kitchen, he
jumps at the sight of Hyunjin standing at the back door.
“Fucking hell,” he scowls. “At least announce your presence, This restaurant is creepy at
night!”
A wry grin snakes over Hyunjin’s face and Jeongin ignores him as he goes about making sure
everything else is in place. He’s tired, it’s been a long day and he wants to go home but just
when he goes to lock the freezer, Hyunjin is suddenly at his side and holding his wrist still.
Jeongin glares at him. “Whatever you’re plotting, I’m not in the mood.”
Hyunjin tilts his head. Pretty eyes scanning Jeongin and it’s almost enough to make him feel
self-conscious. Almost.
“...what?”
“I brought you a present,” Hyunjin tells him sweetly. “Don’t you want to see?”
Jeongin doesn’t. He really doesn’t want to know what thing in Hyunjin’s twisted mind counts
as a present but he stays silent and Hyunjin takes that as a yes. Jeongin leans against the
freezer door, folding his arms as Hyunjin digs his cellphone out of his pocket and flicks
through the photos for a moment.
Then he shows him. It’s Kang Mogyul, mid-scream and it takes Jeongin a second to look
down and realise why. His eyes go wide, his skin pales and he’s speechless.
“I...I…”
“Perhaps I should have cut off his hands, but unfortunately he needs those,” Hyunjin tells
him, finally putting the phone away again.
“Are you insane?!”

Hyunjin levels him with a dull look, as if to say ‘bitch, I already am.’
Jeongin jumps back from the door, he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “Did
you kill him?”
“No, like I said, we still need him alive,” Hyunjin shrugs. “But nothing in Chan’s agreement
with him needs his cock so that was free for the taking.”
Jeongin stares at him, he’s insane. He’s absolutely insane but the smallest part of his shocked
brain whispers that Hyunjin wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t know what Mogyul had done
to Jeongin. That he’d done it for Jeongin. The gesture is insane but in some fucked up,
twisted part of Hyunjin’s world, that’s what counts as his affection.
Jeongin just doesn’t know what to do about it. Is Hyunjin going to keep mutilating anyone
who hurts him? Is he okay with that? Jeongin knows that Chan isn’t going to like this, if he
hasn’t already, he’s going to punish Hyunjin for it and yet Hyunjin had done it anyway.
He...cares.
Jeongin doesn’t know what to think about that, about any of it. So he does the first thing that
pops to mind. He steps closer, grabs the lapels of Hyunjin’s shirt and pulls him in for a kiss.
It takes him by surprise but what surprises him more is when Hyunjin kisses him back. He
can feel Hyunjin’s hands gently resting at his waist and leans in. It’s been awhile since
anyone’s touched him, it feels nice.
Jeongin’s mind is racing. At first he thinks Hyunjin is just kissing back instinctively but then
when Hyunjin tilts his head and deepens the kiss, Jeongin squeaks. He feels Hyunjin’s hand
at the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair with a gentleness Jeongin isn’t even
aware Hyunjin was capable of.
Then the door opens again, this time loudly and the two break apart in time to see Jisung
walking in. He looks at the two of them and settles his eyes on Hyunjin.
“We need to talk about what you did today,” he tells him before turning his eyes to Jeongin.
His tone is considerably softer when addressing him. “Innie, did you finish cleaning up?”
Jeongin’s face threatens to burn red as he nods and quickly goes to grab his bag. “Should I
lock everything?”
“No need,” Jisung assures him. “I’ll lock up. Just need to talk to Hyunjin first.”
Jeongin spares a glance at him. Hyunjin isn’t looking at him, he’s glaring at Jisung but his
lips are a little swollen. It sends a small thrill up Jeongin’s spine as he pulls the key from his
pocket and hands it to Jisung.
“Night, Innie,” Jisung smiles. Jeongin glances at Hyunjin once more and this time, Hyunjin is
looking at him. His eyes are burning.
Jeongin swallows the rush of arousal that threatens to shoot through him, he breaks the eye
contact and heads out into the cold night air.
It’s only when he’s outside that his lips start to tingle.
Chapter End Notes
Happy New Year guys! My oh my Hyunjin's gotten himself in trouble hasn't he?
Thank you for all the love and comments! I know I don't reply to them but rest assured
each and every comment is loved and definitely serves as fuel for writing the next
chapter :)
As most writers would attest, it's how you feed them XD
See you next time!
VI: Facta, Non Verba
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK

TIKTOK: 1 | 2
Jeongin rolls over in bed and glares at the alarm clock. The glowing red numbers read
3:45am and here he is. Still awake.
He stares up at the inky black that is his ceiling and slowly lifts a hand to brush his fingers
gently over his lips. They’re still tingling. He can feel Hyunjin’s hands holding him, the soft
plush of his lips and the butterflies that coil in his stomach don’t lie to him - though he dearly
wishes they would.
Unbelievable. Attracted to a psychopath like him.
Jeongin hasn’t forgotten that Hwang Hyunjin is dangerous. At least, his mind hasn’t
forgotten. His body is an entirely different matter and it betrays him by tingling and
squirming like a teenager with a crush.
Unbidden, he remembers the feel of Hyunjin’s hand in his hair. The way he’d made him feel
when he realised Hyunjin had mutilated Kang Mogyul for him. Maybe he should feel more
horrified for Mogyul but he doesn’t. Instead, he feels something close to….touched?
Flattered? A warming feeling that Hyunjin had done it for him.
By the sounds of Jisung’s tone, there will be consequences and against his own rational mind,
Jeongin finds himself hoping the consequences won’t be so drastic they take Hyunjin away
from him.
It would work if Hyunjin were removed from the picture. He could get back to his mission,
find out if Chan really is behind the disappearances without fear of any of them finding out if
he’s careful enough. But there’s a side of him, an annoyingly loud side, that wants him to
live.
Jeongin isn’t stupid….okay maybe he is. He recognises what he’s feeling well enough. He
felt it plenty of times back at the academy when he caught sight of someone he wouldn’t
mind crowding into a closet with him. It’s attraction and he has eyes, Hyunjin is the kind of
beautiful no one can ignore.
But he’s psychotic. He’s dangerous. He just fucking kebabed Mogyul’s dick without remorse.
Groaning to himself, Jeongin rolls over in bed again. His blankets and sheets are twisting
beneath him from all the wiggling he’s done tonight but he can’t find it in himself to care
much. His mind is a mess and come morning light, he’ll come to three decisions.
1. He needs to find out what is happening with those people who disappeared and just
how involved Chan is in that.
2. He needs to keep his head down in Gods Menu and gather all the evidence he can so he
can somehow send it back to his father.
3. He needs to stay away from Hwang Hyunjin.
Avoiding Hyunjin proves to be the hardest one because the second Jeongin walks into the
kitchen the next morning, he comes face to face with the man himself. He almost walks right
into him but stops at the very last second with a startled squeak when he looks up and meets
his eyes.
“Morning, Innie,” Hyunjin purrs.
Jeongin mumbles a hello and ducks away from him, he skitters to the bench where Seungmin
is already taking out the meat from the freezer. He can feel Hyunjin’s eyes on his back as he
hurries to give Seungmin a hand with carrying the frozen meat out and laying it on the
middle bench.
The morning routine is set in stone. Setup at 8am, open at 9am and from there the kitchen is a
busy place. Jeongin feels himself relax when Hyunjin ducks into the main room to start his
job but as he lays the packs of wrapped meat out on the counter, the sticker in the corner of
the wrapping catches his eye.
It’s just a little white sticker with the word RACHA written in black ink.
“Racha?” Jeongin frowns as Seungmin brings out the last piece of meat. “Is that where we
get our supplies?”
Seungmin nods. He pushes the freezer closed at last and pats the pack of meat on the counter.
“Our suppliers are all over South Korea but Racha is the main supplier of the meats. The
vegetables come from farmers in Daegu and Busan. Sometimes we get imported stuff from
Japan, Philippines, Indonesia and New Zealand.”
Jeongin’s eyebrows rise but he supposes it makes sense. He’s never worked in a restaurant
before so maybe this is standard practice. Still, he looks at the sticker and makes a mental
note to research the company later.
Felix comes in with Chan close behind him. Chan’s face is a little serious and he has one
hand on Felix’s shoulder as he steers him in and stops him in front of Jeongin and Seungmin.
“If my bitch of a fiancee comes,” Chan tells them as he gently pushes Felix towards them.
“Keep her away from him.”
Seungmin doesn’t seem surprised, he nods and heads to his station but Jeongin is the picture
of confused. He shoots a questioning look at Chan but when he doesn’t receive an answer,
Felix pats his arm.
“It’s okay, Innie,” he tells him. “She just doesn’t like me and...well she’s crazy.”
“Counting on you two,” Chan calls as he pats Felix’s shoulder one more time before
sweeping out as quickly as he’d come in.
Felix takes a deep breath and smiles uneasily at Jeongin. He looks like he’s alright but it’s
obvious on his face, something shook him. Jeongin remembers Kaeun of course, he
remembers the look she’d shot at Felix but he didn’t think much of it. This is clearly more
serious than he realised.
“Are you going to be okay?” he can’t help but ask as Felix starts to set up for the morning.
“Is it that bad?”
“It’s...she hates me,” Felix explains, still a little uneasy as he sets the vegetables aside. “And
she’s psychotic. She threatened to hurt me when Chan wouldn’t do something she wanted so
now Chan is kind of...guarding me,” he winces. He doesn’t seem too content with that. “He’s
a little overprotective.”
Seungmin doesn’t seem to want to get involved. He has his corner and he doesn’t make a
comment but every now and then, Jeongin sees him eyeing the door, as though afraid Kaeun
will storm in right then and there to shoot them all.
“I think you need to send him away.”
Chan takes two pills and chucks them back with a cold bottle of water. He has an aching
migraine and Changbin hovering like this isn’t helping but he does understand his worry.
Changbin is protective and loving of all the members but especially Felix - whom he has had
ridiculously passionate feelings for for years.
“Binnie, he’s safe here,” Chan assures him. “What do you think will happen? She’ll barge in
here with a shotgun and shoot holes in him?”
“The only reason she hates him so much is because she thinks you’re cheating on her with
him,” Changbin points out with an annoyed huff.
A wry grin snakes across Chan’s lips. “Well, she’s not wrong,” he hums. “I am cheating on
her. But not with Fe.”
“Tell her that,”
“I did and I’m not trying that again,” Chan sighs. “Binnie, baby, just leave it. He’s safe where
I can keep an eye on him and I can keep an eye on him at work.”
Changbin doesn’t look placated. He only pouts more but both their attention is taken when
the office door opens and Jisung appears.
“How’d it go with Mogyul?” Chan asks after rubbing his face. “And please give me good
news.”
Jisung shoots a wary look at Changbin. He reaches behind him to flick the lock and when it
clicks into place, Chan groans.
“Fuck, what happened?”
Jisung takes his time. He sits down in front of the desk and takes a moment to think through
what he’s about to say.
“I’ve already dealt with it,” he assures them both. “So before you guys freak on him, I’ve
handled it. I’ve warned him and if he does it again, I’ll be the one to bash his head in.”
Chan and Changbin’s faces darken and Jisung continues. “The meeting with Mogyul went
fine, until Hyunjin kebabed his balls with his dagger.”
Changbin and Chan both turn pale. Frozen to their spots and staring at Jisung with disbelief
at first, then realisation that yes, yes Hyunjin would do that if he had reason to.
“Why?” Chan asks first, Changbin seems to have trouble wrapping his head around this.
To that, Jisung can only shake his head. “We all know Mogyul’s a creep. No love lost there
but he is a valuable snitch and if word gets out about this, we’re going to have trouble
keeping them all in line.”
“Fucking hell,” Changbin growls, he paces the office angrily for a moment before he points a
finger at Jisung. “Bring him in.”
“Fuck, no, I said I handled it!” Jisung insists. “And I did! If Hyunjin steps one toe out of line,
I’ll know about it. But if I bring his ass in here for both of you to eat him alive, he’s going
to...both of you know he’s a loose cannon! We barely have him under control!”
Chan lifts a finger and it works, Changbin calms immediately. He comes back to Chan’s side
as Chan turns his attention back to Jisung.
“Watch him,” he orders in a steady voice. “Hyunjin is a loose cannon but he doesn’t do things
like that without reason. He had a reason for doing it this time, this is not the first time he’s
met Mogyul so something set him off. I want to know what it was.”
Jisung nods and as he gets up, Changbin takes a deep breath.
“Chan,” he says. “We don’t have the manpower to keep an eye on Hyunjin, not right now.
Not with your father aiming to be the next president.”
Chan makes a growling noise as though he just remembered that.
“Speaking of,” he says, annoyed but quietly determined. “Han, I need you to help me arrange
an event at Gods Menu within two weeks.”
Jisung nods where he’s paused at the door. “Another event like last time?”
“No, not like last time,” Chan says and his tone gives both Changbin and Jisung pause. It’s
heavy and laced with hesitance, as though he really doesn’t want to say what he’s about to
say next. “My engagement party. Father needs her father’s company to back him.”
Changbin looks horrified. “Chan-”
“The sooner I marry her, the sooner I can get her off Felix’s ass,” Chan promises. “It’s going
to happen sooner or later anyway. If I marry her, it gets her father’s support for my father’s
cause and it gives me the power to keep her busy and away from Felix.”
Jisung is silent, he’s watching Chan worriedly but just like Changbin, he gets it. He
understands the logic behind Chan’s reasoning and as unfair as it is, it will happen eventually.
It has to. Because unless Chan starts saying no to his father, he’s always going to adhere to
his wishes and do whatever he can to earn his approval.
As he’s always done.
Despite Jeongin’s fears that Chan’s fiance will just waltz in and shoot Felix, nothing happens
that day. Or the day after that, or the day after that. Felix stays with Chan after work and
Jeongin begins to understand that whatever’s going on, Chan has no intention of letting Felix
out of his sight.
“They’re like brothers,” Minho explains one night when Jeongin brings it up after Chan takes
Felix away at the end of his shift. Tonight the close-up job is left to both Minho and Jeongin.
“Felix and Chan are both Australian, so there’s that. It’s an instant connection, especially
when one is overseas.”
He catches Jeongin’s slightly confused look and grins. “You’ve never been overseas, have
you?”
Sheepishly, Jeongin shakes his head and Minho finishes wiping down the counter before
throwing the cloth away and turning to face him.
“So...it’s like being away from home. Away from everything that you find familiar and
comforting,” he explains easily.
Jeongin can’t help but compare that to his own situation. In Busan. Away from his home, his
family, mixed up with people he’s fairly certain have something to do with disappearances or
even murders. Not a comfortable situation.
“Being overseas, especially alone, is like being thrown in a cold pool with nothing to help
you float,” Minho explains. “Especially if said country speaks a different language. In such a
situation, looking for familiarity is normal. For Felix, that was Chan and vice versa.”
Slowly, Jeongin nods. “But hasn’t Chan been here longer?”
“He has. But he was still raised in Australia and to him, Felix represents everything that is his
childhood and home. It’s like having a little comforting piece of home with him all the time,”
Minho continues with a friendly nod. “I’ve been overseas myself, you see. So I get it, I tried
looking for any piece of home too, just for comfort. I never had my own Felix but I had my
cats.”
“You and your fucking cats,” Hyunjin’s voice groans from the doorway.
Jeongin can’t help but freeze. He hadn’t realised Hyunjin was still here.
Minho looks a little surprised too but he recovers much faster and a scowl quickly replaces
his pretty feline features. “Hyunjin,” he sighs. “Thought you’d gone home already.”
“Got something to do,” Hyunjin shrugs and holds out his hand. “I’ll lock up tonight. This’ll
take some time.”
Jeongin eyes the exit. Already he’s thinking of ways he can get out of here with Minho but
before he can act on any of it, Hyunjin adds: “Innie, can you stay behind?”
Oh god. Hyunjin’s pretty eyes pierce through him and Jeongin feels himself freezing. He’s
pretty sure his frozen terror is clear on his face because that’s when Minho frowns.
“Need help with something?” he asks. “No need to keep the baby in longer than he has to, I’ll
stay behind.”
Oh thank you, thank you Minho, Jeongin is saying in his head. Thankyouthankyouthankyou.
“No need, hyung,” Hyunjin says and Jeongin wasn’t even aware he could sound so respectful
and look so innocent. But that smile he shoots at Minho almost makes his face shine with
pure innocence. “Innie owes me one anyway.”
To Jeongin’s silent dismay, Minho nods and hands the key over. He picks up his bag and pats
Jeongin’s shoulder on his way out. “Alright then,” he chirps. “Don’t work too late!”
Then he’s gone. Jeongin hears the door click behind him and the second it does, Hyunjin’s at
his side. Jeongin doesn’t even have a chance. Hyunjin’s arm wraps around his middle, his
other bracing him against the counter he’s leaning on and Jeongin quickly finds himself chest
to chest with him.
Hyunjin’s pretty eyes are relentless as one eyebrow arches, unimpressed.
“You’ve been avoiding me, Innie.”
Jeongin wants to deny it but he can already tell there’s no point. Hyunjin can see right
through him.
“I’ll remind you that you’re the one who kissed me first,” Hyunjin continues and Jeongin
squeaks as he can feel Hyunjin’s hand sliding gently from his middle down to his hip. “If
you’re ignoring me just because of that, you should know that you suck at kissing.”
There it is. Jeongin somehow finds the will to move again as he quickly shoves a laughing
Hyunjin back a few steps. Seeing the psycho laugh manages to piss him off more and Jeongin
can’t help but wonder what it means when Hyunjin can make him freeze in submission but
the second he pisses him off, Jeongin’s submission goes out the window.
He pushes Hyunjin back again, this time a little harder and feels a small thrill rush up his
back when he sees Hyunjin actually stumble a bit.
“I’ve never had any complaints,” he spits and he doesn’t know why he’s even bothering to
justify this to Hyunjin.
Hyunjin catches himself on the middle counter and giggles. “Oh of course you haven’t,” he
teases. “Because you’re the one who topped all the time, right? You know the mental image
of you topping anyone is hilarious.”
Jeongin manages to kick him in the shin. He gets one pained grunt but when he tries again,
Hyunjin dodges with grace Jeongin has never seen in anyone. He dodges, drops down and
with one swift kick, he knocks Jeongin’s legs out from under him. Jeongin’s head just
narrowly misses a collision with the corner of the counter as he falls to the floor and looks up
at Hyunjin laughing at him.
Arrogant prick.
Jeongin quickly picks himself up and glares. “What did you keep me behind for?” he asks. “I
wanna go home.”
“Oh come on,” Hyunjin giggles and it’s disarming. He’s pissing Jeongin off, he’s more than
capable of kicking him down to the floor and yet the way he’s giggling reminds Jeongin of a
child. “You were just getting interesting, Innie. Don’t you find it tiring to be so meek and
maknae-like all the time?”
Jeongin narrows his eyes. Irritating. He’s so irritating and yet he continues. It’s like he gets a
kick out of pissing Jeongin off.
“Tell me,” Hyunjin says, his graceful body leaning against the counter as he lifts one hand to
flick a stray blonde lock from his eyes. “When you had your little trysts in the broom closet
or whatever you were doing back at the academy, did you have any kinks?”
Jeongin fumes. “If you’re not going to keep me for any actual work, I’m going home.”
He almost gets there too. He picks up his bag, throws it over his shoulder, walks towards the
back door but before he can get there, Hyunjin grabs him, turns him around and slams his
back into the door. The slam is so jarring that it blurs Jeongin’s vision for a precious few
seconds.
When his vision clears, Hyunjin is there. Chest to chest, one hand holding his wrist and the
other around his waist as he presses his entire body into the door.
Hyunjin is stunning up close. Stray locks of blonde fall over his dark eyes, the rest is tied up
in half a ponytail. Jeongin can see little braids sewn in. The plush of his lips makes Jeongin
shiver. They’re parted, he can feel his breathing against his face and his insides churn in a
familiar mush of heat and desire. Stronger than he’s ever felt before for anyone else.
Jeongin isn’t immune to a beautiful person, he’ll admit that easily. But there’s something else
about Hyunjin. This isn’t just because he’s so pretty, it’s more than that.
Jeongin wants him most when he’s angry with him and Hyunjin seems to get off on making
Jeongin so angry.
It’s Hyunjin who moves in first this time. Last time they kissed, it had been a spur of the
moment thing from Jeongin. A clash of awkward lips, surprise and momentary response. This
time Hyunjin kisses him so hard his lips might bruise. He sucks the air right from Jeongin’s
lungs and all Jeongin can do is whimper and grab his shoulders.
The butterflies in his stomach are fluttering relentlessly. His entire body feels like it’s about
to ignite in flames but he can’t pull back from Hyunjin. He doesn’t want to.
Hyunjin’s arm around him tightens and Jeongin squeaks as Hyunjin lifts him from the door
and drags him away from it. Jeongin’s bag drops to the floor, neither notice as Jeongin’s
hands slide into Hyunjin’s hair and Hyunjin’s other arm wraps around Jeongin’s waist to pick
him up. Jeongin’s legs wrap around Hyunjin’s waist and for a moment he doesn’t even know
where Hyunjin is carrying him until he finds his back pressed against another door.
A colder, larger door. The cold against his back makes him gasp and the kiss breaks as he
looks up to see he’s pressed against the freezer door.
Hyunjin’s lips are on his neck. He’s biting hard and Jeongin’s cry of pain quickly turns to a
moan when Hyunjin’s body presses against him, deliberately rubbing against a growing
erection he hadn’t even realised was there.
Suddenly Jeongin doesn’t care if he’s pressed against the freezer door. He doesn’t care about
anything but tugging on Hyunjin’s hair and feeling him press against him again.
Jeongin’s back rubs against the door. He’s quite helplessly trapped in Hyunjin’s hold, a slave
to every move of Hyunjin’s hips and it takes him a moment longer than it should to realise
what Hyunjin’s doing. Every move of his hips, every deliberate press against his crotch robs
his mind of all coherent thought but when he looks down he almost loses it. Hyunjin is
rubbing himself against Jeongin, dry humping him into the door and the look on his face, the
evil smirk on his face is almost enough to finish Jeongin off then and there.
“Shit…”
“Come on, Innie,” Hyunjin teases as though he’s not as hard as Jeongin is. But he is, Jeongin
can feel him. He can see the flush of pink in Hyunjin’s cheeks and although Hyunjin is trying
to pretend he’s not as affected, Jeongin knows he is.
Jeongin’s hands move down from his hair to his shoulders. His fingers dig in when Hyunjin
thrusts against him and he has to bite a moan down at the rush he feels coursing through his
veins. ‘Fuck you.”
Hyunjin’s laugh is doing things to Jeongin’s sanity. He moves again and Jeongin whimpers,
he’s not going to last long at this rate. Even if he closes his eyes, he can still hear Hyunjin’s
breathing, he can still feel his body and his heat.
Why is he doing this? To get back at Jeongin? To humiliate him? Jeongin throws his head
back against the door and holds on tight to Hyunjin’s shoulders. He’s not going to last. He’s
not going to make it. But he can at least pull this son of a bitch down with him.
As with most things about Hyunjin, logic doesn’t always apply. Jeongin goes by instinct and
opens his eyes to look at his face. He knows he’s a mess, he knows he’s on the verge and
Hyunjin is feeding off that. The smirk on his face, the utter satisfaction upon seeing Jeongin
falling apart in his arms…
Jeongin’s hands unclench where they were holding onto Hyunjin’s shoulders. They slide up
to Hyunjin’s face with such delicate tenderness it actually gives Hyunjin pause. Mild
confusion blooms on his face but before he can really do anything about it, Jeongin holds his
face in his hands and leans in to kiss him. It’s not like before. Not angry, not frustrated, not
awkward or confused. It’s gentle and for the first time, he hears Hyunjin make a small noise,
confused, almost a whimper.
Hyunjin loses it first. His entire body shudders and Jeongin wraps an arm around his
shoulder, kissing Hyunjin’s moan down and swallowing it whole. He follows soon after with
a whimper but it’s short-lived. Victory bells are ringing in his head, he won whatever game
they were playing. He’s still panting as he slides down the door and onto his own two feet.
Hyunjin is panting against his shoulder. He still looks stunned. He hadn’t expected to go first
and he hadn’t expected such a blatant show of tenderness right when it looked like he had
everything under his control.
Jeongin can’t help but take the moment to gloat.
“I won.”
Hyunjin lets out a breathless chuckle and shakes his head. “You’re playing dirty, Innie.”
Jeongin wiggles out from between Hyunjin’s body and the freezer door. He composes himself
quickly before heading back to the door to pick up his forgotten bag.
When he turns around, Hyunjin is still leaning against the freezer door. He’s a mess. His hair
is tangled all over the place, his cheeks are pink and his chest rises and falls with his breath
he’s still trying to catch. Jeongin knows he doesn’t look much better, he’s going to need a
shower to deal with the wetness in his pants but he still feels victorious.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he manages to say.
Then he leaves, out the back door and into the chilly night air. The whole walk home, his
brain is a mess, he almost can’t believe that even happened. His mind is filled with Hyunjin’s
moans, his skin marred with Hyunjin’s bites and scent.
When he finally does climb into bed, Hyunjin’s eyes haunt his dreams.
“I have a job for you.”
Hyunjin eyes Chan suspiciously but doesn’t speak up. It’s quite clear that Chan and Changbin
know about Mogyul. Neither have brought it up - Hyunjin suspects this is because Jisung told
them not to - but it’s obvious in the way they look at him. Like they’re trying to figure out if
Hyunjin is still on their side.
Good. Keep them guessing.
“Alone?”
Chan nods.
“There’s a radio DJ who runs the morning shift,” Chan explains. “And lately he’s
been….questioning my father’s leadership.”
Hyunjin fights to keep a straight face. He knows for a fact that Chan doesn’t give a shit about
this, Chan would be the first person to agree that his father is a corrupt, evil bastard. But for
reasons that Hyunjin cannot possibly fathom, Chan has unwavering loyalty to his father -
even though he knows his father would be the worst president South Korea has ever known.
Loyalty to blood runs deep. Hyunjin is glad he can’t empathise with such a handicap.
“Let me guess,” he speaks up. “He’s making loud proclamations that your father is unfit to
run for presidency and your father wants him silenced.”
“Do it loudly and he’ll become a martyr,” Chan warns. “The public aren’t stupid. If the guy
who’s loudly questioning the Prime Minister’s authority suddenly turns up dead, it’s going to
point right back to my father. They’ll recognise an impending dictatorship long before it
happens.”
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. ‘So...you want him to go missing?”

“No, that’ll draw attention to him,” Chan says, he leans back in his chair and takes a deep
breath. “I want you to be….creative.”
Hyunjin tilts his head. He can’t deny it, he’s intrigued. Chan has never given him this much
freedom before. His orders usually roll around kidnapping someone or killing them quickly -
usually with supervision from either Jisung or Changbin. He’s never been trusted to do one of
these things, especially not alone and with the freedom to choose his method.
“I’ll send you the name and address,” Chan promises and points a finger. “Kill only him.
That man has kids and a wife, don’t touch them and don’t let them see you.”
With a nod, Hyunjin turns on his heel to leave. Just as he reaches the door, Chan’s voice stops
him in his tracks.
“And Hyunjin. If you pull another stunt like the one you did with Mogyul, I will end you.
Understand?”
Hyunjin doesn’t turn around, he feels his blood run cold and can only nod once before
leaving. As soon as the door closes behind him, he heads straight for the kitchen and looks in.
Jeongin is working at the bench, chopping up vegetables with Felix.
Now there’s a logical, very, very logical part of Hyunjin’s mind that knows he’s expected to
do this mission alone. Go in, do it, go out. No fanfare, no noise, no witnesses. But as he leans
against the wall to watch Jeongin work, his mind turns to the more illogical part of his head.
The one full of bad ideas that anyone with a brain would recognise as such.
He walks into the kitchen and smiles when he sees the muscles in Jeongin’s back stiffen once
the other senses his presence. Good. Those are good survival instincts.
“Innie,” he says, his tone surprisingly casual as he comes to the bench and leans in. “I need
your hand with something.”
Felix looks curious but Jeongin keeps his eyes down on the vegetables.
Felix isn’t close enough to hear but Hyunjin catches Jeongin muttering under his breath.
“Give yourself a hand.”
“Don’t worry,” Felix says, good nature coming out again at the worst possible moment as he
takes the knife from Jeongin’s hand. “I’ll take over here.”
“It’ll take awhile,” Hyunjin warns and Felix shrugs.
“It’s nearly closing time anyway, we don’t get that many customers this late at night.”
Jeongin looks like he’s one second away from whining but he nods and shoots a glare at
Hyunjin when no one else is looking.
With a small sigh, Jeongin goes to grab his bag and takes off his apron.
“Let’s go then.”
The car ride is unbearably silent. Jeongin shifts uncomfortably in his seat and keeps his gaze
out the window as Hyunjin drives. The other hasn’t said more than two words since they left
the restaurant. Not a word on where they’re going, why and why the fuck he couldn’t just go
alone.
Asshole.
“Can you at least turn on some music or something?” Jeongin asks after another ten minutes
of suffocating silence. “And where the hell are we going?”
Hyunjin doesn’t answer and when Jeongin turns to look at him, the other has his eyes on the
road but every now and then, his eyes flick to his rearview mirror. Jeongin follows his gaze to
see a black sedan following a few feet behind them.
“Hyunjin?”
“Fine, turn on some music,” Hyunjin finally relents but Jeongin is more concerned about the
sedan now.
“Where are we going?” he asks again. “Are we being followed?”
Hyunjin sighs, he stops dutifully at a red light and finally turns to look at Jeongin. He points
to the glovebox. “Open that.”
Jeongin does and the only thing inside is a thick, barely used coil of silver duct tape. He pulls
it out and looks over it with a frown.
“If you don’t stop asking me questions, I’m going to put that over your mouth,” Hyunjin
threatens.
If it’s meant to scare Jeongin however, it falls miserably flat. Jeongin holds the tape to his
chest and glares at Hyunjin. “The fuck you are!”
There’s that smile again. The one that makes the butterflies in Jeongin’s stomach perform the
fucking swan dance. He has to look away as Hyunjin drives ahead when the light turns green.
“One day you might want me to strap you down with duct tape, Innie,” he says, his tone a lot
lighter and more playful. Jeongin prefers it when he’s threatening - that at least, he can deal
with.
Jeongin still isn’t letting that duct tape go. He holds it to himself and kicks the glovebox
closed. “Not fucking likely.”
It’s almost 11pm. The longer Hyunjin drives, the more acutely aware Jeongin becomes of the
empty night roads. He’s driving well out of Busan now and the further from the city he gets,
the emptier the roads are until it’s just them and that black sedan behind them. Jeongin moves
at one point to look over his shoulder but is abruptly stopped when Hyunjin grabs his
shoulder and pushes him back down into his seat.
“Don’t look.”
“How can I fucking ignore it? We’re being followed.”
“Yeah. And the first rule when you’re being followed is not to turn around in your seat and
gawk at them through the back window,” Hyunjin scolds as though he’s talking to a three
year old. “Might as well just tattoo ‘murder me please’ on your forehead.”
Jeongin frowns. He should be scared. He’s been followed on the road before. There was this
one time in Seoul, he was driving with a friend and some crazy stalker followed them for a
good hour. They kept driving because they were afraid to stop and let the guy actually hurt
them but they drove around the whole city trying to lose him. Jeongin had been terrified,
sitting in the passenger seat, on the phone to his father as he tried to describe the car.
Now he’s being followed again. Same situation but this time, he’s not afraid.
He glances at Hyunjin. The other has his hair tied up again, stray blonde locks curtaining his
pretty face. Hyunjin is wearing a long sleeve white button up shirt that looks a little too
formal for him. His pants are normal black jeans and converse sneakers. It’s a plain look but
somehow he manages to look breathtakingly stunning anyway.
Whatever’s following them in that car cannot be as dangerous as Hyunjin and maybe that’s
why Jeongin doesn’t feel afraid.
They drive for another thirty minutes. Hyunjin keeps glancing at the car through the rearview
mirror but it stays a safe distance away from them. They’re just nearing a rural town when
Hyunjin suddenly makes a left and pulls up along the side of the road.
Jeongin’s eyes widen. “Wha-why are you pulling over?” he asks.
Sure enough, the sedan behind them is parking too. Still a safe distance, but it stops when
they do.
“Stop looking at it,” Hyunjin warns.
Jeongin looks around instead. They’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s a sign for a town
just a little down the road but right here, there’s nothing. Nothing but dark fields, no lights
and an empty road save for the two cars.
“Hyun-”
Warm lips. Hyunjin’s hands hold Jeongin’s face and for a clear moment, Jeongin can’t form a
single coherent thought. When he feels Hyunjin’s tongue on his lip, he gasps and pulls back
far enough to grab Hyunjin’s shirt.
“What the fuck?!” he splutters. “We’ve got a stalker behind us and you want to fuck?!”
Hyunjin’s smile is doing weird things to him and Jeongin wants to look away but he can’t.
Hyunjin is still holding his face.
“Let’s give them a show.”
“Let’s fucking not!” Jeongin squeaks angrily. He tries to pull back, he hits Hyunjin’s chest
but the other just laughs and pulls him closer. Jeongin feels his lips against his temple, his
forehead, in his hair and he rips a fist free to batter it against Hyunjin’s chest.
“Get off me you fucking exhibitionist!” he tries to scream.
Finally, Hyunjin pulls back. Just far enough to look at him properly and Jeongin doesn’t
realise up until now that breathing is a lot harder. With one kiss, Hyunjin had stolen the air
from his lungs. Jeongin’s cheeks burn, his body feels like it’s on fire and he hates every
reaction the other pulls from him.
Because that means fucking in a car whilst someone is most definitely watching isn’t
completely off the table for him.
“Innie,” Hyunjin speaks and finally his tone is serious. Quiet, but serious. “The guys behind
us will go away if we do something they don’t wanna watch.”
That makes Jeongin stop. He frowns and it doesn’t make sense but then none of this does.
“Who’s following us?”
Hyunjin just shakes his head, which Jeongin interprets as an ‘I don’t know’.
It’s at this point that he notices how short of breath Hyunjin is too. In the dim light of the car,
he can see the flush of his cheeks, the wide set of his eyes. Ploy or not, kissing Jeongin
affected him too. Just like last time. As much as Hyunjin likes to take control and he really
can, he’s not immune to what Jeongin does to him.
It makes a thrill rush down Jeongin’s spine at the thought. He can see how much Hyunjin
wants him just by looking into his eyes and the way Hyunjin looks at him makes Jeongin feel
wanted. Like he’s the only person in the world worth wanting. It’s a strangely powerful and
simultaneously helpless feeling.
The car behind them hasn’t moved. The lights are off but it’s still there. Jeongin finds himself
caring less as he leans in to catch Hyunjin’s lips and he doesn’t miss the small sound the
other makes as his fingers slide into Hyunjin’s hair and pull it free from its ponytail.
It’s awkward at first. They’re both leaning over the gear in the middle, hands grabbing each
other, pulling each other closer without actually leaving their seats. Jeongin’s mind has long
turned off and Hyunjin can’t seem to get him close enough. His kisses are heated and
bruising, his tongue relentless and his hands pull at Jeongin’s uniform until the fabric nearly
rips.
He hears Hyunjin mutter a quiet ‘fuck’ under his breath and suddenly Hyunjin’s seat moves
back, allowing enough space for him to grab Jeongin and drag him onto his lap. Jeongin
moves without hesitation, it’s still an awkward shift but he can’t pull away from Hyunjin.
When he slides onto Hyunjin’s lap, his thigh brushes against a hardness in Hyunjin’s pants
that makes the blonde swear again and bite Jeongin’s bottom lip.
Jeongin’s hands shake. They’re pushing Hyunjin’s shirt up until it’s no longer tucked in. His
fingers slide along the buttons, shaking as he pushes each one out with slight difficulty. His
hand slips onto the first patch of skin he finds and Hyunjin’s hand slides down to hold his
waist. His hips are moving up to meet Jeongin’s thigh, hardness pushing against him and
Hyunjin’s body is like a furnace.
Jeongin is panting. He’s hard too, uncomfortably so but he can’t straddle Hyunjin here,
there’s no room. It’s not a satisfying position at all for either of them but they can’t pull away
from each other.
That’s when Hyunjin’s hand lands on Jeongin’s lap and slips up to undo his belt. Jeongin
can’t help but moan, his face slipping down to hide in Hyunjin’s neck as long, talented
fingers finally slip into his pants, underneath his underwear and grasp him.
“Fucking shit,” Jeongin hisses. He’s gripping Hyunjin’s shoulder with one hand, the headrest
of the seat with the other and he squirms, trying to find the best friction against Hyunjin’s
hand. It’s not enough, his pants aren’t pulled down far enough and Hyunjin can only hold him
but he has no space to move his hand.
“Backseat,” Hyunjin mutters but it sounds more like a gasp, like he’s seconds away from
losing his mind too.
Jeongin doesn’t waste time. He climbs off Hyunjin and scrambles through to the backseat.
Once he gets there, he frantically pulls at his pants as he hears Hyunjin pull the drivers seat
up and climb over to join him.
Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate at all, he pushes Jeongin onto his back and climbs over him. Jeongin
wants to protest but when Hyunjin’s lips nibble and bite at his neck, all he can do is hold his
shoulders and squirm beneath him.
Hyunjin’s hands are moving. His mouth is marking, biting, bruising but his hands are pulling
Jeongin out of his pants and underwear with surprising speed and skill. His hand grasps
Jeongin’s weeping cock and the other nearly screams.
-
Changbin, being a man of mercurial temperament, has a lot of hobbies. One thing Jisung has
learnt over the years is that Changbin never sticks to just one hobby. He jumps, whim to
whim on what interests him at any given time.
One of his hobbies was cars and as a result, he has about three of them. The one he uses the
least is the one Hyunjin has never seen and thus was safe to follow him with. The black
sedan.
Jisung and Changbin sit in the front, lights off, watching Hyunjin’s car bounce as he and
Jeongin climb into the back.
“I didn’t know he was seeing Innie,” Jisung mutters to himself.
Changbin doesn’t say anything. He’s sitting in the drivers seat, watching curiously as the two
figures in the back grab at each other.
Jisung shifts in his seat. They were told to follow Hyunjin to make sure he did his job but it’s
quite clear that he has other things to do tonight.
“Binnie,” he says, drawing the others attention. “We should go. He’s not gonna get himself in
trouble tonight.”
“I was just…” Changbin tilts his head, his eyes watching the two going at it. “...thinking.
About Fe.”
Jisung somehow manages not to roll his eyes. He looks back at the two in the car and shakes
his head. “You see Innie and Hyunjin having sex and you think about Felix?” he asks, a little
amused. “Seriously, how long are you going to go on with this quiet crush of yours? Just tell
him already.”
“He’s got enough on his plate right now without me adding to it,” Changbin huffs, a little
annoyed. “And besides, what’s the deal with Chan marrying that psycho bitch? We could
make her disappear.”
“No, we couldn’t, she’s untouchable,” Jisung reminds him dully. “She’s a rich heiress with a
family who would most definitely come after Chan if something ever happened to her.”
Changbin growls. He leans back in his seat and takes a deep breath. “I just hate this. I don’t
want to see Chan marry her, I’d rather put a bullet in her head myself and take the fall for it.
Fuck Chan’s father.”
There, Jisung can agree. None of them can understand Chan’s loyalty to that man.
Chan’s loyalty to his father borders on pure insanity. He knows damn well his father will be
the worst thing to ever happen to South Korea, he knows his father is an ambitious and
selfish man and yet still he’ll do as he asks.
What kind of twisted loyalty is that?

“Really, we should get out of here,” Jisung suggests. “I’ve got Minho waiting at home and I
don’t exactly wanna see Hyunjin getting it on with Innie.”
With a deep sigh, Changbin nods and turns the keys in the ignition. He pulls out onto the road
and does a U-turn back to Busan.
Hyunjin collapses into Jeongin’s chest to catch his breath. Underneath him, Jeongin is a
mess, his breathing is ragged, chest rising and falling as he tries to gasp for air. Between them
is a mess of sweat and cum on both their hands, pants pulled halfway down and shirts pushed
up as far as they can go.
Jeongin stares up at the ceiling. Tufts of Hyunjin’s hair tickle his chin but he can’t be
bothered moving. Instead his arm rests over Hyunjin’s back as he flicks his eyes to the
window and watches the stars in the sky.
“I think…” Hyunjin finally manages once he has enough air in his lungs to speak, “...they’re
gone.”
Jeongin shakes his head. He’d honestly forgotten about the other car. His body is a mess right
now, he feels bruises from Hyunjin’s mouth, his teeth and his hands. Despite that, he feels
good. A good kind of exhausted. It’s not the full monty of course, but Hyunjin has talented
hands.
“When we finally do fuck for real, that’ll be interesting,” Hyunjin giggles breathlessly.
“Why?”
“Because you’re kind of a demon,” Hyunjin replies innocently. He pushes Jeongin’s shirt up
and bites at his nipple, causing the younger to squeak and squirm beneath him. “I’m going to
have bruises on my neck.”
“You won’t be the only one,” Jeongin mutters and finally, some energy seeps back into him
as his body relaxes and feels the sting of Hyunjin’s attentions over the last hour.
“Now what?” Jeongin asks after a moment. “Did you really just drive me one hour out of
Busan just to molest me in the backseat of your car?”
That makes Hyunjin laugh and Jeongin wishes he didn’t like the sound as much as he does.
“No, I really do have something to do,” he promises. “I just knew someone was going to
follow me. Hence the need for you.”
Jeongin frowns. “Oh, so I was the distraction?”
“Correct.”
Jeongin isn’t sure how he feels about that. He can feel slight disappointment but the majority
isn’t surprised. Why wouldn’t a psychopath like Hyunjin use him like this? Why did he let
him?
Hyunjin climbs off him and pulls his pants back up. As he does, Jeongin takes the
opportunity to lean down and pick up his underwear from where it’s almost hiding under the
front passenger seat. Hyunjin climbs back into the front and as he starts the car, Jeongin is
awkwardly squirming his legs back into his pants with the limited space of the backseat.
The car lurches forwards and Jeongin almost falls off the seat. He catches himself with one
hand on the back of the drivers seat as he pushes himself into a sitting position and fixes his
belt.
“Where are we going?”
Silence. Hyunjin drives ahead and Jeongin can’t help but glare at the back of his head. He
doesn’t bother climbing into the front. Not now that Hyunjin’s driving, he might make them
crash.
The sleepy rural neighbourhood is full of quiet houses. The only light comes from the
streetlights and the occasional automatic porch light as Hyunjin’s car rolls quietly by. He’s
going at a snails pace, his eyes scanning the houses until he finally comes to a stop in front of
one.
Jeongin observes the house. There’s nothing special about it. It almost looks like one of those
suburban houses one might see in a 1950’s American show. Complete with the front lawn, the
gate, the tall, two-storey building one would never see in the heart of Seoul.
Hyunjin turns to look at him. His eyes are dark and it gives Jeongin pause as he senses the air
change suddenly. Hyunjin is serious but this is something else too. Something Jeongin hasn’t
met yet.
“Stay here.”
He doesn’t give Jeongin the chance to argue - not that he would anyway. Jeongin watches as
Hyunjin climbs out of the car and walks around to pop the trunk open. Jeongin turns in his
seat, he can’t see what Hyunjin is doing but when the blonde closes the trunk, Jeongin can
see him tucking something into the back of his pants. Was that a gun?
He comes around to Jeongin’s side of the car and knocks on the window. When Jeongin rolls
it down, Hyunjin takes something out of his pocket and hands it to him.
It’s heavy, smooth leather. Jeongin looks down to see it’s a switchblade knife and his eyes
widen in alarm.
“Here’s the rules,” Hyunjin says quietly. “You don’t get out of this car. You don’t make a
single noise. You climb into the drivers seat and wait for me. Get out your phone.”
Jeongin is too dumbfounded to disobey. Once he unlocks the screen, Hyunjin takes the phone
from him and sets it to timer. He flicks the dial to ten minutes and as it starts counting down,
he hands the phone back to Jeongin.
“If I’m not back in ten minutes, leave without me.”
To say Jeongin is alarmed and concerned would be an understatement. He stares at Hyunjin

and feels his blood freezing.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Roll up the window and get into the drivers seat,” Hyunjin tells him as he pushes away from
the car and starts making his way to the gate. “Move it, Innie.”
Jeongin stares and for a helpless moment, he can’t do anything but watch as Hyunjin vaults
over the gate and quietly makes his way towards the house without a sound. It’s only when
Hyunjin’s form disappears around the side of the house that Jeongin finally realises what he’s
supposed to do and he rolls the window up first.
He then climbs up to the front, taking great care not to bump the horn as he sits in the drivers
seat and looks at the keys still in the ignition.
The blade is heavy in his hands. The timer ticks down agonizingly slow as silence begins to
envelope the car.
It’s the longest ten minutes of Jeongin’s life. Hyunjin’s warnings were so serious that Jeongin
keeps looking around, expecting something like a zombie to jump up and attack the car at
any moment. There aren’t even any crickets outside, not even the rustle of wind, not a single
sound and it’s suffocating.
Jeongin thinks he hears something. A quiet snap and he looks out to the other side of the
road. The houses over there are quiet, dark, everyone should be asleep.
Then the car bounces, the trunk pops open and Jeongin just barely manages to stifle a scream
as he whips around to see the lid of the trunk shadowing the back window. Something heavy
lands inside and Jeongin is almost paralyzed with fear.
Then the trunk closes, Hyunjin’s face appears and Jeongin almost sags with relief as he
watches the other smile and come around to open the passenger door and climb in.
“Done.”
Jeongin whacks his arm immediately. “You asshole! I thought someone was going to attack
me! Why didn’t you warn me before you opened the trunk?!”
“You seemed distracted,” Hyunjin giggles, a stark contrast to his earlier seriousness. It’s gone
now, replaced instead with a smile. “Can you drive?”
“Of course I can drive,” Jeongin sniffs, offended.
“Well then, you drive us back,” Hyunjin suggests. “I could use some shut-eye.”
“What did you do?” Jeongin can’t help but ask. He points to the back of the car. “What did
you put in the trunk?”
“If you wanna find out, I can put you in the trunk with it,” Hyunjin offers with a playful
smile. “Still got that duct tape?”
“Fuck you.”
“Later, Innie,” the blonde promises as he pushes his seat back and lies back with an
obnoxious grin. “I’ll get you some flavoured condoms if you prefer?”
Jeongin growls but he gives up on the trunk as he starts the car up and pulls away from the
curb.
The car drives quietly out of the rural neighbourhood. None of its residents wake, none notice
the strangers leave.
Tomorrow morning, the sleepy, quiet rural neighbourhood will be swarming with police.
Neighbours will be peering over yellow tape, desperate to catch a glimpse of the body being
rolled out towards the ambulance and the traumatised children who found her. Detectives will
scratch their heads, desperately looking for clues into the sudden disappearance of radio DJ
Kim Hwarang - the very man gagged, bound and stuffed in the trunk of Hyunjin’s car.
VII: Audentes Fortuna Iuvat
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
When Jeongin comes in for his shift on Monday, Felix is way too excited. He barely takes
one step towards the workbench before Felix grabs his arm and pulls him aside.
“Hyunjin is in deep shit,” Felix says, his voice hushed as though someone might be listening
in. “Deep, deep, deep shit.”
“Wait, what?” Jeongin blinks and his mind has to wrench itself to the conversation from the
thinking he’d been doing before he stepped foot in the restaurant.
The night before keeps playing over and over in his head. The sound of Hyunjin’s moans, his
grasping hands that left bruises, his bites that left marks all over Jeongin’s neck….well that’s
one thing but another he can’t stop thinking about is whatever Hyunjin was doing when he
left Jeongin alone in the car.
Jeongin wishes he’d have looked. He wishes he’d have pushed more but Hyunjin had been
quite adamant about leaving it well alone. In the moment, Jeongin had no choice but to obey
but in the aftermath, all he has is regret. That could have been a chance to find something,
instead he’s left blind again.
“So, Chan called Hyunjin over last night,” Felix says, sparkles in his eyes as he seems to
enjoy this round of gossip. “And oh fuck, the screaming I heard. Chan never screams.”
Jeongin raises an eyebrow, he can’t imagine Hyunjin screaming either. He’s seen the other
cocky, cold and silent but never heated and screaming.
“Apparently he asked Hyunjin to do something and Hyunjin totally fucked it up,” Felix
continues, unconcerned with the confusion in Jeongin’s eyes. “I don’t know what it was
about exactly but it must have been important.”
“Where is Hyunjin?” Jeongin asks. “Is he coming in today?”
“Doubt it, he and Chan headed out somewhere this morning,” Felix shrugs happily. “Binnie
took me to work today.”
Questions. All Jeongin has are questions that, frustratingly enough, have no answer. When
Seungmin wanders in, Felix bounces off to him to tell him about it too but Jeongin is left to
think. Could Chan’s request have had anything to do with what Hyunjin did? Whatever he
put in the car?
If only Jeongin knew where the hell they even were last night but Hyunjin hadn’t told him
and the night had been so dark. He hadn’t even seen a sign.
He bites his lip and glances over at Seungmin and Felix chatting away. Chan and Hyunjin are
not in today and Jeongin’s options of finding out what on earth they’re doing are non-
existent. But with Chan and Hyunjin out of the way, one door has opened, Jeongin thinks as
he flicks his eyes to the freezer.
Hyunjin keeps stopping him whenever he tries to snoop and Jeongin isn’t suicidal enough to
rouse Chan’s suspicions. But with both of them out, that means Jisung will have his hands
full on the floor and Changbin will manage the main office. They’ll be shorthanded enough
and to add to the miraculousness of it all, Jeongin is on lockup duty. There will be no one
there to stop him snooping around.
Of course there’s always the chance someone could walk in. Maybe Chan and Hyunjin will
come back after hours and they’ll expect the restaurant closed and locked already but Jeongin
won’t get a better chance than this. He needs answers, he knows he’s in deep, deep shit but he
needs to find out just how deep it is.
Then he can assess whether or not to try running back to Seoul to inform his father in the
hopes that the man will do the right thing and not get the both of them killed - or disappear
for good to save his own skin.
It’s tempting. It’s so tempting. If he could find a way to change his name, board a plane
somewhere to Europe and hope that no one would ever find him, he’d be safe.
How hard is it to learn German or Norwegian anyway? Can’t be harder than working around
a bunch of suspicious people with their fingers far too deep in the police and South Korean
politics.
He gets to work, single-minded determination and bravery popping up out of nowhere to

push him forward. With Hyunjin off the floor, Minho’s famous temper comes out. Jeongin’s
heard of it but he’s never seen it until now. With customers filling the floor and the kitchen
staff only working on three, Minho takes over the floor when Jisung needs a hand and he
keeps barking orders at the kitchen.
Felix works without complaint, he looks more or less used to Minho’s temper but Seungmin
can’t help but grumble every time Minho sticks his head in the kitchen to ask why they’re not
working fast enough.
After the fifth time, Seungmin turns around and throws a spatula at Minho. It narrowly
misses his head and hits the door instead.
“You wanna come in here and do this?!” Seungmin snaps at him, beyond irritated and
probably a little hangry. “Because I will do your job and I’ll do it without all the bitching and
moaning.”
Jeongin jumps, nerves standing on edge as he senses the fight brewing but Felix simply
reaches over and pats his arm. A silent command to keep working and don’t intervene. So he
does, he keeps his head down even when Minho picks up the spatula and throws it back - this
one hits Seungmin’s shoulder. He keeps his head down even when they begin fighting in
earnest and the only time he looks up is when Jisung finally comes into the kitchen, picks
Minho up and carries him out of there whilst completely ignoring the way Minho’s hissing
and spitting curses at Seungmin.
It reminds Jeongin vaguely of a fight between a cat and dog - if the cat and dog were totally
not trained to live with each other.
With them shorthanded, the day is long - longer for Jeongin who spends the entire day
thinking through what he’s going to do when no one’s looking. When at last the final
customer leaves and they clean up, the staff begin leaving one by one. Changbin turns up at
the back door for Felix - apparently it’s still not safe for Felix to go anywhere alone. Jisung
takes Minho home, making nauseating promises of hot baths, petals and a fuckton of lube.
Seungmin just looks tired as he waves goodbye and leaves after them.
Then, finally alone, Jeongin puts the last dish away and slowly turns around to set his eyes on
the massive freezer door.
The fact that there is no video surveillance in the kitchen is a small blessing. He has to be
quick, he doesn’t know when or if anyone will come but he needs something. Anything.
He pushes himself off the bench and walks across the kitchen. The door is as heavy as ever as
he hauls it open and stands before the cold air that wafts out at him. The inside is lit, blue
light casting long shadows past the shelves of meat that line the room.
Jeongin takes a crate of meat and puts it on the floor, wedged against the door as a makeshift
doorstop. He kicks it a few times to make sure it’s not going anywhere and when he’s sure
he’s not going to be locked in here to freeze, he slowly steps inside.
Usually in the morning, they don’t go that far into this freezer. Most of the meats they’ll ever
need are usually in the first few shelves closest to the door. Jeongin never questioned who
drags the meat closer, it’s always within arms distance of the door even though there are other
shelves much deeper in the room.
There’s a persistent hum coursing through the walls. The lights or perhaps the freezer itself.
Jeongin checks over the meat packages but all of them have that same label. RACHA. He’d
done a search earlier on his phone and an even more thorough one at home on his computer.
Racha didn’t bring up any meat packing companies. It didn’t bring up anything relevant
actually, which told Jeongin two things.
1. Racha was a bullshit company name for a company that didn’t exist.
2. (More unlikely) the company simply didn’t have a website.
He leaves the meat alone and looks around. The inside of the freezer is a lot larger than he’d
originally thought. The shelves and trays are spread out all over the place but the room itself
is easily half the size of the kitchen. Perhaps the size of his bedroom.
But all he sees are shelves, tray towers, meat placed on each shelf. Shrink-wrapped with the
same label slapped on top. He’s almost disappointed until he looks down and recognises the
latch of a handle.
A trapdoor? Is that what that’s called? Jeongin can feel the chill of the air as he heads over
and leans down to pull the door open.
It’s heavy, the latch is freezing but it gives way to show a ladder leading down, down, down
into pitch black darkness. Jeongin swears under his breath as he flicks on the flashlight on his
phone to cast a light down.
There’s a floor, somewhere far below. He can see the tiles glinting up at him and he suddenly
feels apprehension. He can hear his heartbeat thudding relentlessly in his ears as fear, real
fear, takes over him.
For the first time since he’s gotten here, this is something. An actual clue. It’s not normal for
any restaurant to have a secret trapdoor in their freezer, especially one like this. He knows.
Yet in the face of something any decent policeman would fall over themselves for, he finds
himself hesitant. Fearful. All the things his father would slap him for.
He takes a deep breath - something they used to tell him to do back at the academy - and
steels himself. Somehow the first step is a lot colder than the freezer itself. A chill rushes up
his spine as he descends, hands shaking with each rung he grasps.
When his feet hit the tiled floor, he shines the flashlight on his phone into the darkness. The
light finds a switch on the wall and when he flicks it on, the room lights so suddenly he has to
blink to adjust his sight.
When at last, he opens his eyes, all he sees are bodies. Lines and lines of bodies hanging
from meathooks attached to the ceiling. They’re naked, hanging like butchered pigs with the
hooks pierced through their ankles. There’s a faint scent in the air, masked mostly by the chill
of the freezer. These bodies are frozen, their heads removed, their arms bound to their backs.
Jeongin’s stomach lurches, he stares in horror at the lines and lines of bodies. At least twenty
that he can see and many more way in the back. Then in a clearing in the middle of the room
is a single wooden chair.
Jeongin inches closer, he doesn’t want to come anywhere near those bodies and in fact, this is
more than enough evidence to catch the attention of the police.
But what then? A voice in his mind questions. How far does Chan’s reach go? Can he really
sweep evidence like this under the rug?
A closer inspection of the chair reveals blood stains in the wood. There’s a drain underneath
the chair, clogged and stained with dark red and it doesn’t take a genius to deduce what this
chair is used for.
Jeongin’s stomach lurches again, he pulls his phone out and starts taking pictures. The shutter
noise on his phone echoes far too loudly as he takes incriminating photos of headless bodies,
of the hooks hanging from the ceiling, of the chair.
That’s when he hears it. Just as he takes the last picture he hears a distant noise up above. A
door, footsteps - Chan.
“Fucks sake Binnie, did you leave the door open again?!”
Jeongin almost drops his phone. His blood freezes, he can hear his heartbeat thudding madly
in his ears. Frantic, he looks around and spots racks of shelves lined against the wall. Just like
the freezer above. The shelves are lined with what he now understands is human meat.
Packaged and ready with the RACHA sticker plastered to its side.
There’s nowhere else to hide, Jeongin rushes for the shelves as he hears steps descending the
ladder. The tiles are freezing but he barely feels it over his own fear as he crawls down as low
as he can get and wriggles himself underneath the lowest shelf.
He tucks in his hands and feet just as he hears the sound of boots hitting the tiles. Jeongin
holds his breath and watches. One, two….three pairs of boots.
“I didn’t leave the light on,” says a voice. Changbin.
“Well who the fuck did?” Chan’s voice sounds, annoyed as he looks around the room. “You
mentioned you got stoned last night, this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve left the lights on.”
Changbin groans. “Well fuck, maybe I did, I don’t know.”
Jeongin stares at the boots. Chan and Changbin, who’s the third person who can walk into a
room like this without vomiting?
“Bring him in,” Chan commands and the third pair of boots leaves for a moment.
When he comes back, he drags something in with him. Jeongin’s stomach clenches as he
recognises a body, a bloody hand trailing along the tiles, leaving a trail in its wake. It’s
brought to the chair and, once seated, is bound tightly to it.
Changbin makes a noise, a huff of disapproval and kicks the leg of the chair. “What’s this
pigfucker’s name?”
“Does it matter?” Chan sniffs. “Stupid prick spoke out against my father, did he really think
himself untouchable?”
“Perhaps he did,” Changbin notes and Jeongin cranes his head slightly.
Who is the third person? Who’s in the chair?
There’s a sickening sound, the sound of a blade against skin and Jeongin almost jumps back
when blood falls from the chair and splashes onto the tiles. It slides quickly into the drain but
some begins to slip and seep across the once shining tiles. Jeongin watches, horrified as the
blood slides towards where he hides under the shelves. It’s still warm when it hits his arm and
encompasses it agonizingly slowly.
He bites his finger to hold in a whimper and watches, terrified as the boots move around the
tiles.
“Fuck Han, little warning next time,” Changbin complains and Jeongin’s attention turns to
the third pair. So it’s Chan, Changbin and Jisung.
“Hey, what happened with Hyunjin?” Jisung asks as Changbin grabs the body to move it to
one of the steel tables. “Did you sort it out with him?”
“Yeah, and you fuckers shouldn’t have left him alone,” Chan grumbles.
“We thought he wasn’t gonna...he was fucking Innie in the backseat,” Changbin explains
quickly. “We didn’t think he was gonna do anything that night.”
Chan sighs. “You two are idiots. He drove all the way out of Busan, parked near where the
guy lives and fucked Innie because he knew you two were watching and you did exactly what
he was banking on - you left him alone.”
“...sorry Chan.”
Jeongin can feel the blood cooling against his skin. He closes his eyes for only a moment and
tries to calm himself but he’s shaking so hard. His heartbeat is thundering so loudly it’s a
wonder no one else can hear it.
“Hyunjin needs to be kept under control,” Chan says. “We’re too close. My father is making
political moves and we can’t afford another fuckup. Our job - our only job - is to eliminate all
his enemies either by coercion, money, murder, I don’t give a fuck.”
“Well then why do we have Hyunjin in the first place?” Jisung speaks up. Jeongin can hear a
ripping noise but he can’t see what’s happening. It sounds like someone ripping leather to
pieces.
“Because he’s effective, he’s cold and he already knows too much,” Chan explains. “And I
can’t afford to get rid of anyone right now. The last thing my father needs is attention on
these restaurants. We continue doing as we’re doing and find a way to keep Hyunjin under
control. It’s not impossible.”
“What about Innie?”
Jeongin almost whimpers.

“What about him?”
“Well Hyunjin did fuck him....”
“Not yet, I’m still not sure about him,” Chan says and Jeongin’s stomach is wrapping itself in
knots. He’s legitimately afraid he’s about to be sick all over the floor and reveal his hiding
spot.
“Binnie, I’ll finish wrapping him up,” Chan finally says after a moment. “Go back to mine
and look after Felix. I left him with Minho and I don’t trust that guy not to dress Fe in cat-
ears before I return.”
“Felix with cat ears…” Changbin mutters quietly, as though intrigued by the idea.
“Come on,” Jisung pulls him out and Jeongin watches two of the boots leaving the room.
He listens to them climbing up the ladder and when their steps fade in the distance, the
ripping sound starts again. Chan’s boots stay where they are and Jeongin now understands
what he’s doing. He’s wrapping the body, he’s probably going to hang it up like all the others
and he feels another lurch in his stomach at the thought.
When the ripping noise stops, Chan’s boots click as he pulls away from the table and heads
towards the shelves where Jeongin hides. Jeongin holds his breath when Chan’s boot comes
too close to his face. Something in the shelves above tinkles and Jeongin squeezes his eyes
shut.
Then Chan turns around and heads back to the table. He puts something down and just as
Jeongin starts to breathe again, Chan’s voice pierces the otherwise silent room.
“Get out from under there before I make you, Innie.”
His blood freezes, Jeongin’s eyes widen and he watches the boots coming back to him. How
did he know? How did he know?! He wants to move but he can’t. He can only watch in
helpless, petrified terror as Chan leans down, his hand appears and grabs Jeongin by the arm.
It’s as though Jeongin weighs nothing. The strength with which Chan pulls him out, picks
him up and dumps him on the chair in the middle of the room is astonishing.
It takes a moment for Jeongin’s mind to catch up and by the time he realises he’s in the chair
where a man was just killed, Chan is already wrapping the second rope around his right wrist.
Oh god. He’s going to die right here. He’s going to be killed and wrapped up just like all the
other bodies. His lungs kick into action, his arms and legs begin to shake helplessly against
the restraints and he starts to scream. Terrified, nonsensical, as loud as he can. Chan flinches
and finishes binding his hands and feet to the chair before reaching back and promptly
sticking a rolled up piece of cloth into his mouth.
“Shut up,” Chan snarls.
Jeongin is crying, his screams are muffled and even more so when Chan grabs the duct tape
from the shelves and wraps it over his mouth and the cloth.
He’s going to die.
He’s going to die.
It’s all that runs through his head. His view is just narrow, tunnel-vision fear and all he can
see is Chan and the instruments displayed on the table with the wrapped body. Will he be
quick? Will he feel any pain or is Chan pissed off enough to make this hurt? He doesn’t want
to die and he’d say so if he weren’t gagged. So all he can do is cry.
His sight blurs, he sees Chan’s figure pick something up from the table but he’s crying too
hard to see what it is. He tries to move but he’s bound and when he feels something cold and
sharp against his neck, he gasps. This is it.
His eyes open and his vision clears. Chan is standing in front of him, holding a knife to his
throat. He can feel the sharp, serrated edge grazing his skin lightly. One move and he’ll bleed
out all over the floor.
He doesn’t dare breathe.
“Here’s what’s going to happen now,” Chan speaks, voice eerily calm and eyes devoid of
emotion. “I’m going to give you two options. One ends with you alive and the other, dead.
Following me?”
Jeongin can’t nod but his continued staring seems to be enough for Chan.
His mind is racing. Just how much does Chan know? Does he know who he really is? Who
his father is? Does he know that Hyunjin knows?
“Option one,” Chan continues and Jeongin feels a strange sense of deja-vu. He’s certain he’s
been in this position with Hyunjin. “You work for me. You do everything I tell you to do and
you do it in secret. I’ll monitor your every move and if you take one step out of line, I’ll give
you a slow and painful death.”
Jeongin blinks.
“Option two, refuse and you’ll end up on tomorrow’s menu.”
Jeongin suddenly feels very, very sick. A sudden flashback hits his head like lightning. The
meal he’d been prepared the day he’d been interviewed. The meal he’d been asked to
identify. What was it he’d said it was? Veal?
That wasn’t veal. He’d eaten a human. His stomach twists and he must look sick because
Chan’s eyes grow wide. The blade is removed and Chan reaches forward to rip the duct tape
off Jeongin’s face just in time for Jeongin to lean forward and vomit all over the floor.
Chan’s chair skitters back as he jumps up onto his feet. Dodging just in time with a muttered
curse.
Jeongin leans forward and groans. Only one round comes out but god he feels so sick. His
head spins harder and he can’t see straight anymore. His head is pounding and his stomach is
still twisting so hard the pain shoots right through his nerves.
“Fucks sake,” he hears Chan mutter. There’s a clang of metal as he drops the knife back on
the table and a pause as he looks over the state of Jeongin again.
“You know what? I’ll give you the night to think it through,” Chan finally decides. “Work for
me or die. Painfully simple choice but you have the whole night to think about it.”
No, Jeongin wants to plead. Don’t leave me here. Don’t leave me here!
He can’t say anything, he can’t make a sound above a pathetic whimper and when he lifts his
head to look, Chan is already at the ladder. He flicks the light off and the room is doused in
pitch black. Jeongin whimpers, he can hear Chan climbing the ladder and he wants to scream,
he wants to plead but there’s a lump in his throat.
Chan leaves. The trapdoor closes after him and all that’s left is the sound of Jeongin’s
breathing and the scent of death and vomit.
Then and only then does he find the energy to scream.
Jeongin isn’t sure how long he’s there. Surely one cannot survive an entire night in a walk-in
freezer but he’s sure he’s sitting there in the pitch black cold for hours.
When he finally hears the trapdoor opening again, he’s half out of his mind with lethargy and
he’s long since lost feeling in his arms and legs. He should open his eyes, he should see who
it is but his head won’t move where it’s hanging. If he weren’t tied to the chair, he’d have
collapsed a long time ago.
Hurried steps. Someone’s climbing down the ladder fast. Jeongin isn’t thinking clearly
enough, everything’s slow.
Then someone’s in front of him. Warm hands touching his wrists, pulling at the restraints
until he falls forward into a warm chest. Arms wrap around him and Jeongin can only
mumble weakly as he’s picked up and hauled over someone’s shoulder. He can’t see who, he
loses consciousness before the person carries him to the ladder.
When he wakes again, he’s in a room he’s never been in before. Warmth, slow, gentle warmth
is coursing through his veins and it takes him a little longer than usual to think. He would
panic if he weren’t so lethargic.
He’s so warm. There’s something heavy on him and when he slowly lifts his head, he can see
an arm wrapped around his chest. A leg tucked between his own, feet pressed against his and
covered by two thick blankets. When he turns his head to the side, he recognises the pretty
features of Hyunjin, fast asleep and pressed tightly to his side with both arms and legs
wrapped around Jeongin’s body.
It’s Hyunjin’s bedroom.
He has pink curtains and posters of bands like Chase Atlantic and Linkin Park stuck to the
wall with silver pins. There’s a desk right next to the bed with stacks of books and an open
laptop with a technicolour save screen. There’s a rug on the floor in the shape of a large green
leaf and vague carvings on the door.
In the morning light, the pink curtains bathe the room in a warm glow of gold and pink and
it’s not the first time Jeongin’s seen Hyunjin sleeping but he’s still not used to the sight. How
beautiful this man can look when he’s not conscious and murderous.
Was it him who carried him out of the freezer? How did he know he was down there? Does
he know what Chan said? What will Chan do if Hyunjin took him without his permission?
All these questions flick through Jeongin’s mind but flit away into nothingness the longer he
gazes at Hyunjin’s face. For a blindingly perfect moment, Jeongin can’t feel the fear that
numbed him all night. He can’t remember that he must have spent half a night with
decapitated bodies, all he can focus on here and now is Hyunjin.
Just in this moment, Jeongin feels warmth and safety like he’s never felt before. He slowly
turns onto his side and Hyunjin makes a sleepy noise but doesn’t wake as Jeongin’s arms
slide around him until they’re lying chest to chest. Jeongin’s forehead presses gently against
Hyunjin’s and he can feel their breaths mingling.
His heart is thundering in his chest but not out of fear. Out of something he can’t name.
Doesn’t want to name.
Then Jeongin falls asleep like that and the moment is gone.
When he next wakes up, it’s much later in the day. The glow of the sunset lights the room and
as he pushes himself up to sit, he spots Hyunjin sitting at the end of the bed, watching him.
Words escape Jeongin but they don’t escape Hyunjin.
“Innie,” Hyunjin says, his tone soft as ever and it would be comforting were it not for the
dark look in his eyes. He’s pissed but Jeongin can’t tell who he’s pissed at yet. “Are you
alright?”
Jeongin looks down. His hands don’t have any lasting marks, neither do his legs. No
frostbite, how long was he in that freezer? He doesn’t feel sick but there’s apprehension in the
back of his mind. Fear of the unknown, too many questions unanswered. He suddenly feels
like he’s been in the dark about everything since this entire stupid mission began and for
what? Now it’s not a suspicion, he KNOWS Chan is behind the disappearances. He knows
what’s happening to the missing people. He has proof on his-
He pales and glances at his phone where it’s sitting on the desk.
“Don’t bother,” Hyunjin says before he can mention anything. “I deleted the photos.”
All the air leaves Jeongin’s lungs and he turns his gaze slowly to Hyunjin.
“What about Chan?” He dares to ask.
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow and Jeongin’s throat runs dry.
“He told me you were in the freezer,” Hyunjin finally says after a moment. “And now you
know. You’re not dumb, Innie. You know what that means.”
Jeongin nods, numb. It would be different if he’d taken the photos and been able to escape
but now that Chan is painfully aware that he knows about this, the amount of danger he’s in
is mind boggling. He doesn’t even know if he’s going to make it to tomorrow.
“Are you going to kill me?”
“Why would I bother warming you up if I’m killing you later?” Hyunjin snorts. “And I just
said you’re not dumb, I take it back.”
Jeongin somehow feels the incredible urge to shrink in on himself. He resists and keeps his
gaze on Hyunjin.
“Then what’s going to happen to me?” he asks. “I can’t stand not knowing. Chan said he’d
kill me-”
“Chan gave you a choice,” Hyunjin corrects him. “And right now, Chan’s a little busy with
his brat of a fiance, Felix and his father to bother much with you. Hence why he told me what
you were up to.”
Now Jeongin really does shrink.
“Should have known you’d go poking around but now that you know, I can’t afford to let you
out of my sight again, Innie,” Hyunjin continues as though Jeongin isn’t suddenly finding it
hard to breathe. “This is bigger than you think it is. A couple of photos of headless bodies in
a freezer isn’t going to be enough to bury any of this. You’re biting off more than you can
chew, Innie.”
Without his consent, Jeongin starts to feel something wet sliding down his cheek. He’s
crying, his eyes widen in horror because he doesn’t want to cry in front of Hyunjin yet here
he is and he can’t stop it.
He hiccups and tries to block his lips but they keep coming and his lungs are tightening with
fear and he can’t help but think of a rat caught in a trap and if the poor thing doesn’t die
immediately, it must die slowly. Unable to move, broken bones, trapped. Like him.
Hyunjin leans in. “Innie, Chan doesn’t know who your father is and we’re going to keep it
that way.”
His thumb, warm and gentle, wipes a tear off Jeongin’s cheek and Jeongin looks up to see
Hyunjin sliding closer to him. For such an unpredictably dangerous man, Hyunjin’s hands
shouldn’t be so soft and gentle but they are. They cup Jeongin’s face and spread warmth
where they shouldn’t.
Jeongin can’t help but lean into his hold, eyes fluttering a little.
Then Hyunjin’s voice comes out barely a whisper. “It’ll be our secret.”
His thumb slides gently over Jeongin’s bottom lip and Jeongin parts them automatically. If
his eyes were open, he’d have seen the way Hyunjin’s own eyes dilated. He’d have seen an
emotion that even someone as controlled as Hyunjin couldn’t hide.
But his eyes are closed and he misses it but he doesn’t miss the choked sound Hyunjin makes
when his tongue slides out to touch Hyunjin’s thumb.
“Stay with me,” Hyunjin whispers.
That’s when Jeongin’s mind and the last scraps of his sanity shut down. He’s so tired of this.
Tired of the mind numbing fear of being with these people, tired of fearing for his life every
single day. There’s no point. Hyunjin knows who he is, Chan knows that he knows the truth
about the restaurant and in the midst of all of this Jeongin wants one moment of peace.
Just one moment where he’s not feeling terrified or sick to his stomach.
“Jeongin,” Hyunjin says, voice quiet but firm. “I need an answer.”
Jeongin doesn’t answer. Instead his hands reach up, find Hyunjin’s shirt and pull him forward
for a kiss. That’s answer enough.
Chapter End Notes
Sooo sorry it took me so long to update this! I can cite personal issues but the truth is
that writing is my ultimate escape but has become incredibly difficult for a year now
(ever since the pandemic started and everything changed)
However, we power through and stay safe because for now that's all we can do.
In the meantime I give you this chapter, I am not entirely satisfied with this chapter but
if someone leaves me long enough to obsess and pick over a chapter, it'll never be
updated. Hopefully it doesn't take me that long to pull the next chapter out of my head,
don't wanna keep you waiting long.
As always, thank you so much for all your comments! They helped me power through
this chapter and onto more important plot points ;)
VIII: Scientia Ipsa Potential Est
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
Closing the trapdoor after himself, Chan makes sure to pull the lock tight.
He’s seething. He doesn’t know why Jeongin was in there and there’s a large part of him that
doesn’t even care. After the last guy turned out to be an undercover cop, Chan’s patience with
newbies in his restaurant dwindled down to near non-existent.
Some facet of his logical mind knows that Jeongin can’t possibly be the same. For one thing,
he’s too young and for another, he’s just too dumb. No undercover cop, no one who’s even
watched a smidgeon of horror movies would climb under there only to get themselves
caught.
So the likelihood is that he was down there out of blind curiosity. Dumb curiosity because
even the most curious person should be thrown off a cellar leading into pitch black darkness.
Still, despite his offer he has half a mind to just leave Jeongin down there. He won’t last a
night, he’ll freeze and that will be one problem taken care of.
He heads to his office and sits down at the computer to get some work done. It’s around 3 in
the morning when the door knocks and Hyunjin walks in.
By now, Jeongin’s been in that freezer for four hours.
Hyunjin walks in looking appropriately guilty. Whether he actually feels guilt or not, is
another issue altogether. Chan is well aware of the fact that Hyunjin is incapable of feeling
certain things but after spending a whole day being grilled about killing someone he wasn’t
meant to kill, Hyunjin is smart enough not to show anything but guilt at this point.
He’s another issue. He’s difficult to control and whilst Chan is aware he needs him on his
side, he does know that Hyunjin’s loyalty and obedience is the hardest to obtain. Of all his
staff, Hyunjin is the most effective but also the most dangerous one. One wrong move, one
word, one reason not to follow Chan and Hyunjin will turn his back on him.
At that point, all Chan can hope for is that they’d survive him leaving them in (hopefully) one
piece.
Jisung and Changbin have both brought it up at different points. Why not just let him go?
Why not let him leave, it might be the less violent way to go but Chan can’t bring himself to
do it. His reasons for keeping Hyunjin close are reasons only Felix knows.
“Restaurant is locked up and clean,” Hyunjin says. He even sounds guilty and Chan fights to
keep a smile back - the boy is certainly good at studying emotion and using it when he needs
to.
It hits him then, like a bolt of lightning. He has one thing that may be used to keep Hyunjin in
line. Just one thing. It’s precarious, it’s unpredictable and Chan isn’t even sure he can use it
properly but he has to do something. If Hyunjin is really as attached to Jeongin as Chan
suspects he is, there may be something there to use as leverage.
“We have a problem,” he says, keeping his voice casual. Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at him
and Chan continues. “Innie’s locked in the basement.”
Fear. Widened eyes. That’s not fake and practiced, it’s real and it’s then that Chan knows he
has something. Something precious that he can use to keep Hyunjin in line.
“What?!”
“Curious boy must have crawled in after the restaurant closed,” Chan continues, keeping his
tone level. “Naturally I can’t let it slide, not after the last one-”
“Innie isn’t an undercover cop!” Hyunjin bites and Chan can feel his heartbeat quickening
with excitement. It’s the first time he’s ever had leverage over Hyunjin and it’s a surprisingly
empowering moment.
You have a weakness, he thinks. One I can use.
He continues up the facade of cold and annoyed. “You know I can’t take that chance.”
“Is he alive?!” Hyunjin asks, his voice almost breaks with panic. “Where is he?!”
“He’s tied to a chair,” Chan informs him. “I gave him a choice, keep his mouth shut or die
right there - poor baby threw up before he could give me an answer so I decided to just leave
him in there.”
Hyunjin, for all his psychopathic traits, cannot hide the look in his eyes. Half rage, half
petrified fear. Chan can’t help but wonder when his feelings for Jeongin began. Whatever
they are, they’ll manifest into something truly toxic. Hyunjin isn’t capable of healthy
relationships, there’s no happy ending here for either of them. Chan already knows.
For that reason alone, Jeongin might be better off dead.
Hyunjin places his hands on the desk and leans in. “Chan, Innie is not an undercover cop.
He’s on our side, we have to get him out of there!”
Chan holds his gaze for a few minutes, studying the plethora of unrestrained emotion in
Hyunjin’s eyes. It’s a very rare moment. Rare and fascinating because up until now, Hyunjin
has never shown attachment to anyone or anything before. He was always incapable of it.
Right up until Jeongin with his gummy smile, sparkling eyes and unintentionally adorable
demeanour walked in through that door.
“Alright,” he finally concedes. “Go get him, warm him up. He’s been in there four hours so
I’m sure you already know he can’t be heated quickly.”
“I’m not an idiot,” Hyunjin mutters, already halfway to the door.
“Hyunjin!”
Hyunjin pauses at the door, the look in his eyes is cold and almost murderous and that, Chan
now knows, is his veil. His curtain protecting him from the outside world.
Got your number now, Hyunjin.
“When he recovers, bring him back to me and prove he’s on our side,” Chan demands. “If
he’s not, you know what we’ll have to do.”
Hyunjin leaves in a rush and Chan stares after the door a little longer before reaching for his
phone and calling a familiar number. He leans back in his seat and waits until he hears a
sleepy and confused answer.
“Binnie, bring Fe to work tomorrow morning,” he says, voice quiet and gentle out of
consideration for his sleepy friend. “And tell Han I need him in my office with you two. We
need to have a meeting.”
Changbin’s voice is soft and sleepy. “‘Bout what?”
“Innie knows.”
Jeongin sits in the middle of the bed, watching Hyunjin’s face as he’s on the phone.
Every now and then, he paces around the room, humming to whatever Chan is saying,
offering his brief opinion before letting the other talk again. It’s about him, he knows, he’s
anxious and if he didn’t trust that Hyunjin wouldn’t just grab a knife and kill him on Chan’s
immediate order, he’d have tried jumping out of the window already.
“I get to be there,” Hyunjin says, his tone unwavering.
Jeongin’s hand clenches on the blanket underneath him, his breath hitching as he listens to
Hyunjin finish the call with a small affirmative grunt. His heart is thundering in his ears
again, anxiety crawling up his back as he watches Hyunjin end the call, put his phone away
and come back to sit on the end of the bed.
“You have a test. You pass it and Chan will trust you. If you don’t…”
He doesn’t need to finish. Jeongin looks down at his lap and tries to swallow but there’s a
lump in his throat again. Anxiety. He’s so sick of feeling terrified all the time. So sick of
waking up every single morning wondering if this will be the day he dies. It’s exhausting
being this scared.
“What do I have to do?”
Hyunjin doesn’t answer. He simply reaches for his pocket and pulls out his switchblade. With
a flick, the sharp blade snaps out and he holds it out. Jeongin leans forward, he takes the
blade in his hand and it’s heavier than he expected.
Hyunjin then turns around, lies down until his head is on Jeongin’s lap. With one hand, he
reaches up, takes the hand holding the knife and brings it down until the blade is kissing the
skin of his throat.
Jeongin gasps and pulls the knife away immediately.
“I can’t.”
“You have to,” Hyunjin tells him. He doesn’t move where he’s lying, in fact he makes
himself comfortable with his head on Jeongin’s lap and looks up at him impassively. “Now’s
the time to decide, Innie. This time you get a choice. You were sent here by your father to go
undercover and right now, that’s up in smoke so make your choice. Kill or be killed.”
Somewhere in the depths of his mental health, Jeongin can feel a noose slowly slipping over
his head, tightening over his throat. It’s hard to breathe, hard to cohesively process anything
but the blinding fear he feels.
He’s so sick of it.
The closer the restaurant looms in the distance, the faster Jeongin’s heart begins to thud in his
ears. Hyunjin drives ahead and although the radio is playing quietly, neither are listening.
Anxiety crawls up Jeongin’s spine and all he can see is the sea of bodies around him, the
freezing air and the four hour terror he’d felt being tied up in that chair.
He hasn’t gone home in three days now. He’d spent that entire time in Hyunjin’s room and
the other had been surprisingly catering. Ordered in food when Jeongin got hungry, showed
him around his tiny apartment (it really was tiny) and let him live there as if it were his own
home.
Now they have to go back to the restaurant and he’s freaking out so much that he doesn’t
notice Hyunjin has actually stopped until the other touches his arm.
Jeongin looks up. The restaurant is too close, his breathing starts to quicken and Hyunjin’s
warm hand holding his wrist grounds him.
“Hey, Innie,” Hyunjin calls, his other hand gently taking Jeongin’s chin to turn his head
towards himself. “Look at me, Innie.”
Jeongin’s gaze focuses on Hyunjin’s pretty face. The open concern in his eyes, the glint of his
blonde hair tied back into a ponytail and the slight part of his pretty lips. He squeezes his
hand and Jeongin focuses on him.
“When you’re in there, if you feel anxious, just look at me. Understand?”
Jeongin wants to go home. He wants to cry and hide but neither of them have a choice, they
have to be here. They have this one chance to convince Chan that Jeongin isn’t who he fears
he is. That Jeongin is on their side and it’s the only way Jeongin is going to survive the day. If
Chan thinks for a second that Jeongin has any connection to the police in Seoul, not even
Hyunjin will be able to save him.
His voice comes out cracked and weak, there’s a lump in his throat as though he’s about to
cry. “Don’t leave me alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Hyunjin promises. “Until Chan swears you’re safe, I
won’t leave. Okay?”
Jeongin has to steel himself. It’s through numb strength that he’s even able to open the car
door and follow Hyunjin towards the restaurant. Hyunjin reaches back for his hand and leads
him to the back door and into the kitchen area.
There, they’re standing around the steel bench in the middle of the kitchen. Chan, Jisung,
Changbin and Felix.
Hyunjin steps in first and brings Jeongin with him and although Jeongin wants to hide behind
him, he somehow manages to stand beside him instead. But he can’t let go of his hand, even
when Felix pointedly looks at their joined hands for a moment before turning his pretty eyes
back to Jeongin.
“Okay,” Chan begins right away. “Innie, I think I speak for us all when I say the first thing
we want to know is why you were down in that freezer to begin with.”
They’re all staring, Jeongin wants to shrink until he feels Hyunjin squeeze his hand.
Somehow, he finds his voice.
“I was curious.”
It’s Felix who smiles. “Well that I can’t blame you for. Trapdoor in the middle of the walk-in
freezer, yeah I’d be curious too. I was curious.”
Chan and Changbin look at him and Felix shrugs. “What? It’s like the set up of a really bad
horror movie. I’ve always wondered why you put a trapdoor there - especially one that
wasn’t that hard to find. Innie finding it was a matter of when, not if.”
“He’s got a point,” Changbin agrees quietly.
Chan looks a little flustered. ‘Okay, we’re not talking about the placement of the trapdoor,
we’re talking about the fact that Innie now knows there’s a bunch of bodies down there and
he almost became one himself. Seriously, if I didn’t know you were down there, I’d have
locked up after myself and you would have frozen down there.”
Hyunjin’s expression darkens for a moment before it returns to its normal cold neutralness.
“Still, he answered the question,” Felix pushes. “Curiosity. Like I said, it was a matter of
when, not if. He was always going to find that trapdoor sooner or later - especially since we
left lockup duty to him a lot.”
“I’ll accept that as a valid reason,” Chan relents. “But now Innie knows and with that comes
certain...responsibilities.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Jeongin blurts right away.
Jisung looks almost amused. “It’s not just a matter of you telling anyone, it’s a matter of you
knowing where those bodies came from, what we do to them and why. It’s not enough that
you simply know. Being in on the secret means you now have to participate in the reason
why it’s happening in the first place.”
Jeongin feels a familiar lurch in his stomach when he remembers the way in which Jisung
had so quickly killed that man in the chair. No hesitation, no emotion, just cold and precise.
How many people had he killed before?
“And after the last guy, I’m not entirely convinced you didn’t have another motive for being
down there,” Chan frowns. “I’ll accept curiosity, sure. But anyone with half a brain knows
not to climb into a pitch black cellar in the middle of a walk-in freezer. You either had
another motive for looking down there or you have absolutely no survival instincts.”
Jeongin looks down and he can hear Changbin sighing.
“We’re opening the restaurant in an hour,” he says. “And Innie, we’re not entirely sure you’re
on our side yet. After last time, we’re a little paranoid and no offense but we don’t know you
well enough yet.”
Jeongin can only see the bodies, hooks through their ankles, decapitated heads, wrapped up
for consumption. Another lurch in his stomach.
“He’s on our side,” Hyunjin promises for him.
“Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it at face value,” Jisung shoots back. “But you can
come with him if you need to.”
Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate. “I need to.”

“Fine,” Chan cuts in and nods to the freezer. “Let’s do this, then.”
Jeongin’s heartbeat is thudding in his ears again. His legs are numb and his grip on Hyunjin’s
hand is so tight as he follows him back to the freezer. Changbin opens the door and pushes it
aside, the others follow him in but the second Jeongin takes one step inside, he feels the ice
cold air against his skin and gasps.
Hyunjin looks back just in time to see Jeongin’s legs collapse underneath him. He falls in a
crumpled heap at the door frame and gasps for air. His hand lets go of Hyunjin and his vision
blurs. All he can feel is his limbs shaking, he can’t even hear the others calling his name. He
can’t feel it when Hyunjin grabs his shoulders and he can’t respond. All he can feel is the
cold air and the pitch black darkness he’d been left in with all those bodies.
Vaguely, he can hear Felix’s voice mentioning something about a panic attack and that’s
when someone picks him up. Jeongin can’t fight, he can’t move but when he’s carried away
from the cold air, his vision clears for a moment and he can see it’s Hyunjin carrying him. His
arms automatically wrap around Hyunjin’s shoulders and he clings.
“He’s not ready,” he can hear Hyunjin saying, his voice firm as though he’s arguing. “You left
him in there for fucking four hours with the bodies, of course he’s having a fucking panic
attack!”
Jeongin can’t see the others. He can’t hear them. He can only hear Hyunjin and he can’t help
but cling as hard as he can. As though the moment Hyunjin lets him go will be the moment
he truly loses his mind.
He’s set down on the bench. Jeongin’s entire body is shivering and he’s barely able to keep
himself up but his eyes focus on Hyunjin in front of him. Both hands on his shoulders,
grounding him. Next to him, Felix is watching Jeongin and it’s surprising to see concern in
his eyes too.
“Innie, breathe,” Felix’s deep voice advises. “Deep breaths, follow my example.”
Jeongin shifts his focus to him. He looks down at his chest and Felix is deliberately breathing
slow and deep, moving his chest up and down. Jeongin hiccups and forces himself to do the
same. Breathe in, breathe out. Slow and deep. Slowly but surely, it starts to work as he feels
his nerves calming down.
Hyunjin still won’t let go of him.
Jeongin can vaguely hear someone shouting and it takes him a moment to realise it’s
Hyunjin. He’s arguing with someone standing behind him and Jeongin doesn’t have the
energy to turn around and look. Nor does he have the energy to listen to the argument, he can
only guess it’s about him.
“Innie, look at me,” Felix says and again, Jeongin looks at him.
“Breathe.”
The simplest command and yet it takes considerable effort to follow. Jeongin keeps following
Felix, following his breathing until he can feel the warmth in the kitchen. The sound of the
others arguing more clearly and the light filtering in through the kitchen windows.
Jisung closed the freezer door.
“Here’s how I see it,” Changbin is saying somewhere behind him. “Innie is in no state to do
anything about this, one step in the freezer and he’s a wreck. Right now, we don’t have to
worry about him saying anything to anyone.”
“He’s not like the last guy, he’s not an undercover cop,” Hyunjin points out fiercely. “He’s a
guy who hasn’t seen a dead body up until two days ago. I know you’re paranoid, Chan, but
Innie isn’t a problem.”
“Innie is sitting on the kitchen bench and hyperventilating because he isn’t a problem,”
Chan’s voice argues back. “Yeah, even if he isn’t a fucking snitch, we still have a big
problem on our hands.”
“Well fuck,” Hyunjin hisses, genuinely pissed off. “If this is about convincing you then we’re
going to be here forever!”
It’s then that Jeongin feels Hyunjin’s hands leave his shoulders as Felix takes him instead.
Felix turns Jeongin towards himself and places his hands on Jeongin’s shoulders instead. He
looks into his eyes and Jeongin is too mentally drained to hide anything. If Felix can read just
from his eyes that he’s the son of the police chief and that he was sent here to gather intel,
then just kill him now.
Felix stares right into his eyes for a couple of moments. When he pulls back, he looks over
Jeongin’s shoulder to Chan.
“I don’t think we have to worry about him,” he finally says. “I mean I agree with you, I think
he does need to be in on the stuff we do but I don’t think he’s a snitch, Chan. The panic attack
was real. I think he’d have had it even if he wasn’t left in the freezer.”
A moment of silence and at last, at last, Chan’s voice breaks it.
“I still want insurance.”
“So do I,” Jisung agrees. “But we’re not gonna get it out of him today. Look at him.”
All of them do and if Jeongin had any energy left, he’d shrink under the heat of their
collective gaze. Instead what he manages to do is lower his head a little.
“My place,” Chan finally decides. “Tonight, after lockup.”
“Chan,” Hyunjin begins to argue but he’s cut off.

“You’re on thin ice as it is, Hyunjin but I need insurance,” Chan insists. “He has the day to
recover but I won’t let him be left alone.”
“He’s gonna be pretty useless in the kitchen today,” Felix decides with a small wince. “We’ll
be short on staff again.”
“I’ll work the kitchen,” Changbin volunteers. “Innie can stay here until closing.”
Jeongin wants to shake his head. They’re going to stick him in the office and Chan will never
leave him alone. An entire day with Chan in his office, Jeongin would rather they shoved him
in the freezer again. He tries to look at Hyunjin but the other is staring at the ground as
though it’s done him some personal wrong. He’s just barely holding his tongue.
“Alright,” Chan finally sighs. “Alright. Open up the restaurant, guys. We’re doing this
tonight.”
When Jeongin first entered this office, he was nervous. But at least back then, he had no idea
just what he was getting into. Now he knows there are bodies in the freezer, he knows that the
restaurant patrons are eating human remains and he knows that Chan doesn’t think he’s
harmless anymore. Now, Chan is sitting on the other side of the desk, his eyes firmly on
Jeongin as the other tries not to squirm in his seat.
It’s only ten in the morning.
Chan eventually takes his eyes off Jeongin and looks down. He reaches down to one of his
drawers and Jeongin tenses - as though expecting to be shot right there and then. Instead,
Chan just opens the drawer, brings something out and holds it out to Jeongin.
A chocolate bar.
“I heard it helps panic attacks,” he says, deadpan.
Jeongin is so surprised that all he can really do is reach out and take it with a small thank
you.
It does help. The sweetness of the chocolate is somehow soothing on his tongue. Jeongin
nibbles and keeps his gaze down.
It’s unnerving being on thin ice around Chan. It’s different than Hyunjin. With Hyunjin,
Jeongin’s survival instincts die out and he instead takes pleasure in pissing the blonde off as
fast as he can. With Chan, for some reason, he wants to live and tiptoes around him - terrified
that Chan will actually kill him one of these days.
The difference between the two of them is wholly confusing.

Chan starts working and Jeongin really has nothing to do. He’s sitting there on one of the
chairs, slowly nibbling at a chocolate bar and Chan isn’t about to let him out of his sight.
Even for a bathroom break.
So he just sits. Listens to the sound of Chan typing away and makes his way very slowly
through the chocolate bar until it’s gone.
The silence is suffocating.
After about another hour of this, the door finally knocks and Jeongin looks up. He expects to
see Changbin or Jisung but when the door opens and a girl appears instead, his eyebrows
shoot up to his hairline. Chan freezes, his eyes darkening as he watches his bitch of a fiancee
walk in and close the door behind herself.
Kaeun glances at Jeongin and it’s only momentary but it’s long enough for Jeongin to shrink
in his seat. The girl has an amazing ability to look at someone as though they’re less than
nothing.
“Make him leave.”
“He stays,” Chan snaps. “What do you want?”
Kaeun huffs but she makes no move away from the door. Instead she folds her arms and
Jeongin looks her over. Chanel clothing, he’s pretty sure the bracelet glinting on her left wrist
has a price tag he’d cry at. She smells like strawberries and not a hair is out of place.
“You’ve clearly taken my threat seriously,” she continues, sounding awfully proud of herself.
“I sent some men to your boys’ apartment. But he wasn’t there, he was with you.”
“You hurt Felix, I don’t care who your father is,” Chan warns darkly. “I will have you
eviscerated.”
Jeongin twitches. He can just imagine what Chan would do to her.
“You can’t keep him from me forever,” Kaeun tells him. “And you can’t hold off this
engagement forever either. If my father starts to question your motives, your father will lose
his support.”
Chan’s left eye twitches and Jeongin has to take a moment to realize that this is pretty rare.
He’s seen Chan angry, sure. But Chan always does something about it. This time, he can’t.
Kaeun is the one holding the reins and it’s an interesting thing to see.
Not that Jeongin would fare much better in his position. Were he engaged to someone as
terrifying as that girl, he’d die before he ever reaches the church.
“Next week,” Chan finally says through gritted teeth. “Bring your family, I’ll bring mine.”
Kaeun’s nose crinkles at the thought. “I’m not bringing my father to this place.”
Jeongin wonders if she has any idea what the menu is made of. It wouldn’t surprise him if she
did know and simply didn’t care. One thing he’s come to learn since he came here is that rich
people are seriously fucked up.
“Here,” Chan continues as though she hadn’t interrupted him. “I’ll announce a date.”
Jeongin’s eyes widen and he stares in surprise but neither acknowledge him. There’s a small
smile on Kaeun’s face and Chan’s gaze is set on her. He’s serious.
“Kaeun,” Chan says. “If I do this, I’ll fund your lifestyle. You’ll live how you want, where
you want, fuck who you want, I don’t care. I’ll pay you for it.”
Kaeun hums. “And in return, I suppose you don’t want me to kill your little boyfriend?”
“In return, you’ll leave me and mine alone,” Chan tells her. “You’ll come to me only when I
ask you to. Your life will belong to me, not your father. Do you understand?”
Kaeun doesn’t seem phased by the threats and tilts her head. “And I live how I want?”
“However you want so long as you’re nowhere near me.”
“Deal.”
After she leaves, Chan’s mood turns sour immediately. Thankfully, he leaves Jeongin alone
and instead spends the better part of the morning and afternoon furiously typing on his
laptop.
When lunch rolls around, the door opens again and Felix appears this time with two plates.
He hands one to Chan first. Then he places one in front of Jeongin and Jeongin stares at it.
It’s meat with vegetables but given what he knows about the restaurant now, he feels his
stomach churning at the thought of who the meat is.
“Beef,” Felix assures him with a small grin. “We don’t actually eat the guys down in the
basement - that’s for the customers.”
With that, Felix leaves and Jeongin turns his eyes up to see Chan is already eating.
Jeongin’s stomach churns again. He doesn’t eat a thing.
It feels like the longest day in history when the restaurant finally closes. Chan looks a little
relieved as well when Changbin pokes his head in to say they’re locking up. Jeongin squirms
and tries not to think about where he’s going as he gets up and follows them both out of the
office and into the restaurant where everyone else is waiting.
The air is different the second Jeongin steps into the room. Seungmin and Minho in particular
are looking at him as though they’ve never met him when just a few days ago, they’d both
called him the baby of the restaurant.
“We’re doing this at my place,” Chan says and Jeongin glances at Hyunjin.
The blonde is standing beside Felix, arms folded, lips pursed. He meets Jeongin’s eyes but his
own are unreadable. He’s not going to stop this.
None of them say a word. When Chan finally lets him go, Hyunjin steps up to take him
instead. Jeongin can hear his blood rushing past his ears and he feels numb as he follows him
out to the car with the rest of them. There’s something heavy in the air, not one of them
speaks as they get into different cars and begin making their way out to Chan’s mansion.
In the car, the drive is suffocating, heavy and silent. Thoughts rush through Jeongin’s mind
but he can’t bring himself to say anything to Hyunjin. Can he even do this? He wants to live
but can he take another life? What will become of him if he stays with these people? If he
becomes one of them?
He’s so sick of being scared.
The mansion looms in the distance like a nightmare mirage. Jeongin takes a deep breath and
leans back in the seat, his heart thundering in his ears as the car drives into the front court
area and pulls up at the steps. By the time the car stops, Jeongin is shaking.
He follows Hyunjin out and up the stairs with the others and the air hasn’t gotten any lighter.
If anything, it’s heavier. Suffocating. Jeongin’s heartbeat is so loud in his ears, his vision
tunnels and his breathing is shallow. He feels like he’s walking towards his own death, not
someone else’s.
They reach the main hall and Jeongin can remember getting stoned here. He remembers
drinking and waking up on the floor curled into Hyunjin. Now the hall is dim, curtains
drawn, servants lined along the wall and Jeongin’s eyes are drawn to the table in the centre of
the room. On top of the table is a man, shirtless, bound and gagged.
The servants don’t bat an eye, neither does anyone else as they all stand around the table.
Jeongin’s feet feel like lead as he stands right at the head of the table, staring down at this
poor man he doesn’t recognize. He’s easily in his late forties, maybe early fifties. He’s plump,
the life of a sedentary businessman with no time to exercise or eat healthy and his eyes are
wide and terrified as he stares up at him.
The silence is deafening until Chan breaks it.
“You all know the deal,” he says. “God’s Menu is about loyalty, it’s about secrets and it’s
about being in on them.”
The others are watching him and Jeongin’s legs are shaking so hard it’s a miracle he’s still
standing.
“Innie was eventually going to be in on the secret but we didn’t think it was going to be this
fast,” Chan continues and Jeongin can see Jisung right at the other end of the table reaching
under the table. He pulls something out and passes it to Felix, who then gives it to Minho,
who passes it finally, to Hyunjin.
Hyunjin gently pushes it into Jeongin’s hand and when he looks down, he feels his blood
freeze. It’s a knife with a heavy black handle. The blade is sharp and glints under the light of
the chandelier.
“Once he does this, he’s one of us,” Chan finishes and Jeongin takes a shaky breath.
“Innie,” Felix speaks up. Jeongin looks at him and somehow in this ridiculous moment, Felix
is smiling. Not only that, it’s a genuine smile that lights his face. “I like you, you’re cute and
you’re a hard worker in the kitchen. I want to keep you if I can.”
Seungmin nods. “You’re a stabilizing force in the kitchen,” he agrees. “And I wouldn’t mind
having you around longer...if we can.”
Minho’s eyes are hooded. He looks almost hesitant as he lifts his gaze. “Innie, you’re cute.
You’re like...the baby of the restaurant. Our maknae...I’d like to keep you.”
A slow, burning feeling is churning in Jeongin’s stomach. He feels so sick, so so sick to his
stomach. His hands are shaking, he almost drops the knife and all he can do is stare
helplessly at the man on the table. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears again, the lump in his
throat, his eyes welling with tears and he can’t stop shaking.
“Innie,” someone finally says. Jeongin looks up to see Changbin watching him. “You can do
this.”
If he doesn’t...Jeongin swallows hard. If he doesn’t, he’ll be the one on that table.
He doesn’t know this man. He doesn’t know why he’s there. His hands shake and he can’t
even lift his arm to place the blade against his throat.
Finally, something warm touches his arm. Jeongin almost jumps in surprise and looks up to
see Hyunjin standing a lot closer than he was before. When did he move? Hyunjin’s hands
are so warm, one holding his wrist and the other holding his other arm. He stands against
Jeongin, chest pressed to Jeongin’s back and slowly brings Jeongin’s arm up, wrist tilted until
the blade is gently resting against the man’s throat.
He can hear the man whimper.
The others are still watching but Jeongin’s attention is focussed on Hyunjin. The warmth of
his hands, his body, his breath brushing against Jeongin’s ear. It’s intimate in the worst
possible way.
“Don’t look away,” Hyunjin whispers, fingers tightening over Jeongin’s wrist. “Don’t close
your eyes. Move your hand from one side to the other. Don't think.”
Jeongin wants to whimper too. Tears slip down his cheeks and he follows Hyunjin’s
command. He keeps his eyes open and he can see this man staring back at him.
It’s strange, the look he sees. If he were lying on this table, about to be killed, his eyes would
only show his fear but somehow this man doesn’t look afraid. Not anymore. Lying here with
a blade pressed to his throat, Jeongin thinks he can see relief.
Hyunjin doesn’t move his hand for him. But he doesn’t let him go either and in this moment,
something in Jeongin’s mind makes a firm decision. Clicks into place and dies. His eyes go
dull, his heartbeat finally stops hammering in his ears, his hands steady and with one move,
the blade cuts from one end of the throat to the other. It’s not like in the movies. The blood
doesn’t spurt out like a Tarantino movie. Rather, it seems to mist out, lighter than air.
It doesn’t take long. The gurgling, the choking. Jeongin watches as the man’s entire body
convulses once, then stops. He’s privy to the moment the light in this man’s eyes fades into
nothing and then he’s gone.
It’s only when he’s gone that Jeongin pulls back, sound fills his ears again and he can hear
them all cheering. The servants are clapping, the others are cheering for him as though he just
blew out the candles of his birthday cake. Behind him, Hyunjin presses a slow kiss to the
back of his neck and takes the knife out of Jeongin’s hand.
He’s suddenly attacked by Felix. The other hugs him so tightly he can barely breathe. The
others crowd around him, congratulating him and Jeongin just feels numb. It’s not until
Minho takes out a handkerchief and wipes his face that he even realises he was covered in
blood.
But it’s not fear that takes over him anymore. The feeling of pure anxiety is gone now,
replaced instead with numbness. He can’t even process what he’s just done and when
Changbin comes around with alcohol, he’s the first to drain his wine glass dry and reach for
another.
The servants move the body. It’s a party then and Jeongin can’t process anything - so he does
the next best thing and grabs every drink he can reach.
“I threw up the first time I did it,” Seungmin admits as Jeongin is jostled towards one of the
couches to sit down with him. Seungmin’s arm is warm around his shoulders and he leans in.
Warmth is good, he can feel warmth. He can feel the pleasant feeling of tipsiness as he’s on
his third wine glass.
It was somewhere on his second glass that he realised he hasn’t eaten all day and so the
alcohol is hitting harder and faster than usual.
“But now you’re one of us, Innie,” Seungmin says as though Jeongin isn’t desperately trying
to get drunk as fast as possible. “Now there’s no secrets. We’ll protect you because you’re
ours now.”
It should be comforting but it’s not. Jeongin just reaches for Seungmin’s glass and drains it
dry.
Across the room he can see Felix talking to Chan. Changbin and Hyunjin are smoking again
and at the sight of the spliffs in their hands, Jeongin suddenly wants it. It felt good last time,
to be that level of wasted and stoned. Where his anxiety was gone, his fear was gone and all
that was left was fucked out bliss.
Could he live the rest of his life like that? Too high, too stoned, too drunk to come to terms
with what he’s done?
Seungmin lets him go when he gets into an argument with Minho about something. Jeongin
isn’t paying attention, he just gets up and walks towards Changbin and Hyunjin. The music is
thumping through the walls, bass heavy as Jeongin stumbles up to them and takes the blunt
Changbin holds out.
“Slow down, Innie,” Changbin chuckles as he watches Jeongin take a deep puff. The hit is
glorious, it almost makes Jeongin stumble.
Jeongin just smiles, he hands the spliff back to Changbin and giggles a little. “I feel better.”
“I’m glad,” Changbin grins, on the verge of laughing himself. “Well, it’s not like any of us
are gonna end the night sober anyway. Look at Hannie.”
Jeongin turns around and there’s Jisung, standing in the middle of the room with Chan and
he’s already gone. His cheeks are flushed, he’s laughing and leaning on Chan until Minho
comes up behind him to hug his back.
“There was pregame,” Changbin explains when Jeongin raises an eyebrow. “Han started
drinking an hour before the restaurant closed. He never likes going to these initiation things
sober, because if you’d said no, he’d have had to be the one to put you on the table instead.”
Jeongin shakes his head. He can’t think about that. For his own sake, his mind can’t even go
there.
Then Hyunjin presses another glass into his hand and Jeongin chucks it back like it’s water.
The whisky burns all the way down but it dulls his senses enough that he leans back into
Hyunjin’s chest and feels Hyunjin’s arms comfortably wrapped around him. Changbin winces
at the sight.
“God, don’t tell me you two are going to be the next Han and Minho. I can barely tolerate
them fucking in the kitchen,” he complains.
Jeongin rests his head back on Hyunjin’s shoulder and feels the other chuckle. “Go confess to
Fe already,” Hyunjin shoots back. His hands rest gently on Jeongin’s stomach and the feeling
is comforting.
Hyunjin smirks. “Besides, we’ve already fucked in the kitchen. You just didn’t see us.”
Changbin chokes and Jeongin would laugh if he weren’t distracted by Hyunjin’s nose
nuzzling against the side of his neck.
Jeongin feels like the night blurs on. Time passes and he feels none of it. At some point,
Changbin leaves them and goes to talk to Felix instead. The others are dancing, laughing
amongst each other, getting stoned and drinking but Jeongin feels like he’s watching it pass
by him in a blur. The only constant is Hyunjin, pressed against his back, arms holding him so
steadily that Jeongin can rest his whole weight against him.
“I knew you could do it,” Hyunjin whispers into his ear.
Jeongin shivers but he can’t feel fear. Not anymore. It’s gone. His anxiety, his fears are gone
and all he feels now is blissful numbness.
“You can’t be drunk and stoned all the time, Innie,” Hyunjin points out, as though reading his
mind.
Jeongin’s giggles sound far away, they echo in his ears as though they’re not his. “Try me.”
“I won’t fuck you while you’re drunk.”
It takes Jeongin a lot longer than it normally would to understand the strangeness of that
statement. Hyunjin, who is a certified murderer, possibly clinically psychopathic - has
scruples? Killing people is fine by him but he won’t have sex with a drunk person? Jeongin
can’t help but chuckle when the realisation hits and he turns his head to see the other.
Hyunjin helps him. He turns Jeongin around so they’re facing each other and with one hand,
he holds Jeongin’s hip. His other picks up the spliff he’d left in one of the ashtrays. Jeongin
watches, entranced as Hyunjin takes a long, deep drag. His eyes flutter, perfect face a
stunning view as he holds the weed in his lungs and puts the spliff down.
Then, just like before, he puts his hands between their mouths, creating a tunnel. He blows
and Jeongin inhales.
It’s like breathing in god. Jeongin’s hands grip Hyunjin’s shirt and he inhales so readily. The
smoke burns in his lungs, his eyes close and when he exhales, he can’t help but giggle. The
hit clouds his mind but at the same time, Jeongin thinks it clears it. Takes out everything he
doesn’t need and leaves him the only thing he does need. It’s standing right in front of him,
eyes uncharacteristically gentle and smile tugging at his lips.
Jeongin burns at the sight of them, but for a completely different reason.
He licks his own lips and his stomach flips when Hyunjin’s eyes flick down to look.
“You’re not gonna fuck me?” Jeongin asks, voice squeaky and amused but still far away. If
he’s being loud, he doesn’t notice.
Hyunjin shakes his head and Jeongin hums.
“Will you kiss me?”
Someone in the distance laughs, maybe Felix. Maybe Jeongin is being loud but right now, he
really doesn’t have the headspace to care. Neither, it appears, does Hyunjin because that’s
when he grabs the back of Jeongin’s head and pulls him in. His lips are hard and unforgiving,
taking every last bit of air from Jeongin’s lungs but Jeongin meets him with equal fervour.
Someone’s clapping. Someone is cheering. Jeongin doesn’t notice a thing. Instead he curls
his arms around Hyunjin and tilts his head to deepen the kiss.
The alcohol got him drunk, the weed got him stoned but Hyunjin...Hyunjin is the most potent
of them all. When Jeongin feels Hyunjin’s tongue in his mouth, his brain finally - finally -
shuts down for good.
If this is what bliss feels like, he could die here.
On the other side of the room, Chan and Felix watch them. The others are cheering, they’re
too drunk to really care and it’s rare seeing Hyunjin this serious about anyone.
Felix pulls his phone from his pocket. He flicks through his camera roll until he lands on the
most recent video. A clear video of Jeongin killing that man, blood on his face, Hyunjin
behind him, kissing his neck. The video alone is incriminating evidence. Blackmail is the
most effective way to keep people obedient.
“How did you find out?” Felix asks. “Did you know from the start?”
Chan shakes his head. “I just found out today. I have sources, Fe. I’m a rich kid with too
much money and too much time to spend kissing his father’s ass. Of course I have a way of
finding out.”
“Still…” Felix trails off and looks over at Jeongin. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”
Chan hums. He wouldn’t have guessed either had he not asked his contacts in Seoul to look it
up for him. It was surprisingly easy to find the truth. Whoever was supposed to protect
Jeongin, did a terrible job.
“Send that to the Chief of Police,” he tells Felix. He watches Jeongin cling to Hyunjin and
smirks. “Tell him his son is mine now.”
Chapter End Notes
Hey guys!
I am both happy and not happy with this chapter. But I powered through! Now it's like
3am and I'm so tired but glad that this came out of my head somehow (forcefully but
sometimes that's the only way to get through a chapter when everything else in your
brain is like 'no, no writing today')
As always! Thank you so much for all your love, comments and support and I'll see you
next time!
IX: Per Ardua Ad Astra
Chapter Notes
Hey!
So, forewarning adding to the tags.

Recently a friend of mine was just ambushed by people who didn't read the tags in her
fic and came after her for it. I'm aware that most of you are sensible people who don't
want to hurt yourselves by reading things that will harm you but I will reiterate again,
please pay attention to the tags. I don't want any of you making yourselves
uncomfortable so please, read the tags :)
This chapter has a lot of sex in it, excuse me I was listening to a lot of Doja Cat for
inspiration (I'm kidding but not really, sexy music y'know? Just don't imagine Bitch
Boss playing as you read this, it might put you off a bit) and a tiny glimpse into
Jeongin's madness ;)
Enjoy!
SPOTIFY
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TIKTOK: 1 | 2
“I’m sorry, mummy.”
“It’s okay, baby.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“It’s alright. It’s alright. We can bury it in the backyard and plant a new lemon tree. Your
father likes lemons.”
Silence. A sniffle.
“Why did you do it?”
Jeongin can remember staring at his hands, soaked in blood. He remembers feeling extremely
confused. The last hour had been a blur of strangled screams from the neighbours dog. He
has scratches on his legs, the dog had tried to fight back.
But Jeongin was the one who had the knife.
“It bit me.”
Silence. His mother doesn’t believe him but Jeongin is only six, he doesn’t understand.
He had no business going into the neighbours backyard. He’d climbed under the hole in the
fence and that dog had come right for him. It was an awful thing. Golden brown coat now
matted with blood, large mouth gaping open because it died mid-scream. Big eyes staring out
into nothing.
His mother said nothing. She buried it in the backyard, planted a tree and cleaned Jeongin up.
She assured him that he could forget it, the scars would heal and he could forget.
But Jeongin never did. Because when his mother looked at the dog and felt only horror, he
felt something else.
Something he realised later on in life, he wasn’t supposed to feel.
Relief.
Sunlight streams through the windows, lighting the room in a soft golden glow. When
Jeongin opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is a tall glass of water with two little white pills
sitting next to it and a small note propped up against the glass.
‘Don’t throw up on me - HJ’
He almost snorts.
It’s not as hard this time to sit up and take the pills before the real hangover hits. He can feel
the distant throb in his head, warning him that it’s coming but more than that, he feels a
strange sense of lightness.
Strange, considering what happened last night.
He almost wishes the alcohol and drugs had wiped his memory but they weren’t that kind. He
can remember every detail of the face he’d killed, the eyes staring up at him, the blood on his
face. Hyunjin’s warm breath in his ear…
He looks around. He’s not in the main hall this time, he’s in an actual bedroom. The four
poster king sized bed is enormous and for some reason, he’s alone.
It’s almost disappointing. He’d half expected to wake up next to Hyunjin.
He finishes the water and puts the glass down before leaning back into the mass of pillows.
Staring up at the ceiling, Jeongin recalls every detail of last night with terrifying accuracy.
The blood, the eyes, the warmth. Felix had seemed particularly relieved that he’d chosen to
kill and not be killed. He remembers Chan talking to him sometime after he’d finally
separated from Hyunjin.
“Look at you, little Innie,” he’d laughed, his arm around Jeongin’s shoulders as he peers at
his face. “You’re truly fucked up.”
Jeongin had laughed. He’d been too far gone by that point. He didn’t even realise he was
talking to Chan, he was stoned and he was drunk.
Chan holds him up, one arm around Jeongin’s waist and the other around his shoulders.
Jeongin leans against him and over his shoulder, he can see Hyunjin. The other never took his
eyes off him. He tucks his face into Chan’s shoulder and keeps his eyes on Hyunjin’s pretty
face.
Then Chan pulls him closer, until they’re chest to chest. Pressed against each other in what
would be a hug if Jeongin were in any state of mind to hug Chan back.
“Welcome to the fold, Innie,” Chan whispers into his ear.
Opening his eyes, Jeongin pulls himself back into the present and looks around the room.
This is still Chan’s mansion and it wouldn’t be a far stretch of the imagination to conclude
that he has multiple bedrooms. Enough that he can comfortably put his staff up for the night
in one room each.
But why is he alone?

The door opens and Jeongin pulls the blankets up to his chin as though to cover his modesty.
He needn’t do so, it’s not like he’s naked. Hyunjin really hadn’t been kidding when he’d said
he wouldn’t do anything to him whilst he’s wasted.
When he sees Hyunjin come in, he relaxes a little and watches as Hyunjin closes the door
behind himself. He’s dressed in a simple white set of pyjamas, blonde hair a tangled mess and
Jeongin doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything so effortlessly beautiful. He thinks he should be
used to it by now but he’s not, it keeps taking him by surprise just how stunning the other is.
“Where are the others?” Jeongin asks as Hyunjin climbs up onto the bed and peels the
blankets back to let himself in.
“Sleeping,” Hyunjin grunts. He settles in next to Jeongin and slides an arm over his waist.
He pulls Jeongin down into the bed until he’s lying down. Jeongin turns onto his side to face
Hyunjin and it’s ridiculous to him how he can feel self conscious about his breath or the state
of his face when Hyunjin has seen him in various states over the last week alone.
Then Hyunjin’s hand slides over Jeongin’s cheek and Jeongin’s eyes flutter closed
automatically. He nuzzles into his hand like a cat, he can’t help it.
Something snapped in him last night. Something died and he suspects he knows what it was.
That last piece of innocence he’d somehow managed to keep even through his nightmarish
childhood. But when he’d cut that man’s throat last night, he’d cut something else too. He
can feel it, he won’t get it back.
Tilting his face towards Hyunjin’s face, Jeongin lets his lips brush the pads of his fingers and
he hears Hyunjin’s sharp intake of breath. His hand stills and Jeongin takes advantage of the
moment to part his lips and let his tongue flick gently over Hyunjin’s fingers.
They’ve danced around this for awhile now. A simmering, boiling tension both of them have
been ignoring but Jeongin’s lost the will to care about being scared of Hyunjin or Chan. He’s
lost the will to feel much at all but a burning desire to take away any negative emotion he
might feel. He’s sick of it, he’s sick of feeling scared. Last night he’d dealt with it by getting
fucked up and this morning, he’s scratched raw, He needs something to fill the empty space
before his brain can remind him what he’s done.
When he opens his eyes, he’s almost surprised by the look on Hyunjin’s face. His pupils are
dark and blown out, lips parted and Jeongin only just notices that Hyunjin stopped breathing.
Neither knows who pounced first but the bed barely squeaks as Hyunjin climbs on top of
Jeongin and takes his lips. Underneath him, Jeongin makes a sound against his mouth, he
parts his legs and there’s something so natural about the feeling of Hyunjin lying between
them. He curls one leg around Hyunjin’s waist and reaches up with his hands to hold onto his
shoulders.
Hyunjin kisses like they’re going to die in the next ten minutes. He’s not letting Jeongin
breathe and Jeongin doesn’t want to anyway. He’s too busy fighting against Hyunjin’s
tongue, pulling at his shirt and sliding one hand up into his hair to pull.
Hyunjin isn’t much better. There’s no hesitance or tenderness at all in the way his hands grab
and grope Jeongin’s body. He claws at his sides, scratches at his skin and grabs Jeongin’s
thigh to bring him closer.
“Off, off, off,” Jeongin mutters against Hyunjin’s lips, his hands already pulling at the
offending shirt in question.
“Fuck,” Hyunjin manages to mutter before he sits up and undoes the buttons of his pyjama
top with frightening speed.
Jeongin tugs at his own shirt and pulls it up over his head, he throws the cloth away and kicks
the blankets down. This room is suddenly way too hot.
The second the buttons are undone, Hyunjin pulls the shirt off his arms as Jeongin leans up to
attach his lips to Hyunjin’s chest. He gets a thrill when he hears the elder groan impatiently
and he can hear the distant sound of something falling off the bedside table when Hyunjin
throws his shirt at it.
Neither care.
Falling back into the mattress with Hyunjin on top of him, Jeongin is pulled into another kiss
and his hands can’t stop roaming. Hyunjin is like a furnace and his bare skin is surprisingly
silky under Jeongin’s fingertips.
Hyunjin’s hands are already pulling at Jeongin’s pants. He pulls back from the kiss to bite
and kiss along Jeongin’s neck and when Jeongin feels one of Hyunjin’s hands kneading at his
crotch, all he can do is gasp and hold on.
Blood. So much blood. Eyes staring lifelessly at him.
Jeongin opens his eyes and tries to shake the thought out of his mind. He clings to Hyunjin
and feels the burn of arousal coursing through his body when Hyunjin starts climbing down
his body, pressing kisses down his neck, his chest, his stomach.
“Hyunjin,” he mumbles and he looks down just in time to see Hyunjin tug at his pants.
He’s too far gone to feel any embarrassment about how hard he is already. He’s leaking at the
tip and when he sees the smirk on Hyunjin’s face, he almost dies.
“Eyes on me.”
A command. Jeongin shivers but he somehow manages to keep both his eyes open. He
watches every torturous detail of Hyunjin’s tongue lapping at the tip of his cock. The too-
gentle slide of his hand and the moment his entire cock disappears in Hyunjin’s mouth.
Jeongin wants to close his eyes. He’s afraid if he looks any longer, he’ll come right then and
there.
Slow, burning pleasure crawls through his body. Jeongin’s eyes flutter and he has to hold onto
Hyunjin’s hair. His body starts to shake and a whimper escapes his lips.
Hyunjin’s done this before. More than that, he’s good at this. Were Jeongin in his right state
of mind, he might have wondered who Hyunjin’s been with before but right now, it’s hard
forming any coherent sound, let alone a coherent thought.
“Hyunjin,” Jeongin chokes. “I’m close…”
Hyunjin pulls off and Jeongin almost yelps. He feels like he can’t look anymore but
Hyunjin’s gaze warns him not to look away.
“Not done with you yet, Innie,” he promises, his voice a raspy sound that goes straight to
Jeongin’s crotch. Hyunjin’s lips are swollen, his eyes darker than before and Jeongin can’t
think straight. The sight is almost too much.
“Don’t come until I tell you to.”
Jeongin almost whines but he surprises himself with his eagerness to follow the command.
He can’t list a single partner who could have commanded the same of him and lived to tell
the tale but for Hyunjin, he suspects he’d do this and a lot more to keep the other looking at
him like that.
“Turn over.”
Jeongin rolls onto his stomach and amidst blinding arousal, he feels a little trepidation. Just a
little, enough to remind him he’s never been on the receiving end of this before.
As if reading his mind, Hyunjin smooths his hand up Jeongin’s back and presses a small kiss
to his shoulder. Jeongin mumbles into the pillow and waits as Hyunjin climbs off him for a
moment to fumble with something at the end of the bed. When he returns, Jeongin can hear
the pop of a bottle and tenses until Hyunjin presses another kiss to his shoulder.
“Relax.”
Jeongin has to remember to breathe. Hyunjin’s hand is running gently up and down his back,
he’s leaning against Jeongin’s back but holding himself up so as not to squash him into the
bed. Jeongin doesn’t even think about where his other hand is until he feels fingers prodding
at his entrance.
He almost jolts in surprise.
“It’s cold!”
“Yeah,” Hyunjin chuckles in a low voice that makes Jeongin dizzy. “You’ll warm it up.”
Jeongin exhales, he’s not used to having anything inside him and Hyunjin isn’t doing this
quickly. He’s agonizingly slow with the way he pushes one finger in, then two. His kisses
come back to Jeongin’s shoulder and Jeongin turns his head to meet his lips.
Kissing works. The way Hyunjin steals the air from his lungs distracts him from what
Hyunjin is doing to him. He cranes himself up on his elbows, leaning back as far as he can to
kiss the other and he doesn’t notice when Hyunjin adds another finger.
He doesn’t notice anything until Hyunjin hits something that suddenly makes thinking,
talking, functioning at all, incredibly difficult. His entire body seizes, a powerful wave of
pleasure shoots through him and all he can do is gasp and swear.
“Holy fucking christ....”
The way Hyunjin laughs is going to kill him one of these days.
Hyunjin pushes it again and Jeongin almost spasms right there. He gasps and grips the sheets
underneath himself. Few more of those and he won’t last long at all, he’ll be a drooling mess
and it won’t matter what Hyunjin commands him to do, he won’t be able to do anything.
“Fuck me,” he manages to gasp and Hyunjin’s fingers pull out.
It almost takes too long for Hyunjin to put the condom on. Jeongin is lying there on his
stomach, he’s so achingly hard and aroused, he’s tempted to just finish it himself. He almost
reaches for his neglected cock when Hyunjin is back on him again and grabbing his wrists to
pin them up on either side of his head.
“No,” Hyunjin grunts, low and almost dangerous. “No touching.”
Jeongin wants to whine. He’s never been this torturously close before and not been allowed
to just finish the job. Reach that euphoric rush. But thankfully, Hyunjin doesn’t seem keen on
wasting any time either because when the tip of his cock prods Jeongin’s entrance, Jeongin
tenses in mild terror.
One, two, three, four, five fingers isn’t going to prepare him at all for the girth that is
Hyunjin. He’s felt that cock through layers of jeans, he’s pressed against it a few times
already, he knows the other is in no way small.
But somehow he presses and Jeongin has to hide his face in the pillow, bite his lip and hold
his breath as he feels Hyunjin sliding into him.
“Breathe Innie.”
Easy for him to say. Jeongin manages to think in a brief moment of clarity before Hyunjin
keeps pushing in. He’s not quick about this either, he’s slow, almost gentle. But he keeps
pushing and when he finally bottoms out, Jeongin lets out a gasping breath against the pillow.
“Fuck,” Hyunjin mumbles against Jeongin’s shoulder. He sounds half insane, Jeongin can
hear his ragged breathing, the way his hands hold Jeongin’s wrists just a little tighter. As
though to stop himself doing anything other than hold Jeongin down.
Then he moves and it’s painful for only a moment. Jeongin bites his lip and when he feels
Hyunjin slam back into him, the rush of pleasure comes back and he exhales with a moan.
Jeongin closes his eyes. Blood, knives, dead eyes staring at him. He can hear whispers and
they’re not his own. With a gasp, he opens his eyes again and Hyunjin’s rasping sounds
return to him.
He looks at his hand next to his head. Hyunjin is holding his wrist, his own fingers are curled,
gripping the pillow and with each thrust, they curl a little more.
Hyunjin’s lips find the back of his neck. Nibbles turn to bites and Jeongin chokes on a moan.
He moves his knees a little, giving himself a little leverage to push his hips back against
Hyunjin’s thrusts and the reaction is instantly gratifying. Hyunjin’s hips stutter, a choked
sound comes from him, followed by a moan. Jeongin can’t help but grin.
“Brat.”
Jeongin’s giggle is cut short when Hyunjin moves forward suddenly. A giggle turns into a
moan and Jeongin has to fist the pillow just to keep himself sane.
Jeongin doesn’t let up, neither does Hyunjin. Hyunjin’s bites leave marks on the back of
Jeongin’s neck and his thrusts pick up pace until Jeongin’s mind is a mess. His lips parted,
silent screams escaping him as he tries to keep his sanity but Hyunjin keeps fucking it out.
“Fuck, shit, fuck,” he screams and Hyunjin’s hand lets go of one of his wrists. “I’m gonna-”
Hyunjin’s hand ducks underneath their bodies and finds Jeongin’s neglected and weeping
cock. The moment he touches it, Jeongin’s hips snap and he cries out in surprise.
“Not yet,” Hyunjin pants. “Hold it.”
“Hyunjin…”
They’re loud now. There’s no restraint in either of their voices and Jeongin’s too far gone to
care. He’s so close, he’s going mad and it’s taking every iota of strength he has to hold off the
bliss he wants so desperately.
Then Hyunjin’s fingers move along his cock. His mouth bites at Jeongin’s shoulder and
Jeongin is about to scream when he hears Hyunjin’s low command in his ear.
“Let go.”
His body follows not a moment later. He doesn’t recognise the sound of his own screams,
only the rush of euphoric bliss that envelops him. His body snaps like a bow being released,
his fingers are clenching to the sheets so hard he could rip them. He can distantly hear
Hyunjin’s moans over his own.
He gasps and that’s when he realises that Hyunjin is pounding into him now. Hard, erratic
thrusts and all Jeongin can do is hold on until at last, Hyunjin exhales all the air from his
lungs in one, stuttering go as his body releases at last.
He slumps then. Jeongin finds himself squished into the mattress and he’s too far gone to
give a shit anymore. He’s in bliss, he’s tired, his breathing is still ragged but everything feels
so good. At last, all that lives in his mind now is not the cursed memories of a past he’s tried
to forget, but instead, bliss.
Hyunjin eventually rolls off him. Jeongin distantly registers him throwing the condom away
and wandering off for a bit to find a cloth to clean them both. Jeongin has no energy left and
flops onto his back when Hyunjin rolls him over to clean his stomach and remove the sheets.
Then he comes back to him, still hot like a furnace as he settles beside Jeongin and throws his
arms around him to keep him close.
Jeongin turns his head and tucks his face into Hyunjin’s neck. His nose nuzzles at the skin
and he exhales with a shaky breath. His arms wind their way around the other and he presses
himself as tight as he can into Hyunjin’s embrace. He feels a fuzzy contentment. He likes the
sound of Hyunjin’s breathing, the beat of his heart in the pulse on his neck.
It’s warm with the morning sun beaming through the windows. Jeongin and Hyunjin fall
asleep like that, curled into each other in the middle of the king sized bed with the sunlight
warming them through the curtains.
The car pulls up just outside the house and Jeongin peers through the window. He can see
Minji sitting on the veranda with Onyx on her lap.
“Do you need a hand?”
He turns back to look at Hyunjin sitting in the drivers seat. The other is watching him closely,
as though concerned that Jeongin is about to change his mind. He won’t.
“I won’t be long,” he promises. “I don’t have that many things and...Onyx…”
Hyunjin winces. “I can’t live with a cat in my apartment.”
“She’ll be happier with Minji,” Jeongin assures him. “I haven’t been home often enough to
look after her anyway.”
It’s safer this way. With Jeongin fully in the fold of the restaurant, things are likely to get
dangerous in the next few months. The less association he has with Minji, the better. For her
safety, he has to distance himself now.
“I’ll be back soon.”
He climbs out of the car and walks to the front gate. It swings open with a small squeak and
as he walks up the pathway to the front door, he’s vaguely reminded of when he first moved
in here.
If he’d known what he was walking into, would he have turned around and taken the first
train back to Seoul? Probably.
“Minji,” he greets with a smile as he approaches.
He expects Minji to smile back, maybe wave, call him by another name. Maybe not even
acknowledge him at all. Her mental state has never been the best.
But instead she just stares ahead. On her lap, Onyx purrs and Jeongin feels something
inherently wrong. At first glance, Minji just appears to be spaced out there on the veranda.
But a familiar cold feeling creeps up his spine and when Jeongin gets closer, he recognises it.
Dead eyes.
That’s when the smell hits him and he realises he hasn’t been home in a few days now. How
long has she been sitting out here?
Onyx jumps off her lap and pads towards Jeongin. She nuzzles at his leg but Jeongin can only
stare at Minji. He doesn’t hear the car door close, nor the squeak of the gate opening. But
when Hyunjin’s hand touches his arm, he finally twitches out of his reverie and looks up to
see the other is standing right next to him.
“I...I don’t know how long she’s been…” Jeongin can only stammer.
Hyunjin carefully avoids Onyx and steps forward. He kneels down next to the seat Minji is
sitting on and looks over her carefully.
“Natural causes maybe,” he mutters and turns to look at Jeongin. “Nothing is on the floor, no
signs she crashed into anything. She went quickly.”
Jeongin stares and he doesn’t know what to do. What should one do in a situation like this?
Do they call the police? The ambulance? The morgue?
“We can’t call the police,” Hyunjin says after he asks. “We can’t be seen by the police, they’ll
ask too many questions and what if one of them figures out who you are? Game over.”
“Well...we can’t just leave her here,” Jeongin squeaks helplessly. “She’s probably been here
for days, we can’t just…”
Hyunjin frowns and Jeongin can tell he sees no problem in leaving her here for someone else
to find. But he seems to rethink it when he sees the look on Jeongin’s face because he sighs in
resignation.
“Pack your things, we’ll make an anonymous call when we leave.”
Jeongin looks down. “What about Onyx?”
Hyunjin is adamant as he shakes his head. “I can’t have a cat in my apartment.”
After a moment of thinking it through, Jeongin nods. “Call Minho.”
Onyx is restless in the car. With no cat carrier available, Jeongin has to hold the cat as she
hisses at the car door and tries to scratch her way out of his arms. Next to him, Hyunjin has
both hands on the wheel and he’s already looking pale.
Jeongin frowns. “Can you breathe?”
Hyunjin doesn’t answer, instead he presses the button next to him to open his window and
this only makes Onyx more restless.
Jeongin can’t help but look over his shoulder and watch as Minji’s house shrinks behind
them. They’d left her where they’d found her and it had killed Jeongin to do so. She deserved
so much more. The thought that she was sitting there, dead, for more than one day tore him
up inside and he could have found her so much earlier if he hadn’t gone looking in that
damned freezer.
Maybe he could have even helped her. Could have prevented this. What if she was sick? He
could have noticed that, had he been home.
Onyx’s hiss drags him out of his thoughts and Jeongin can’t help the troubled look on his face
as Hyunjin finally pulls up next to a block of apartment buildings. Jisung is already standing
outside one with Minho who rushes right up to Jeongin when he comes out with Onyx in his
arms.
“Hello precious,” Minho cooes, gathering the restless cat in his arms and kissing Jeongin on
the cheek. “You alright?”
The expected answer is yes. Jisung and Hyunjin would probably expect him to say so even
though as far as Jisung knows, Minji is his grandmother. Hyunjin knows Minji isn’t even his
grandmother but a batty old woman who barely knew who he was. Jeongin isn’t meant to be
upset by her death but there’s something in Minho’s eyes that breaks Jeongin’s resolve. He
shakes his head and Minho immediately pulls him in for a hug with Onyx settling in his other
arm.
He can hear Jisung talking to Hyunjin but chooses not to bother listening in. All hopes of
reporting any of this back to the police died the second Chan found him in the freezer. If he
wants to live at all, he can’t be the son of the police chief. He answers to Chan now.
Minho is warm and Jeongin buries his face in his shoulder. He feels Minho’s hand rubbing
circles in his back and Onyx hasn’t even moved, she’s quite content in his arms.
“Innie,” Hyunjin calls.
Jeongin pulls away and is surprised when he feels a wet tear slipping down his cheek. When
did he start crying? Why?
Minho swipes it away with his thumb and gives Jeongin a small smile.
“We’ll catch up later,” he promises before gently pushing Jeongin back to the car.
As Jeongin climbs in, he doesn’t miss the weird look Hyunjin gives him. He rubs at his face
and closes the door as Minho appears at Hyunjin’s window with Onyx in his arms.
Hyunjin leans back a little.
“Be nice to him,” Minho advises Hyunjin. “The death of a grandparent might not mean much
to you but it does to the rest of us.”
“Get the cat away,” Hyunjin coughs and turns his head to sneeze.
Minho blows a kiss to Jeongin and when he’s away from the door, Hyunjin rubs at his nose
and starts the car up again.
Neither say anything. Not for awhile. But when they’re nearly at Hyunjin’s apartment,
Hyunjin finally speaks.
“Why are you upset?”
Jeongin turns to look at him. Hyunjin’s eyes are trained on the road but he can tell Hyunjin
isn’t used to this. He’s seen Jeongin in many states but not like this. Upset over the death of
someone he technically didn’t even know that well. Jeongin understands his grasp on the
scope of human emotions is stunted but even this should have been obvious.
“I knew her.”
“So?”
“So it’s sad,” Jeongin explains, a little too rubbed raw to be patient of Hyunjin’s blunt
confusion.
Hyunjin still doesn’t look like he understands and Jeongin takes a deep breath. There’s no
point trying to explain. He’s not going to understand. He’s not capable of it.
They pull up to the apartment and Hyunjin leads the way up as Jeongin brings his bags.
When they dump them in the bedroom, Jeongin sits on the end of the bed - suddenly drained.
Hyunjin looks awkward for a moment, as though he doesn’t know how to deal with Jeongin
when he’s sad like this. Frightened, yes. Angry, sure. Sad? No.
“Do you want something to eat?”
Jeongin can’t help but chuckle tiredly. He’s nearly died in a freezer, been brought back,
murdered a man in full view of the others and now Minji’s dead. He’s now living with a
psychotic murderer he’s incredibly attracted to and this is not how he could have predicted
his life going one month ago.
Now Hyunjin’s standing there offering him something to eat. In light of what’s happened in
the last week alone, it’s horrifically domestic.
Murdering a man had brought him into the fold but what exactly did that mean? Would he
keep working in the restaurant with the full knowledge that the meat they served was human?
To what end? He’s already gathered this comes back to Chan’s father so does that mean the
meat is people against him? Is this how he’s silencing anyone who speaks out against him?
And his father...Jeongin shivers at the thought of his own father. Chief of police stationed in
Seoul. How much does he already know about this? How much did he know before he sent
his only son right into the spiders web without so much as a single weapon or shield to
protect his real identity?
If he’s the fly and Chan’s the spider, Chan already has his web woven tight around Jeongin’s
squirming body. All he has to do now is drain him until there’s nothing left.
The only thing that stopped him from doing that was Hyunjin. He looks up at the other and
Hyunjin still looks out of place. Uncharacteristically unsure of himself and it says a lot that
he wants to help but doesn’t know how to. He’s concerned but he doesn’t know how to make
this better.
“Come here.”
Hyunjin blinks, startled by the sudden request. He walks up to Jeongin and sits down next to
him on the bed.
Jeongin watches him. Blonde hair, dark eyes, beautifully stunning features. It’s like he was
carved out of stone. He turns and brings his hands up to Hyunjin’s shoulders before pushing
him down until he’s lying with his legs dangling off the edge of the bed.
Hyunjin still looks confused. Calm but confused even as Jeongin climbs onto him and keeps
him pinned down by his shoulders.
Hyunjin is stronger. He could push Jeongin off but curiosity keeps him from doing that and
it’s just as well because with the rage of sad emotions rushing through him, Jeongin can only
think of one way to take his mind off it and everything else going on in his life right now.
“Hands.”
He blinks, again confused but curious. His hands rise and Jeongin grabs his wrists. One in
each hand. He places them down on either side of Hyunjin’s head and leans over him.
Then, with his crotch strategically placed over Hyunjin’s, he moves and revels in the tiny
gasp that escapes the otherwise stoic Hyunjin.
Hyunjin doesn’t stop him and Jeongin moves again. He sees Hyunjin’s pretty eyes flutter and
a powerful sense of control rushes through him at last. Control. He hasn’t felt that in months
and it feels amazing. At last a small sliver of a smile appears on Jeongin’s face as he does it
again and watches Hyunjin’s fingers curl until his hand is made into a fist. As though it’s
taking every ounce of his self control not to take over.
He’s so pretty. So unfairly beautiful that Jeongin can’t take his eyes off him. It spurs him on,
thrusts grow more intense, harder until Hyunjin finally cracks and makes a noise but to his
credit, he doesn’t make one move to take over. Choosing instead to submit.
Jeongin pants, eyes wild as he presses down on Hyunjin’s wrists and leans over him.
“If I let go of your hands, will you take over?”
Hyunjin’s eyes watch him curiously. “Do you want me to?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t move.”
It’s enough for Jeongin who climbs off, cautiously at first but when he sees that Hyunjin has
no intention to break his promise, he climbs off the bed and pushes at his own pants. There’s
a strange sense of comfort, empowerment in the way Hyunjin watches him. Lets him have
this as though he’s figured out that if he can’t comfort Jeongin from sadness, he can let him
do this.
Jeongin moves to pull Hyunjin out of his jeans. His hands shake a little on the belt and
although he sees a small crack of a smirk on Hyunjin’s face, the other doesn’t move an inch.
Not even to help. The only thing he does is lift his hips a little to let Jeongin pull his pants
and that smirk appears again when Jeongin looks down and a blush appears on his face.
“You don’t wear underwear?”
“Never saw the point,” Hyunjin replies, cocky and self sure.
Jeongin climbs back on and reaches for the lube standing out in the open on the bedside table.
He’s quick to prep and he has to admit, it’s quite impressive seeing Hyunjin stay perfectly
still even through a very thorough handjob. The most he gets is a flutter of his pretty eyes.
When he finally lowers himself, Hyunjin’s hands twitch and he grabs his wrists to hold him
down as inch by inch, he feels himself stretch to let Hyunjin inside himself. He keeps his
eyes on Hyunjin’s face the whole time. Watching as inch by inch, Hyunjin finally struggles to
keep himself under control.
It’s agony in the best way because when Jeongin is finally fully seated, he lets out a breath he
hadn’t realised he’d been holding and Hyunjin does the same. Hands now curled into fists
and pushing a little against Jeongin’s grip.
Good.
Jeongin is merciless then. Pushing himself up and slamming himself down hard enough to rip
a yell out of both of them. Then again and again, picking up the pace until he’s using his grip
on Hyunjin’s wrists to pull himself forward and push himself down again. Underneath him,
Hyunjin’s started moving his legs, trying to brace his heels on the bed and give himself some
leverage to thrust back but Jeongin’s in control now.
Through it all, Jeongin keeps his eyes trained on Hyunjin’s.
This man is the only reason he’s alive now. He’s grasped that fact. The only thing standing
between him and almost certain death is Hwang Hyunjin. Anyone with a will to live would
recognise that and keep it alive through any means necessary - regardless of what he feels.
It’s only a plus that Hyunjin looks like a god and is so good in bed.
“Fuck, Innie,” Hyunjin groans as Jeongin tightens himself around him. He can feel his walls
stretching to fit Hyunjin and the sound is obscene. “If I’d have known you’d be this fucking
horny, I’d have brought you here sooner.”
Jeongin leans down, he plugs Hyunjin’s mouth with his own and feels the other return the
kiss. Or at least attempt to. With Jeongin’s relentless thrusts, it’s more of a mashing of tongue
and lips mixed with a desperate need to breathe. They end up breathing in each other.
Jeongin’s mind is, at last, blissfully empty. No more Minji, no more anxiety over his
troubling future - however short it may be. No more fear of Chan, no more fear of the
unknown. All he feels, breathes, all he thinks is Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin and it’s the most
intoxicating and poisonous drug known to man but if he could fill his veins with him, he
would.
With a whimper, Jeongin lets go of Hyunjin’s wrists and grabs his shoulders. He gasps and
pulls back just far enough to look at his face. The desperation in his eyes can’t be hidden.
“Fuck me,” he begs and when he starts trying to roll over, Hyunjin finally gets the hint and
rolls them over until Jeongin is underneath him.
Jeongin had been doing his best but he’s not Hyunjin. His thrusts were meant to tease and
entice. Hyunjin fucks into him so hard that he’s pushed up on the bed until his head almost
hits the wall. But in the most wonderful way, it’s freeing. Jeongin finally lets go, screaming
until his lungs are hoarse, clinging to Hyunjin so hard he digs his nails in his back and draws
blood.
What spills from his mouth is unchecked, unconscious babble of swears and begging.
Until at last, euphoria. He comes at last and when the rush spills through his veins, he gasps
and loses his voice. His head tilts back and he can just barely hear Hyunjin’s groan at the
sight.
“So fucking pretty, Innie,” he pants. “You’re so fucking pretty.”
The come down is just as intense. He feels Hyunjin coming inside him, feels the way the
muscles in Hyunjin’s arms and shoulders tense and relax as he flops on top of him, breathless
and spent.
The sound of their panting, their gasps for breath fill the air and through the hot, sweaty
stickiness, Jeongin wraps his arms around Hyunjin and his legs.
“Don’t...don’t pull out…” he manages to breathe, eyes fluttering as he feels Hyunjin twitch a
little inside of him. “Just stay there.”
Hyunjin’s face is mashed in his neck. He’s breathing hard but somehow he manages to
mumble.
“Gonna have to...pull out eventually…”
“Yes but not right now, stay there,” Jeongin begs, his arms tightening a little. “Just stay.”
Hyunjin doesn’t answer. Instead he makes a small noise and stays right where he is, lying on
top of Jeongin. Their body heat almost uncomfortable but neither seem to mind.
Jeongin’s eyes flutter open and he can see the ceiling past Hyunjin’s hair. At last, at last, all
he feels is relief.
Numb. Blissful. Relief.
“You asked to see me, sir?”
Chan looks up from his papers and spots Jeongin’s head in the doorway of his office. A small
grin snakes its way onto his face as he puts the pen down and nods to let the other in.
“I think after I’ve seen you stoned, drunk and kill a man, we can drop the formalities,” Chan
says as Jeongin inches in and takes a seat opposite his desk. Jeongin still looks cautious and
wary. “Call me Chan.”
“Um...okay.”
“Or Hyung if that’ll make you more comfortable.”
A little relief. “It would. A bit.”
“Hyung then,” Chan nods. He pushes his papers away and leans forward, his arms resting
comfortably on his desk as he looks over the boy.
It’s been a few days now and Jeongin - to his credit - has kept his head down. He’s put
himself into work with a vigour no one saw before. But the atmosphere has changed a little
bit. Because now he’s one of them.
“Innie, relax with me,” Chan implores with a kind smile. “I’m your boss but I also have a
personal interest in your comfort.”
Jeongin squirms in his seat a little. “It’ll take me...awhile to relax,” he admits honestly and
Chan can sense he doesn’t want to address the elephant in the room.
Fuck it. Elephants. More than one of those things and both Chan and Jeongin can feel them
acutely.
But okay. If he doesn’t want to address it, then they won’t. That’s not why Chan called him in
anyway.
“I asked you here to ask a favour of you.”
Curiosity. Jeongin blinks at him and Chan smiles. Jeongin is disarmingly cute in a way most
people are when they’re completely unaware of it.
Chan is almost sorry he knows too much about Jeongin. Had he been blissfully unaware that
this kid was the son of the chief of police in Seoul, he may have even become a favourite.
“As you heard, because you were there to witness it, I have an engagement party and
announcement coming up,” he continues. “Here in this restaurant.”
Jeongin nods and Chan continues. “My future bitch of a wife is…” he pauses, there are so
many horrible words he has for her but this requires a bit of finesse. And class. “...difficult.”
Understatement of the year.
“But I need this party to go well. Mostly for the sake of our fathers and the press that will
hear about this and run the story through every news outlet the following morning.”
“Yes,” Jeongin prompts and Chan can see it in his eyes, he’s trying to figure out what all this
has to do with him.
“Even though this engagement works for her and it’s what she wants, I need her to behave,”
Chan continues with a small smile. “That’s where you come in.”
Confusion paints Jeongin’s face and again he looks unintentionally adorable. “...how?”
“I will be funding her wardrobe and makeup for the night of the party,” Chan says. “Her
father refuses to pay for her when I can. But I don’t trust that she’s not going to just take my
card and buy every shiny piece of jewellery she sees. That’s where you come in.”
There it is. A dawning realisation. Horror. Fear. Good. Boy should be scared of Kaeun, she’s
annoyingly terrifying.
“I need you to chaperone her for the day,” Chan finally says, bringing his point home. “The
day of the party, instead of coming here to work, you’ll be with her. Accompany her to find
her dress, makeup, everything she needs. You’ll be in charge of my card and I’ll give you a
budget to follow. Do not go over it.”
“Sir-”
“Hyung, Innie.”
“Hy-hyung, I’m not the right person to do this,” Jeongin immediately starts and he’s sweating
now. He’s pale and almost shaking. “I-I barely even know her and she’s…”
Chan fights to keep a smile appearing on his face. “She’s what?”
A pause, as though Jeongin is afraid of offending him. “...she’s scary.”
Chan laughs, loud and sudden it makes Jeongin jump a little. He throws his head back and
giggles, genuinely amused by Jeongin’s honesty.
“I agree,” he says after a moment to compose himself. “She is. But I can’t send Felix with
her, she’ll kill him. Hannie and Changbin have something to do that day. I need Seungmin
and Minho on the restaurant floor and Hyunjin...well if she doesn’t kill him, he’ll kill her and
that’ll cause more of a headache. You’re the safest and most reliable option.”
Jeongin still looks scared.
Chan leans forward and manages a kind, gentle smile. “I give you my word, she’s not
allowed to kill you or touch a hair on your head. All I need is for you to go with her, don’t let
her max out my card and bankrupt me before I even have to marry her. There’ll be a bonus in
it for you but I need someone to do this and you’re my best option.”
There’s a long moment of silence then. Chan sees a plethora of emotions rush past Jeongin’s
eyes from fear to reluctance to fear again. Finally acceptance as he manages a small, shaky
nod.
Chan leans back in his chair, relieved. “Thank you Innie.”
Jeongin mumbles and when Chan gives him the nod to the door, Jeongin excuses himself and
heads out to get back to work.
When the door closes behind him with a quiet click, Chan takes a deep breath and pulls his
phone out. He finds her name in his contacts and reluctantly presses the call button.
It takes her three rings to pick up, probably because she wanted to talk to him just as much as
he wanted to talk to her.
“What?”
“On the day of the engagement party, I’ll pay for your wardrobe and makeup,” Chan tells her.
“With one condition.”
“What condition?”
“I’m sending someone with you. He’ll be in charge of the credit card and he’s been instructed
not to let you go crazy.”
A scoff. “Like I’d put that much effort in a party at your restaurant, it’s just an announcement
party.”
Chan sighs. He has to thank one blessing, he’s not marrying someone intelligent. Vindictive,
yes. Clever, sometimes, But intelligent, no.
“You will because the media tend to pay attention to a prestigious, upper class engagement
between the son of the prime minister and the only daughter of the CEO of one of the richest
companies in South Korea, if not the world.”
A pause, he gives her time to think about it.
“...the media?”
“Yes. I’m making this public. Putting my word out there so I can’t go back on it. That’s what
you wanted, isn’t it?”
Another pause. She needs time to think.
“...so who are you sending me?”
Chan smirks. “You’ll find out on the day. Be nice to him and don’t eat him, please. I have
plans for him and I kind of like him.”
“Do I need to know what these plans are?”
“You don’t need to know anything about my business unless I want you to,” Chan replies as
he leans back in his seat. “And right now, you don’t need to know anything.”
“Fine, I won’t hurt him,” Kaeun promises. He can practically hear her pout. “Is that all? I
have better things to do than sit around talking to you.”
“Same here,” Chan retorts, sugary sweet laced with venom. “I’ll see you at the engagement
party, dearest.”
“Can’t wait, darling.”
Chan hangs up first and closes his eyes. He can feel a migraine coming on.
But he has one more call to make and with a sigh, he reaches for his phone again and flicks
through his contacts before he lands on a name he’s only called once. This man picks up on
the first ring. Good.
“Sir?”
“Thank you for your work,” Chan says. “All your information checked out beautifully. I’m
sending you the money - as promised.”
A pause. “Thank you sir.”
“Got to admit, the whole thing worked out beautifully didn’t it?” Chan sighs, his eyes staring
up at the ceiling as he puts the man on speaker. “I mean just when the Chief of Police is
looking for somewhere to put his son in Busan, you step up and volunteer your…was she
your grandmother?”
“No sir, she was an old friend of my mothers. But she’d lost her mind a few years ago so she
wouldn’t have recognised Jeongin in her house. It was convenient.”
“Then you proceeded to tell me all about it once you were sure the kid was in my nest, very
loyal of you. I couldn’t have orchestrated that better,” Chan chuckles. “Guess moles in the
police do pay off.”
“Of course, sir. I’m loyal to you and your father.”
Chan rolls his eyes. Of course he is. But his near sycophantic attitude had proved useful.
Without it, Chan would have never known.
“I’ll send you some extra for her funeral,” he says. “Old friend of the family or not, she
deserves a proper service don’t you think?”
“I...suppose so, sir?”
“Of course she does. She served me without even realising it. She housed Jeongin which
allowed him to comfortably crawl into my arms without me having to do a thing. The least I
can do is give her a proper service,” Chan smiles. “You’ll come, won’t you?”
Another pause, a breath. “If you...wish me to?”
“I do. You should show the woman some respect, you used her without her knowledge and
the poor thing died alone. Least you can do as someone who knew her is show up.”
“...of course sir.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Yes sir.”
Chan smiles. “It’s settled then, I’ll expect a call from you when you get to Busan and I’ll give
you the details.”
“Yes sir.”
He hangs up and holds his head with a groan. Migraine.
But he can be thankful for two things at least: with Jeongin in his pocket and the chief of
police put on notice, they’re not likely to send another one of their spies. Not when he’s
threatened the chief already. The man may make one shitty father but that is his only son in
Chan’s hands now. One wrong move and Chan won’t hesitate before sending Innie back to
his father in dishes.
Then there’s the matter of Hyunjin. With Jeongin in the fold, he’s distracted, placated and
under control for now. Patience is a virtue, his father always used to say, and it’s coming true
now. With patience, he’ll watch the two of them. Figure out how to use their relationship to
his own advantage.
Maybe even finally, finally, be able to control Hyunjin’s unpredictable temper.
The day his father is finally elected president, Chan can finally take several migraine pills
and sleep longer than three hours a night.
He can’t wait.
X: Nosce Te Ipsum
Chapter Notes
Read the tags, please for gods sake read the tags.
To anyone who is a fan of the guy I use in this chapter - I'm sorry.
I don't actually think this is what he deserves but I used him for creative purposes. What
happens to him hits a little differently if it happens to an OC we don't know so...I used a
familiar name.
See the end of the chapter for more notes

SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
The first time Jeongin was placed in an asylum, he was fourteen years old.
Jeongin still remembers it vividly. The padded walls of the asylum had a certain kind of
smell. Like stale disinfectant. As though someone once cleaned this room, then padded the
walls and forgot that the scent would seep into the padding, causing the faintest scent of sick.
That’s what he associated it with. Sick. It smelt like a hospital corridor on a damp day.
And with this scent permeating the air, sticking to his straightjacket, Jeongin felt it chipping
at his mind. Piece by piece. As though savouring each piece of his sanity like a precious
keepsake.
Did people go to asylum’s to get better or to actually lose their minds?
He’d lost count of the day. His little room had no window, save for the tiny little window they
kept in the door. Every now and then, he’d see the shadow of a guard, a doctor doing the
rounds. He’d already had his pills, and he’d swallowed without hiding it under his tongue -
thank you very much.
It was sometime between the third guard shift that his door opened. The sound of the heavy
door echoed against the walls and Jeongin looks up to see Doctor Kim standing there.
They’re all Doctor Kim’s here. A few Doctor Lee’s too. One could argue that the names are
so damn common that of course most of them have it but Jeongin has long since suspected
the real reason they’re all named that is because should one of their patients ever escape -
good look trying to accuse the right Doctor Kim of patient abuse.
Afternoon shift Doctor Kim was a rotund man with an ill-kept beard. In his stubby fingers, he
held Jeongin’s patient file and was perusing it with a look of indifference. Comforting,
considering this man is the one who decides the dosage of his drugs.
“Jeongin, we’ve had this talk before,” the doctor says in a mournful tone that falls flat to
Jeongin’s ears. “You can’t bite the nurses.”
“She was raising my dosage,” Jeongin points out, voice dull but eyes flaming with
accusation.
“No she wasn’t.”
How the fuck would he know, he wasn’t even there.
“Your mother is concerned, you know,” the man continues and as he gets closer, Jeongin
shifts his body back until his back is pressed to the padding of the wall. It’s not out of fear,
but disgust. This man, all of the doctors are, to Jeongin, disgusting.
“She says you killed all the animals in your neighbourhood.”
“The dog bit me.”
“Did all the dogs bite you?” the doctor challenges and Jeongin doesn’t like the look in his
eyes. When his mother had asked that very same question, she’d looked terrified. When he
asked, he looked menacing.
“How about the cats?” he continues. “The birds? Did they bite you too, Innie?”
“Don’t call me that,” Jeongin hisses.
“Animal abuse without remorse is a classic sign of a future serial killer,” the doctor says with
a tsk. “A sociopath or psychopath.”
Jeongin huffs. “Well which one, doc? They’re not the same.”
He’s not sure where this almost suicidal apathy is coming from. Any idiot would know not to
poke or piss off the doctor who could so easily kill him with an overdose but he can’t seem to
help himself sometimes. It’s almost as though he wants them to hurt him - if only so he can
have the pleasure of knowing he crawled under their skin and pissed them off.
The doctor then puts the file away and crouches down to Jeongin’s level and as his face gets
closer, Jeongin feels a violent lurch in his stomach. The doctor himself smells of disinfectant.
Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting.
“Tell me why, Innie-”
“I told you not to call me that,” Jeongin spits, his voice soaked in hatred.
“Tell me why.”
Jeongin can’t. He’s been asked this before. By his mother, by the therapist who tried to help
him before they had no choice but to chuck him in here. They’ve all asked him and for the
life of him, he cannot answer.
Because he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t even remember doing it. Too many times he’s
woken up and noticed the blood on his hands, the bodies he tried at first to hide in his sock
drawer or under his bed. It’s as though something else takes over, another him. He calls it his
‘monster’ but of course telling anyone else that would land him in this godforsaken pit
forever.
Jeongin may get some pleasure out of riling the doctors up by smartassing them but he’s not
suicidal enough to admit something that would make them throw away the key.
When he doesn’t answer, the doctor turns back to his notes.

“You told your mother that the first dog bit you, the second one barked too loudly-”
“At four in the morning,” Jeongin snaps. “My mother couldn’t sleep!”
“The third one kept staring at you when you passed by the fence-”
“I know what I fucking said!” Jeongin shouts and he immediately regrets it. He’s supposed to
get under their skin, not the other way around.
The doctor still has that look in his eye. An almost cruel glint that makes Jeongin want to curl
up and cry for the safety of his mother’s arms. But they’re not safe anymore, she’s the one
who sent him in here. Even against the protests of his father who’d come home in time to see
them take his son away.
His father who was never home. His father, who probably had no idea what Jeongin did to
end up in here. His father who didn’t know what his wife got up to when he was gone.
Yeah, that one.
And yet Jeongin will never forget what he’d felt when those orderlies had come for him.
They’d come to the door and his mother was crying, she didn’t explain anything but he’d
heard her say: “He’s in his room.”
They were stronger than him. He’d cried, he’d screamed and they’d forced his arms into this
jacket. They dragged him through the front door, kicking and screaming so loudly that the
neighbours came out to look. Their murmurs were loud enough for Jeongin to hear them even
over his own screaming.
“They’re finally taking him away.”
“Took her long enough.”
“I’d have locked a psychopath like him away long ago.”
“Gotta wonder if it runs in the family - look at his father…”
As they began stuffing him in the back of the car, his father’s car finally pulled up to the side
of the road. It was the first time Jeongin had seen him in five months - he didn’t miss him and
yet when he saw the look of shock and utter rage upon seeing this, Jeongin felt something
he’d never felt towards his father before.
Hope. Relief.
“Help!” he’d screamed and his father had been so angry.
He’d marched up to the orderlies, demanded an explanation, told them he was with the police
and he’d have them both arrested. All the while Jeongin kept trying to wrench himself out of
their hold and into his father’s arms. He’d never wanted him so badly as he did at that
moment since his mother wasn’t helping.
His mother walked up to them then. She pulled her husband aside and Jeongin couldn’t hear
what they were saying but he saw the look in his father’s eyes change. Only a little.
Then the orderlies took him away and neither of his parents fought.
“Up his dosage.”
Jeongin spat in his face. He watched the momentary rage in Doctor Kim’s eyes and that’s
what he wanted. Get angry at me, do something. Lose your fucking composure and strangle
me.
But the man didn’t. Instead he got back up, took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped
at his face.
“And sedate him.”
And when the nurses came in, held him still and pumped him full of so many drugs he
couldn’t see straight, the last thing Jeongin thought of was the look of rage and protectiveness
on his father’s face. And how for the first time in his life, he wanted to hear his voice.
“Tell me about your mother.”
Hyunjin looks up, confused as he looks over at Jeongin sitting on the end of his bed. The
question had come out of nowhere. He’d just been on his phone, looking through news
headlines when Jeongin had come out with that at 11pm.
“My mother?”
Jeongin nods. There’s something fragile in his eyes, there usually is when the conversation
has anything to do with either of his parents. The information Hyunjin had managed to dig up
about him before all of this began was atypical of a child in a loveless marriage - with parents
who should never have been parents.
His was no different.
After a moment of thinking it through, he takes a deep breath and turns to Jeongin properly.
“I never met her,” he admits. “But my father told me all about her.”
Jeongin perks up. He shouldn’t. It’s not a happy story. “He did?”
Hyunjin nods but doesn’t elaborate as he stands and walks to the bed. There’s a sleek
elegance in everything he does but Jeongin notes there’s even more so when he’s walking
with intent. As he is now. Dark look in his eyes, his pupils darkening, Jeongin knows the look
on his eyes well by now. He doesn’t fight at all as Hyunjin takes his phone from him and sets
it aside before climbing onto the bed and pushing Jeongin down onto his back.
Hyunjin hovers over him, hair curtaining over his face, over those eyes that have Jeongin
petrified as though Hyunjin himself were Medusa.
Against his better judgement, he asks: “What did he say?”
He knows better. He’s seen Hyunjin’s criminal record, he’s seen everything the cops dug up
on him, he knows Hyunjin did not have a happy childhood. Far from it actually. A long and
arduous list of criminal activity from when he was very young and at the root of it all, an
extremely abusive father who was in and out of jail all Hyunjin’s life.
Hyunjin noses Jeongin’s neck. The gentleness of his touch contradicts the look in his eyes
and the low, dangerous tone of his voice. Jeongin fights not to let his eyes flutter as Hyunjin’s
hand slides up his side and under the hem of his shirt.
“He said I’m a lot like her,” Hyunjin says, lips tracing slowly along Jeongin’s neck.
Agonizingly slow and teasing. He kisses and Jeongin reaches a hand up to hold his shoulder
as his breath comes out in a stutter. Hyunjin continues in that same, low voice that has
Jeongin’s mind spinning. “He said I remind him of her sometimes. My eyes, my lips…”
Those same lips are now nipping, teeth biting gently, leaving little pink marks along
Jeongin’s collarbone.
All the while, Jeongin is trying to remember what he’d read on Hyunjin’s record. His father
was abusive but didn’t something happen? What happened to him? Where is he now?
“He said she was a whore,” Hyunjin continues and Jeongin lifts his arms to let Hyunjin take
his shirt off. The garment is thrown aside and Hyunjin’s lips continue their trek down his
chest. Every nip of teeth, every little pink mark has Jeongin gasping. He doesn’t even realise
he’s already hard and grinding against Hyunjin’s flat stomach as the other climbs down his
body.
“He said I’d be a whore just like her,” Hyunjin says with a nip to Jeongin’s belly button that
has the other stuttering out a moan. “If he only knew.”
What happened to him? Jeongin is struggling to think with each nip of Hyunjin’s teeth but he
has a feeling he knows. He’s read it. He had to memorise their records, god, what happened
to him?
“Alcoholic, son of a bitch never knew what I did in his bed when he was away,” Hyunjin says
and now his fingers are pulling at Jeongin’s belt. Jeongin tries to sit up but is quickly pushed
back down with one firm hand on his chest. “Down, Innie. I’m in charge.”
A shiver rushes through Jeongin’s body and his brain is struggling. It’s frustrating. He knows
he read it, he knows he did…
“All the boys I fucked on his bed,” Hyunjin says as he pulls Jeongin’s trousers down with his
underwear. “All the times I pissed on his pillow. How many times I spat in his food…”
“Hyunjin,” Jeongin whimpers and he’s struggling not to think of the disgusting mental
images whilst Hyunjin is so close to his weeping cock but it’s really difficult. That voice is
doing weird things to him and all the while he’s struggling to remember. Remember what
he’d been forced to memorise before - what the hell happened to Hyunjin’s father? What did
the police report say?
Then Hyunjin doesn’t talk and Jeongin looks down just in time to see the other wet his
fingers and disappear between his legs. The first lick against his entrance has Jeongin gasping
and arching his back, especially when Hyunjin’s free hand finds his cock at last and strokes
it. Cold fingers against heated skin, Jeongin whines and in his peripheral vision, he can see
his fingers grasping at the sheets for a shred of sanity.
It’s frustrating. It’s on the tip of his brain, he knows this, he knows he knows this. He’s read it
a thousand times, he’s looked over Hyunjin’s profile more than anyone else because even
before he met him, he was captivated by that face. But what was it?
Hyunjin’s fingers work him open and Jeongin welcomes the burn. It’s easier now than before,
his feet push gently against Hyunjin’s back and he lets out little whimpers every time he feels
his tongue but his brain won’t leave him alone.
There was something. Something important he’s forgotten now.
“H-Hyunjin,” his voice stutters, it sounds weaker than he intends and he gasps when he feels
the other pull away from him. Hyunjin’s face comes into view as the other climbs onto him,
arms bracing him on either side of Jeongin’s head. Jeongin looks up at him, big black pupils,
dark with arousal. The pink tinge of his cheeks, the little smirk on his lips and Jeongin’s
stomach flips at the sight.
It’s not normal to feel so aroused at the sight of someone who looks like he’s about to eat him
alive but in this moment, Hyunjin is quite possibly the most attractive thing he’s ever seen in
his life.
Jeongin’s hands come up to hold Hyunjin’s face. His fingers push stray locks away and as he
gazes up at him, his brain keeps poking him. Something’s missing, something’s missing,
what is it? What is it?
He doesn’t even notice the fact that somewhere between eating him out and climbing on top
of him, Hyunjin lost his trousers. He only notices when Hyunjin reaches one hand down and
inserts his cockhead into him. It slides in with ease, ripping the rest of the air from Jeongin’s
lungs. Hyunjin watches the look on his face, the look of utter abandon and he feeds off it.
Something’s missing...something’s missing…
Jeongin’s arms lock around Hyunjin’s back, his own back arching when he feels Hyunjin’s
tongue on his neck, followed by a swift bite hard enough to bruise. His legs wrap around
Hyunjin’s waist and he wishes his brain could just let it go. Who cares? Who cares what
happened to Hyunjin’s father, he was clearly a monster, who cares?
But there’s some part, some little part of Jeongin’s mind that does care. It keeps poking,
keeps trying to remember what it was he’d seen in that profile.
“Wanna know what I did to him?” Hyunjin whispers in his ear between thrusts that have
Jeongin’s toes curling and breath stuttering.
Jeongin’s eyes flutter, his fingernails scrape pink lines down Hyunjin’s back and he shakes
his head.
Hyunjin chuckles and Jeongin whines.
“You do.”
“I…” Jeongin gasps and shakes his head again. “I don’t.”
Suddenly, Hyunjin pushes himself up and pulls Jeongin up onto his lap, wrenching them both
upright. Jeongin gasps at the friction to his prostate and all he can do is cling, hold on whilst
Hyunjin picks him up, still connected and carries him across the room to the wall.
Jeongin’s warm back meets the cold wall and he whines as he’s held between the wall and
Hyunjin’s thrusts. He reaches back to grab it, bracing himself against it and Hyunjin sucks at
another bite on his neck.
“I’ll tell you,” he whispers, breath stuttering with the exertion of holding Jeongin up and
fucking into him.
Jeongin’s eyes flutter open. He looks at Hyunjin in front of him, his hair a tousled mess, eyes
blown out and he’s the picture of ethereal beauty. But the smile on his face is what gives
Jeongin pause. It’s a terrifying smile, the same way one might smile at a man they’re about to
murder.
“Hyunjin,” he gasps, his hands coming up to grasp his shoulders.
“He walked in on me fucking someone on his bed,” Hyunjin tells him, each thrust making it
incredibly hard to think as he focusses right on Jeongin’s prostate. “Came home early and
saw me there with some little twink I picked up.”
Jeongin shakes his head, he doesn’t want to think about it but Hyunjin’s forcing him to. What
surprises him though, isn’t the creeping realisation that Hyunjin’s about to tell him something
horrific, it’s the fact that Hyunjin was in bed with someone else. That’s what disturbs Jeongin
most and when his fingers dig into Hyunjin’s shoulders, the other chuckles.
“Don’t like that?”

“No,” Jeongin hisses, his head tilting back at one particularly hard thrust.
“So he caught me there and he threw a fit,” Hyunjin continues and Jeongin’s amazed he can
even pay attention when Hyunjin is assaulting his body so thoroughly like this. “He
threatened to kill me, pinned me to the wall and called me a whore. Just like my mother, a
whore.”
God, what happened, what was written on that record? Jeongin’s head tilts back and he’s
trying to think but he can feel it, he’s so fucking close he’s shaking.
Hyunjin’s hand finds his throat before he realises it. His grip isn’t hard enough to strangle
him but it’s certainly enough to give him pause. He gasps and when he looks up, the look in
Hyunjin’s eyes is even darker.
“He held me like this, left bruises on my neck as he tried to strangle the gay out of me,”
Hyunjin hisses and when his fingers press against his neck, Jeongin reaches a hand up and
tries to pry it off him.
“Hyun-”
“So I blacked out and when I came to,” Hyunjin’s hand leaves his neck and Jeongin gasps as
Hyunjin pulls him close, hips thrusting into him so hard that he sees white.
So close, so fucking close.
Jeongin’s breath leaves him in little stutters and gasps, he feels dizzy from the lack of oxygen
but god, he wouldn’t stop this for anything. He clings to Hyunjin, his arms so tight around his
shoulders, clutching his back, leaving marks where he can and his lips press desperate kisses
to Hyunjin’s shoulder - he didn’t notice Hyunjin was still half clothed.
“When I came to, I saw the blood all over the walls,” Hyunjin whispers into his ear. “I had
the knife in my hand and I remember what I’d done to him - and to the boy who saw it all.”
Jeongin’s eyes fly open and he remembers suddenly. There, on Hyunjin’s criminal record.
Arrested on suspicion of the murder of his father and another boy, but released for lack of
evidence. But how? How did they have no evidence?
Hyunjin pulls him into a kiss and Jeongin’s mind finally blanks now that he’s remembered
what it was he’d read. His hands hold the back of Hyunjin’s head and Hyunjin swallows his
whimpers as he finally comes. Neglected cock weeping between their bodies, he can feel it
but he doesn’t care as Hyunjin’s breath finally catches in his throat, Jeongin’s name slipping
out as a whisper when Hyunjin follows him into oblivion.
Through sheer force of will, they make it back to the bed instead of collapsing onto the floor.
Hyunjin places Jeongin down first and collapses next to him, both of them still gasping for
breath.
Jeongin stares up at the ceiling. The police report had simply said he’d been suspected of
killing his father. It said he’d been released because of a lack of evidence but anyone would
know the evidence was overwhelming. Unless there was someone else in the house with
them, Hyunjin had to be the only one who could have done it. Unless someone blamed the
boy and even then, what motive could he have?
His hand finds Hyunjin’s between them and squeezes. He feels Hyunjin squeeze back. He
turns his head to see the other looking up at the ceiling as well.
“How did you get away with it?” he asks.
He doesn’t expect an answer but Hyunjin lets out a breath and keeps his eyes up to the
ceiling.
“Chan,” he says quietly. “He paid for my lawyer. That’s how I met him.”
Jeongin imagined his day babysitting Kaeun to go so many ways. From her eating him alive
to Chan throwing him back in the freezer, each and every scenario inducing more anxiety
than before.
But for all his anxieties, for all the ways he ever imagined this day could go wrong, it was
surprisingly - almost disappointingly - tame.
She’d clearly been told beforehand not to intimidate or - godforbid - eat him because as
terrifying as Jeongin thought she would be, she wasn’t. For the most part, she ignored him,
dragged him around Busan’s shopping district and picked out clothes whilst he religiously
held onto Chan’s credit card.
“I’m thinking black,” she says. Her tone is somewhat light, almost conversational as she
thumbs through the dresses on the rack.
Jeongin looks up, he’s not sure she wants his opinion but when she looks pointedly at him, he
realises he’s expected to contribute. “...black?”
“A somber evening, is it not?” Kaeun smiles and Jeongin isn’t sure whether she’s serious or
not. “My betrothal to a man I can’t stand all for the sake of my father. And they say we’re in
the 21st century.”
Jeongin blinks. As far as he could recall, she was the one pushing for this. Chan would be her
husband and would therefore be expected to pay her way, provide for her as was the deal.
“You don’t want to marry Chan?” he asks, forgetting for a moment that he’s terrified of her.
For a moment, he can see a fleeting shine of honesty. Jeongin can’t say he’s been good at
much but he is good at telling when someone’s guard is down and hers is all the way down.
He’s not sure of the cause - perhaps she doesn’t see him as a threat? Perhaps this is all
happening so fast and she hasn’t had time to process it? But her next words are so raw with
quiet emotion that he can’t think she’s lying.
“I never had a choice in the matter, did I?”
Jeongin blinks. He’s not sure what to say to that so he stays silent. He watches as Kaeun
blinks, remembers herself and that wall is back up. Cold, superior, he’s back to being nothing
more than an ant under her overpriced shoe.
“Yes,” she says, tone set right again as she pulls the dress out and looks into the mirror.
“Black. It’s slimming anyway and since there are cameras, one can’t look fat on the tabloids.”
The conversation is over. Jeongin can tell, he’s expected to stay silent and not say another
word as he watches her disappear into the changing room.
He takes a seat nearby and tries to ignore Chan’s credit card burning a hole in his pocket.
Instead he thinks back onto the events of this morning when Hyunjin had found out that he
was to spend the day with Kaeun on Chan’s orders.
“What the fuck?” Hyunjin had hissed once he recognised the black sedan that had stopped
right in front of the apartment building. He pulled Jeongin aside by his arm and turned his
seething eyes on him instead. “When were you planning on telling me?!”
Jeongin wilts a little. He’s not quite sure what kind of relationship he has with Hyunjin (they
fuck, they live together, Hyunjin is the only thing stopping him from getting killed but does
that make them boyfriends?) but Hyunjin is no less scary now than he was the first time they
met.
“You weren’t going to like it,” Jeongin offers as a pitiful excuse.
Hyunjin huffs. “Of course I don’t fucking like it!”
“But there’s nothing you could have done to stop it anyway!” Jeongin argues, albeit still a
little weakly in the glare of Hyunjin’s seething eyes. “It was Chan’s orders.”
Hyunjin growls. He glances at Kaeun where she’s waiting in the car and Jeongin can see the
wheels turning in his head. Well oiled but secretive as he tries and fails to find a way out of
this with such little notice.
Hyunjin is still holding his arm. Cold, thin fingers tightening enough to bruise. Jeongin
winces but doesn’t make a sound in protest - that would only make him worse.
“There’s nothing to be done about it,” he tries again to pacify Hyunjin. “And I’ll be fine. It’s
just Kaeun, she’s not gonna eat me.”
He realises what he’s said only after he’s said it and he pales at the thought. He’s working for
a restaurant that serves human meat - she might actually eat him.
The horn goes off impatiently and Hyunjin glares at it but there’s nothing he can do about it.
Not right now anyway. He has work as well and tonight, no one can slack off. The
announcement and party at Gods Menu tonight will make headlines. They all have their roles.
So his hands come up to hold Jeongin’s face. Jeongin makes a surprised noise as the other
pulls him in for a possessive, rapacious kiss that Jeongin feels all the way down to his toes.
Hyunjin even bites his bottom lip a little.
When he lets go, Jeongin is breathless. He stumbles to the car and he feels the burn of
Hyunjin’s eyes on his back the whole way.
It doesn’t disappear until well after the car has already pulled away from the curb.
The curtain to the dressing room draws back, pulling Jeongin from his thoughts. He looks up
to see Kaeun dressed in a sleek, black evening gown with spaghetti straps. It fits her like a
glove, silky material slipping down to her feet. It seems utterly weightless, floating with air
as she moves to look at herself in the mirror. Jeongin’s eyes flick to the cleavage on display
and he wonders if Chan is the type to get distracted by that.
Something in Jeongin doubts it but Chan’s relationship with Felix aside, he has no idea what
the other is about. The only person in the world who probably understands Chan is Felix
himself.
“Hmm,” Kaeun hums as she adjusts the straps a little and turns to look at herself.
Jeongin doesn’t offer a comment. Instead he looks over her figure and he has to admit, she
fits the part. A well-bred daughter, born and raised to be someone’s trophy wife in the end.
Were he not so terrified of her, he’d be more concerned about the marriage she’s about to
walk into. What kind of future would she, as the daughter-in-law of the future President of
South Korea, have? Married to someone like Chan who runs a place like Gods Menu.
He doubts there will be much marital bliss in the future.
She goes back into the changing room without so much as a word and Jeongin thinks that’s
the end of it until a dress is thrown up and over the curtain. It lands on his lap, crumpled and
inside out as she calls.
“Put that back on the rack, pet. It’s not the right one.”
Jeongin takes a deep breath and stands to do as she tells him to. If this is going to be his day,
being ignored and doing her bidding, he can live with that. It’s better than whatever hell is
going on at the restaurant at the moment, that’s for sure.
“Fucking Chan,” Minho hisses under his breath as he looks over the guest list. “Dumping this
night on us and then fucking off with Han and Changbin…”
Across the room, Seungmin eyes the grumpy man skeptically but keeps his mouth decidedly
shut. Chan had kind of dumped this on them. Despite the fact that they’d all known this day
was coming, he’d given them warning, but on the day of the preparation he was nowhere to
be found.
Neither were Jisung or Changbin.
He’d even given Jeongin another task to do.
Which left the preparation of the restaurant to Minho, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Felix. So it’s
reasonable that Minho is seething - unfortunately that also means his temper is going to be
unleashed on the rest of them.
The one plus is that the restaurant is closed for the preparations. With the party starting at
6pm, they have the day to prepare the food, clean the restaurant to the tiniest detail and
decorate it for the festivities. Chan had been very clear about it. All the people who could
make them or break them would be there, the press would be there, his father and her father,
everyone.
The kitchen is quiet, save for Minho’s grumbling. Hyunjin sits on the counter with Felix,
Seungmin has chosen to lean against the other end of the counter - as far away from Minho as
he can possibly get. It’s still the early hours, they still have time but they’re woefully,
woefully understaffed.
Next to Hyunjin, Felix is twitching. His hand comes up and he starts to bite his nails before
Hyunjin reaches up and pulls his hand back down again.
“Don’t do that,” Hyunjin mutters, his eyes trained on the wall in front of him. “It’s
disgusting.”
Felix glances at him and then to their joined hands. Hyunjin’s hands have always been cold.
In contrast, Felix’s own hands are warm - as are Jeongin’s.
“Are you worried?” he asks, searching for any emotion on Hyunjin’s beautiful face. “About
Innie?”
“He’ll be fine.”
Monotone. Just as Felix had expected.
Felix looks down and slips his hand out of Hyunjin’s hold. He folds them on his lap and
shakes his head. “I’m worried,” he admits. “Kaeun is….terrifying.”
Seungmin huffs. “Perfect match for Chan, then.”
“Shut the fuck up, Seungmin,” Felix snaps, suddenly angry at the thought of Chan marrying
her.
They all fall silent again until Minho finally drops the guest list and takes a deep breath.
“Alright,” he announces, getting up to his feet to walk to them. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.
Hyunjin and Seungmin, you two are on the floor. Cleaning and decorating. Fe and I are in the
kitchen with the appetisers and courses.”
Felix and Hyunjin get off the counter and move to start working immediately but Seungmin
narrows his eyes.
“I’m faster than you with a knife,” he reminds Minho. “There’s a reason I’m in the kitchen,
not you.”
“Seungmin, fight me on this and I’ll show you how much faster I am with a knife,” Minho
says, the threat clear enough in his voice as he looks to the man in question. “I’m in charge,
get out there and help Hyunjin before I serve them your eyeball.”
Seungmin glowers but he doesn’t fight. He pushes himself off the counter and heads through
the swinging doors to the main floor where Hyunjin is already pushing the chairs out of the
way.
Left alone in the kitchen, Minho turns to see a troubled look on Felix’s face. He tilts his head
and walks up to slide an arm around his shoulders.
“What’s wrong, Fe?” he asks, tone considerably gentler now. It usually is when he’s talking
to Felix.
Felix shakes his head but Minho rubs his shoulder, gentle cat-like eyes imploring him to open
up and it’s only too easy to confide in him. Felix feels a lump in his throat, his thoughts a
mess as his hand comes out to clutch the counter - as though to keep himself standing.
He takes a deep shaky breath and leans into Minho.
“Does he have to marry her?” he asks, voice small and wobbling. “Can’t we tell him not to?”
Minho frowns and Felix shakes his head again. “Can’t we stay as we are? Can’t we freeze
time?”
Minho doesn’t understand. There’s something between Chan and Felix, something neither of
them have ever explained to anyone else. Everyone understands that it’s something deep and
unbreakable, they need never ask for more information. But seeing Felix like this is a first for
Minho - in all the time he’s known him, he’s never seen the other so...fragile.
So he pulls him into a hug and it’s only when his arms are locked around the other that Felix
finally cracks. First sob covered by Minho’s shoulder as the other breaks apart in his hold.
Minho looks up to see Hyunjin standing near the swinging doors, watching them both.
Hyunjin’s eyes flick to Felix for a moment, an unreadable look passing over his eyes before
he leaves them both in peace.
Minho turns his attention back to Felix and presses a small kiss to the side of his head that he
can reach. He can’t say anything comforting and he suspects Felix doesn’t need him to either.
He just needs someone to hold him, help him through this and keep him together for tonight.
What a shitfest it’s going to be.
The Chief of Police was a tall, intimidating kind of man. Hardened by his years on the force,
his dedication to his service came at the cost of his attention to his wife and son. All this,
Chan could tell from just one glance.
The lounge is the classy type. Jazz music playing from the bar, very few patrons at this hour
of the day. Chan booked out the VIP section and the room is much larger than he needs. Four
long, leather couches stretched across the walls, coffee tables between them and a view of the
first floor where the wealthier patrons of Seoul spend their afternoons.
The Lonely Hearts Club of the rich and widowed.
Chan leans back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other as he watches the Chief at the
doorway. He’s stopped by Changbin and holds out his arms obediently as Jisung pats him and
his two guards down.
They’re not armed. They wouldn’t have been able to get into the lounge armed, police or not,
but the extra precaution makes Chan smile as they’re finally allowed entry.
Jeongin kind of looks like his father. Same doe eyes, only his are a little more weary, aged
prematurely because of his job.
Chan gestures to the couch next to him and when the Chief sits, he’s still stiff. His guards
choose to stand.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet me here,” Chan says. “I trust you had no trouble slipping
away?”
“Where’s Jeongin?” the Chief asks immediately and that makes Chan smile.
“You’re a good father,” he says after a moment. “Asking the right question. My father
wouldn’t think to ask after my health first.”
The Chief shifts a little uncomfortably and Chan clicks his tongue. “He’s alive,” he assures
him. “Off shopping with my fiancee as a matter of fact. You know women and money, I’d
sooner trust your little son with my credit card than her.”
The man looks like he doesn’t know whether to glare or laugh a little. His eyes are still hard,
still on guard and Chan suspects that guard won’t let up either. He wouldn’t have become
Chief of Police if he let his guard down.
After a moment, the Chief speaks again. “I want proof.”
To that, Chan shrugs and brings out his phone. He taps for a moment and as he does, Jisung
and Changbin enter the room and close the door behind themselves, locking themselves in
the room with him. The chiefs guards shift a little, both seem afraid of Jisung and Changbin -
and for good reason too. If they did their homework and knew who they were, they’d have
reason to be afraid.
“Here,” Chan says, flicking his phone over so the chief can see the security feed.
The chief squints, the image isn’t the clearest but it seems to be a security footage of a
clothing store. He can see the changing rooms and standing outside looking rather bored is
Jeongin, holding four different dresses in his arms.
Chan takes his phone back and slips it back into his pocket. “I’m taking care of him.”
The chief’s nostrils flare and Chan knows what he wants to say. But he dare not say it here.
Not in front of Chan and most certainly not in front of his own guards. Chan knows why.
He’s the only one who saw the video footage Felix sent to him. The chief didn’t tell anyone,
not even his guards, that his own son has committed murder.
“Do you really want to have this conversation here?” Chan asks, a slight tease in his voice as
he watches the stiff man in front of him. “Can you trust your men?”
“Of course I can,” the chief snaps indignantly. Only Chan can see the waver in his eyes, he’s
in a trap and he knows it. Damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t. If he sends his men
out, they’ll wonder why but if he keeps them in, they’re about to find out what kind of shit
Jeongin is in.
Chan gives him a moment longer and that’s all he needs. The chief turns to his men and with
one nod, they leave the room.
When the door closes, Chan turns his eyes back to the chief. He has to give it to the man, he’s
holding his own despite his position being akin to that of a rat in a trap.
“You have moles in your station,” Chan informs him. “One in particular is responsible for
Jeongin’s position. Were it not for him leaking information to me, I would have never found
out he was your son and sent to me to investigate me.”
The chief’s eyes widen. He’d clearly done this with the impression that he’d taken all
precautions. Chan can see him going through the short list of people who possibly knew
about this mission, who could have told Chan about it.
Chan decides to put him out of his misery. “How convenient that your top hacker happened to
have a grandmother in Busan, right?” he teases. “Right when you needed it? Good thing too
that she was in the later stages of Altzheimers and dementia, she had no idea who Jeongin
was.”
It clicks and the chief’s eyes darken in realisation.
Chan leans in. “Thing is, sir. I don’t want sycophantic hackers as my moles, they’re only
useful to a point and I doubt you have any use for someone like that in your team as well.”
The chief glares. “I will handle him.”
“Allow me, he’s coming to me anyway,” Chan says with a smile. “What I want is you.”
“You’ll never have me,”
“Sir, consider the position you’re in,” Chan presses. “Your son is in my hands and I can do
whatever I like with him.”
The chief’s eyes darken and Chan tilts his head. “Hey, how was that bulgogi I sent to you?”
Then, confusion. Sudden realisation. “...you sent that?”
“Yes,” Chan smiles. “Bulgogi is a specialty of our head chef, you see. The ingredients
were...quite personal to you and I.”
It takes a moment of furious thinking before it finally hits the chief. Chan sees the colour
drain from his face as he realises not only what that bulgogi must have been made of but
where all the missing people are going. All this time they’d been looking for bodies, the
evidence was being eaten right under their noses.
“What does your wife like to eat?” Chan continues playfully. “I bet she’s dying to see her son
again. I can send him to her in a lunch box-”
“Stop, just stop,” the chief finally snaps, his calm composure out the window as he watches
Chan. “What do you want?”
“I told you, I want you and you’re in no position to deny me,” Chan smiles. “I have spies in
your precinct, my father is climbing to be the future president and in due time, you’ll be on
the wrong side of this.”
The chief is starting to sweat now. Chan can see it. He’s trying to think of a way out and there
is none. Not when Chan has his son. It’s almost refreshing to see a father who actually cares.
He may not be the most perfect father out there - given his line of work he was quite possibly
an absent father and husband, but he does care.
Which is more than what Chan can say about his own father.
“What….what would I have to do?” he asks, his voice smaller and Chan notes Jeongin has
the same habit. When he’s scared, his voice is smaller. Quieter.
“Stay right where you are, be the chief and tell me things when I want to know them,” Chan
tells him. “In return, you’ll be compensated and protected.”
He nods to Changbin and Jisung, both of whom bow to the chief for a short moment.
“...and Jeongin?”
“Safe,” Chan assures him. “You’re gonna have to take my word for it but if you desire it, I
can get him to call you in a few days time. I might even send him home to see his mother in
due time. But just know that if I so much as hear a whisper that you’re crossing me, I will put
your precious son in a pie and ship him to you and your wife.”
There’s a resigned look on the chief’s face and it’s enough assurance for Chan. He’s not
going to go to anyone about this, he’s got too much to lose.
“Now,” Chan smiles and he’s leaning back in the couch again. Content with his new alliance.
“About your hacker-”
“He’s yours,” the chief answers, tone suddenly cold as his doe eyes return to their previous
hardness. Chan’s smile widens.
“As you wish.”
After the chief leaves, Chan checks the time on his phone. Jisung and Changbin come from
their positions at the door and sit on either side of him.
“Flight back to Busan in an hour,” Chan sighs as he puts his phone back down and leans his
head back on the couch. “Kill me.”
Changbin snorts. “You could still call it off. Say no. Fuck off Kaeun, don’t need a wife.”
“It’s not about the wife, it’s about her father,” Chan reminds him. “I need him. Just like I need
Innie’s father.”
Jisung looks up from where he’d been sneakily resting his head on Chan’s shoulder. “Innie’s
the police chief’s son?”
“Sorry to drop that on you suddenly,” Chan closes his eyes. “It kind of came up quickly.”
“No, it makes sense actually,” Jisung comments and Chan turns his head to look at him.
“...really?”
“Timing wise,” Jisung shrugs. “He comes in right as the other guy goes out? I don’t believe
in coincidence.”
Changbin shakes his head. “You sure it was a good idea taking the police chief in? Is Innie
enough insurance?”
Chan snorts. “Of course he’s not. The guy can still betray us and knowingly kill his son in the
process. I’m not an idiot, Binnie. I crossed that T and dotted that I before this meeting.”
“So...you have something he can’t lose?” Jisung asks and Chan nods. “What is it?”
“I’ve got an eye on his wife,” Chan shrugs. “If he makes a move I don’t like, I’ll take her out
first. Innie’s mum is a new sort of fucked up from what I’ve heard.”
The other two prod him to continue and he chuckles. “Gimme a break, I’ve been off my feet
since I found out what Innie was. Then there’s the thing with Hyunjin and my father and on
top of all that, I’m getting married.”
He hears both of them huff and he smiles. Neither Jisung nor Changbin like it but it says a lot
that after that explanation, they don’t still urge him to call it off.
“Still with me?” he has to ask.
Jisung nods and rests his head on Chan’s shoulder.
Changbin just sighs. “To the bitter, bitter end, Chan.”
Somehow, they managed it.
Gods Menu stands proudly, the pillars shining against the lights below. Music welcomes the
patrons of the night inside and as Jeongin climbs out of the sedan with Kaeun, he has to stop
and look up at the building in slight awe. The majesticness of this restaurant is lost in the day
but at night, at night is when it truly glows like a colosseum.
Kaeun holds out her hand and Jeongin gives her his arm. For the most part, she’d ignored
him all day but she’d stuck to the rules. No going overboard with Chan’s card, no eating him.
Jeongin is glad for that last part.
There are already people with cameras. Jeongin shrinks as they take photos of Kaeun - and by
extension, him. They ask her questions about Chan and she answers with quiet reassurances
that the announcement will be made later.
Jeongin has never made a point of following the lives of the rich socialites of South Korea
but he’s starting to realise now that they’re kind of celebrities.
As he walks her in, he notices Seungmin waiting at the door, greeting people as they enter.
Seungmin notices him and his smile warms just a little.
Kaeun lets him go with a small sniff. “Here,” she says to Seungmin. “Have him.”
“Enjoy your night,” Seungmin replies, one hand coming out to take Jeongin’s arm.
Jeongin follows him gladly as he’s ushered through the growing crowd of the main floor, to
the kitchen doors where he’s immediately wrapped into a hug. He recognises the scent before
he even lifts his head to see the blonde hair and pure relief on Felix’s face.
“Oh thank god, I’ve missed you,” Felix sniffs, hugging him again and this time so hard that
Jeongin almost chokes from the force. “I was so worried.”
Jeongin doesn’t know what to do so he kind of pats Felix’s shoulder until the other lets him
go.
“She didn’t eat me,” Jeongin assures him. “Actually, she ignored me most of the day - save
for one or two comments.”
Felix nods. “Don’t fall for it. She can’t be trusted.”
“Let him breathe, Fe,” Minho scolds but he comes through to pat Jeongin on the shoulder.
“You alright, Innie?”
Jeongin nods, he finds himself looking around the kitchen automatically but he’s not seeing
the one he wants to see. What he can see is that the kitchen is already working full force to
cater for the crowd in the main area.
“He’s not here,” Felix says, accurately guessing who Jeongin is looking for. “He’s out on the
floor handing out appetizers.”
“Which is where I’ll go,” Seungmin says with a small look at Minho. He grabs a tray and
promptly disappears through the doors.
Jeongin blinks. “Chan? Han? Changbin?”
“Not back yet,” Minho sighs. “And we have a lot of work to do so I hope Kaeun didn’t tire
you out too much, I could use your hands.”
Jeongin is roped right into the kitchen. Back in his uniform, he’s stationed near Felix and
chopping up the vegetables when the back door opens and Chan pokes his head in, followed
by Changbin and Jisung.
Minho almost drops his knife at the sight of them. “Babe!”
Jisung sneaks out from behind Chan and rushes towards him to give him a kiss. Felix
abandons his station and runs to Chan and Changbin.
“Everything okay?” he asks, tone thick with worry.
Chan nods and glances at the main room. “It’s filling up fast,” he comments. “How are we in
terms of food?”
“Lemme have him and him,” Minho demands, pointing to Jisung and then Changbin. “I need
hands in this kitchen and on the floor.”
Chan nods. “Done. I’m gonna go change and I’ll be out there soon too.”
At the reminder of the announcement, Felix pales. He reaches out and grabs Chan’s shirt,
making him pause and look at the expression on his face. From where he is, Jeongin can see
it too. Lip trembling, pale skin, large eyes filling with tears again. Felix is terrified.
“Don’t,” he pleads. “Please.”
Chan takes a deep breath but his eyes soften considerably. Behind him, Changbin bites his lip
and goes to help Hyunjin and Seungmin on the main floor.
Chan doesn’t say anything. He just takes Felix’s hand on his shirt and brings it up to kiss his
fingers. Then he squeezes his hand and ducks back out to change in his office. Left alone,
Felix sniffs and turns back to return to his station.
Minho’s eyes are kind. “He’ll be alright, Fe.”
Felix says nothing, he just shakes his head and goes back to cooking the steaks.
By 8pm, the room is at its full capacity. People fill the hall with chatter and music, clinking
glasses and laughter. In the kitchen, Jeongin has his hands full with the trays that keep going
out to feed the masses and it never seems to be enough. There’s just too many people out
there and only four in the kitchen to feed them. Himself, Felix, Minho and Jisung.
According to Seungmin, it’s like trying to work his way through a massive after-work crowd
in a train station.
Finally, as the evening draws closer to its peak. The work in the kitchen slows down at last
and from where he stands, Jeongin can hear the music being cut and the crackle of a
microphone as Chan’s voice pierces the room.
“Thank you all for coming out tonight.”
Felix sniffs again. He’s shaking where he stands next to Jeongin and he can’t seem to handle
this because he turns around and hides his face in Jeongin’s shoulder. Jeongin can only rub
his back, small solace when Felix’s tears wet and warm his shoulder through the fabric of his
uniform.
He can hear the click of cameras. Hushed voices as Chan thanks them all for their time and
introduces Kaeun to the floor with him. He doesn’t waste any time before finally dropping
the bomb and when it hits, Jeongin is in the perfect position to see everyone’s reactions.
“Kaeun and I are engaged to be wed next year.”
Felix’s arms tighten around Jeongin. Minho’s eyes close and he leans back into Jisung who
has a permanent frown on his face. Through the little window separating the kitchen and the
main room, Jeongin can see Hyunjin and Seungmin standing side by side. Neither of them
have any expression on their faces but they’re both watching where Chan presumably is. A
little further from them, Changbin’s face is glowering with obvious disapproval.
He tunes out then. The microphone is passed to a deep voice and Jeongin can only assume
it’s Chan’s infamous father, congratulating his son and celebrating the joining of two
wondrously illustrious houses such as theirs.
Jeongin can’t help but think back to Kaeun’s words. Are they not in the 21st century? All of
this feels old to him, old traditions upheld by the rich, high society of South Korea. A society
Chan had been born into.
There’s more noise now as reporters ask questions. Mostly about Chan and Kaeun, grasping
for a love story to write in the tabloids. Something to feature on the front page, the glamorous
lives of the rich, the son of the prime minister. Something for the common folk to aspire and
look up to - royalty of their very own.
Jeongin’s attention turns instead to Felix, who is a mess in his arms. He pulls back a little to
look at his face and he feels his heart drop at the sight. Felix is a mess, a beautifully tragic
mess.
“Do you wanna step outside?” he asks with a nod to the back door. “For some air? I’ll come
with you.”
Felix nods. He takes Jeongin’s hand and Jeongin signals to Minho as they make their way
outside. Minho just nods and waves them off.
The night air is cold, refreshing after the stifling heat of the kitchen. Felix takes a deep breath
and Jeongin digs in his pocket for a tissue to give to him. They find a small bench just outside
Chan’s office and sit to look over the back parking lot and the moon shining above them.
A full moon. How fitting.
“I know something Chan thinks I don’t know,” Felix tells him after a moment.
Felix is staring up at the sky and they can’t see the stars here but they can see the moon.
Somehow it’s brighter tonight.
“He’s been trying to keep it from me,” Felix continues. “For my own sake, I think. But I
found out a long time ago.”
Jeongin doesn’t say a word. If Felix isn’t meant to know about it then the chances are that
Jeongin definitely isn’t meant to know about it. He’s curious but at the same time he doesn’t
want to know about anything that might get him killed.
Felix’s hand finds his on the bench and he holds on.
“I was born in Aussie, you see,” Felix sniffs. “My mum had me there. She used to live here in
South Korea. In Seoul.”
Jeongin nods and Felix continues with a gentle voice. “She always told me my dad was the
man who actually raised me. I believed her for years until one day I found these letters she’d
kept in the attic. They were from some legal firm in Korea, threatening to take action against
her should she…”
Then Felix blinks, he stares up at the moon and shakes his head. “She worked for that man.
She was his maid - a cliche story if ever you heard of one. The man was married but none of
that mattered because he…”
Jeongin frowns. He’s just barely following but he doesn’t dare say a word and throw Felix
off. He just listens.
“Anyway, mum got pregnant. The guy found out and threatened legal action should she
ever...you know...go public about it. So she fled the country, went to Australia and had me
there. I was raised with her, my stepfather, two sisters - actually had a pretty good childhood.
Until I wanted to find out who my real father was. I left to look for him and she begged me
not to but I...I had to.”
It’s slowly dawning on Jeongin who he’s talking about.
A sad smile passes over Felix’s face. “I found Chan before I found him. My real father. And
when I saw him I knew what my mother had fled from. I knew why she’d never told me
about him. He’s...he’s terrifying.”
He’s holding Jeongin’s hand so tightly now. His breath comes in quicker as though he’s about
to panic at the memory.
Jeongin swallows hard. “Chan,” he finally says, his voice strangled a little. “Chan is your…”
“Brother,” Felix says with a small smile. “Half brother and he doesn’t know I know.”
“Does he know?” Jeongin can’t help but ask.
Felix nods. “There’s no way he doesn’t. He’s involved in covering up everything his father
does, he knows I’m his brother.”
“And how are you so sure he doesn’t know you know?” Jeongin asks, a little skeptical. “Not
much passes Chan.”
Felix laughs, a watery, tearful laugh that kind of makes him choke but the amusement shines
in his eyes. “Trust me, I know him well enough,” he assures Jeongin. “Chan’s protecting me
from his father. If his father ever finds out that I’m his biological son, I’ll be a footnote in
history. He’ll get rid of me himself. Chan knows I came here looking for my dad and he’s
been pretending to help me find him all this time. But he knows. And I know.”
Jeongin looks down and lets the information churn a little in his head.
“The reason why Kaeun hates you so much is because she thinks Chan is cheating on her
with you,” Jeongin says. Kaeun had mentioned it today with a fierce loathing at the very
thought of Felix. She’d mentioned it because she’d told Jeongin she was glad Chan sent her
him, not Felix.
“And Kaeun is better off thinking I’m his lover, not his brother,” Felix nods. “Because if she
knew the truth, she’d tell his father just to get rid of me anyway. Doesn’t make her any less
scary.”
He squeezes Jeongin’s hand again and takes a deep, shaky breath. The tears have stopped but
he still looks sad.
“Chan deserves better than to be stuck with her,” he says quietly. “Chan deserves better than
his father. He deserves better than all of this. High society like this is a vacuum, a black hole
and by agreeing to marry her, he’s chaining himself to it. That’s not what I want for him.”
Jeongin thinks back to the moment Chan locked him in the freezer and he can’t quite agree
but he doesn’t say so.
Felix just takes another breath and leans over to kiss Jeongin’s cheek. The kiss makes Jeongin
jump in surprise, he hadn’t been expecting it. Then again, Felix is the most affectionate of the
group, maybe he should have expected it.
“Let’s go back inside before Minho has a heart attack,” Felix says as he gets to his feet. He
stretches and turns to look at Jeongin, a new smile on his face. All traces of his tears gone.
“Thanks, Innie.”
Jeongin nods and Felix takes his hand to help him up as well. “Keep my secret with me?”
Jeongin nods again and Felix smiles. “Let’s go back in, then.”
After the announcement, the night starts to wind down. Jeongin’s job in the kitchen then
switches to dishes and by the time the last patron finally leaves the restaurant, his fingers are
all pruned from the water.
They’re all exhausted but they clean and they pack up the restaurant. Jeongin comes out into
the main hall just in time to see Chan at the door with a tall man he can only assume is his
father. He’s seen the prime minister before in newspapers and on the internet but it’s quite
another thing to see the man in person.
He’s about as tall as Chan but bigger. The three-piece navy blue suit he’s wearing only barely
covers the fact that he’s strong and built underneath. He has Chan’s eyes, calculating and
unintentionally soft. That’s how he became prime minister. He looks like the kind of guy
people can trust.
If they only knew the truth.
“Good work, son,” he’s saying to Chan as Jeongin comes out and walks up to Hyunjin who’s
putting the chairs away. “I’ll call you later.”
Chan bows and when the man leaves with his guards, Chan sees him off before finally
closing the front doors of the restaurant. It’s not until they close and lock that Chan finally
leans his head on the wood of the door and lets out a long breath.
“I need whiskey,” he says to no one in particular.
Changbin comes out from where he’d been sweeping. “Got plenty of that at my place,” he
offers. “Bring Fe, we’ll get drunk tonight.”
“I wish I could,” Chan moans and pushes himself off the door. He looks over at Jeongin and
smiles. “Good work today, Innie. I saw the transactions on my card, you kept her in line.”
Jeongin can only nod as Chan comes up to him. Next to him, Hyunjin puts a hand on his
back, as though on guard already.
“There’s something I want to do tomorrow,” Chan tells him, his tone light and conversational.
“And I would very much like it if you were there, Innie. You too, Hyunjin, come with.”
Hyunjin’s eyes narrow but Jeongin can read the tone of his voice. It’s a command, not a
suggestion.
“Of course,” he says, voice a little strangled as he meets Chan’s eyes. “What are we doing?”
Chan’s grin reminds Jeongin of the devil. Especially when he taps his fingers against them.
“It’s a surprise,” Chan promises and with that, he heads for the kitchen - presumably for
Felix.
Left alone, Jeongin turns to look at Hyunjin but Hyunjin just shrugs. He’s as much in the dark
as Jeongin is and that’s not very reassuring.
The sun is high in the sky, not a cloud to be seen as Chan takes Jeongin and Hyunjin to the
last place they imagined.
A cemetery.
The car pulls to a stop and Jeongin shoots a weird look at Hyunjin as he follows Chan out
and looks around. It’s a small plot but unlike most cemeteries Jeongin has ever seen, this one
doesn’t have a lot of tombstones.
Because unlike most cemeteries, it’s one for bodies, not ashes.
“Hyung?” Jeongin asks, his voice thick with uncertainty and premature anxiety as he looks
around. Oh god, is he going to get shot over his open grave today?
Chan just smiles and nods his head towards the middle of the cemetery. “This way.”
Hyunjin’s hand is on the small of his back again. A gentle reminder that he’s there. It’s only a
little comforting as Jeongin follows Chan to a spot where a large, deep, rectangular hole has
already been prepared. But there’s no priest. There is a coffin sitting next to the hole but it
hasn’t been positioned above it yet.
Chan checks the time on his watch and looks around. He lets out a breath. “He should be here
soon.”
Jeongin’s anxiety is spiking now. In his head he’s thinking all sorts of things. From being shot
here to being buried alive. He reaches back to grab Hyunjin’s hand and the other is silent. If
he’s trying to think through all possible scenarios too, he’s doing a better job of covering it up
than Jeongin is.
Then Chan turns around and a brilliant smile flashes as he sees the man approaching them.
“So glad you could make it!”
Jeongin turns just in time to see Chan pull a gun out and shoot the man in his leg.
The shot echoes, it rings out in the cemetery and Jeongin jumps back. The man crumples with
a pained yell. Chan simply puts his gun away and approaches the man to grab his arm and
drag him towards them.
“Innie,” he says as he pushes the man onto his back. “I believe you’ve met Woojin before,
haven’t you?”
Hyunjin sucks in a breath and it’s not until Jeongin looks down and recognises the man that
he realises the same thing. This man is the hacker from the police station, he’s the one who
sent Jeongin to Minji. He’s the leak of the police force, he’s the reason why Hyunjin found
out who Jeongin really is.
The fact that he’s here, with Chan, means…
Jeongin is shaking and pale as he looks up at Chan in horror. Chan knows. It’s all that runs
through his head. He knows, he knows, he knows.
Woojin is still groaning in pain, he’s unable to move. A clean shot to his shin and Jeongin can
remember him helping. He can remember this man telling him, assuring him that he’s going
to cover his tracks. That Chan will never find out because he will change the database itself
to hide him.
He didn’t and instead, he sold him out to Chan himself.
“I don’t understand!” Woojin chokes as he looks up at Chan. “I did everything you asked me
to! I warned you about him!”
“Yes, you were very helpful,” Chan nods and turns to Jeongin. “And Innie, baby, don’t make
that face. You’re not the one lying on the ground with a hole in your leg, he is.”
“Why?” Jeongin can’t help but ask. His voice is choked, shaking with nerves but he has to
know. “I thought you’d-”
“Kill you if I found out?” Chan finishes for him. When Jeongin nods, he shrugs. “I
considered it but in all honesty, I rather like you.”
Hyunjin’s hand isn’t on Jeongin’s back anymore. Instead he’s pushing Jeongin behind
himself, stoic, steady glare at Chan who sighs.
“Hyunjin, if I wanted your little boyfriend dead, I’d have done it ages ago. And for the
record, it hurts that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me before this asswipe could,” he kicks
Woojin who yelps in pain. “But...I can see your reasons.”
Hyunjin doesn’t say anything and Chan nods.
“I know the truth. It’s not the end. Not for you anyway, this guy however…” Chan looks
down at Woojin. “Well…”
Jeongin grips the back of Hyunjin’s shirt and looks down. All this time he’d thought his
father was the one who hadn’t covered his tracks. His father who’d left him to be bait for
Chan but it wasn’t. He feels the slightest sense of relief but it doesn’t override the anger he
feels at Woojin for betraying him like this.
“This is Minji’s funeral,” Chan says with a nod to the coffin. “I thought it best she receive a
proper burial. See, I had a grandmother once too and I loved her. She made sure I was fed
when I was a kid, she always took my side when I came to her to bitch about my father and I
was devastated when she died. I’d have done anything for her.”
Hyunjin and Jeongin watch him but he doesn’t seem to be lying. He seems genuinely angry
about this.
“And the thought that you used this poor old lady for your own ends…” Chan hisses at
Woojin. “Well...it pisses me off in a very special way.”
Woojin squirms. “I’m your mole,” he reminds Chan. “I’m yours! I can still be useful!”
“Of that I’ve no doubt but I’ve already replaced you,” Chan shrugs. He then turns to Jeongin.
“So, what do you want to do with him?”
Jeongin blinks in surprise. “...what?”
Chan nods down at Woojin. “Him,” he says. “What do you want to do with him? After all,
he’s the reason you’re in this mess. Had he done his job properly, none of us would have
known what you are. None of us would have been able to find you. Your initial mission
probably would have gone off without a hitch had he not exposed you....or I’d have found out
another way. Either way, he’s the reason I know what you are, Innie.”
Jeongin looks down at Woojin and in turn, Woojin’s watching him with wide, fearful eyes.
It’s there, in the tranquil peace of the cemetery, with the warmth of the sun and the chirp of
the birds, that something in Jeongin snaps. He feels it too. Just like he felt it when he’d cut
that man’s throat.
It feels familiar too. The same kind of snap he’d felt with all those animals when he was
younger. This man, this thing...it betrayed him.
“Stand him up.”
His voice is so soft, so low that even Hyunjin looks surprised.
Chan leans down and helps Woojin up to his feet. The man moans in pain, his leg is bleeding
and Hyunjin has to hold his other arm to keep him up.
Jeongin nods at Chan’s pocket and Chan uses his free hand to give him the gun. At the sight
of it, Woojin’s face turns white as snow. His eyes wide in fear as Jeongin holds the heavy
device and aims it right at him.
It says a lot that Chan trusts him with such a thing when he could so easily shoot him instead.
“Please,” Woojin begs. “Please...I can still be helpful!”
Hyunjin looks over and notices something. Jeongin’s eyes are dull. As though the shine that’s
usually there has died and what’s left is a shell. That shell is pointing a gun at Woojin and
staring at him as though he’s not even human.
Jeongin doesn’t shoot his chest. Instead he aims down and shoots his other leg instead.
Woojin screams and that’s when Jeongin hands the gun back to Chan and steps forward to
push Woojin right into the hole. He falls and when he lands with a dull thud, Jeongin walks
up to the edge to peer down at him.
His eyes are still dull. Hyunjin’s watching and there’s nothing there. He’s gone and in his
place is this.
Jeongin then nods to the coffin and both Chan and Hyunjin get the hint. The three of them
move the coffin to the hole with Jeongin and Hyunjin holding either side whilst Chan drags
the rear over the straps. They steady it over the hole and all the while, Woojin is screaming.
He can’t get out of the hole, both his legs have been shot and all he can see when he looks up
is this coffin slowly being lowered towards him.
“NO PLEASE, NO! NO!”
The wood of the coffin is slowly placed on him. He grunts with the weight but somehow he
manages to keep screaming even as Chan pulls the straps out and sets them aside.
All the while, Hyunjin is watching Jeongin. He’s never seen this change before though he has
read about it in Jeongin’s medical records. He knew it could happen but seeing it was quite
another story.
Chan grabs a shovel and starts filling in the hole.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” he sings as he packs the dirt in until Woojin’s screams can no
longer be heard.
Hyunjin holds Jeongin’s shoulder and watches his face. The other is watching Chan fill the
hole and it takes a few moments but when he returns, Hyunjin can see it. He sees the light
return to his eyes. Jeongin takes one look at the half filled hole, the blood on the ground and
it catches up to him quickly.
He turns around and vomits in a nearby shrub.
“Well done, Innie,” Chan says, a large smile on his face as he watches Hyunjin hold Jeongin
up to keep him from falling. “Couldn’t have done it better myself.”
Chapter End Notes
My sincerest apologies for the delay in posting! I've noticed this story seems to go with
my mental health so I have to be in a certain space to be able to write at all but I am
always happy when it does come out.
I meant to mention this earlier but any of you who have twitter, feel free to add me and
talk :) I mostly repost stuff but occasionally I post updates to where my next chapters are
going and how close they are so if you're so inclined, feel free to come round. I don't
bite. My handle is @zaramaza
For those of you who asked for a playlist, find the link at the top of the chapter :)
Thank you also for your comments. I hung onto them this entire time I've been
struggling to write. They are lights for any author and I love each and every single one -
even if I suck at responding to them in a timely fashion or at all in some cases.
See you next time! Hopefully soon.
XI EXTRA: Veni Vidi Amavi
Chapter Notes
A warning: This chapter is an EXTRA and mainly features a brief relationship between
Chan and Minho as well as the roots of his meeting with Felix and Minho to the group.
It's not in the tags because it's not actually a ship, it's just something that happened at
this point.

SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
About a year before God’s Menu expanded from it’s Busan beginnings, Jisung fell in love.
He remembers, quite distinctly, the skeptical looks on the faces of both Chan and Changbin
when he’d told them about it.
“Hannie, baby,” Changbin said after a moment of listening to him go on and on about this
beautiful boy he’d set his eyes on. “Have you actually said one word to him?”
Jisung deflates, the stars in his eyes dimming a little as Changbin forcefully wrenches him to
the reality that he’d seen this boy, fallen in love at first sight, but last night he hadn’t had the
nerve to actually go up to him and say hello.
“Well...no…”
Chan hides his grin behind his face, politely trying to remain supportive about this but
Changbin takes a deep breath and shoots the other a bored look. They’ve been over this
before. The last time Jisung fell in love, he wrote poems that he thankfully never read out
loud, he wrote songs, he bugged Chan and Changbin about it for a week before they finally
realised he’d never gathered the courage to approach the guy.
This was turning out to be the same thing all over again.
“Okay, let’s start with a name,” Chan prompts, adjusting himself on the couch to look at
Jisung properly. “What’s his name?”
Jisung answers without missing a beat. “Minho.”
“Last name?” Changbin asks and Jisung shakes his head.
“They never said.”

“They?”
“The um...the announcer,” Jisung answers and both Changbin and Chan notice a lovely rose
blush appearing on his face now. It makes them both instantly suspicious.
“Han...where did you say you saw this boy?” Changbin asks and it’s telling that Jisung
doesn’t immediately answer.
“Um...the Cat’s Cradle…”
Chan bursts out laughing first. He coughs and almost falls off the couch with how hard he’s
laughing. Changbin looks scandalised for a few seconds before he finally finds the humour in
it and laughs as well. Especially when Chan actually falls off the couch and onto the floor.
Jisung pouts. “It’s not funny!”
“It totally is,” Changbin chuckles behind his hand. “Fuck, man, you fell in love with a
stripper.”
Chan can’t talk, he’s too busy laughing. Curled up in a ball on the floor and trying to breathe
through his laughter.
Jisung folds his arms. He waits until they’ve both recovered (until Changbin has recovered,
Chan spends a good ten minutes trying to breathe normally again whilst holding his aching
stomach because he laughed too hard) before he continues. “He’s beautiful.”
“I’ll bet he is,” Changbin rubs the last of the tears from his eyes and leans down to help Chan
back up onto the couch with him. “Fucking hell, Hannie, can’t you pick someone attainable?”
Jisung wilts a little then and it’s actually disarmingly sad. His eyes turn downwards, he
slumps a little and the sight is enough to give both Chan and Changbin pause.
They’ve never taken his crushes seriously. Jisung is the sort of person who falls in love
quickly but he does tend to choose the good ones. The trouble is he never builds the courage
to talk to any of the people he’s fallen in love with and one by one, they dance out of his life
like the missed opportunities they are.
Chan had once commented that if Jisung kept doing this, he was going to be alone for the rest
of his life and Changbin had to wholeheartedly agree. Even though Changbin himself was
often guilty of the same thing - he didn’t fall in love quite as often as Jisung did but when he
did have crushes, the amount of herculean courage he needed to talk to them was almost
always impossible to attain.
“Okay, okay,” Chan finally decides. “Let’s go see your boy.”
Jisung looks up, his eyes wide with terror.
“No, no, no, no, no,” he stammers, suddenly scrambling to his feet as though to stop them
going there this very second. “No, w-we can’t.”
“And why not?” Changbin asks, one eyebrow raised.
Jisung whines. “Because I’ve already been there once this week! He’s gonna think I’m
stalking him!”
“If he even remembers seeing you in the crowd of drooling sugar daddies,” Changbin teases
lightly. Jisung pouts and Chan takes a deep breath.
“Okay, what if I go?” he asks. “Just me. I’ll go, talk to him, see if I can set up a meeting.”
Jisung pales and Changbin leans in. “He’s never gonna know you exist unless you talk to
him.”
“B-but…”
“Hannie, baby, do you remember what happened to the last three people you fell in love
with?” Changbin reminds him. It’s blunt but that stops Jisung in his tracks. He does
remember and every time they waltz out of his life without ever having known he liked them,
he always regrets not talking to them.
Changbin nods, satisfied by the look on Jisung’s face. “Exactly.”
Jisung fidgets and Chan can’t help himself. He’s always doted on Jisung more because of the
three of them, he’s the baby. He’s the one both of them vowed to protect when they first met
him. Now years later and it’s still only the three of them. Until the bitter, bitter end.
“I’ll go, I’ll talk to him, I’ll see if I can get him to meet up with you somewhere,” Chan
promises and Jisung’s smile does nothing to hide the terror in his eyes.
The Cat’s Cradle, despite the cosy name, is the seediest of strip clubs. With an extremely
relaxed restriction at the door and more than a few questionable patrons, it’s tucked away in
the quieter parts of Busan - where police tend to forget to look.
Chan throws on a coat and a black mask to hide his face. He’s the son of a very well known
chaebol. The chances of him being recognised - especially in a place like this - are
uncomfortably high but he does this for Jisung.
That’s what he keeps chanting in his head as he walks into the building, ignores the sticky
mess on the floor and moves towards the stage where the dancers are. For Jisung, all for
Jisung.
He sticks his hands in his pockets and takes a moment to look around. The clientele of this
place are what he’d expected. Mostly old men with nothing better to do than throw their
money at the pretty boys and girls. A couple of businessmen and women but for the most part
the people here are 40+.
He heads to the bar instead and waves his ID to order. He’s just barely of age but the way he
orders gives away that he’s been drinking before he turned twenty.
It’s not his fault that his father had made sure he knew what to do in high society. Made sure
he memorised the wine and alcohol list when he was ten years old. It serves him well now as
a glass is passed to him (beer, they don’t do the fancy shit here) and he sets it in front of him
before turning his gaze to the stage.
The lights change, flickering black and dark pink. The music changes to something a little
more sultry, lounge music and Chan’s eyebrow rises when he watches the boy walking out
onto the stage.
He’s absolutely breathtaking. Even with the cat ears he wears on his head. His eyes have a
slightly feline quality about them and there’s nothing about his clothes that leave anything to
the imagination. His skin is flawless from where Chan is looking. He’s wearing tight leather
pants and a vest that shows the well-kept body beneath it.
Then he grabs the pole and Chan almost spills his drink. Apparently he’s a hit. If the rowdy
crowd throwing cash at him is anything to go by. Chan forgets his beer exists, he hasn’t been
able to take his eyes off Minho since he waltzed onto the stage.
Jisung, he realizes, has exquisite taste.
It takes a flash of his black card to get him into the back room after Minho’s piece is done.
He walks past racks of clothes and other dancers who look up curiously before he finally
finds Minho’s room. As he walks in, he spots Minho sitting at his desk, dabbing at his face
with a cloth and digging out the last of the notes out of his underwear.
His cat eyes flick to Chan and Chan forgets to breathe. Fucking hell.
“Hi,” he manages with a small, strangled voice. He bows a little and reminds himself to
breathe before straightening up again to watch Minho. “I’m-”
“Christopher Bang,” Minho finishes for him. He throws the cloth into the bin and smiles as
he leans back in his chair and crosses one leg over the other. “Hello.”
Chan clears his throat and reaches forward for a handshake, which Minho looks at with a
slightly confused face before he takes it.
“I’m uh...here on behalf of a friend,” Chan continues, ensuring there’s a respectable distance
between him and the half naked boy. “Not to sound like something out of high school but
he’s into you.”
Minho blinks, he doesn’t look entirely surprised and Chan thinks he shouldn’t be either.
Jisung has to be one of MANY who are into him.
“Okay,” Minho finally says, voice soft as he rises to his feet and points to the clothing rack
behind Chan. “Pass me my pants, please.”
Chan turns around and looks over the rack. There are about ten pairs of pants there and he
flounders for a second before Minho’s voice speaks again. “The leather ones.”
Fucking hell, they’re tiny.
Chan coughs as he takes them off the rack and hands them back to Minho who promptly puts
them on. Chan keeps his back turned to be polite but he’s kind of dying to turn around and
look. He would if he didn’t keep reminding himself that he’s here for Jisung, not for himself.
“Okay, turn around,” Minho says and Chan does so. He looks over Minho’s bare chest and
feels himself flush like a stuttering schoolboy. He didn’t even do this WHEN he was a
schoolboy, what the fuck is happening to him?!
“Shirt is behind you too,” Minho grins, clearly enjoying himself as Chan spins around again
and fumbles with the clothing rack until he picks a shirt at random and hands it behind
himself.
He hears Minho pulling his shirt on and clears his throat again. This boy will be the death of
him if this continues.
“I like your tattoo,” he blurts and immediately regrets it. Minho has a lovely little tattoo right
above his belly button. Two swirls and the tiny black outline of a little cat. Chan had looked a
little longer than he meant to.
“Thanks,” Minho giggles. “You can turn around now.”
Chan takes a deep breath, he turns back around to see Minho standing there, fully dressed
now but still a dream. Sex on legs, would be more appropriate. His feline eyes are watching
Chan as though he already knows all his secrets and finds all of them interesting.
“So...about my friend,” Chan continues. “His name is Han...his real name is Jisung...and he’s
adorable…”
He can do this. If nothing else, Chan is great at selling his friends. He can make both
Changbin and Jisung seem like the most amazing people on the planet, he can talk about
them until the cows come home and it’s a nice distraction when he talks and thinks about his
friend. His friend who saw Minho first.
Minho listens, attentive and pretty and when Chan is finally finished, he hums and asks the
one thing Chan didn’t tell him.
“And how old is he?”
Chan hesitates, the age gap isn’t huge but for all intents and purposes, Jisung is a minor. Not
that any of them care about the laws but it does matter sometimes.
“Seventeen.”
Minho laughs. “What’s he doing in a seedy place like this, then?”
Chan shrugs. “Well...watching you, obviously. What are you doing here?”
“Being nineteen and looking for my sugar daddy, thank you very much,” Minho answers
without missing a beat.
Chan raises an eyebrow. “You want a sugar daddy?”
“Yes,” Minho purrs. “I’d like it if money were no longer an issue in my life and I can live
with a nice rich man who’ll spoil me. Sounds like the life to me.”
Chan thinks about the fact that it took a black card to get him back here and he realises Jisung
would have never been able to reach Minho if that were the criteria. Minho deliberately made
it so the only way to talk to him like this is if they’re rich enough to get past the bouncer.
Oh…
“Yes, you get it now, don’t you?” Minho purrs. “And there’s a bonus with you, you’re not
only rich but you’re also my age and hot.”
Chan holds his hands up in defense. “I’m here for Jisung.”
“Yes but you’re into me, I can tell,” Minho purrs. Then he gets up and Chan wants to run but
his back hits the door as Minho saunters up to him and almost pins him to it.
He’s too close. His nose almost brushes against Chan’s and his hands are warm as they slide
up Chan’s chest to hold onto his shoulders. Cat eyes are hooded and dark, paralysing Chan to
the door as he presses against him and breathes in.
“Fuck, you even smell nice,” Minho breathes.
Jisung. Jisung. Jisung.
Chan gently pushes Minho back. He has to remind himself to breathe. He’d somehow
stopped breathing when Minho got too close to him. His head is spinning and he feels a little
dizzy. And, he notes as he glances down, very aroused.
Minho smirks. “I can take care of that for you.”
“No thank you,” Chan huffs, pushing him back a little further. “I told you, I’m here for-”
“Your boy, yes, you said,” Minho rolls his eyes. “Well why can’t he come here himself? Why
send you?”
Chan straightens himself out and wills his boner down. “One, he wouldn’t be able to get past
the bouncer if he needs a black card and two, he’s terrified of talking to people he likes.”
Minho raises an eyebrow and Chan shrugs. “It’s his thing. He’s-”
“Chickenshit.”
“He’s got a bit of growing up to do and I want to help him,” Chan defends gently. “You’d like
him, he’s adorable.”
“He sounds adorable but the thing is he’s not the one standing right in front of me, you are,”
Minho points out.
“One date, go on one date with him,” Chan asks. “Hell, not even a date. Just meet him
somewhere for coffee and you’ll see-”
“Okay.”
Chan blinks. He’d expected that to be a little harder. He watches Minho, surprised and asks:
“....okay? Really? You’ll meet him?”
Minho nods. “On one condition.”
Chan’s stomach drops when he sees the look Minho’s giving him. How the fuck is he
supposed to say no to this?
“One date with me and I’ll meet him,” Minho bargains. “I want movies and dinner.”
Chan groans. “I’m here for Jisung, not for me.”
“Jisung never need know,” Minho smirks, he seems to be enjoying the power he has over
Chan. It’s completely disorienting because Chan’s used to being in control of everything -
especially his hormones and emotions.
One meeting with Minho threw all of that hard earned control back in his face and proved
he’s in control of nothing. Especially not his feelings or his dick.
“Please,” Chan begs. “I can’t...I’d be betraying Jisung-”
“What, did he claim dibs?” Minho scoffs and walks a little closer. Chan takes a step back but
his back hits the door again. Stupid tiny dressing room. Minho stops in front of him and
places a hand on his chest.
His eyes are so dark. So beautiful, against his better judgement, Chan is captivated by them.
“One date,” Minho says. “Buy me flowers, take me out, I promise not to kiss you unless you
want me to. You can go through that whole date without ever betraying your boy.”
It’s like the devil whispering in his ear. So tempting, so, so tempting and with each second
Chan stares at Minho’s face, Jisung’s name starts to fade in his mind.
One date. It doesn’t even have to be a date, it could just be two guys hanging out. Going to
the movies and for a bite to eat, it doesn’t have to be a date and if it’s not a date, he’s not
doing anything wrong.
At least...that’s what he’s telling himself.
“Don’t tell Han.”
Minho’s smile is beautiful. It warms Chan from the inside out when he whispers.
“I promise.”
“A golden rose?” Minho grins when he meets Chan at the movie theatre. It’s in the upscale
part of town, people in suits and dresses are milling in and out of the theatre as though it were
the opera and not the most expensive movie complex in Busan.
Chan had to talk to Changbin before coming here. He’d told him the deal and voiced his
concerns about betraying Jisung somehow but Changbin, surprisingly, held the same view as
Minho on the matter.
“You’re doing this FOR Jisung,” he reminded him with a pat on his shoulder. “And it’s not as
though Han and Minho are dating anyway so he’s free pickings at this point. They haven’t
even met.”
Chan blanched. “Yeah but Han-”
“What Han doesn’t know, won’t kill him. I’ll keep him busy tonight, you do your thing and
set up a date for him with Minho later,” Changbin said, his voice firm and stable - just what
Chan needed to silence the doubts in his mind. “Besides, they might not even hit it off in
which case your date with Minho will mean absolutely nothing.”
Chan nods, he supposes that’s true. There’s no telling how Minho will actually react to
Jisung, maybe it’s just infatuation on one side.
“Is he hot?”
Chan nods and Changbin shrugs. “Well, have a good night.”
Minho looks gorgeous. He’s dressed in a black silk shirt that seems to make him look
ethereal. His hair is teased with little purple streaks between dark curls. He smells divine and
the jeans he’s wearing make his legs look so, so long. Chan had to remember to breathe when
he first saw him.
Now he’s standing there with a golden glass rose that Chan had brought for him, with a smile
that warms Chan from the inside out.
“You said you wanted flowers.”
“And you have excellent taste,” Minho grins. He holds out his hand and Chan offers his arm
to lead him into the theatre.
They settle for a horror movie. Minho didn’t like the other movies on offer and Chan wasn’t
exactly picky. It turns out to be a good idea in the end because although the plotline is
horrendously thin, the jumpscares get old fast and the dialogue is cringeworthy at best, Chan
finds himself genuinely enjoying Minho’s company.
Especially when they start giggling at the people around them everytime they somehow get
scared at the predictable jumpscares.
“Bet you 20,000 won the lady in the row in front of us is gonna jump so hard her popcorn
will land on us,” Minho whispers. He has one leg draped over the other and he’s leaning into
Chan’s side with the popcorn between them.
Chan tries not to get distracted by the sight of Minho slipping popcorn between his lips and
looks at the woman in front of them. She’s holding her box of popcorn rather tightly, her eyes
glued to the screen that Chan has long since stopped paying attention to but she hasn’t thrown
her popcorn around yet. Unlike most of the other people around them.
“Bet.”
The next scare happens quickly. A clown jumps out from behind the door and scares the
stupid girl who decided to go looking without at least turning the light on. The sound of the
shrill violin is scarier than the actual scene but it’s enough that the woman in front of them
shrieks and the popcorn in her hand goes flying.
Minho laughs as most of it lands on Chan’s head. He picks one off, chucks it in his mouth
and holds out his hand.
“Pay up.”
After the movie, Chan opts to walk Minho to the restaurant. It’s not that far and the night is
rather warm. On the way, Minho tells him about his work and how much he earns a night.
Chan notes that he deliberately strays from the questions any other person in his position
might have asked. After all, his life is a private one - with a father like his, it has to be.
Reporters and people who went to school with him certainly had no problem asking invasive
questions like how much does his family make a year, how big is his room, when did his
father buy him his first car (never because Chan wanted to buy his own car, thank you very
much).
But Minho doesn’t ask about his life. Not that part anyway. He keeps away from it, for which
Chan is grateful.
“It depends on the night but most nights I walk away with a sizable take,” Minho explains,
his golden rose between his fingers as he falls into step with Chan. “The job is nothing to
sniff at either. I stay fit, meet interesting people and make money. It’s not a bad life.”
“I’ll bet,” Chan smiles. “Met any sugar daddies yet?”
“Just one I’m interested in,” Minho answers, his eyes deliberately on Chan and Chan has to
look away.
Think of Jisung. Think of Jisung.
The restaurant Chan picked is also on the upscale side of things. He’d figured that Minho,
being one who was on the lookout for sugar daddies, would like an expensive date and so
Chan was all too happy to deliver - if it made Minho happy enough to meet Jisung later.
The walls of the restaurant are actually tanks with water and bubbles that rise from the floor.
The floors are freshly polished, not a speck of dust in sight. The layout of the restaurant errs
on the jazzy side with purple and black lighting that lines the wall of the bars, cosy booth
seats with enough privacy for all customers to dine in peace without having to worry about
others.
The smile on Minho’s face is not hidden as they’re led inside and taken to their seats.
“I bet you do this with all your dates,” he teases as they sit down and he makes a point of
carefully setting his glass flower down on the table so as not to accidentally break it.
Chan chuckles but in all honesty, he can’t remember the last time he actually dated. He’s
never been interested for one thing but for another, it’s hard to find anyone who isn’t
interested in him because of who his father is. And how rich his family is. Minho makes no
secret, he’s attracted to him because of his money but since he’s what Jisung wants, Chan’s
happy enough to go along with it.
Not at all because Chan too has the hots for Minho. No. Absolutely not.
Chan picks up the menu and blanches when he sees most of it is in French. Fuck. He’d
forgotten the snobbier restaurants tend to do that, as if French is an indication of high class.
He’s fully prepared to order for them both when Minho points at his menu and hums.
“I think I’ll have the langoustines.”
Chan gapes. “You can read that?”
To which Minho just smirks at him and leans forward. “You’re not the only one with secrets,
pretty boy.”
Jesus, fucking Christ how the fuck is he supposed to survive this night?
They order and Minho once again surprises Chan when he pronounces all the French words
beautifully. The waiter takes their menus and Chan raises an eyebrow at him.
Minho blinks. “What?”
“Explain,” Chan says. “I understand French because I’m a rich boy who had to learn it in the
Australian Catholic school I went to. What’s your excuse?”
Minho laughs and Chan thinks he could listen to him laugh for hours. It’s a beautiful sound to
him and it keeps warming him. God, he can see what Jisung saw in this guy and it’s such a
shame Jisung couldn’t talk to him himself. He’d love all these little bits of him that keep
surprising Chan. The random French, the way he giggles at other people being terrified of the
movie, the fact that he keeps sniffing the glass rose even though he knows it doesn’t smell
like anything.
“I’ve always liked languages,” Minho explains with a small smile playing on his lips. “But
I’m kind of shit at them and I never have time to learn. In my free time, I play apps, watch
movies, pick up little bits and pieces here and there.”
“You knew enough to read that menu and pronounce it,” Chan reminds him. “Are you telling
me that all came from self study?”
“Not all of us can afford to be sent off to Australia to learn French,” Minho points out.
“Besides, why French in Australia? Don’t they speak English there?”
“They do but the school was all about saying your hail Mary’s in French,” Chan shrugs. “I’m
not Catholic but the school I went to sure as hell was.”
He decides he likes Minho’s smile. He likes his eyes. Fuck, he’s starting to like everything
about him, this date was a terrible idea. It’s rare that Chan meets someone who just makes
him feel so...comfortable. So far, the only people who have done that are Changbin and
Jisung and even that comes with a certain caveat.
Changbin and Jisung are both younger than him for starters, so Chan has always felt a certain
obligation to keep them both out of trouble. He’s protective over them both in the same way a
big brother would be and as much as he’s comfortable with them, he can’t be vulnerable
around them. He can’t be vulnerable with anyone, no one’s allowed to see his weak points.
Except Minho’s already seen one. Chan’s been fumbling and blushing and giggling like a
lovesick teenager since this date began. It’s a weak side no one else has ever seen before. Not
even Changbin and Jisung.
The conversation flows easier after the wine arrives. Minho’s surprisingly open about the
information he shares to Chan. He tells him about his family, where he came from and
although he’s vague on the details (Chan surmises his relationship with his parents isn’t the
best but then again, who does have a good relationship with their parents? Certainly no one
he’s ever met) Minho’s voice is soft, never wavering even as he speaks of them.
He’s open about his line of work as well, he seems happy to be there - even though the
ultimate end goal is to find a sugar daddy to look after him for the rest of his life. Even that
part he’s honest about and it’s refreshing to Chan - who’s so used to people lying to him
because they think that’ll get them in his good graces faster.
Little by little, Chan can feel the walls he’s been putting up all his life being gently taken
down, brick by brick, by Minho.
“You’re too far away,” Minho points out halfway through their meal.
Chan looks up. Their booth is secluded, like all the other booths but he’s got a point. The
table is a little big for them both and he’s on the other side of the booth. It’s deliberately set
that way so they can look at each other across the table as they eat, but there is space next to
Minho.
So Chan pushes his plate to the spot next to Minho and shuffles around the booth until he’s
sitting next to him.
Minho smiles. “Perfect, now you’re in firing range.”
“What-”
Minho places a pea on his fork, takes aim and fires one right between Chan’s eyes.
At first it shocks Chan. They’re in a high class restaurant, no one does food fights here. But
then Minho’s laughing and Chan finds the whole thing hilarious too because he throws the
pea back and loads his fork with four more to aim at Minho.
It’s all shrieks and laughter then. Minho keeps trying to squirm away from Chan whilst
throwing his own food back and Chan is relentlessly using his fork as a slingshot. They get
peas all over the place and by the end of the meal, it’s a miracle they’re not asked to leave.
By the time they finally step out of the restaurant, the cool night air bites hard enough that
Chan shrugs off his jacket and puts it around Minho instead.
“Thanks,” Minho grins, his nose is all pink and there’s a pea in his hair. Chan doesn’t think
he’s ever seen anything cuter in his life.
This is it then. The end of the date. They’ve gone to the movies, to the restaurant, Chan even
gave Minho flowers, this is the perfect time to end it with a time and place for Jisung to meet
Minho as promised.
But as the two of them stop on the curb and stare at each other, Chan is all too aware that
neither seem to want the night to end. He certainly doesn’t and Minho doesn’t make any
noises about needing to go home, he just watches Chan. Eyes shining, holding his rose,
looking absolutely...smitten.
It isn’t Chan who leans in first.
Minho tastes like the aftermint they gave at the restaurant. His lips are soft and warm against
the cool air of the night. The scent of Chan’s cologne permeates from the jacket Minho’s
wearing and all Chan can think is that Minho smells like him now. Like in some weird,
animalistic way, he’s marked him.
The thought should make him feel guilty but it doesn’t. Instead he feels guilty for taking
some pleasure in the thought of Minho smelling like him.
When they pull back, Minho’s hand reaches out to grab Chan’s. He stays close enough for
their lips to brush and Chan’s head is so dizzy with need. He’s never been around someone
who just makes him...want. Want everything. Intimacy, sure, but also the connection he’s
been feeling ever since he first laid eyes on him. He feels so at ease and he didn’t even realise
he’d been walking around with these walls around him until Minho pulled them down and
told him it’s alright to say anything to him.
But…
“Jisung,” he mutters against Minho’s lips.
Minho nods. “I’ll keep my promise and meet him tomorrow for lunch,” he whispers and
squeezes his hand. “But stay with me tonight.”
Chan can think of a million reasons to say no. Starting with Jisung and ending with the fact
that there simply is no future with him. Not for Minho, not for anyone who wants to start
something with him. All this will be is a one night stand because it can never go any further.
Because of who he is. Because of who his father is.
But for all the reasons he can think of to stop himself, he thinks of the one reason to say yes.
Because for once, just for once, this is something he wants for himself.
Minho kisses him again and all thoughts of saying no fly out of his mind.
Minho’s apartment is a tiny little box on the third floor of a building Chan would have had
demolished had he seen it first. The elevator stopped working about ten years ago so they
take the stairs up to this one room apartment where everything but the bathroom is stuffed in
a tiny little room.
“Holy fuck,” Chan breathes. He knows he’s seen the rich and glamorous lifestyle but even
this is beyond what he thought living paycheck to paycheck looked like.
Minho nods. “See why I need a sugar daddy?”
“Fuck the sugar daddy, you need an exterminator,” Chan huffs as he looks around. “Or a
priest.”
Minho huffs. “Don’t step on the cats.”
“What cat-AH!” Chan shrieks as a furry thing passes by his ankles. He turns in time to see it
wriggle under the table.
“Let’s fuck the sugar daddy first and then we’ll talk about an exterminator,” Minho suggests
as Chan turns around to wrap his arms around his waist. Minho leans into him so easily and
starts pushing him back towards his tiny bed.
Chan lands back on it with a breathless laugh. “Am I your sugar daddy now?”
Fuck, Minho’s taking off his shirt and Chan’s fingers grip the blankets underneath him. He
doesn’t know how he’s going to stay sane tonight, he can barely think about anything else.
“No, you’re not the sugar daddy,” Minho promises as he climbs over Chan and starts pulling
at his shirt. “You’re just Chris.”
Chan chokes. No one’s called him that since he left Australia. Normally he’d be adverse to it
but when Minho says it, it sounds like a term of endearment. He leans up for a kiss and helps
Minho with unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off.
Minho’s back is like silk, Chan runs his fingers along his skin and Minho kisses like he’s
trying to suck the air out of his lungs. Chan’s mind is fuzzy, dizzy with need, his breath starts
coming out in little gasps, especially when Minho starts grinding down on his lap with intent.
“Fuck,” he hisses, his hands coming down to grip Minho’s waist. “Slow down.”
Minho giggles and it reminds Chan of the carvings of Satan he’d seen in his textbooks. Don’t
forgive me father, I don’t give a fuck that I’m about to sin.
His tongue is in a dance with Minho’s, hands dipping under Minho’s waistband to feel heated
skin. Before long, Minho reaches down to undo his belt and the two fumble for a little,
undressing themselves completely before Minho has Chan pinned down on his back whilst
he’s sitting on his lap.
Then Minho takes two of Chan’s fingers, puts them in his mouth and swirls his tongue
around the digits. Chan stares in shock, he’s about to lose it when Minho then takes Chan’s
wrist and guides his fingers south.
They kiss, Chan doesn’t need instruction on this part. Instead he takes the lead, one arm
holding Minho onto his lap whilst the other is sliding his fingers into Minho. He swallows all
of Minho’s gasps and whimpers, taking pleasure in stabbing until he finds that spot that has
Minho paralysed on him, grinding down desperately and gasping his English name over and
over.
Then Minho pushes his hand away, sits himself up, positions himself and slams himself down
so hard that both of them scream.
Chan’s face hides in Minho’s chest. His arms are wrapped around him at first. He can feel
Minho’s breathing, his chest rising and falling as they both take a moment to get used to the
feeling of being joined. Chan lifts his head, he looks up and he can see Minho looking down
at him, smiling and even laughing breathlessly.
Minho snaps his hips, he rides and Chan holds on for dear life. He grabs his waist, lies down
when Minho pushes on his chest and watches Minho’s hips snap back and forth. The
movement is hypnotic, his body is definitely that of a dancers because he’s so flexible. His
head tilted back in reckless abandon, his mouth ajar, snapping his hips against Chan’s so hard
that all Chan can feel, taste, hear is him.
“Chris,” Minho gasps and his hips start to get a little erratic. Chan can feel it too, he’s so
fucking close.
“Say it again,” he begs.
“Chris, fuck me,” Minho whimpers and Chan sits up, he wraps his arms around Minho and
flips them over so quickly that Minho lands on his back with a gasp. His arms are tight
around Chan and he’s all but screaming as Chan gains the upper hand and starts fucking into
him so hard they’re both seeing stars.
Minho comes with a choking sob, his entire body stiffens and Chan holds him through it.
He’s gritting his teeth, he’s so, so close and Minho’s walls are holding him still. Then Minho
kisses his ear, holds him close and Chan pants as the last three thrusts finally bring him over
the edge too.
Afterwards, they lie side by side. It’s a squish considering Minho’s tiny bed but somehow
they manage it.
The one thing Minho’s apartment has going for it is the large window right next to his bed. It
offers a view of the city and the lights are calming somehow.
“Fuck me,” Minho mutters once he gets his breathing back to normal. “You’ve had some
practice.”
Chan chuckles and shakes his head. “Nothing that lasted. Nothing can last with me.”
Minho goes quiet then. He turns his head to look at Chan and in those eyes, Chan can see he
understands why. Nothing is ever going to last with Chan. Not in his world, not without his
father’s approval.
“I was a virgin until my last boyfriend,” Minho says easily.
“Yeah?” Chan asks, eager to get off the topic of his life as usual.
“Yeah,” Minho nods. “He’s an asshole and we fight like a divorced couple now but...yeah.”
Chan hums and turns his eyes back to the city lights. He feels so...at peace. So warm. He
never feels so comfortable in other people’s beds but here he is and he can’t imagine being
anywhere else. Right now, there’s nowhere else he wants to be.
As if reading his mind, Minho slips his hand into his and holds on tight. He squeezes and
Chan squeezes back.
“No matter what happens tomorrow, we have tonight,” Minho promises him.
Chan closes his eyes and feels Minho’s kiss on his cheek, his body hugging his side. They
have tonight.
“Han, Minho. Minho, Han,” Chan says when he arrives at the cafe.
As promised, Minho is sitting there dressed in a nice white shirt and black pants. He looks
divine and Chan notes the scarf around Minho’s throat is covering love bites he’d made last
night.
Shit, maybe them meeting the day after wasn’t the best idea.
Jisung is a nervous wreck. His smile disarming as he stutters his hello but Minho, thank god,
is smoother with his introduction. Chan pats Jisung’s shoulder and heads off, promising to
leave them to it. He walks out of the cafe feeling Minho’s cat eyes on him. He doesn’t look
back.
Over the next few weeks, Chan busies himself with business. Gods Menu is in talks of
branching out from Busan. Maybe another restaurant in Seoul, maybe one in Daegu. If
they’re lucky, they might even be able to plant one in Jeju. The endless meetings, the flights
out to look at possible restaurant sites, the endless planning keeps Chan busy. Keeps his mind
off Minho.
Over that time, Jisung unexpectedly hits it off with Minho. He’s absent from their work a lot
more but both Chan and Changbin allow it. Jisung is a fool when he’s in love and he’s so
besotted by Minho. Somehow he managed to get a second date, then a third, then most nights
he didn’t even come home.
“I think it’s serious,” Changbin notes after a while. “I saw Han looking up tattoo places.”
Chan blanches. “Tattoos? Really? Are they gonna be that cringy couple who get their names
tattooed on their fingers?”
“Or their asses,” Changbin laughs. Chan laughs with him but his heart isn’t in it.
He honestly had not expected Jisung and Minho to get on so well. He’s happy for them of
course, all of this was for Jisung. He tucks away the tiny little voice in his head that tells him
he’d lost the only person he felt a true connection to.
For Jisung’s sake, he can’t listen to that voice.
Three months after Jisung and Minho meet, Chan comes back from a red eye flight from LA.
He walks into his shared apartment with Changbin and Jisung, tired and jetlagged when he
sees Minho standing there in the entranceway.
He pauses and looks around. “Where’s Han?”
“He went out to get some ice cream,” Minho says with a small smile. “We ran out.”
Chan nods and he can’t help but notice Minho looks just as breathtaking now as he did the
first time he saw him. Even now, standing there with a snug white knit sweater and grey
sweatpants with messy bed hair, he looks beautiful.
“Bin?”
Minho nods to the room down the hall. “Asleep, he had a long day.”
Chan can relate. He picks his suitcase up and starts carrying it back to his room. He doesn’t
expect Minho to follow but when he walks into his room and puts the bag down, Minho’s
standing there in the doorway with a look on his face that says something’s on his mind.
Chan frowns. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Minho mutters, he glances behind himself for a moment and walks into Chan’s
room, he closes the door behind him and lets out a shaky breath. “Well no, not really.”
Alone in a room with Minho. Chan makes a point of keeping a fair distance between them
and goes to the windowsill instead to lean on it.
“What’s wrong?”
Minho bites his lip. He’s quiet for a moment, fidgeting and looking down at the floor. The
contrast between this soft, fluffy Minho with sweater paws and the Minho who’d been
stripping in the Cat’s Cradle is staggering.
“I really like Han,” he finally confesses. “You’re right. He’s everything you said he was and
more. I didn’t even expect I’d want a second date or a third one but…”
But he did. Chan smiles. “I’m happy for you.”
Then Minho looks up and shakes his head. “Don’t lie to me, Chris,” he whispers. “I may not
have been around you long enough but I think I know you. And I know when you’re lying to
me.”
Chan falters. Minho isn’t wrong. There’s a part of him that isn’t happy at all that they hit it
off so well. There’s a part of him that wanted Minho for himself but he’s spent the last three
months silencing that part.
Makes sense that after stifling it down so far and so deep in his psyche, only Minho can still
see it there.
“I am, happy for you,” Chan repeats, his voice more earnest as he meets Minho’s eyes. “I am.
Han’s a catch, you’ve landed a really good guy.”
Minho nods, waiting for the but.
“But...you’re right,” Chan finally continues. “I’m not...entirely happy for you. But that’s a
selfish part of me, ignore it.”
Minho shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” Chan says. “I’m really not. I’ll put Han and Changbin before me always and if
Han is happy with you and you’re happy with Han...then my blessings on you both. If you
want to get married, I’ll pay for your trip and honeymoon to any country that legalises same-
sex marriage.”
Minho chuckles but his mirth doesn’t reach his eyes. Chan can see it, he feels guilty.
Despite his intent to keep a distance between them, Chan pushes himself off the windowsill
and walks up to Minho. He pulls him into a hug and feels Minho sink into him so easily. Like
a long-lost puzzle piece and Chan feels a calm wash over him having him so close like this.
“There’s no life with me anyway,” Chan whispers into his hair. “Because of who I am. Who
my father is. What his expectations are. I’m happy you’re happy with Han, I really am
because you’d be miserable with me.”
Minho’s hand grasps Chan’s shirt gently, as though for comfort. “But you shouldn’t have to
be alone through all of that,” he mumbles. “You deserve someone who understands you,
someone you can be at ease around.”
Someone like you, Chan thinks but Minho never says it. Minho isn’t allowed to say it, he’s
not his and he never was.
“Be happy with Han,” Chan tells him. “I’ve never seen him so annoyingly happy with
anyone, you make him sing in the shower, he gets up early these days, he even makes his bed,
you’ve changed him!”
Minho pulls back with a choked laugh and Chan realises he’s been crying. He reaches
forward and brushes the tears from his cheeks with his thumb. Gentle and soft, like Minho.
“Don’t worry about me,” Chan says and his smile reaches his eyes. “Promise. We’ll be
friends, we’ll be those friends who throw popcorn at people and get ourselves kicked out of
theatres and high class restaurants, we’ll be those friends with all the inside jokes.”
That gets Minho to laugh. No more tears now, instead his amusement shines in his eyes.
“Come on,” he says. “I’m jetlagged and my body thinks it’s 1pm, let’s watch shitty
infomercials until Han gets back with ice cream.”
Minho kisses him on the cheek and they head back out into the living room. They watch
crappy TV, commenting on the salespeople trying to sell them devices they’ll never need
until Jisung finally stumbles in with two bags of ice cream.
“Babe!” Minho chokes when he sees them. “We only needed two pottles!”
But Jisung smiles, he looks so proud of himself that Chan can’t help but laugh.
“There was a sale!” Jisung announces proudly. “Two for the price of three! It was a bargain!”
Chan loses it then, laughing into his knees as Minho tries to tell Jisung he’s been ripped off,
then lets him have his moment because he’ll never figure it out anyway.
Another month passes. More meetings, more flights all around Korea whilst he builds his
steady empire of Gods Menu.
It’s on a quiet Friday night, when Jisung is out on a date with Minho and Changbin is out in a
meeting in Jeju, that Chan finally has the night off.
He feels restless at home, thoughts of Minho are being pushed so far back into his
subconscious that he barely even realises it’s there anymore. He heads out into the cool air for
a walk and finds himself coincidentally in a small shopping district near his apartment. It’s
alive on a Friday night, tourists wandering around looking for trinkets to take home, locals
heading home and some heading to the pub,
Chan wanders into an English-styled pub. The kind with the TV positioned in the corner of
the bar, the stale air of beer and the noisy sound of avid soccer fans. He slides onto a stool
and orders himself a drink when he notices the boy just two stools away from him struggling
to order from the Korean menu.
“No, no, I meant I want a...um...oh shit.”
Australian. Chan’s ears pick the accent very quickly and when he looks over, he notes the kid
is definitely underaged. About Jisung’s age with short brown silky hair, dressed in a blue t-
shirt, shorts with a large backpack tucked under the stool.
He’s never been one to let foreigners suffer, especially Australians so he slides over and looks
over the menu.
“Hey mate, what did you want?” he asks, letting his English and Australian accent ease the
poor boy -who looks like he was about to panic.
“Oh,” the boy blinks at him. “Um, thank god, what’s this?”
He points and Chan turns to the bartender. “He’ll have a shochu on the rocks.”
The bartender seems relieved and wanders off to fill the order. Chan puts the menu down and
looks to the boy who still looks so relieved someone saved him.
“Australian boy in an English pub, in Korea ordering a Japanese drink,” Chan starts the
conversation with a hum. “Aren’t you confusing?”
The boy laughs, it breaks the ice immediately because he nods and he looks a lot less nervous
than before.
“I didn’t think about it that way but...good point,” he beams and holds out his hand. “I’m
Felix, Lee Felix.”
Chan shakes his hand with a smile. “Chris, everyone calls me Chan”
“Chan, then,” Felix nods and lets go of his hand. He then looks around, as though realising
something. “I’m sorry...were you with anyone?”
“Oh no, I’m here alone,” Chan promises. “You?”
“Alone,” Felix grins. “Haven’t been here long. I thought I knew enough Korean to at least
order a drink but it turns out I don’t even know enough to ask where the bathroom is.”
“How old are you?” Chan can’t help but ask. “Not that I care about the law but do you know
the drinking age is higher here than it is in Aussie?”
“Shit, it is?” Felix gapes. “What’s the legal age here?”
“Twenty.”
“Fuck.”
Chan laughs. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”
The bartender doesn’t seem to care either because he plants the drink in front of Felix before
wandering off to tend to the other patrons.
They get to talking then. Felix is only too happy to tell Chan where he came from, how long
he’s been in Korea but it’s the why part that gets Chan.
“Your father?”
Felix nods. “I don’t have much to go on but he’s somewhere in this city. Probably one of the
thousands of businessmen I saw today...it was a dumb idea coming here. He’s never seen me
in his life, he didn’t bother to come back for me but...you know? I wonder if one day I’ll just
see him in a crowd and just...know. That’s my dad.”
It pings an old memory in Chan’s head. One he saw when he was sorting through his father’s
office in his last year of high school. He’d found a lot of documents, copies of legal letters
sent overseas and there was one in particular that caught his eye. A cease and desist letter
sent out to a woman with the last name Lee.
Could be coincidence. Easily. Lee is a terribly common name but something’s off, something
keeps pinging in Chan’s mind. Like this is something he ought to know.
“Did you know what your dad’s name is?” he inquires.
Felix shakes his head. “Like I said, this was a dumb idea. Mum never told me anything about
him.”
“Well…” Chan frowns. “Do you have anything to go on? Anything at all? Busan is a huge
city, how do you ever expect to find someone here?”
Felix digs something out of his pocket and hands him a very old business card. When Chan
looks over it, he sees the name has long since been scratched out but the other details are still
there - albeit faint due to sun exposure.
Head of Directors.
Uisim Inc.
It hits Chan like a bolt of lightning. Uisim is a company that went down 17 years ago after a
bankruptcy. They only ever had one Head of Directors position and one person who filled it
from its founding to its end.
His father.
The cease and desist letter was threatening a woman. Threatening that if she did not drop the
case of her unborn child and any affiliation to his father, they would take legal action. Since
then, she disappeared off the face of the planet.
Only she didn’t. She went to Australia and had her baby. His father’s baby. His half brother
who is sitting right in front of him.
Chan almost falls off his seat.
He clears his throat instead and gives the card back. “Uisim Inc went down ages ago,” he
informs him “They went bankrupt.”
“Really?” Felix says, eyes wide as he puts the card back in his pocket. “Is there any way to
find out who the Head of Directors was before it went down?”
Chan’s mind is racing. His father cannot know about Felix. Especially now that he’s the
Prime Minister and it had taken so much gambling, so many back alley deals to get him
there. One scandal would derail him and Felix is enough to stain his reputation from here to
kingdom come. If he ever finds him, he’ll stomp Felix out of existence so fast, he won’t even
realise he’s been assassinated.
“Tell you what,” Chan says after a long moment of thinking. “I’ll come with you to the
library tomorrow and I’ll help you look through the records.”
Felix perks right up. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Chan promises and he smiles but his mind is still reeling. “I promise.”
Felix makes him pinky swear and as Chan looks at him, bright eyes, big smile and pinky
wrapped around his, he feels a tug. A familiar tug. He’d felt it with Changbin and Jisung, a
need to protect. Only this is moreso, this is his brother and if he can find some fake deceased
father to pass off as Felix’s father, his own father need never be suspicious of him.
Fuck father, what have you done?!
Felix is none-the-wiser as they exchange numbers and Chan walks him to his hotel. They say
their goodnights and as Chan watches Felix leave, he feels those walls climbing to protect
him again. Shield him and those he loves.
He closes his eyes and feels the night wind rustle his hair. The walls close in, locking him in,
protecting him and locking everyone else out. He needs to be Chan who protects those he
loves and to do that, he needs the walls.
And with each step back home, he feels the suffocating air less and less until finally, it’s
gone.
PRESENT DAY
Chan walks in through the backdoor of Gods Menu and the first thing he hears is Minho’s
voice, loud and angry.
“For fucks sake, Seungmin! I told you to sweep the floor, what do you call this?!”
He grins at the sound and leans on the door to watch through the little window between the
kitchen and main room as Seungmin dodges Minho, who now has the broom and is chasing
him around the main room with it.
“Hey,” Felix says, bouncing up to him. “Where were you today? You missed an epic fight.”
“By the looks of it, I came just in time to see the end of it,” Chan notes, nodding to what he
can see of the broom flying around the room and eventually whacking Seungmin in the back.
He can’t stop thinking about what he’d seen that day. He’d seen Jeongin, sweet little Jeongin,
shut down. He’d seen the light leave his eyes and he’s only ever seen that behaviour once
before.
Maybe it’s not such a good idea to leave Hyunjin and Jeongin alone. They have the same
habits, no wonder they get along so well.
Minho bursts through the door, red in the face. The broom is broken now, he has one half
whilst Seungmin has the other half and is rubbing his back with his other hand.
“I’ll add a new broom to my grocery list this week,” Chan says as Minho chucks the broom
away and puts as much distance between himself and Seungmin as he can.
Felix chuckles and goes back to his station. Seungmin seems content to stay and sulk in his
corner as well as Minho walks up to Chan and sighs.
“Sorry, I’ll buy a new broom-”
“Let me,” Chan grins. “We needed a new one anyway, that one was getting old.”
Minho looks at him and Chan feels his stomach flip. Just a little. He’s spent so long squishing
those feelings down that a tiny flip is all he’s capable of doing by now.
“Thanks, Chris,” Minho smiles, he heads back into the main room a lot calmer and Chan
watches him go.
That flip in his stomach is dull now. Barely enough for him to really notice it’s there. The
pain is dull too. Chan barely feels a thing as he watches Jisung appear in the main room, rush
to Minho and pick him up. He spins him around and around, Minho’s pretty laughter filling
the empty room.
His eyes flick to Felix and when the other notices him looking, he smiles.
All around him, the walls are concrete. Keeping his feelings, his thoughts, everything he is,
inside. Safe, so he can do what he needs to do without emotion.
As it should be.
Chapter End Notes
Welcome back!
Honestly, I contemplated not ever putting this chapter up but to be honest it serves the
plot better if you see a bit of how Chan ticks and the relationship he has with the others.
It's still part of the main story of course, but I broke my own heart writing it so...there's
that.
I love you all and will see you when the main plot continues next chapter!
XII EXTRA: Vivamus Moriendum Est
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
Ế
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
They meet in Ahopsan forest when they’re six.
Their schools had coincidentally decided that Friday was the best time for the school trip. All
the kids were given bucket hats for the weather and a little flag (so the teachers could keep
track of them)
They’re told to form a line of two. Girls on the right, boys on the left and Seungmin, being
six years old and naturally a good boy, hurries to follow the order. He’s excited, it’s his first
school trip ever and he’d spent the entire night being too excited to sleep.
The Ahopsan forest is beautiful. Tall, towering bamboo trees as far as the eye can see. The
leaves cast a strange green glow that turns a yellowish whenever the sun peeks through
leaves. It leaves pretty shadows on the ground and Seungmin is giddy with excitement.
This beats a classroom. Hands down. He’d rather be anywhere than stuck in a smelly
classroom having to learn things that never stick in his head. Being outside, being here in the
sweetest fresh air is enough to put an energetic bounce in Seungmin’s step as the teachers
count the students and keep them in line before they can enter.
They’re not even in the forest yet. They’re just outside. The head teacher is sorting out
something with the reception desk. Seungmin bounces, he just wants to go in and explore
already.
It’s then that he feels eyes on himself and it stops him. Curious, he turns to see another boy a
few paces away from him. He’s wearing a different uniform and standing in a line just like
Seungmin. But his uniform is yellow, Seungmin’s is blue.
The boy is about his size, dark floppy hair like silk. Long bangs almost cover his big eyes and
just like Seungmin, he has a flag too.
The other kids in his school are chatting amongst themselves. No one seems to bother talking
to him or taking much notice of him.
Seungmin waves with his flag and the boy looks confused for a moment before he waves
back.
Then his teacher announces that they’re going in and Seungmin stumbles after his classmates
to keep up. When he looks over his shoulder, that boy is still there with his school, waving
with his little yellow flag.
Once they’re inside, Seungmin follows in step with the rest of his class. His eyes taking in
the wondrous sight of the towering bamboo trees. There is a guide explaining the area but
Seungmin isn’t paying attention, he’s too busy looking around.
He finds himself wishing he’d brought a camera. The leaves are so high up for him, they
seem to paint the sky in emerald green. Little flecks of golden sunlight spilling out with every
gentle breath of wind.
So enraptured by the sight is he that when he finally looks back down, he realises his
classmates are nowhere near him. Neither are his teachers.
Panic, normal for a small child like him, seizes him as he looks around frantically. There are
no blue uniforms near him, just adults. Seungmin sprints ahead but then the path breaks off
into three and Seungmin pauses at the fork, his breathing escalating as he looks down each
path but finds nothing familiar.
Oh god. He’s lost. He’s been left behind and he’s lost. This is such a huge forest that they’ll
probably never find him. They didn’t even notice him gone, they won’t notice he’s not in the
bus. His mother will never see him again!
His eyes fill with tears at the thought. He thinks his mother will never find him here, the
forest is too big.
Falling to his knees, Seungmin starts to cry into his hands.
There are no adults around to help, not in this area. He doesn’t even think to ask for help, he’s
too panicked.
That’s when he hears the gentle crunch of approaching footsteps. They stop next to him and
when he peeks through his fingers, he sees black shoes. Small shoes, his size.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Looking up, Seungmin rubs the tears out of his eyes to see the boy from the entranceway.
He’s standing there in his yellow uniform, his flag still in his hand and a curious look on his
face.
Seungmin swallows a lump in his throat and shakes his head. “I got lost.”
“Oh. Me too.”
The boy doesn’t seem upset. If anything, he seems quite apathetic about it. He holds out a
hand to help him up and Seungmin, confused, takes it. He rises to his feet to find the boy is
exactly his height and he’s not upset at all.
“You’re lost too?”
“Yep.”
“Aren’t you scared?”

“Nope.”
“Why not?”
A shrug. “I like it better when I’m alone.”
Seungmin doesn’t understand. He hates being lost. He’s always terrified of being too far
away from his mother in supermarkets. He’s terrified of looking up and finding her nowhere
near him, he thinks of being locked up in a dark supermarket, all alone and scared and it
terrifies him. This situation terrifies him, they’re lost in a huge forest and he’s too far away
from home.
“What’s your name?”
“Hyunjin,” the boy answers. “You?”
“Seungmin.”
Hyunjin nods and Seungmin thinks he’s strange. There’s something off about him, he doesn’t
seem bothered at all by the fact that they’re lost and neither of their teachers seem to have
noticed their absences. Instead he seems strangely uninterested in anything.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Hyunjin suggests.
“B-but…” Seungmin blinks, hesitating. “I-if we stay here, they’ll...they might find us.”
Hyunjin watches him. His eyes are really dark but there’s a certain kind of glow about them,
like he knows something no one else knows. It’s kind of endearing and at the same time it
makes Seungmin acutely aware that this boy is some level of intelligent he can’t understand.
“They’ll find us anyway, come on.”
He walks off and Seungmin, not wanting to be alone again, hurries after him.
He quickly finds out that of the two of them, he’s the talker. It’s surprising because Seungmin
never thought of himself as one. He’s not a chatterbox like some of the girls in his classroom
and he’s quieter than most of the other kids but compared to Hyunjin, he’s the
conversationalist. He asks Hyunjin about his school, where he lives, his parents, does he have
siblings and with the exception of the question about his parents, Hyunjin offers short, blunt,
one word responses.
“Boring.”
“Geumjeong.”
“Nope.”
Of course, Seungmin isn’t stupid. He’s probably not as intelligent as Hyunjin appears to be
but he’s sharp enough to pick up on the fact that Hyunjin deliberately avoided answering the
question about his parents. It’s another thing that strikes him as odd because he can talk about
his mother until the cows come home.
“Where’s your mum?”
Hyunjin looks away for a moment, inspecting one of the bamboo trees. He turns his eyes
back to the path and shakes his head.
“Gone.”
Seungmin blinks in shock. “Gone? Gone where?”
“Just...gone,” Hyunjin says, kicking a bunch of leaves as he walks. “Where people go when
they...you know…”
No. No, Seungmin doesn’t know. His mother never told him about that. When his
grandmother died, she told him she was sleeping (which then resulted in Seungmin being
terrified of sleeping for three months lest they put him in the ground too) and when Hyunjin
looks at Seungmin and realises that he really doesn’t know, Hyunjin coughs awkwardly and
looks down.
“Um...you know, the up place…”
Seungmin blinks. “She lives somewhere tall? Like....like an apartment?”
“No, no um…” Hyunjin struggles. “The...you know...the up place. Where it’s all warm and
light and...and you know…”
No. No, Seungmin really doesn’t. When he still looks confused, Hyunjin takes a deep breath
and finally looks him in the eye.
“She’s dead,” he says, blunt and firm.
Seungmin blinks, still somewhat confused and Hyunjin makes this weird strangled noise like
he’s not sure how to explain death to a kid who’s never seen it before.
Luckily in that moment, he doesn’t have to because that’s when one of the forest attendants
finds them and takes them back to the main office to wait for their teachers. They’re given
water and snacks and placed in a little room with a big window to see the forest and two
chairs. Seungmin’s feet dangle from the chair and he kicks them back and forth, happy with
his water and his biscuit.
In the other chair, Hyunjin looks bored. He hasn’t touched his water or his biscuit and when
Seungmin finishes his biscuit, Hyunjin holds his out without a word.
Seungmin blinks at it. “Don’t you want it?”

“I don’t eat sweet things.”
Confused but happy, Seungmin takes the biscuit and starts chewing. He watches as Hyunjin
drinks the water instead and waits until the other is finished before he asks again.
“So what’s dead?”
Hyunjin groans. He puts the cup down, thinks on it for a moment and turns his sharp eyes to
Seungmin.
“Okay, have you ever had a pet?”
Seungmin nods brightly. “I had a dog called Itchy.”
Intelligent eyes catch onto the past tense and Hyunjin nods. “Okay, and where is Itchy now?”
In a heartbeat, Seungmin remembers waking up one morning to his mother telling him Itchy
ran into a car and fell asleep. He remembers being very confused about it and upset that she
wouldn’t let him see the dog to wake him up. He never saw the dog again but later they did
give him a necklace with some dust in it and told him it was a present from Itchy.
“He...fell asleep in front of a car and disappeared,” he confesses.
The look on Hyunjin’s face is incredulous and Seungmin can’t blame him. How does a dog
just vanish into thin air after sleeping in front of a car? He’s asked his mother but she never
answered the question, just told him that Itchy was in a better place. Wherever that is.
“...you’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’m telling the truth,” Seungmin insists. “Mum said that he fell asleep in front of a car
and I never saw him again after that.”
“Dogs don’t just disappear, Seungmin.”
“Itchy did.”
“You….ugh,” Hyunjin huffs. He’s annoyed now and Seungmin doesn’t understand why. He
gets the idea of a disappearing dog is confusing but it’s his dog that disappeared. Why is
Hyunjin upset about it?
“So you believe everything your mum tells you?” Hyunjin questions and Seungmin feels
automatically defensive about it.
“Of course,” he answers right away. “Mum never lies to me!”
“Adults lie all the time.”
“She doesn’t!”
There’s a skeptical look in Hyunjin’s eye that Seungmin doesn’t like. He doesn’t like the
insinuation that his mother would ever tell him a lie. Everything she says is the truth, she
knows everything, she knows way more than Hyunjin. She’d be able to tell him what dead is
if Hyunjin can’t.
The door opens and the boys look up to see Seungmin’s teacher walking in.
“Seungmin, there you are!” she sighs, exasperated as she holds out her hand to help
Seungmin out of the chair. “Come on, you shouldn’t wander off like that.”
Seungmin follows her. At the doorway, he looks over his shoulder to see Hyunjin watching
him. His dark eyes seem to see right through him and it makes him shiver.
“Bye,” he says, quiet and unsure.
Hyunjin nods and that’s when a ghost of a smile changes his entire face from dark and
knowing to something else. Something lighter, more hopeful, still apathetic but not
completely so.
“Bye.”
They meet again a year later. By now Seungmin knows what death is. It was a difficult
conversation and his mother eventually had to show him Lion King and Bambi to help with
the explanation. At first Seungmin is shocked by the idea but his mother assures him it’s a
natural thing.
Then he remembers that Hyunjin mentioned his mother was dead and Seungmin feels awful.
He can’t imagine life without his mother, no wonder Hyunjin had tried to avoid the question
about his parents.
They meet again by coincidence at the park near Seungmin’s house. Every now and then, his
mother takes him to the park when he’s been particularly good. A good report card followed
by an absolutely glowing review from his sports teacher earnt him a day at the park and it’s
there that he sees Hyunjin.
He’d recognise him from a mile away. The same dark eyes, same uniform. Hyunjin is sitting
on one of the park benches, eyes glazed over in thought as he watches the other kids playing.
His hair is a little longer now. All jagged edges and long bangs he keeps sweeping behind his
ear.
Seungmin wonders if anyone’s ever tried to bully him for looking like a girl.
“Hi!”
Hyunjin blinks at him, eyes taking him in before recognition finally sparks. “Seungmin?”
“Hi Hyunjin,” Seungmin beams.
He’s actually ecstatic to see Hyunjin because he’s been wanting to apologise to him ever
since he found out what death is. But he didn’t know which school Hyunjin was in and he
only knew his first name, not his last. Made it pretty hard to track him down. Whatever god
Seungmin pleased to help him find him here, Seungmin is grateful for it.
His mother comes over, curious eyes taking in this lone boy on the park bench. Seungmin
introduces them as friends and he misses the surprise in Hyunjin’s eyes but his mother
doesn’t. Her smile is gentle, almost knowing as she nods to him.
“Nice to meet you Hyunjin, are you here alone?”
Hyunjin, who’s never been good at talking to others, especially adults, simply nods.
“You come to the park alone?” Seungmin asks curiously. His mother would never let him go
alone.
“To think,” Hyunjin answers quietly.
It’s a strange thing to see but Hyunjin is shy, quieter - if that were possible - around an adult
than he ever was around Seungmin. He can’t look Seungmin’s mother in the eye and focuses
his gaze on his knees or the park bench, anything but her.
“Well, Hyunjin, I brought some lunch and we have plenty to go around,” his mother says,
still gentle. “Would you like to join us?”
Hyunjin’s eyes widen and there, Seungmin can see it again. Something lighter, more innocent
than his usual dark apathy. Before it can go away, Seungmin reaches his hand out and takes
Hyunjin’s, he’s not taking no for an answer.
“Come join us.”
That’s how Hyunjin finds himself sitting on a plaid blanket with Seungmin and his mother.
He eyes the picnic basket and watches as Seungmin’s mother lays out a feast of sandwiches,
rice cakes, orange juice, sweets and fruit to go around.
“The sandwiches are BLT without the T,” Seungmin explains happily. “Because I hate
tomatoes.”
There’s a small smile on Hyunjin’s face. “I like tomatoes,” he admits quietly but he takes a
sandwich when offered.
He looks confused and a little impressed. As though he’s never seen this much food before,
especially spread out like this. Seungmin wonders if he’s never gone on a picnic before
because he seems quite lost. Out of place and he never reaches for extra food until either
Seungmin or his mother offer it.
“Help yourself,” Seungmin says. “You don’t have to hold back.”
Hyunjin’s smile is awkward and Seungmin’s mother pushes the rice cakes closer to him.
“It’s okay,” she tells him. Her tone reminds Seungmin of the time she saved a bird that
somehow broke a wing. It’s okay, she’d said as she cradled it in her hands. Hyunjin is that
bird now and Seungmin wonders who broke his wings.
Seungmin’s more than happy to talk and fill the silence. He tells Hyunjin all about what he’s
been up to in the past year, he mentions they live nearby and he makes sure to tell Hyunjin
that his mother is a nurse which means she’s smart.
Hyunjin looks up at her, a small quirk of his eyebrow indicating surprise. “A nurse?”
Seungmin’s mother nods and Seungmin can swear he hears Hyunjin mutter ‘wow’ under his
breath.
When they finish lunch and sit long enough to let the food digest, Seungmin’s mother finally
says it’s okay to go and play. Seungmin is quick to grab Hyunjin’s hand and yank him up to
his feet, pulling him happily towards the flying fox he’s been eyeing for the last hour.
“Hyunjin, have you ever been on this before?” he asks as he tugs the rope towards the
platform.
Hyunjin shakes his head. He looks quite suspicious of the contraption. It’s just a rope tied to a
zipline with a tire at its end but to him it seems to be something quite foreign. So Seungmin
climbs up onto the platform, tugging on the rope until the tire bumps against the platform.
Then he turns to Hyunjin. “Get on.”
“What?”
“Come on.”
He holds the rope out with a big smile. “You just hold onto the rope, stand on the tire and
when you’re ready, I’ll let go.
Hyunjin still looks wary but he doesn’t say no. Instead he takes the rope in his hand and steps
forward. Seungmin holds the end of the rope, holding it still as Hyunjin gently climbs onto
the tire.
“Okay, don’t let go of the rope,” Seungmin says. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Don’t let go.”

“I won’t.”
“Ready?”
Hyunjin doesn’t answer. Both his hands tighten on the rope until his knuckles go white. He
nods and as soon as he does, Seungmin lets go and watches as the rope and Hyunjin go
careening down the zipline.
It’s a long line. Seungmin watches as Hyunjin’s little form rushes down with the rope until at
last it hits the tire at the end and swings forwards before rushing backwards again. It slows
and gravity pushes it forward. When it hits the tyre again, that’s when Hyunjin falls off and
Seungmin sees his little form fall into the autumn leaves below.
“Hyunjin!”
He rushes off the platform and runs right to the end of the zipline. Hyunjin doesn’t move,
he’s lying on his back and he isn’t moving. Did he hit his head, did he hurt himself?
Seungmin is almost beside himself with worry but when he gets there, he finds Hyunjin lying
on his back, covered in orange and brown leaves, laughing his head off.
It shocks Seungmin. He wasn’t sure the other was even capable of laughing and yet here he
is, lying in the leaves and outright howling in laughter.
It’s enough to put a smile back on his face and in no time, he’s laughing too as he sits down
next to Hyunjin.
“I told you not to let go!”
“My hands slipped!”
Seungmin hits Hyunjin’s arm lightly but chuckles as he moves to lie down next to him.
“You scared me, I thought you’d actually hurt yourself.”
Hyunjin just laughs and Seungmin can’t help but join in. Hyunjin doesn’t seem to laugh all
that often but when he does, it’s a contagious sort of laugh.
It must be a strange sight. Two boys lying in the leaves, laughing at nothing. But no one
bothers them and when their laughter finally abates, Seungmin is content enough to stare up
at the blue sky and make out the shapes of the clouds.
“Do you see the horse?”
Hyunjin looks at him as though he’s grown a second head. “...what horse?”
Seungmin points up at the sky. “That one, the cloud that looks like a horse. I can see the head
and mane.”
Silence for a moment. “Seungmin...it’s a cloud.”
“Have you never done this before?” Seungmin gasps. “I do this all the time, you just see
animals and things in the clouds.”
“But...it’s a cloud.”
Seungmin is confused. How has Hyunjin never done this before? All the kids at his school do
this, it’s something that all kids instinctively and naturally know to do. To see shapes,
animals, faces in clouds, in shadows. To spark the imagination in a way that only children
can.
“Can you see it?” he asks again, pointing up to the cloud he means. “See, the cloud is shaped
like a horse. I can see the head, the nose...and the mane.”
Hyunjin is silent, he’s frowning up at the sky and he doesn’t seem to see it.
Silence falls over the boys for a moment and Seungmin fidgets. He watches the horse slowly
change into something else and bites his lip as his thoughts run away with him. Hyunjin had
mentioned his mother was dead, so where was his father? Why was he here alone? Why had
he been in that forest alone? Did he have no friends?
“I’m sorry about your mum,” he blurts suddenly.
Hyunjin looks at him. “So you found out what death is?”
Seungmin nods. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Hyunjin takes a deep breath. He turns his gaze back up to the sky and shakes his head. “It’s
fine. It’s kind of why I didn’t wanna tell you.”
“Why?” Seungmin asks.
“I don’t like telling people my mum is dead,” Hyunjin explains quietly. “Because people treat
me different when they find out. And they say sorry. I don’t remember her.”
Seungmin realises he’d said sorry and he flushes. “I’m sorry that I said sorry,” he stammers.
“I mean, I’m sorry-”
“Seungmin, it’s fine,” Hyunjin assures him and this time, there’s a little amusement in his
face. The sight of it relaxes Seungmin a little.
“It’s just...something that happens,” Hyunjin shrugs. “People know and they just...they say
sorry. They don’t know what else to say.”
He’s right. Seungmin doesn’t know what else to say. What is there to say? Once he’d
wrapped his head around the concept of death, he found the same thing that all adults find.
That death, as natural as it is, isn’t easy to talk about. It’s like walking on eggshells and he
wants to ask how she died but he doesn’t want to risk upsetting Hyunjin. He wants to ask
how old Hyunjin was when she died but he doesn’t want to seem invasive.
And at the same time, he doesn’t want to know because the thought of Hyunjin’s mother
dying inevitably makes him think of his own mother. He wouldn’t be able to cope if she died,
he just wouldn’t. The very thought is enough to bring tears to his eyes.
“What about your dad?”
That gets something else out of Hyunjin. His eyes grow dark and there’s a look on his face,
avoidant, uncomfortable and Seungmin knows right away that the topic is a no go.
It’s strange to think that any kid wouldn’t get along with their own parents but on some level,
Seungmin can understand this one. He’s never met his father, after all. The subject is always
a bit weird and awkward whenever someone asks where he is because Seungmin never
knows what to say. If Hyunjin’s relationship with his own father is strained, then that much
Seungmin can understand.
It must be why he’s here alone.
“Hey,” he says after a moment. “Did you want to come over for dinner?”
Hyunjin’s eyes lighten again and Seungmin finds himself breathing out a sigh of relief at the
sight. There’s something unsettling when Hyunjin’s eyes are dark like that and Seungmin
notes that, where possible, he needs to keep Hyunjin’s eyes lighter. Keep away from topics
that make them dark - like his father.
“To your house?” Hyunjin asks and Seungmin nods brightly.
“I live nearby,” he says. “Do you?”
Hyunjin nods and sits up to point down the road. “Just down there.”
“Then come over,” Seungmin offers. “Are you allowed?”
Hyunjin just nods and Seungmin notes that he doesn’t seem to want to ask for permission. If
the only person he can ask is his father, then Seungmin can’t exactly blame him. It just feels
weird to him not to notify an adult. Wouldn’t someone worry if Hyunjin didn’t come home
before dark? Wouldn’t someone go looking?
But Hyunjin assures him that it’s fine and Seungmin takes him at his word. Together, they go
to his mother and she’s all too happy to have him with them.
So they take him home. Seungmin excitedly shows Hyunjin around his room and his mother
makes a delicious pasta bake. Thoughts of Hyunjin’s father fly out of Seungmin’s head. He
doesn’t even think about it, he’s just excited to have a friend over.
It’s not until afterwards when it gets dark and his mother offers to drive Hyunjin home that it
hits Seungmin like a bolt of lightning: Hyunjin doesn’t want to go home for some reason.
It’s clear on his face. A resigned yet apprehensive look when she tells him she’ll take him
home. Seungmin wants to protest, to offer a sleepover but it’s a school night.
He watches from the window as Hyunjin’s little form follows his mother to the car. When he
turns around, Seungmin waves and Hyunjin waves back. Seungmin can’t quell this
uneasiness about letting him go home and he watches as they get into the car and the lights
disappear down the street as they drive away.
Hyunjin doesn’t disappear from his life like before. They keep meeting at the park after that,
more and more frequently until they have days where they’re supposed to meet up. Most of
the time, Seungmin takes Hyunjin home for dinner and his mother is more than happy to feed
them both.
They spend a lot of time together outside of school. Seungmin learns that Hyunjin is a year
above his age level due to his intelligence. He learns little things about his best friend over
the passing months. Tidbits of information filed away in his head under the name HYUNJIN.
He learns that Hyunjin is left handed, that he can’t stand broccoli. He learns Hyunjin has a
massive allergy to cats and that sad movies like the Titanic (which had Seungmin bawling his
eyes out) actually make Hyunjin happy. He teaches Hyunjin how to look at shapes in clouds
and shadows, he teaches him how to make promises with his pinky finger (a concept Hyunjin
says is stupid but he does it anyway for Seungmin’s sake - and he never breaks a single
promise) and in return, Hyunjin teaches him how to study. He teaches him how to protect
himself (“self defense is important, Seungie, now punch the damn doll in the face”) and he
teaches him how to skip stones - a talent Seungmin didn’t see coming from the stoic boy.
Every time he comes over, Hyunjin stalls as long as he can. He never seems to want to go
home but he never tells Seungmin why.
Seungmin just assumes he doesn’t get along with his dad. It’s not until they’re thirteen that he
finally learns why.
On a rainy night, a school night, the front door thuds with repeated bangs at 2 in the morning.
Seungmin wakes up first. He’s confused and sleepy, but apprehensive as he wanders down
the dark hallway, avoiding the light switches so as to not wake his mother - she took sleeping
pills but he still doesn’t want to risk it.
When he opens the door he finds Hyunjin. Bloody, soaked, Hyunjin, panting on the other
side, barely keeping himself up with a hand on the doorframe.
“Seungie…”
“Hyunjin!” Seungmin gasps, reaching forward to catch his friend before his legs give out on
him.
He drags Hyunjin inside and kicks the door shut behind himself. Hyunjin is dead weight in
his arms, his breathing is weird and he’s covered in blood. His own blood from his nose,
gashes on his head and cuts along his arms. Seungmin’s head is spinning, he’s never seen so
much blood.
He sits Hyunjin down at the kitchen table and rushes off to get the first aid kit from the
cupboard.
“Who did this to you?”
Hyunjin shakes his head and Seungmin wets a cloth in the sink. He comes back and begins to
dab gently at his friends’ face.
Hyunjin’s beautiful face, which only grows prettier each year, is marred with an enormous
bruise threatening to blossom on his left eye. There’s a massive gash on the right side of his
temple and cuts along his cheek, as though someone had taken to his skin with a knife.
It’s Hyunjin’s arms that concern Seungmin the most. Marred with deeper cuts and little welts
along the inside of his wrist, as though someone had extinguished a cigarette on him.
Seungmin bites his lip and asks the question he’s been thinking about for the last few years
now.
“Was it your father?”
There it is again. Hyunjin’s eyes grow dark but this time it’s not with suppressed anger. It’s
something else, something he’s never seen in Hyunjin but he’s seeing it now. Fear. Not fear of
him, but fear that Seungmin knows about it.
“Hyunjin we have to call the police-”
“No,” Hyunjin says, voice solid and firm. “No. Don’t do that.”
Seungmin makes a sound of pure exasperation. “But look at you! Look at what he did to you!
You can’t go back to him after this!”
“Seungie, shut up.”
“Hyunjin, are these cigarette burns?!”
“Seungie-”
“What did he do? Take a knife to your-”
“Seungmin, shut up!” Hyunjin screams. It’s so loud and so sudden that Seungmin stops in
his tracks and stares up at him, confused.
He expects to see anger, Hyunjin sounded angry. Instead what he sees are tears rolling down
Hyunjin’s bleeding face and a look of anguish, of such deep pain that Seungmin finds himself
paralyzed at the sight.
His father. His own father did this to him. Seungmin can’t even imagine how long this has
been going on or what it’s been like. The very idea of it spreads pain in his chest and he finds
it hard to breathe. To think of what Hyunjin’s been going through alone.
Dropping the cloth, he reaches forward and pulls Hyunjin in until the boy is hiding his face in
his shoulder. Hunched in his seat, crying into Seungmin’s shoulder and shaking so hard
Seungmin has to hold him to keep him from falling.
It’s not right.
He’s usually the one who cries, not Hyunjin. Hyunjin’s always been the stronger one, the one
who makes dry jokes and stares like nothing bothers him. The one who doesn’t talk much but
seems more than comfortable with himself, to be alone.
But here he is and in Seungmin’s arms, he feels so fragile. Like broken glass, one nudge
away from shattering completely.
His mother doesn’t wake, thank god and when he’s done cleaning Hyunjin up, he gives him
painkillers and water.
Hyunjin doesn’t want the police involved. He doesn’t want anyone else involved, it’s bad
enough Seungmin is involved. Seungmin, seeing a losing fight ahead of him, merely sighs
and takes him to his room where the two climb automatically onto his double bed. It’s second
nature to Hyunjin by now, this is like his second home and he looks more relaxed when he
settles under the blankets.
Still bruised, still damaged with tear tracks down his cheeks, but no longer bleeding.
Seungmin’s hand finds Hyunjin’s under the blankets and he holds on tightly. In the darkness
of the room, they gravitate closer to each other, Seungmin offering comfort and Hyunjin
taking it for once. It says a lot that he doesn’t protest the skinship - usually he does. He’s not
the touchiest person around but tonight he needs it, he leans into Seungmin and Seungmin is
only too happy to comfort as much as he can.
“Hyunjin,” he whispers in the dark. “Don’t go home again.”
A sigh. “I have to.”
Seungmin holds his hand tighter. “But he’ll-”
“He was drunk, Seungie. He’s not always that bad. I mean...he’s always an asshole and a dick
but he’s not always this violent. I can handle him.”
Clearly he can’t because he came running to Seungmin at three in the morning but Seungmin
decides not to point that out.
“Okay...then can you stay until you heal? I can’t let you go back to him while you’re
still...you know...bleeding.”
Another sigh, this one resigned. “Okay. I’ll stay until then.”
“Pinky promise?”
Hyunjin lets out a small noise but his pinky wraps around Seungmin’s anyway.
“Pinky promise.”
Things change after that and most of it, well out of Seungmin’s control. Hormones and
puberty start changing them both and in Hyunjin’s particular case, puberty whacks him in the
face like a hammer. He fills out, grows taller, leaner, more stunningly beautiful than ever
before and Seungmin isn’t the only one who notices. Hyunjin confuses sexually confused
boys, he gets whispers and giggles from the girls he passes and snide comments are ignored.
Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately considering Hyunjin) it’s Hyunjin’s eyes that keep
people at bay. Those eyes, where Seungmin could bring back the warmest of browns, were
getting darker and darker with each passing day. People tend to know when they’re standing
next to someone dangerous and people in school kept a wide berth around Hyunjin for the
same reason.
He never did anything. He didn’t have to. Somehow, people just knew.
Later, Seungmin would put it down to a primitive form of animal survival instinct. Some
animals know when to stay away from certain plants, so it is with humans.
Things change when they turn fifteen and Seungmin’s mother lands a job in Seoul.
Seungmin is stunned. He stares at his mother as though she’s grown a second head and all he
can think about is Hyunjin. The reality is that he’s still underage. There’s absolutely no
question that he must go with her to Seoul. There’s also no question that Hyunjin can’t come
with them - no matter how much his mother loves Hyunjin, she can’t afford to take him and
he’s not hers.
“When are we going?” he asks and his voice sounds like a faraway echo compared to the
noise going on in his head. The pure panic and guilt of leaving Hyunjin alone here.
“Next week,” his mother says. She’s sympathetic, it’s as though she knows exactly what’s
going on in his head. But there’s nothing to be done. “We’re going to be really busy packing
everything but we need to be in Seoul by next Thursday to make this work.”
Seungmin nods. He’s a good son. He would never cause his mother trouble. But all he can
think about is Hyunjin and the next day when he sees Hyunjin at school, all the guilt floats to
the surface and it’s all he can do not to cry in his arms.
“Seungie?” Hyunjin says, frowning at the sight of his friend. “What’s up?”
The hallway is packed with kids milling left and right to get to class. They still have a whole
day to get through but all Seungmin can think of is leaving Hyunjin behind. He sniffs and one
look at Hyunjin’s face is enough. One cough follows two and Hyunjin is in front of him,
catching him just in time as he bursts into tears and hides his face in Hyunjin’s shoulder.
They don’t go to class. Instead Hyunjin takes him outside and ignores the school bell for first
period.
“We’re moving away,” Seungmin somehow manages to mutter after ten minutes of back rubs
in the back field of the school.
Hyunjin’s hand pauses just for a moment. Then it continues rubbing Seungmin’s back.
“Where?”
“Seoul.”
“Oh.”
Oh. Just oh. Seungmin shakes his head and looks up. Hyunjin isn’t looking at him, he’s
looking at the empty field and the buildings just beyond that. At the classrooms filled with
students who actually went to class and the teachers who have them for the next hour. He’s
looking at the administration building. He’s looking everywhere but at Seungmin.
“Hyunjin,” he sobs after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “Say something.”
Hyunjin twitches. He still won’t look at him and Seungmin is dying to know what colour his
eyes are. Are they black? Is he angry? Does he feel betrayed? Or are they their soft, warm,
chocolate brown? Does that mean he doesn’t care or that he understands this isn’t Seungmin’s
choice?
The breeze is freezing cold. A sign of winter approaching them steadily and when Seungmin
sneezes, Hyunjin takes off his scarf and puts it around Seungmin without a second thought.
He’s still crying. The tears are cold on his cheeks and none of this is his fault but he still feels
guilty. All he can think about is Hyunjin and how he has no friends, he has no one but him
and Seungmin’s place is an escape from his father. In this city, in this entire world, Seungmin
is the only one who really loves Hyunjin and cares about him. No one else has even tried.
And now he’s leaving him.
“Hyunjin,” Seungmin begs after another moment. “Say something.”

Another twitch. Seungmin tries to grab Hyunjin’s arm but the second he touches him,
Hyunjin violently rips his arm out of reach. He takes a few steps back and Seungmin stares
through tearful eyes. Hyunjin’s never rejected his touch before.
He’s still not looking at him. Hyunjin is looking away and he reminds Seungmin of a
wounded animal that won’t let anyone else near it, for fear it’ll be hurt again.
“What do you want me to say?” Hyunjin finally speaks, his voice has a hard edge to it that
makes Seungmin flinch. “Congratulations, you’re getting out of this shithole of a town?”
“Hyunjin I didn’t have a choice!” Seungmin almost squeaks as he jumps up to his feet. “I
don’t want to go!”
“Then don’t,” Hyunjin is saying and it sounds like he’s begging. He’s breathless and all of a
sudden he’s standing right in front of Seungmin, hands on his shoulders, forehead so close
and eyes, desperate and pleading. “Don’t go. Stay here, we can...we can find somewhere to
live-”
“Hyunjin, we’re fifteen years old!” Seungmin barks. “With no income and no help, where the
fuck are we gonna go?!”
“I’ll get a job,” Hyunjin is saying and nothing he’s saying is making any sense to Seungmin
but it’s that look. That look in his eyes tells Seungmin that he’s no longer the same, logical,
cold Hyunjin he knows. This one is desperate to hold onto the one thing that’s keeping him
going and when his hands tighten, he doesn’t notice the way Seungmin winces in pain.
“You’re hurting me.”
“I’ll find a way, there’s always a way,” Hyunjin babbles. “You can’t leave, Seungie, you
can’t. I-I’ll go mad without you, you’re the only person who gets me, I can’t...you can’t leave
me.”
“Hyunjin!” Seungmin yelps, he can feel Hyunjin’s fingers digging into his shoulders and he
tries wriggling out of his hold. “Hyunjin, you’re hurting me!”
It’s not until he’s able to get his hands on Hyunjin’s chest and forcefully push the other back
that Hyunjin seems to wake up from whatever manic spell he was under. Seungmin pushes so
hard that the two fall back against the grass, both panting from different forms of panic.
Seungmin watches that manic glow in Hyunjin’s eyes disappear, only to be replaced with
silent horror.
Seungmin’s shoulders ache. He won’t be surprised if there are bruises there tomorrow. Before
he can say anything else, Hyunjin scrambles up to his feet and runs.
He flees the field, races towards the school buildings and out of Seungmin’s sight.
Seungmin hears, the next day, that Hyunjin had run straight into the administration building
and set it on fire. When they found him sitting there, burning all the student records and
smashing the computers, he was expelled on the spot and reported to the police.
Moving day comes fast and Seungmin’s last week is mostly filled with packing. He doesn’t
see Hyunjin again despite multiple efforts to find him and call him.
He doesn’t see him until the day they’re leaving. When Seungmin is sitting in his mother’s
car, saying goodbye to his childhood home and then, just as she’s pulling out of the driveway,
there he is. Hyunjin, standing just a little out of the way, dressed in a white knit cardigan, a
pink shirt and blue jeans. His long hair tied back in a ponytail and glinting in the sun.
He waves once and Seungmin stares. There in his eyes, the same warm brown he’d seen
when they first met, still as beautiful now as he was back then. He puts his hand against the
window and stares, watching as the car pulls away and Hyunjin’s form shrinks in the
distance.
Seoul is a completely different kind of life. With the hecticness of moving comes an influx of
new and slightly terrifying things. Seungmin’s new school is a lot bigger than his old one and
because he comes in halfway through the year, everyone already has their friend circles and
group assignments mapped out.
The other students leave him alone. He’s new, they don’t know him and to be fair to them, he
doesn’t make any effort to get to know them either.
He doesn’t really know how. He had Hyunjin as his friend when he was in school and that
was all he needed. He never made an effort to make any other friends but now that he’s alone,
he realises just how short sighted that was.
It really shouldn’t be that hard. Just go up and talk to someone, be friendly, ask them how
their day is. He’s not scary like Hyunjin, he should technically be able to do it.
It’s just that the thought of going up to a stranger and making light conversation sounds
absolutely terrifying to Seungmin. He can’t just do that, he feels a heavy wave of anxiety just
thinking about it.
For the first week, he tries and struggles to settle. He goes to class, keeps his head down, tries
calling and messaging Hyunjin but the other never replies to him. His mother, on the other
hand, flourishes. She loves her new job and within one week she’s already dating someone
(Seungmin automatically hates him).
He’s quite literally all alone until the day he meets Lee Minho.
It’s kind of fate the way they meet. Seungmin stays at school a little later than usual to avoid
having dinner with his mother’s new boyfriend. He ignores the passive-aggressive messages
on his phone telling him to stop being rude and come home. He spends three hours in the
library until he’s sure he’s skipped dinner and then he packs his bag and heads towards the
train station.
It’s just outside the station that he hears it. Laughter. But not of mirth, this is the kind of
sneering, bullying laughter he used to hear whenever someone made a comment about
Hyunjin.
Around the corner, he spots three large teenagers who look around his age. In between them,
curled up on the ground, is another. He’s significantly smaller and shielding his head as one
of the boys lands a hard kick against his stomach.
“Why don’t you give us a show?” one of them sneers, he spits down at the boy and kicks
again. “Come on, we’ll pick the music.”
As much as Seungmin would love to be the white knight in this scenario, those three boys
would pummel him without a second thought. What he does instead is run into the station,
grab the attendant, and come out with him.
The attendant, a large burly man with a British accent tinging his Korean, scares the boys off
and when they scatter, Seungmin reaches for the boy on the ground.
His face is covered in blood and bruises but he waves the attendant off when the man offers
to call the police.
“Don’t bother,” the boy coughs. Seungmin puts his arm around him to keep him up, he can
barely stand.
After a few moments of the boy insisting he’s fine, the attendant tells Seungmin to look after
him. He leaves them alone and Seungmin looks over his face. The boy is seriously messed
up, how long had they been beating him before he got there?
“We should…” he struggles and looks around. “We should sit you down somewhere.”
A cough, followed by a small laugh. “That would be nice.”
Seungmin takes him into the station bathrooms. He helps the boy sit on the benches and
immediately goes about grabbing wads of toilet paper, wetting them with the tap and gently
dabbing at his face. Eventually the boy just takes the paper off him and does it himself.
“Um...what’s your name?” Seungmin asks, at a genuine loss for what to do. He tries to
imagine what Hyunjin would have done and comes up blank. Maybe Hyunjin wouldn’t have
even noticed someone in trouble...maybe he would have but he still wouldn’t have done
anything about it.
It pains Seungmin to think that Hyunjin would be the kind of person to ignore someone else
in distress but there’s still a tiny little voice in the back of his head telling him that Hyunjin is
that kind of person, he just doesn’t want to see it.
“Lee Know,” the boy answers and Seungmin raises an eyebrow.

“Lee Know?”
He can see a smirk underneath all that blood.
“Minho. Stage name, Lee Know.”
“Stage name?” Seungmin asks as he gets more paper for Minho’s face. “Are you like, an
idol?”
Minho laughs and holds his stomach in pain. He shakes his head and continues cleaning his
face. “Try, male stripper. Damn good one too.”
And just like that, Seungmin can feel his face growing hot, his eyes growing wide as he
stares at the boy. This boy has to be around his age, maybe a little older. He’s dressed in a
baggy black shirt and ripped jeans with grey kicks.
Minho laughs. “Your ears are red.”
Seungmin tries to cover them but that only makes Minho laugh harder until the bruising on
his stomach punishes him for doing so. Minho whimpers and drops the last of the bloodied
paper into the bin. “Shit, kid, don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”
“I’m Seungmin. I’m probably your age.”
“I doubt it. How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
Minho smirks and Seungmin can feel his ears burning. He can see how this guy would be
popular in a club. Even beaten and bruised, he’s quite pretty. There’s a feline kind of look to
his face, dark eyes, soft brown locks and one look puts Seungmin uncomfortably in his place.
Like he’s right where Minho wants him to be.
He already knows this boy is dangerous in a very different way to Hyunjin.
“Seventeen,” Minho says, pointing to himself. “Call me hyung, pipsqueak.”
“Pi-pipsqueak?!” Seungmin splutters, watching as Minho jumps off the bench and lands with
cat-like grace. “Have you seen yourself? You’re a freaking twig!”
Minho leans over the bench and splashes his face with water. As Seungmin steps back, he
can’t help it when his eyes drift down to Minho’s ass and he immediately looks away. His
ears couldn’t burn more if they tried.
He waits and watches as Minho pushes himself up and dabs his face dry. Then he turns
around and Seungmin feels trapped under his gaze. It’s like Hyunjin all over again, only
Minho seems to have more control than Hyunjin did. Hyunjin was wild, black with anger one
minute and warm brown when placated. Then randomly manic at other times but
Minho...Minho is simply controlled. Even beaten and bruised, there’s something in his eyes
that intentionally holds Seungmin still and keeps him there.
“Wi….will you be okay?” Seungmin asks after a moment of struggling to even find his voice.
Minho nods. “I’ll be fine,” he says. “Not the first time I’ve dealt with homophobic assholes.
Won’t be the last time either.”
Seungmin can’t help himself. “Are you really a stripper?”
There’s amusement in Minho’s eyes. Like he knows a joke Seungmin doesn’t. It’s kind of
equal parts frustrating and endearing all at the same time.
“Well I would invite you to see me but you’ll never get past the front door with that baby
face,” Minho says.
“You’re underage too,” Seungmin shoots back, a little annoyed. “What kind of strip place lets
a seventeen year old work there?!”
“The kind that is willingly ignored by the police who frequent it,” Minho says and that shuts
him up. Seungmin’s eyes go wide with disbelief and Minho nods. “Oh yes, the amount of
cops who have groped my ass and shoved money into my g-string…”
“I don’t…” Seungmin holds up a hand and grimaces. He doesn’t want to imagine it and he’s
not sure what’s putting him off. The image of older men groping Minho or the image of
Minho in a g-string.
Given the stirring in his cock, he’s going to have to quietly admit to himself that it’s the
former.
“You’re adorable,” Minho giggles at the discomfort on Seungmin’s face. “What’s your
number? We should hang out sometime.”
And that’s how Seungmin starts spending every second day with Lee Minho.
Though he tries not to, Seungmin notices the differences between his friendship with Hyunjin
and his friendship with Minho. It’s coloured by years and years of childhood with Hyunjin
but the differences make themselves known to him regardless.
There were times, especially when Hyunjin was angry that Seungmin was genuinely
concerned he was on the verge of losing him. When that brown in his eyes would be
consumed by black, never to lighten again. When Hyunjin could scare him (though this was
almost always followed with a very apologetic Hyunjin waiting outside his bedroom window
until Seungmin felt safe enough to let him back in.)
Spending time with Minho is very different.

Every second day, Minho calls and Seungmin goes to meet him somewhere. He likes the idea
of having someone, a friend in this city and his mother appreciates it too. Minho seems to
like spending time with Seungmin because he’s ‘innocent’ - as he’d put it one day.
“You’re like...the kind of person I would be spending time with if I wasn’t in the position I’m
in,” Minho comments off hand one day when they’re chilling in a cafe. “Someone my own
age...who doesn’t want me to take my clothes off.”
(Well...Seungmin has thought about it once or twice but he never acts on it. Teenage
hormones get the best of him sometimes and to be honest, he’s still a terrified fifteen year old
virgin. There’s no way in hell he’s going to make the first move.)
Minho shows him around different parts of Seoul. He takes Seungmin to cafes and
restaurants he personally likes, he takes him to movies when they’re bored and have nothing
better to do.
It’s just nice, having a friend.
When Seungmin turns sixteen, his mother’s (dickhead) of a boyfriend proposes.
She’s over the moon, happily showing him the ring and cuddling with the tall man Seungmin
refuses to call by name, much less call him father.
After dinner, he excuses himself, calls Minho and meets him just outside Daebang station.
It’s night when they meet up. Minho doesn’t say a word as he takes Seungmin’s hand and
walks him ten minutes down the road to Ankara Park. They hit up a seven eleven along the
way, Minho buys snacks and drinks and takes Seungmin to the park where they find a quiet,
isolated bench surrounded by green hedges and thin trees. Above them, the night sky calms
Seungmin and when he sits, he feels Minho’s warmth next to him as he other takes out a can
and hands it to him.
Seungmin looks at it. “I’ve never had alcohol before.”
“Try it,” Minho says. “It’s grape flavoured, you can barely taste the alcohol.”
Shrugging, Seungmin takes his word for it and pops it open. The liquid is fizzy, a sweet,
artificial but not overpowering grape flavour overtakes everything else. It tastes like a normal
fizzy drink, Seungmin would almost think it was if it weren’t for the giant 9% on the can.
“Happy birthday, by the way,” Minho comments as he leans back into the bench. “Sweet
sixteen...how does it feel?”
“Pretty shitty actually,” Seungmin mumbles. “I hate my mother’s boyfriend.”
“So you’ve mentioned. What did he do now?”

“Proposed.”
“Congrats.”
“Fuck you.”
Minho’s laughing and somehow it gets Seungmin to smile. He’s always liked the sound of
Minho’s laugh. It warms him even now after seven months of knowing him. Somehow,
Minho had managed to just make himself a stable fixture in Seungmin’s life and it’s
comforting just knowing he’s there in this huge city he can never get used to.
They spend a while in comfortable silence. Occasionally broken by the rattle of the plastic
bag as one of them finds a snack. The cool night air is enough to calm Seungmin from
whatever panic attack he may have had.
His mother. Married. To a royal douchebag. Seungmin can practically hear Hyunjin teasing
him about it too.
It’s the thought of his friend back in Busan that immediately sobers him and when Minho
notices the change in his face, he frowns.
“Hey, you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Seungmin says, shaking his head as if to shake away the memory of Hyunjin. “I
was just thinking about a friend.”
“Back in Busan?”
Seungmin nods and Minho doesn’t press it. He’s grateful for it, he’s not sure he can talk
about Hyunjin. How they parted still pains him and as much as he wants to remember
everything good about his friend, what pushes its way to the forefront of his mind is the
manic look in his eyes when Hyunjin had begged him to stay in Busan with him.
That manic look...that hadn’t been his friend in there. That had been something else.
Something Seungmin didn’t want to meet.
He looks at Minho and he doesn’t want to remember Hyunjin. At least, not right now when
he’s already emotionally fragile as it is. He wants to remember now, he wants to remember
Minho giving him light alcohol in the park and cheering him up after his mother’s boyfriend
had effectively crashed his mood. He wants to remember that in just seven months, Minho
had comfortably nestled in Seungmin’s life right when Seungmin needed him.
Minho with his cat-like grace, his feline eyes that can hold anyone hostage. His calm,
composed and almost regal demeanour. He’s never seen Minho panic or in a hurry to do
anything. Minho runs by Minho’s time and Seungmin can’t help but admire him for it.
Minho meets his eyes and Seungmin feels the air suck itself out of his lungs. Dark eyes hold
him still and for a moment, they just stare.
Then Minho leans in and Seungmin’s mind fogs with equal parts panic and need before their
lips finally meet and his brain switches off.
They kiss until they’re breathless. Seungmin’s hand finds Minho’s knee and Minho’s hands
are curled into his hair, pulling him close. Seungmin gasps for air in the small space between
their lips and his other hand grips Minho’s shirt as though he’s afraid the other is going to run
from him.
He leans in for another kiss. Then another, until they’re both leaning into each other, holding
each other.
They don’t pull apart until Seungmin accidentally knocks over his can. It clatters on the
concrete, startling them both as they look down to see the alcohol leaking everywhere.
Minho chuckles. “You owe me 3000 won for that can.”
“I’m not paying you for a can, hyung. That was your birthday present to me.”
“I thought my kiss was a birthday present.”
“In what universe is a kiss a birthday present?!”
“In mine. Pay up, cheapskate.”
They’re laughing as they pull back. Just to be a shit, Seungmin slaps 3000 won into Minho’s
waiting hand. He watches the other tuck it away into his wallet before he looks back down at
the wasted can on the ground.
“Tasted like shit anyway,” he comments dryly.
“Don’t you like grape?”
“Not really.”
“Good. Now that I know, I’ll buy you all the grape things I can find.”
“You’re an asshole.”
Minho’s smile is radiant as he pulls Seungmin up to his feet. They clean up their mess and
Minho’s holding his hand as they walk out of the park and throw their rubbish in the nearest
bin. He holds his hand all the way to the station and Seungmin’s ears are red again but he
can’t stop smiling.
Minho kisses him at the platform.
“I would take you home, but I have a thing about not doing that on the first date,” Minho
comments as he hooks his arms around Seungmin’s shoulders.
Seungmin feels drunk, he can’t stop looking at Minho’s lips and Minho is so tiny in his arms.
He’d feel protective if he didn’t already know that Minho is perfectly capable of looking after
himself - when he’s not outnumbered by homophobic assholes, that is.
“Not doing what on the first date?” he asks and it takes an embarrassing three minutes of
Minho looking like he’s trying not to laugh for Seungmin to understand what he’d meant.
“...oh.”
Minho can’t help himself, he laughs so loud it gets the attention of people passing by.
Seungmin can’t blame them for looking though, not only is his laugh kind of melodic but
Minho himself is beautiful. The kind of beautiful that warrants attention.
Seungmin’s ears are still burning. “Excuse me for being innocent.”
“I like your innocence, baby,” Minho coos, reaching up to tuck a stray lock behind
Seungmin’s ear.
He’s so warm and stable and intoxicating that Seungmin can’t help but sway into him. He
kisses him at least twice more before the announcement calls his last train and they have to
part for the night.
After that, their meetings change a little. Coffee at random cafe’s all around Seoul is replaced
instead with makeout sessions in quiet parks and at the backseats of theatres. It surprises
Seungmin how much he thinks about Minho, how Minho naturally takes over his thoughts,
his days and nights.
On Minho’s insistence, they go slow. Slow means dates when they can meet up, makeout
sessions anywhere they can find, holding each others hands and a lot of walks. Seungmin
never takes him home because he doesn’t actually want Minho to have to meet his dickhead
of a future step-father and Minho never takes him home because, in his words, ‘my apartment
is a literal shithole and any sexy-time thoughts you’ll have will be murdered the second you
step through the door’.
So they spend weeks and weeks and weeks, taking it slow. They take it so slow that once
Seungmin adjusts himself to the idea that he’s got a boyfriend and the terrifying fog of sex is
lifted, his mind starts to become consumed by it.
He googles a lot. He reads a lot. He watches a lot of porn but when he stumbles across
something about hairy bears and barebacking, he’s so traumatized it takes Minho three hours
of laughing and two more hours of telling him they’re not going to be like that to calm him
down. Morning, noon and night, Seungmin thinks about it until it’s all he can think about.
But Minho doesn’t budge.
“We don’t have to rush,” he says every time Seungmin brings up the idea of finding a hotel or
risking going back to his apartment despite it being a shithole. “Seungie, it’s not a race.”
His mother, her wedding plans, his dickhead of a future step-father, all of that turns into
background noise for Seungmin as horny thoughts of Minho take over.
Then, one night, Minho sneaks him into the bar where he works. Dressed in a black leather
jacket and jeans, Seungmin feels like he sticks out a little despite Minho assuring him he
doesn’t. “You look hot, way older than you really are, you baby,” Minho teases as he brings
Seungmin to the main room which is already filled with people sitting at the tables and bar
stools.
Minho kisses Seungmin’s cheek. “Go sit at the bar,” he says. “Tell Insung I sent you.”
“Wait, where are you going?” Seungmin panics. He holds Minho’s hand before the other can
rush off. “Don’t leave me here.”
“I gotta work, baby,” Minho grins, he kisses him again and lets go of his hand before pushing
him towards the bar. “Go sit, I’ll see you in a bit.”
Feeling way out of his element, Seungmin’s legs force him towards the bar where he
manages to find an empty stool. He waits for the bartender to come to him and when the man
does, he looks Seungmin up and down as though he can tell he’s underage.
“You with Minho?” the man asks.
Seungmin nods and the man smirks. “Ah, nice to meet you. I’m Insung, Minho told me you
like grape drinks.”
Minho, you dick.
“Passionfruit, please, if you have it,” Seungmin smiles and Insung goes to fill his order.
Just as the drink is brought to him, the lights dim and Seungmin notices all the patrons in the
main room turn to look expectantly at the stage. Seungmin twists a little on his stool, still
sipping his drink when the lights turn hot pink, highlighting the stage where a single pole
stands at the end of the runway.
Then the music plays and Seungmin’s attention is drawn to the sole figure standing in the
middle of the runway.
Minho is a vision in white. His dark hair coiffed to the side, his pretty eyes shadowed in
black eyeshadow and mascara with gold flecks that glint in the light. He’s wearing a flowy
white dress shirt with tight, black leather pants and boots that click with each calculated step.
Seungmin feels his entire body heat as his vision narrows until Minho is all he can see. Until
this performance is just for him, and him alone.
I’m flyin’
I’m flyin’ high like a bird.

But my flutterin’ wings can’t keep you from pulling me down.
Then he climbs on the pole and Seungmin presses his knees together, one hand pressed
against his lips as if to keep in a moan. He knows he’s not the only one, every eye in the area
is trained on Minho and the way he climbs until he’s hooked one leg up securely enough to
hang himself upside down.
It’s effortless. Too easy, the way he spins himself around until the white shirt falls with a
flutter to the stage floor. Seungmin forgets about his drink, he forgets everything else and just
watches the way Minho twists himself around the pole. The way his body moves to the
music, slow and sensual. The way he holds the attention of every soul in this room hostage.
Maybe Seungmin should be jealous of the way everyone else watches when Minho loses his
pants. Maybe he should be smacking away the hands that reach to touch what they can’t have
but he can’t even move from his stool. He just stares, helpless and trapped in the spell Minho
effortlessly weaves over them all.
Then it’s over, the music stops, the lights go out and Minho disappears as though he was
never there.
When the house lights come back on, Seungmin lets out a shaky breath he didn’t even realise
he was holding. He’s hard and he can feel it straining painfully in his pants. He puts money
down on the counter for his drink and stumbles off in the direction Insung points him to.
“Tell the bouncer who you are,” Insung calls after him, sounding incredibly amused.
Seungmin barely pays attention. His vision is tunnelled, he can barely focus on anything else.
He finds the bouncer and sure enough, the second he tells him who he is, the bouncer lets him
in. He passes other dancers, walks past so many clothing racks until he’s led to Minho’s little
changing room.
Minho is standing there waiting for him, dressed in those same leather pants and flowing
white shirt.
It takes Seungmin all of two seconds to slam the door behind himself and grab Minho. He
pins him to the wall and kisses him so hard he can hear Minho gasp as Seungmin sucks the
air right out of his lungs.
His grip is tight but so is Minho’s. Pressed up against him, Seungmin can feel Minho is just
as hard and when he rubs himself against the other, he relishes in the choked moan Minho
lets out. He does it again, pushing Minho into the wall and rubbing between clothes. Minho
chokes on his tongue, his hands are pushing through Seungmin’s hair and when he finally
pulls back for air, Minho is gasping.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, not here baby, not here,” Minho whimpers but he’s not pulling away. He’s
not even pushing Seungmin off, instead his hands slip down Seungmin’s back until he has
both hands on his ass. Minho’s hands push Seungmin’s groin into his own and they’re in no
state to pull away.
Maybe it’s because they’d spent so long taking it slow. Or maybe it’s because of the
performance but in that moment, Seungmin would rather die than pull away from him.
The room is filled with their gasps and the rhythmic bump of Minho being pushed back into
the wall. They hump, too impatient to remove clothing. Seungmin bites Minho’s neck and he
loves the wail Minho lets out. It’s almost too aggressive but neither can pull back and when
he finally hears Minho’s choked squeak, he pushes hard until he feels the other shudder
against him.
“I’m coming, I’m coming, I….fuck,” Minho squeaks until Seungmin blocks his mouth with
his own.
Minho moans into his mouth, shuddering hard as Seungmin loses it too.
A fog, intense and heated, fills Seungmin’s brain and when he finally comes crashing back to
earth, Minho is clinging to him and gasping for air. He’s panting too, his face red, his hair a
mess and sweat sticking to his skin beneath his clothing.
Minho is no better.
It takes Seungmin a moment to catch his breath enough to talk.
“Hotel?”
Minho nods and lets Seungmin take his hand and lead him out. Neither care who sees them at
this point.
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
“No. Do you?”
“No.”
Minho’s laugh is almost contagious. They’d managed to find a hotel easily enough, kissed at
the door, took off all their clothing and it’s only now when they’re lying in bed, stark naked,
that both realise they have no idea what they’re doing.
Minho feels fragile underneath Seungmin. A hour spent kissing and groping has left them
both hard and pink in the face but despite his extensive research, Seungmin somehow feels
unprepared.
“I brought lube,” Minho says helpfully.
“Lube is good, we need lube,” Seungmin nods. “But who’s topping?”

Minho frowns. “Well I’m older.”
“I’m bigger.”
“I’m smarter.”
“I’m hotter.”
“I BEG your pardon, you are not hotter than me,” Minho says with a faux-gasp. He breaks
down into giggles soon after and Seungmin can’t help but grin.
If he was nervous before, he’s not now. Minho, beautiful, giggly Minho, cuts the tension out
of the air with his laughter and it helps Seungmin relax too. It’s a first for both of them.
“Are we really going to argue about who tops?” Seungmin asks.
“I thought we were arguing about who bottoms,” Minho says as he leans over to grab the
lube from his bag sitting on the bedside table. He hands it to Seungmin with a smile and
Seungmin stares at it, lost for what to do next.
Luckily for him, Minho may be just as inexperienced but he’s the one who takes the lead. He
pulls Seungmin into another kiss until Seungmin’s nerves are replaced instead with need. He
loves the way Minho holds his face, the way he kisses and before long, they’re both panting
and in desperate need of more.
Seungmin climbs down Minho’s body, he kisses every inch of skin on his way down and his
intense googling comes in handy when he’s met with Minho’s entrance and weeping erection.
With a bravery he didn’t know he had, Seungmin kisses the tip and hears Minho yelp. It’s
encouraging that he does it again, relishing in the sound.
Minho’s hand dives into Seungmin’s hair and pulls lightly as Seungmin finally starts taking
him in, inch by inch until his gag reflex kicks in. He sucks, gently at first until Minho’s
moans encourage him to suck harder.
“Teeth, Seungie, teeth,” Minho whimpers when Seungmin accidentally scrapes his front teeth
against skin.
It’s inexperience but Seungmin takes it in stride and attempts to keep going without bringing
his teeth out. Between Minho’s legs, Seungmin pops the lube bottle open and accidentally
squirts lube over the sheets and his own fingers. He’s shaking but determined, one finger
circling the rim and in response, Minho opens his legs a little wider.
“Slowly,” Minho manages to gasp between moans. “One finger first, then wait until I tell you
to put two.”
Seungmin follows easily, he pushes one finger in and is momentarily distracted by how tight
it is. Is he even going to fit in there?
“Slow, baby, slow,” Minho whispers. Seungmin can catch it in his tone, he’s just as nervous.
So he goes slow. He goes back to sucking to distract Minho from any possible pain and after
a few moments, Minho starts nudging his hips towards Seungmin’s fingers.
“Two.”
Seungmin slides the second finger in. He pulls his mouth back and occupies himself with
kissing Minho’s stomach, listening to him breathe and adjust himself to the stretch. Seungmin
looks up and takes in every inch of Minho’s face as he moves his fingers gently, always
pulling back when he notices the slightest wince.
“Three.”
Seungmin has trouble fitting three in but he manages. It draws a painful wince from Minho
and he immediately pulls his fingers out.
“Too much?”
“No, keep going.”
Seungmin follows the order. He dips his head down and presses more kisses to Minho’s
stomach, his thighs and cock in the hopes of distracting him and to an extent, it works.
After another few moments, Minho nods and pushes himself up enough to look down.
“Okay, Seungie,” he says. “Get up here.”
Seungmin snorts. “Could you at least be more romantic?”
“How?”
“I dunno,” Seungmin shrugs as he pulls his fingers out. “How about: ‘Seungmin, come make
love to me.’?”
Minho giggles and reaches down to pull Seungmin up until he’s lying on top of him.
Seungmin’s about to say something smartass before Minho’s hand reaches down and finds
his neglected cock. The touch knocks every thought out of his brain and all Seungmin can do
is moan and hold onto the boy beneath him.
“Seungmin,” Minho breathes, hand lovingly stroking between Seungmin’s legs. “Come fuck
me.”
“Okay,” Seungmin moans. His head flops down onto Minho’s shoulder and he shudders.
“Condoms?”
“I’m prepared,” Minho nods to his bag. “Geez, do you not walk around with condoms?”
“No.”
“Well you should start, always good to be prepared.”
Seungmin reaches a hand out and digs around Minho’s bag until he finally finds the little
square packet. He looks over the glossy pink wrapping and it occurs to him that he’s never
seen a condom this close before. Sex-ed had been helpful enough to warn him of the dangers
of sexual transmissions but he’d never actually had to handle a condom.
Minho reaches up and takes it from him. He rips it open with ease, tossing the wrapper aside
as he reaches down to slide it onto Seungmin. Seungmin almost jolts, he’s oversensitive and
it’s weird wearing one of these things.
But then Minho kisses him and his mind turns back to where it’s meant to be.
“Slow,” he says again and Seungmin follows the order eagerly.
He fits naturally between Minho’s legs. The two of them look down, curious as Seungmin
positions himself until his cockhead is nudging against Minho’s entrance.
He sucks in a breath. “You sure about this?”
“Yep,” Minho nods. “Do it.”
It’s probably the most unromantic proposition he’s ever going to hear but damn it if it doesn’t
still rile him up. Seungmin turns his gaze up to Minho’s face and pulls him into another kiss.
Then he pushes and Minho’s grip on his arms tightens. Minho’s legs encase Seungmin’s sides
and Seungmin keeps pushing in until he’s almost completely inside Minho.
They gasp against each other’s lips and Minho’s breath stutters.
“Hold there,” he whispers. “Stay still.”
Against his own horny mind, Seungmin obeys. Minho feels unbelievable around him, his
groin is pulsing but he stays still, breathing with Minho and waiting until Minho’s grip
loosens on his arms.
“Okay,” Minho breathes.
Then Seungmin moves and both their minds go blank.
Afterwards, Minho lies curled in Seungmin’s arms. The room smells of sex and their heaving
breaths finally quiet down until what they hear instead is the distant sound of traffic outside
the hotel.
It had been messy, clumsy and heated but both feel somewhat satisfied for it being their first
time.
Somewhere in the darkness, Seungmin’s hazy mind comes up with a question.
“How did you end up stripping?”
He can feel Minho shiver and he looks down to see the other avoiding his gaze. Suddenly,
Seungmin feels like he just stepped on a landmine.
“...what?”
“I um…” Minho fidgets. “Can we not talk about that?”
If Seungmin was only mildly curious before, he’s very curious now. He stares at Minho but
the other won’t meet his gaze, instead choosing to stare resolutely at the ceiling, as though
it’ll put Seungmin off. It doesn’t.
“Okay...I won’t talk about it.”
“Thank you.”
Another moment of silence passes, but this is more awkward and both of them can feel it.
Seungmin’s mind is going through all sorts of scenarios trying to figure out how Minho
ended up where he was. He’s intelligent, he’s beautiful and very resourceful. If he were to
finish school, he’d do so well so why is he stripping?
“Do you not like me stripping?” Minho asks after a moment.
“I’ve given it some thought,” Seungmin admits quietly, his hand stroking Minho’s hair back
as he stares at the ceiling. “I mean...if it’s something you want to do then it’s fine but...but
other people seeing you sort of...kind of…”
“Makes you uncomfortable?”
Seungmin nods and he’s not entirely sure he has a right to feel jealous over anyone else
looking at Minho’s naked body. He has no claim over the boy, he’s his boyfriend but he
doesn’t own him. Minho is perfectly within his rights to do whatever the hell he wants. If he
were to tell Seungmin that he started stripping because he wanted to, Seungmin could accept
that.
It’s the thought that Minho isn’t there by choice that makes him more uncomfortable and
Minho’s reluctance to talk about what put him there isn’t encouraging.
“I can’t stop,” Minho says after a few silent minutes. “It’s really good money and I need that
money.”
Again, Seungmin feels like he’s nearing a landmine. He’s dying to ask what Minho could
possibly need the money for and his mind is already coming up with a million reasons.
Ranging from a family he needs to support to slave labour.
He kisses Minho’s forehead.
“Is it something you want to do?” he asks, keeping his tone light in an attempt to keep Minho
calm.
“I’m good at it,” Minho points out.
“Yeah, but do you want to do it?”
Silence. Unbidden, Hyunjin appears in Seungmin’s mind and it’s so similar. Hyunjin hadn’t
had a choice either. Trapped with his abusive father, Hyunjin had done what he could to
survive, even if it meant staying away from home until he was sure his father wouldn’t beat
him. If Hyunjin had the chance, he could have done so much but he didn’t. His options were
limited and by the sounds of it, so are Minho’s.
“Seungie, don’t ask a question you won’t like the answer to,” Minho advises and Seungmin
feels cold dread dripping down his spine.
Over the next eight months, Seungmin keeps seeing Minho. He’s completely besotted by
him. To the point where when he goes to bed and closes his eyes, all he can see, breathe,
think about is Minho.
His mother’s wedding is in August and Seungmin still hates her boyfriend.
It’s not without reason either. Her boyfriend, his future step-father, is one of those
douchebags most people would ignore. He’s ridiculously tall, weedy with a sleazy kind of
smile that makes Seungmin’s hair stand on end. He wears socks and sandals, he leaves the
toilet seat up, he wears backwards caps and makes offhand homophobic comments about
androgynous idols.
He is a true dickhead and all Seungmin can think is that he must have a monster cock for his
mother to gladly overlook that and marry the prick.
On the day of her wedding, Seungmin invites Minho and Minho turns up in a nice suit with a
black tie, clean, crisp black dress jacket, white dress shirt and black dress pants with shiny
shoes. His bangs are coiffed neatly to the side and Seungmin finds himself at a loss for words
when he sees him at the church.
“Fuck,” he breathes as he approaches him and looks him up and down. “Can I marry you?”
Minho giggles. “Is that your way of proposing? You suck.”
Seungmin’s cheeks turn pink but he’s happy to see him there. Especially when he looks at the
altar and sees his step-douche standing there and making sexist jokes with his groomsmen.
Minho peers over his shoulder and tilts his head. “Is he homophobic?”
“Yes,” Seungmin mutters darkly. “And sexist.”
Minho whistles. “He must have a huge cock.”
One of the older women sitting in the pews turns to look at Minho, disgusted and Minho
grins back at her until she turns back around again. Seungmin takes a deep breath, he’s going
to need more than alcohol to watch his mother marry this asshole.
“Are you a bridesmaid?” Minho teases as Seungmin leads him to the pews.
“Worse,” Seungmin deadpans. “Flowergirl.”
Minho bursts into fits of giggles as Seungmin leaves him to find his seat. He’s annoyed but at
the same time, he’s relieved that Minho is there with him. He doesn’t think he can get
through today without a little support. Even if that support comes in the form of Minho trying
desperately not to laugh at him as he wanders down the aisle throwing flowers at everyone.
The wedding continues without a hitch and after the ceremony, the party moves to a large
dining hall. Seungmin deliberately takes Minho’s hand and takes him along to the main table
where the bride and groom sit with their family. Seungmin sits next to his mother and when
he puts Minho next to him, his mother notices him right away.
“Seungmin,” she says, curious eyes taking in Minho’s appearance. “Is this your friend?”
Before Seungmin can introduce Minho, Minho leans over and bows politely to her.
“Lee Minho,” he says, voice smooth as silk as he flashes a warm smile.
His mother smiles, pleasantly surprised but it’s his step-father who takes one look at Minho
and frowns in confusion. As if he doesn’t know what he’s looking at.
Minho continues, undeterred. “Congratulations on your wedding.”
“Oh thank you,” Seungmin’s mother blushes. “Thank you for coming. And thank you for
looking after Seungmin since we moved here, it’s been a relief knowing he has a friend.”
“The pleasure’s all mine,” Minho grins and under the table, his hand finds Seungmin’s. “He’s
been a joy to know.”
Seungmin’s mother smiles, quite taken in by Minho. It calms Seungmin down a little. He
holds Minho’s hand under the table all the way through the speeches, the cutting of the cake
and the first dance.
They excuse themselves sometime after the second dance.

Minho leads Seungmin outside and Seungmin groans in relief when the cool air hits his skin.
It had been boiling in the hall and he hadn’t even realised until he came outside.
The moon in the sky lights the garden just at the back of the venue. Cobblestone paths lead
down into a mini maze of garden, lit by little blue lights planted into the corners of the path.
It’s beautiful and as Seungmin and Minho walk in, hand in hand, they can hear the fountains
further in. The lights illuminate the flowerbeds and trees, casting an overall dreamy glow
over the garden.
It would have been better to have the wedding out here.
“Well, your mother is lovely,” Minho comments.
Seungmin nods and his gaze turns back to Minho. It’s cheesy to think it but of all the things
in the garden, Minho is still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. When Minho smiles,
when he speaks, when he’s charming the pants off his mother, Seungmin can’t breathe. He’s
so beautiful that Seungmin wants him to himself, he wants to never have to share him with
anyone.
Is it selfish to want him all to himself?
“I have something for you,” he says and when Minho looks at him, Seungmin pulls
something small out of his pocket.
He takes Minho’s hand and slides a silver ring onto his ring finger.
The gesture isn’t intended to be a marriage proposal but Seungmin realises in that moment
that it kind of is. He’d found the ring a week ago and thought it perfect for Minho. It’s not
even an engagement ring, it’s a silver band twisted into a cat head shape with two little fake
diamonds for eyes.
It’s the kind of ring a kid would get because it’s shiny.
But Minho giggles, he admires the ring for a few moments and brings his gaze up to meet
Seungmin’s.
“I do.”
They kiss in the garden with no one to see them.
They start fighting after that. At first it confuses Seungmin, it comes out of nowhere. Their
usual teasing banter turns into something more serious and he doesn’t know where it’s
coming from.
Minho is suddenly more sensitive, grumpier and not even kisses appease him.
To be fair to Minho, it’s double-sided. Seungmin suddenly has to deal with his step-father
living with them, leaving his shit everywhere, stinking the house with his presence and
Seungmin’s foul mood is taken out on Minho when he doesn’t deserve it.
The main point they keep fighting about is Minho’s job.
“Look,” Seungmin says one day as he dumps a bunch of pamphlets on Minho’s lap. They’d
chosen Ankara park to meet tonight and thankfully, it’s mostly empty.
Minho looks down at them and frowns. “...what are these?”
“There’s a community college that accepts people who never graduated high school,”
Seungmin tells him as he sits down and shows each pamphlet to him. All different courses.
Carpentry, fabrics, plumbing, hands on work that earns real money. Legitimate money.
“You’d be paid well and you wouldn’t have to strip.”
Minho glares at him. “And what if I like stripping?”
“You said you didn’t.”
“I never said that!”
“You implied it!”
“Seungie, I’m not interested,” Minho pushes the pamphlets off his lap and rounds on
Seungmin with a glare. “And if this is because you don’t like other people seeing me strip,
then get over it.”
“Okay,” Seungmin frowns. “I don’t like other people seeing your naked body, is that so
wrong?”
“Yes!”
“Why?!” Seungmin yells. “You’re my boyfriend! Fuck, you’re probably even my husband!”
“Because it’s my body and I choose what I want to do with it,” Minho snaps. “And if I want
to wrap myself around a pole and grind on it whilst people stick their money in my
underwear, then I can do that!”
“Why did you start stripping in the first place?” Seungmin asks and Minho turns away from
him. Seungmin grabs his arm, forcing him to look at him again.
“Let me go!”
“How did you end up stripping?” Seungmin demands. “Do you owe someone money? Are
you supporting someone? Are you being blackmailed? What?”
“For fucks sake, Seungmin! I thought we agreed not to talk about this!”
“Yeah well I wanna know,” Seungmin frowns. “I wanna know more about you and how can I
if I don’t know why you’re there in the first place? I don’t know shit about you, especially
your family.”
“That’s because there IS no family!” Minho screams at him.
It shocks Seungmin enough that he finally lets go of Minho’s arm. He notes the little white
marks on Minho’s skin, small marks from his fingers and it reminds him of Hyunjin holding
his shoulders so hard they bruised.
Oh god.
“Minho, I’m-”
“Seungie,” Minho sounds tired. Exhausted. “Just...stop.”
They sit in silence for a long time. Occasionally someone jogs or cycles by but no one
questions the two teenage boys sitting on the park bench, staring out into space.
“Why are we doing this?” Minho asks quietly.
Seungmin shakes his head. He doesn’t know either. Minho drives him crazy in both the good
and bad ways. Some days he can’t stop thinking about him, other days he wishes he could
understand him and it’s frustrating that he doesn’t. It’s frustrating that even now, there’s still
things Minho won’t tell him.
It’s like Minho doesn’t trust him.
“Is it me?” he asks and he hates how his own voice sounds so weak. Fragile. As if he’ll fall to
pieces if Minho rejects him.
“I thought it was me,” Minho admits.
It doesn’t help either of them. More and more, Seungmin feels a chasm between them and if
he had to pinpoint the cause, it’s because of both of them. Seungmin, blind and trusting, had
willingly given his heart and virginity to Minho and Minho had done the same. But did
Seungmin ever take Minho home to meet his mother? Not before the wedding. Did Minho
ever talk about his own family? Not until now.
They’re at a fork in the road and one path demands that they talk. Be more open and honest
with each other. It promises a future where their relationship might stand a chance. The other
path…
Seungmin is numb when Minho takes his ring off and puts it back in Seungmin’s hand. He
stares ahead, resolute and numb even long after Minho kisses his cheek and leaves him there.
-
It takes a few weeks of wallowing. Deep, deep wallowing. The kind where Seungmin locks
himself in his room until his mother is all but begging that he come out and eat something.
Minho contacts him five weeks later with a small ‘can we talk?’
And against every bitter voice in his head that hates Minho, Seungmin agrees to go.
He showers, cleans himself up and meets Minho at one of the first cafe’s Minho introduced
him to. It makes the best caramel lattes.
Minho looks good, dressed in a white hoodie with a baggy, black, v-neck sweater on top with
black jeans. He looks somehow smaller sitting at the table and when he looks up and notices
Seungmin, his eyes grow adorably wide.
Seungmin kind of has to remind himself that they’ve broken up and it wouldn’t be
appropriate for him to run up and hug him.
They order drinks first to get that out of the way and after a few moments of very awkward
silence, Minho breaks it first.
“I...I wanted to tell you,” he says, his voice almost too quiet. “Because I felt you sort of had
the right to know.”
Seungmin doubts he sort of has the right to know anything at this point. They’re practically a
divorced couple by now. Two separate lives, no ring on either of their fingers.
“I’m moving away,” Minho says and Seungmin feels like he punched him in the gut.
It takes him a good minute to even be able to talk. “...away? Where?”
“Busan,” Minho replies and Seungmin can feel the fates laughing at him.
Like some sort of dramatic irony. He’d left Busan, he’d left his best and only friend alone
there and now, not even two years later, here he is. And the person he cares most about is
leaving...for Busan.
“Why?”
Then Minho clams up and Seungmin lets out a deep breath. Right, this was why they broke
up. Because Minho doesn’t tell him things.
“Well…” he manages to say after a moment of thinking it through. “I hope Busan is good to
you.”
“I hope so too,” Minho nods. “And I hope...whatever you want to do in life...you succeed.”
Seungmin sighs and it feels like an empty gesture at this point. A throwaway comment that
means nothing.
They don’t talk for a few minutes. Neither really know what to say. Then, just like before,
Minho breaks the silence first.
“Hey.”
Seungmin looks up to see Minho putting on a brave smile. “No matter what happens, you’re
still my first.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Everything,” Minho tells him. “First boyfriend, first sex...first love.”
And there it is. Minho had never told him he loved him and Seungmin never said it either.
Their relationship was too short and neither felt like it would ever be the right time but there
it is and Seungmin can’t ignore it either.
Somewhere between the first day he’d met Minho, all beaten up and bloody, to now, he’d
fallen in love with him. And so had Minho.
Seungmin’s throat is dry. His eyes want to cry but he won’t let them. This isn’t the beginning
of anything, it’s the end. It’s a large gaping wound in his heart and he wants to clog it with
something to stop the bleeding. To stem the massive hole Minho had left there.
“You…” he begins and his throat closes up. Minho waits patiently as Seungmin gathers
himself to try again. “You...really are amazing.”
Minho’s eyebrows rise. “I am?”
Seungmin nods. “No one stands a chance against you, Minho. I didn’t and no one else ever
will either. I hope you know that.”
He gets the feeling Minho doesn’t realise just how powerful he is. How dangerous. Seungmin
should have known the second he saw those cat-eyes, he was fucked. Anyone else who will
ever see this boy will be the same. Fucked with a capital F.
One day, he really hopes Minho will find someone who breaks his heart as much as he’s
broken Seungmin’s.
Minho walks out of his life the next week. He leaves him at Seoul station with a kiss on his
cheek, his scent clinging to Seungmin’s clothes. He leaves him standing there at the train
gates, watching his form disappearing out of his life as quickly as he’d entered it.
PRESENT DAY
Seungmin puts away the last plate and leans against the sink. His fingers are pruned from the
water and Jeongin’s still sweeping the floor.
He’s on closing duty today. Which means he has to wait until everyone else leaves before
checking over the restaurant one more time and locking it up. His eyes flick to Jeongin, sweet
little Jeongin with the broom. The other had been somewhat distant this morning and
Seungmin knows better than to ask now.
Anything to do with Jeongin and he knows better than to press it. Chan obviously knows
something and if Seungmin isn’t meant to know, then he won’t ask.
He turns his gaze to the main hall. Hyunjin is putting the chairs up on the table.
Seungmin can still remember meeting him again. Here in this restaurant. He’d started a year
earlier than Hyunjin and by the time Hyunjin came along, Seungmin already knew the secrets
underneath this place. He looked into Hyunjin’s eyes and saw only black. The warm
chocolate hue long dead and gone, replaced with something dark.
He wonders if Jeongin sees something different. If Hyunjin warms up around him, if that
playful, almost childlike softness of his eyes comes back when he’s alone with him.
He wonders if Hyunjin looks at Seungmin and sees the same blackness. Something that died
and never came back. Something that killed Seungmin’s humanity.
Fuck, do any of them have any humanity left? Seungmin doubts it.
A giggle then draws his attention to the middle of the room where Jisung has Minho in his
arms and is twirling him around the room. Minho’s face is lit up so beautifully, his arms
wrapped around Jisung’s shoulders and the smile on Jisung’s face is just the same as
Seungmin’s used to be. Enamoured, enraptured, absolutely captivated.
Fucked with a capital F.
Does Minho tell Jisung all his secrets? Does he trust Jisung enough? Does he let him in?
Questions Seungmin never asks. Seungmin, now the quiet and sometimes sarcastic presence
in the corner of the kitchen. Seungmin, who was saved by Chan when his step father proved
himself to be more of a douchebag than he could have ever thought possible.
After his mother married the man, their marriage had lasted one year. After he moved in, he
started doing things Seungmin wasn’t aware of at first. He lost his job, he drank, he spent his
mother’s money. He was always a snide asshole to Seungmin but now he was even more so.
His mother and new step-father started fighting. Light at first, then screaming in the night.
Then more alcohol, more screaming until he threw the first punch.
It was suddenly like living in a nightmare. His mother, wearing sunglasses inside, insisted her
husband never meant it and god if Seungmin didn’t beg her, didn’t try to get her away from
him.
Then that night. That night that he went too far, drank too much, threw her against the wall so
hard…
Seungmin woke up to blood all over the floor and his step-father, missing.
He died when his mother did.
And when Chan tracked him down, one year later, he presented Seungmin with his step-
father. Freshly bound and tied to the table.
And Seungmin’s wounds were still raw. Seungmin’s anger was still raw. He should have
hesitated, he should have stopped himself but he didn’t. Every single stab of the knife into
that piece of shit’s chest felt like heaven when it shouldn’t have.
He threw up afterwards. The gravity of the murder he’d just committed hit him all at once.
Even moreso the horrifying realisation that he’d enjoyed it. That he’d thoroughly enjoyed
taking the life of a man who’d killed his mother. A piece of shit who didn’t deserve to walk
the earth and breathe a second longer.
Chan had footage of him doing it. Killing the man responsible for murdering his mother. And
it was at that moment that Seungmin knew he’d be working for Chan forever. The thought
would have been terrifying if Chan didn’t also promise to pay him and house him in a nice
apartment in Busan.
It was...a strange compromise but one that Seungmin somehow managed to find a way to
accept.
Then Minho walked back into his life. Then Hyunjin.
Now he’s here, standing in the kitchen, watching Jeongin sweep the floor and thinking
there’ll be no happy ending here. Not for any of them. Every single one of them have blood
on their hands and it would be terrifying if Seungmin wasn’t already long dead inside.
“Seungmin?” Felix says, dragging Seungmin’s attention out of his mind and onto the blonde
standing next to him. “You okay?”
Hyunjin meets his gaze through the window and for a flicker of a moment, Seungmin thinks
he can see that warmth again. But it’s gone after a split second, replaced instead with the
same cold indifference he feels every day since his mother died.
“Yeah,” he replies quietly. “I’m fine.”
Inside his mind is silence. Dead silence.
Chapter End Notes

Helloooo!
For those of you wanting me to get back to the main story, I am sorry. It's fighting me
right now and I didn't want to just not update for months on end so, for now, we are
dipping into backstories. Who knows, maybe, I'll be able to get the main chapter up next
time. Fingers crossed.
Seungmin's story was more difficult than I realised it would be. Mainly because his
story is kind of split in two with so many similarities between the two. It fought me
tooth and nail, is what I'm trying to say XD Still not totally satisfied with it but I can't
fight it again, it wins.
Thank you all of you who read and leave me comments. This story would have honestly
died in my head ages ago if not for your support.
For those who are on twitter, please feel free to follow me! Starting now I'm going to
start posting previews of upcoming chapters and new mood boards for them so if you're
interested, follow, like, retweet, whatever you like :)
Now, to get back to the fight at hand, hopefully Innie's doing alright :)
Love you all and see you next time!

XIII: Post Tenebras, Lux
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
The Chief of Police had a lot of friends in a lot of high places.
As a man who had dedicated his life to his work, at the expense of his wife and son, he’d
made some strong connections and it had taken years and years of careful cultivation, so
many social events, after-work drinking sessions and favours to reach the position he was in
now.
When Jeongin was finally released from the asylum, those friends in high places paid off
brilliantly. His past was overlooked, any allegations about killing animals erased and the
chief had managed to place his son in the academy with relative ease.
It wasn’t all about lying. The chief never believed his son was capable of murdering animals
so when his wife said that was what he’d been doing, naturally he didn’t believe her. He also
didn’t believe Jeongin should have been in the asylum in the first place. So desperate was he
to believe his son was normal (a bit of a weakling but that can be fixed) that he was willing to
completely overlook anyone who told him there was something psychologically wrong with
Jeongin.
He just needed to toughen up. No more spending time with his mother, his son needed to be a
man. Hence the academy.
But among the long, long list of mental and physical disorders he ignored, a glaring red mark
in Jeongin’s history was his medical history.
Jeongin can remember one terrible night when he was carried into the emergency room. At
the age of nine, he was no stranger to hospital visits. He was a sick child and it seemed that
almost everything that went around, he was bound to catch it. Call it a shitty immune system
or a response to the stress around him, the fact was that between the age of 0 to 14, Jeongin
was sick.
A lot.
“Help!” his mother screams, carrying her son as his head lolls uselessly on her shoulder.
Jeongin is conscious but only just. His mind is awake, actively aware of what he’s feeling.
Everything’s too hot, every touch is too much. His stomach is aching and he can taste blood
in his mouth. He can barely speak, only moan in pain as the doctors rush to her and take him
out of her arms.
Noise, too much noise. Too much light. Jeongin wants to shield his eyes from the invasive
hospital lights but he can’t. He’s placed on a gurney and when he turns his head, all he can
see is the terrified look on his mothers face.
The poor woman. Because of him, she’s a regular in the hospital. Every single time Jeongin
has to come in, there she is. Terror in her eyes, tears, near hysterical screaming and a doctor
trying to calm her down.
He’s taken away, into the emergency room and he can barely focus. All he sees are moving
walls, shadows dressed in white with masks and far too much light. Everything burns,
everything hurts and when he tries to speak, his throat feels like sandpaper.
“Yang Jeongin again?” someone in a mask says. “This poor kid, wasn’t he in here just last
week?”
Jeongin wants to answer but he can’t, he can feel a pinch in his arm but has no energy to lift
his head and look to see what it is. Probably a needle.
“Yes and the week before that, his mother says his immune system is extremely weak.”
Jeongin’s gaze focuses on the head doctor hovering above him. The man has cold hands as he
opens Jeongin’s left eye and shines a light to his pupils. The invasive light goes straight to
Jeongin’s brain and he nearly screams from the pain.
“Give me his medical record?” the head doctor asks.
A shuffle, the sound of papers and Jeongin can barely breathe. He just wants the pain gone,
he wants someone to give him drugs to take it away. Something. Anything.
“Doctor, we really should figure out what’s wrong with him,” someone says as the head
doctor starts sifting through the pages of Jeongin’s medical record. “Perhaps some
morphine-?”
“No,” the head doctor interrupts, eyebrows furrowing as he takes in the information before
him. “No, no drugs. Not yet.”
“Doctor?”
Jeongin wants to beg, he wants to plead that they just take this pain away. Even if it means
killing him, take it away. But when his gaze focuses on the head doctor, he can see the
perplexed look on his face.
“This boy has been to five different hospitals in three different cities,” the head doctor notes.
“They’ve suspected measles, mumps, meningitis, even cancer but…”
He trails off, Jeongin closes his eyes and he can feel a tear slipping down his temple. The
pain is pulsing from his stomach, it’s almost too much.
“Nurse,” the head doctor then says, his voice a little firmer than before. “Knock him out.
Someone bring me his mother, I think I know what’s wrong.”
“What is it?”
When Jeongin opens his eyes, he can see the head doctor looking straight at him. Concern
and worry in his eyes but also a strange sort of determination, as though he’s just figured out
a riddle and is about to answer it. His cold hand touches Jeongin’s forehead and Jeongin cries
at the contact. The cold hand against his heated skin is almost heavenly and when he looks
up, the doctor’s eyes turn kind.
“Muncha-”
Jeongin doesn’t get the chance to hear the rest because someone injects something into his
arm and he’s out in seconds.
When he wakes up, it feels like years and years later. He opens his eyes and it takes a few
seconds of disorientation to realise he’s not in the hospital anymore, but in the back of a car.
He can hear the hum of the engine, he can see the streetlights passing his window and when
he sits up, he sees his mother in the drivers seat.
Her eyebrows are knitted in anger, knuckles white as she clutches the wheel and when she
notices Jeongin sitting up, she smiles.
“Hey, love.”
Jeongin blinks. The pain isn’t gone but it’s at least toned down a lot. Like a dull ache. He
looks around but he can’t recognise the night roads.
“Where are we?” he asks. “Why aren’t we in the hospital?”
His mother scoffs. “Those quacks wouldn’t recognise a common cold, let alone what was
wrong with you,” she says and he recognises the anger in her tone. This happened the last
time they left the hospital in a hurry, or the time before that.
“I’m taking you to a specialised hospital,” she tells him. “With doctors who actually know
what they’re doing.”
Another town, another hospital.
She reaches back and pulls a dark blue blanket up on Jeongin’s lap. “Sleep, sweetie,” she tells
him. “We’ll be there in a few hours.”
Jeongin, too tired, too sore, too confused to argue, does as he’s told and lies back down on the
backseat. The concern in the head doctor's eyes fades into the recesses of his mind as
unconsciousness finally takes him away.
-
When Jeongin wakes up in Hyunjin’s bed, the first thing he sees is the alarm clock right next
to his side of the bed. Red, glowing numbers showing the early hour of the morning.
As his senses slowly return to him, he registers the warmth of the blankets on his body. The
heat pressed into his back and a slow, steady breathing against the back of his neck where
Hyunjin is curled up against him, spooning him with his arm tight around Jeongin’s waist.
They’d had the day off yesterday. After the Woojin incident, Jeongin had been in no state to
work and Hyunjin wouldn’t leave him alone. They’d gone home and it had taken Jeongin
seven hours to even speak and when he finally did, it was only to ask if Hyunjin had any eggs
so he could make lunch.
They didn’t talk about Woojin or about the fact that Jeongin had more or less clocked out
whilst ordering Chan and Hyunjin to bury him alive. Hyunjin never asked either but he kept
watching Jeongin that whole time, eyes on him as though he were some sort of unpredictable
predator that could bite at any time. Or a wounded bird that needed his constant attention.
Now here they lie naked in bed because Hyunjin had insisted on the shower and neither saw
the point in wearing any clothes to bed.
Hyunjin’s fingers are warm on Jeongin’s stomach. Jeongin doesn’t really think about it as he
gently feels Hyunjin’s fingers with the tips of his own. His digits take in the smooth, soft
skin, tracing up to his wrist and further up his forearm draped over his waist. Jeongin closes
his eyes and just...feels.
It’s silent for a good ten minutes. Just the sound of their breathing and the occasional passing
car far below the apartment complex. In this peace, Jeongin can almost convince himself that
they’re somewhere else entirely. Somewhere safer.
“You’ve been feeling my arm for the last ten minutes,” Hyunjin mumbles sleepily, his voice a
little muffled with his lips pressed against the back of Jeongin’s neck. “Feeling for scales?”
Jeongin snorts, he brings his hand back down to Hyunjin’s and laces their fingers together.
“You haven’t turned into the devil incarnate yet.”
“Fuck, I could really use the wings.”
Jeongin giggles this time, he muffles his laughter against the pillow as he feels Hyunjin’s arm
tighten around him as the other slowly wakes up. Hyunjin sits up just enough to look at the
clock over Jeongin’s head and groans when he sees the time.
“What the fuck, Innie?” he mumbles, flopping back down onto the pillow. “Go back to
sleep.”
“Can’t,” Jeongin confesses quietly. “You sleep, I’ll just stay still.”
“Can’t sleep when you’re conscious.”

Jeongin pauses, curious and turns his head as far as he can in an attempt to see Hyunjin. He
can barely see a flick of his blonde hair from his position and Hyunjin is pressed too close to
let him roll onto his back.
“Really?”
Hyunjin hums an affirmative and hugs Jeongin close to his chest. “If you have something on
your mind, get it out so we can sleep.”
Jeongin thinks it over. He has a lot on his mind, too much to go over in one night so he settles
for the easiest thing.
“How did the others get involved in God’s Menu?”
Hyunjin snorts. “Wondering how we all became murderous cannibals?”
Yes. “No I just...well yes…”
He pushes back and Hyunjin shuffles far enough to let Jeongin roll onto his back. He’s finally
able to look up at the other hovering over him. Hyunjin is half braced over him, his arm
propping him up and what surprises Jeongin most is that he actually looks tired. Sleepy, half-
open eyes, messy bed head, it’s adorable.
Jeongin bites his lip and feels a rush shoot down his spine when Hyunjin’s eyes automatically
flick to them.
“You mentioned Chan bought your lawyer, was that how you ended up in God’s Menu?” he
asks, voice soft as he reaches a hand up to push a stray hair back from Hyunjin’s face.
Hyunjin nods. “After I got out, I needed a job and a place to stay, Chan offered both. It was
weird but I didn’t refuse.”
“And Felix?” Jeongin asks. He deliberately keeps back the fact that he knows Felix is Chan’s
brother. If he wasn’t meant to know about it, chances are that Hyunjin definitely isn’t
supposed to know.
Hyunjin shrugs. “Came with Chan. They knew each other before I met them. Fe started at the
same time as me, he needed a job and Chan just so happened to have one for him.”
Jeongin nods, but when he thinks about Felix and his sunny personality, the fact that he hugs
everyone and sometimes comes into the restaurant with homemade brownies - he just can’t
connect that to someone who would be totally cool with murder and cannibalism. The two
images of sunshine Felix and Felix somehow managing to murder someone are so strikingly
different that Jeongin has trouble even picturing it.
“But how did he…? I mean…”
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow and Jeongin has to clear his throat. “You remember the initiation
thing I had to do? Did you guys do it too?”
“Almost everyone did,” Hyunjin says in a matter-of-factly tone. “It’s called insurance.
Remember you were filmed too.”
Yes Jeongin has hazy memories of someone filming him during that night. But at the time
he’d been so terrified that he really couldn’t focus on it too long. Now he knows in the back
of his mind that he’s fucked, that’s blackmail right there.
If God’s Menu goes down, if Chan goes down, he’ll take everyone down with him. That’s
what that initiation was really about.
“How did he…?” Jeongin struggles to ask because he still can’t imagine it. “How did Felix
do it?”
Hyunjin’s quiet for a moment and Jeongin can’t read his face. It’s probably one of the most
infuriating things about Hyunjin because when he wants to show emotion, it’s clear as day
but most of the time, he’s naturally unreadable. Even to someone who spends most of his
time studying his face, like Jeongin.
“It was someone he knew,” Hyunjin says at last. “Someone who’d hurt him before. Felix
didn’t hesitate when he saw him on the table and if he hadn’t done it, Changbin, Jisung,
Minho or Chan would have happily done it for him. I remember...none of them were
forgiving towards that man.”
Jeongin has to pause and think about that. It makes sense though, it’s a lot easier to imagine
Felix killing someone out of vengeance rather than a total stranger.
“Seungmin said he threw up during his.”
“I wasn’t there for Seungmin’s one,” Hyunjin confesses. “Seungmin was there before me and
Felix. I’m not sure if Minho had to do one.”
“But…” Jeongin hesitates, he thinks it over for a moment and continues. “But how….how
did that place….why?”
Hyunjin huffs, clearly amused. “That’s at least two different questions, Innie.”
“Why is this happening?”
“Why else?” Hyunjin shrugs. “Chan’s father has enemies and a lot of them. What better way
to get rid of the evidence than to eat it?”
Jeongin shakes his head, his mind is a mess and these answers aren’t clearing anything. In
fact, it’s doing the opposite and only making him more confused.
“Well he’s fucking up because that’s why I was sent here. People, too many people, have
been disappearing and the police already know to look at God’s Menu,” Jeongin frowns.
“They just don’t know what’s happening there.”
“And until they have evidence, hard evidence, they have no foot to stand on,” Hyunjin points
out. “Chan is powerful. His father is powerful. If the police want to go snooping around in
the restaurant on a legal warrant, they need damn good evidence. Chan’s father can snap all
their careers in two and they know it. That’s why they sent a little boy like you.”
Jeongin pokes Hyunjin’s side, hard. “I’m not a little boy.”
“Tiny, widdle, Innie,” Hyunjin teases and squirms when Jeongin pokes him again. “Okay,
okay, Jesus, I need my ribs.”
Jeongin curls onto his side and pouts. “Pedophile.”
He can hear Hyunjin laughing but decidedly keeps his back to him. Before long, Hyunjin
resumes his earlier position and snuggles into Jeongin’s back, his arm curling over his side
and pulling him close until they’re flush together. Hyunjin’s lips press a warm kiss to the
back of Jeongin’s neck and Jeongin shivers in response.
They’re silent for another moment. Only the sound of the occasional car passing by. Jeongin
watches the light from outside shift slowly along Hyunjin’s bedroom walls. Occasionally, the
shadow of a windy tree branch obscures the light, casting shadows on the walls and it
reminds Jeongin of his old bedroom back in Seoul.
He used to lie there for hours too, watching the shadows on his walls, telling himself a story
when he couldn’t sleep alone.
He’s not thinking when the question slips out of his mouth in a whisper.
“Why did you choose me?”
All he gets in response is another kiss to the back of his neck and the arm around him pulling
him closer to Hyunjin’s warm chest.
“Sleep, Innie.”
News of Chan’s engagement hits every single major news outlet in South Korea over the next
few days.
It’s strange to Jeongin. He often forgets that Chan, as the son of the Prime Minister, is the
closest thing to royalty this country has. He’s young, he’s successful and he’s easy on the
eyes, it’s too easy for the media to spin the story however they want and Chan makes
absolutely no attempt to stop it.
However shady their reputation amongst the police, however much the police suspect Chan is
at the head of disappearances, there’s no denying he’s a media darling. Social status aside,
he’s charming, charismatic and in the days following his announcement, he agrees to almost
every interview thrown at him and he charms them all.
People shouldn’t be afraid of Chan’s father being the president, they should be afraid of
Chan. However powerful and hungry his father is, he’s nothing compared to his calculating
son.
Fortunately for him, Chan has absolutely no interest in being the president and it’s some form
of familial love that compels him to move heaven and hell to ensure his father will be.
That’s the only way Jeongin can rationalise the way Chan moves with calculated preciseness
to clean not only his public image but also his father’s. Charity donations, glowing
interviews, large events hosted at God’s Menu, Chan works overtime and his efforts are paid
off when people start talking about Chan’s father becoming the next president.
“Okay guys,” Chan says, addressing his staff one morning after a particularly rough event
last night.
Jeongin is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He and Hyunjin had barely managed to get
themselves out of bed, showered and somehow Hyunjin hadn’t crashed the car on the way to
work. They’re not the only ones either, everyone else is tired too. Events at God’s Menu are
long, difficult and often involve working overtime.
Last night was a prime example.
“First of all, I’m so proud of how you guys dealt with last night,” Chan says. “We’re doing
great, you’re all going to be overpaid for it. I don’t know how you got through it but you did
and I’m really proud.”
“One of those assembly members pinched my ass,” Minho mutters quietly to Jisung.
Jeongin, who is within hearing range, looks up and notices the way Jisung kisses Minho’s
neck and hugs him from behind. As if to appease him from what was generally a shitty night
in the kitchen and on the main floor.
“We have one more,” Chan continues and it says a lot that no one groans in protest. Though
Jeongin is sure that no one wants another event, including Chan himself, no one protests it.
Not in front of Chan anyway.
“After this, I promise you all I will send you all on holiday. I will pay you triple what you’re
being paid, I will take care of you all but this last one has to be done very carefully.”
“Uh oh,” Felix mumbles.
Jeongin looks at him. “What?”
“When he says that, it usually only means one thing,” Felix tells him quietly. “Someone’s
gonna die.”
There’s a little voice in Jeongin’s head telling him he should be alarmed. The old him would
have stood there, stunned with wide eyes and a natural reluctance to have anything to do with
the very idea of murder. But it doesn’t come. What comes instead is a quietly horrifying
realisation that he doesn’t feel anything. Especially not the horror he knows he should be
feeling.
Hands slide in from behind and Hyunjin’s scent envelops his senses before the other cuddles
into his back and rests his chin on Jeongin’s shoulder. Jeongin leans back and out of the
corner of his eye, he can see the confused look on Felix’s face.
What?
“For your safety, I’m not going to go into detail about what’s going on,” Chan is saying and
Jeongin is trying to pay attention but it’s pretty hard when Hyunjin’s hands are sliding into
his pockets, warm fingers pressing against the thin fabric at his thighs.
Jeongin’s eyes almost flutter in response.
“If you have a specific individual job to do, I’ll let you know in private,” Chan finishes. “The
event is in two weeks so first things first, Minho, we need supplies.”
“On it,” Minho promises, wriggling himself out of Jisung’s grip to start on inventory.
“Meeting’s over, back to work people,” Chan claps. Then he meets Jeongin’s gaze and
Jeongin jolts. Did Chan realise he hadn’t really been paying attention?
“Innie,” Chan says, his index finger beckoning him closer. “With me.”
Hyunjin’s grip tightens, almost an instinctual reaction at this point. But when Chan turns
around, it’s quite clear there’s no arguing with this and to some point, Hyunjin must still trust
Chan because he does, eventually, let Jeongin go. But not without a kiss to his cheek.
Jeongin turns his head to the side and Felix still looks confused.
What?
“Innie,” Chan calls and Jeongin puts it to the back of his mind.
He follows Chan out the back door to the little office next to the building. As they enter,
Chan gestures to the guest seats and moves to take his own seat at the desk.
“Coffee?”
“No thanks.”
Chan shrugs and goes to make himself a cup. As he does, Jeongin squirms in his seat and
looks around. As it is, he’s already spent way more time in this office than he ever wants to.
However he does have to note that his previous visits here, he’d been in danger.
This time, he’s done absolutely nothing wrong.
“Innie, your father is going to be at this event.”
Jeongin freezes and for a moment, he’s not sure he heard correctly. He stares at Chan but
when it’s clear the other is serious, he struggles to come up with words for a few moments.
His father? He hasn’t seen his father in months and he’s spent a good long while hating him
for putting him in this position in the first place. Thanks to his father’s serious lack of
judgment, he’d sent his own son into the lions den and Jeongin cannot honestly say he hasn’t
already been eaten alive.
Something’s died in him and he suspects he already knows what. But unfortunately, the part
that died is also the part that would have cared about it.
A strange kind of apathy to your own fate is a strange place to be and most of the time,
Jeongin tries not to think about it too much.
“Why?” he finally asks.
Chan smiles. “He’ll be part of the group coming in for the event. He is the chief of police in
Seoul, after all. It’s important. I just thought I’d give you a heads up, he’ll be there.”
Jeongin blinks. He tries to identify how he feels about this and what comes out most is a
strange sort of numbness. As though he doesn’t know what to think, if he hates his father or
not, he can’t tell.
“Okay…”
“Your job for the night is very simple: keep an eye on your father and if he brings your
mother, keep them both close to you,” Chan advises. “Some of the meals are going to be
poisoned. Because you’re working in the kitchen, you’ll know which dishes are spiked, keep
your parents away from them.”
“Poison?” Jeongin frowns. “Isn’t that...a really dumb way to kill people? If people walk away
from that event and die, everyone will know to look at the restaurant.”
“Not if you use the right kind of poison,” Chan grins, pleased that Jeongin was concerned
about that. “I’m just giving you the heads up, your only job today is to make sure we don’t
poison your parents.”
Jeongin nods and again, he thinks he should at least feel horrified or guilty that they’re
openly talking about murdering people but he can’t. He can’t even fake it. Did something
change or did something that had always been there just wake up? He can’t tell.
“Can I ask you something, Innie?” Chan says, head tilting curiously.
Jeongin shrugs and Chan continues. “You know I know your history. When they let you out
of the asylum, your father immediately enrolled you into the police academy - I’m guessing
that wasn’t your idea.”
Jeongin sees no point in lying at this point. Not to Chan. It feels like Chan already knows
every single little bit about his life and in a way it’s kind of freeing. Saves him having to
explain that he spent a very long time in a straight jacket.
“My father always wanted me to be like him,” he admits quietly, his eyes faraway in thought.
“But...you know already, I wasn’t. I was with my mother and it was just us for a really long
time. He was too busy.”
Chan nods and Jeongin gets the feeling that this is something he understands right down to
his bones. After all, Chan isn’t someone who murdered his father like Hyunjin, Chan is
someone who was in a similar situation to him. An ambitious father whose expectations
rested very heavily on his son.
Just like Chan does what his father wants him to do, Jeongin had done the same.
“I didn’t argue when he told me he was going to send me to the academy,” Jeongin says, his
voice almost a soft whisper but loud enough that Chan can hear him. He stares down at his
lap and watches his fingers twist and entwine together, nerves. Old nerves. “I just...went.”
“I get it,” Chan replies. “My father says jump, I ask ‘how high’. He says run, I ask ‘how
far’.”
“He asks you to murder all his rivals…” Jeongin mutters.
It occurs to him, a split second later, that he should have kept that to himself but before he
can panic about it, Chan grins.
“Then I set up restaurants all around South Korea and use my influence to protect it whilst
his rivals are murdered and eaten,” Chan finishes without missing a beat. “I never said my
father is a good man, Innie. In fact, I know he’s not, but can you honestly tell me you’d deny
your father if he asked you to do something for him?”
Jeongin frowns. He’d like to say he would. If his father were the kind of man who made so
many enemies and had no problems with having them killed, would Jeongin stand against
him?
The answer is in his mind before the question even finishes. He hadn’t fought his father when
he was sent to the academy and he’d done his father’s bidding when he was sent to Busan on
this suicide mission. He remembers the relief he’d felt when his father came home as he was
being taken away to the asylum and even now, after all this, he still feels it. An almost natural
need to win his father’s approval, to make him proud.
If his father were a different man. If his father were anything like Chan’s father - ambitious
and perhaps even cruel - Jeongin would still do as he asked. Just as Chan does.
Maybe it’s love? Or maybe it’s simply because he’s his father.
“You’re just lucky your father is a good man,” Chan shrugs. “I won’t judge his parenting
skills, that’s not my place - especially in front of you. But when I asked to meet with him, the
first thing he did was ask how you were - that’s a sign that he may be a halfway decent father
at least. It’s something.”
“It’s something,” Jeongin agrees quietly.
He should get up and leave. Their meeting is over, he has his task - look after his parents. But
all this talk about their fathers and now Jeongin has a question.
“Hyung?”
“Mm?”
“Where’s your mother?”
He meets Chan’s eyes and is privy to the moment something changes. When talking about his
father, Chan had been lighter, honest. The mere mention of his mother changes the air
immediately and Jeongin watches Chan’s eyes darken a little.
“She’s um...she’s not well,” Chan finally says, a little quiet and distant. “For her own safety,
we had her admitted years ago.”
Jeongin’s eyebrows rise. Admitted? All he can think of is the scent of stale bleach, the
uncomfortable twist of the straightjacket and he shivers a little. Is that where Chan’s mother
is?
But then why hadn’t that been on Chan’s police file? Did the police not know where Chan’s
mother was? All he can remember reading on Chan’s file is that his father is the current prime
minister. They never mentioned a mother.
“I know about your mother,” Chan adds and Jeongin shivers.
Of course he does, Chan had done his research the second he found out Jeongin was the son
of the chief of police. Jeongin isn’t surprised but still, the idea that Chan knows about his
mother is still a little concerning.
“You got sick a lot as a kid,” Chan says. “I saw your medical record.”
Jeongin shrugs, what does that have to do with anything? “I was a kid. I got sick a lot.”
“Yeah no, this is a lot,” Chan replies as he digs into his drawer and pulls out a file.
He hands it over and when Jeongin opens it, he’s a little surprised to see his medical record.
This is a sealed file, protected by privacy and yet here it is and it’s been sitting in Chan’s
desk.
He’d been thorough with his research.
Jeongin’s medical record is long. Pages and pages of details about doctors visits, hospital
visits, vaccinations and operations. Jeongin reads over it and frowns. “So what? I was sick a
lot.”
Chan looks like he has something on his mind and Jeongin closes the file. “I had a weak
immune system when I was a kid.”
Chan doesn’t look convinced. “My medical record is one page long. Not even that, it’s half a
page long,” he says. “Yours is fifty four pages and that’s not including the vaccinations.”
“So?”
“So a weak immune system is one thing, this is…” Chan trails off and Jeongin frowns.
He looks back over his medical record and he can remember most of them. When he was a
kid, he did get sick a lot. Strange rashes on his skin, bleeding and so many vomiting bugs. He
remembers going with his mother to the hospital time after time after time again and his
father was never there. His mother had to deal with that. He’s just thankful he grew up
relatively healthy.
“You know what? Take that medical record with you. It’s yours anyway,” Chan decides.
“And think about it.”
Think about what? The fact that he was a sickly kid? Jeongin is still thoroughly confused
when he leaves Chan’s office and heads back in through the back door. He tucks the file into
his bag and notes the thickness of the folder as he shoves it in. Too many pages. Was it really
that unusual?
Chan’s words haunt him even as he takes his place at the kitchen bench and gets to work. He
can’t help but feel something’s off. Either Chan knows something he doesn’t know...or Chan
knows something he doesn’t want to know.
Just then, a laugh pulls his attention up to the window. In the main room, he can see Felix
standing next to Hyunjin. Hyunjin looks slightly amused but Felix is cracking up, his hands
on his stomach, bent over and giggling so hard tears leak from his eyes. Obviously, Hyunjin
just said something that set him off.
Jeongin tilts his head, he doesn’t think much of it until Seungmin looks up as well and snorts.
“For the record,” he says. “Those two have totally fucked.”
Jeongin’s eyes widen. Felix and Hyunjin?! He looks at the two of them and notes the way
Felix is holding Hyunjin’s arm to keep himself up whilst he laughs, the way Hyunjin seems a
lot warmer with Felix than anyone else in the restaurant.
Jeongin looks down. He’s felt jealousy before and he doesn’t like it. It’s like a rot, festering in
his gut, making him think horrible things and Felix has been so kind to him. He doesn’t want
to be jealous of Felix. But when he looks back up again and sees Hyunjin leaning over to
mutter something in Felix’s ear, causing the other to laugh harder, Jeongin bites his lip and he
can’t help it.
It feels ugly.
A week passes and Jeongin doesn’t bring it up. Mostly because he doesn’t want to be jealous
of someone like Felix but also because he knows damn well that Hyunjin isn’t the sort of
person who’d stand for it. He and Hyunjin had never said aloud that they were anything
exclusive, it was just sort of implied but what if it wasn’t? What if Jeongin just assumed?
After all, their relationship is all sorts of fucked up. Hyunjin had started off blackmailing
him, then threatening his life, saving his life, a weird twisted dynamic where they loved to
piss each other off, turn each other on and threaten each others lives. There’s no healthy
relationship here. Much less one that even warrants the use of the word ‘boyfriend’.
But then what are they? Why is he living in Hyunjin’s place? Why does Hyunjin keep saving
him and why is he the only thing standing between him and death at the hands of Chan or
someone else?
Questions Jeongin fears the answers to.
On Tuesday, Seungmin is on lockup duty. As Jeongin finishes up his shift, Felix heads out
with a wave goodbye. Hyunjin wanders in from the main room and walks towards Jeongin.
“Ready?”
“Let me just go to the bathroom first,” Jeongin says as he turns the tap off and dries his hands
on a teatowel. “I’ve been busting all day.”
Hyunjin waves him off with a slightly amused smile and Jeongin disappears into the
bathroom. He rushes in and when he finally relieves himself, his mind begins to wander.
What had Chan meant? The medical file is still burning in his bag, he hasn’t taken it out
since. He’s almost too afraid to look through it but there’s a niggling voice in the back of his
head that’s telling him he doesn’t want to remember the truth of it all.
With a groan, he washes his hands and heads back out. Just as he leaves the bathroom, he
pauses at the sound of raised voices in the kitchen.
“We are not talking about this, Hyunjin,” Seungmin says, his voice sharp and unusually
angry.
“Too fucking bad, you’re the one who brought it up,” Hyunjin snaps.
“All I did was ask what the fuck happened to you!”
“And you know damn well what happened! You knew what he was doing!”
“You told me not to call the cops!”
Jeongin frowns. All this time he’s only ever seen Hyunjin and Seungmin say one or two
words to each other. He presses himself against the wall and inches towards the door where
their voices grow louder and clearer. When he peeks in, he can see Seungmin leaning against
the bench on one side of the room whilst Hyunjin glares at him from the other side.
Seungmin glares at Hyunjin. “You cannot blame me for what your father did to you.”
“I blame you for leaving me,” Hyunjin sneers. “I blame you for even talking to me when you
found me in that park. You should have left me alone.”
“If I’d known what kind of trainwreck you were going to turn out to be, yeah I would have
left you alone!” Seungmin screams. “Fuck, Hyunjin. Keep going the way you’re going and
everyone is going to leave you alone! You think you’re gonna walk out of this after all the
shit you do for Chan?”
“Shut up, Seungmin,” Hyunjin warns, his voice low and dangerous but Seungmin is already
laughing. There’s no mirth in his laughter, only bitterness.
“If you want to be left alone, then you’re about to get your wish. I’ll leave you alone, I’ll
never talk to you again if you want. But it’s only a matter of time until Innie sees firsthand
what you can do-”
“Shut the fuck up!” Hyunjin screams and Jeongin jumps. Hyunjin’s voice cracked. He’s
never heard him do that before.
“When Innie finds out what you do for Chan, he’ll leave you too. Just like everyone else and
you know why? Because you’re a fucking psychopath, Hyunjin. You had a chance when we
were kids but not anymore, I can’t see it anymore.”
“See what?” Hyunjin hisses.
“Your eyes,” Seungmin says and he doesn’t sound angry anymore. He sounds sad. “I used to
see it all the time when we were kids. Not anymore. Any chance you ever had of being
normal is long gone now and all that’s left is this...this shadow I don’t even recognise.”
Silence, uncomfortable biting silence stretches out far too long. Jeongin presses himself
against the wall and he knows by now he’s taking too long but he can’t bring himself to come
out in the middle of this. He didn’t even know Seungmin and Hyunjin were friends as kids.
“Yeah?” Hyunjin’s chuckle is low, bitter. “And whose fault is that?”
“Yours,” Seungmin answers without missing a beat. “I’ll accept responsibility for killing my
step-father to avenge my mother. I’ll accept that I haven’t been able to sleep at night because
of it. But I won’t accept responsibility for you becoming a monster, Hyunjin. That was all
you.”
Jeongin hears Hyunjin’s boots on the kitchen tiles and for a moment, he thinks the other is
coming to find him. But then the back door slams and he realises the other went outside
instead. Then all that’s left is the sound of Seungmin breathing, a little ragged from the fight.
Jeongin bites his lip, he slowly picks himself up and shuffles out to the kitchen where he can
see Seungmin leaning against the bench, staring into his reflection in the polished steel as if it
will give him answers.
“Hyunjin’s outside,” he mutters without looking up.
Jeongin nods, he grabs his bag and turns back to see the other hasn’t moved.
“Night Seungmin,” he mumbles.
Seungmin doesn’t answer and when Jeongin heads out into the cool night air, he spots
Hyunjin leaning against the building, cigarette dangling between his lips and eyes scanning
the night sky. As if it will give him answers.
Hyunjin turns to look at him and Jeongin wouldn’t have been able to tell he’d just been in a
heated argument. The smirk is the same as he pulls the cigarette out and walks up to him.
“You took your time,” he comments as he leads Jeongin back to the car.
Jeongin smiles. “Yeah, I ate something that didn’t agree with me.”
He doesn’t want to bring up the fight. Instead he follows Hyunjin home, his mind reeling
with the new information.
That night, Hyunjin sleeps holding Jeongin a little tighter than normal, as though afraid
Jeongin will disappear.
The night before the event, Jeongin finally opens his medical file.
In Hyunjin’s room, he uses a bare wall to stick the pages up side by side until they create a
giant square. Each record, every word laid bare as he sits on the floor and looks over them.
The records had come from so many different hospitals and clinics, so many doctors. Jeongin
remembers that every time the doctors floundered or couldn’t find what was supposedly
wrong with him, his mother would take him to another one.
He remembers he always used to feel like shit. Rashes, cold sweats, vomitting, fevers, he had
everything under the sun and every time the doctors saw him, they had different reasons for
his pains and illnesses. Every time, his mother was there, tears in her eyes and a doctor trying
to keep her from breaking down.
But almost everything else is blurry.
Jeongin sits in the room, looking over the files for what feels like hours before the door opens
and Hyunjin walks in with two plates of food which he sets on the floor next to Jeongin.
“Ham sandwich and grapes,” the blonde announces. “I didn’t know whether or not you liked
tomato so I just left it out.”
He then sits down on the floor behind Jeongin and squirms closer until Jeongin is sitting with
his back against Hyunjin’s chest and Hyunjin’s legs on either side. His arms lock over
Jeongin’s stomach and he rests his head on Jeongin’s shoulder to look up at the papers.
“What’s that?”
“My medical record,” Jeongin mumbles, his hand perching on Hyunjin’s arm. “Chan gave it
to me.”
“It’s a lot of pages.”
“I was sick a lot.”
“Were you?”
There’s doubt in his voice. Like he knows something Jeongin doesn’t know and Jeongin is
reminded that Hyunjin must have seen this too. When he was researching information Woojin
had left open and easy to find, he must have found this as well.
“Chan says there’s something I’m not getting about this,” Jeongin says, almost hesitant as his
fingers trace up and down Hyunjin’s arm. “Kids get sick all the time, don’t they?”
Hyunjin is quiet for a moment and Jeongin stares up at the papers. He can’t remember most
of the times he was sick. He remembers when he was well, when his mother would put him
in modelling jobs, when it was just him and her against the world because his father was
never home. The times he was ill, he calls the blurry times because he can’t remember
anything.
“Innie,” Hyunjin finally says, his fingers drumming harmlessly against Jeongin’s stomach. “I
think you know what was wrong with you when you were a kid. You don’t need me to say
it.”
“But I do,” Jeongin objects as Hyunjin leans over to grab a sandwich. “Hyunjin, I don’t
remember.”
“You do, you just don’t want to,” Hyunjin tells him. He prods Jeongin’s lips with the
sandwich until the younger reluctantly opens his mouth to take a bite.
Jeongin’s eyes turn back to the wall and he remembers his mother wearing a red dress when
she brought him into the hospital for an operation on his stomach. He remembers the
neighbours comforting her, bringing gifts and presents for both her and him. It’s a blur of
memories and he shakes his head.
Hyunjin doesn’t say anything. He simply eats and makes Jeongin eat too. The papers on the
wall flutter with the air coming from the open window. Jeongin leaves them up there all night
long and they haunt him with a truth blaring from every single page. A truth he doesn’t want
to admit.
“Careful,” Felix says as he hands a small yellow box to Jeongin. “One pinch of this shit will
be enough,”
They can hear their guests starting to file into the main room. Music plays from the speakers
and in the kitchen, Jeongin, Felix and Seungmin are gathered around the cupcake mix. In
Jeongin’s hands, heavier than it should be, is a powder Jeongin hopes to never consume.
Chan had been very clear. The poison itself will not kill immediately. Especially in such a
small dose. The people who eat these cupcakes will go on with their night feeling almost
nothing. They’ll go on for days attending other events, flying around the world and erasing
any link to Gods Menu.
But the poison has no cure and it will kill them. Painfully and slowly. Chan had emphasized
that they were not to get even a single bit of it on the counter or anywhere on the floor.
Especially not on their skin.
The gloves Jeongin is wearing are heavy duty to protect his own hands. He barely breathes as
he opens the lid of the container and looks inside to see the powder is white with a slightly
yellow tinge.
“Why cupcakes?” Felix asks. “That’s the one thing I couldn’t figure out.”
“The main target has a sweet tooth,” Seungmin tells him. “And we’re only making enough to
get the ones we want.”
They separate the mixture into two bowls. One unpoisoned and the other poisoned. Carefully,
Jeongin tips the powder into one of the bowls. They watch it sit on top of the mixture, sinking
in slightly and when Jeongin is sure the container is empty, he closes it and wraps his gloves
around it. Felix then stirs, slowly so as not to accidentally shift anything out of the bowl.
They’ve never been so careful about mixtures before.
It’s not until they get the mixtures into the tin and into the oven that the three of them relax.
Just then, the doors swing open and Minho pokes his head inside.
“Innie,” he says. “Your parents are here.”
“Go say hi,” Felix says, an encouraging smile on his face as he pats Jeongin’s shoulder.
“We’ve got this, there’s nothing poisonous out there yet.”
“I’ll be back in a second,” Jeongin promises.
Felix and Seungmin return to their posts in the kitchen as Jeongin takes his apron off and
follows Minho through the doors to the main room. Out there, the music is much louder and
the room is packed with people in formalwear. There are dresses and suits everywhere,
champagne glasses and an endless sea of chatter.
Minho reaches behind himself to take Jeongin’s hand and lead him closer to the right side of
the room where his parents are standing near the window talking to each other.
Jeongin blinks. It’s been months since he’s seen his father and even longer than that for his
mother. Yet there they both are. His mother, dressed in a deep red evening dress with her long
brown locks tied back into a messy bun. His father, dressed in a black, three piece suit, hair
slicked back and looking nothing like himself.
They both look up when Jeongin comes close and it’s his mother who reacts first.
“Jeongin!” she gasps, her arms coming around her son to hold him tight. Her perfume
invades Jeongin’s senses and for a moment, all he can remember is when he used to live
alone with her. Those comforting days when it was just her and him against the world. He
feels like a child again and for a moment, he closes his eyes and rests his head on her
shoulder, his arms hugging her back as though nothing is wrong.
When she pulls back, there are already tears in her eyes.
“My baby, it’s been too long. You look so grown up!”
His father simply nods and Jeongin isn’t going to get much more than that from him. But
there’s something reserved in his gaze, he keeps looking around as though he half expects to
be jumped anytime.
“I wanted to come out and say hello,” Jeongin says, a smile naturally slipping onto his face as
he faces both his parents. “I can’t stay for now, I have work in the kitchen but I’ll come and
find you both later.”
Don’t eat the cupcakes is what he wants to say but he knows better.
His father is looking around and Jeongin knows what’s going on in his mind. After all, his
father had seen all the profiles too. His eyes linger a little too long on Hyunjin and Jeongin is
steadily reminded that most police believe Hyunjin did kill his father. He’d gotten away with
it on a technicality, some very good work from his lawyer.
His father doesn’t comment, he knows better. He knows what’s going on, Jeongin knows too
but his mother doesn’t. She still believes he’d moved to Busan and started working here of
his own accord.
She wouldn’t be able to handle the truth of the matter.
“I have to get back to work but I’ll come find you after the first course,” he promises. His
father merely nods but his mother looks close to tears with pride.
Jeongin turns on his heel and on his way back into the kitchen, a warm hand slides around his
waist and pulls him in.
“You look like your mother,” Hyunjin mutters in his ear.
Jeongin freezes. He can feel Hyunjin’s hand secure around his waist and can his parents see
this? He tries wriggling out and Hyunjin’s grip tightens.
“Don’t be shy,” he teases.
“Hyunjin, my parents don’t know that I’m-” Jeongin gasps when he feels Hyunjin’s hand
sliding to his ass.
“I know, that’s what makes this fun,” Hyunjin chuckles.
Somehow Jeongin manages to shrug him off. When he turns around he can see the amused
look on Hyunjin’s face and behind him, on the other side of the room, his father is watching.
Sharp eyes hadn’t missed a thing and Jeongin almost feels like shrinking.
He escapes quickly through the doors to the kitchen, his mind racing, unable to focus even as
he gets back to work.
“Sir.”
Chan fights to keep a smirk from appearing on his face. He slowly turns to find himself face
to face with Jeongin’s father. In the main room, the man isn’t dumb enough to attempt
anything and Chan has to commend him for his impressive control over his facial features.
Most people wouldn’t know how unhappy he is.
But he is. Chan’s been around enough high class psychopaths to know what it looks like
when someone is skilled at hiding what they really feel. The tells are in the way his pinky
finger twitches, the harder set of his eyebrows, the curl on his upper lip.
But Chan has to admit, the man knows how to play this game. He’d called him ‘sir’.
“Chief Yang,” he says, pleasant smile on full beam. In a room filled with the wealthy and
powerful, Chan knows better than to let himself falter. “What can I do for you?”
“May we talk alone?” the chief asks and his eyes flick to the corner of the room.
Chan follows his gaze to see Hyunjin gliding around the room, handing out flutes of
champagne and appetizers. He recalls seeing Jeongin come out to greet his parents earlier and
it takes him all of one second to connect the dots.
“You didn’t know?” he asks instead of acquiescing the request.
The chief’s left eye twitches and Chan whistles. “Does that make you love him less?”
“That is Hwang Hyunjin, he is-”
“I’m well aware of who my staff member is, sir,” Chan cuts him off smoothly. “As I’m sure
you’re aware that he was already proven innocent years ago. His record is clean.”
Something is cracking in the chief’s mask. Chan watches, almost fascinated. He could play
this game but he’s clearly in need of some practice.
“You swore to me that my son would be safe,” the chief adds, his voice low. Angry.
Chan nods. “And he is. Did you not just see him a few minutes ago? He’s healthy, walking on
two legs, no bruises - at least none that he didn’t ask to be put there-”
“He is not-!”
“A faggot?” Chan finishes for him. “A friend-of-Dorothy? A bottom bitch?”
The chief looks like he’s about to explode now. Chan reaches out for a glass and when Jisung
hands him one on his way past, he offers it to the chief.
“You can’t afford to break your mask now, sir,” Chan tells him. “Get drunk if that makes this
easier but I promised your son would be alive, safe and breathing. I never promised I’d keep
him from fucking another guy.”
Reluctantly, angrily, the chief accepts the glass. He downs it in one gulp but his eyes are still
watching Hyunjin warily.
Chan leans in. “Do your job and be a good boy tonight, sir. I agreed to let you attend tonight
so you could both see your son, but any attempt to take him with you or harass any member
of my staff - including Hyunjin - will be considered a breach of contract.” Chan swears the
man could explode right now if they were in any other setting. “Take care of your wife.”
With that, Chan turns on his heel and walks off.
In the kitchen, Jeongin carefully opens the oven and watches as Felix reaches in with a
gloved hand to pull the tray out. He brings it to the bench and as he rests it atop the heatproof
board, they both look at it.
Twelve muffins, perfectly baked and for all intents and purposes, they look completely
harmless. Six of them are.
“Okay, I’ll ice these and put them on plates. Six to a plate. Innie, you’ve got the spiked ones.”
“Make sure you get the right people,” Seungmin warns where he’s watching them both from
his side of the kitchen. “There are six people we need to get tonight. No more, no less.”
“We’ve got it,” Felix assures him and he brings up the red icing and sugar decorations.
As he works, Jeongin glances at the window. He can see the main hall, filled with people,
talking over the music and it looks no different than all the other events they’ve been hosting
since Chan’s announcement. It looks no different but it feels completely different and Jeongin
isn’t sure if that’s because he’s knowingly poisoning someone or because his parents are here
- or both.
“Innie.”
Snapping out of his reverie, Jeongin takes the plate of six cupcakes from Felix. He’d worked
fast but well, each cupcake topped with velvet maroon icing with specks of gold and silver
sugar stars. It’s pretty.
Felix looks at him. “You know who you’re getting?”
“I memorised the sheet, don’t worry,” Jeongin assures him. He had done his homework, Chan
had given them both a sheet of names and faces, he’d spent two hours memorising each and
every single one of them. “I won’t get this wrong.”
Felix grins. “I know you won’t.”
“Get going so you can come back and help me out here,” Seungmin says and with another
smile, Felix heads out the door with Jeongin close behind him.
They deliver the cupcakes very carefully and when their job is complete, they head back into
the kitchen. As the night wears on and the party begins to slow down, Jeongin is finally
allowed to head back out into the main room. He spots his mother near the windows, drink in
her hand and a faraway look on her face.
Before he can get anywhere near her, however, it’s his father who takes his shoulder and
holds it so tight it could bruise.
“Jeongin,” his father says, eyes like steel as he leans in to whisper. “Hwang Hyunjin, are you
insane?”
Jeongin winces. He’s not sure how to answer that. Does he tell his father that Hyunjin had
found his identity first? That he’d blackmailed him into cooperating and that sort of just
naturally turned into whatever toxic relationship is left? That he doesn’t actually mind when
Hyunjin touches him, in fact he’s starting to crave it?
It’s one thing to come out to his homophobic father but it’s quite another to admit he’s
willingly falling for a certified psychotic murderer.
A male, certified psychotic murderer.
Jeongin winces. “Let go.”
“If your mother saw-”
With strength he didn’t even know he had, Jeongin shakes his father off and whips around to
look at him properly. Suddenly the people around them don’t matter, keeping up appearances
doesn’t matter. What matters is this. Amongst his fears of what his childhood illnesses could
mean, one thing is blatantly clear. Whatever was happening back then, whatever he fears, his
father was never around. Not once. Not when he was in the hospital, not when he was sick,
not ever.
“Who I fuck isn’t the issue here.”
“Jeongin,” his father hisses and his eyes scatter around the room, as if afraid someone heard
them. “Keep your voice down.”
“No, you wanna talk about this, let’s talk,” Jeongin continues. He’s not raising his voice but
he can’t help his anger. “You’re the one who brought it up so let’s talk about this.”
“Jeongin,” his father glares. “Not. Here.”
“For the first fourteen years of my life, you were barely there,” Jeongin says, bulldozing
through his father’s quiet warnings. “You came right in time to see me shipped off to an
asylum. Then when they finally let me go, you took me in and what did you do? You paid
your friends to hide my past, you ignored that something might have been wrong with me
and you threw me in the police academy and now you want to dictate who I’m fucking?”
He’s not loud. Not enough to disrupt the event but the people nearby have taken notice and
are shuffling away in response. Their eyes watch the drama but they deliberately keep their
distance. Jeongin’s only vaguely aware of it and he would be more self conscious about it
were he not so angry.
His father looks like he wants to say something. But then his eyes flick to something behind
Jeongin.
Hyunjin’s cologne reaches Jeongin’s senses and it’s like a soothing balm over his anger. An
arm wraps around him from behind and this time, Jeongin doesn’t push him off. Instead he
leans back, eyes fluttering shut as he feels Hyunjin kiss the back of his neck.
When he opens his eyes, his father is already walking away. Jeongin watches him stomp off,
grab his mother and leave the restaurant.
She looks confused, worried even. She keeps trying to pull against his arm, her eyes
searching for Jeongin. Even just to say goodbye. Jeongin watches their forms disappear into
the night and when they’re gone, he gently works his way out of Hyunjin’s arms.
“Innie?” Hyunjin whispers, quiet and worried.
“I know why I was so sick when I was a kid,” Jeongin says. He’s so quiet that Hyunjin has to
lean in to hear him but Jeongin doesn’t bother speaking louder. His eyes are still staring at the
spot where his parents disappeared, far away in thought as the realisation of what he’s just
done crashes in. “I just...I didn’t want to see it.”
“And now?”
Jeongin can’t help but laugh. There’s no mirth in his laugh, only bitter loneliness. He’d been
perfectly fine believing his childhood was normal. That, even ill, there was some normalcy in
it. He’d rather be ignorant and now he can’t. Now he has to see it for what it is and it’s ugly.
Somewhere in the midst of his psyche, he can feel something fraying at the seams. Another
thread about to snap, how many does that make now? How many times has he felt this? His
sanity or something normal in his brain, dying when it realises how bad things are out here?
He turns and heads back into the kitchen. He feels Hyunjin’s eyes on the back of his head the
whole time.
The car is silent. An uncomfortable sort of silence that seems to stretch forever.
Jeongin’s parents sit, neither willing to turn on the radio. His mother glances at her husband,
watches the way his jaw is set in a firm scowl, the knit of his eyebrows and she’s no stranger
to this mood. She can only assume it has something to do with Jeongin.
Her Jeongin, whom she’s missed. She’d never forgiven her husband for taking him away
after the asylum finally set him free. She’d wanted him with her but her husband hadn’t
allowed it. Instead he’d taken him and sent him away to that godforsaken academy.
Jeongin wasn’t meant to be police. Especially not with the way he kept blacking out and
killing all the neighbourhood animals.
But he’d had his way and she’d lost her son. Seeing him tonight was all her dreams realised.
He’d grown so much, turned into such a handsome boy.
But he wasn’t what his father wanted him to be. He never would be either, it just wasn’t in his
nature.
Like a wife too accustomed to her husbands’ mood swings, she waits. A few silent, painful
hours of driving passes before her husband finally breaks the silence.
“Did you have fun tonight?”
She nods. “I loved seeing Jeongin again. I’ve missed him.”
There’s something deliberate in her tone. She’d missed him. She wanted him back and if her
husband had just listened to her, she’d have had her son back with her, where he belonged,
after the asylum released him.
Perhaps things would have been better for them both.
“I didn’t know he could bake,” she comments.
Her husband frowns. “He learnt how to cook,” he agrees. “But he didn’t need to bake tonight.
All those dishes were-”
“He gave me a cupcake,” she says, a large smile on her face as she remembers Jeongin
coming up to her. He’d given her one and she’d missed the way he smiled. Cute and gummy
like she always remembered. “Maybe it was just for me.”
“Maybe, I don’t remember cupcakes,” his father mutters.
Silence stretches on but it’s not as uncomfortable this time. Jeongin’s mother stares ahead at
the stretch of dark street ahead and takes a deep breath. She’d missed her son. It’s sad that all
she has to enjoy now is the presence of her husband before they head back to Seoul, he’ll
drop her off home and then she’ll be alone. He won’t come to see her, he never does.
The pain of loneliness is almost too much for her to bear. She misses how people used to look
at her, pay attention to her, remember she was there. Even if it was only because her son was
sick.
They make it to the airport and board the plane back to Seoul. She takes her seat by the
window and watches the city of Busan shrink in the distance.
She thinks it’s caused by the air pressure of the plane so she ignores it. The very first
symptom: her head hurts.
Chapter End Notes
I seem to be playing a game: how long can I write certain characters and never give
them names? XD
Not terribly happy with this chapter, but only because it kind of feels like a filler for
later stuff that has to come up.
As always, thank you so much for your continued love and support! I'm missing
Hyunjin a lot these days, makes for lots and lots of late nights watching SKZ vids and
gathering all sorts of inspiration :)
See you next time!

XIV: Respice, Adspice, Prospice
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
If someone were to ask Jeongin what it felt like to suddenly realise his mother was poisoning
him, he’d say it was a bit like waking up from a very nice dream.
What he does remember most of all about his childhood isn’t actually the hospital visits,
numerous unnecessary operations, medications or anything like that. Like a hazy dream one
struggles to remember after waking, he remembers that for the longest time, it was just the
two of them against the world. He remembers crawling into his mothers lap and hugging her
until she stopped crying for reasons he was too young to understand.
He remembers her singing him to sleep, telling him everything was going to be alright
whenever he fell over or got bumps and bruises - he remembers the love.
It was these memories that lulled him into a false sense of security. That at least, even with all
the blackouts and blurry moments he can’t remember, he had a normal childhood. He had a
parent who loved him.
Waking up from that wasn’t a slow dread, nor was it easy to accept. It was like being punched
in the face and Jeongin still hadn’t recovered.
This much is clear when he shuts down after the event.
Watching him from the other side of the room, Hyunjin tilts his head. He’d taken Jeongin
back home after the event and the other hasn’t spoken since. Instead he’d retreated into his
own mind. He doesn’t respond when anyone talks to him and Hyunjin hasn’t seen life in his
eyes since. Only the same dull hue he’d seen glimpses of when the other wasn’t in his mind
anymore - but somewhere else. Somewhere Hyunjin couldn’t reach.
“Innie?”
No response. Hyunjin gets up from the bed and crosses over the room to where Jeongin is
seated at the desk and staring at the wall. He crouches in front of him and brings a hand up to
touch his face, tilting it towards himself.
“Innie?”
He’s poisoned his mother. He’s poisoned his mother. Jeongin can hear a voice yelling at him,
taunting him, reminding him over and over of what he’s done to her and he can’t handle it.
He can’t face it.
Perhaps that’s why his mind focuses instead on Seungmin’s offhand comment some days ago
when he’d seen Felix and Hyunjin together.
That ugly jealous feeling returns, churning the insides of his stomach and twisting them
painfully. Jeongin closes his eyes and all he can see is Felix clinging to Hyunjin, kissing the
back of his ear, making Hyunjin moan in the way Jeongin thought only he could.
“Innie, talk to me.”
Jeongin doesn’t, instead he slaps Hyunjin’s hand off his face, gets up and heads for the door.
“I’m taking an uber to work.”
Hyunjin blinks, wide eyes stunned. “What?!”
The slam of the front door is all he receives as an answer.
For the first two days, Hyunjin decides not to push it. Jeongin throws himself wholeheartedly
into work, so much so he doesn’t even have time to think. Although Felix and Seungmin try
talking to him, he doesn’t offer them much more than non-committal grunts. Where possible,
he refuses to be alone with Hyunjin - opting instead to uber back and forth from work and
sleep on the couch.
By the third day, Hyunjin corners him on his way out. Jeongin is halfway out the door, hand
on the handle and everything when Hyunjin slams it shut and leans over him.
“Okay, I can’t fix this if you don’t tell me why you’re angry at me,” he says, eyes glowering
with obvious annoyance. “What did I do this time?”
Jeongin glares at him. “I’m gonna be late for work.”
“I don’t fucking care,” Hyunjin snaps. “You’ve been giving me the silent treatment ever since
that event. Are you that pissed I outed you in front of your father?”
Jeongin takes a step back to distance himself, he averts his eyes. It’s not that he can’t handle
Hyunjin glaring at him - in fact he can deal with that and worse - but as angry as he is, he still
doesn’t want to talk about it. Because what if Hyunjin says he has fucked Felix? Or that he’s
still fucking him? There’s nothing binding the two of them, it’s not like they ever sat down
and discussed the fact that they’re in an actual relationship.
If Jeongin just assumed...if Hyunjin is fucking Felix on the side...Jeongin doesn’t think he
could actually handle it.
“It’s not that.”
“Then what?” Hyunjin presses. “What did I do? Tell me so I won’t do it again.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Well I do!”
Hyunjin has a really sensitive spot on the left side of his stomach, just above the hip bone.
When it’s kissed, he shivers. Jeongin is addicted to the sound he makes. Does Felix know
about it? Does Felix know about spots that even Jeongin doesn’t know about?
It makes him ill to think about it but he can’t help it, the image flashes before his mind when
he looks at Hyunjin.
“Hyunjin, get out of the way.”
“No, we’re gonna sort this out now,” Hyunjin says, voice low and pissed. “You can’t just give
me the silent treatment and not tell me why. What. Did. I. Do?”
Jeongin wants to scream at him. At this moment, he’d rather do anything than open the
festering wound that is his jealousy over something that might have happened with Felix. It’s
like an infection and he knows that if he cuts it open, it might get better or it might get worse,
he can’t handle it but it’s a lot better than thinking about what he’d done to his mother.
Seeing no way out, Jeongin turns on his heel and stomps towards the bathroom. Before
Hyunjin can follow him, he slams the door in his face and pulls the lock shut.
“Innie!” Hyunjin yells, banging on the door. “Yang Jeongin!”
“Fuck off!” Jeongin screams back. He kicks the wood of the door and pulls his phone out of
his pocket, flicking through the contacts even as Hyunjin keeps pounding the door.
Jeongin’s eyes land on Felix’s name in his phone. It’s weird, almost ironic, that he’s in the
middle of a fight with Hyunjin and it’s Felix who might help him out here. Felix, who is half
the reason why Jeongin can’t even talk to Hyunjin in the first place. But of everyone in the
restaurant, barring Hyunjin himself, Felix is the one who went out of his way to get to know
him. He’s so friendly and Jeongin knows that’s just the way Felix is.
Still...it’s comforting.
He flicks past Felix’s name and lands on Minho instead. Hyunjin is still banging on the door
when Jeongin calls Minho and hears his voice on the other end.
“Innie?”
“Hyung, can you come get me?” Jeongin asks, his knees shaking a little as he sits on the tiled
floor and rests against the bathtub. “Hyunjin won’t let me leave the apartment and...I just
need someone to get me out of here.”
There’s a long pause, he can hear a voice in the background and recognises Jisung’s tone
before Minho comes back.
“Okay, stay there, I’ll come get you.”
“Thanks, hyung.”
After a few minutes, Hyunjin stops banging on the door. Jeongin can still see his shadow
through the slit at the bottom of the door.
“Innie,” Hyunjin says, sounding a little more tired now. “Just fucking talk to me.”
Jeongin sniffs and he’s not sure why but he feels miserable. Near tears. He curls up on the
floor and after another twenty minutes, both of them hear a knocking at the front door.
Hyunjin gets up and Jeongin can hear him walking. Then the sound of the door opening and
Hyunjin’s obvious tone of surprise.
There’s muffled talking, supposedly Minho explaining the situation to Hyunjin. Jeongin
doesn’t know and he doesn’t bother going to listen in either. He just wants to get out of here.
Eventually, he hears Hyunjin’s annoyed tone. “Fine, just take him then.”
Then someone knocks on the bathroom door and Minho calls out, voice a little gentler.
“Innie? Baby, come out.”
Jeongin picks himself up from the floor. He feels like he’s moving on autopilot as he pulls
away the lock and opens up to see Minho standing on the other side, his brows furrowed in
obvious concern. Over his shoulder, Jeongin can see Hyunjin leaning against the bedroom
door looking equal parts confused and angry.
He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t want to fight or argue about this now, he just wants to
keep himself busy. He follows Minho out of the apartment and doesn’t look back.
He stays with Minho and Jisung for a few days. Their apartment is nice, albeit filled with
four cats including Onyx. Minho sets him up in the spare bedroom and neither ask what
happened. They either seem to understand that Hyunjin is a lot of work or they don’t want to
know. Either way, Jeongin is thankful for it.
The only problem with staying with Minho and Jisung is that they fuck.
A lot.
And very loudly.
On the fourth night, Jeongin pushes his pillow over his head and tries not to listen to all the
dirty little names Jisung has for Minho (names Jeongin could have happily died never
knowing) Beside him, Onyx is curled in a little ball. He can hear her purring. The other cats
seem to have taken to hiding in his room as well because they’re all on his bed, purring away
and sleeping.
It’s somewhere after the headboard in the other room hits the wall for the millionth time that
Jeongin’s room is suddenly lit up with a notification on his phone. He reaches for it and his
headphones in the hopes that music might at least drown a little of the noise out.
Felix 🐤: Hey i heard youre staying w/minho. Everything ok?

Jeongin plugs his buds in his ears and as soon as the music starts, he turns the volume up
until he can’t hear the moaning anymore. He looks over Felix’s message for a moment before
tapping in an answer.
Jeongin: theyre fucking. Its loud.
Felix🐤: 😂😂😂😂😂
Felix🐤: srsly tho, what happened w/hyunjin?
Felix🐤: hes been so grumpy lately😕
Is Felix with Hyunjin now? Jeongin squirms uncomfortably in bed and he berates himself.
He’d just left them the perfect opportunity to fuck without his interferrence, what’s stopping
them? He feels guilty, being so jealous of someone like Felix. Felix, who is so affectionate
and warm, who’s shown nothing but unconditional love to Jeongin since day one.
Felix who is probably fucking Hyunjin and wondering why Jeongin isn’t there because
Hyunjin isn’t the type to talk about things like this.
Or is he? Does he tell Felix things he doesn’t tell Jeongin? Do they laugh about how naive he
is? Jeongin bites his lip and curls up in bed, it’s a terrible feeling but it’s churning so
painfully in his gut and all he can hear is Seungmin’s voice over and over again. Like a taunt.
They’re fucking.
Felix 🐤: Innie?
Jeongin: its fine. We just had a fight
Jeongin: not like we’re boyfriends anyway
Jeongin: probably need my own place anyway
Felix doesn’t answer for a while and Jeongin puts his phone down. He turns up the volume
and pulls his blanket up until one of the cats hisses in protest. Hyunjin would never be able to
stay here. Jeongin still remembers the way Hyunjin had panicked when he’d seen Onyx. All
his allergies in overdrive, the way he’d escaped the room sneezing and wheezing the whole
way.
Jeongin feels something painful stab at his chest and he whimpers at the realisation that he
misses him. He misses Hyunjin. Even now, curled up in bed with four cats sitting on him,
Jeongin wants nothing more than the feel of Hyunjin’s body against his back. His arm
wrapped tight around his waist and mouth pressed into the back of his neck.
His phone lights up again.
Felix 🐤: dinner tomorrow?

Jeongin is too lonely, too sad, too confused to say no so he agrees and curls up under the
blankets to sleep.
Hyunjin never has to go into the kitchen. Because he works in the main room with Jisung and
Minho, he rarely has a reason to come in. Yet Jeongin has noticed that ever since he left
Hyunjin’s apartment, Hyunjin has been finding random excuses to come into the kitchen.
When he needs water, when he’s checking on something random, he keeps getting in
Jeongin’s space and although they don’t talk, he’s there with his intoxicating scent, his long
blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, his eyes that burn holes in the back of Jeongin’s head.
Jeongin keeps his head down. He still can’t talk to him. He doesn’t want to either, he’s not
sure how to bring this up but when he sees the way Felix glances at Hyunjin, he wonders if
he’s right after all. If they are fucking. Then at least his anger would be totally justified.
After the restaurant closes, Jeongin tells Minho he’ll be out for dinner and heads out with
Felix. Hyunjin has lockup duty tonight so he stays behind, his eyes watching Jeongin as he
leaves.
In the cool night air, Jeongin pulls his jacket tighter over himself and follows Felix as the
blonde takes him to another nearby restaurant. It’s strange, when Jeongin thinks about it, but
thanks to his harrowing experience with restaurants and kitchens (and god forbid, walk-in
freezers) Jeongin is almost completely put off restaurants altogether.
Because he can’t see how they prepare their food. He can’t see where their meat comes from.
He deliberately orders fish just because he knows that can’t be human meat and he notices it
when Felix does the same.
“I’ve been put off beef, veal, any kind of meat,” Felix says when the waitress takes their
menu away. “When I go out, I’ll only order chicken or something fishy. Or maybe a salad.”
Jeongin frowns. “You don’t...I mean...do you…?”
“Have anything to do with the meat under our restaurant?” Felix finishes for him. “No, I
don’t. The most I have to do with that is cooking it but if you’re asking whether or not I’ll cut
the chicken’s head off myself, no. I can’t.”
“But you’ve done it once before?”
“Just once,” Felix nods. “And he was someone who really hurt me. If I hadn’t done it, the
others would have. I needed closure and I was still angry.”
Jeongin thinks back to his own initiation. He hadn’t known the man, he can mostly remember
the way Hyunjin had leaned into him and guided his hand. An intimate moment in the midst
of a murder.
Perhaps that should have disturbed him more than it actually did.
“The people who handle the, uh, butchering for lack of a better word,” Felix continues with a
wince. “They’re usually Han, Binnie, Chan and Hyunjin. Because of how Hyunjin is,
normally he’s the one doing it.”
Jeongin nods slowly. There had been so many bodies down there, were most of them killed
by Hyunjin? He’d seen Chan, Jisung and Changbin killing one but was Hyunjin responsible
for most of them? He wants to be surprised but strangely enough, he’s not. He knows better.
Of course Hyunjin is capable of taking more than one human life.
For Jeongin, every time he took a life, he felt a little piece of him chipping away. The more
he did it, the less it hurt.
It was getting to the point where it wasn’t hurting anymore and whatever he should be feeling
is instead replaced with a strange numbness. Apathy. He should care, he doesn’t.
“Innie, I’ve been really worried about you,” Felix says and when Jeongin looks at him, all he
can see is genuine worry in Felix’s eyes. How does the other stay so warm and loving when
he’s fucking Hyunjin on the side?
“Why?” Jeongin asks as the waitress brings their drinks and walks off again.
“Well...I knew you were with Hyunjin before,” Felix explains slowly. “And I didn’t really
think much of it. You have eyes, he’s pretty and we all know that. But I honestly didn’t think
it would last that long.”
Immediately Jeongin wonders why. Was Felix hoping it wouldn’t last so he could get in
there? Was Jeongin really just a toy? Jeongin doesn’t like the way Felix talks about Hyunjin,
like he’s some sort of ex-lover he knows better than Jeongin ever will.
“Why didn’t you think it would last?”
“Because of Hyunjin,” Felix says. “He’s a sociopath...or a psychopath, I can’t really

remember which. He’s dangerous, he gets off on killing people, it’s a sport to him. Someone
who can so easily hurt someone else isn’t even capable of love - not to mention his
relationships don’t last long, he gets bored.”
Jeongin frowns and he doesn’t understand. How does Felix know this? Did Felix want this?
“I honestly thought Hyunjin would play around with you for a few days and let you go
afterwards.”
It hurts. It really hurts. Jeongin suddenly finds it hard to breathe. The two are silent when the
waitress comes back with their food but suddenly, Jeongin isn’t hungry. Not even close. The
waitress walks away and he shakes his head.
“Were you hoping for it?” he asks quietly. “Were you hoping he was just playing?”
Felix hesitates, as though he can hear the tone of Jeongin’s voice. “Yes,” he answers
eventually. “But Innie-”
“Are you fucking Hyunjin?” Jeongin blurts and he regrets it the second he does because his
voice is so angry, so harsh and blunt it makes Felix’s eyes widen in surprise. He’s shaking, he
doesn’t mean to be so angry but he can’t help it, he feels like a fool. Like an idiot who didn’t
know Hyunjin and Felix had this thing going on and he’s the only one who didn’t know.
“Wha...Innie-”
“Are you?!” Jeongin spits and he wants to stop himself. This isn’t him. This jealous, angry
creature isn’t him.
Felix holds his hand up. “Innie, calm down. I’m not fucking Hyunjin-”
“I don’t believe you!”
“Innie, I swear to you, I am not fucking Hyunjin,” Felix insists and this time his voice is a
little firmer, as if he knows that Jeongin needs a moment to calm down. “I told you, I’ve
never...done that. Not anal sex anyway, I was asking you before-remember? I was asking you
if it hurt.”
Jeongin blinks, he remembers Felix’s shy but curious face asking him about it. Because of
Changbin. Not Hyunjin.
“Binnie…”
Felix smiles, queasy and slightly watery with emotion. “Yes. Binnie.”
Jeongin takes a deep breath and he feels himself calm down immediately. It helps. He slumps
in his seat and shakes his head. “Then why…?”
Why had Seungmin told him they had?
“Innie, before you jump to any more conclusions, I need you to listen to me,” Felix tells him.
“I swear to you, I have not fucked Hyunjin. But before you came to the restaurant, we
did...play a bit.”
Jeongin frowns. “Play?”
“It was one night and it meant absolutely nothing,” Felix insists, as though afraid Jeongin is
on the verge of biting his head off for it. “And it was before he met you. We were both new to
the restaurant and I had a lot of things going on and when Chan told me I could date anyone
but Hyunjin...naturally I wanted to break that rule just to prove a point.”
Jeongin shakes his head and he’s still trying to wrap his head around this. “Chan told you not
to?”
“If I recall correctly, Chan’s exact words were ‘no Fe. Not him. Anyone but him.’” Felix
replies with a small, nervous chuckle.
Jeongin nods slowly. He still feels a pang of jealousy but he’s managed to calm himself down
for now. Felix’s words come back to him and he frowns. “What do you mean by play?”
Felix shakes his head. “I didn’t like Chan telling me not to do something. So I went and did it
deliberately - Hyunjin was up for it too because he didn’t like being told what to do either.
But because it really was just about making a point and not because either of us actually had
any feelings for each other, we just ended up playing around a bit for one night. Do you really
need the details?”
Jeongin feels he both needs and doesn’t need to know. Self preservation wins out and he
shakes his head.
“Innie, I’m worried about you,” Felix continues. “I wasn’t hoping that Hyunjin would get
sick of you and throw you away because I secretly want him for myself. I was hoping he’d
get bored of you for your sake - do you know how dangerous he is?”
Jeongin has seen his police record, he’s seen Hyunjin’s anger first hand. He’s seen Kang
Mogyul’s stabbed balls. The only thing he hasn’t seen is Hyunjin killing someone right in
front of him.
“For my sake?” he asks. “He won’t hurt me.”
“Innie, I’ll be the first person to say I like Hyunjin but from a distance,” Felix tells him. “And
I’m worried that he might hurt you. Hyunjin has abandonment issues, he’s psychotic, he
doesn’t bat an eye with things like murder or torture. If he gets too attached to you...that’s
what I’m worried about.”
Jeongin suddenly recalls the strange looks Felix had shot him during the briefing.
“Was that why you look so confused every time Hyunjin hugs me?” he asks, suddenly
focussed.
Felix nods. “I’m worried he’s going to hurt you, Innie. I was hoping he’d let you go, get
bored and not get attached to you. Do you really know what you’re doing with him?”
If Jeongin is being completely, totally honest, the answer is no. He doesn’t know what he’s
doing with Hyunjin. They started off with Hyunjin blackmailing him, hurting him then
suddenly doing something for him. Then suddenly he was concerned, he was attached. It
happened so fast, feelings blurred the lines until Jeongin can’t exactly tell where his feelings
for Hyunjin began. When did he jump from being scared of him to wanting to be with him?
“Hyunjin won’t hurt me,” Jeongin says and he wishes his tone were more certain.
Felix watches him. They’re quiet for a long time and neither have started eating. Somehow
the topic of conversation put them both off.
“Innie,” Felix begins. “When Hyunjin has lockup duty, it’s because he’s got a job to do in the
freezer.”
Jeongin shivers at the thought of that damned freezer. He hasn’t taken one step towards it
since that day he had a full on panic attack and he hasn’t had any desire to go near it either.
“If you really want to see what you’re dealing with, you should see what he does tonight,”
Felix continues, voice level and calm. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing.
Because if you see what he does and you feel any fear, then run away from him before he’s
too attached to let you go.”
Jeongin blinks. “You’re doing this for me?”
“I’m worried for you,” Felix confirms. “If you can see what Hyunjin does and not run, then
it’s okay. I trust you can look after yourself but walk into this with both eyes wide open,
Innie. Please.”
It takes Jeongin a few moments to move. They have food going cold but suddenly, Jeongin is
possessed by an overwhelming need to see Hyunjin. To see what it is he does. If Seungmin
was wrong about Hyunjin and Felix, then was he wrong about this too? Will Jeongin really
run if he knew what it was that Hyunjin did for Chan?
“Go ahead,” Felix smiles. “You can buy me dinner next time.”
Jeongin bites his lip, he nods and gets up. “Sorry.”
“Go on, you might still be able to catch him.”
With a nod, Jeongin turns on his heel and heads out of the restaurant. He heads back out into
the cold night air and the streets are empty as he runs back towards Gods Menu.
From a distance, the magnificence of the colosseum-like building is still glowing with the
lights installed to run at night. Jeongin races in through the backdoor and when he steps into
the kitchen, the first thing he notices is the freezer door wide open.
Hyunjin’s bag is still on the kitchen bench and when Jeongin closes the door behind himself,
he can hear the smallest sound coming from the freezer.
Crying?
Jeongin inches towards the door. As he approaches, the chilled air envelops him and he has to
grip the wall as if to hold back a panic attack. He stops right at the threshold and takes a deep
breath. His body is frozen, it refuses to take another step closer and all he can remember is
being tied to the chair, screaming until his voice went hoarse, losing all feeling in his limbs
until Hyunjin came down to get him out.
But...he has to see what Hyunjin does. He has to know for sure if Seungmin is right and even
now there’s still the tiniest, persistent little part of his brain that remains annoyed that
something happened between Hyunjin and Felix.
Taking a deep breath, Jeongin pushes himself forward. His legs are shaking, his breath comes
in tiny gasps but he forces himself towards the trapdoor in the middle of the room. It’s open
and he can hear the sounds clearer now, someone’s crying.
His knees shake, his entire body protests even as he forces himself down to the ladder. Down
and down he climbs and the closer he gets to the underground room, the louder the crying is.
But there’s another noise too, it sounds like the sharpening of a knife. The scratching sound
of a blade being brushed against something to sharpen it.
When he reaches the bottom, his entire body is frozen already. He feels a strange numbness
take over his mind as he walks closer until he is finally met with the sight of the room he’d
been trapped in. With the bodies hanging from meathooks, the shelves of jars and body parts
wrapped in plastic.
There in the middle of the room are three men dressed in suits, all three of them strapped to
their own seats with cloths over their mouths. Between them, Hyunjin is leaning over the one
in the middle and he’s the one crying. When Hyunjin pulls back, Jeongin sees why. He’s been
carving the word ‘bigot’ into his forehead.
“What are you doing here, Innie?”
Face to face with Hyunjin again, Jeongin doesn’t expect it but in that moment, his mind
blanks. Hyunjin with a blade in his hand, standing in front of three men tied to chairs in the
middle of this godforsaken freezer and funnily enough, only one thing comes to Jeongin’s
mind.
“Did you sleep with Felix?”
Hyunjin blinks but when he sees Jeongin’s face, his own turns incredulous.
“...seriously? You wanna talk about this now?”
“Yes,” Jeongin insists. “I wanna talk about this now.”

“I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
“I don’t care, answer me.”
Hyunjin groans. “Are you fucking kidding me? THIS is why you’ve been giving me the
silent treatment?”
“Just answer the damn question!” Jeongin demands, his voice echoes off the cold walls as he
stares hard at Hyunjin.
“No, okay? I haven’t fucked Felix,” Hyunjin snaps.
“But you played with him.”
“Well fuck, Innie, if you’re gonna get mad at me over everyone I’ve played with before I met
you, you’re gonna get mad at a lot of people,” Hyunjin groans as he puts the knife down on
the table and walks towards him.
He gets too close and Jeongin immediately takes two large steps back. But it’s not because
he’s scared of him. Jeongin realises that at this point, the sight of three terrified, middle aged
men tied to chairs is not something he’s afraid of. He’s not scared or the least bit concerned
about what Hyunjin is going to do with them.
No, what concerns him most right here and now is Hyunjin.
He knows better than to tell Hyunjin what started this. After all, he doesn’t have anything
against Seungmin. Not at all but why had Seungmin said that if it wasn’t true?
As it turns out, he needn’t have said anything.
“It was Seungmin, wasn’t it?”
Jeongin pales and Hyunjin huffs. “Motherfucker.”
“What did you do to piss Seungmin off?” Jeongin can’t help but ask.
“I don’t know, he’s the one who left me alone in Busan, not the other way around,” Hyunjin
mutters darkly. “But if I had to guess, he’s been miserable ever since his mother died. He
doesn’t like seeing happy people around him, especially since one of them is his ex-
boyfriend.”
The statement strikes Jeongin as weird. “...happy?”
“Content, whatever,” Hyunjin covers quickly. Too quickly and Jeongin is starving for
something. A grain. Anything. Hyunjin is too hard to read, they don’t talk about this, he
wants something concrete. He’s sick of this limbo where they don’t talk, he needs some sort
of confirmation.
“No, no.” he insists. “Explain. Tell me.”
“Innie-”
“Tell me what you mean. I want to know what I am to you.”
“Oh for fucks sake, Innie,” Hyunjin groans. “Right now? You wanna do this right now?”
He gestures to the men and they’re still in their seats. Wide eyed, albeit a little confused,
Jeongin nods. “I need it,” he says. “We don’t talk about it but I need it. You’ve never said
anything and neither have I, I just suddenly live with you and that’s...I mean…”
“Innie,” Hyunjin sighs, he sounds exhausted. “Even if I wanted to do anything to Felix, I

wouldn’t be able to. Not with you in my life.”
Jeongin watches and suddenly he feels so self conscious. The same nasty little voice he’s
heard in his head all his life, more so when he was back at the academy. He’s never thought
of himself as enough for anyone, especially someone like Hyunjin. As much as verbal
confirmation would embarrass him too, he has to hear it.
But then Hyunjin’s in front of him and how did he get so close? His hands are on Jeongin’s
face and when he leans in, all the air from Jeongin’s lungs leave in one gasp. He kisses back,
eyes fluttering shut, body leaning into Hyunjin like he’s the air he needs.
They pull back just far enough so their lips are still brushing. Jeongin reaches up to hold
Hyunjin’s wrists, as if it’ll keep him upright. His knees are still shaking but he can’t tell if it’s
because of the freezer or because of Hyunjin.
“Silly Innie,” Hyunjin whispers, his thumb gently stroking Jeongin’s cheek. “You’re mine,
don’t you know that already?”
Jeongin clings, he searches Hyunjin’s gaze but all he can see there is warmth. Warmth and
something else, something deeper.
“And you’re mine?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
“Completely.”
He’s kissing him again. Jeongin slips his arms around Hyunjin’s shoulders and Seungmin was
wrong. He was so wrong. Jeongin doesn’t want to run or leave. He can’t think of anything
worse than leaving Hyunjin in this moment.
Gentle kisses turn heated, Hyunjin’s hand sinks into Jeongin’s hair and Jeongin whimpers
against his mouth. They’d only been separated three days but it all hits Jeongin between the
eyes, it’s too long. He clings, his hands holding Hyunjin’s shirt so tightly he almost rips the
material and before long, Hyunjin holds him tight around the waist and pulls him down until
he’s lying on the cold, tile floor.
Jeongin gasps, the cold is so sudden that he pulls back from the kiss but before he can even
focus on what’s happening, Hyunjin’s mouth is on his neck. He’s biting and sucking marks
until Jeongin’s eyes flutter and his back arches, the cold completely forgotten.
The contrast between the cold floor and Hyunjin’s heated body is intoxicating to Jeongin. He
doesn’t notice, doesn’t care when the buttons of his shirt are opened because all he can focus
on is Hyunjin’s lips leaving a heated trail down his chest to his belly button. Suddenly, he
doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that there are three men in the room who can see him, he
doesn’t care about anything but this and he can’t bring himself to move either.
Hyunjin’s hand presses against his groin and Jeongin’s whimper bounces off the walls. He’s
consumed by this need for him and it covers over every other thought he could possibly have.
It encompasses the anxiety he might have felt about doing this in front of strangers, or any
thought of his mother whom he hasn’t checked up on. Right now, all he can see, hear, feel
and taste is Hyunjin.
His hand sinks into Hyunjin’s hair and pulls it free of its ponytail. When he feels Hyunjin’s
mouth on his aching cock, his back arches and his whimpers echo on the walls. Hyunjin’s
name echoes.
Jeongin missed him. It startles him how much he missed him but he did. All the heat in his
body travels south and before long, he starts to writhe.
“Hyun…” he gasps, his eyes flying open to look down at Hyunjin’s blonde head between his
legs. “Hyunjin I’m…”
But Hyunjin doesn’t stop. He sucks harder and Jeongin’s body shakes. When he comes, he
screams and he’s shaking. He pants hard, his eyes staring up at the ceiling even as he feels
Hyunjin pull off him and climb up his body to lean over him.
Then he kisses Jeongin’s temple and nuzzles it.
“Stay right there, Innie,” he whispers.
Jeongin can’t talk, he can still feel bliss enveloping him. His legs feel weak and he feels so
good. Better than he has in a while.
He listens to Hyunjin getting up and when he turns his head slowly, he watches Hyunjin’s
figure returning to the men in their seats.
“Sorry gentlemen,” Hyunjin says. “I was going to drag this out a little more but I have
something far more interesting to play with now. I only really need one of you alive anyway.”
The second he picks up the knife again, Jeongin can hear them whimpering. They received a
reprieve with his appearance but he has absolutely no will to get up. Lying here on the cold,
cold floor, exposed with his shirt open, pants and underwear pulled off, Jeongin stays where
he is and stares up at the ceiling with half hooded eyes.
He turns his head in time to see Hyunjin slash the throat of the man in the middle, then the
one on the right. There’s no hesitation in the way he does it, not even a hint of emotion on his
face. The one who survives, the man on the left, starts crying as the other two slump in their
seats. Blood seeps from them, pools underneath them and with the tiles, the blood spreads.
Jeongin watches the blood rolling towards him, he doesn’t move as Hyunjin places his phone
on the table. A song starts to play on his phone, it echoes on the walls and Jeongin does as
he’s told. He stays perfectly still, watching as the blood finally reaches him.
He’s reminded of the night he hid under the shelves, the blood had touched him then too. It
had touched him, warm at first but it quickly turned cold. The sharp tang of metal and iron
fills the air as blood slowly begins to circle Jeongin, staining his clothes, his hair, the parts of
his skin that remain exposed.
When he looks up, he sees Hyunjin watching him. Neither are paying any attention to the
weeping man on the chair, or the two who still sit there dead, all Jeongin can see is Hyunjin.
“Fuck, Innie.”
Claiming his lips, Hyunjin climbs on top of him and Jeongin suddenly springs to life. His
hands shake as they pull at Hyunjin’s clothes with single minded determination to finish what
they’d started.
He can’t think of anything he wants more right now.
When they pull back, Jeongin looks over the blood splatters on Hyunjin’s face, the blood in
his hair and he’s not afraid. He doesn’t want to run. Instead what he does is lean up and lick
the blood on his left cheek. He sees the way Hyunjin’s eyes darken, he looks like he could eat
him alive.
Only the scent remains and tortures me
I draw you out past my dull memories
Jeongin holds Hyunjin’s face, his fingers pushing into his hair as they kiss. It’s so cold in the
air and on the floor. The blood is cooling against his skin but Hyunjin is like a furnace in his
arms. The surviving man sits on his chair, sobbing, terrified but in full view of what’s
happening right in front of him.
The memories flow on top of the lonely wind
Who can comfort me when I’m this sad?
Neither Hyunjin nor Jeongin have the patience for foreplay. Especially in the middle of a
freezer. Jeongin clings as Hyunjin stretches him open, prepares him as much as he can before
sliding into him.
Jeongin needs him like air. He clings, he kisses, he scratches his back. He can’t feel the cold
air, only Hyunjin thrusting into him. Their moans, their screams, gasps and whispers echo in
the air with the music still playing on Hyunjin’s phone.
It’s been too long. Only four days but it’s too long. Jeongin bites Hyunjin’s shoulder and
relishes in the yelp the other makes and the two punishing thrusts that come right afterwards.
It’s quick, messy and too desperate. Fuelled by four days apart and a fight of jealousy.
“Hyunjin,” Jeongin whimpers against his lips. “Hyunjin. Hyunjin!”
His back arches, his end rushes for him before he even realises it’s coming. He can distantly
hear Hyunjin’s moans over his own and when he finally comes back, Hyunjin is driving into
him so hard his head thuds lightly on the floor before Hyunjin’s hand comes up to shield it.
Jeongin’s eyes flutter. With what little strength he has left, his arms cradle Hyunjin to
himself, holding him even when Hyunjin’s thrusts grow erratic, his breathing gets harder
until at last he spills himself inside Jeongin.
For a few moments after, they just lie there breathing. Then when the cold air and blood starts
to freeze Jeongin’s skin, Hyunjin finally gets up and helps them both dress.
They’re a mess. There’s blood everywhere, all over the floor, all over them. It mats the back
of Jeongin’s head, it stains his clothes and when they look down, there’s an obvious gap in
the blood where they were.
A sniffle brings their attention to the man on the seat and Jeongin shivers. With each passing
second, he’s remembering where they are and it’s cold. He leans into Hyunjin and feels the
other wrap his arm around him.
“What are you gonna do with him?” Jeongin asks quietly.
“Leave him to Chan,” Hyunjin tells him. “He only needs one.”
Hyunjin then grabs his phone with one hand, Jeongin’s hand with the other and leads him
back to the ladder. They switch the lights off on their way up, leaving the whimpering, crying
man in total darkness.
Jeongin climbs up after Hyunjin. He follows him up and when they’re both out, Hyunjin
closes the trap door and leads him out of the freezer at last.
They’re just closing the door when Chan comes in through the back door.
“Hyunjin,” he greets before his eyes land on Jeongin and widen in surprise. “Innie?”
“He’s all yours,” Hyunjin says, cutting into whatever question Chan had about Jeongin’s
presence.
Chan stares, he can obviously see the blood and the look in their eyes. It’s quite clear he’s
already connected the dots between their dishevelled appearances and the fucked out, blissful
look in Jeongin’s eyes.
Hyunjin takes Jeongin’s hand and walks him past Chan. He picks up his bag on the way and
just when they’re at the doorway, Chan speaks.
“Innie, will you come to my office tomorrow morning?”
Hyunjin stops, he turns to glare at Chan and pushes Jeongin behind himself. “You never said
I had to do that job alone.”
“No, it’s not about that,’ Chan shakes his head. Over Hyuniin’s shoulder, he looks straight at
Jeongin. “It’s your mother. Your father couldn’t contact you so he called me instead. She’s
sick and she’s in the hospital.”
Just like that, it hits Jeongin right in the gut. He’d been so preoccupied thinking about this
thing between Hyunjin and Felix, he’d even made himself so busy that he couldn’t think
about it but here it is staring him in the face. So glaringly obvious he can’t ignore it anymore.
Right. He’d poisoned his mother. And by the look of Chan’s eyes, Chan knows how he did it
too.
Hyunjin pulls Jeongin out the door to take him home and all the way, Jeongin feels the
dreaded creep of anxiety crawling up his spine. Paralyzing him with the full realisation of
what he’d done to her and there was nothing else he could hide behind, nothing else he could
distract himself with.
He doesn’t talk the whole way home.
The car is silent, save for the occasional turn of a page. Chan looks up from his book but
Jeongin hasn’t said much since Chan told him.
With no way to contact his son, the chief had resorted to contacting Chan and the second
Chan heard that Jeongin’s mother was ill, he suddenly knew what Jeongin had done. It meant
that of the six people who were meant to die, only five of them were going to.
So who did Jeongin miss?
Jeongin didn’t say much when he told him about it. Just asked for permission to go see her
and with the circumstances being as they are, Chan had no choice. He had to come with him.
So now here they are, fresh from a quick plane ride from Busan, traversing Seoul roads in
uncomfortable silence.
Chan scans Jeongin’s face. He’s going to have to bring this up sooner or later but no one
knew better than Chan that this had to be handled delicately. Jeongin had just poisoned his
own mother and to an extent, Chan blamed himself for that. When he’d brought up the
medical history, he hadn’t meant for Jeongin to do this but he can see how Jeongin had come
to it.
“Innie?”
Jeongin hums, his eyes far away as he stares out the window. He’s not looking at Chan, his
eyes are distant and it vaguely reminds Chan of how his eyes had gone dull when he killed
Woojin.
“Are you okay?”
A stupid question but Chan can’t let this silence continue.
“I’m fine.”
Jeongin doesn’t look at him, he’s not focussing at all and when the car finally pulls to a stop,
Jeongin is the first to get out. Chan follows close, falling into step with him as they make
their way into the hospital. Chan takes the lead, he asks reception for directions and follows
Jeongin as they’re led up to the third floor.
The closer they get to the wards, the more the scent of sick, sanitizers and lukewarm hospital
food reaches their noses. Nurses flutter past with clipboards, visitors mill in and out of wards
and when they finally reach the right room, Jeongin finally hesitates. He stands right outside
of the closed door and for a moment, he just stands there.
When he starts to shake, Chan steps forward and places a hand on his shoulder.
“Innie?”
“I can’t,” Jeongin whispers and when Chan looks at his face, he can see a tear already
streaking down his cheek. “I...I can’t. I can’t go in there.”
“It’s okay,” Chan says and he can see a small lounge area down the hall. He leads Jeongin
towards it and sits him down on one of the couches. Jeongin is shaking hard as Chan grabs a
small cup of water and brings it back to him. He has to help Jeongin drink it when it becomes
clear that the boy is shaking too hard to hold the cup properly.
Chan crouches in front of him and watches. Hyunjin hadn’t been too happy when he’d found
out that Jeongin was heading to Seoul alone with Chan but he must have trusted Chan to a
certain extent to allow it. Still, Chan sort of wishes he’d brought him along because as
dangerous and unpredictable as Hyunjin is, he does know how to deal with Jeongin.
Still, it’s not like Chan doesn’t understand why Jeongin is reacting like this. Whether he’d
done it or not isn’t the issue, he still loves his mother. What he remembers isn’t her poisoning
him, he was too drugged to remember any of that. What he’s left with are loving, warm
childhood memories. It hasn’t been that long since he woke up from that dream and
discovered the truth.
Jeongin sniffs and shivers in his seat.
“I’m sorry…”
“What for?” Chan asks.
“You...you told me not to let them get hurt. That was my one job and...and I fucked it. I
skipped someone.”
Jeongin sounds so pitiful and miserable. Even if Chan were angry over the botched poison
job, he couldn’t have yelled at him in that moment. Whilst it’s true that the sixth unpoisoned
man was a problem, he’d deal with it later. Right now, he’s more concerned about Jeongin’s
mental state - which seems to grow more and more fragile by the day.
“We’ll sort that out later, I’m not mad at you,” Chan says with a pat to Jeongin’s knee. “But
Innie, you remember I told you this poison has no cure.”
One way or another, she’s going to die. Might not be today or even in the week but
somewhere along the line, her organs will fali and she will die. Of that, Chan is absolutely
certain.
Jeongin sniffs and nods. “I know,” he mumbles. “That’s why I did it. But why am I sad? She
could have killed me.”
Chan nods. “You’re sad because you don’t remember the hospitals do you? It took you a long
time to even realise what it was she was doing.”
When Jeongin nods slowly, Chan continues. “What you remember is that you had a mother
who loved you. You remember a normal childhood, that’s why you’re sad but I want you to
remember, Innie, the truth hurts but it’s a thousand times better than ignorance.”
Jeongin shivers. Right now, he’d take ignorance over this painful knowledge that his mother,
the mother he loved, had been killing him when he was a child. All for attention. She used to
tell him that she had the world at her feet before she married his father, she used to tell him
about all the things she could have done. All the attention she used to get when the world was
still hers. He didn’t realise she would use him to get it back.
Another tear slips down his face.
“She’s going to die…”
Chan nods. “Yes. Yes she is.”
It’s not harsh, but Jeongin needs honesty right now. After a lifetime of being lied to, he
deserves that much at least.
Because right at this moment, Jeongin looks like a lost child. A crying, terrified child. It’s a
stark contrast to the lovesick, blood covered person he’d seen the other night with Hyunjin
and Chan has to wonder what’s going on in Jeongin’s mind.
The more he sees what’s happening to Jeongin, the more he realises that the skeletons in
Jeongin’s closet are many. Just like everyone else in God’s Menu, Jeongin is just like them.
Too much trauma, too many secrets.
But he’s different too. Because Chan’s seen him shut down. He’s seen those eyes turn dull
and that’s when he knew he was dealing with something very different.
Perhaps, what’s happening now is the result of his entire life but he can see clear as day why
Hyunjin was so drawn to him.
Nobody recognises a tortured soul better than another tortured soul and Hyunjin recognised a
lot of himself in Jeongin. It lay dormant at first, only coming out every now and then to kill
an animal when he wanted control but it’s coming out more and more now. Something in
Jeongin is dying and Chan can’t help but wonder if he should get the boy out of here before
it’s too late.
But then where would he go? His father is not the emotional support he needs. His father
ignores mental health issues, pretends they’re not there. He’ll shove Jeongin right back into
that academy in a bid to toughen him up. It’s quite clear that Jeongin can’t be left alone
either, not now.
That only leaves God’s Menu. The restaurant with people who are just like him. People who
actually want him around and see him as their own. He’s safer with them and at the same
time, he’s in serious danger of losing himself completely. Chan can see it but he’s absolutely
powerless to stop it now.
“Chan, how can I go in there and face her?” Jeongin asks, his voice unsteady and insecure. “I
did this to her…”
Chan takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “No, you didn’t do this to her,” he tells him.
“And this isn’t going to be easy. Not at all. She’s your mother and despite everything, you
love her as one.”
Jeongin whimpers and Chan reaches up to hold his hand. “This is for you, Innie. Whatever
you need, even if it’s just a goodbye for closure, take it before it’s too late.”
It takes about twenty minutes. They sit in silence and Chan watches the way Jeongin’s eyes
flit in and out of consciousness. One minute he’s there, staring at the wall and the next, he’s
gone. His eyes zoned out, gaze far away. The beginning of the end.
Then at last, Jeongin stands and Chan follows. He walks with him back down the hall to the
door and again, Jeongin pauses right outside it.
Chan hovers behind him.
“Innie.”
Jeongin looks at him, eyes uncertain and hurt. Chan nods to him.
“You can do this.”
Then Jeongin pushes the handle down and opens the door with a quiet squeak. He heads
inside just as Chan’s phone buzzes with a message from Changbin.
Binnie: Found the guy Innie missed.
Binnie: We’re fucked.
Chan: Who is it?
Binnie: Moon Jaeyoung
A cold chill rushes down Chan’s spine as he remembers the man. The leader of the kkangpae
in Busan, the man with so many connections in both the underground and political world. His
gang wasn’t a simple gang, it was a well funded, respected empire.
He’s running for president as well. He’s a formidable opponent to Chan’s father and of
course, of course, of all the people Jeongin had to miss, it had to be him.
Once again, Chan feels a migraine pressing at his brain.
Fuck.
Chapter End Notes
Oooh okay, how are we doing, Stays?
To anyone who recognises the song that was playing during that rather disturbing and
bloody sex scene, I'm sorry. It was playing whilst I was writing it (I was listening to the
Innie version of course) and I could NOT resist.
I'm reading through all your theories and honestly, it makes my day, my week, my year
to see so much investment in a story which, if I'm being completely honest, I was not
totally serious about when I started writing it but now I'm 100% invested in making sure
it reaches the end so thank you all, I am trying to move heaven and hell to see this
through. Your comments, your thoughts, all of it is amazing it's like a parachute to me,
really :)
I'm back to missing Hyunjin like hell. Seems to be my norm. But I bring you this
chapter much, much sooner than I thought it would come out. Enjoy!
XV EXTRA: Veni Vidi Vici
Chapter Notes
Alrighty guys, before you dig into this one, I really want to draw your attention to ONE
thing in particular.
Because of the nature of this chapter, some tags I can't put up because they're actually
spoilers but I want you to know that although 'grooming' is something that happens here,
non-con is not...at least not as far as actual sex goes.
So just be aware of that, in this chapter we skate pretty close to some really
uncomfortable scenes. No underage/non-con sex but...uncomfortable. If this bothers you
at any point, please drop the chapter, I don't wanna trigger anyone.
Also, because Chan's father is that kind of asshole, transphobic language does appear in
this chapter.

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TIKTOK: 1 | 2
The first thing to understand about Lee Minho, in his opinion, is that the demons in his closet
are meant to stay there.
Locked.
Never to come out or be discovered by anyone.
Minho’s story, oddly enough, starts with a man who isn’t related to him in any way. Kim
Sungcheol loved Minho’s mother. Childhood friends, they’d grown up together and for as
long as he could remember, he’d always loved her. There was a strange elegance about her,
an effortless beauty that he adored.
But for all his efforts and awkward half-confessions, she never saw him as anything more
than a friend. It didn’t help that she was also a tortured soul with very abusive parents.
Sungcheol would always remember the beautiful, smiling, innocent girl he loved growing
into a woman who tortured herself. Who went through painful bouts of depression and
harmed herself, kept running away, turned to drugs, alcohol, anything to take away the pain.
Then finally, after one particularly self-destructive one night stand, she got pregnant.
Sungcheol was by her side the whole time. The father didn’t want responsibility, he took off.
Her mother called her a whore, her father wanted nothing to do with her. Sungcheol was all
she had. He would do everything for her, get whatever food she wanted no matter the time of
day or night, he’d come with her to every doctors appointment, he made sure she was
comfortable and loved.
But complications started a few months before Minho’s birth and by the time she reached the
seven month mark, it became clear that the birth was going to be difficult.
Maybe she knew she was going to die. Maybe she wanted to but shortly after Minho’s birth,
Kim Sungcheol found himself holding a baby in his arms and being told the love of his life
hadn’t survived.
With not a soul to help him, Sungcheol took Minho as his own. He raised him in the middle
of Seoul and like his mother, Minho wanted for absolutely nothing. Whatever the infant
wanted, he got. Sungcheol spoilt him every chance he got, he adored the child and in Minho’s
eyes, he could see her again.
Minho never called him father, he wasn’t allowed. Sungcheol insisted that Minho call him by
his first name - so they could be more friends than a father-son relationship. Their
relationship was a loving one, Minho adored him and the sentiment was returned.
It was sometime when he was seven years old that this started to change.
“Minho...Minho, wake up sweetie.”

A strange, pungent stench wakes Minho from his sleep. He blinks, confused and in the
darkness of his bedroom, his gaze settles on the cause. Sungcheol beams at him from where
he’s sitting next to the bed, his eyes watching Minho in adoration and Minho’s too young to
realise that the scent is actually alcohol.
“Sungcheol?” Minho mumbles, his hand rising to rub at his eye as he sits up. “Iss’it
morning?”
“Not yet, baby, not yet,” Sungcheol says, patting Minho’s leg until the other shuffles towards
the wall, allowing room for Sungcheol to climb onto the bed.
Minho’s too sleepy, too confused. When Sungcheol pulls his blanket up, he curls himself on
the wall side of the bed whilst Sungcheol climbs in. Minho yawns, he turns to face the wall
and feels Sungcheol’s arm wrap around him.
He’s cold. He smells like the outside air and alcohol. Minho’s eyes flutter shut and he’s too
tired to really bother with this. Maybe Sungcheol just felt cuddly tonight, he’s cuddly all the
time.
“You know, you look like your mother,” Sungcheol says and this isn’t the first time he’s said
this. He says it all the time.
Minho smiles. He’s seen pictures, his mother was beautiful. It’s a compliment that he looks
like her considering he doesn’t know what his father looks like.
“I miss her,” Sungcheol whispers.
Minho’s too young to understand. What he does understand is that Sungcheol is his guardian,
he’s the man who loves and looks after him and Minho loves him back. His eyes close, he
starts to drift off and he can feel a hand, cold and big, slipping over his side and resting at his
lower belly. Sungcheol presses into his back and his face is pressed into Minho’s hair. Minho
can feel his breath in his hair, brushing against his ear. He can feel the movement of
Sungcheol’s chest against his back.
Minho doesn’t think anything of it. Sungcheol always cuddles him, maybe tonight he’s just
sadder than usual.
“You won’t be like her,” Sungcheol whispers and Minho, too tired to engage, falls asleep.
Han Jisung saw his parents maybe once every six months.
It was normal, especially for high society like his, that things would be this way. For almost
all his adolescent life, he was raised by nannies. They’d live in the mansion with him, tutor
him, guide him, feed him, care for him and eventually send him off to school.
As a child, Jisung never wanted for anything. What he wanted, his parents could get and it
didn’t matter how expensive it was. Nothing Jisung asked for, short of maybe buying an
entire country, would make a dent in the money his parents made.
People would normally assume this meant he must have been the happiest boy alive. His
friends certainly assumed so. But a little known truth was that Jisung was as far away from
happy as he could possibly be. Racked with depression, social anxiety and a bucketload of
other mental health problems high society refuses to accept, Jisung was often left alone to
deal with his issues.
On his bad days, his nannies simply wouldn’t take him to school. When he threw a fit, he was
put in a room by himself for three hours, when he screamed in public he was quickly and
quietly taken away from the public eye. Medication was obviously not allowed, therapy
wouldn’t even be considered and of the long, long, list of staff who worked in the mansion -
most of whom had come across the young master at least once in their service - not a single
one ever thought to just sit with him and ask him how he was feeling.
Jisung was taught what every single child in that world was taught: whatever you feel, hide it.
Never let others, especially those lower than you, know what you’re really feeling.
Which made him all the more confused when one day, during school, he met a boy who took
one look at him and said the opposite.
Jisung knew OF Changbin. The boy was a year older than him, went to different classes and
all the kids were rich but Changbin was one of the few who was not only rich but also
cultured. Rumour had it he’d been living abroad for a while and his skills in languages
surpassed most of the students who had tutors but had never left South Korea.
The day Jisung meets him is sports day when he’s eight years old.
It’s a hot, sticky, humid summer day. Parents, students and teachers fill the school field to
watch the various activities going on. Taking part isn’t compulsory but Jisung wants to
because today, his mother will be here. She’d promised, she’d just come back from a business
trip in Los Angeles last night and she’ll be here today to watch her son.
Naturally, Jisung then signed up for absolutely everything to impress her. Track, shot put,
high jump, long jump, didn’t matter, so long as his mother saw him excelling. So long as she
could be proud of him.
He comes last in track, he ends up throwing the heavy ball at one of the teachers standing
behind him and almost knocking the poor man out. He fails high jump when he jumps right
into the pole and in long jump, he barely makes it past the minimum mark. Only to be told
later that his mother had called in, left a message at the desk to send her apologies because
she had to fly out to Paris.
They take Jisung to the infirmary and he doesn’t protest. He’s tired, sore from all the exertion
and on top of all of that - depressed. He can tell his teacher is sympathetic but doesn’t know
what to say as he escorts Jisung to the infirmary room. It’s a small little room with three beds
and a little bathroom joined to it.
There’s already someone sitting on one of the beds when Jisung is brought in. At first he
doesn’t notice him, he’s still too upset about his mother but when the teacher leaves him
alone, the boy on the other bed speaks.
“Saw your shot put.”
Jisung sniffs. He’s trying not to cry, he’s not allowed to cry. Kids in his position are meant to
show nothing and he’s trying but the boy on the other bed keeps talking.
“You almost hit Professor Jang in the face,” he giggles. “He’d have been knocked out cold if
it had hit. Those things are heavy.”
Jisung looks up. He recognises Changbin but they’ve never met and right now, he’s a little
too busy trying not to be upset. His head keeps telling him he shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t even
be surprised, this isn’t the first time his parents have failed to show up for something.
“I’m Changbin,” the boy says with a small nod.
Jisung sniffs and his lessons on manners resurface. “Han Jisung.”
“Can I call you Han?”
Jisung shrugs, he doesn’t see why not. It’s not like they’re going to start talking again after
this, they’re in different classes and Changbin’s older. Why would he pay attention to
someone younger than him, especially someone like Jisung who is like almost every single
other rich kid in this school.
Changbin hops up from his bed and disappears into the bathroom for a moment. He comes
back out with a toilet roll and offers it to Jisung who takes it with a confused frown.
“They don’t have tissues in this room,” Changbin says, hopping back onto his bed as though
nothing happened. “Apparently rich kids don’t cry.”
If Jisung’s parents knew how much he cried, they’d be so disappointed.
Still, his lessons come back to haunt him and even with tears streaking down his cheeks and a
toilet roll in his hand, Jisung takes a deep breath and shakes his head.
“I’m not crying.”
Changbin’s eyebrow rises. “Really? Are you leaking, then?” he teases.
Jisung doesn’t really get the joke so he nods which only makes Changbin laugh. He rubs at
his face with his sleeve and puts the toilet paper down on the bed. He doesn’t need it, he
wasn’t crying.
“It’s okay to cry, Hannie,” Changbin says and Jisung wonders how he got so comfortable
with that nickname that it just rolls off his tongue like that. “If you’re feeling sad, crying
makes it better.”
All Jisung can remember is his nannies and tutors telling him not to show any emotion. He
shakes his head. “I wasn’t crying, and if you tell anyone I was crying, I’ll say you’re lying.”
Changbin looks amused and Jisung rubs at his face with his sleeve. He’s decidedly not upset
now and more simply annoyed that he’d broken the rule of never letting anyone see him
upset.
“Why were you not crying?” Changbin asks.
Jisung feels his bottom lip wobbling before he can stop himself. He thinks of how excited
he’d been this morning, how he’d tried so hard at everything, he’d been so hopeful and the
feeling of being told his mother wasn’t even there was crushing. This isn’t the first time
either of his parents have done this to him and Jisung still isn’t numb to the feeling of utter
disappointment. It hurts.
“My mother was meant to be here,” he mumbles quietly. A tear slips from his eye, he doesn’t
bother wiping it off. It’s too late, Changbin’s seen him cry anyway. “She always does this.”
Changbin doesn’t tell him to grow up, he doesn’t tell him not to cry. He just nods. “And that
made you sad?”
Jisung nods. He feels silly. He’s not the only kid in this school with busy parents, most of the
kids in this school have busy, rich parents. Parents who travel the world and hardly ever see
their kids, Jisung is not a rarity. But that doesn’t make his pain any less.
Before he can fully berate himself for feeling upset about this, Changbin speaks. “It’s okay,”
he says softly. “You got excited and now you’re sad. That’s normal, you know.”
Jisung winces. “I know it’s normal. Everyone’s parents are busy-”
“No, I mean it’s normal to be sad about it,” Changbin cuts in quickly. “It hurts and that’s
normal. You’re not silly for being sad about it.”
Jisung feels his lip wobbling again, there’s a lump in his throat as he stares resolutely at the
floor.
“If you’re sad, be sad. Cry if you want. It’s okay,” Changbin says. “I won’t tell anyone, it’s
alright.”
Maybe it’s because Changbin is so open and warm about it or maybe Jisung would have cried
regardless but when the first sob escapes his lips, he can’t suppress the next one. Or the one
that comes after. He leans forward and cries into his knees until he feels Changbin sitting on
his bed instead.
The older boy puts his arm around him and Jisung turns to hide his face in Changbin’s
shoulder. He cries into him, wetting his shoulder, sobbing until his sobs dissolve into hiccups.
Changbin keeps an arm around him the whole time, his thumb rubbing small patterns into
Jisung’s shoulder.
Minho’s first kiss is when he’s twelve years old with a boy named Shion.
He’s assigned cleaning duty on a Friday and it sucks. It’s the end of the week and the last
thing he wants to do is stay behind to clean but because it’s his turn, he can hardly object to
it. So, after class, he sends a text to Sungcheol to tell him that he’ll be a little late coming
home and he starts to clean the classroom.
Shion is an exchange student from Osaka. He’s a skinny little thing with funny pronunciation
and a cute face. Almost everyone likes him and like Minho, he has to stay behind to clean as
well.
At first they don’t say a word, both of them pushing the desks out of the way. One sweeps the
floor whilst the other collects the rubbish and puts it away into a bigger bag. Minho can hear
the other students leaving for home and he wants to join them but, sadly, resigns himself to
his task.
“Hey Minho.”
He looks up, Shion is busy wiping the desks down but he’s watching him and there’s a weird
look in his eye. Like he has something on his mind but he’s too scared to say it.
Minho blinks and Shion finally gathers the courage to speak.
“Are you gay?
The question is so blunt that it takes Minho a few seconds to realise what he’d just asked. He
stares at the other incredulously and immediately he starts wondering why Shion would ask
him such a thing. Does he come off as gay? Do other people think he’s gay? Already he fears
being taken to the back and beaten up but before he can form any coherent answer, Shion
continues.
“It’s just...I sort of...it’s okay if you are, I just-”
“Do I look gay?” Minho asks and Shion’s eyes widen.
“No! No, I mean...I don’t know what gay people look like, if they’re meant to look like
anything but-I mean, no? Not really?” he babbles. “I’m sorry, I just...I wanted to know
because-”
“Do other people think I’m gay?” Minho questions. He puts the broom aside and faces Shion
properly. “If I’m acting like I’m gay, you gotta tell me. The last time people thought some kid
was gay, they beat the crap out of him.”
“No! No, I’m sorry, I’m really bad at explaining myself,” Shion is saying, both hands waving
frantically. “I’m not trying to out you and you don’t look...I mean you don’t act...I don’t
know how gay people are supposed to act, I just...I was just thinking that if you were, it
would be cool.”
Minho stops. He frowns. He’s not expecting that comment but before he can ask about it,
Shion continues.
“Because you’re really pretty and I….I like you.”
Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
Shion can’t seem to look at him now. He’s staring off at the wall, his cheeks bright red, hands
shaking and Minho blinks. It suddenly explains why Shion hadn’t been able to talk to him
much all year.
Minho, stunned and a little confused, says the only coherent thing he can think of at that
moment.
“...thanks?”
Shion clears his throat and he looks so pitiful that Minho almost feels sorry for him. He wants
to help but he’s not sure how to, this is the first time a boy has ever confessed to him. He’s
used to girls doing it, stuffing his desk with love letters or shyly passing notes but a boy has
never done it before so he’s not sure what to do about it.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you,” Shion says, his cheeks still bright red as he finishes
cleaning the desks. “It’s just...I’m going back home next week. I wanted to tell you before
then, I guess.”
Minho nods and they finish cleaning in silence. But it’s a different kind of silence. There’s a
weird kind of tension to it, a buzz about it even as the boys put the desks back in their places.
Minho keeps sneaking glances at Shion and the other can’t help but do the same. It’s as
though Minho is suddenly seeing him in a different light.
He surprises himself when he realises he’s almost sorry that Shion is going away so soon. He
wishes he’d told him earlier.
They finish in silence and when they look over the clean classroom again, Minho can hear
Shion sigh.
“I’m gonna miss it here.”

He sounds genuinely sad. Minho glances at him and he can’t help it. He reaches his hand out
and when it brushes against Shion’s, both boys blink at each other in surprise.
Then Shion’s fingers close over his and Minho smiles. He feels something warm in his chest,
almost giddy and he can tell by the look in Shion’s eyes that the other feels the same.
They leave the classroom, hand in hand and it’s okay. The halls are mostly empty, teachers
are all either in their offices or in the staff room, no one notices them. Minho holds Shion’s
hand all the way to the front gates and when they stop there, the sudden realisation that this is
over comes crashing down on them.
It’s really over. Minho won’t see him next week.
“Can I have your email?” Shion asks hopefully.
Minho smiles apologetically. “Don’t have an email.”
“Oh...how about your number?”
That, Minho can give. They exchange numbers but even now, Minho feels something strange.
A weird disconnect. Shion’s going back overseas, can they really keep in contact?
Then Shion puts his phone away and takes a deep breath.
“Well...goodbye, Minho.”
“Goodbye, Shion.”
They’re still holding hands, Minho feels a weird, curious tug, he doesn’t want to let go. Not
yet anyway. He sees Shion leaning in and with a pounding heart, he does the same. Their lips
touch and it’s warm, soft, gentle and a little scared.
It’s nothing more than a warm press of lips but it’s enough to send Minho’s temperature
soaring.
They pull back when he hears a car pulling up to the school gates. He looks up to see
Sungcheol in the drivers seat and he winces. Did Sungcheol see that?
He lets go of Shion’s hand and smiles. “Bye.”
Shion nods, visibly disappointed but shy. “Bye.”
Minho heads to the car. He lets himself in and as soon as he sits down, he feels the air
change. The giddy, soft, almost bubbly feeling is gone, replaced with something else.
Something colder and when he looks over at Sungcheol, he realises the other is frowning at
him.
Did he see? Is he angry that Minho kissed a boy?

“Who is that boy?” Sungcheol asks, his voice just barely controlled but Minho can hear the
anger and it makes him want to curl in his seat.
“Just...a classmate,” he answers, voice quiet and scared.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
Minho shakes his head and he’s so confused. Is Sungcheol angry because it’s a boy? Is that
it? Would Sungcheol love him less if it turned out he was gay? Does Sungcheol think he’s too
young for this? His mind is going through all the possible reasons for Sungcheol’s anger, he
never rests on the right one: jealousy.
“You’re not allowed a boyfriend, Minho,” Sungcheol tells him. “You’re not allowed a
girlfriend either.”
“I-”
“DAMMIT MINHO, YOU DON’T DATE AND YOU DON’T KISS OTHERS. DO YOU
UNDERSTAND ME?!”
Minho jumps. Sungcheol has never yelled at him in his life, not like that. His mind blanks, he
can feel himself shaking and he stares at Sungcheol like he’s a stranger. Because in this
moment, he really is.
“I...okay.”
Sungcheol’s face changes so quickly. Furious one second, repentant the next. The anger melts
off and he leans in to pull Minho into a hug. Minho’s response is just his arms automatically
moving to hug him back but he still can’t think. Not even when Sungcheol’s arms hold him
close, practically dragging him over the gearstick and into his seat, one hand on the small of
Minho’s back and the other deep in his hair.
“I’m sorry,” Sungcheol mumbles. “I just don’t want to see you grow up so fast.”
Minho tucks his face in Sungcheol’s shoulder and breathes in. Alcohol.
“I know you must grow up, but I don’t want you tainted.”
Tainted. It’s a strange word that sticks in Minho’s mind even after Sungcheol finally lets him
go and starts the car up. Minho sits in his chair, stunned and very confused. He doesn’t talk,
not even when Sungcheol buys him food as an apology. He’s just so confused.
Jisung would be the first person to tell the world that with a friend in his corner, he didn’t
need parents.
After that incident in the infirmary, Changbin becomes a fixture in Jisung’s life and because
he’s one of them, high society, rich parents and the like, no one bats an eye.
Changbin starts coming over more and more, staying in Jisung’s room and playing video
games with him. They watch crappy TV, they play outside when the servants kick them out
for air and they play a lot of video games - usually arcade games because Jisung gets a kick
out of kicking Changbin’s butt.
By the time they’re fourteen, Jisung declares Changbin as his best friend. The statement is
met with laughter.
“Best friend?” Changbin snorts where he’s sprawled on Jisung’s massive king sized bed.
They’re supposed to be doing their homework but both have opted to throw the papers on the
desk and deal with them later. “What are you five?”
Jisung pouts. “Teenagers have best friends too, Bin.”
Changbin just laughs.
They meet Bang Chan at a social function.
It’s an annual thing. Ass-numbingly boring social functions of the rich, the glamorous and
famous. Where the upper-crust of society spend the night drinking overpriced wine, hiding
behind superficial laughs and talking about how superior they are to the rabble that can’t get
past the bouncers at the door.
It’s also one of the few times Jisung actually sees both his parents because they both come
back for this event and as their son, he comes with them.
This year, the event is held in the Grand Opera Theatre. Jisung has seen the building a million
times. It looks like what he imagines a UFO does, with it’s disc-like rooftop. The building is
enormous and when Jisung steps inside, strategically placed between his parents, he tries not
to mess with the tie digging into his neck.
The main foyer is filled with dresses and suits. Various scents, expensive colognes and
perfumes permeate the air. The clink of champagne glasses, mindless chatter and laughter is
all the cue Jisung needs to do as he’s always been taught to do and put on a blank face.
Conceal, don’t feel. Don’t let them know.
He almost snorts at his own mind. He and Changbin had binged that movie when it came out
last year. They know all the words but it was that lyric that particularly resonated with them
both.
The rules of the rich and famous are stringent and in the long run, all of them are Elsa. Some
even get the gloves. None have the quirky sister to make them feel human again.
His parents bring him along as they chat and laugh with people. Several times Jisung is
brought forward, a gentle hand on his back followed by a “You remember our son, Jisung?”
It gets easier the older he gets, Jisung finds. Kissing ass, telling women they look pretty in
their glittering dresses, talking about his achievements in school is almost second nature.
Almost. He still feels the dreaded tug of social anxiety at these events. The chill that rushes
up his spine, the lump in his throat, the way his eyes can’t meet the inquisitive and judging
gaze of others. He’d be a stuttering mess if he didn’t also have fourteen years of training
packed into his head.
That and his unwillingness to embarrass his parents on the one night they’re both in the same
country as him.
He finds Changbin before long. Their parents catch up with each other whilst Jisung subtly
sidles up to Changbin.
With so many eyes, it’s impossible to do much. The slightest gesture is often misconstrued
and rumours rip through high society like an airborne virus but Changbin knows Jisung has
social anxiety. He reaches a hand out and touches Jisung’s shoulder. It’s just a pat, a friendly
gesture but it’s enough to calm Jisung’s nerves.
“Oh there he is!”
There’s a ripple in the air now. It usually happens when someone higher than the posh rabble
enters the room. Changbin and Jisung look up to see the crowd ahead parting like the red sea
and the cause is three people. An older man, a thin waif of a woman beside him and trailing
behind them is a teenager a bit older than both of them.
Jisung frowns. “Who’s that?”
Changbin takes a breath. “That would be the future prime minister of Seoul - he’s in the
running - and his wife and son. Last I heard, they were in Australia.”
It means very little to Jisung, whose interest in politics is zero, possibly in the negatives but
he can feel the change in the air. It’s almost electric. It’s like standing in a herd of sheep that
have just realised there’s a dog in the room, about to whip them all into submission and
indeed, the family in the middle let off such a vibe. Powerful.
The pause is heavy and when the initial shock and awe subsides, that’s when the braver folk
start stepping forwards. Hands out, ready to make introductions.
It’s bad for Jisung because where the crowd had been evenly spaced in the large area, now
they’re pushing and shoving in one direction and he has to grab Changbin to keep from
falling over. Someone pushes past him, several scents and dresses brush past his arm and he
almost loses his breath.
Too close. Too fucking close. Too many people and they’re too close.
Both his hands are grabbing Changbin’s arm now. Changbin seems to have thrown away the
rules of being subtle too because his arm is around Jisung’s waist and he’s trying to keep the
other from falling and having a panic attack right there.
Their parents are part of the crowd trying to get closer but neither Jisung nor Changbin have
any desire to join them, though it may be their obligation to do so.
The crowd draws in tighter and Jisung feels his knees buckle. Changbin now has both his
arms around him and he’s trying to get him out but they’re right in the middle of a crowd
pushing in one direction.
There’s too much noise. Too many people pushing into him and maybe it’s not as bad as
Jisung feels it is but his anxiety is through the roof.
Then there’s another hand on the back of his neck. It’s cold and just shocking enough to stop
Jisung shivering. He looks up in time to see a crisp, white dress shirt. Another arm is around
him now. A low voice he can’t make out over the sound and suddenly he’s being picked up.
He hangs on blindly. Arms finding broad shoulders and gripping a pressed dress shirt. The
scent of pine calms his senses and it’s not familiar but it’s comforting.
The noise fades and when it does, Jisung becomes aware of his own elevated breathing. He’s
placed on the floor and everything’s a blur, he can see colours. He can hear voices and only
one of them is Changbin.
His head is cushioned against a firm chest. There’s a hand on his own chest and when he
catches up, he can feel the person behind him deliberately breathing slow for him. As he
matches the breathing, his vision begins to clear and sound starts to return.
“That’s it,” an unfamiliar voice is saying. There’s a hand on his chest, pressing against his
heart and it’s grounding him. “Slowly now. Breathe.”
It’s not Changbin. Changbin is crouched in front of him with his eyebrows furrowed in worry.
Jisung feels cold and it’s because his senses are starting up again. Like he’s fainted and his
body has to start again.
The person he’s leaning against is warm. He spots two legs on either side of him and realises
he’s sitting between the strangers legs, back pressed to his chest.
Who…?
He feels his body calm down. Breathing evening out and when he has the energy, he cranes
his head up to see a mop of curly blonde hair.
He shuffles forward and turns around to see the son of the family that just walked in. The
powerful one and old manners drilled into him cause him to shuffle further back as though
the boy were poison itself.
“Oh, I’m sor-”
“Are you alright?” the boy asks, tone light but worried. “Haven’t seen an attack that bad in a
while.”
“I…” Jisung fidgets and glances at Changbin who is just watching the boy curiously, albeit a
little cautiously too.
Both of them are acutely aware, just as their parents are that this boy and his parents are
different. Higher. More important. It puts all of them on their toes.
Jisung swallows hard. “I’m fine, thank you. I’m sorry I-”
“It’s okay,” the boy assures him. “Social anxiety. I get it too.”
Jisung doesn’t know what to say to that and neither, it seems, does Changbin. Both stare at
the boy for a moment, unsure of what to say to break the awkward silence.
The boy smiles. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that he’s sitting on the floor in his
expensive suit. Actually, he looks quite comfortable there, back to the wall, legs spread and a
space where Jisung had been. He’s got a strangely endearing gummy sort of smile as well, the
kind that reaches his eyes and not at all the superficial smirk that people in his class normally
do.
“I’m Chan,” he says as he holds his hand out.
For a moment, both Jisung and Changbin look at it like it’s diseased.
Then Changbin grabs his hand first and shakes it firmly. “Changbin.”
Jisung follows with an awkward mutter of his name but it doesn’t seem to throw Chan off at
all. That smile stays and there’s a strange comfort about it too. It’s a genuine smile, Jisung
doesn’t often see those on anyone but Changbin.
Another awkward silence follows and Jisung is slowly becoming aware that he too sat on the
floor. If his parents don’t kill him for ruining his suit, his nannies will. He stands and starts
brushing at his ass and legs. The floors have been recently polished of course but it’s still the
floor and Jisung was always told never to sit on the floor.
“So,” Changbin says, finally breaking the silence as Chan rises to his feet. “Ever seen
Frozen?”
Jisung sees a slow smile spread on Chan’s face, lighting it up more than it was before and
decides he likes him.
When Minho discovers dance, he doesn’t look back.

It was Sungcheol’s idea. Minho had just turned fifteen and he was getting taller. He had a
dancers body quite naturally. Just like his mother, he was made to move and Sungcheol had
been quick to suggest dance lessons.
They went all out. Hip hop, jazz, ballet, even pole and Minho grasped for all of it.
There’s a high he’s found when he moves. When the music fills his ears and the world falls
away - particularly with pole. His body is lithe, he moves like he has no bones to constrain
him and when he closes his eyes, he’s in his element.
Sungcheol moves them from one side of the city to the other. They live in Hongdae now, in a
nice two bedroom apartment. It’s not much but it’s closer to the club Sungcheol is running
and Minho loves the area. It’s more alive than their last area, the nights are filled with people
rushing for bars and nightclubs to fill their evenings. Minho often sits on his bed and watches
from his window as the crowds form lines outside bars, women in evening dresses or short
skirts, men either dressed to the nines or low hanging jeans that haven’t been washed in
months.
It’s always alive with activity and no matter how busy Minho is with his extracurricular
dance courses, he always watches.
Sungcheol, despite his new club to keep him busy, is as attentive as ever. Minho’s used to it.
Where other kids his age have parents who ignore them or parents who give them space, he
doesn’t get that. He gets Sungcheol who hovers, who showers him with gifts and
compliments. Who keeps telling him how much he looks like his beautiful mother, how
proud he’d make her and while Minho does understand him and love him, the older he grows,
the more he finds himself longing for independence. For space.
He hardly gets such a thing with his routine. Sungcheol takes him to school in the morning,
then picks him up afterwards and takes him to his dance classes. Then afterwards he takes
him home, they have dinner and by the time Minho’s done, he’s usually so tired he doesn’t
have the energy to go exploring. Sungcheol leaves sometime after 8pm to tend to his bar and
it’s just a quick walk down the road whilst Minho sits in his room and watches the nightlife.
It’s not like Minho can complain. He wants for nothing. He’d thought for sure Sungcheol
would object to him learning how to pole dance but he’d jumped for it. He paid for
everything, he made sure Minho ate well, he drove him everywhere, bought him
everything...Minho really has nothing to complain about.
It’s comfortable but at the same time, it’s not.
Sometime before Minho’s sixteenth birthday, he wakes to someone climbing into bed with
him. He was sleeping on his side, facing the wall and his window. He’s too tired to really
click in when he feels a cold presence pressing in behind him, a thick arm draped over his
middle and a face pressed into the back of his head.
Sungcheol?
He can smell alcohol. He can feel a hand carding gently through his hair as another worms
under him to hold him around his waist. The smell of cologne clues Minho in on the fact that
it’s Sungcheol behind him. Again.
He’s been doing this a lot. Usually drunk and usually so late at night that Minho’s too tired to
fight him off. It’s nothing big, it’s just something that happens and it’s always weird, Minho
never knows what to think of it other than Sungcheol gets cuddly when he’s drunk.
“You smell so nice,” Sungcheol sighs, a warm puff of alcohol breath against the back of
Minho’s neck. “You smell like her.”
Minho tiredly pats Sungcheol’s hand where it’s perched on his stomach. He’s too tired to
answer.
Sungcheol’s hand pets his hair, then trails down. Calloused fingers brushing against Minho’s
ear, down his jawline to his neck. They trail, feather light up his shoulder and down his arm
to his elbow where they drop down to his side. Minho’s eyebrows furrow, his body is still
aching from dance practice that afternoon and he doesn’t have the will to bat him off, even as
his hand trails down his hip and pauses there to hold.
“I won’t let you be like her,” Sungcheol vows and this isn’t the first time he’s said so. He
always says it, vows that he won’t let Minho turn into his mother and Minho only half
understands. From what he’s managed to gather of her, his mother was self-destructive.
Beautiful but broken, her short life hadn’t been a happy one and Sungcheol was determined
that Minho wouldn’t be like her.
But in what way? Did she have depression? As far as Minho’s aware, he doesn’t have it, at
least not yet.
There’s a kiss being pressed to the back of his neck. Chapped lips and warm, rank scent of
vodka. Minho forces himself not to shiver.
It’s just Sungcheol. He’s harmless. He loves Minho and he’ll never hurt him but sometimes,
especially in moments like these, Minho feels something at the bottom of his stomach.
Something twists like anxiety and it feels wrong. Like if he ever told anyone that Sungcheol
occasionally does this, he’d be taken off him so fast it would make his head spin.
Which is weird because that’s the last thing he wants. Sungcheol has always been good to
him but people would misunderstand if they knew about...this.
He pats Sungcheol’s hand again and before long, he feels the other slump his heavy weight
against his back. Deep, slow breathing indicates he’s fallen asleep and Minho is just too tired
to shrug him off and tell him to go to bed.
So he sleeps like that. When he wakes, Sungcheol’s arms are still around him, he’s spooning
him from behind, his heat sticky against Minho’s back and Minho just doesn’t talk about it
afterwards. Neither does Sungcheol.
But he does buy Minho a new pair of shoes.
On his birthday, Sungcheol takes him out for a fancy dinner. He picks a restaurant with high
ceilings, glittering windows and a golden sheen that seems to shimmer from the walls. The
atmosphere is quite cosy, discreet and when Minho is placed at his table, he feels like he’s on
a date.
Except he’s with Sungcheol so it’s anything but.
“Choose anything you want,” Sungcheol tells him. He’s sitting there in his suit, black bowtie
shines in the light and he looks happier for some reason. “Anything on the menu, no matter
how expensive, it’s yours.”
Minho whistles. “Club going well, then?”
He guessed right. When Sungcheol told him he was opening a club, it sounded like a pipe
dream but somehow he pulled it off. The Honeypot is one of the most coveted clubs in the
area but it’s strictly adults only. Infamous for the red lights, the adult entertainment and a
friend of his who just so happens to be a talented bartender. The combination is perfect
enough to warrant attention.
Minho bites his lip. It’s actually been on his mind for a while. Once the Honeypot actually
kicked off and Minho’s dance lessons advanced, he’s dreamt of it. Of putting his training to
practice, feeling the lights, the music and the attention of others. It’s not as scary as it would
be to others. To Minho, it sounds like heaven.
“Actually,” he says, breaching the subject slowly. “There is something I want.”
Sungcheol fixes him with a curious look and Minho bravely inches the subject forward.
“I know I’m only sixteen but...I was wondering if you might let me dance at the club.”
There's a reason why he's asking and it has nothing to do with dance being his escape -
though it's a nice extra. But if he's paid for this and starts a savings account, it occurred to
him that he might actually be able to leave. Live on his own. Be independent. Of course he
can't tell Sungcheol that.
He sees the flicker of surprise in Sungcheol’s eyes and for a strange moment, it reminds him
of years back when Sungcheol had told him he wouldn’t let him be tainted. He still hasn’t
figured out what that meant and he’s never brought it up again but it stayed with him.
Tainted. Would be become tainted if he danced like that? If he took off his clothes and danced
before the crowds of hungry eyes?
Minho is a little less keen on the taking off the clothes part but it doesn’t bother him as much
as it probably should. He doesn’t have any insecurities over his body - save for the mole on
his back.
He thinks Sungcheol is going to say no. He probably should. No parent ever wants to see
their child stripping or doing anything remotely sexual, he should know from hearing his
classmates moan about their parents telling them not to have sex.
But then Sungcheol looks him over and smiles, surprising him a second time.
“When do you want to start?”
Chan changes the game in the best and worst way.
Where both Changbin and Jisung’s parents had been falling over themselves trying to get the
elder Bang’s attention, their sons had effortlessly made friends with the son.
It changes absolutely everything, starting with their parents urging them to invite Chan
around more often so they may have a chance to talk to anyone associated with him (or the
boy himself) and at school the change comes when people start to notice them more.
Chan doesn’t go to school. He’s in his final year and it made no sense to go one year back
just to get back in the system so he’s homeschooled. But Jisung and Changbin are known as
his associates and the rest of the student body take notice. They stare more, they give the two
of them a wide berth when they walk down the halls and they whisper about them.
It’s tolerable because Changbin and Jisung have each other. At home they have Chan and his
presence does change things in good ways.
Given his status, he should be scarier. At least, that’s what Jisung things. If the rules of high
society are hard enough on them, they’re harder on Chan. His father has been in politics for a
long time, his social networks, his mere presence puts him a few rungs above them all.
Yet when he’s alone with Changbin and Jisung, hidden away behind closed doors, he’s
nothing like what he probably should be. He’s older than them both but he laughs at the same
things. He knows all the words to Frozen and he even sings it in English and French. He
makes the same jokes they do, he likes to drink the same things, he’s like them and at the
same time, he’s not.
When they’re alone, it’s easy to just forget his status. To treat him as their hyung, to watch
horror movies and pretend they’re not seconds away from screaming in embarrassingly high
pitched tones. It’s so comfortable, as though Chan was always meant to be with them and
they have so much in common despite everything.
But outside of their room, Chan slips into his role so easily. Easier than Changbin or Jisung
ever had. The change is terrifying. He’ll be smiling, gummy and soft one minute and the next
he’s cold. Hard eyes staring forward like a switch flicked in him and suddenly he’s there. Far
above them all, staring from above and judging like he’s meant to.
Jisung notices that when Chan is with his father, that mode is in full force and he’s
untouchable. They both are. They exert effortless power and whatever his father says, Chan
does without question.
If his father is proud of him, it doesn’t show. It’s almost as though it’s expected that his son
would be just like him and he sends Chan out a lot. Out to meetings with people twice his
age, he sends him to meet people and take them out for the night. All this, Chan does with the
skill of a man much older than he actually is.
It’s almost as though Changbin and Jisung’s bedrooms offer Chan a space to be himself. To
be the teenager he ought to be and Jisung is more than happy to make that space for him.
“Okay, places people,” Chan says imitating the faux-French accent of the man who runs the
opera theatre their parents sometimes drag them to. He claps his hands, lips pursed in a
grandiose imitation that makes Jisung laugh. “Places! Places!”
Changbin is fiddling with the camera on the tristand. It’s his newest toy and when he’d
brought it in, Chan had been quick to suggest a way to play with it.
To be fair, they’re a little drunk. Changbin’s parents, like Jisung’s, don’t say no to him and
when he’d asked for alcohol, they hadn’t batted an eye. Maybe they should have, maybe
other parents would.
His room is the most well stocked and when they come over, it takes about an hour before
Chan, Jisung and Changbin have consumed enough for a nice buzz. A little longer before
they’re drunk and suggesting stupid ideas.
This will go down as Stupid Idea #462.
Jisung sinks a hand into his hair. At his mother’s command, the servants had taken Jisung to
the hairdressers yesterday and ordered a cut similar to his father.
On his father, he looks like a tired businessman ready for a cushy retirement. On him, it looks
ridiculous. Like a child in an oversized suit and the adults go ‘aww he looks just like his
father.’
Except that only works with kids, not with teenagers and Jisung has already cried and refused
to go to school with this awful salaryman haircut.
So Chan and Changbin’s solution came to them after two and a half bottles of vodka sprites
and because Jisung is drunk too, it sounds like a wonderful idea.
Chan gestures to the seat in the middle of Changbin’s bedroom. Right in front of the camera.
He bows like a hairdresser with an expensive client and the irony isn’t lost on Jisung.
“Sir, please take a seat,” Chan says in English.
Jisung doesn’t understand him but he gathers the gist and sits down.
Changbin swans into view, adopting the same grandiose persona and Jisung giggles at the
sight. They place a large black cape over his shoulders and pin it at the back.
Then Chan picks up the scissors and Jisung’s eyes widen.
“H-have you done this before?”
“Of course!” Chan scoffs. “Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m a world famous
hairstylist, there’s nothing I can’t do!”
“Hyung,” Jisung holds up a hand, his gaze wary and Chan drops the act for a moment.
“I won’t fuck your hair up,” he promises with the same warm smile that always makes Jisung
feel safe.
“Not sure it’s possible to fuck it up more than it’s already been fucked up,” Changbin adds
quietly. “You look like an old man.”
Jisung slaps his arm and when Changbin hops away with a giggle, Chan claps his hands.
“Now, now, now, no fighting in the Great Da Vinci’s Hair Salon!”
Jisung raises an eyebrow. “Da Vinci? Really?”
Chan slaps him in the arm this time, a light tap that sounds louder because of the material of
the cape. “No making fun of Da Vinci, boy with old man hair.”
Changbin cracks up and Chan picks the scissors up again.
Jisung looks at the camera and it just occurs to him that it’s actually on and filming this
disaster in the making. He points. “Why is the camera on?”
“Because,” Chan says as Changbin goes to pick it up from its stand. “We’re going to be
filming history.”
Jisung has the strangest feeling he’s going to regret this but he follows as Chan stands him up
and takes him to the bathroom where a chair is already pressed against the sink. It’s a little
awkward because the sink is higher and they sort of have to put some cushions on the chair to
make Jisung taller but eventually they manage to get his head into the basin.
It’s uncomfortable. Jisung leans back and feels the porcelain of the sink press into the back of
his neck, cold and unforgiving. He shivers and when Chan turns the water on, Changbin films
as he squeaks and tries to run. He almost manages it before Chan’s hand on his shoulder
keeps him on his seat.
“No, no running in Da Vinci’s studio,” Chan tutts, adopting a strange accent as he goes. “Lie
back, I make you pretty.”
It’s ten long minutes of freezing cold water, then suddenly boiling hot. Chan accidentally
manages to get the shampoo in Jisung’s eye and spends a good two minutes howling with
laughter as Jisung screams and turns to stick his eye under the faucet. They get water all over
the floor and Changbin films it all with the biggest grin.
Eventually they finish and towel dry Jisung’s hair. They bring him back into the bedroom and
place him back on the seat whilst Changbin puts the camera back on its stand. “Okay,” Chan
announces, scissors in hand once again as he switches back to English. “I cut for you. I do
good job! One dollar!”
Changbin is cackling where he’s brushing Jisung’s hair and Jisung doesn’t feel safe at all in
their hands but at the same time, he knows he is. There is nowhere safer for him than in the
presence of Chan and Changbin. Even when they’re fucking up his hair.
Eventually they get to the cutting part and Chan leans over Jisung’s bangs. He uses a comb in
one hand, scissors in the other as he starts cutting away little pieces at first and longer pieces
as he gets bolder and more used to cutting the hair.
Jisung keeps his eyes closed the entire time but he can hear Chan and Changbin giggling as
they work around him.
“Fuck, don’t make me bald,” Jisung whimpers.
“Trust me,” Chan tells him. “For one dollar, I do good job.”
Changbin’s still laughing and it’s not at all encouraging.
When they’re finally finished, Changbin grabs the camera and Chan gets the mirror. Jisung
opens his eyes and looks over the finished mess of his hair. The cuts are all over the place, his
hair is jagged, uneven lengths, triangle edges and it’s much, much shorter than it was before.
His scream wakes up the housemaids.
Minho meets Seungmin when he’s seventeen.
In the strangest way, it’s a serendipitous match. There’s a kind of raw energy about Seungmin
that Minho is attracted to. Inexperienced, wide eyed but painfully curious, Seungmin is the
kind of teenager Minho would never meet at the Honeypot.
The meeting comes with fantastic timing as well. With the Honeypot doing so well,
Sungcheol suddenly finds himself with more business opportunities and they keep him busy.
With more time alone, Minho has a sort of freedom he’s not used to.
So he spends every second day with his new friend. He shows him around Seoul, takes him
to all his favourite places and because Sungcheol is almost never home, Minho never gets
questioned about it.
He would have, if Sungcheol ever knew about it. As much as Sungcheol allows Minho to
dance and even work in his bar whilst underage, there are some lines that Sungcheol draws
quite clearly. The first is that Minho isn’t allowed to date anyone, the second is that he most
certainly isn’t allowed to fuck anyone. He is to remain ‘untainted’ whatever the fuck that
means and Minho can only put it down to the fact that his mother must have been ‘tainted’.
But then he had to wonder was it always going to be like this? Was he always going to be the
golden canary in a cage, watching the world outside but never being able to join?
That’s where Seungmin came in and he was a blessing with absolutely perfect timing.
Minho likes him. Seungmin is somewhat normal, he has a nice relationship with his mother
(a first as far as Minho’s ever seen) and as far as he’s gathered, he had a friend back in Busan
but things didn’t end well there.
When Seungmin turns sixteen, Minho kisses him in the park and despite Sungcheol’s voice in
the back of his head, Minho genuinely enjoys it. Intimacy, he’s found, is what he’s been
craving. He’d been craving a friend, someone to be close to him ever since Shion but because
of Sungcheol, he’s never had the chance.
That’s when Sungcheol comes back. When he returns from another business trip and declares
it’ll be the last for a while, Minho knows he can’t know about Seungmin. So he tells
Sungcheol nothing and he tells Seungmin to take their relationship extra slow.
It’s kind of a blessing because Seungmin - like him - is a wide eyed virgin. But even more so
because up until now he’d obviously never contemplated even liking a boy, let alone kissing
one and going to bed with him. It gives him plenty of time to come to terms with it and it also
gives Minho plenty of time to figure out how to keep hiding him from Sungcheol.
He feels bad that he has to lie to Seungmin about it but it’s easier than the truth. The truth
being that he has a possessive kind-of-father at home. He tells Seungmin he lives in a
shithole apartment to deter the boy from any thoughts of coming over and he feels bad then
too.
Some nights he works at the club and it’s not that bad. Dancing is still his escape, still his
space where it’s just him and the music. When he’s really in that zone, the hungry eyes on his
form don’t even matter, he can’t feel them. All he feels is his lithe body pressed against the
pole, his limbs moving with perfect accuracy to the beat and the heat of exertion rushing
through him. It’s the perfect high.
The money is nothing to scoff at either.
The problem is Sungcheol. Now that he’s back, he’s at the club all the time and he should be
doing managerial things like staying in the office, sorting invoices, making sure his dancers
actually get paid. Yet despite the work he should have, he’s always there when Minho dances.
Watching him. His eyes are the hardest to bear and Minho can’t quite figure out why he
insists on watching.
Is it fatherly pride? It feels creepy if it is. Or is it something else?
Minho doesn’t even really want to go there.
Sungcheol crawls into his bed one night after Minho had spent the day off with Seungmin. It
had been nice, they’d gone to the park, made out on the bench and Seungmin started getting
handsy. He’s been doing that a lot more now, impatience tearing through him as he gets more
and more ballsy with how he touches Minho’s body. Minho knows, he’s beyond ready now,
but it’s not a matter of either of them being ready, it’s a matter of finding the perfect time to
do it without Sungcheol finding out.
And lately, he’s been home so often that Minho hasn’t been able to do anything with
Seungmin, though he’s just as impatient.
It’s three in the morning, the perfect time for Sungcheol to crawl into his bed. Minho wakes
to the bounce of his bed as the man crawls in behind him and snuggles into his back. He
reeks of alcohol again and his arm around Minho’s tiny waist is too heavy.
“Sungcheol,” Minho mumbles sleepily. He tries to bump his shoulder back in a bid to shove
him off. “Go to your own bed.”
It doesn’t sound like a son scolding his drunk father. It sounds like a lover and the realisation
makes Minho cringe.
“I’m sorry I’ve been away so long,” Sungcheol mumbles. He exhales and all Minho can
smell is alcohol and decay. It almost makes him recoil. “Been so busy lately...missed you…”
Minho pats his hand where it’s sitting on his stomach and winces. He’s too hot, too heavy to
push off and he smells.
Then Sungcheol’s arms tighten around him and he presses a kiss to the back of Minho’s head.
“I have to go away again. Businessman in Daegu really likes my design...don’t wanna go..”
“Go,” Minho encourages lightly. “It’s good for networking and money.”
Not at all because Minho loves his space and he gets that when Sungcheol goes away. Not to
mention no nights of Sungcheol climbing into his bed and spooning him like this. It’s perfect
timing because when Sungcheol goes away, Minho can finally have sex with Seungmin.
Maybe he’ll take him to the bar, show him what he can do.
He can feel Sungcheol’s pout on the back of his neck and he would smile if he weren’t so
uncomfortable.
“Do you miss me when I go?” Sungcheol asks, his voice sounds pouty now.
Minho sighs. “Yes, sure.”

“Really?”
“Sure.”
Sungcheol’s fingers start to move a little on Minho’s stomach. It’s a light touch, barely
noticeable except for the fact that Minho is always hyper aware whenever someone’s
touching him.
Then Sungcheol’s breath is too close to Minho’s neck, his lips brush his skin and this isn’t
like the other times, this is different. For starters, Minho isn’t too tired to deal with it but he is
frozen with confusion.
“Are you still pure?” Sungcheol whispers.
Minho looks to the window just above him. What business is it of Sungcheol’s if he isn’t?
“Are you dating anyone?”
“No,” Minho lies, almost too fast to be believable.
Maybe it’s because Sungcheol is drunk, or maybe it’s because he wants to believe him
because he nods and hums, satisfied.
“Good,” he sighs. “You won’t be like her. You’re pure. You’re different.”
Minho doesn’t understand. There’s something different about this encounter, something that
sets all his nerves on edge but, frustratingly enough, freezes him to the spot.
He’s wide awake now. He feels every touch, every brush of lips, he feels every inch of
Sungcheol’s body pressed against his body and it feels wrong. But he’s paralyzed.
Sungcheol’s breathing gets deeper and deeper and just before he falls asleep, his arm tightens
around Minho, pushing him flush against his body where Minho can feel something hard
pressing into his asscheeks. Something that is NOT meant to be there.
“You’re mine,” Sungcheol mumbles.
Minho waits until he’s fully asleep before he gets himself out of Sungcheol’s arms and goes
to throw up in the bathroom.
In Jisung’s second to last year of school, Chan’s father starts preparing himself to be a serious
contender as the next prime minister. The problem is that his public image, despite being
powerful and rich, is not the best for anyone who isn’t dripping in money.
His stance on LGBTQ+ blocks him from their vote, his status as a man of wealth who has
never had to work a day in his life pulls him away from the general public who’d rather see
someone who understands their daily struggles and even among his own contemporaries, he’s
too powerful. Too scary. Someone in their corner, on their level, is a better choice.
Naturally, the job of helping him falls to his one and only son. The change in Chan is
noticeable from day one. With Chan out of school, he has more time to follow his father to
business meetings, organize his interviews and speeches. He spends a lot of time in his office,
locked away from his friends as he strategizes new and interesting ways to make his father
appeal to the public vote.
Changbin is in his final year and Jisung in his second to last. By day, they go to school and
afterwards they try to help Chan in any way they can. Even if it means a group chat with
Chan locked in an office somewhere in central Busan whilst Changbin and Jisung hide away
in one of their rooms and try to come up with new ideas.
Shake hands, kiss babies, make donations, hire gay people, that sort of shit.
The race really starts heating up during the night of the formal debate, a televised event
where the contenders have the chance to appeal to the public and to answer hard questions
about their views on public issues.
That night, Changbin and Jisung meet Chan at the back of Studio 4. They’re ushered into a
dressing room where they see the stylists fussing with his father’s hair.
His father looks calm but it’s Chan who looks stressed. Chan with dark circles under his eyes,
notes in his hands and a slight shake in his step as he guides Jisung and Changbin to the
couch in the room and sits them down.
They’re there for him, not for his father. Changbin takes one look at Chan and gets up.
“I’m gonna find you something to eat,” he says and disappears from the room without a
backward glance.
Jisung watches Chan. In his hands, he has a list of questions the debate is going to ask his
father. They’ll tear him apart if he gets this wrong. He should be more nervous than Chan is
but for some reason, he’s not.
“Okay, one more time,” Chan says as he paces back to his father. He pulls up one of the cards
and reads: “Mr Bang, what is your stance on transgender dressing rooms and toilets?”
His father bats a hairdresser away from his hair and hums. “Men and women are born with
specific genitalia,” he answers. “Let’s not complicate matters.”
Chan groans. “No, father, you’re supposed to say you’re open to the idea of supporting them.
You want these people to like you.”
His father snorts. “Trannies can hardly be counted as people…”

“Focus!” Chan urges. “You get this wrong, they’ll grill you out there and it won’t matter what
I do, no amount of work will help you come back from that!”
“Fine, fine, ask again,” his father mutters with a roll of his eyes.
Jisung frowns. It’s a strange thing to see. Chan’s father is going to be the one out there
answering these questions and he’s going to be the face people spit at if he gets it wrong, he
should be taking it more seriously. He should be far, far more nervous than Chan is.
The longer he watches them, the more he realises that the reason why Chan is so stressed is
exactly because his father isn’t. Because his father still believes that even if he gets this
wrong, Chan will clean up after him.
And why wouldn’t he think that way? Chan’s been cleaning up after him since day one.
Changbin comes back into the room with a sandwich in a container and a can of coke. He
pushes both into Chan’s hands and takes the cue cards from him.
“Sit,” he says, pointing to the couch. There’s no room in his tone for argument.
Chan goes to the couch and flops next to Jisung as Changbin starts questioning Chan’s father.
Jisung watches Chan’s shaking hands trying to open the container and when it appears he’s
struggling, he reaches over to open it for him.
“Thanks,” Chan mumbles quietly. “Are you hungry? You want some?”
“You eat,” Jisung tells him, handing the sandwich back once the container is open. “You look
like you haven’t eaten in hours.”
He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.
Chan eats quietly, every now and then he glances at his father but Changbin has him under
control for now. Jisung squirms for lack of something helpful to do and when Chan finishes
his sandwich, he gets up.
“I’ll get you something else,” he promises.
“Hannie, you don’t have to,” Chan tells him. “Sit down, relax. One of us should.”
“No, you need to eat. You need to rest,” Jisung says. He doesn’t sound as firm as Changbin
but he does point at the couch. “Lie down, try and rest. We’ve got this.”
Chan’s smile is watery, the kind of smile a parent would pull when their kid is doing
something adorable. Jisung takes his cell phone with him and heads out of the room. He’d
seen some vending machines on his way in, maybe that’s where Changbin got the food from?
Maybe Chan could do with some chocolate? Some dessert to perk him up again.
The hallways in the back of the studio are empty, save for one or two people from the staff
rushing back and forth with earpieces and someone telling them to be somewhere in two
seconds. They ignore Jisung as he wanders along in search of the vending machines.
He finds the vending machines next to the staircase. Jisung hums as he pauses in front of
them and looks over the food on offer.
He’s just about to make his order when a big fat hand grabs his shoulder and whips him
around. Jisung is stunned, shocked into silence as he comes face to face with a much older,
much bigger man.
He’s a stranger. At least, Jisung’s never seen him before. He’s dressed in a dark blue pinstripe
suit, dark hair oiled and combed to the side. He’s quite round, short for a man his age, his
skin is awful with spots and great big gaping pores. Most of the fat seems to be on his face,
causing his eyes to squint naturally as his cheeks push the skin up.
“You,” he says in a deep voice. “You work for Mr Bang, right?”
Jisung frowns. “What?”
“Saw you come out of his room.”
Jisung looks the other man up, head to toe but there’s absolutely nothing familiar about him.
Nothing distinctive either. Is he a staff member who works here? Does he work for the
opposition? Jisung can’t tell.
“I’m...a friend of his son,” Jisung says, his hands automatically up in surrender, as though
afraid this man is going to grab his shoulder again.
The man looks him up and down and judging by the look on his face, he doesn’t seem to like
what he sees. As he comes closer, Jisung gets a waft of thick cologne that tries and fails to
cover the body odour underneath. A thick, sausage finger pokes him in the chest, causing him
to stumble back into the vending machine.
“Boys like you, you’re the stain of this country,” the man spits, his voice dripping with
hatred. “And you work for Monster Bang, an even bigger stain.”
Jisung figures this guy has to be part of the opposition team, it’s the only thing that makes
sense.
“Second and third generation chaebol,” the man seethes. “Draining the working class dry
while you prance around in your expensive suits and cars your daddies bought you.”
What IS this guy’s problem?
Jisung steps out of the way of another poke and puts his hands out. “I don’t know what’s
wrong with you but I gotta-”
“YOU’RE what’s wrong with me!” the man shouts. “You and your kind, you’re what’s wrong
with everything in this country! Do you even KNOW how hard we have to work to make
ends meet? Do you even care? Of course you don’t because you’re supporting Monster Bang
and if he becomes Prime Minister, we’re all fucked!”
There goes that nickname again. Monster Bang. Is that what the working class calls him?
Jisung figures by now that this guy cannot be reasoned with. Either he’s got some serious
beef with rich people or there’s something mentally wrong with him. Either way, Jisung’s
legs are dying to get out of the situation and run back to Chan and Changbin. Extra food or
not.
But the guy is blocking his way out.
“I need to go,” Jisung says, his shaky tone betraying how afraid he is. “I’m sorry you feel that
way but I-”
“Oh you’re not going anywhere, kid!” the man snarls, his hand coming out again to push
Jisung and this time his back hits the wall. “Did you know I lost my daughter because of
some shithead chaebol slamming his Audi into her? And what did the justice system do?
Nothing. Because they were all paid off by his father! You’re what’s wrong with this country,
you’re ALL what’s wrong with this country! And if I can make it better by killing one of you
for my daughter, then so be it!”
Jisung dodges to the left, narrowly avoiding a charged punch aimed for his face. He drops to
the floor but not before a knee pounds into his stomach, winding him and dropping him to the
marble flooring. He coughs and reels back as he feels a boot slam into his shoulder, causing
him to howl in pain.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, this guy is serious. He’s actually hell bent on killing him.
Jisung’s watery eyes look up just in time to see another boot coming his way and he just
barely avoids it by flinging himself to the right and scrambling out of the way.
He can feel his stomach aching, his shoulder feels almost dislocated where he’s been kicked
but adrenaline pushes him to his feet. He can taste blood in his mouth, he’s shaking head to
toe but his feet push him down the hallway as he hears the man running after him.
“CHAN!” he screams as he races down the hallway. “BIN! SOMEONE HELP!”
Screaming hurts, running hurts, Jisung’s breath comes in short, terrified pants as he tries
every door until one on the left finally gives. He rushes into the room and slams the door just
before the man can run in with him.
It’s dark. Jisung pants as he holds the doorknob with all his strength. With his elbow, he
fiddles around for a light switch and when he finds one, the room fills with light to reveal
he’s in an empty meeting room. There’s a long table, eight black chairs around it and a large
screen on the wall.
There’s no lock on the door and when the man on the other end starts rattling furiously at the
doorknob, it’s all Jisung can do to hold it shut and cry.
He’s kicking at the door. The wood rattles dangerously as it’s pounded, kicked and the
doorknob keeps shaking with his furious efforts to get in.
In that moment, Jisung wants Chan and Changbin. He thinks he’s going to die here and
they’ll find him later, his mangled body probably shoved in a supply closet with this lunatic
either getting away with it or being sent off to an asylum.
Then the doorknob wrenches counter-clockwise and a kick makes the door shudder so hard
that it throws Jisung off. Jisung scrambles back, his backside hitting the corner of the table as
the door is slammed open to reveal the man on the other end, just as crazy and furious as he
had been before.
Jisung sobs, he scrambles backwards, trips on the chairs as he tries to move to the far end of
the room. The man advances on him like a cat would to a mouse.
“Please,” Jisung pleads, his hands grabbing one of the chairs in a feeble attempt to block the
man from coming any closer. “Please, I didn’t,..I didn’t kill your daughter.”
“But you’re part of the problem,” the man hisses and Jisung shrieks when he grabs the chair
and throws it clear over the table to the other side of the room.
Jisung scrambles back to the wall and runs to the other side of the table, his hands grabbing at
chairs and knocking them over but this man keeps coming.
“CHAN!” he screams. “CHAN HELP ME!”
The man vaults and Jisung can see it in slow motion. Horrible, terrifying slow motion where
his face is contorted in rage, his hands stretched out to grab Jisung.
Perhaps it’s adrenaline again but Jisung’s first instinct is to reach for the first thing he can
grab. His left hand finds something thin and metal on the table and he grabs it. Just as the
man grabs him, he thrusts his hand forward to whack this man in the throat.
He thinks what he grabbed was a coaster or something but when the first spurt of blood hits
his face, his eyes focus on the item in his hand and a cold chill rushes through him when he
realises it’s actually a receipt holder. A long, thin spike of metal with a flat base. There are
even some receipts still attached as the sharp edge is driven into the man's throat.
Jisung’s breath comes out in a gasp. The man before him is just as shocked, wide eyes not
even comprehending what’s going on as the blood keeps spurting out where Jisung had hit an
artery.
Then he drops hard like a sack of sand and Jisung falls back to the floor. He’s shaking and he
scrambles back, eyes wide with terror as the blood starts seeping out onto the white marble
floor.
Chan and Changbin rush into the room a minute later.
“Oh Jesus,” Changbin breathes as Chan closes the door behind him to keep the scene from
other eyes.
They rush to Jisung first and crouch in front of him. Jisung doesn’t even notice them at first.
“Han! Hannie!” Changbin calls, fingers clicking in front of Jisung’s face to get his attention.
“Hannie, are you alright? Did he hurt you?”
“Han, baby, talk to us,” Chan begs, his hands already rushing to check Jisung’s arms and
torso to make sure he’s not injured or bleeding.
It’s not until Chan touches the bruise in his abdomen that Jisung gasps and stares at them
both, suddenly snapped out of his shock. The first thing he does is sob and Changbin
immediately wraps him in a tight hug.
Jisung cries into his shoulder. He feels Chan’s arms around him too and he sobs, he screams.
He can’t stop shaking, he’s covered in blood and he’s so, so terrified.
A voice over the intercom asks for the opponents to come to the main floor and Chan pulls
back to look at the dead man on the floor.
“Oh fuck.”
“What?” Changbin lifts his head where it was pressed to Jisung’s hair.
“That guy works for the opposition, they’re gonna come looking for him,” Chan says. “We
gotta get rid of him.”
“No, don’t!” Jisung screams, his hand scrambling to grab Chan’s before he can go too far
away. “Don’t let go! Don’t let go of me!”
Changbin looks at him and Chan comes back to crouch in front of him. He takes Jisung’s face
in his hands and very gently wipes his tears with his thumb.
“Hannie, baby, listen to me,” Chan says and he’s using his calming voice. A low, deep,
soothing tone that always gets Jisung’s attention. It works like a charm because Jisung clings
to it. “We’ve gotta get rid of this body before someone comes and finds him. Take a deep
breath for me and hold on. Once we’ve gotten rid of him, we’ll look after you but right now, I
need you to be strong for me.”
Jisung sobs, he’s shivering but Chan just wipes his tears away consistently and holds eye
contact.
“Stay with me, Hannie. We’re not going anywhere,” Chan says. “We’re right here. We’re
gonna get rid of this body, okay?”
Against all reason, Jisung nods.
Chan turns to Changbin and his tone changes then, fast and urgent. “Bin, in my back pocket
are the car keys. The trunk has tarpaulin, grab it and bring it here without anyone seeing you.
Avoid the security cameras at the doors, go around the back entrance.”
Changbin follows the command without question. He grabs the keys and heads out of the
room. When he’s gone, Chan turns back to Jisung.
“Can you stand?”
Jisung nods. He rises to his feet with Chan and watches as Chan goes to push a chair under
the doorknob.
“I’ll open that when Binnie comes back,” Chan says as he turns to look at the man on the
floor. He looks around and points to a cabinet at the back of the room next to the TV monitor.
“Han, grab the tissues in there.”
Jisung, attuned enough to the tone of Chan’s voice, moves to follow the command with ease.
He sniffs as his shaking hands open the cabinet doors and how had he not noticed this here
when he first came into the room? Fear and tunnel vision must have excluded it from view.
He brings the box of tissues back and watches as Chan leans over the body and examines the
receipt spike still stuck in the man’s neck.
“Well...you did a nice job. Right in the main artery,” he observes. The tiniest hint of pride in
his voice actually feels good to Jisung who likes it when he impresses either Changbin or
Chan.
Changbin comes back and when Chan hears his voice, he lets him in. They work fast then.
Jisung guards the door as Changbin lays the tarpaulin out on the floor and helps Chan move
the man into it.
“Fucking hell he’s heavy,” Changbin complains as they finally shove him onto it.
Jisung makes sure the chair is keeping the door closed before coming over to help them clean
the floors.
“I’ll sort this out later,” Chan promises when they’re finished wiping off the obvious blood
from the floor. It comes off easily because of the marble but there’s always the promise that a
blue light will reveal everything. “For now, we have to carry him around the back. Avoiding
all security cameras. We’ll put him in the car and leave the main staff to handle my father -
okay?”
Seeing no reason to oppose, Jisung and Changbin nod in agreement.

The hardest part is carrying the man out. Wrapped up in tarpaulin, it takes all three of them to
carry him and with Chan at the front, he keeps pausing to look around corners, watching for
any staff member or security camera. Luckily, as the debate is actually running, most people
are out in the main room for the filming.
Jisung’s arms are aching as they finally manage to get him outside and towards the car. Chan
kicks it open and the three of them groan as they shove the man in the back, tarpaulin and all.
“Okay,” Chan heaves, slamming the trunk shut. “Fuck, that was hard work. You two okay?”
Jisung nods, he’s still shivering so Changbin wraps an arm around his shoulders.
“Alright. Han, get in the car, Binnie, you drive,” Chan says, tossing the keys to him. “I’ll
clean this up while everyone’s distracted and meet you back at mine. Okay?”
Changbin frowns. “What do you mean clean it up?”
“I have contacts, they’ll erase every trace,” Chan promises as he gently pushes the boys
towards the front. “Now go, I’ll meet you later.”
Jisung feels the adrenaline ebbing away, leaving him with this awful, empty feeling of dread
and fear. He climbs into the car and as Changbin pulls the car away, he looks over his
shoulder to see Chan still at the doorway, phone in hand, work mode on.
They still have a body to get rid of. They’re not in the clear yet but when Changbin reaches
over to hold his knee, Jisung lets out a shaking breath and leans back in his seat, exhausted.
They barely reach Chan’s house before he passes out.
When he wakes up, he’s no longer in the car but in a large bed. He recognises the green
dragon design of the duvet as Chan’s. Chan has a massive king sized bed that fits all three of
them quite comfortably but of all the houses, they’ve been to his the least - mainly because
this house doesn’t hold good memories for Chan and he doesn’t like being here if he can help
it.
Jisung sits up to find Chan sitting on the end of the bed. Changbin is sitting on the windowsill
that overlooks the gardens. He’s hunched over with his head in his hands and Chan looks
spaced out.
“Hyung?” Jisung asks, he doesn’t realise how small his voice sounds until he hears it.
The other two look up. Chan looks exhausted, Changbin just looks upset but they seem to
soften when they see him.
“Hey,” Chan says softly. “It’s okay now. All done.”
Jisung thinks of the body and picks nervously at the blankets. “All..done? Hyung, what did
you do?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Chan tells him. “For now, you need sleep.”
Sleep is the last thing Jisung wants. He still feels battered and bruised, his heart is still
beating too fast like he’s still being chased. The man is dead but Jisung still feels vulnerable.
Fortunately, Chan seems to pick up on it because he climbs up the bed until he’s next to him.
With one arm, he gently pushes Jisung back until he’s lying down again. He then lies down
himself and props his head up with his arm so he can still watch Jisung’s face.
Jisung doesn’t notice Changbin has moved either until the bed dips and Changbin’s weight
appears on his other side so he’s effectively cased between the two of them.
“Sleep, Han,” Changbin tells him, his arm flopping over his middle with Chan’s.
It just occurs to Jisung now that he’s murdered someone. He’d always heard about things like
this. People usually said, killing someone was something everyone regretted, you can’t take
back this action, it changes you.
Maybe it had, but it didn’t feel as damning as he thought it would.
Still, Chan and Changbin had covered it up without question.
In a moment of slight insecurity, Jisung grips Chan’s shirt in one hand, Changbin’s in the
other.
“Still with me?” he asks, voice a little small.
Chan just smiles, Changbin snuggles into his side.
“Always,” Chan promises.
“Until the bitter, bitter end, Hannie,” Changbin adds quietly.
Through some miracle, Minho manages to keep Seungmin a secret for eight whole months.
He and Sungcheol don’t talk about that night. Mainly because Sungcheol can’t actually
remember it and Minho doesn’t want to think about it. After that night, Sungcheol had left for
Daegu as promised and Minho immediately took advantage of his night by bringing
Seungmin to the club.
They had sex that very night and after months and months of taking it too slow, it was well
overdue.
Maybe Sungcheol does remember something though because even when he comes back,
something’s different. He gives Minho a little more space for no reason, disappears even
when Minho knows he doesn’t have a meeting.
Not that Minho particularly minds, he likes the free time to be with Seungmin.
The problem comes where, sometime after Seungmin’s mother gets married, Minho comes
home to Sungcheol sitting at the dining table, obviously waiting for him.
The house is dark, it’s cold and Minho shuts the front door behind him to see Sungcheol’s
dark presence just sitting there, watching him.
“What’s his name?”
Minho frowns. By now he’s so used to lying about Seungmin that it comes as second nature
but he gets the feeling that it’s not going to work this time.
“Who?”
Sungcheol snorts. “Your boyfriend, don’t lie to me, Minho.”
“I don’t have a-”
Something is pushed onto the table and Minho’s stomach drops. He takes his shoes off, drops
his bag and steps into the room to flick the light off. There on the table is a polaroid shot,
taken from a safe distance and it’s Minho on the park bench kissing Seungmin.
Fuck.
Minho stares at Sungcheol with wide eyes. “...have you been stalking me?!”
“I’m your guardian.”
“This is a violation of rights!”
“And I’m your guardian, I’m protecting you!” Sungcheol roars and it reminds Minho of the
time he’d screamed at him in the car after seeing him kiss Shion at school.
But this is different. He’s not a kid anymore, he’s eighteen years old, he’s had sex, he has a
boyfriend, he’s more independent than Sungcheol has ever known. He’s almost an adult with
the full right to behave like one too.
Minho slams his hand on the table and he feels some gratification when he sees Sungcheol
jump in surprise.
“Yes! Okay! I have a boyfriend,” he says, voice sharp and angry as he glares down at
Sungcheol. “And we’ve fucked so many times I’ve lost count. He’s kissed me so hard I’ve
had bruises on my fucking tongue, I’ve had his cock down my throat and I’ve tasted his
cum-”
“Stop, Minho, please!” Sungcheol begs but Minho’s done. He’s on a roll here and he’s angry.
“And if that makes me dirty or tainted or whatever the fuck you want to call it, so be it. I’m
eighteen now and I’m allowed to make these decisions for myself!”
“You’re not because you belong to me!” Sungcheol shouts, finally rising to his feet to tower
over Minho. “You’re mine! You’ve always been mine! I’m the one who houses you, I look
after you, I feed you-”
“You molest me in my fucking bed!” Minho screams at him. “You buy me whatever I want so
I won’t tell anyone what you do to me but you touch me and you kiss me and you-”
“You’re mine!”
“I’m not!” Minho shrieks, slamming his hand on the table again to make his point. “You
fucking child molester, I should have reported you the first time you started doing that!”
Sungcheol reaches for him and Minho jumps back. He rushes for the door and grabs his bag
as he hears Sungcheol stumbling behind him. Minho doesn’t look back as he puts his shoes
on, opens the door and heads right out again, slamming it behind him.
He’s halfway down the street when Sungcheol’s voice sounds from the apartment entrance
doors.
“Fine!” Sungcheol screams. “Don’t come back! You’re a fucking whore just like your
mother!”
Minho doesn’t answer. He keeps walking and the night is freezing. He doesn’t have his
clothes, he only has a few books in his bag, his phone in his pocket and the clothes on his
back. It occurs to him to call Seungmin but then he remembers he’ll have to explain
everything and he can’t do that. He’s spent too long lying about everything, he doesn’t even
want to admit to himself that things were that bad at home.
He calls Insung instead, the bartender at the Honeypot. Although the man works for
Sungcheol, he’s a good friend to Minho and he comes to pick him up without question.
Minho ends up on his couch that night, crying into the pillows and shaking like a leaf.
He doesn’t tell Seungmin what happened. He doesn’t even tell Insung, not details anyway. He
keeps it locked away, the horrifying truth that Sungcheol had been trying to groom him ever
since his mother died. A sick replacement for her.
He quits working at the Honeypot of course. He cuts off every possible way for Sungcheol to
find him again. But because he’s been lying all this time to Seungmin and because he still
doesn’t want to talk about what happened, he doesn’t tell Seungmin that he’s stopped
working.
Seungmin gets jealous, the way he gets jealous over the thought of other people watching his
body feels possessive and reminds Minho way too much of Sungcheol. The lies pile up and
in the end, Minho has to walk away from him too. Because he can’t tell Seungmin the truth
and there’s a large part of him that doesn’t trust him enough with such a secret.
That’s how their relationship dies and after a few weeks of hiding from Sungcheol and
counting his savings, Minho bids goodbye to Seungmin and runs for Busan in the hopes that
Sungcheol will never find him.
After his win at the debate, Chan’s father starts gaining more attention. More traction and
way more enemies.
Chan starts to work again and because Changbin and Jisung never leave him, they get to see
it all. After the incident at Studio 4, Jisung, Chan and Changbin eventually decide to move
into an apartment together. It just makes sense in the long run. They can’t leave each other
alone for fear that one of Chan’s fathers enemies might attack again.
On Chan’s orders, both Jisung and Changbin are put through self defence classes. Jisung
starts seeing a therapist Chan trusts. Somehow, they manage to fall into a comfortable routine
where it’s just the three of them weaving in and out of each others lives so comfortably it’s as
though they were always meant to be together.
Jisung gets better. It’s easier when he starts working out and getting stronger. Strong enough
to defend himself should he ever have to.
But the race for Prime Minister is brutal and as his father’s enemies begin to pile up, each one
badmouthing him on live television and in public, buying their way into votes, undermining
him at every turn, Chan finally puts his foot down.
“We have to get rid of them,” Chan says one night after a lengthy and heated phone call with
his father.
Jisung raises his eyebrows, he’s standing at the kitchen bench, halfway through cutting
vegetables. Changbin is hovering near him trying and failing to help (man can’t even crack
an egg) and the two watch Chan curiously.
“What do you mean by getting rid of them?” Changbin finally asks, voice a little more than
wary.
Chan gives them a look and both of them get it right away.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Chan says as he pushes his hand through his hair. “My father has either lost it or he’s
starting to make sense and I’m starting to lose it. I don’t know.”
Recognising the signs of a migraine, Changbin ditches his attempts to help and goes to the
medicine cabinet to grab painkillers instead. He brings them to the table with a tall glass of
water and Chan mumbles his thanks as he takes them.
Changbin sits down. “It’s not that...I’m against what you’re suggesting. The opposition has
some seriously fucked up guys, I mean look at the one that almost killed Hannie.”
Jisung shivers a bit and Changbin continues. “The problem is how to get away with it. You
can buy your way into the police but we need something more solid than that. We need
evidence to go away.”
It hadn’t been easy to get rid of the last body. Through sheer luck, Chan happened to know an
area where they were redeveloping housing properties. They’d buried the man in the dead of
the night, knowing damn well that the area would be filled with concrete the next morning. It
was luck, but it wouldn’t work in the long run.
Chan sighs heavily and buries his face in his hands. “We could burn them?”
“Not plausible in the middle of Busan,” Changbin mutters. “Plus you’d have to keep driving
the bodies out to other areas to burn and what if someone sees and bones don’t burn so easily
so no.”
Chan groans, he’s too tired to come up with intelligent ideas. And really there are only so
many ways to get rid of a body.
“Invest in a farm?” Chan suggests. “Use the pigs?”
Changbin frowns. “Well...your father was saying he wants you to get into business somehow.
I’m not sure he meant a farm.”
“But pigs eat everything,” Chan points out tiredly. “It could be a way.”
Jisung looks down at the vegetables he’s been cutting up. He glances at the meat sitting on
the bench and that’s when the idea hits him.
“We could eat them.”
Chan and Changbin look at him as though he’s grown an extra head.
“No, really,” Jisung continues, eyes wide. “Your father wanted you to get into business?
Open a restaurant. You have enough money and enough power to build from scratch. You
have enough contacts in the police force to turn a blind eye - at least enough to set up. We can
get rid of bodies in the menu.”
“You mean…” Changbin blanches. “Serving...human meat?”
“I’ve heard it tastes like veal,” Jisung points out helpfully.
A weird sort of silence falls in the kitchen. Chan and Changbin stare at each other and then at
Jisung but no one’s kidding. No one is about to jump up and say ‘JUST KIDDING THAT’S
A TERRIBLE IDEA’.
Instead, after a long, long time spent thinking, Chan’s quiet voice breaks the silence.
“It’s just...crazy enough to work.”
A few months later, the first restaurant of Gods’ Menu is built in Busan and that’s when
people start going missing.
With no qualifications, no certificate to say he finished school and no contacts in the city,
Minho’s opportunities for employment fall tragically short. It’s through some sort of cruel
irony that he’s hired for the only job he’s actually really good at.
The Cat’s Cradle is a little more cosy than the Honeypot. Where the Honeypot had been all
red lights and clean, polished floors and decked out music, Cat’s Cradle is smaller, warmer
somehow despite being actually quite seedy.
Dance, his first true love and escape, comes back to him so naturally and within mere days,
he becomes a favourite at the club.
It’s some months after he sets himself up in a shitty small apartment, gets himself a cat and a
modest living that he meets Christopher Bang.
Of course he knows about him. Minho doesn’t live under a rock, he knows the Prime
Minister’s son because he keeps seeing him in the news. It surprises him to see him here
though and it’s after a few moments of awkward fumbling that he realises this gorgeous
creature isn’t here for him, he’s here on behalf of a friend.
Minho feels a tug, stronger than he’d ever felt towards Seungmin. An attraction so violent it
makes his head spin. At first sight, Chan is everything Minho didn’t even realise he was weak
to. From his uncertain giggle to the way he shuffles his feet when he’s nervous. The son of
the Prime Minister, especially one who turns up on so many interviews, shouldn’t be this
nervous but he is and it’s wholly endearing.
He manages to get one date out of him and it’s the best night Minho’s had since he arrived in
Busan. Probably the best night he’s ever had. Chan is warm, he’s comforting, he’s funny and
he’s so hot Minho struggles to focus the entire night.
And he’s not used to that. He’s used to control. Has been ever since the Honeypot. He’s the
one who spins people to his will. He’s the one who dances and grinds just enough that they’re
putty in his hands and offering him all the money in their wallets. It’s the same with Cats
Cradle. Even with Seungmin, he was in control and he had to be - to keep his lies, he needed
control.
Chan is dangerously close to making him lose his precious control.

He can’t help himself. He gets Chan to come back with him and he’s not blind, he knows
Chan is attracted too. The steady blush of pink on his cheeks, the way his breath hitches
when Minho touches him. He could be putty in his hands if there wasn’t the promise that
Chan could just as easily turn the tables on him.
It’s strange. It’s like Chan isn’t like the others. He can’t be controlled. But at the same time,
he’s not willing to take the lead either. Maybe it’s because of his loyalty to his friend or
maybe it’s just his nature but it feels like he’s on the same footing as Minho. The exact same
level in both mind and spirit.
He kisses Minho so hard that Minho loses his breath. He holds Minho on his lap and Minho
grinds down on him like it’s the last fuck he’ll ever have in his life. It feels like it. There’s a
tragic finality to it he can sense without Chan having to explain why.
He can’t hold him close enough, he can’t kiss him long enough. Minho clings and he never
clings but he does now. When he’s underneath Chan, watching his face, holding him and
feeling his comforting weight on top of him, Minho thinks there’s nowhere else he’d ever
rather be.
For the first time ever, he feels safe. He feels like he could love Chan so easily. It would be
so, so easy to fall in love with him and that’s both terrifying and exciting.
Afterwards, when Chan falls asleep, Minho curls into his side and wraps his arms around
him. He presses kisses to Chan’s neck until the older rolls over and snuggles into him with
both arms casing Minho into his chest. Into his heat.
He wakes up again before the crack of dawn and the first thing he sees is Chan’s face. The
room is quiet, save for their breathing and the purr of his cat in the corner of the room. Minho
lifts his hand, fingertips tracing the bridge of Chan’s nose, along his cheek and jawline.
Chan’s eyebrows twitch, a small sleepy groan escapes his lips and Minho feels his heart
warm with affection.
“Chris,” he whispers, leaning in to peck his lips ever so softly. Chan’s arm around his waist
tightens just a little and Minho giggles. Giddy and still a little sleepy but so, so satisfied.
They hadn’t even bothered getting dressed last night and they still lie there on Minho’s tiny,
tiny bed. Naked as the day they were born.
Minho leans in closer, he brushes his lips along Chan’s, presses tiny pecks along his cheek
and his hand perches on his chest. Chan is quite nicely built. Minho likes the firm chest
beneath his hand, the steady beat of his heart beneath. He slowly slides his hand down,
feeling every inch of skin, every bump of muscle.
Chan cracks an eye open and it’s like he knows what’s going through Minho’s mind. Minho
had made a promise after all, he would meet Jisung and who knows, maybe Chan’s right.
Maybe Jisung is a sweetie, maybe he’s everything Chan said and more. Chan never explained
why Minho can’t be with him, he doesn’t have to because Minho already knows.
He’s not dumb. There’s more than one reason why Chan can’t do this more than one night.
His loyalty to his friend aside, he’s a public figure. He’s the son of the prime minister and
Minho wouldn’t be surprised if a betrothal is already being set up for him. That’s how it
works in his world and Minho gets it.
Doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Leaning in, Minho takes his lips and Chan’s grip on him never falters. His hand is so warm
on the small of Minho’s back as he rolls onto his back and takes Minho with him.
In the earliest hours of the morning, Chan’s so gentle. He doesn’t take over, he doesn’t grip
too hard, his kisses are lazy, content and soft. It’s Minho who keeps taking. Minho who rains
kisses down Chan’s neck, down his chest, worshipping every inch of skin because he knows
that come the morning light, he won’t be able to.
Chan’s hand in his hair is gentle, even when Minho takes him into his mouth and sucks like
it’ll take away his anxiety. He loves hearing Chan’s hitched breaths, the way he says Minho’s
name and on the bed, their free hands find each other and link like it’s always meant to be.
But it’s not. As much as both of them want to pretend, it’s always knocking on the door.
Reminding them at the backs of their minds that it’s not.
So Minho works out his anxiety until Chan’s all but begging him with shaking legs, gasping
whispers of his name and an arched back. Minho clings, he sucks until his eyes are almost
watering and when Chan finally comes with a shout, Minho watches. Chan’s back is arched
beautifully, head thrown back against the pillows in ecstasy, one hand in Minho’s, the other in
his hair.
Minho swallows, he licks until Chan whimpers from oversensitivity. Then he climbs back up
and he doesn’t expect it but Chan’s hand grips the back of his neck and pulls him in for a
long, searing kiss.
When Minho slept with Seungmin, it could have been called many things. Curious and
almost desperate exploration in their earlier days when they had no idea what they were
doing, angry fucking in the later parts of their relationship. What Minho does with Chan isn’t
fucking, nor is it curious exploration.
It has another name that neither acknowledge but both recognise.
Chan rolls them over until Minho’s underneath him and until the morning light breaks them
out of their secluded haven, Minho holds on tight. He holds his hand in the morning, he holds
on until he can’t anymore.
Then Chan leaves him in the restaurant with Han Jisung and when he walks out of sight,
Minho feels something tiny break.
The first date with Minho is...awkward. Awkward from Jisung’s side because he’s a bumbling
idiot who has no idea how to talk to people he actually likes.
Minho is charming, sweet and coy all at once. The wet dream he’d seen on the stage is quite
naturally toned down when he’s not dancing. Out in public, Minho is a darling. A soft
spoken, funny darling who patiently waits for Jisung’s nerves to calm down before they can
make actual conversation.
After the cafe, they go for a walk and Jisung’s nerves cause him to blab about everything and
anything he can think of. He tells Minho about his friends, about Chan and Changbin and
how they’re like the brothers he never had. They talk about the school he dropped out of and
Minho offers some insight into what school in Seoul had been like.
He’s sweet, he’s really sweet but he’s also very careful about what he says. That’s the first
thing Jisung notices and maybe it’s because it’s the first date and they don’t really know each
other but Minho is really careful about the information he gives.
He talks about school but doesn’t mention which school. He avoids the topic of parents or
family altogether and asks Jisung about his instead. Jisung already knows what he does for a
living but even that Minho offers only a little insight into.
Minho is careful and Jisung is smitten by him.
Through some miracle, he gets a second date and this one is much less awkward. On
Changbin’s advice, Jisung takes Minho to a movie and he had to debate with Chan and
Changbin on the right movie.
“Horror movie,” Changbin advises with a nod. “Scare him onto your dick.”
Chan rolls his eyes. “That’s not going to work on him. Besides, we’re scarier than any horror
movie. Try something lighter, maybe a rom-com?”
Jisung eventually follows Chan’s advice and it’s a blessing because Minho ends up liking the
movie. Given the title, he wasn’t sure but both of them sit at the back of the theatre,
genuinely enjoying when the poor Chinese-American girl follows her boyfriend to Singapore
and ends up genuinely surprised to find he’s one of the richest people there.
“It’s his fault for not telling her,” Minho whispers, popcorn poised in his hand as he watches
the girl heading off for a bachelorette party with a bunch of catty women who don’t actually
like her. “He should have trusted her enough.”
Jisung thinks about all the rich kids he’s ever seen in his school and the sycophants who
almost always surround them. Money is the driving force behind most of what people do and
sometimes it gets ugly.
“I sort of understand him,” he admits as he pushes the popcorn pottle closer to Minho’s side.
They have their own seats of course but both are leaning into each other, elbows on the same
armrest, the popcorn and drink nestled between them and it’s comfortable. It’s intimate and
Minho has a gentle fruity kind of scent that Jisung keeps leaning in to sniff.
Minho grins at him. “Got something to tell me then? Before you launch me on your catty
relatives who think I’m a gold digging bitch?”
Jisung laughs a little too loud and the couple in front of them turn around to look. He mutters
a small apology (whilst Minho is busy trying to stifle his giggles in his sleeve) and turns back
to Minho.
“Yeah, you won’t have to worry about that,” he assures Minho shyly. “My relatives spend
most of their time out of Korea.”
Far away from me is the part he doesn’t say but Minho somehow understands it anyway. He
looks at him, a little surprised for a second and he doesn’t say anything. Then he leans in and
kisses Jisung’s cheek, gentle and soft before he pulls away again.
Jisung’s cheeks flare red, he dips his head shyly and feels Minho taking his hand on the
armrest.
“If it’s of any consolation,” Minho whispers. “I don’t have any plans to leave the country
anytime soon.”
Jisung thinks Minho is too good to be true.
Then Minho leans in and kisses him. Jisung leans in until the popcorn pottle between them is
in danger of being squished between their gently roaming hands and lips that catch between
breaths.
They miss the majority of the movie, neither care.
Despite being absolutely certain he was not going to get over Chan, Jisung surprises Minho.
He’s younger so he doesn’t have that calm, strange sense of maturity (and immaturity when
he chooses it) like Chan but he does have a certain will about him that Minho is surprised to
find he’s attracted to.
They can’t be compared. They’re completely different and Jisung keeps surprising Minho in
the sweetest ways.
They fall, quite naturally, into a semi-relationship where one of them messages the other and
they meet somewhere in Busan to hang out. It’s a blessing in disguise that Minho doesn’t
spend much, if any, time at Jisung’s apartment so he never awkwardly runs into Chan or
Changbin (whom he’s heard plenty about from Jisung). He wouldn’t know what to say, he
didn’t expect to enjoy Jisung’s company this much but he does and in a way he feels like he’s
betraying Chan even though he had Chan’s full blessing.
His emotions betray him.

He likes the way Jisung kisses. Soft, gentle but undoubtedly curious. Jisung’s hands had been
hesitant at first but as the weeks passed and he started getting more comfortable with Minho,
his hands freely roam during their makeout sessions.
Sex, however, is something they haven’t ventured into yet. Mostly because Jisung has never
done it before. Surprisingly, he’s not like Seungmin though. With Seungmin, Minho was well
aware that there had to be a waiting period. Sex was an unknown thing, curious but unknown
and Seungmin needed time to wrap his head around the idea of a blowjob not being a scary
thing.
Jisung, on the other hand, is well informed and when Minho asked him if he’d ever given one
before, he simply laughed. “You can learn almost anything on the internet, hyung,” he’d
commented whilst deliberately moving the lollipop in between his lips, making sure Minho
saw the way his tongue licked over the tip.
Minho had a really hard time thinking properly that day.
There’s nothing hesitant about the way Jisung kisses him, holds him and feels his body. It’s
quite refreshing, it doesn’t feel like he needs to guide this kid into anything, Jisung has
already done the research and he’s quite confident about what he wants.
Minho doesn’t lead. He doesn’t need to. It’s barely two days after the lollipop incident that
they’re hanging out in his tiny apartment with Jisung playing with his cats. That’s a firm
indicator to Minho on whether or not someone’s worth his time and his cats love Jisung.
Then Dori jumps off the bed and Jisung crawls closer until he’s pushed Minho down onto his
back.
“Hannie, what-”
Jisung’s kiss sucks the air right out of his lungs. The look in his eyes, dark with intent, freeze
Minho in place as he becomes acutely aware of Jisung’s hands pulling at his belt.
“Hold still, hyung,” Jisung whispers and when he kisses him again, Minho hangs on as Jisung
proves that he really did learn everything from the internet (as well as popsicles and
lollipops).
It’s just nice, in those first few weeks. The honeymoon stage of the relationship where Minho
can let go of his past and just forget it. Just be a normal person living in Busan trying to make
his way in life and Jisung makes it so easy too.
But all things have an end and Minho puts off telling anyone about the skeletons in his closet
until the day he comes home from work at four in the morning and recognises a familiar car
parked right outside his apartment block.
He freezes. The footpath is empty, it’s too early in the morning for people to be wandering
around. The streets are bare save for the occasional car that drives past but his area always
has been kind of quiet. Minho feels the cold night air push his hair out of his eyes as he
fixates on the car parked outside his building.
It can’t be him. It can’t be. Yet when Minho looks at the license plate, he recognises the
registration numbers and his blood freezes as he realises there’s a dark figure sitting in the
front seat.
Waiting for him.
With shaking hands, he grabs his phone from his pocket and starts to back away. He’s lucky
that he took the shorter route home. The car is parked some way ahead and the driver has his
back to him so it’s unlikely he’s noticed Minho yet. Still, Minho feels his heartbeat picking
up with fear as he skids into an alleyway and calls the first number he thinks of.
Jisung answers on the second ring with a very sleepy: “Hyung?”
“Han,” Minho whispers and his voice breaks, he must sound more terrified than he thinks
because Jisung’s voice is a lot more alert then.
“What’s wrong?”
Minho’s breathing stutters, he peers over the corner of the building but the car is still there.
He sees the figure in the front move and the man is awake. He’s awake and he’s waiting.
Minho almost cries.
“He found me.”
It kind of slips his mind that Jisung has no idea who Minho is talking about. Minho never
mentioned Sungcheol and the one time Jisung asked about his family back in Seoul, Minho
had changed the subject and Jisung never brought it up again. But right now his brain is all
over the place, logical thinking doesn’t occur to him and all he feels is blinding fear that
Sungcheol is going to come out of that car and drag him back to Seoul.
“Where are you?” Jisung asks and Minho can hear him moving.
The figure in the car moves again and Minho almost sobs. All he can think about are
confusing nights, when he smelt alcohol and felt Sungcheol’s hands on his body. Those
suffocating, uncomfortable, wrong moments he should have recognised earlier but didn’t
because they became normal.
“H-his car is right outside my apartment,” Minho whimpers as he ducks back into the alley
and leans against the wall. “Ha-Han, I don’t know what to…”
Oh god he’s hyperventilating. He can’t breathe. He thinks he hears a car door open and he
slaps a hand over his mouth to stop himself screaming. He thinks his brain should be telling
him to run but his feet won’t work.
“Minho?” Jisung calls and at first, Minho doesn’t hear him. He’s too busy trying not to
breathe, trying not to make a sound and alert Sungcheol to his location.
“Baby, where are you?” Jisung’s voice comes in, sharper and firm enough to slap Minho out
of his fear for a moment.
“The…” Minho looks around. “The alleyway...to the left of my apartment, you, you cross the
road and it’s between the..um…” fuck, brain, work. “The building with the flower shop and
the...you know the one?”
“On the left, stay there.” Jisung orders. Minho can hear a door, he can hear Jisung running
and all he can think is that Sungcheol is going to find him first. “Minho,” Jisung continues.
“Talk to me, baby. Where is he now?”
Minho’s hand curls into a fist as he gathers the courage to peer around the corner again. The
shadowy figure is still in the car but he’s moving, he keeps looking at the apartment block
and Minho wonders if he’s been watching for awhile. Did he try to go in earlier and figured
out Minho wasn’t home? Has he been watching and already knew Minho wouldn’t be home
until later? If he can’t find Minho here, is he going to try the Cats Cradle?
“Baby,” Jisung says and it grounds Minho enough to answer.
“St-still in the car…”
“Describe the car to me.”
“A black sedan…”
“License plate?”
Minho starts reading off the numbers but when he gets halfway through, the figure in the car
opens the door and he gasps. He presses himself into the wall, trying to hide but he can’t look
away. He can’t…
Sungcheol’s face comes into view, lit by the streetlight. Minho feels his blood freeze and if
Jisung is trying to talk to him, he can’t hear him. He can’t see anything but Sungcheol as the
man walks to the footpath and stands right outside the apartment block. He just stands there,
staring up at the building and Minho realises he’s trying to find the window belonging to
Minho’s apartment.
“...aby? Baby!” Jisung calls.
Minho doesn’t answer. He can’t. He’s not that close, there’s a whole crossing between them
but he’s terrified that if he makes even one noise, Sungcheol will find him.
He watches as Sungcheol gazes up at the building for a good ten minutes before he turns,
leans on his car and pulls a cigarette pack from his pocket. He sticks one in his mouth, lights
the end and just leans against the car, eyes watching the apartment and when he turns to look
down the road, Minho quickly ducks back into the alleyway.
“Minho!” Jisung is shouting through the phone. “Babe, shit, answer me!”
Minho can feel tears streaking down his cheeks. He’s shaking so hard as he sinks until he’s
sitting on the ground, back against the wall. There’s nowhere to run. If he dares leave this
alley, he’ll be seen. The other end is a dead end. He can either stay here and pray Sungcheol
will just drive away or come out and face him.
He brings up the keypad on his phone and presses a number. The beeping sound gives Jisung
pause. Minho does it again and he hears Jisung take a breath.
“Once for yes, twice for no,” Jisung says. Minho clings to his voice, his comforting voice
grounds him.
“Can he see you?”
Minho presses the number one twice and hears Jisung’s relieved sigh.
“Did he get out of the car?”
One press.
“Is he waiting for you?”
One press.
“Okay. Stay right where you are, baby. I’m almost there,” Jisung promises.
Minho takes a shaky breath and he can’t move. If Sungcheol were to come to this alley and
find him, Minho wouldn’t be able to run. All he can do is sit there, shiver and it feels like
forever but really it’s probably closer to ten minutes before he finally hears a car door again.
He peers over the corner to see Sungcheol got back in his car. The lights turn on and his car
finally pulls away from the curb. Minho watches as he drives away, stops at the lights, turns
and is finally out of sight.
Then Minho drops his phone, curls into a ball and cries.
That’s how Jisung finds him a minute later.
Jisung’s finger flicks the lightswitch, illuminating the small hotel room. Going back to his
apartment wasn’t really an option and going into Minho’s was off the table so they’d agreed
to finding a hotel for the night.
Minho is a mess. A crying, shaking mess in his arms and it’s all Jisung can do not to
completely freak out as he leads him into the room and closes the door securely behind
himself.
The receptionist had blinked when he’d asked for a room with a double bed, not two singles
but as soon as he’d flashed his black card, she’d asked no questions. Minho hasn’t been able
to speak since Jisung found him in that alley.
Jisung leads him to the bed and sits him down. He crouches in front of him and what he sees
is simply tragic. He’s always seen Minho so composed, so in control. It’s one of his most
attractive qualities and damn him if he doesn’t milk it for all its worth. Lee Minho has to be
one of the most attractive people Jisung has ever met, even now when he’s sitting there
shaking, tear tracks on his cheeks, bloodshot eyes and chewed lips, he’s still so devastatingly
beautiful.
At least he’s stopped crying. But instead he’s staring off into space.
Jisung places a cautious hand on Minho’s knee and when Minho jumps, he quickly pulls his
hand away.
“Hyung,” he says, voice gentle and cautious, as though he were approaching a rattlesnake
rather than his boyfriend. “Talk to me.”
It takes a moment but Minho sniffs, his sleeve comes up to rub his face and Jisung has never
seen him do that before. Minho is particular about his clothes, he’ll go and find a tissue, even
toilet paper, before he’ll ever resort to using his sleeve.
“What is there to say?” Minho mumbles quietly. He won’t look at Jisung and instead focuses
on a random spot on the floor. “He drove off.”
Jisung frowns. “Hyung, you need to give me more than that. Who was he?”
Minho just shakes his head and Jisung’s seen it before. That one time he’d asked Minho
about his family, about parents and possible siblings, Minho had changed the subject. He’d
shut it down so quickly that Jisung knew something was there. Something Minho didn’t want
to talk about.
So Jisung tries another tactic.
Gently and ever so slowly, his fingers reach up until they find Minho’s hand. At Minho’s first
flinch, Jisung pulls his fingers back but only an inch. He waits and reaches up again and this
time when their hands meet, Minho’s fingers reach for his.
Jisung links their hands together and holds eye contact. It seems to be enough for Minho. To
keep him steady, keep him in this moment and not off in his memories or thoughts. Jisung,
crouched in front of Minho, lower than him, looking up at him and it’s poignant because
Minho needs control. Jisung knows that better than anyone, Minho needs to feel like he’s in
control of this situation.
It works because Minho seems calmer and for a moment they just stay as they are, holding
hands, watching each other before Minho finally leans down and takes Jisung’s lips.
Jisung moves his free hand into Minho’s hair. His fingers sift gently through his locks until
Minho’s other hand takes his shoulder, gently pulling, silently asking Jisung to stand. When
he does, Minho stands with him and when they pull back from the kiss, both are a little
breathless.
Jisung is hyperaware of how delicate this moment is. He doesn’t know what Minho has been
through or who seems to be stalking him but he does know that he can’t do anything about it
until Minho lets him in. For that to happen, it has to be on Minho’s terms.
It always has to be on Minho’s terms.
Because Minho needs to be in control and Jisung doesn’t mind letting him.
It’s Minho who initiates the second kiss. It’s Minho whose hands reach for Jisung’s clothes
and start pulling them off. Jisung lets him, he touches lightly and only when he knows Minho
allows it. He moves his arms out of his clothes and when Minho’s fingers start undoing his
belt, he holds Minho’s face in his hands and kisses the air from his lungs.
His belt falls to the floor with a dull clatter and Minho’s lips move down Jisung’s jaw, down
his neck. His hands touch and trace along the heated skin of Jisung’s back as he kisses down
his chest, slowly lowering himself to his knees.
Through hooded eyes, Jisung watches him. He’s breathless, he always is when Minho
touches him. He touches Minho’s hair, gentle and almost hesitant fingers grazing over his
locks. Minho’s fingers pull him out of his jeans and underwear and when his mouth finds
Jisung’s cock, Jisung’s eyes flutter as he gently takes Minho’s shoulder.
Minho is relentless. It’s as though he pours all his anxiety out through his mouth because he
works Jisung’s length without mercy. Until Jisung is gasping, knees shaking, hands gripping
Minho’s shoulder and his head, bracing himself for any semblance of sanity. Jisung thinks he
could die right there, Minho’s hands are gripping his waist, holding him in place. His mouth
is a vacuum and every now and then his tongue glides over areas of Jisung’s cock that he
didn’t even realise were extra sensitive until Minho licked them.
Jisung knows he won’t last. He’s shaking too hard and even when he lightly tugs on Minho’s
hair, Minho doesn’t let up. With a shaky yell, Jisung’s body shudders and Minho won’t let
him pull out before he loses it right in his mouth.
Cloudy, foggy haze fills Jisung’s brain. He pants hard and when he finally comes back down
to earth, he looks down in time to see Minho swallow, pull back and lick him clean. The extra
sensation of tongue is almost too much and when Jisung’s knees almost buckle, Minho uses
his grip on Jisung’s waist to twist him around and push him back onto the bed.
Jisung flops. He stares up at the ceiling, still fighting for air as he’s acutely aware he’s lying
naked on top of the duvet cover with his legs still half off the bed. His left foot is still in his
pants.
Minho rises from the floor and Jisung watches as Minho pulls his shirt up and over his head.
He pulls his belt off and his gaze is heated, like he could eat Jisung alive and Jisung would
never fight him off.
Minho strips himself naked and Jisung doesn’t say a word. He just watches, languid and
slightly spent as Minho grabs his bag and digs until he finds a familiar bottle of lube.
“Touch yourself, Hannie,” Minho says. A command, not a request.
Jisung moves his hand down, surprised to find he actually has a semi already. He strokes,
eyes helplessly drawn to Minho’s fingers as they’re covered with lube and disappear behind
himself. Jisung would offer to do it for him but he doesn’t, not when Minho needs to be in
control of this. If Minho wanted him to do it, he’d have asked.
They stare at each other, both preparing themselves and it’s possibly the most intense
moment Jisung’s ever experienced. Him, willing and patient and Minho, heated and a little
desperate. For a moment, there’s nothing to hear but the sound of their breathing and the
unmistakable slippery sound of lube.
Then Minho reaches for his bag again, pulls out a condom, rolls it onto Jisung and that’s
when Jisung lets his hands rest on the bed instead. He watches Minho climb onto him,
position himself and sink with a long, exhaled groan until he’s fully seated.
The heat is incredible. Jisung holds his breath and reaches for Minho’s waist. No amount of
in-depth searching on the internet could have prepared him for this. It’s one thing to read a
million accounts of what sex is like but it’s quite another to feel Minho, to be inside him,
hearing his little whimpers every time either one of them twitch.
Jisung lets out a stuttery breath. He’s dying to move but he doesn’t. Not until Minho’s arms
wrap around his shoulders. Minho pulls him into a kiss and Jisung feels like he could lose his
mind right here and now. He could die happy. His tongue presses against Minho’s and his
arms tighten around Minho’s waist.
Then Minho starts moving and Jisung moans into his mouth.
Minho uses his hands on Jisung’s shoulders to brace himself. He moves himself on his lap, up
and down and grinding until Jisung is all but gasping. Minho holds him close until Jisung’s
face is pressed against his chest, he moves until Jisung can’t take it anymore.
Using his hands on Minho’s waist, Jisung holds him still and before Minho can protest,
Jisung moves his hips up and slams himself so hard into Minho that the other finally sags in
his arms. A broken whimper, Minho gasps and when Jisung does it again, Minho practically
keens. It helps that Jisung still has his feet on the floor, he uses them to brace himself as he
pushes his hips up to meet Minho.
Minho’s lips are pressed against his hair. His whimpers soft and needy in Jisung’s ear and all
Jisung feels is a heady need rushing through them both. He keeps thrusting up, fucking into
Minho until he feels the other finally begin to shake, his breathing becoming erratic and his
whimpers picking up in volume.
Minho kisses him and Jisung keeps thrusting madly until at last he feels Minho shudder in his
arms. Something hot explodes between them and Minho whimpers until at last, he relaxes a
little. Jisung grits his teeth, it only takes two more thrusts before he’s gone with a whimper of
Minho’s name.
Then, with his arms around Minho, he flops backwards again onto the bed and Minho curls
up on top of him, neither have any desire to pull away.
“Sungcheol,” Minho whispers into the darkness.
It’s hours later. The morning has already dawned and they’re lying on clean sheets because
the blankets are soaked.
Minho can hear Jisung’s heartbeat under his ear. He’s curled up against him, both their bodies
spent, Jisung’s arm around his waist. Minho watches the morning sky outside the window as
Jisung stares up at the ceiling. He’s so patient, he just waits and Minho knows what he’s
waiting for.
At first, he hadn’t wanted to tell him anything. Raw from his fright with Sungcheol just
showing up in front of his building, he just wanted to run. But when Jisung had just waited.
Patiently waited and the sex, though amazing, didn’t seem to distract him. It didn’t distract
Minho either and it’s not until he says Sungcheol’s name aloud that he finally feels the
slightest bit of relief.
“His name is Sungcheol,” Minho whispers.
It’s a cloudy morning outside, he can see peeks of blue sky but for the most part, grey clouds
promise a rainy day. Inside the hotel room, it’s warm and he feels safe in Jisung’s arms.
“He raised me,” Minho continues quietly. “He loved my mother but she didn’t love him.
When she died, my grandmother didn’t want me so she gave me to him. A family friend…”
It comes out. It all comes out. How Minho had been raised, how attentive and loving
Sungcheol was. All his gifts, all his affection, all his love and all the times Minho overlooked
things he shouldn’t have. All the times Sungcheol climbed into his bed, or how angry he’d
get whenever anyone would come too close to Minho at school. The time he shouted at
Minho for kissing a boy, the hungry eyes at the back of the Honeypot. The way he’d watch
Minho like a hawk, it all comes out and when he finally finishes, he’s shaking and Jisung is
holding him tighter.
“So he found you,” he says, his voice more a mumble after that long explanation.
Minho hiccups. He nods and Jisung kisses the top of his head.
Jisung holds him close and Minho tucks his face into Jisung’s neck. He feels so secure in
Jisung’s arms, like nothing could take him away. He hasn’t felt this safe since…
“I love you, Minho.”
A tear drops from Minho’s cheek, onto the soft skin of Jisung’s neck and he’s been torn open.
His secrets out there for the world to see. Only it’s not the world, it’s Jisung and Jisung isn’t
calling him an idiot for not seeing earlier that Sungcheol was grooming him. He’s not judging
him, he’s not saying all the things Minho’s been telling himself.
He just says he loves him and Minho cries silently into his neck. He loves Jisung too.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Jisung says, his voice quiet and almost hesitant.
“Something...I’m scared to tell you but you need to know.”
Minho lifts his head and sees an uncharacteristically uncertain expression on Jisung’s face. It
scares him.
“What is it?”
Jisung just looks at him and Minho stares back. He feels like he’s staring into an abyss.
Chan looks uncertain, even a little scared as he opens the freezer door and stands aside.
Minho peers inside and at first glance, it seems like a normal walk-in freezer. Until his eyes
land on the trapdoor and he turns to look at Jisung.
Jisung had told him everything. From his first kill in self defense to the fucked up system of
the rich and protected, to Chan, to Changbin, he’d told him absolutely everything.
If Minho were to say he wasn’t shocked, he’d be lying. He was absolutely floored by what
Jisung had told him, even more so to hear Chan and Changbin were in on it. God’s Menu
seemed, for all intents and purposes, a normal restaurant styled after a Greek Colosseum. Not
a place where people disappeared.
Changbin hovers behind as Jisung leads Minho inside and opens the trap door. He climbs
down first and Minho follows. After him, Chan and Changbin climb down too. There’s a
heavy silence in the air. Almost pregnant with anxiety and nerves.
When Minho reaches the floor, he holds Jisung’s hand and follows as the other flicks on the
lights and reveals the bottom of the freezer. Bodies upon bodies, naked and strung upside
down with meat hooks piercing their ankles. Jisung had told him about it beforehand, he’d
explained in great detail that it would be horrifying to see but it’s quite different to see such a
thing with his own two eyes.
Minho’s gasp is halted when he sees the figure in the seat.

Chan comes to stand next to him. He nods to Sungcheol’s half conscious form and turns to
Minho.
“Wasn’t hard to find him with the license plate,” he explains quietly. “He had plans.”
Minho frowns. “What plans?”
“Searched his car, found some rope, chloroform,” Changbin adds with a small wince. “All the
stuff inside to suggest he planned on taking you by force. Found some paperwork for a house
in Daegu...along with this.”
He pulls a red collar from his pocket and hands it over. Minho feels his stomach lurch
violently as he looks upon the red leather and the golden tag hanging from it with his name
on it. He drops the leash in disgust.
“What you do,” Jisung says, still sounding a little scared. “It’s up to you. I love you and...I
never want this man to lay a finger on you. But if you tell us to let him go and walk away,
we’ll do it.”
It’s a heavy statement. Minho knows that. If he tells them to let Sungcheol go, there’s always
the risk that Sungcheol is going to tell the police. Tell someone, anyone and if an
investigation happens here, Chan, Jisung and Changbin are all fucked. The fact that they’re
even giving him a choice must be putting them all on edge because there’s a chance he can
walk away from all of them.
He’s seen this part in movies. This is the part where the protagonist realises how crazy their
lover is and shuns them. Calls them insane, lets their abuser go and walks off to call
authorities. In movies, that protagonist is the one with all the morals. The one who lives by a
moral code and believes that the justice system will rightly punish those who’ve done wrong.
But this isn’t a movie and Sungcheol might get a slap on the wrist at most if he’s caught.
Even with all this evidence, Sungcheol will walk free.
And Jisung...Minho’s heart wrenches to think of what will become of him. And of Chan.
Sungcheol groans and all four in the room look at him.
Minho’s heart made a decision before he even came down here.
He lets go of Jisung’s hand, storms over to the chair and grabs the knife lying on the table.
Without hesitation, he drives the knife into Sungcheol’s neck and hears the gasp of surprise.
Sungcheol’s eyes look up, find him and in those eyes he can see shock, recognition, longing
and possessive lust all at once.
He wrenches the blade out and stabs again. And again, and again, and again. Every stab he
feels hands where they shouldn’t be, putrid alcoholic breath, possessive eyes and this
constant, painful anxiety that something has just been wrong his whole life.
He doesn’t even realise he’s still stabbing until he feels a hand on his own. He looks up to see
Jisung taking the knife away from him and placing it on the table. Then he pulls Minho into a
hug and Minho clings to him. His fingers grip Jisung’s shirt and his hair, he can’t hold him
tight enough and his heart beats so fucking loud he can hear it loud in this freezer.
“I love you,” Minho whispers into Jisung’s ear, breathless and scared but he feels so, so safe
now.
He feels Jisung’s smile against his neck and holds on tight.
“I love you too.”
Minho tries not to focus on the buzz of the tattoo machine and instead focuses on Jisung.
He’s lying on the bench provided, his shirt lifted to show his left side where the stencil marks
a tiny quokka right above his heart. It’s adorable and Minho had spent hours and hours
making little changes until the design hit just right but nothing could have prepared him for
the needles.
Sitting next to him, Jisung is holding his hand and watching as the tattoo artist on the other
side steadies the needle above Minho’s skin.
“Aaagh, fuck,” Minho groans at the first prick. “Why did I agree to this?”
“Because it’s cute and because I have a rabbit on my chest,” Jisung answers and he’s trying to
be supportive but Minho can still see his lips quirking as he tries to keep in his laughter.
“It’s okay,” Jisung says, trying to cough away impending laughter. “It’s okay, it’s almost
done.”
Something stings like a bitch and Minho winces. “No it’s not, you fucking liar, we’re only on
the fine line needle.”
Jisung chuckles and he kisses Minho’s hand. The way his eyes soften really throws off any
anger Minho might have been feeling. It’s hard to stay angry at Jisung when he looks at him
like that.
“I love you madly,” Jisung tells him, leaning over to kiss him as the tattoo artist works.
“Love you too, you fucking sadist,” Minho mutters, wincing when the fine needle works its
way around the design.
Jisung just giggles and sits back down, kissing Minho’s hand and watching the artist work.
Minho stays still and the longer he watches Jisung’s face, the less he feels the needle. Instead
all he feels is warmth.
For Han Jisung, he’ll do anything and he’ll never look back.
Chapter End Notes
Thank you all for helping this fic hit 10k hits! I can't believe so many people like this
one!
As I write this, my left arm is aching because I got a tattoo so you can thank my crappy
pain tolerance for keeping me up to post this XD
I really enjoyed writing this one, it's probably (in my opinion) one of my best simply
because it almost wrote itself.
I love all your comments and messages (and memes) and I'm really, really thankful you
guys are here. May we continue with the main plotline in the next chapter!
XVI: Amacus Usque Ad Aras
Chapter Notes
Things to watch out for in this chapter:
- Jung Wooyoung and Choi San (no they're not tags because I don't actually want Atinys
coming exclusively for Woosan) this has nothing to do with ATEEZ and everything to
do with the fact that two people who actually exist hits this story harder than OC
characters. I wanted two familiar faces to play these roles, it was a creative decision in
the end. :)
- Hwang Hyunjin being a needy, angry, murderous, sick bastard.
Pay attention to the tags and I hope you enjoy :)

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Hyunjin is annoyed.
It’s been a constant state for him for the last week. At first it was because he and Jeongin
were having a fight because Jeongin had a jealous hissy fit over Felix and now it’s because
Jeongin isn’t here.
It’s not that he misses him.
No.
Hyunjin doesn’t miss anyone. Not even someone he’s claimed as his own.
It’s the little inconveniences that piss him off. When he wakes in the morning to a cold bed,
when he rolls over and his hand hits the bare mattress rather than Jeongin’s hair. When
breakfast is silent instead of Jeongin talking his ear off about whatever dream he had. When
he’s working and glances in the kitchen and Jeongin isn’t there. When he goes to bed and the
scent of Jeongin’s shampoo and the soft feel of his hair isn’t pressed against Hyunjin’s nose.
It’s those tiny little annoying inconveniences that stack up and make for a pretty shitty day.
To add salt to the wound, Jeongin hasn’t even called him in the last two days which is enough
to piss Hyunjin off. Who does the little puppy think he is? Ignoring Hyunjin like that.
Especially after they’d made up in the freezer, now it was like they were back to zero.
Of course he didn’t completely blame Jeongin. Make no mistake, Jeongin was going to get
the punishment of a lifetime when he finally came home but Hyunjin had no problem
blaming Chan for this as well.
If he’d just kept his fucking mouth shut about Jeongin’s mother, Jeongin wouldn’t have left.
That’s another thing that pisses him off.
The mother.
He doesn’t understand why Jeongin cares - especially because Jeongin was the one who
poisoned her in the first place. Putting aside the fact that Jeongin had completely fucked up
his one and only job and poisoned his mother instead of Moon Jaeyoung, Hyunjin just
doesn’t understand why Jeongin cares now that she’s dying.
Shock. Shudder. Gasp. The poison with no cure that was meant to kill someone is actually
killing someone and Jeongin is...what? Surprised? Remorseful?
If that bitch was Hyunjin’s mother, he’d have felt nothing about killing her. As it is, he still
feels nothing from killing his father. In that moment, it was kill or be killed and Hyunjin had
never felt anything other than hate for the homophobic, abusive asshole.
But Jeongin’s mother, Hyunjin is quite sure, would have killed him if she hadn’t sent him off
to the asylum first. He has no doubt at all that the animal killings and all of that shit is related
to the fact that Jeongin had no choice in life. He had no control. Plus there might have always
been a little part of him that was fucked up anyway but it probably wouldn’t have manifested
had he had parents who actually did their jobs and looked after him.
Then again, who in God’s Menu can say they had parents who actually did what parents are
supposed to do?
Aside from Seungmin, that is, and now look at him. He’s lonely, he’s angry, he has serious
mommy issues and he’s taking it out on Hyunjin because he can’t take it out on Minho.
So why does Jeongin feel remorse? Why is he sorry he poisoned her? Would he take it back
if he could? Would he let her live after all she’d done to him? Hyunjin is pretty sure that if
Jeongin could let her live, Hyunjin wouldn’t be able to. He’d have to kill her for what she’d
done.
Hyunjin isn’t used to not understanding Jeongin. Most of the time, he’s pretty easy to read. It
helps that he’s expressive and wears his heart on his sleeve but even when he’s doing things
and doesn’t understand why, Hyunjin does. But these things...these times when he’s feeling
an emotion Hyunjin can’t empathise with, it pisses him off because this is a part of Jeongin
that Hyunjin can’t reach. Can’t own. Jeongin with his empathy, his feelings, his remorse over
a woman who doesn’t deserve it.
On the third day, Hyunjin wakes to the sound of his phone clattering on the bedside table. He
groans and rolls into Jeongin’s side of the bed. The faintest lingering scent of his shampoo is
only a slight relief as Hyunjin’s arm reaches out until he’s found the phone.
He drags it under the blankets with him, answers the call and pulls the blankets over his head.
“The fuck do you want?”
“Do you always answer the phone like that?” Changbin asks, sounding a little amused.
Hyunjin cracks an eye open to check the time. “It’s 5:30 in the morning, asshole,” he replies.
“What do you want?”
“We need to deal with the Moon Jaeyoung situation,” Changbin says. “Sooner rather than
later. It’s...unfortunate that Innie didn’t poison him when he had the chance because that was
our only chance to get him alone.”
Hyunjin rubs at his face and rolls onto his back. Moon Jaeyoung is not an easy man to get
hold of, it’s true. The leader of a kkangpae that has been dominating the Busan underground
for three generations now, Moon Jaeyoung is the silent force to be feared. He has a legion of
people loyal to him, he runs several establishments throughout Korea and even abroad. He is
the beating heart of the underground and Wolgang Pa is not a group to be fucked with.
He has connections everywhere, both business and political. He’s a strong contender to be the
next president because of how many older connections he has. He’s certainly got a greater
claim than Chan’s father and the thing is, the fact that he’s a kkangpae leader is not actually
common knowledge. Most of the general public have no idea that he’s the ringleader of
several sex trafficking, child slave groups and disappearances throughout the country.
He hides better than Chan’s father ever did. Hence the need to poison him.
Of all the people Jeongin could have missed, it had to be him.
“I have an idea,” Changbin continues. “Moon Jaeyoung is untouchable but we might be able
to get at him from a lower rung.”
It takes Hyunjin all of one second to connect the dots.
“Jung Wooyoung.”
“Bingo.”
It’s kind of obvious to Hyunjin but if there was ever a way to get to Moon Jaeyoung, it would
be through Wooyoung. He has three children. The eldest, Moon Jaesung, is in his late 30’s
and is the spitting image of his father but ten times more ruthless. The second, a daughter in
her early 30’s, Moon Jiyoung is even worse than her brother. In business, she’s known as the
ice queen.
But the youngest, Jung Wooyoung, is the son of one of his mistresses and therefore
illegitimate. No one takes him seriously. He is called the son of the whore and treated as
such.
The only thing that stops him being ignored completely is Jaeyoung himself. Jaeyoung who
dotes on him most but never considered him an heir. Just a son he could spoil without having
to worry about him going too soft to take over Wolgang Pa.
His other children were not so lucky and because there’s at least a ten year age gap between
them and Wooyoung, they resent him for the attention he got.
Hyunjin had never met him but he didn’t need to. Even from a distance he could deduce that
Wooyoung’s position in life would last as long as his father breathed air. The second his
father died, Jaesung and Jiyoung would kill him - if the other members of Wolgang Pa didn’t
get to him first.
“Tensions within Wolgang Pa are heating up. Now that Moon Jaeyoung is getting older, his
followers are starting to side with his two eldest children, both of whom would be bad news
for us considering they’re strict on Busan territory.”
“But you’re thinking we could use Wooyoung if his two older kids were out of the way,”
Hyunjin surmises and even he has to admit, Changbin has a point.
With Wolgang Pa ruling over Busan, it’s easy for Gods Menu to get away with most of what
they do but Moon Jaeyoung has his sights on becoming the next president which means that
if he already knows about Gods’ Menu, he can take them down to raise his own image. That,
and he’s a threat to Chan’s father.
“Why the hell were we trying to poison him when we know his kids would be worse than
him?” Hyunjin frowns.
“Chan surmised that if he started getting sick, his kids would start making mistakes. It would
cause a ruckus within the pa because there are supporters who want Jaesung and supporters
who want Jiyoung. In the chaos, killing both of them should have been easy. But now that it’s
off the table, we have to try and get all three at once.”
“For that, we use Wooyoung,” Hyunjin nods and takes a deep breath. “I hope you’ve got a
plan.”
“Chan does. Because of the infighting, Moon Jaeyoung is struggling to keep his pa together.
He’s distracted. There are a lot of people in the pa who want Wooyoung as the heir because
he’s easier to manipulate. It works for us if he’s manipulated by us, not them.”
“In other words, you want to take out Moon Jaeyoung, Jaesung and Jiyoung and install the
bastard instead,” Hyunjin rubs at his eyebrows. “And in the process, take out any lingering
supporters for them.”
“A fitting job for you and Han,” Changbin says, a little proudly. “Especially you, you’re just
crazy enough to do it.”
“Fuck yes I am, I’m bored, give me something to do,” Hyunjin almost whines. He’s still
annoyed, breaking something with his bare hands might actually do him some good.
“Good,” Changbin sighs. “And by the way, the next time you and Innie fuck in the freezer
and leave cum and blood on the floor, I’m making you clean it with your tongue. Consider
this early morning wakeup call my subtle payback.”
Hyunjin hangs up on him and throws his phone away. He curls under the blankets and turns
to bury his nose in Jeongin’s pillow.
Changbin can go get fucked but this...this might be interesting.
Taking down the leader of the kkangpae? Hyunjin’s heard of stupider ways to die.
Some people were born in the right families. Some people were born exactly where they were
always meant to be.
Jung Wooyoung was not one of those people.
The protected youngest son of Wolgang Pa lived in the penthouse floor of the Gichang
Apartment Suite Building. A rotation of guards stood at the door day in, day out but the real
guard lived in the penthouse suite with him.
The real guard was currently filling a bucket of ice water and questioning his life choices.
“Welcome back to my channel,” Wooyoung says, his pretty face in full view of the camera as
he stands in his pyjamas and flashes a smile. He has a blonde streak on the left side of his
long bangs, black hair silky and clean. Not at all the image one might have of the son of a
mobster.
Choi San shakes his head. When Wooyoung had woken up and suggested they do this, he’d
tried to talk him out of it. Honestly he did. Wooyoung is infamous for his stupid ideas and
this one is not only stupid, it’s also done. The ALS Bucket Challenge ended years ago but
Wooyoung has still woken up insisting on doing it.
“I’m going to make a huge donation to the cause,” Wooyoung promises as San checks over
the ice in the bucket. “If any of you follow me and make a donation, just remember that
you’re saving someone’s life and you should be proud of yourself for being a decent human
being.”
San has to stop himself from snorting. Decent human being. Said the youngest son of the
most dangerous monster in South Korea.
Being Jung Wooyoung’s personal bodyguard isn’t just a job to San, it’s a lifestyle. San had
grown up with him after all, he was the only person in the world who knew how Wooyung
ticked and how to deal with his whimsical ways. Wooyoung had a tendency to go with
whims, to follow trends and do whatever the fuck he wanted and it was San who learnt, very
early on, that he was going to have to protect him.
So he worked out, he took self defence and fighting lessons, he learnt how to handle guns, he
learnt how to drive. All because he knew that if someone didn’t watch out for Wooyoung, his
own siblings would do the world a favour and kill him before his twentieth birthday.
It’s just as well Moon Jaeyoung does love his youngest son. He’d be dead now if he didn’t.
But because Wooyoung has never been considered an heir, he’s basically just a child with
daddy’s money. He has the freedom to do as he pleases...so long as daddy lives.
And San...well when he stepped forward to be Wooyoung’s personal guard, he didn’t imagine
pouring a bucket of ice on his head one day but it’s not the strangest thing he’s ever had to do
to keep Wooyoung happy. Thanks to those goddamned Youtube and Twitch accounts he has,
he does a lot of weird shit for his followers.
San’s main job is just to make sure he doesn’t get himself killed in the process.
“Okay, San you ready?” Wooyoung asks as he heads to the corner of his enormous shower
cubicle. Still in full view of the camera of course.
San picks the bucket up and dutifully walks to his side. Wooyoung crouches to make the job
easier and San winces.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks. “You could just make the donation without having to
freeze yourself.”
“Nope, this is about dedication to the cause,” Wooyoung insists with a pout that shoots San
right in the heart. Damn him. “And entertainment for my viewers who will hopefully follow
in my footsteps and donate to something good.”
Said the youngest son of the kkangpae. San has to shake his head.
But the camera is rolling and Wooyoung’s probably going to edit this part out later anyway.
Wooyoung looks up at him, dark eyes mixed with a pout and San can’t resist. He’s never
been able to. Saying no to Wooyoung, especially when he looks like that, is not one of San’s
strong points.
“Fine,” he sighs and adjusts the bucket in his arms. “Countdown from five.”
“Five, four, three…” Wooyoung counts, curling up into a little ball in anticipation for the
water.
San douses him before he gets to two and Wooyoung shrieks. The water, ice and all hits him
in the head, down his shoulders, drenching him and San jumps when the ice cold water hits
his toes.
Wooyoung stands, shaking but happy. His big smile turns to the camera and he just barely
manages a thumbs up.
“Thank you!” he says. “Be sure to like, subscribe and donate!”
San puts the bucket down with a tired sigh. He turns to Wooyoung and he can’t resist, he
opens his arms.
“Come here.”
Wooyoung immediately latches onto him and he is fucking freezing. He’s shivering so hard
but he’s still giggling as he clings to San and drenches him too. Wooyoung is probably going
to edit this part out later too.
“I love you,” Wooyoung stutters through chattering teeth.
San can’t help himself. He never can when it comes to Wooyoung. He presses a small kiss to
the freezing patch of skin he finds between Wooyoung’s shoulder and neck. He feels the
other shiver and holds him tighter. If he were wearing a jacket, he’d have engulfed the other
in it already.
It’s at that moment that both their phones go off.

Wooyoung is still shivering as San pulls away from him and heads to the bench to pick them
up. He hands Wooyoung’s phone to him and answers his own.
“Choi San.”
“Nice to finally get hold of you, Mr Choi. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
San frowns. He doesn’t recognise the voice and when he checks the screen, the number is
unknown. He puts the phone back to his ear and turns the camera off before slipping out of
the bathroom to take the call in private.
“Who is this?”
“We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet,” the voice answers. “My name is Bang Chan.”
San stops in his tracks. He hasn’t met Chan yet but he knows the name, he knows the face
too. It’s been all over the newspapers recently for an engagement and it’s San’s job to know
about potential threats to Wooyoung. Chan is one of them.
The son of the power hungry man set to be the next president - assuming Moon Jaeyoung
doesn’t just find some way to get rid of him first.
San leans against the wall and hums. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m sure I don’t have to explain the situation happening within Wolgang Pa and my father
right now. Not to mention Moon Jaeyoung, as the guard of Wooyoung, I’m sure you’re
already well informed so allow me to skip to the point: I can help you.”
San snorts. “Help me? Why would I need help?”
“You may not but your boy definitely does,” Chan chirps, a little too happily for San’s liking.
“You know about the infighting and you know that the second daddy dearest dies, your boy’s
head is going to be the first one on the block.”
San stares ahead at the penthouse apartment. He has thought about this before, he’s thought
about it for years. Over and over it plays in his mind, how precarious Wooyoung’s position is.
If it were up to him, he’d have taken Wooyoung out of the country years ago. He’d have
hidden him under a different name, changed his appearance, hidden him from Wolgang Pa,
from both his siblings and even from his father but Moon Jaeyoung won’t allow it.
He just dotes on his youngest, he doesn’t even care that the second he dies, Wooyoung will
be history.
“What are you proposing?” he asks, voice a little shaky as he hears the water go off in the
bathroom. Wooyoung must be warming himself up.
“You know damn well Wooyoung won’t survive if daddy dies and you know daddy also
won’t let him leave,” Chan reminds him. “The only way he’s going to make it through this is
if he has help. Lots of help. Both outside and in, there are members of Wolgang Pa who
would prefer him on the throne and there are people on the outside - like me - who would like
to see him there too.”
San closes his eyes. “Wooyoung wouldn’t want that.”
“It’s the only way he’ll survive and you know it,” Chan says, wrenching him back into
reality. “What he wants is irrelevant, he’ll survive. He’ll be alive. Isn’t that what you want?”
More than anyone knows, it’s the only thing San wants.
“You’re proposing you help install him as the new head of Wolgang Pa,” San summarises
quietly. “Do you even realise you’re talking about the deaths of three of the most powerful
people in Busan? If they even heard this conversation-”
“But they won’t because you have a vested interest in keeping Wooyoung alive and you
know as well as I do that this is the only way that is going to happen,” Chan cuts in, he still
sounds far too happy to be trusted.
San hears Wooyoung humming and he feels something ache in his chest. He’ll do anything…
“What’s in it for you?” he asks, still too wary to take anything this guy says seriously.
“You’re not dumb enough to buy me telling you I’d much prefer Jung Wooyoung on the
throne of Wolgang Pa because that’ll make things in Busan easier so I’ll tell you the truth:
even with your boy on the throne, people will try killing him. I want to help, I want my hand
on the throne too. Together, we could do a lot.”
The son of the future president of Korea, San thinks it over and nods slowly. “What do you
want me to do?”
“Meet with two people I’ll send to you,” Chan says. “I’m not available to meet you in person
just yet, San, but they’ll help you. Just be ready when they need you to be.”
San’s always ready, that’s half the reason why Wooyoung is still alive.
“Names?”
“Han Jisung and Hwang Hyunjin. I’ll send you the location later. It was nice talking to you,
San.”
San can feel anxiety piercing his chest, is this really going to happen? He knows it has to, if
they wait for Jaeyoung to die, Wooyoung will follow within mere hours. He can’t take that
chance no matter how much Wooyoung actually loves his father.
“Nice talking to you too, Mr Bang.”
“Call me Chan. I’ll see you soon.”

He hangs up and takes a deep breath. His head is spinning a little and his feet are still
freezing from the ice challenge but it’s the farthest thing from his mind right now.
Is it even possible to do what Chan proposed? San isn’t sure but he knows too well that if he
does nothing, Wooyoung is as good as dead.
The bathroom door opens and San looks up to see Wooyoung, naked Wooyoung, leaning
against the door with that same pout San can’t resist.
“Come warm up,” he says, almost a whine. He holds out his hand. “The shower’s nice and
hot.”
Lord help him, San is a weak, weak man.
“You’re allowed to miss him, you know.”
Hyunjin looks up from where he’s lingering at the kitchen window and meets Felix’s eyes.
He frowns and pushes away from the window to grab the dishes Seungmin has placed there
for the customers.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says as he leaves to deliver the dishes to table
three. There’s a teenage girl there who won’t stop blushing furiously every time Hyunjin
comes near her table. Her boyfriend openly hates him and Hyunjin couldn’t care less.
They’re the ones eating someone’s ass muscles anyway.
He comes back to the kitchen window and groans when he sees Felix there waiting for him.
“You miss Innie,” Felix says. “Admit it.”
“Don’t you have a job to do?” Hyunjin shoots back with a raised eyebrow. “If Minho sees
you’re slacking off, I’m not saving you from him.”
Felix pouts and it would work on anyone but Hyunjin. Hyunjin who has somehow always
been immune to Felix and his pouts.
Now Jeongin on the other hand…
Hyunjin shakes the intrusive thought out of his head and grabs the next plates before
Seungmin can set them down.
“Table five,” Seungmin says and Hyunjin is all too happy to saunter off.
The older couple at table five are busy arguing about their marriage. She wants to try new
things in the bedroom, he doesn’t understand why they have to have sex at all. Hyunjin
comes back and glares when he sees Felix still standing there. For fucks sake.
“I don’t miss Innie,” he announces as he comes to the window. “Fuck off, Felix.”
“You keep looking in the kitchen and glaring when you see he’s not there. You’ve been in a
shitty mood ever since he left for Seoul with Chan,” Felix points out persistently. “Admit it,
you miss him.”
“The only thing I’m going to admit is that I dream of the day I can break your arm,” Hyunjin
retorts coolly. “Mind your own business.”
“You don’t scare me,” Felix shoots back and it’s wholly annoying to Hyunjin because it’s the
truth.
He scares a lot of people but not Felix. Just as he’s immune to Felix’s pouting and pleading,
Felix is immune to him whenever he’s being intimidating. Partly because they both know that
Hyunjin isn’t dumb enough to lay a finger on Felix when Chan and Changbin are the
consequences.
“I get that you’re scary, but you don’t have to be emotionally constipated on top of that,”
Felix continues, completely undeterred by Hyunjin’s glare. “It’s clear Innie loves you, why
don’t you admit that you miss him and that’s why you’ve been such an asshole for the last
few days?”
Hyunjin turns to face him properly. “Well if we’re going to be telling the truth, why don’t you
just admit that you’re thirsty and want Changbin to pin you down to the kitchen bench and
fuck you until you can’t walk again?”
Felix is the only person Hyunjin has ever known who has the ability to blush a bright scarlet
the way he does. It reaches all the way to his ears.
“I…”
“Exactly,” Hyunjin snaps. “Shut up and leave it alone.”
It’s at that moment that the back door opens and Jisung appears. Felix quickly heads back to
his bench as Jisung walks up to the window and nods to Hyunjin.
“Ready to go?”
Hyunjin nods and when Minho looks up and waves them off, Hyunjin follows Jisung through
the kitchen and out the back door. He feels Felix’s eyes on the back of his head the whole
way out.
Hyunjin’s never been very good at planning things out. His father had been done completely
on impulse, Jeongin was impulse, almost everything he does is a result of how he’s feeling at
the time.
Seungmin thinks. In Hyunjin’s opinion, he thinks too much. That’s why he’s salty about
everything, especially the fact that Hyunjin isn’t as miserable as him. Felix thinks too much
as well, that’s what gives him the balls to go and stick his nose in everyone else’s business
the way he does.
Jeongin….Jeongin is a thinker too. But not like them. Hyunjin has noticed that Jeongin’s
anxiety hits its peak when he’s overthinking and when that happens, he shuts down. His
mind, as though protecting him, shuts down completely and he becomes a zombie.
In zombie state, Jeongin is just like Hyunjin. He’s reactive, he does things on impulse.
Burying Woojin alive had been an impulse reaction and there had been no thought behind it.
Jeongin was already long gone by then.
Changbin and Jisung, unfortunately, are all about the planning which is what makes this
meeting with Choi San so fucking boring. Hyunjin nurses a latte he hasn’t touched since
Jisung ordered it from him and he’s only really half listening to the plan. He assumes
correctly that it has a lot to do with arranging a coup from inside Wolgang Pa and using the
inside information they have to strike at the three biggest threats at the opportune moment.
Boring.
The only reason why Hyunjin is even here is because San, like everyone else in Wolgang Pa,
is a jumpy motherfucker and he needs to see his face to even trust him.
“This is a list of the names we know are more loyal to Wooyoung,” Jisung explains as he
passes a note to San. They’d met him alone, they had to. Wooyoung can’t be part of this, he’s
too close to his father and if either of his siblings suspect a coup, they’ll kill him regardless of
what their father says.
San looks over the list and hums. “I’m not surprised. Most of the guys here think Wooyoung
is easy to manipulate and they’re not wrong.”
Jisung nods. “You know as well as we do that Wooyoung is not ready to take over Wolgang
Pa. But if he has the right people behind him, he’ll not only refrain from making stupid
decisions, he’ll also stay alive.”
A wry smile paints San’s pretty face. “The right people. People like Bang Chan, for
instance?”
“He’s better than the greedy fuckers in Wolgang Pa,” Jisung points out. “And once his father
becomes President - which he will - he’ll be in a better position to help Wooyoung. This
partnership will keep him alive and happy.”
Hyunjin scans San’s face and he can see it clear as day. San doesn’t give a shit about what
Wolgang Pa will become in the future, his main and only priority is keeping Jung Wooyoung
alive. If that means that the pa will later be ruled by Chan, he doesn’t care.
“Moon Jaeyoung is set to return to Busan tomorrow night,” San says quietly, as though afraid
someone else in the coffee shop might be listening in.
There’s no chance of that, the shop is so loud and bustling that both Hyunjin and Jisung have
to lean in to hear him properly.
“He’ll be accompanied by his eldest son and his most trusted guard but the driver can be
bought off,” San explains quietly. “The daughter, Jiyoung, is set to meet them at the docks at
exactly 6pm. She’ll be with her guard and her personal assistant. Wooyoung is meant to meet
them all when they accompany Jaeyoung home. There, the Wolgang Pa are set to meet to
discuss future plans for the next quarter.”
Jisung nods. “You’re sure of this?”
“Absolutely,” San assures him. “Every detail is meticulously planned and shared with the
guards of the people involved. The only loose end in this plan is the driver.”
“And the docks,” Hyunjin points out with a dark grin. “An area with no surveillance to catch
Moon Jaeyoung’s return, but also too open an area for any kind of security.”
“The security is their guards,” San corrects him with a pointed glare. “Don’t underestimate
them.”
“Don’t underestimate me,” Hyunjin shoots back, the same sickeningly sweet smile plastered
on his face. He knows what he looks like. He looks absolutely psychotic and the look on
San’s face is enough to send a familiar thrill up his spine.
Oh yes. This is what he’d been missing.
“Tomorrow night it is, I’ll get people on my end,” Jisung promises. “Your job is to keep
Wooyoung out of it. Keep him safe, round up supporters but don’t tell them what’s going on
until after everything’s finished. When the three of them die, everything will come crashing
down and Wooyoung has to be in the right place at the right time.”
“I’ll get him there,” San says, but he still looks a little apprehensive.
Jisung picks up on it fast and leans in. “You can’t go in half-assed on this, San. It’s now or
never. Are you going to protect him or do you still have doubts because if you have doubts,
we might as well wait for Jaeyoung to die and take Wooyoung with him.”
“No, I’m in this,” San says, quick and a little desperate. “I am. I just...this is a huge risk.”
“A huge risk means a huge pay off,” Hyunjin smiles. “Leave the dirty work to me.”
Eight days.
It’s been eight days and that little shit still hasn’t contacted him.
Hyunjin called him last night when he got home. He called him before he went to bed and he
tried calling again in the morning. No answer.
Not even a message.
It’s like he’s walked off the fucking planet and Hyunjin isn’t happy about it.
It’s one thing for Yang Jeongin to be batshit crazy and somehow mourning the mother he
poisoned but it’s quite another for him to ignore Hyunjin like this.
Hyunjin ignores a call from Jisung and taps a new message for Jeongin.
9:47am: Ignore me at your own peril, Innie.
It doesn’t help stave his irritation so he types another one.
9:48am: Answer you little shit.
Jisung tries calling again and he hits decline with a frustrated grunt. He thought they’d
patched things up, they’d settled things in that freezer and indeed, right before Jeongin took
off for Seoul with Chan, he’d been warm to Hyunjin. He’d cuddled into him at night, clung to
him as Hyunjin fucked the living daylights out of him against the wall, in the shower, in the
hallway, on the bed, against the window, everywhere he could think of.
He’d cried, he’d bitten Hyunjin’s shoulder, he’d clung in that way only Jeongin could.
And he had the audacity to leave his scent everywhere before he fucked off to Seoul without
Hyunjin. Now he’s ignoring him and Hyunjin hates not knowing why.
Is he that upset about his mother? Too fucking bad, he’s the one who poisoned her in the first
place. His mother was a monster, why is he sad about her dying?
Jisung’s number turns up again and Hyunjin stabs his finger at the decline button before
sending Jeongin another message.
9:50am: ANSWER ME
He wants to throw his phone in frustration but what if Jeongin answers? What if he calls?
Hyunjin hasn’t been this frustrated in a while. His fingers are itching to break something,
voice dying to scream at someone. He wants to hurt something, he wants control over
something since he can’t control Yang Fucking Jeongin.
Jisung calls again and Hyunjin growls as he finally answers and screams into the phone.
“WHAT?!”
Jisung screams back. “Don’t fucking WHAT me, asshole! We got shit to do tonight!”
Hyunjin groans and paces his room. He’s restless, he can feel this pent up energy and rage
coursing through him with no outlet. Jeongin used to be his outlet. Fucking the life out of
Jeongin, seeing the tears lining his eyes, feeling the other cling to him brought a greater high
than anything else Hyunjin has ever experienced. He’ll be damned if he loses it to someone
like Chan and why the fuck didn’t Jeongin just let him come with him to Seoul? Hyunjin
could have talked Jeongin out of it, he could have woken him up, made him realise how
fucking stupid he is for being sad about his mother.
Stupid, idiotic morons. That’s what they are. Jeongin for being sad, Chan for even catering to
it.
“Give me a neck to break, Han,” he growls into his phone. “Give me something to stab.”
“Hyunjin I need you level tonight,” Jisung snaps. “Don’t fuck this up.”
Hyunjin glares at the wall. “I’m level, I’m clear. I just need to do something, I’m fucking
restless just waiting here.”
There’s a moment of silence and Hyunjin knows why. Changbin, Chan and Jisung are level
headed thinkers most of the time. They’re the ones who plan out things, who figure out how
and what they’re going to do well ahead of time.
Thinkers, the lot of them are thinkers.
But Hyunjin, he’s anything but and it takes them awhile to not only remember that fact but
also try to cater for it. He may be a loose cannon but he’s useful on their side and they all
know it.
“You’re going to replace the driver picking Jaeyoung up from the airport,” Jisung tells him.
“Jaeyoung trusts Wolgang Pa enough that he’s not going to question anything if he sees your
face and doesn’t recognise you. You’ll then have to pick up his son from a nearby hotel
before driving them to the docks. Take them both out and their guards before you get to the
docks, we’ve lined the back of the car with sleeping gas to make this easy on you, just make
sure the window between the back and front is closed so you’re not knocked out too.”
Simple enough. Hyunjin has been told not to underestimate them and their guards but of
course he has just enough of a death wish that he completely ignores the warning.
He wasn’t lying when he’d told San not to underestimate him. Especially now that he’s so
frustrated and itching for a good kill, this is just what he needs.
“I’ll send you the details and Hyunjin?”
“Mm?”
“Don’t go overboard. Just kill them as fast as you can and meet us at the docks. I’ll be there
after taking Jiyoung and her guard out. Once we meet up, San will take things from there to
push Wooyoung up as the head before anyone knows what hit them.”
It’s a plan. Not as solid as their previous plans but Hyunjin couldn’t give a shit about plans.
To him, it just sounds like fun. Like a lovely distraction from this restless frustration that’s
been building over the last week - exacerbated by Jeongin having the audacity to ignore him.
Oh the punishment that will be coming for that boy when he returns…
Hyunjin ends the call and ignores the following message from Jisung. It’s just details of
where he needs to be and what time. What to wear, where to go etc…boring.
He opens up his messages and glares when he sees no new answers. Jeongin hasn’t even read
his previous messages.
10:03am: Every second you ignore me, you make this worse on yourself, Innie.
10:03am: I won’t hold back.
He flicks out of Jeongin’s chatroom and thinks about it for a second before finding a familiar
name in his contacts and shooting a new message.
HJ: What are you doing tonight?
SM: ??
HJ: Come out with me.
Hyunjin pushes the drivers cap over his eyes as he leans against the car. BMW, fully
armoured, bulletproof, smells like fresh leather and coloured a deep, dark grey. Beside him,
Seungmin twitches uncomfortably in his suit and looks around.
They’d been told to wait for Jaeyoung outside of the airport and it really didn’t take that
much convincing to get Seungmin to come with him.
“Why did I say yes to this?” Seungmin mutters as he pulls at his tie.
“Because you’re just as bored as I am,” Hyunjin reminds him with a small smirk. “Come on.
For old times sake, this will be fun.”
“I don’t remember us killing kkangpae when we were kids,” Seungmin hisses as quietly as he
can.
In the distance, Hyunjin spots Moon Jaeyoung, flanked by his guard as they come out of the
airport. He nudges Seungmin who goes to open the doors for them. Both bow as Moon
Jaeyoung and his guard approach. Jaeyoung completely ignores them and jumps into the car
but the guard, a tall man in a black Armani suit, armed, bald and bulky with muscles, eyes
Hyunjin suspiciously.
“What happened to the usual driver?” he asks.
Hyunjin lifts his head and meets his eye head on. “Fucked himself up on heroin, sir,” he
answers without missing a beat. “Turns out he slid a little too much off the top.”
The guard rolls his eyes. “Fucks sake,” he mutters as he climbs into the car. “Told that
fucking prick to take it easy on that shit.”
Once they’re in, Seungmin closes the door and turns to Hyunjin. He looks apprehensive but
Hyunjin is positively buzzing. He loves this moment, the thrill before the kill. It’s like he
stuck his finger in an electrical socket and every single nerve is alight. He can barely stay still
as he and Seungmin climb into the front and he pulls the car out of the parking lot.
Through the window between the front and back, they can hear Jaeyoung on the phone.
Neither pay attention as Hyunjin takes the route towards Jaesung’s hotel. In the passenger
seat, Seungmin appears calm, his eyes forward, hands placid on his lap.
That’s another reason why Hyunjin called for him. No matter how out of place or nervous
Seungmin is, he’s good at pretending he’s not.
Moon Jaesung is waiting outside of the hotel with his guards when Hyunjin pulls the car up.
He too climbs into the car without so much as a glance at the two in the front but it’s his
guards, two of them, that eye Hyunjin and Seungmin up suspiciously.
But then Jaeyoung’s guard leans forward with an annoyed: “Get in.” And that’s the end of
that.
There’s five of them in the back now. Five rats, trapped in a cage and unaware of it. Hyunjin
can barely keep himself from humming as he drives ahead. Beside him, Seungmin casts him
a look but it’s all he does before he turns his eyes forward.
They’re halfway towards the docks when evening rolls slowly to night. The skies darken and
a cold chill takes over the air outside. Hyunjin drives on, his eyes on the road and when they
pass the halfway mark, he casually presses the button to his left. A quiet buzz sounds as the
glass between the front and back seats rises.
“Hey,” Jaeyoung’s guard snaps immediately. “What is this...hey!”
A hand thuds against the glass, ignored by both Seungmin and Hyunjin. Once the glass is
secure between the front and back, Hyunjin moves his hand to the button right beside the
previous one. This one lets out another hiss, slightly louder as the muffled shouts in the back
rise in volume. Someone slams against the glass, harder but not hard enough to break it.
There’s more shouting but after about two minutes of the gas continually hissing in the back,
it suddenly grows quiet. Hyunjin waits another minute, just to be sure before turning it off
and pulling over.
Seungmin blinks and turns around to peer at the back. “They’re all out,” he observes and
turns to Hyunjin. “We just need to shoot them, right?”
Shoot them in the head. Drive them to the docks. It’s a simple plan but...boring.
Way too boring.
Especially to someone like Hyunjin who has been needing a satisfying release for some time
now. Jeongin flashes in his mind and he takes a deep, deep breath.
Jeongin still hasn’t answered him.
“Hyunjin?” Seungmin asks, his voice a little worried. As if he’s picked up that Hyunjin has
other plans.
“Buckle up,” he says as he puts the car in gear again.
“Hyunji-”
“Seungie,” Hyunjin growls and Seungmin stops. He hasn’t heard that nickname in some time.
Hyunjin’s eyes are dark with murderous intent as he turns to look at Seungmin. “Buckle.
Up.”
Seungmin sits back down, he pulls the belt over himself and says no more as Hyunjin pulls
the car back onto the road.
Jisung huffs as he pulls his blade out of Moon Jiyoung’s throat.
The docks are quiet, only the occasional splash of the sea against concrete walls and wooden
barriers. Quiet, dark, no lights and no security cameras. Perfect for meeting kkangpae, also
perfect for murder.
She could have been less cliche. That’s all Jisung is saying.
Her guard, at least, had posed somewhat of a risk. The woman is built like a fucking brick
wall and she’d been alert. On high alert and full-on guard mode the second they stepped onto
the docks.
But of course, being armed and alert is one thing. It’s still not going to save you from one
very well aimed headshot.
“You’re getting good at that,” Jisung comments as he gestures to the hole in the forehead that
downed Jiyoung’s loyal guard. He turns to see Minho examining his gun and smiles. “Have I
told you I think you’re hot when you smell of gunpowder?”
Minho snorts, he puts the gun away and approaches Jisung. He drapes his arms around his
shoulders and leans in. “You think I’m hot even when I stink of sweat and alcohol.”
Jisung can’t help it. He never can when it comes to Minho. The other could be in the worst
state of his life, he could be covered in shit, piss, vomit and rubbish and Jisung will still think
he’s the hottest thing to walk this earth. Because he is.
Ordinarily, he’d have taken Changbin with him on a mission like this but the other is needed
elsewhere. Someone has to stay with San to ensure Wooyoung isn’t killed before he can even
take over Wolgang Pa successfully. It’s not that he doesn’t think Minho can’t do things like
this, he knows the other can, he just feels a little protective when his lover is too close to
danger.
And kkangpae is a little closer than he’d like.
Pulling Minho into a kiss, Jisung takes a moment to move his hands appreciatively over
Minho’s outfit of the night. Leather pants, silk shirt, bulletproof vest and black gloves. Jisung
did suggest cat ears and a tail to complete the ensemble and Minho had just laughed and
smacked him.
He’s going to have to try getting Minho to wear it in bed.
When they pull away, Jisung checks the time on his phone and frowns. He turns his eyes to
the street but there’s nothing there.
“He’s meant to be here by now,” he mutters, tongue clicking in annoyance.
Minho blinks. “Can you call him?”
“Too risky,” Jisung says, his arm still around Minho as he pulls back to look at the street. Still
no car.
“Maybe the plane ran late?” Minho suggests. “Maybe traffic?”
Maybe Hyunjin is a fucking psychopath and he should have just done the dock job instead,
Jisung thinks. Except he could have never approved of Minho getting in that car and doing
that job. Of the two, picking up Jaeyoung and Jaesung is the more dangerous one and for that
reason, Jisung didn’t want to do it. Didn’t want Minho to do it.
He’s regretting that decision now.
Minho kisses his ear. “Let’s wait for him,” he says. “He’s probably just running late.”
They both know the truth, it’s just that Minho is kind enough not to voice it aloud.
-
Moon Jaesung has always believed he had a purpose in life.
One purpose; To succeed his father and overtake Wolgang Pa. To rule on the throne he was
born for.
Raised with only the best, Jaesung was taught at an early age to learn fast and take everything
his father gave him as a lesson.
The daily beatings? A lesson to toughen the fuck up.
Learning to handle a gun when he was three? Mandatory.
Shooting his first man at nine? He should have shot him at six.
Moon Jaeyoung had spent Jaesung’s first twenty years hammering in the hardest lessons of
the kkangpae in the worst of ways. He hammered out any emotional attachment to anything -
including his own mother and sister. He was ruthless and cruel if Jaesung ever cried or did
anything he was displeased with.
His sister didn’t get it much better either. After all, woman or not, she’s the spare. If Jaesung
fails, she has to take over and she can’t be a sissy either. Their father was harsh and merciless
on both of them but it helped them survive the world that is Wolgang Pa.
Then along came Jung Wooyoung. The bastard, the illegitimate and the second he was born,
Jaesung witnessed his father do the impossible: Actually caring for and loving something.
Oh how he hated it. He hated seeing that little shit be praised, loved, doted on. He was never
smacked around, never taught to kill a man, he grew to be exactly what Jaeyoung never
wanted his eldest two to be: A well-protected, lily-livered sissy. With a fucking Youtube
channel where he promotes donating to good fucking causes, where did this kid come from
because it can’t have been from Moon Jaeyoung’s shrivelled up balls.
Still he kept quiet. Kept his head down. All the while knowing that one day, one day his prick
of a father would die and Wolgang Pa would be his.
His first order of business would be killing his sister and that illegitimate bastard Wooyoung
within the first 24 hours. Wooyoung doesn’t deserve air and his sister is a liability. She’s a
risk. She could kill him just the same for the throne and he can’t have that.
He had it all planned out too. He knew just how it was going to happen.
Now though...now he’s tied to a chair in a room he does not recognise. His guards and his
father’s guards are long dead, bleeding out in the corner of the room. His father is
unconscious, tied to another chair and there’s two boys in the room with them. The one called
Seungmin is holding a camera. The blonde (Jaesung remembers Seungmin called him
Hyunjin) is smiling as he realises Jaesung is finally awake.
“Had a good sleep?” Hyunjin asks.
Jaesung tests the cuffs on his wrists but they don’t budge. A glance down shows the ropes
fastened around him. His hands are behind him and they’re tightly bound to both the ropes
and the handcuffs. That and his legs, his legs are bound too.
Not a bad job, all things considered. Jaesung keeps panic far at bay as he looks over Hyunjin.
He’s shat things bigger than this blonde, psychotic wisp.
“Silence,” Hyunjin hums approvingly. “Good, I like silence. Makes it all the more fun when I
get you to scream.”
I’d like to see you try doing something worse than anything I’ve already been through,
asshole, Jaesung thinks as he tests the cuffs again.
Nope. Still won’t budge.
Seungmin shifts uncomfortably from his left foot to his right. He casts a glance at Hyunjin
and Jaesung notices it immediately.
“We’re going to be late,” Seungmin reminds Hyunjin quietly. “Can you just do this and get it
over with? Should have shot them while they were asleep.”
Hyunjin has a knife in his hand. He flicks it around, fingers flipping the handle with
dexterous ease. The same way one would effortlessly flick a pencil around between their
fingers to make it spin. Jaesung watches him flick the blade around three times before he
finally makes a move. But he doesn’t come to Jaesung, he goes straight to the unconscious
Jaeyoung.
Jaesung watches silently as the blonde taps the tip end of the blade against his fathers’
forehead. Jaeyoung twitches but doesn’t wake. Hyunjin does it again and this time receives a
groan.
Then Hyunjin flicks the blade downwards and slams it into Jaeyoung’s right knee. The force
of the stab pierces skin and embeds itself into the kneecap. Jaeyoung gasps, he looks down
and howls with pain. Jaesung stares, he’s never heard his father make that noise before.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Hyunjin grins as he takes the blade and yanks it out with a
sickening crunching sound.
Jaeyoung screams and he’s shaking in his chair, he’s rattling the wood so hard against the
floor but of course none of his bindings come loose.
“Who…” Jaeyoung gasps. He looks around, notices the guards, his son in the other chair and
finally rounds his eyes on Hyunjin and Seungmin. “Who the fuck are you?!”
“Irrelevant,” Hyunjin waves the question off with a flick of his hand. “You don’t need a
name.”
Jaeyoung is so angry his face is turning red. “I swear,” he hisses, still twitching as his leg
shudders from the pain in his knee. “When Wolgang Pa hears about this-”
“They’ll be kissing the ass of your youngest son and begging him not to do the same to
them,” Hyunjin finishes for him. He gestures to the camera. “Who do you think ordered this.”
No. Jaesung thinks. Wooyoung, that little shit couldn’t have ordered this. He’s a sheltered,
protected little shit who wouldn’t order the death of the father who’s protecting him. He
doesn’t have the guts to do something like this.
But Jaeyoung believes Hyunjin, his eyes wide as he stares at the camera and then to the
blonde.
“...what?”
Hyunjin flicks the blade to his other hand and nods. “Wolgang Pa is in his hands now and
what a ride this is gonna be. You spent his whole life spoiling the shit out of him because he
was never meant to take over and now your lifes work is in his hands. How does it feel?”
Jaesung doesn’t grace Hyunjin with the honour of his voice but he thinks it’s a terrible idea.
Wooyoung is going to run the pa right into the ground. It’s his pa, his heirloom.
He starts struggling against the restraints and Hyunjin’s attention turns to him instead.
There’s a grace about the way Hyunjin walks. Silent. Stalking. He barely makes sound as he
approaches Jaesung and smiles at the way Jaesung is trying to rip himself out of his
restraints.
“How about a little scream now?” Hyunjin asks. “Your precious, darling little brother is about
to inherit the pa you’ve spent your entire life suffering for. Doesn’t it sting a bit?”
“Fuck you,” Jaesung hisses, rage coursing through him at the mere thought that Wooyoung
could take over.
“Hyunjin, will you stop playing with your food and finish this already?” Seungmin drawls
from behind the camera. “We’re running out of time.”
“Fine, fine,” Hyunjin sighs as he pulls back and heads to the corner of the room where a
small black bag sits on the floor against the wall. He rifles through it and when he comes
back, there’s a mask over his head and face.
Jaesung looks up to see the large, green face of Shrek staring back at him.
Hyunjin gestures to Seungmin. “And, action.”

“Just get it over with already,” Seungmin growls as he presses the record button.
Jaesung watches as Hyunjin leans in close. His dark eyes peering out from behind the mask,
studying him for a moment before he pulls back again.
“How well were you educated?”
Jaesung huffs. “Better than you ever will be,” he sneers. “I was sent to the finest schools in
Britain. I studied at Harvard, Oxford and Cambridge. What shitstain school did your father
send you to?”
Hyunjin laughs. “The cheapest one he could find.”
He saunters back towards Jaeyoung who by now has stopped screaming but he’s sweating
hard. He’s twitching and his leg is still bleeding. He glares as Hyunjin comes closer and taps
the point of the blade against his forehead again.
“I’d like to test your knowledge of words, Moon Jaesung,” Hyunjin says, almost playful
despite the situation. “Get something wrong, I cut a piece of your father off and feed it to
you.”
Jaesung just glares.
With the grace of a cat, Hyunjin crouches down in front of Jaeyoung’s chair. His blade
teasingly glides down from Jaeyoung’s forehead down to his left eye where it perches just
underneath. The tip resting gently on his cheekbone.
“Avunculicide?”
“The act of killing an uncle,” Jaesung answers.
Hyunjin whistles and moves the blade to Jaeyoung’s right eye. “Geronticide?”
Jaesung frowns and suddenly his mind goes blank. All those hours he spent pouring over
useless English words leaves him in a split second and he hesitates.
“Um…”
“Too late,” Hyunjin sings. With sudden ease, the blade goes from resting against Jaeyoung’s
cheek to stabbing him in the right eye. The squelch of the eyeball being impaled is drowned
out by Jaeyoung’s screaming. The chair rattles as he shakes and shudders. Jaesung thinks he
sees Seungmin wince when Hyunjin yanks the blade out. Eyeball, blood and all.
Hyunjin brings it back to Jaesung and leans over him. “For your information, Geronticide is
the act of leaving an elderly person to die either by neglect, abandonment, suicide or
otherwise, now open up.”
Jaesung stares at him, suddenly wide eyed as he looks at the blade Hyunjin is feeding to him.
He keeps his mouth shut and Hyunjin taps the eyeball against his lips. He can feel the blood
against his bottom lip and he shivers.
“Eat it or I’ll take your eye out next,” Hyunjin warns and his voice is so cold. So firm that
Jaesung opens his mouth.
The eyeball slips in through his lips and falls onto his tongue. Immediately, Jaesung feels his
stomach lurch as Hyunjin takes the blade out and taps Jaesung’s mouth closed.
“Chew.”
Jaesung doesn’t even get one chew in before he coughs it out. The eyeball makes a sickening
noise when it hits the floor. Jaesung gasps and spits, his stomach is dying to throw up
everything he’s eaten today and it’s only through sheer force of will that he’s able to keep it
all in.
Hyunjin growls. “Bad dog,” he scolds as he stomps on the eyeball. It squelches under his
boot and Jaesung wants to vomit. His stomach is churning so painfully.
“You know, my Innie would have eaten that and he’d have thanked me. Because right up
until he flew away to Seoul, he was a good little boy who did what he was told to do,”
Hyunjin rants as he comes back to Jaeyoung and slams a hand on his head to hold him still.
Jaeyoung’s still screaming.
“Just hurry this up,” Seungmin demands from behind the camera. “Finish them!”
Hyunjin points the knife at Jaeyoung’s nose. “Virucide.”
Jaesung works through his nausea and fights for the answer. “The...um...the killing of a
virus.”
“Very good, puppy,” Hyunjin praises as the blade moves down to the throat. “Patricide.”
Jaesung freezes. He knows the answer but it hits him like a bolt of lightning as he stares at his
father. His father who is still screaming with one eye missing and a blade pointed at his
throat: he’s not going to survive this.
Neither of them are.
“Uhh…”
Hyunjin sighs. “Wrong answer.”
The blade goes in and Jaesung watches as blood mists from the open wound onto the Shrek
mask. It’s one thing to be trained to take over Wolgang Pa, to be desensitised at such an early
age to death but it’s quite another to witness the death of his own father. However much he’d
planned for how he was going to kill his siblings when he took over Wolgang, he’d never
planned on killing his own father.
Now he’s seeing it, he feels another emotion. One he thought his father had squished down:
Anguish.
A scream pierces the room and it takes Jaesung a moment to realise it’s his own. A horrified
scream where tears spring to his eyes, his hands fight against his own restraints and he
watches his father gurgle and eventually slump in his chair.
He’s crying. He’s screaming for his father. His dad. He’s shaking in his chair and screaming
and perhaps there’s some part of his logical brain that still chides him for screaming like a
little child but he can’t stop himself.
Then Hyunjin rounds on him and the last thing Jaesung sees is Hyunjin’s mad eyes from
behind the mask. The blade doesn’t go into his throat, it goes into his chest. Jaesung gasps,
he’s barely able to register the pain before the blade is taken out and stabs in again. And
again, and again until finally Hyunjin’s mad eyes are the last thing he sees before black
finally takes over.
Seungmin stands with his camera, watching as Hyunjin hacks Moon Jaesung up like a
madman. He’s dead now, long dead, both father and son and still Hyunjin is stabbing away at
his chest.
“Hyunjin,” he calls as he turns the camera off.
At first Hyunjin doesn’t hear him. He’s still leaning over Jaesung, stabbing away relentlessly.
Every now and then, Hyunjin lets out little grunts of exertion, small little pants but his hand
keeps stabbing.
Seungmin eventually has to put the camera down and stomp forward to grab his elbow.
“Stop!” he demands.
Hyunjin blinks from behind that mask. Seungmin takes it off and underneath, Hyunjin’s
blonde hair is a wispy mess. His face has a bit of blood that got in through the eye holes and
his gaze...it’s like looking at a madman. Seungmin is acutely aware he’s looking at someone
who isn’t sane. Who hasn’t been sane in years.
“Stop, Hyunjin,” he says, tone a little gentler as he reaches for the blade and takes it off
Hyunjin. “We need to get these bodies back into the car.”
Hyunjin blinks and he seems to come back because his look of stunned surprise is replaced
instead with annoyance. The same annoyance he’s had since Jeongin left for Seoul. He steps
back from the bodies and looks over them both. Whatever satisfaction he’d been trying to
find, he hadn’t found it.
Seungmin pulls back and starts untying Jaesung from the chair. He’s going to have to tell
Chan about the cleanup needed in this room. Chan might even blame him a little for letting
Hyunjin get this much out of control but really, what the fuck was Seungmin meant to do
about it? The only person who can stop Hyunjin is Jeongin and he’s not here.
They work quietly and all the while, Seungmin knows Hyunjin is still angry. About what, he
doesn’t want to know but he feels it, the other is murderous.
“Where the FUCK have you been?!” Jisung snaps as soon as the car pulls to a stop and a
bloodsoaked Hyunjin and Seungmin climb out. It’s a good hour past the time they were
supposed to meet. The bodies of Jiyoung and her guard are still laying on the docks, too far
out in the open for Jisung’s liking.
Minho takes one look at both Hyunjin and Seungmin before making his conclusions. “Oh
fuck.”
Hyunjin holds out his arms in faux innocence. “You wanted them dead, they’re more than
dead.”
Jisung glares. “You fucking psychopath, you were supposed to shoot them in the head after
they were knocked out. That’s ALL you were supposed to do!”
“They’re fucking dead, how they die isn’t going to change how Jung Wooyoung takes over
Wolgang Pa!” Hyunjin snaps at him. “Besides, we caught it all on tape. Once anyone sees the
way Moon Jaeyoung and his son were killed, they’ll rally to Wooyoung’s side out of fear
alone. You should be thanking me!”
Jisung splutters but before he can rip Hyunjin a new one, Minho places a hand on his
shoulder and pulls him behind himself. He looks over Hyunjin for a second and turns to
Seungmin.
“Take the bodies of Jiyoung and her guard and put them in the car,” he orders, tone low and
firm. “We’ll dispose of the evidence. Han, call Changbin and tell him to get San moving.”
Behind him, Jisung is still muttering but he does as he’s asked.
Minho then turns his eyes on Hyunjin. “Go home.”
“Go home?!” Jisung snaps. “He almost fucked this mission up-”
“But he didn’t, did he?” Minho answers, cutting them all off. “He didn’t. He’s right, he killed
them and the method doesn’t matter. Once the others see it, he’s right. They’ll support
Wooyoung if they think Hyunjin did this on Wooyoung’s orders.”
Jisung stares at him incredulously. “This isn’t how Chan wanted it.”
“Yeah well, Chan doesn’t get a say in everything,” Minho shrugs. “Deed is done, let’s just get
on with it and finish this.”
Jisung is stunned, so is Seungmin. Minho turns back to Hyunjin and with his voice noticeably
gentler, says: “Hyunjin, go home, take my bike. You did well tonight.”
Hyunjin turns on his heel. He walks away and no one can tell if he’s happy about how things
turned out or if he’s still unquestionably angry, the same way he’s been angry for the last
week now. The three of them watch him leave and when he disappears around the corner,
Minho turns back to Seungmin.
“Bodies, in the car. Han, call Binnie, I’ll call Chan. We’ll deal with Hyunjin later but right
now, let’s finish this.”
Nobody questions Minho. Not Seungmin and especially not Jisung. Without another word,
they get to work disposing the bodies of the last legitimate rulers of Wolgang Pa.
From what Hyunjin can tell, it goes well. Felix runs the group chat, keeping everyone
informed of what’s going on as though it’s a high school drama and not a takeover of one of
the most notorious kkangpae groups in Busan. Hyunjin doesn’t know where he is, he doesn’t
particularly care either but his phone is filled with updates ranging from how San brings
Wooyoung forward to address the remnants of Wolgang to how the remaining members still
loyal to the now dead members are systematically killed by Changbin and San.
He’s angry. He’s still so angry and annoyed and it’s clawing at his bloodstream. Tearing
through him until his hands are shaking. Hurting Moon Jaeyoung and Jaesung had done
absolutely nothing. It hadn’t satisfied him the way it was supposed to and he only has one
person to blame for that.
How the fuck did Yang Jeongin manage to snake his way so securely into his life that he can
be the only pleasure Hyunjin will ever feel satisfaction with? How? Killing people used to
bring him a high, hurting others, maiming bodies until they were unrecognisable.
There’s a thrill. A godlike fucking thrill that comes with the power of robbing someone of
their control, their life. Not everyone feels it but Hyunjin does. He gets off on it, he thrives on
it.
At least he used to until he realised that not having Yang Jeongin is enough to rob him of any
sense of satisfaction he could ever have. It’s enough to annoy him, to grate on every single
nerve in his body until he’s left with nothing but pure, furious anger.
Oh the things he’ll do to Jeongin when he gets back to him. He’s going to tear the little fucker
to pieces, he’s going to feed him his own eyeballs. That little shit has to die for doing this to
Hyunjin, no matter how tight his fucking hole is, he’s not worth this. This vaccuum of
nothing he leaves when he ignores Hyunjin, when he leaves him alone, when he shuts him
out.
Nothing can be worth this. Not his sweet, strangled bird voice, not the way he sings in the
shower in the morning, not the way he holds Hyunjin at night and kisses like he means it.
Nothing is worth this. It’s like Hyunjin can’t function without him and the thought of that
pisses him off.
That little fucker has to die.
He pulls the bike up against the curb and he’s still shaking when he climbs off and heads in.
He’s drenched, the blood cooling against his skin. His teeth are clenched so tightly his jaw
hurts and the hallways are blessedly empty as he heads up to his floor and towards his
apartment.
Just as well. He might have killed a neighbour if any of them had seen him like this.
When he opens the door, he’s not greeted with the same cold darkness he’s been coming
home to for the past week. Instead, the hallway light is on and Jeongin’s shoes are in the
entranceway. Hyunjin freezes, he looks down at the shoes and up at the light and it doesn’t
click right away that Jeongin is home. That he’s actually here.
The door swings shut behind him and Hyunjin slowly takes his shoes off.
Normally, Jeongin would come to him. He’d come from the bedroom and he’d hug him. He’d
ask about his day even though both of them work in the same restaurant.
But Hyunjin doesn’t see him. Only an empty hallway and the faintest, faintest sound.
Is that sniffling?
“Innie?” he calls, his own voice feels foreign, shaky as he paces into the apartment, not
minding the blood trail he leaves on the floor.
The sniffling sounds are coming from his bedroom and when he opens his door, that’s when
he sees him.
Jeongin. Innie. Standing there in the middle of his room dressed in a long sleeve striped shirt
with ripped jeans. Innie wearing a dark blue beret that pushes his dark hair out of his eyes,
giving Hyunjin a full view of his beautifully tearful eyes.
He’s standing there and he’s crying. He turns to see Hyunjin and if he’s bothered by the
blood, he makes no show or comment of it. He just stands there, big, fat tears rolling down
his cheeks.
In the span of 1.25 seconds, Hyunjin feels every ounce of murderous anger melt, leaving him
empty. A painful, lonely emptiness he would have felt if he hadn’t been so angry. Every plan
to kill Jeongin flies away, every plan for punishment leaves him too and all he’s left with is
something that aches. Something that stabs at his chest the longer he sees those tears on
Jeongin’s face.
“She…” Jeongin hiccups, his throat struggling to make coherent words as he inches closer
and closer to Hyunjin. “She’s…”
Dead. Either by poison or because Jeongin finished the job, Hyunjin can’t tell. He doesn’t
care either. No, what he cares about is Jeongin, what he cares about is those tears and never
having to see them again. He can’t see Jeongin cry and he doesn’t understand why it hurts so
much to see it.
Jeongin falls into his arms and Hyunjin catches him. His arms fall naturally around the other
and Jeongin is so little in his hold. So, so fragile. He feels like he could break in Hyunjin’s
arms and whilst the thought of something breaking under his grip would normally thrill
Hyunjin, it doesn’t this time.
He holds Jeongin like he’s made of glass.
Jeongin doesn’t comment on the blood he’s soaked in. He doesn’t say a word. Instead he cries
into Hyunjin’s chest and Hyunjin still doesn’t understand how Jeongin can feel sympathy or
remorse for killing a woman who could have killed him.
He decides he’s never going to understand either, it’s a Jeongin thing and it’s not his main
concern. His main concern is Jeongin and only Jeongin.
When Jeongin lifts his head, those big tearful eyes looking at him, Hyunjin can only think of
one thing to fill this aching void he’s felt since Jeongin left.
His lips against Jeongin’s push, almost desperately. Jeongin lets out a small squeak against
him but he doesn’t fight as Hyunjin pushes him backwards towards the bed. He kisses like a
starved man, taking all he can from Jeongin, holding him tight as though Jeongin would leave
again if he didn’t.
It eases the ache. Fills the void and it feels good when Jeongin’s arms wind around him
again.
Hyunjin’s hungry lips kiss, nip, suck and bite every inch of skin he can reach. His hands are
shaking, desperate to pull every inch of offending clothing keeping him from Jeongin’s skin.
His ears relish every strangled whimper, every moan he drags out and Jeongin isn’t crying
anymore.
There’s still blood on Hyunjin’s skin, even when the clothes are pushed away. Both ignore it
as Hyunjin sucks marks into Jeongin’s neck. He grinds himself down against Jeongin’s body
and gasps at the sound of Jeongin’s sweet moans and gasps. He’s missed those sounds more
than he thought possible.
There’s nothing gentle about this, nothing refined either. Normally Hyunjin relishes a bit of
power and control during their sessions. Even that one in the freezer had been controlled. But
Hyunjin takes like a starving man and Jeongin clings. Desperate, feverish, they kiss, they
suck, they grind and when Hyunjin finally pushes himself into the other, he can’t stop the
blissed out moan he lets out.
Jeongin’s just as bad. He’s leaving bite marks against Hyunjin’s shoulder, he’s sucking
hickeys into his neck. He’s gasping Hyunjin’s name into the dark room and clammy hands
cling so hard they leave little white marks against skin. Hyunjin’s breathing is stuttered,
ragged as he drives relentlessly into Jeongin. His hips slam against the other and each time,
Jeongin lets out a high pitched yelp.
God, how the fuck did he live without this for a week and a half?
“Never leave again,” Hyunjin demands, voice ragged as he thrusts without mercy. Jeongin’s
body shudders in his hold and he bites Jeongin’s collarbone, loving the sound he makes. “You
hear me? Never again.”
Jeongin sounds like he’s being strangled. “N-n-never ag-gain…”
“Promise!” Hyunjin growls, his thrusts turning into punishing stabs against Jeongin’s
prostate. The shudder the other makes is delicious.
“I...I promise!” Jeongin gasps. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry daddy.”
Hyunjin almost pauses, the other has never called him that before. He’s not exactly against it
and he doesn’t have more time to think about it before he’s thrusting right against Jeongin’s
prostate, making the other scream and cling to him more.
Hyunjin’s half out of his mind by the time Jeongin finally comes. He’s a mess, sweat, cum all
over them both. Hyunjin’s lips trace sweat-soaked skin, white finally flashing behind his
eyelids as he follows to that blissful end.
Finally. Finally, satisfaction.
He thinks he passed out because he doesn’t remember what happens next but when he comes
to, they’re both tangled on the bed and gasping. Big, heaving breaths into each other’s bodies,
their legs and arms tangled. Somewhere in the mess, Hyunjin managed to find Jeongin’s hand
to hold.
They’re quiet for hours. Gasps of air, ragged breathing and the smallest of kisses against skin.
Hyunjin won’t say it but Jeongin will, he missed him.
When Hyunjin finally manages to gain enough peace of mind, he pulls out and lies down
next to Jeongin instead.
“Daddy?”
Jeongin giggles. “Thought I might try it out. What do you think?”
“I could get used to it.”
“It sounded better than ‘Sir’,” Jeongin says, all traces of his tears, his sadness about his
mother pushed aside.
Just pushed aside, Hyunjin isn’t stupid enough to think Jeongin isn’t going to get sentimental
and tearful later thinking about it. It’s just for now, he’s sufficiently distracted.
Hyunjin stretches and Jeongin rolls into his side. His arms are warm, his entire body is warm
and something in Hyunjin calms. It even purrs in contentment at feeling Jeongin in his arms
again.
Maybe he’ll ask him later why the fuck he didn’t message him back, why he ghosted all his
calls and ignored him but for now, Hyunjin is just so blissfully content. Satisfied. Whatever
beast inside of him that had been raging for the last week, finally fed and content.
Hyunjin falls asleep faster and easier than he has all week, his arms tight around Jeongin and
though the world may be falling outside, inside all he feels is contentment.
Blissful, beautiful peace and Jeongin’s soft scented shampoo guiding him into sleep.
Chapter End Notes
Hey!
I am honestly surprised this chapter came out, it was so HARD to write. Hyunjin's
narrative is just angry and a lot more erratic and energetic than Jeongin's so it threw me
right off but it had to be done. Believe me when I say that the insertion of two ATEEZ
members is important. For me on a creative end it's because I wanted two faces I knew
and I know what its like reading a fic and suddenly facing characters from another
fandom you don't know (if you don't stan ATEEZ) it's fine, just think of them as OCs
with faces you can google if you wanna know what they look like.
I tried writing this with ATEEZ members and then I wrote it again with OC characters,
the ATEEZ one hit harder but this is still strictly a SKZ fic :) I just need two characters
to fill those roles.
What did Innie get up to in Seoul, why did he ghost Hyunjin? We'll find out later, for
now, he doesn't know how close he came to death. Shh, no one tell him.
As always, your comments, your memes, your theories, your everything is one more
reason for me to keep writing and I love you all and the support you've shown this story.
Thank you so much! :)
See you next time.

-Z
XVII: In Theatro Ludus
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
She’s asleep.
It’s easier when she’s asleep. When peace finally takes over and she’s blissfully unaware of
what’s happening around her. Her heart monitor is calm, beeping away to the rhythm of her
heart.
How many times had Jeongin placed his head on her chest and listened? Just listened to that
rhythmic sound?
If anything was an indication that everything would be alright, it was the beat of his mother’s
heart. His mother, for whom lingering childhood memories still associate with safety. With
home, warmth and an all-encompassing feeling that no matter what intrusive thoughts
invaded his mind, no matter what he did, someone was always going to love him.
Maybe that’s why it’s so hard. Because of these lingering thoughts, Jeongin can’t face the
reality that those feelings weren’t real. That the person he thought loved him most and
protected him was actually trying to kill him.
But in lucid moments of clarity, he knows it too well. He faces it and he knows the woman in
the hospital bed before him may be his mother but she didn’t love him.
How could someone who tried to kill him claim to love him so?
In the quiet room, the steady, haunting sound of her heart monitor is like a lingering reminder
that she’s still alive and physically, she is. Despite the poison shutting down all her vital
organs, she is still here. But the doctors had put her on life support three days ago and
extensive testing determined she would not wake up.
Chan watches as with shaking hands, Jeongin signs the consent form to have her taken off
life support.
Jeongin had been a mess all week. His father was mysteriously absent and every day it was
only Chan and Jeongin who visited. Every day Jeongin sat next to his mother, held her hand
and watched her wither away until finally the life support machine was the only thing
keeping her alive.
Chan did other things with his time. Sometimes he was okay to leave Jeongin in the hospital
whilst he visited the Seoul branch of Gods Menu to check on things. He made some calls,
checked on the Busan crew regularly and even visited his father but he always kept one eye
on Jeongin.
So it came to the final day and still Jeongin’s father was nowhere to be seen. As the only
relative in the room, it came down to Jeongin and despite everything his mother had done to
him, he still loved her. Even if he was the one who poisoned her, he still loved her and no one
could understand that better than Chan himself.
Chan who - sometimes, admittedly - considered simply not doing what his father asked him
to do but in the end, always did it.
Why? Because at the end of the day, he was his father and despite Chan repeatedly trying to
emotionally divorce him, it always came back to this unconditional love he still had for the
man.
In this, he understood Yang Jeongin with perfect clarity.
“Maybe we should try calling him again,” Jeongin suggests, one hand wiping a stray tear off
his cheek as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “He should be here.”
Chan nods but he doubts Jeongin’s father would come. He hadn’t visited once whilst she was
dying, he ignored her when she was alive. Both her and his son. He pretended they weren’t as
sick as they really were, why would he come now?
Jeongin tries calling. The doctors wait, watching patiently as Jeongin paces around the quiet
ward. Chan watches as Jeongin hits the voicemail and tries calling again, then again and
again until finally Chan steps forward and places a hand on his arm.
“Innie,” he says, voice gentle and patient. “He’s not coming.”
For a moment, Jeongin looks like he wants to argue but then he looks at his mother on the
hospital bed, he looks at the doctors waiting for his signal to take her off life support and
Chan sees something in his eyes click. His father really isn’t coming, even now.
He takes a deep shaking breath and Chan wraps an arm around him, as if to keep him up.
Jeongin leans into him and sniffles, his eyes helplessly staring at her body.
Then he nods to the doctor and clings to Chan as both watch the doctors silently take her off
the machines.
With the heart monitor disconnected, there’s no horrible drone of the machine when she dies.
But Chan feels Jeongin’s entire body shudder when the steady rise and fall of her chest
suddenly stops.
Jeongin whimpers, his knees give out and Chan is the only thing that keeps him from
completely collapsing onto the floor. They sink to the floor, the majority of Jeongin’s weight
held up by Chan’s arms. Jeongin hides his face in Chan’s shoulder and cries, loud, chest-
wracking sobs that echo in the otherwise silent room.
-
Hyunjin’s finger traces feather light down the bridge of Jeongin’s nose. It rests gently on his
lips and trickles down onto his chin. Jeongin murmurs sleepily, he knows who’s touching him
and it’s that thought alone that stops him from rolling over.
There’s something that purrs in contentment being this close to Hyunjin again. Feeling the
warmth of his body right next to him, one arm under him, the other resting on his chest as his
finger slides down his throat to his collarbone. These very same fingers have killed people
and indeed, Hyunjin still has flecks of blood from last night drying on his arms, his face, his
neck and chest. But these fingers are so light, almost loving as his palm rests gently on
Jeongin’s chest and feels the steady beat of his heart.
“Open your eyes, Innie.”
Jeongin obeys like it’s second nature. His gaze is still blurry for a second before it clears to
the sight of Hyunjin’s beautiful face slightly leaning over him. He can’t read the look on
Hyunjin’s face but then, he usually never can.
He’s never met anyone with such strong control over his facial muscles but Hyunjin is very
much in control of everything his body does.
Only, Jeongin remembers, he isn’t. There was absolutely nothing controlled and calm about
the long list of increasingly violent texts in his notification bar. Whilst he was in Seoul,
Hyunjin had lost his shit here and Jeongin would be lying if he said that knowing how
desperate the other had been didn’t make him feel a tiny bit powerful.
Just a little.
He goes to move his hand to touch Hyunjin’s face but is promptly stopped by something
around his wrist. Confused, Jeongin looks up to see a white piece of cloth tied around his
wrist, tight enough that he can’t wriggle out of it. He follows the cloth up to the headboard
and when he moves his other hand, he looks up to see that it too is tied up.
As consciousness dawns on him, he’s vaguely aware of the fact that both his feet are tied.
Each ankle tied to the end of the bed. His mind is still sleepy as he blinks up at Hyunjin’s
face.
“Hyunjin…?”
“Yes darling?” Hyunjin purrs, his hand tracing down Jeongin’s face.
Jeongin nods to his tied up wrists and raises an eyebrow. “New kink?”
“Old kink actually,” Hyunjin says. “But this has nothing to do with kinks, baby.”
“It doesn’t?” Jeongin asks, his voice deliberately sugar sweet as he tries to pull on the cloth
holding his right wrist. “Then what is it?”
Hyunjin’s hand is warm on the left side of his face. He leans down and kisses Jeongin. A
long, deep kiss that leaves Jeongin breathless. Then he pulls back, climbs over Jeongin and
hops off the bed with an unusually high spring in his step.
Jeongin pulls at the cloth again but none of them budge. Alarm bells start ringing as he
realises Hyunjin is going to the bathroom now.
“Hyunjin?” he calls, the other doesn’t respond.
He hears the shower running. Jeongin’s mind is now fully awake as he pulls and pulls until
his wrists go red but none of the knots budge on his arms or legs. He wriggles on the bed as
much as he can but nothing gives and when Hyunjin’s cologne wafts into the room, he looks
up in time to see the other coming back in.
Hyunjin seems calm, even humming to himself as he rubs at his hair with the towel on his
way to his dresser. He doesn’t spare Jeongin one glance as he grabs his uniform and starts
getting dressed.
“Hyunjin,” Jeongin calls, a little frantic now. “Untie me, I’m gonna be late for work!”
“Oh you’re not going to work today, baby,” Hyunjin purrs. “Don’t worry, I already called
Minho about it.”
The look he shoots Jeongin is downright evil. “Told him you have a stomach bug and you’ve
been shitting your ring out all night.”
Jeongin tugs at the cloths again. “Untie me!”
“No, shan’t,” Hyunjin sighs, dismissive as he pulls on the rest of his uniform and ties his hair
back into a ponytail.
Jeongin pants, already exhausted from the exertion. The cloths are digging painfully into his
skin because of all the pulling but none of it is loosening in the slightest. He can feel sweat on
his forehead already as he tries one more time to pull but it doesn’t budge.
“Okay,” he pants. “Okay, I’m sorry. This is about me not calling you back while I was in
Seoul, right?”
“Very astute, Innie,” Hyunjin purrs as he looks over himself in the mirror and checks over his
uniform.
“I’m sorry,” Jeongin says, his voice a little desperate and begging as he tugs at the restraints.
“Okay? I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry. I couldn’t deal with what was happening to my
mum, I didn’t check my phone the whole time I was gone! I’m sorry!”
Hyunjin pauses. Jeongin watches as the blonde slowly turns around and fixes his eyes on
him. He can’t read him at all but there’s something a little more guarded about his gaze this
time.
“You’re lying, Innie,” Hyunjin points out. “You know I hate it when you lie to me. Of course
you checked your phone, you just ignored me.”
“I couldn’t-”
“Deal with both me and your mother at the same time, yes I get that,” Hyunjin says with a
wave of his hand, as if batting the point away. “What I want to know is why. I’m not some
problem you can just push aside, I thought we both understood we’re more than that so why
did you ghost me?”
Jeongin shakes his head and he can think of a million reasons why he ignored Hyunjin.
Somehow it was easier to do it in Seoul, when he knew Hyunjin couldn’t physically come
after him for doing so. But there was more to it, he remembers. He looked at his mother
every single day and every day he wondered if she’d have ever approved of Hyunjin if she’d
known him. He knows she wouldn’t if she knew who he really was. Who they both were.
Then there was the fact that Hyunjin couldn’t understand why Jeongin felt remorse when he
was the one who had poisoned her. He would ask and for that, Jeongin had no answers
because even he didn’t understand it. He felt sad and he didn’t know why.
In that room in the hospital, in that space, Jeongin could not handle both the reality of his
mother and Hyunjin at the same time. So he shut down.
It’s not an answer Hyunjin would accept, Jeongin barely understands it himself. He shakes
his head and Hyunjin sighs before rolling off the bed.
“Anyway,” he says, tone as neutral as ever. “I better get going, I’m gonna be late.”
“Wait!” Jeongin squeaks, eyes wide as he stares at Hyunjin’s back. “You’re just gonna leave
me here?! You’re not gonna untie me!?”
When Hyunjin turns around, his eyes are a little lighter. Jeongin stares in disbelief as Hyunjin
blows him a kiss.
“Consider this your punishment for ignoring me,” he smiles. “Be good, don’t piss on my bed
while I’m gone.”
“Bu-wait!” Jeongin screams, his arms and legs struggling with the restraints. He hears
Hyunjin putting his shoes on and the front door open as he screams. “Wait! Hyunjin!!”
The door closes with an echoing thud and Jeongin screams.
With the amount of internal pressure and support it had taken to raise Chan’s father to the
status he currently is, it’s no surprise that Changbin, Chan and Jisung have dealt with
kkangpae before. In fact when elections came around, it was the backing of the kkangpae in
Daegu and Seoul that really pushed the numbers in his favour.
That doesn’t, however, mean that Changbin enjoyed it and if he could have it his way, he’d
never deal with kkangpae ever again.
There’s something about their world that feels a little too familiar. They have their own rules,
their own way of doing things. Anyone who doesn’t fit in that world, who isn’t strong enough
to survive it, will soon be weeded out, taken to the back and shot in the head.
It reminds Changbin a lot of having to survive the endless black ocean that is the upper class
society. That whole ‘conceal, don’t feel’ shit that he’d had drilled into his head a million
times. Like playing a role he’d been born into but could never feel comfortable with.
His polished shoes shine against the light as he makes his way down a long hallway, flanked
by the guards that had accosted him at the door. It was only at San’s order that they hadn’t
outright cavity search him - if they did that shit here.
Wolgang Pa headquarters is a little like an office. Long hallways, endless dull painted walls,
polished floors and the combined scent of gunpowder, blood, alcohol and bleach all in one.
Where one might imagine a gang of raggedy drug addicts with bad hygiene and cheap
clothing, Wolgang Pa is filled with middle aged alcoholics dressed in expensive suits with
shoes that shine. Armed men with tattoos, yellow teeth, overpowering cologne that fails to
cover the scent of tobacco and alcohol seeped into their very skin.
At the end of the hall stand two more tall, middle aged men in suits. As Changbin
approaches, they stand a little more guarded, attentive as they eye him up and down before he
even reaches them.
“San,” he says as he comes forward. He doesn’t need to say anything more.
One of the guards knocks on the door and when it opens, Changbin sees San poking his head
out and looking a little worse for wear than any of these men.
“Ah, Chan called this morning and said he’d be sending you,” San nods and opens the door a
little wider. “Come in.”
Changbin nods to the guards and heads inside. When San closes the door, Changbin turns and
looks him up and down. San is dressed in a white dress shirt with the buttons askew. His hair
is a tousled mess and he either just got out of bed or he dressed in the dark.
“You can’t ever let yourself be seen like that,” Changbin comments dryly.
San glances down and nods. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just been a little hectic this morning.
Woo still isn’t happy with me.”
“Those men out there will turn on you the second they smell weakness,” Changbin says with
a gesture to the door. “No matter how loyal you think they are, both of you are still the little
shits who just overthrew the pa and they’re all waiting for an opportunity to smack you both
six feet under - fix your shirt and hair.”
San looks a little flustered but nods as he gestures to the door on the left. “Woo’s taking a
shower.”
“Stop calling him Woo as well. If you slip up in public and those men find out what he is to
you, they’ll kill you both,” Changbin instructs and San has no choice but to nod as Changbin
heads to the bathroom door.
Wooyoung’s office is a little more like a tiny apartment than an office. The main room is like
a large sitting room with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. The doors to the left
lead to the bathroom, another to the bedroom and another to a supply closet. There’s a small
kitchenette in the back and this place isn’t really supposed to be used as an apartment but it’s
probably the safest place for Wooyoung to be right now with Wolgang Pa still reeling from
the deaths of their leaders.
No one in Wolgang Pa could have predicted that one day it would all fall on the illegitimate
Youtuber.
But now that it has, they have less than 24 hours to establish Wooyoung’s position or watch
him be strung up from the highest building as a warning.
Changbin watches as the bathroom door opens and Wooyoung himself steps out. He’s
dressed a lot neater than San at least, buttons all done up, suit pressed and fresh. He’s still
rubbing a towel over his hair when his eyes land on Changbin and he stops.
“Chan sent you?”
“Chan sent me,” Changbin nods.
Wooyoung scrunches his nose and throws his towel aside. He walks up to Changbin and
looks him over. “Why can’t Chan come himself?”
“Chan’s effect on your pa is a lot more intimidating if he’s not seen following you around but
backing you from the shadows,” Changbin explains calmly. He nods to Wooyoung’s damp
locks. “Fix your hair.”
For a moment, Wooyoung looks slightly amused. “Are you here to tell me how to do my hair
and nails?”
“I’m here to keep you alive for the first 24 hours of your reign over Wolgang Pa,” Changbin
says coolly. “You’re the leader but there are a lot of men who were loyal to your father and
siblings. Men who are gathering support as we speak and if you don’t do exactly as I say,
both you and San will die before nightfall.”
Wooyoung’s playful smile drops right off his face. He glances over Changbin’s shoulder to
San and Changbin watches his eyes darken a little.
“I never wanted to be the leader.”

“Woo-” San tries but Wooyoung’s hand lifts immediately.
“No, shut up, I’m not talking to you right now,” he snaps and it’s fascinating to see the shift.
He goes from fluffy calm and even playful to deadly serious and even murderous in a split
second.
Changbin watches him and hums, they might just have a chance here.
“I never wanted to be the leader of this godforsaken pa,” Wooyoung hisses, his voice
wobbling a little with emotion. “I never wanted it. I wanted to do good in the world, I was
perfectly happy living in my bubble and I didn’t care that I could die the second dad did. I
didn’t care about that.”
“But I did!” San cries.
Changbin sighs, he’s right in the middle of a lovers quarrel.
“Both of you shut up,” he snaps as he whirls around to stare at San. “You, stop talking. Your
mission is to not talk all day. Show no emotion on your face and keep your gun at the ready at
all times. Understand?”
Stunned again, San nods as Changbin turns back to Wooyoung.
“And you, whether you like it or not, you’re the leader of Wolgang Pa. What happened to get
you here is done and dusted and unless you wanna die in the most painful way you can
imagine, you’ll do as I say. Okay?”
Wooyoung frowns but he does deflate a little. His anger seems to only be directed at San.
A moment passes before he sighs. “Fix my hair, you say?”
Changbin nods. “As the leader, both you and your guard represent Wolgang Pa and you
cannot show a single ounce of weakness. You are both immaculate, controlled, armed and
most importantly, you never show your emotions on your face. You are both untouchable and
you must project that at all times.”
Wooyoung heads back into the bathroom and comes out with a comb. He walks into the
sitting area and starts combing his hair into place. As he works, Changbin turns around and
looks over San.
“I assume you know the bigger players of Wolgang Pa,” he comments. “The ones loyal to his
father and siblings, the ones who wouldn’t be happy about his ascension as their leader? Any
leftovers we didn’t get last night?”
“Most of Wolgang Pa,” San nods.
“Bring all of those men, even the ones with a hint of loyalty to his father and arrange a
meeting today,” Changbin instructs. “Tell them nothing but make sure a rumour about the
meeting spreads. Something about old loyalists being rewarded for their loyalty to the pa and
his father, something that will get them to come willingly. I want a maximum of six men per
half hour meeting block starting at 12 and going every half hour until we get through all the
loyalists.”
San pauses to do the math in his head. “If you’re seeing six people every half hour and you
have to get through all the loyalists, that’s six meetings in three hours.”
“Get to it,” Changbin nods. “I’ll guard Wooyoung until you get back.”
San heads out and when he’s gone, Changbin turns around to see Wooyoung finishing up his
look. He turns back to Changbin expectantly and crosses his arms.
“Now what?”
“You have a meeting at midday,” Changbin replies. “Did you ever see how infighting or
punishments were dealt with when your father was in charge?”
Wooyoung nods. “Once and only once,” he says. “Father didn’t like me seeing that stuff but
that night it happened right outside my bedroom and I just happened to come out and see it.”
“What happened?”
Wooyoung shrugs, he sits on the end of one of the white leather couches, his body language
naturally relaxed as he recalls the incident.
“I think I was about six,” he says. “I heard a shout outside my room so I came out in time to
see this man on the floor with six other guys surrounding him. One of which was dad. The
man was all fucked up, his face was torn to pieces, he was bleeding everywhere and I
remember dad accusing him of disloyalty.”
Changbin nods. “What happened next?”
“Dad had one of the other guys stomp the man’s head in,” Wooyoung recalls with a small
shiver. “Boot slammed on his head until the skull caved in like an egg.”
Changbin had noted the shiver but other than that, Wooyoung had remained rather relaxed
even whilst recalling the memory. He nods to himself and takes a seat on one of the other
couches.
“Well today, you’re going to be playing a role,” he announces. “And I’m going to teach you
how. You’re going to weed out men who pose a threat to you and if you break character,
shiver, grimace, show any discomfort at all, they’ll be on you faster than a pit of vipers.”
Wooyoung nods slowly but there’s still something uncomfortable in his gaze.
Changbin checks the time on his phone. 8:50am.

He has three hours to stomp every ounce of humanity out of Wooyoung and force him into a
role he wasn’t born to fill.
God help him, he will do this.
Three hours and Jeongin is still on the bed.
His wrists are throbbing with pain as he tries twisting his legs to get the ones on his ankles to
budge. No dice.
“Fuck you Hyunjin, you fucking bastard,” he gasps as his toes wriggle in a fruitless attempt
to budge something - anything.
Flopping back on the bed with an exhausted sigh, Jeongin stares up at the ceiling. He can
hear the chirp of the birds outside, the sunlight has now completely flooded the bedroom. It
reminds him vaguely of all the times he stayed home from school and watched the morning
dawn in his room.
Those days, he used to always picture what he’d be doing around this time. Which class
would he be going to? Who would be there? Who would miss him?
He imagines God’s Menu, the kitchen that never sleeps. Seungmin would be bringing out
armfuls of wrapped meat to slap on the steel benches. Felix would make a point of not
looking at it as he brings out the vegetables and sets up his station. By this time, Jeongin
should have all the dishes ready to go, all the stoves checked and rearing for the first order of
the day.
He’d look up and see Hyunjin standing near the window between the kitchen and main room.
He always stands there in the morning, watching the set up. Jeongin used to think of it as
something close to possession but now that he thinks about it, it probably wasn’t.
Despite the reality of the restaurant, there’s something that bubbles in the morning.
Everyone’s half awake but they move on autopilot. They’re ready and when the doors open
and the first customers come in, the restaurant comes to life.
It’s a particular kind of feeling, right before they walk in. When the restaurant only belongs to
the staff, when they’re prepped and rearing to go.
It’s a completely different feeling at the end of the day when they’re cleaning up, exhausted,
feet aching and ready to go home for rest.
What would Felix say about being one staff member down for the day? Jeongin hasn’t been
there this whole past week anyway but he was meant to come back today. Would he be
disappointed? Would he be annoying Hyunjin with incessant questions about Jeongin? Would
Seungmin spend the whole day pretending he isn’t concerned but always pause what he’s
doing when Jeongin’s name is mentioned?
It feels so strange that once upon a time, the thought of walking into a restaurant of people he
was sure were responsible for murders, was terrifying. Now….well now they’re his people.
His people and he’s one of them.
A killer. A murderer. He murdered his own mother.
At the very thought, his eyes well up again. He sniffs and turns his head, focussing on the
restraint cutting into his left wrist. His skin is pink around the area from all the struggling, he
can feel it throbbing and it hurts just enough to distract him from his destructive thoughts.
He tries again and pulls. As he does, he watches the pink on his skin bloom into a rosy kind
of red. It starts shooting pain down his arm but he pulls regardless. The cloth is rubbing too
hard against his skin, burning it the more he pulls.
When he finally stops, he watches the red on his wrists fade gently back to pink.
He tries again. This time he holds his breath and concentrates his energy in pulling as hard as
he can. When he finally lets go, the wrist is throbbing harder and the pain is shooting down
his arm.
Jeongin watches the pink blush of his skin and despite his predicament, he can’t help but
smile.
He’d felt this before when he started self-harming all those years ago so it doesn’t surprise
him that he’s enjoying this.
He turns his head and pulls at the other restraint until his wrist is all but screaming with pain.
He pants and flops his head back on the pillow, a relieved smile on his face.
How he’d missed the euphoric rush of self-inflicted pain. He’d forgotten how good it felt last
time.
The day drags on slowly and Jeongin amuses himself by pulling on all four restraints until his
ankles and wrists are aching. If anyone had seen him, tied to the bed, giggling to himself and
pulling until it hurts, they’d have thought him insane.
But no one’s there to see Jeongin use the pain to shut out his thoughts and distract himself.
His giggles and panting echo on the walls, heard by no one.
The first few meetings go perfectly. They’d sorted the loyalists from least loyal to most loyal
so the first meetings were easy. At about 2pm, Chan arrives to oversee the last meetings and
by this point, Wooyoung is already deep in the swing of things.
It actually surprises Changbin to see it. He’d seen this boy’s Youtube videos. It’s no secret
that Wooyoung is all about donating to good causes, being a voice for mental health struggles
and even counselling his viewers online. He’s an online darling in the purest sense of the
word.
But in there, faced by men twice his age who were itching to find a reason to kill him, he’d
found the strength to shut that part of him out and awaken a part Changbin didn’t think
existed. Together with Changbin and San standing behind him, Wooyoung was an
untouchable force who didn’t hesitate to ask these men about their intentions with the pa and
whether or not they were to stay and declare their loyalty to him.
He was cold, precise and Changbin could swear he felt the temperature of the room drop a
few degrees when Wooyoung walked in. It was truly impressive.
Chan appears dressed in a sharp suit with his hair coiffed to the side. He smiles upon seeing
Wooyoung and bows in greeting.
It takes Wooyoung a few seconds to recognise him.
“Bang Chan in the flesh at last,” he says, a small grin appearing on his face as he takes
Chan’s hand to shake. “I assume you’re here to babysit me for the last ones?”
“From what I’ve heard from Binnie, you hardly need babysitting but yes,” Chan nods. “Bin
will be with us too. The last two meetings are full of the most extreme loyalists so having
extra faces there can’t hurt.”
Wooyoung hums. “Especially a face like yours. Even hardened kkangpae know better than to
attack someone like you.”
Chan’s smile is infectious as he takes his place next to Changbin and follows Wooyoung back
into the meeting room.
The first few meetings were easy. Full of middle aged men dressed in suits, reeking of
tobacco and alcohol. Men who bowed easily once they saw Wooyoung and realised that even
a boy like him could still provide their cushy life in Wolgang Pa so long as they did nothing
to piss him off.
The men in this room are different. Their suits aren’t old and bought a few years ago, aged
with constant pressing and drycleaning until the fabric frays. No, these men have new suits
bought as soon as this morning. They’re still a lot older but they’re stronger too. They’re the
ones who still exercise, who drink like fishes but can benchpress twice Wooyoung’s body
weight.
All of them eye him like a worm.
“Gentlemen,” Wooyoung greets once he’s reached the table where they’re all sitting. “Good
afternoon, thank you for coming.”
No answer. He doesn’t expect one either. Chan keeps his eyes on the men before him and
they keep sneaking side glances at him. If he wasn’t here, they’d have challenged
Wooyoung’s authority earlier. Chan’s presence gives them pause but only for a moment.
“Aren’t you the kid who posts Youtube videos?” one of the men cuts in. A large, bullfrog of a
man with a buzzcut, both his arms sleeved in dragon tattoos and an ugly scar on his upper lip
that causes it to permanently curl.
Wooyoung doesn’t falter but he does switch his attention to the man in question. “And?”
The man snorts. “And your father never did that shit,” he snarls. “Your father would be
turning in his grave if he knew a spoilt little shit like you was sitting in his chair.”
Changbin fixes his eyes on the others and they’re sniggering - just a little braver because one
of them spoke up. He gently taps Wooyoung’s back, a silent indication that he has to shut this
down fast before the others join in and overpower him.
Wooyoung’s eyes are like ice. “My father doesn’t have a grave,” he reminds the man coldly.
“If you’re challenging my authority, stand up.”
The man rises to his feet without hesitation. He lifts his hand and points at Wooyoung.
“We do this like the old Wolgang Pa,” he demands. “We do this right. You and me in front of
the pa tonight at 7pm. To the death. Winner is the new ruler of Wolgang Pa.”
Wooyoung nods. “We could do that,” he says. “If this was the old Wolgang Pa but it’s the
new one.”
The reason why none of the men see it coming is because they’re too busy looking at either
Wooyoung or Chan. They don’t notice anything until a loud bang topples the standing man to
the floor and the others look up to see San holding the smoking gun.
He’d shot him in the leg. The man howls in pain as he rolls onto his back, holding his leg
where San had shot his left thigh.
“You fucking snake!” he screams as Wooyoung walks up to him and peers down at his body.
“You can’t fight me like a man, you have your hound shoot me!”
“The old Wolgang Pa was a show of middle aged men reliving the glory days of fist fighting
and cock comparisons,” Wooyoung states blandly. “The first thing I’m going to do as head of
Wolgang Pa is eliminate dinosaurs like you.”
The man on the floor is sweating with pain but his hatred is enough to keep him talking.
“You won’t get away with this,” he promises. “There will be an uprising-”
“You have a lovely daughter,” Wooyoung comments. The man pauses and Chan can swear
the smile on Wooyoung’s face is terrifying.
“You….what did you…?”
“The bids for her were much higher than I predicted,” Wooyoung continues with that same
smile. “Her mother went for a modest sum but your daughter...wow. Is it because she’s a
virgin? I can guarantee she won’t be for long, the man who paid for her was very eager.”
“You fucking bastard!” the man screams and when he tries to reach for Wooyoung, another
bang hits his other leg and he shrieks as he rolls back onto his side - as if that will make it
harder for San to keep shooting him.
Wooyoung puts his boot on the man’s chest, pinning him down as he leans over to look him
in the eye.
“Listen to me now, old man. You, your children, your wife, your mother, father, even your
fucking nieces and nephews belong to me now. Step out of line and I take all of them.”
There's silence in the room. Chan observes it all. When they’d looked over the men who
would be in these meetings, San had accurately picked out which one would be most likely to
openly challenge Wooyoung. All it had taken afterwards was a simple matter of finding his
family, every single member.
San had been right.
Wooyoung slowly lifts his foot and the man is left lying there, panting, in pain and staring up
at Wooyoung as though he still didn’t believe Wooyoung had sold his daughter and wife off.
Wooyoung turns to the rest of the men and smiles. “Anyone else want to challenge me?”
No one speaks up. Wooyoung nods and pulls a pistol from his belt, he aims down at the man
below him and shoots him in the head. “Good. Get out.”
Jeongin must have fallen asleep because when he wakes, it’s already night. The room is
bathed in darkness and for a moment, he thinks Hyunjin is still at work.
Then he smells it. The faintest scent of pine and at once his muscles relax like it’s a chemical
reaction. He’s vaguely aware he’s still tied up and when his eyes focus in the dark, he notices
a dark figure leaning over him on the bed.
“Had fun?” Hyunjin asks, voice low with amusement as he pokes at Jeongin’s left wrist.
Jeongin whimpers and concentrates on focussing his gaze until he can make out the lines and
shapes of Hyunjin’s face.
“What’s the time?”

“Ten,” Hyunjin purrs. “I had lockup duty.”
Jeongin’s sleepy brain does the math and he glares. “You had me tied to this bed for 14
hours?!”
If he had his hands, he’d hit him. But he doesn’t so he goes for the next best thing.
Hyunjin yelps in surprise when Jeongin’s forehead crashes into his face. He skitters back as
Jeongin pulls once again at his restraints in an effort to somehow break himself free so he can
wrap his fingers around Hyunjin’s pretty neck.
“Untie me!”
“You headbutt me and want me to untie you?” Hyunjin laughs. “Where’s the please?”
“Sorry,” Jeongin snarls. “Please, untie me so I can kick your ass!”
“As if you’d manage, pipsqueak,” Hyunjin teases as he rolls off the bed just like he did in the
morning. “Gotta give it to you though, you’ve got one hard head. Must be because you need
less space than usual for your brain.”
“Untie me Hyunjin!” Jeongin screams. “I’m hungry, I’m busting, I need a shower-”
“Understatement of the year,” Hyunjin comments.
If Jeongin could hit him, he would. But he can feel it, he hasn’t eaten all day and he’s weak.
He’s almost shaking with hunger and it’s amazing he’s held his bladder this long. He’s at
least one more hour away from pissing on the bed.
“Fine, I suppose my puppy’s been punished enough,” Hyunjin hums and Jeongin holds still
as he leans over to pull him out of his restraints.
First the legs, then Hyunjin’s pine scent envelops Jeongin’s senses as he leans over to undo
the hands. Right first, then left.
As soon as Jeongin is free, he groans from the pain still throbbing in his wrists. Hyunjin sits
down on the side of the bed and takes one wrist into his hands, his eyebrows furrowing as he
examines the marks.
“Fuck, Innie, what did you do to yourself?”
Jeongin wants to hit him but he’s acutely aware that Hyunjin might actually tie him back up
if he does so. He watches Hyunjin’s eyes roaming over the marks on his skin and he had done
a number on them. He’d been pulling all day, the skin is an angry red where the cloth had
been and it blooms pink in the surrounding areas. It’s hot to the touch and painful.
“Shower first, I’ll bandage these after,” Hyunjin commands and Jeongin is too hungry to
argue.
He rolls off the bed, his knees shaking as he stumbles away from the godforsaken bed
towards the bathroom.
It takes a few minutes. His bladder is thankful for the blissful release and the shower has to
be cold because when he tries the hot water, his wrists burn harder than they did before.
When Jeongin finally comes out, dressed in one of Hyunjin’s shirts and boxers, Hyunjin is
already waiting on the bed with a first aid kit and a box of takeout chicken.
The noise Jeongin makes would be more embarrassing if he wasn’t so desperately hungry. He
rushes to the bed and when he starts eating, Hyunjin quietly takes his free hand and starts
dabbing at it with a cold cloth.
“Felix asked after you today,” he comments, voice bland as he works on the wrist. “He was
actually kind of annoying actually.”
“I knew it,” Jeongin giggles with a mouth full of chicken.
Hyunjin winces and reaches a hand up to close his mouth for him. He continues on the wrist
and hums. “Yeah well, that was your punishment. We’re even now. You ignore me again, I’ll
keep you tied to the bed for two days instead of one.”
Jeongin bites through a fat piece of chicken thigh and relishes in the taste. He can’t remember
food tasting so good and he even likes the oily aftertaste.
Hyunjin finishes with his free hand and Jeongin switches to it so Hyunjin can work on his
other hand instead. He numbs it, gently dabs a cream on the skin and covers it gently with a
bandage.
Jeongin is just finishing his food when Hyunjin works on both his ankles and when he’s
finally finished, Jeongin has already put the empty box away with a satisfied sigh.
Hyunjin then climbs up on the bed and rests his head on Jeongin’s chest. He curls into his
body and Jeongin rests his hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. He’d hit him but he’s sufficiently
placated with food and aftercare.
Add that to the fact that he’d actually had fun hurting himself and this punishment really
wasn’t that bad.
It’s quiet and dark. Hyunjin hadn’t bothered with the bedroom light when the hallway light
pours in through the door. Jeongin can feel Hyunjin’s head on his chest, a firm weight as he
runs his fingers through long, blonde, soft locks. It’s not often that Hyunjin snuggles into him
like this but it’s always nice when he does. When he allows Jeongin to pet him and be the one
giving comfort instead of needing it.
“Did you miss me?” he asks, voice quiet in the darkness.
Hyunjin doesn’t answer, instead he finds Jeongin’s other hand and laces their fingers
together.
Jeongin leans down and kisses his head. He then leans back until he’s lying back against the
pillows. Hyunjin on top of him, ear pressed to his chest as though listening to his heart is
keeping him sane.
Eventually they have to move. The chicken box needs to be thrown away in an actual bin,
they have to brush their teeth and turn off the hallway light because neither of them can sleep
with the lights on. Hyunjin takes a shower and Jeongin makes the most of his newfound
freedom by cleaning up, making the bed, brushing his teeth and admiring Hyunjin’s
handiwork on his wrists.
When Hyunjin comes out, smelling divine as he always does, Jeongin follows him to bed and
snuggles in when the last light is switched off.
“Can I go to work tomorrow?” he asks, head tucked under Hyunjin’s chin as he curls into his
side.
Hyunjin nods. “You can go to work tomorrow,” he says with a yawn.
Jeongin grins, feeling a lot like a child who’s just been told they’ve been good enough to
deserve candy. He presses a kiss to Hyunjin’s neck and feels the other chuckle.
“Sleep,” Hyunjin says, one hand petting Jeongin’s head like a cat.
Despite Jeongin spending most of the day unconscious, he snuggles in until Hyunjin’s
heartbeat thuds under his ear. His scent engulfs his senses and his warmth envelops him.
He’s out like a light.
By nightfall, the continued existence of Wooyoung and San is testament enough. Wolgang Pa
is subdued, whipped fervently into submission and it wasn’t easy but it was done.
“Impressive,” Chan says when they finally make it back to Wooyoung’s suite. “You took
control firmly and decisively.”
“Thank you,” Wooyoung replies, eyes still cold as ever. “Does that mean you’re not gonna
send Changbin tomorrow?”
“I’ll keep Changbin with you for a while,” Chan says. “As a precaution. You’ve taken control
but you’re not out of the woods yet. When the time comes, my reputation can help clean
yours in public. It might even be easier because the general public didn’t know your father
was kkangpae. And they have no idea who you are.”
“But they’ll find out,” Changbin promises with a wry smile. “I’ll be here tomorrow at six am,
try not to die before then.”
Wooyoung nods and Chan smiles.
“Get some sleep. You’re not going to get much of it in the coming days.”
With another bow, the two turn on their heels and leave the room. San sees them out, he
closes the door after them and when he turns around, Wooyoung isn’t where he was
previously standing.
San frowns, he walks further into the apartment and looks around. Maybe he went to the
bathroom? It’s been a long day after all and he’s spent the latter half of that covered in the
blood of his father’s most loyal friends. He’d personally killed six today, San didn’t even
know Wooyoung was capable of killing anyone but he hadn’t hesitated. He’d shot them all in
cold blood without even a flinch.
“Woo?” he calls, wincing when Changbin’s voice in his head chides him for the nickname.
He checks the bedroom, the sitting area and finally the bathroom. When he opens the door, he
finds Wooyoung bent over the toilet bowl. Great big heaving gasps of breath as he vomits
everything he’d eaten today. Tears are streaking down his cheeks, his knees are shaking and
his hands are clinging to the toilet bowl as though he’ll collapse if he lets go.
“...Woo…”
Wooyoung gasps and looks up. San’s never seen him like this but at once he understands. The
icy cold prince that had taken over today wasn’t the real Wooyoung. This man sitting in front
of the toilet bowl is the real one. The real, broken, scared, shaking and traumatised
Wooyoung.
San rushes over to him, He drops to his knees and pulls Wooyoung into a tight embrace.
Wooyoung sobs into his chest, he cries for his father, he cries about all the things he’d done
today and he keeps begging for someone to forgive him.
The more he cries, the more San realises what he’s done to Wooyoung. Like cold ice dripping
down his spine, chilling him with sudden truth.
He’s destroyed him.
Jeongin’s finger traces down the soft curve of Hyunjin’s cheek. Every now and then, Hyunjin
feels soft kisses petalling along his face and if he ever said he didn’t miss this, it would be a
lie. He missed Jeongin, he missed his sweet scent, he missed his warmth, he missed
everything.
He opens his eyes and there the boy is. His smile bright as the sun as he leans over Hyunjin
and presses a kiss to his lips.
“Morning,” Jeongin whispers. “Sleep well?”
Hyunjin notes the morning sun glinting in Jeongin’s hair. He moves a hand to touch it when
something metallic clangs against the headboard. His hand won’t move and when he looks
up, he notices a silver handcuff around his wrist, the other end securely fastened on the
headboard.
Hyunjin whips his head around to see his right wrist is cuffed as well and when he looks
down, Jeongin helpfully moves out of the way to show Hyunjin’s ankles bound with leather
to the bed.
He looks up, Jeongin is already dressed in his uniform. He’s showered, brushed his teeth and
ready as he smiles down at Hyunjin with a near-demented look in his eye.
“Innie…”
“I’m gonna be late for work,” Jeongin chirps as he rolls off the bed and goes to take the car
keys. “But don’t worry, I told Minho-hyung that you caught my stomach bug. It’s very
contagious.”
“Innie, uncuff me or I swear to god I will make you suffer,” Hyunjin growls, his hands
already trying to pull against the cuffs and failing miserably.
Jeongin has an annoyingly high spring in his step. He even hums as he grabs his bag and
hauls it over his shoulder.
“I’m on lockup duty,” he announces with a big smile. “I’ll see you tonight, daddy!”
“Innie!” Hyunjin screams. “Get back here!”
Jeongin doesn’t. Instead he hums, skips his way out the door, down the hallway to the front
door.
“Innie!” Hyunjin shouts, the metal cuffs rattling as he tugs on them.
The front door opens and then it closes with Jeongin’s footsteps fading as he walks away.
Chapter End Notes
Hey~
So this chapter is very, very, very much a filler chapter because it's not only easing back
into Jeongin POV after Hyunjin's violent one but also setting up Changbin's running
relationship with our newest addition to the clusterfuck that is this network of Gen-Z
kids working like hell to keep Chan's father in politics.
It's also because I've been whacked with writers block and instead of waiting for it to go
away, I powered through and this is the result (not too happy with it but at least the
sticky part is over and we can move on now)
As always, I appreciate all of you, all your love and comments, I read and reread every
single one of your comments to keep me going and boy did I cling to them this time. My
god I hate writers block...
See you next time! Hopefully much sooner than it took me this time XD
XVIII: Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have now begun our descent into the balmy tropics of Honolulu,
Hawaii. The weather is a sweaty humid temperature of 32 degrees celsius with a humidity of
65% so for the love of god dress with one layer only-”
“Felix, shut up,” Hyunjin groans, his eyes still covered by the eyemask he’d put on shortly
after the flight took off from South Korea.
Chan called it the holiday he’d promised them. In his words “I work the Busan branch harder
than any other branch and I promised you guys a break so, Hawaii.”
The truth is that Wolgang Pa is unstable and stray, disgruntled gang members are raising their
own special kind of hell in Busan. Looting, rioting, unprompted rape and murder incidents
sparked all over the city. The safest option had been to shut the restaurant down for two
weeks and send the staff out of the country.
Of course, that’s not what Chan told them when he sent them away but they all knew the real
reason why.
It was interesting getting in the plane. Hyunjin had stayed suspiciously close to him the entire
time and when they’d finally taken their seats, the first thing he’d done was pull out his
phone, earphones and an eye mask.
“I hate flying,” he muttered when Jeongin had asked.
During takeoff, he had his hand on Jeongin’s knee. His grip was painfully tight all the way up
until the plane finally lifted off the ground and gravity dropped their stomachs down.
Then when the flight finally stabilised and they were safely in the air, Hyunjin put his
earphones in, turned on music, put his eye mask on and promptly went to sleep.
He wasn’t the only one of course. Seungmin and Minho had done the same. Felix, being
Felix, befriended all the flight attendants and Jisung ordered everything on the menu in the
name of “taste testing for future Gods Menu dishes”
It’s two weeks and for the first week, it’s going to be just them whilst Chan and Changbin
keep an eye on things back in Busan. In the second week, they’re supposed to come to
Hawaii and join them but their absence from the group has already been sorely noted.
Jeongin adjusts the blanket on Hyunjin’s lap as the blonde yawns and pulls his eye mask off.
He punches the bridge of his nose and leans his head back on the headrest of his chair.
“Fucking hate flying.”
“You said that,” Jeongin says, a small grin biting at the corner of his lips as he pulls away
from Hyunjin’s blanket and watches Felix waking Seungmin up. “It wasn’t that bad, Just a bit
of turbulence.”
Still, one look at Hyunjin and he knows why the other hates flying. There’s something about
a severe lack of control on a plane. They’re all completely at the mercy of not only the
competence of the pilots but the weather as well. Every time the plane rocks with turbulence,
Jeongin feels a sense of innate helplessness and he’s learnt that it’s that feeling Hyunjin hates
most.
He’s not as bad as Minho, who had a death grip on Jisung’s arm the whole time from the
moment they boarded to the moment he fell asleep. Felix later mentioned that Minho has a
fear of heights and gripping Jisung so hard he causes bruises is somewhat calming for him.
As the flight attendants check that tables are put away and seat belts are securely fastened,
Jeongin watches the way Hyunjin stretches out his limbs. The way he lifts his arms up over
his head and stretches until something clicks.
He’s so beautiful it hurts to look at him sometimes.
His hair, tied back into a simple ponytail, has stray tendrils ghosting lightly over his ears and
when Jeongin lifts a hand to tuck one behind his ear, Hyunjin pauses mid stretch and looks at
him.
The plane begins to descend as Hyunjin leans over in his seat and presses a firm kiss against
Jeongin’s lips. His hand finds the back of Jeongin’s head and holds on, fingers sinking in hair
as the kiss deepens.
With his eyes closed, Jeongin feels like he’s falling. It’s just the gravity of the plane
descending but he can’t help but hold onto Hyunjin anyway. He wouldn’t be able to pull
away even if he wanted to, Hyunjin’s grip on his head is too hard and when the plane finally
hits the ground with a bump, Hyunjin bites Jeongin’s bottom lip so hard he draws blood.
Jeongin jumps a little in his seat. He feels Hyunjin’s tongue against his lip and he knows the
other can taste his blood. Maybe even deliberately.
Hyunjin finally pulls away when the plane rolls to a stop. Jeongin taps his lip with his finger
and looks at the tiny bit of blood on his finger, Hyunjin had licked most of the blood off.
“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” Felix bounces once the all-clear is given from the flight
attendants. He jumps to his feet and reaches up to the overhead lockers for his carry-on. “I’m
ready to kiss the ground!”
“I’ll just be happy when my feet are on solid ground again,” Minho mutters as he grabs the
back of Jisung’s shirt and follows him off the plane.
Jeongin follows the train of people ambling their way off. The change happens when he steps
out onto the bridge and is hit at once by the humidity. It almost takes his breath away as he
stumbles a little and follows the crowd towards the arrivals section. Hyunjin stays close and
if he’s bothered by the humidity, he makes no show of it.
The group amble through customs, grab their bags and when they’re finally out of Terminal
2, Jeongin feels an urge for a shower.
“Chan said a guy would be meeting us here,” Felix says as they come out into the arrivals
section.
There are people waiting, some with signs, some already waving as family members and
friends come through. Felix narrows his eyes and points at a man in a suit, a black mask and
a sign in his hands that says ‘Gods Menu’ in English.
They’re taken outside where a van awaits them. Jeongin climbs into the back and makes a
point of taking the window seat so he can watch the scenery pass them by. Minho and Jisung
are already planning the first few days (apparently spas are non-negotiable for Minho and
Jisung wants at least one day at the beach) Felix is chatting away with Seungmin about
important English phrases he might need to know.
In the back, Hyunjin and Jeongin watch as the van rolls out of the airport and into the streets.
Jeongin is enthralled. He’s never been to Hawaii before. He takes in everything with wide
eyes as he leans so close to the window his nose bumps against the glass. The trees, the cars,
the houses, everything is so different.
In the seat in front of him, Felix leans in and blows on the window, creating a small foggy
circle. He then draws a happy face and laughs as Jeongin leans his finger out to give the face
eyebrows. They both end up fogging the window up, expanding the fog more so they can add
ears, hair and a tiny body.
By the time the van finally stops, they’ve created a hideous creature on the window.
“I’ll call it Changbin,” Felix announces as he picks his bag up and starts ambling out of the
van. “That’s where he can live for the next week until he joins us.”
Jeongin catches the slight tone of worry in Felix’s voice and it almost catches him off guard.
Since they left for the airport, Felix has been the loudest one of all of them. The most excited,
the happiest but in that second, Jeongin looks at him and realises it’s actually a ruse. Felix
can’t hide the worry in his voice or in his eyes and not having Chan or Changbin there with
him is throwing him off more than anyone else.
Hyunjin trails after them and notes the way Jeongin pats Felix’s shoulder. He clicks his
tongue in annoyance and follows them out of the van.
“Okay, room assignments,” Jisung announces when they get to the reception desk. He holds
up a piece of paper. “Chan booked out really nice hotel rooms but we gotta share. Two to a
room.”
“Obviously you’re with Minho,” Seungmin comments. “Nobody wants either of you two
coming into our rooms to fuck all night.”
“Yes, please stick to your room,” Hyunjin adds dryly.
“Innie, you’re with Hyunjin,” Jisung says. “Seungmin and Fe, you two together and when
Chan and Changbin get here...oh.”
Felix leans in to peer at the paper in Jisung’s hand but before he can look, Jisung hides it
against his chest.
“What?” Felix asks.
“Nothing, Chan and Changbin will get here next week and the rooms might change a little.
Maybe Binnie will have had enough of Chan by that point, who knows.”
He turns to deal with the receptionist and comes back with six cards for three rooms.
“I’m dying for a shower,” Minho groans as the group trudge towards the elevator.
“Something about planes, you get off them feeling disgusting.”
“Ah, that’s all the recycled air,” Seungmin chips in helpfully. “The flight was approximately
nine hours so we just spent nine hours soaking in everyone else’s breath.”
Minho winces. “Charming.”
“I say we shower, rest for a bit and meet up for dinner later?” Jisung suggests. “There’s this
really good skewer restaurant nearby that Chan kept recommending and it’s supposed to cool
down later so the humidity shouldn’t be too horrible.”
“Meet up at six in the lobby,” Felix nods in agreement.
They’re all on the thirteenth floor. When the elevators open, the first thing Jeongin sees is the
large balcony offering a view of the ocean. Below is a long stretch of sand and beach just in
front of the hotel. Two hallways left and right lead to the bedrooms and when Hyunjin takes a
left, Jeongin follows close behind him.
Hyunjin taps his card against room 1304 and when the door opens with a quiet click, they’re
shown a large room with two king sized single beds on either side. There’s a small
kitchenette, a TV installed against the wall and a tiny fridge underneath a desk. A door to the
left leads to the bathroom and a wide window right at the end of the room with sliding doors
offers the same view of the ocean.
Jeongin makes a point of dropping his bags and racing to the bed closest to the window. He
jumps and flops onto it with a relieved groan.
“I need a shower,” he groans, his face muffled in the pillow as he kicks his shoes off. “I need
a shower but I’m too lazy to move.”
He feels Hyunjin’s hand tapping his butt before a weight settles onto his bed. To make room,
he squirms away, rolling on his side to face the window as Hyunjin curls into his back.
He feels Hyunjin’s hand on his belly. His fingers tap Jeongin’s shirt innocently before
slipping under to feel skin. Jeongin’s eyes flutter as those hands slide up his stomach to his
chest. Then they find his left nipple and pinch until his breath hitches.
“Think the walls are soundproof?” Hyunjin mutters, his lips moving against the back of
Jeongin’s neck.
Jeongin laughs. “I hope so. Minho and Han are nearby.”
“Well if they’re not, we’re just gonna have to be louder,” Hyunjin mutters, causing Jeongin to
laugh harder.
His laugh is cut abruptly short when Hyunjin’s thin fingers pinch again. Jeongin feels a zing
of arousal zip right through him, his breath comes in short as he rests his hand atop Hyunjin’s
and pushes himself back into the other.
He can feel Hyunjin’s lips pulling into a smirk against his skin.
“That was easy,” Hyunjin teases, his lips trailing along skin as his fingers slide to the other
nipple. “Feeling a little sensitive today?”
Jeongin’s not quite sure what got into him. Maybe it’s because they’re alone in a new
country, their own hotel room and he’s still a little tired from the flight but he’s feeling raw
enough that it really doesn’t take much for Hyunjin to get him in the mood.
His hand reaches behind himself, feeling Hyunjin’s waist as Hyunjin starts pressing small,
biting kisses to the back of his neck. Jeongin keeps moving, pressing his backside into
Hyunjin’s crotch and he knows he’s affecting the other when Hyunjin starts panting harder
against his neck, his hands now moving down Jeongin’s stomach to feel his crotch.
Hyunjin licks Jeongin’s ear. “Still want that shower?”
“I want this more,” Jeongin pants as his fingers start working on Hyunjin’s belt.
Hyunjin helps him out, he pulls the belt away and pulls Jeongin’s pants and underwear down
to his knees. Jeongin doesn’t even realise what Hyunjin’s doing until he feels Hyunjin’s wet,
long fingers sliding into him already. Gasping, Jeongin grabs the pillow for something to
keep him sane. He’s about to put his face in it when Hyunjin uses his other hand to rip it
away.
“Uh, uh,” he mutters against Jeongin’s ear. “You’re gonna be loud, we need to test the walls.”
Jeongin shivers, he feels Hyunjin’s arm around his chest, bracing him as fingers ruthlessly
stab until he sees stars.
“F-Fuck,” he gasps, his hands grabbing Hyunjin’s arm to brace himself.
Hyunjin won’t let him roll onto his stomach, he keeps him on his side and Jeongin is helpless.
Hyunjin’s hot breath heats his ear, one arm underneath him is wrapped around his chest and
holding his shoulder, the other is stabbing into him so hard but Jeongin shivers every single
time.
When Hyunjin finally pulls his hand away, Jeongin whimpers and reaches a hand back to
clutch Hyunjin’s hip. He feels the push of Hyunjin’s cock against his entrance and keens, a
high pitched, helpless whine echoing in the room as Hyunjin pushes them together.
“One day before we leave, I’m gonna fuck you against that window with the curtains wide
open,” Hyunjin promises with a kiss to his ear.
He thrusts and Jeongin throws his head back to moan.
In the next room, Felix and Seungmin lie on their beds and stare at the ceiling in silent
unison. Their room, like the others, consists of two king sized singles positioned on either
side of the room.
They find out fairly quickly that Seungmin’s side of the room is closest to Jeongin and
Hyunjin right next door. Felix’s side is right next to Jisung and Minho on the other side.
They’re the ones who find out the walls are thin.
“Hyunjin’s neighbours must hate him,” Seungmin comments. He can hear the bed hitting the
wall repeatedly to Jeongin’s moaning.
“Well I already met Han’s neighbours,” Felix mutters, he can hear the two going at it on the
other end and he suspects, given the rhythm of the bumping against the wall, that the two
decided to forgo the bed and just fuck against the wall instead. “They’re old and blessedly
deaf.”
Seungmin chuckles and shakes his head. “How the hell are we gonna survive them for the
next week? If Hyunjin keeps this up, I might actually castrate him.”
“It just makes me feel lonely,” Felix confesses. “I can sleep through this just fine.”
“That makes one of us, I’m still on the whole castration idea,” Seungmin mutters as he
pushes himself up to a sitting position. “What’s the time?”
“Half past four.”
“Do you think they mean to fuck all the way to six?”
“Probably.”
“Fuck,” Seungmin says as he pushes himself to his feet. “Let’s go get drunk or something,
this hotel has a bar on the second floor.”
Felix can hear Jisung calling Minho his ‘kitten’ and winces. He pushes himself to his feet and
hops over to latch on Seungmin’s arm instead. “You buying?”
“So long as I’m too drunk to hear the fuck-a-thon that’s about to happen all week, sure,”
Seungmin shrugs. A thought occurs to him as he’s leading Felix out of their room. “Think
Chan deliberately put us between them?”
“Probably.”
“Prick.”
Felix’s giggles echo down the hall as he follows Seungmin to the elevator and down to the
bar.
“Did you really stick Felix and Seungmin between the couples?” Changbin asks as he walks
into Chan’s office.
Chan is standing, hunched over his desk, his hands sifting through files and drawers in search
of something. He looks up and for a moment, he looks temporarily confused until Changbin
lifts his phone to show him a scathing message from Seungmin.
“Their room is right between the couples,” Changbin explains, looking a little bemused.
“Hyunjin and Innie and Han and Minho are busy fucking away. Felix and Seungmin’s room
is right between them, did you do that deliberately?”
“Ah,” Chan chuckles. “No I didn’t but now that you mention it, that’s pretty funny.”
He goes back to sifting through his drawer and Changbin frowns.
“Whatcha looking for?”
“Painkillers,” Chan mutters, groaning when he obviously doesn’t find them and starts sifting
through the other drawers. “I’ve got a killer migraine.”
“Again?” Changbin asks, he can’t hide the worry in his voice as he approaches Chan. “Have
you seen a doctor about those?”
“Yeah, he said it was cluster migraines,” Chan says as he leans down to dig through the lower
drawers. “Nothing much they can do about those so I have painkillers...that I’ve somehow
managed to lose.”
Chanbin leans in. “Need me to help?”
“Nah, nah, they’re somewhere, I’ll find them later,” Chan waves it off and stands up straight.
“How’s our kkangpae-in-training?”
“He’ll make it,” Changbin nods. He takes a seat and watches Chan clean his desk from its
previous rummaging. “It’s obvious when you’re alone with him that he wasn’t born for this
role but when he’s outside of his room, he plays his role so perfectly you wouldn’t know
better.”
“So he’ll be of some use after all, good,” Chan sighs as he sits down and rubs his face.
Changbin notices. “Hey, do you want me to go out and get you some painkillers or
something?”
“I’ll be alright, I promise,” Chan says with a small, pained smile. “I need you to go look after
Dovey, stay next to him and make sure he settles as the head of Wolgang. When the time
comes, my father is going to need his support.”
Changbin blinks. “...Dovey?”
“Yep, not safe to say his name aloud,” Chan smirks. “Go on, Lovey.”
Changbin huffs, he flips him off but there’s still a small smile on his face as he gets up and
heads out. When he’s gone, Chan’s phone goes off, clattering loudly on the wood of his desk.
He groans in pain as he reaches one hand out and puts it on speaker.
“Chan speaking.”
“You gave me a credit card with a limit?!”
Great. Perfect. Just what he needed during a migraine. Chan grits his teeth as he gets up to
walk towards the light switch and flick it off. “Kaeun,” he sighs as he goes back to his desk in
the dark. “What hellspawn did I piss off to get you calling me today?”
“You gave me a credit card with a limit I’ll max in one day,” Kaeun hisses. “I want a limitless
credit card!”
“I’m not paying for you before I’ve married you,” Chan replies, his voice decidedly calm as
he sits back down at his desk. “Limit your spending, you’re not even my wife yet. The credit
card was a courtesy.”
“You can’t run from this marriage, Chan,” Kaeun says, hatred dripping from her tone. “And
my father won’t financially back yours until this marriage is sealed.”
“I have no intention of running from this marriage but I have no obligation to pay for you just
yet,” Chan replies as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “And before you go on to tell me that
your precious daddy wouldn’t like the way I’m treating you, just remember that your
precious daddy is the one who suggested this marriage in the first place.”
There’s silence on the other end for a moment. Long enough for Chan to realise that Kaeun
didn’t know that. He glances at his phone and frowns.
“Did he not tell you that?”
More silence, Chan taps his desk with his finger. “Kaeun.”
“He didn’t,” Kaeun answers quietly. “He just told me one day that I’d be marrying you.”
“It was his idea,” Chan enlightens, albeit a little gentler than before. “When I approached him
about an alliance for my father, he was the one who listed this marriage as his condition. My
guess is, he couldn’t wait to get rid of you.”
More silence. Chan knows he probably should be more sympathetic to her situation
considering she did absolutely nothing to deserve it but he has a headache already and she’s
not making it any better. That and this display of raw surprise is temporary, it’s in Kaeun’s
very nature to cover whatever she feels with a cold, unfeeling exterior.
Despite knowing damn well that it’s a well-crafted defense mechanism (all these rich kids
have defense mechanisms like this) Chan knew damn well that any sympathy he could show
would be promptly shoved back in his face.
Finally, she speaks.
“When we’re married, I want a limitless card,” she says, her voice cold again.
“I’ll give you whatever you want, so long as you stay out of my hair,” Chan tells her. “But
until then, practice frugality. It’s character building.”
A snort, at least he got her to laugh. Albeit cynically.
Chan feels a throb in his head, his vision blurs for a moment and he has to close his eyes. “If
that was all, I’ll be hanging up now. I have work to do.”
“Yes, fine,” Kaeun huffs. “I’m still not happy about the card but you better keep your word
about the limitless one once we’re married.”
“Like I said, so long as it keeps you out of my hair, I don’t give a fuck,” Chan groans, he
grabs his phone and hovers his finger over the red disconnect button. “If that was all?”
“Yes, fine.”
“Bye,” Chan says and with a click, she’s gone.
He drops his phone and buries his head in his hands with a pained groan. In the blessed
darkness and silence of his office, he’s left alone in peace.
At night, the temperature drops a little with the humidity. By the time the group finishes with
dinner, the walk back to the hotel is pleasantly warm but not suffocating. Jeongin giggles as
he wanders along the pavement. The skewers had been tasty but the alcohol had been better.
As he walks, Felix attaches himself to his side, the two are just as drunk as each other as they
stumble their way back to the hotel.
Walking a few paces behind them, Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. Especially when Felix makes a
point of leaning in to whisper something in Jeongin’s ear. The two crack up, barely able to
stand as they laugh and lean on each other.
“You’re remarkably calm about this,” Seungmin comments dryly.
Hyunjin shrugs. “I’m plotting Felix’s death in my head,” he replies, deadpan.
“Uh huh, sure,” Seungmin drawls.
Hyunjin is about to bite back when Jisung jumps out of the restaurant with Minho close
behind him.
“Guys, guys, guys, look!” he exclaims excitedly.
Jeongin follows his pointed finger to the view of the beach. The moon is bare in the sky,
perfectly reflected upon the black waters. The long stretch of sand is empty and inviting.
Minho jumps onto Jisung’s back and points towards the beach.
“Go, go, go!”
Jisung laughs and takes off across the road with Minho. It takes all of one second for Felix
and Jeongin to run after them. Hyunjin and Seungmin exchange long-suffering looks before
begrudgingly following them. If only to make sure the drunk boys don’t drown themselves in
the sea.
Jeongin takes his shoes and socks off. He sinks his toes in the sand and groans at the feeling.
Next to him, Felix is already pulling his pant legs up to his knees and pulling his shirt off.
Jisung has already forgotten about public indecency, he’s down to his underwear as he rushes
into the water and groans at the feeling of the cool water against his skin.
Minho, however, stopped on the sand.
“Come on, baby,” Jisung calls. “The water is nice and cold.”
Minho bristles. “You know I don’t like swimming.”

Hyunjin arrives just in time to see Felix taking Jeongin’s hand and rushing them both towards
the water. He rolls his eyes and sits next to their abandoned clothes, watching as Jeongin
shrieks when Felix splashes him but he’s laughing and splashing back.
Seungmin settles next to him. For a moment, the two watch Jeongin and Felix playing in the
sea. Seungmin then glances at Hyunjin and tilts his head. “Think something’s going on
between them?”
Hyunjin doesn’t answer, he keeps his eyes on Jeongin and he can’t help but appreciate the
way Jeongin’s insecurities and inhibitions drop with just a bit of alcohol. He’s nowhere near
the nervous wreck he’d been when he first came into the restaurant but there’s something
quite endearing about the way he acts when alcohol takes away the remnants of his nerves.
When he no longer cares about anyone seeing through him, when he doesn’t feel the need to
pretend to keep up appearances and it’s just him.
He turns his eyes to Seungmin and narrows his eyes. “What are you doing?”
Seungmin blinks at him. “What?”
“You’re trying to fuck with me, why?” Hyunjin asks. “You did that last time when you told
Jeongin I’d slept with Felix.”
“Because you did sleep with Felix,” Seungmin points out. “Did you lie to him?”
“I played with Felix, I didn’t fuck him,” Hyunjin corrects him. “And back to my original
question. Why? Were you hoping to piss me off enough to kill you?”
“Maybe I’ve lost the will to live and having you kill me would be some fucked up form of
poetic justice,” Seungmin shrugs. “Maybe I dream of dying with your hands wrapped around
my neck.”
“Maybe I should have done that the day you told me you were leaving Busan.”
Seungmin just shrugs, apathetic even in the face of a blunt death threat. Hyunjin watches him
a moment longer before turning his bored eyes back to Jeongin. Silence passes over them for
a few seconds before his arm comes up. It drapes over Seungmin’s shoulders and pulls him
closer.
Seungmin tenses. “What are you doing?”
Hyunjin doesn’t answer. He just keeps his arm around Seungmin. He keeps it there until
Seungmin stops trying to wriggle himself out and instead just leans into his side.
The way he used to.
They don’t say anything, they make a point of not looking at each other too but Hyunjin’s
arm doesn’t leave Seungmin’s shoulders.
Out in the water, Jeongin wades out until the water reaches his neck. He closes his eyes,
spreads his arms out and breathes a sigh of relief. After the heat of the day and the flight, the
water is like heaven. Somewhere near him, he can hear Felix making the same relieved
sound.
It’s like a weight has lifted from his shoulders. They’re somewhere else, no one knows them,
there isn’t the constant threat of kkangpae or police finding out what they’d done. It’s just
them, just six guys in their late teens and early twenties, enjoying freedom in another country.
It’s just nice.
“I miss Chan,” Felix confesses. “And Binnie.”
Jeongin glances at him. “They’ll be here next week.”
“Still one whole week of being in Busan when it’s not safe to be there right now,” Felix
winces. “Chan’s like...he’s like home to me. You know what I mean? I don’t feel comfortable
when he’s not around but when he is, I just feel safe. I feel like I’m home.”
Jeongin thinks back to how Chan had stayed with him in Seoul. How he kept getting food to
make sure Jeongin ate, how he accompanied him back and forth from the hotel to the hospital
and how tightly Jeongin had clung to him when his mother died. It had been a similar feeling
for him too. Someone was there, someone safe, someone who knew what he was about and
wasn’t going to shove him in an asylum for it.
Chan read him, didn’t judge him and supported silently. Right to the bitter end.
Even for him, the group doesn’t feel the same without Changbin and Chan. He swims over to
Felix and puts a hand on his shoulder and when Felix turns and wraps his arms around
Jeongin’s shoulders, Jeongin is frozen in surprise for a few seconds.
It’s hardly the first time Felix has hugged him (Felix has to be the most affectionate, touch-
starved person Jeongin has ever met) but it still surprises him just how warm Felix is to him.
The fact that he’d told him a secret still echoes in Jeongin’s brain every now and then.
Chan’s my brother. He’s my brother.
He holds Felix gently, feeling his tight embrace and when Felix finally pulls away, they both
look up to see Jisung isn’t in the water anymore. He’s joined Minho on the sand instead and
the two are sitting side by side. Whispering into each other’s ears and giggling at a joke no
one else can hear.
Felix tilts his head. “What are the chances that those two are gonna fuck on the beach at least
once before we leave?”
“100%” Jeongin answers without missing a beat. “This is like a honeymoon.”

“They could technically get married here,” Felix shrugs. “It’s legal here. Wouldn’t be
recognised back home but they could - if they wanted to - get married here.”
“In two weeks?” Jeongin laughs.
Felix just grins. “It would be a shotgun wedding. But they totally do it here.”
Eventually they have to get out of the sea before Minho and Jisung actually do start fucking
on the beach. Together, the half-drunk group amble back to the hotel. They get a lot of long
looks as they stumble in, giggling and sopping wet.
Somehow they manage to get up to their floor and they’re pretty loud as they say their
goodbyes and wander into their rooms.
“You didn’t get drunk with me,” Jeongin whines as Hyunjin locks the door and guides him to
the bathroom. “Why not?”
“Because one of us has to make sure we get back to the hotel in one piece?” Hyunjin
answers, his hands already pulling Jeongin out of his wet clothes. With one hand he tugs
Jeongin’s shirt off and with the other, he’s fiddling with the shower nozzle until the water is
warm enough.
“Boring,” Jeongin huffs, obediently stepping out of his pants once Hyunjin’s pushed them
down far enough. “It’s more fun when we’re drunk together, or stoned together.”
He gets a hint of a smile before Hyunjin pushes him gently under the spray of the warm
water. Jeongin sighs in relief and leans into it. He doesn’t even notice he’s not alone in the
shower until Hyunjin steps in, fully naked and wraps an arm around Jeongin to keep him up.
“Stay awake, I need to clean you,” he mutters. Jeongin just whines and stays still as Hyunjin
points the nozzle at his hair and starts thoroughly rinsing it.
Jeongin’s inebriated mind wanders. He can feel Hyunjin’s hands in his hair, pushing the
shampoo through and he’s happy enough to just lean into him and let the other clean him.
“Felix said they do shotgun weddings here,” he comments sleepily.
Hyunjin snorts. “If that’s your way of proposing to me, I’m gonna say no.”
“Not us,” Jeongin giggles, whacking him in the arm as he goes. “Minho and Han, they could
totally get married here.”
“As if they need more reasons to be the most sickening couple in the group,” Hyunjin mutters
under his breath as he pulls the nozzle away and starts working the conditioner into Jeongin’s
hair.
Jeongin leans in. If he could purr, he would have. Hyunjin’s fingers are like heaven against
his scalp, he’s surprisingly gentle with his hair. Jeongin touches Hyunjin’s chest, his fingers
drifting harmlessly over wet skin and he sighs. “I feel safe with you.”
A snort. “What’s this now?”
“Felix,” Jeongin continues. “He said he doesn’t feel safe or comfortable unless Chan’s near
him. Well I don’t feel safe or comfortable when you’re not around either. Thought you should
know.”
Hyunjin falls quiet for a moment and Jeongin’s too drunk to overthink why. He has no filter
tonight and he doesn’t even realise it. But when he feels the water back on his hair, washing
away the conditioner, he leans into it again and the conversation flies out of his head.
Hyunjin cleans them both. He helps Jeongin out of the shower and he dries him off with a
towel. All the while, Jeongin is happy enough to let him.
When they’re finally clean, dry and dressed in hotel robes, they wander to Jeongin’s bed and
sit down.
“Little troublemaker,” Hyunjin huffs, his hand pushing Jeongin’s locks back from his face.
“You’re not gonna spend this whole trip drunk, are you? I told you, I’m not gonna fuck you if
you’re drunk.”
Jeongin snorts and starts giggling. “The ruthless murderer has boundaries?” he teases. “What
if I beg?”
“You’re drunk, you’re not in any state of mind to say yes or no to me. I’m not fucking you,”
Hyunjin states as he pushes Jeongin to lie down on his bed. “Now sleep it off, I’ll get you
some water.”
He leaves for the kitchenette and Jeongin immediately holds his arms out. He’s too drunk to
try pushing himself up into a sitting position so he just kind of lies on the bed with his arms
out.
“Hyunjiiin,” he whines. “Hyunjin don’t leave meeee…”
Hyunjin comes back, a glass of water in hand. He places it on the bedside table and leans
down to help Jeongin sit up. He then places the glass at his lips.
“Drink it,” he orders lightly. “Hangovers are caused by dehydration so drink it.”
Jeongin winces. “But I’m not dehydrated,” he argues. “I drank the seawater.”
Hyunjin clicks his tongue in annoyance before pulling Jeongin’s mouth open. He pours the
water in and at first, Jeongin coughs but he quickly recovers and drinks the rest down.
Hyunjin puts the empty glass down and pushes Jeongin back down on the bed.
“Babysitting on my first night, you’re terrible, Innie.”

“Don’t leave,” Jeongin pleads, both his hands latching onto Hyunjin’s arm as though he’d
disappear that very second. “My bed is tiny but you can stay here.”
“You starfish when you sleep,” Hyunjin points out. “We barely have enough space with the
double bed, you’re gonna push me off the single.”
“I won’t push you off this time.”
“Uh huh, because what you do when you’re unconscious is totally within your control.”
Jeongin pouts and apparently it’s enough because Hyunjin groans. He flicks the lights off,
takes his robe off and pulls at the blankets.
“Scoot over.”
Happy and placated, Jeongin rolls right to the edge of the bed. He lies on his side and looks
out the wide window, admiring the way the light of the moon shines down on the sea. He
feels Hyunjin slide into the bed and lie behind him. The blankets are pulled back in place
before Hyunjin’s arm slides over his side again. Hyunjin’s warmth heats his back, his lips at
the back of his neck and if Jeongin could purr, he would.
The sound of the waves lull them both to sleep.
Chan pinches the bridge of his nose in a moment of solitude. The elevator still has thirteen
more floors to rise through and he knows too well that the security watching him won’t judge
him for taking a moment to himself.
Visiting his father has never been a favourite past time but perhaps even less so now that the
presidential elections are coming up. With his name put forward as an official candidate, he
needs sufficient backing and although Chan has done everything in his power to secure
enough party votes to secure him in the running, there’s still no guarantee it’s going to work.
There’s never any guarantee it’ll work and it’s the grey area between secure and insecure that
has Chan stressing beyond belief. Because if this fails and his father doesn’t get put through,
the one who suffers most will be him.
He checks over his suit once more before the doors open to reveal a grand office. It’s almost
circular in shape, the walls decked with endless bookshelves filled with dusty, thick books no
one reads. In the centre of the hub is a grand mahogany desk with gold linings. The floor is
polished marble and it echoes as Chan steps in.
A grandiose, overblown image of importance.
“Christopher,” a deep voice speaks.

Every time Chan looks at his father, he sees an older version of himself and he doesn’t like it.
Mayor Bang is a little taller, a little bigger under his overpriced suits. He has resting bitch
face and unfortunately, it shows all the time. His face is almost always in a permanent scowl,
like he’s constantly disappointed with life and with his son.
Still, Chan’s legs move on autopilot as he stands before him and bows as he’s meant to.
“Father.”
Mayor Bang sniffs and walks to his window. “How are preparations? Do we have enough
supporters?”
“You do,” Chan replies, straightening again as he watches the brick wall that is his father’s
back. “As I’m sure you know, because it’s an internal vote, nothing can be guaranteed.”
Another sniff. “Not if you didn’t convince all of them.”
Chan bites back an obvious comment that he can’t gather all of the congressmen because
some of them really are untouchable. He can lock the easier ones in the freezer with Hyunjin
but the more important ones, he can’t touch and he knows it. His father knows it too, he just
doesn’t care.
“You will also have the support of Jung Wooyoung, that is Moon Jaeyoung’s son and heir,”
Chan points out. “Which will be useful for financial ends-”
“Speaking of which, how are plans for your upcoming wedding?” his father cuts in sharply.
“Don’t think you can wiggle out of it, Christopher.”
“I’m not trying to wiggle out of it,” Chan assures him and as much as he would love to, he’s
not. He knows this is something he has to do, he really doesn’t want to but he has to.
“Weddings don’t just happen overnight.”
“Don’t talk like a poor person, you know that money shifts everything,” Mayor Bang snaps.
“The sooner you marry that girl, the sooner I can finalize my contract with her father. Make it
a priority. Marry her and get her pregnant to seal the deal.”
Chan suppresses a physical reaction to the thought of impregnating anyone. Especially

Kaeun. He bites the inside of his cheek and manages a stoic nod instead.
“Make it public too,” Mayor Bang continues. “I don’t want her father slipping out of any
deal.”
“Yes father.”
Mayor Bang turns to look at his son and Chan is an expert at keeping his emotions off his
face. Especially in front of him. It’s almost an art by now. How he’s learnt ever since he was
a child not to show this man anything for fear he’d take it and use it against him.
And oh, there are so many things Mayor Bang would use to hurt his son if he only knew
about them. If he ever figured out who Chan loved, who he protected, how much all his staff
meant to him, Mayor Bang would use it to keep his son in line.
“Is there another reason you’re holding this wedding off?” he asks, his eyes scanning Chan’s
face. “Someone?”
“No, father,” Chan answers blankly.
Mayor Bang approaches him and Chan meets his eyes head on. He stares for a good minute,
as if he can dig out Chan’s secrets by looking straight into his eyes. After a moment, he pulls
away with a disappointed huff and walks back to the window.
“Marry her,” he orders. “And those votes better come through, too much is riding on this,
Chan.”
Chan nods. He closes his eyes and represses the urge to fidget. He hates these meetings.
There’s nothing said here that his father can’t simply tell him over the phone but for some
reason, the man insists on these meetings. Face to face, at least once a month, just to strike
the fear of god in Chan should he ever fail him.
The worst part is that he can never get used to them.
“That’s all.”
Chan bows again and turns on his heel. He leaves the room and it’s not until he’s back in the
elevator that he exhales a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding. He leans back
against the wall and closes his eyes as he feels a wave of tension suddenly leaving his body,
leaving him feeling drained, sore and empty.
He looks up at the security camera, waves once and exits the elevator once it hits the ground
floor.
Daddy issues aside, things are actually proceeding nicely. The riots in Busan have actually
calmed down since Changbin and Wooyoung started taking firmer control over Wolgang Pa.
He walks out of the building and into the car waiting for him. Once he gets into the back, he
pulls his phone out and taps a number he doesn’t often call.
It takes four rings for the man on the other end to finally answer him.
“S-sir?”
“Answer me faster next time,” Chan says. “How’s the vote looking?”
“You know I can’t-”
“Don’t bullshit me, Congressman,” Chan cuts in firmly. “Remember the freezer? Remember
watching those two getting it on covered in a pool of your friends blood? I can do it again in
a heartbeat, now stop fucking me about and tell me how the numbers are. I spared you
because you could be useful, if you’re not useful, I’ll put you back in that freezer.”
“Okay, okay,” the man stammers. “I...um...the numbers are...steady. Not secure.”
Chan nods, he pinches the bridge of his nose again and leans back in his seat. “How many
more votes does he need?”
“...two.”
Chan thinks through the people responsible for those votes and there’s a small bunch of them
he’s not allowed to touch. The ones he can reach for, he’s already threatened, bribed and
coerced into agreeing. An extra two won’t be impossible but it won’t be easy either.
“Very well, I’ll sort it,” Chan says after a moment of silence. “Be good and if you’re anything
but, I’ll hear about it long before you can protect yourself and your family. Understood?”
“Yes sir.”
Chan cuts the call out and flicks through his contacts. He lands on a name and looks out the
window as he hits the call button.
It takes two rings for the man on the other end to pick up.
“What can I do for you now?”
“I have a million questions for you, Chief Yang,” Chan says, cutting straight to business as he
watches the city pass by his window. “Starting with: Where the hell were you when we were
taking your wife off life support?”
Silence. He expected nothing less than that. He gives the chief a minute to answer but when
he doesn’t, Chan answers for him. “Aww Chief. Don’t tell me you were too heartbroken to
come see your wife dying. That you were too torn with grief that you deliberately ignored
Jeongin’s calls knowing what he was trying to call about.”
Another moment of silence and Chan scoffs. “Don’t make me say it aloud, it’s too pathetic.”
“What do you want?”
“I want your position, your influence and your assurance that you know better than to
knowingly put your son in danger,” Chan replies. “I want your vote.”
“My…” it takes about a minute but when he finally understands what Chan is after, he
laughs. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Put a word in for my father and I won’t send your son to you in a pie,” Chan replies calmly.
“After all, he’s all you’ve got left, isn’t he? Now that your wife is dead. The one and only
love of your life whom you’ve never cheated on.”
More silence and Chan grins. The wording wasn’t to tease, it was deliberate and Chief Yang
understands immediately what he’s implying.
“How old is she? Pretty little thing, can’t be older than eighteen,” Chan hums. “I can send
you a picture of her, she’s very pretty. What position were you doing it in when your wife
died?”
“Stop.”
“Oh don’t tell me she’s younger than eighteen, Chief Yang you naughty thing,” Chan teases.
“Come on, how old? Seventeen? Sixteen?”
“Stop!”
“Fifteen,” Chan says and it’s not a guess. The second he found out what Chief Yang had been
doing, it took all of one minute to find out everything about his secret mistress. He doesn’t
know the details and, frankly, he doesn’t want to know. She’s blackmail enough.
“I’m willing to bet your son doesn’t know. After all, that’s why I stopped him from trying to
call you before we took your wife off life support.”
“Please.”
“Your vote, Chief Yang.”
“I-”
The car pulls to a stop and Chan flicks to speaker. He puts his phone down and leans over to
open his door as a girl wearing a white dress climbs in. She is a pretty little thing. Long, curly
brown locks, big doe eyes. Strangely enough she looks like what Chan imagines Jeongin’s
mother used to look like.
“Hi,” he grins. “You must be Yuki.”
The girl seems quite happy to be here, in the attentions of someone as influential, rich and
famous as Chan. She bounces a little in her seat as Chan picks his phone up and holds it out
to her. “Say hello.”
Yuki looks a little confused but she glances at the phone and leans in. “Hello?”
“Yuki!” Chief Yang yelps.
Yuki doesn’t have time to look surprised because in one split second, Chan brings the phone
back to his ear and with his other hand, he pulls out a gun and points it at her. Her scream is
loud enough that Chief Yang hears it on the other end.
“Sit still like a good girl and you’ll come out of this alive,” Chan tells her before he turns
back to his phone. “Once you’ve voted correctly, you get her back.”
“Don’t hurt her.”
Chan laughs and Yuki is starting to cry. She’s paralyzed with fear, her hands up as she stares
at the gun he’s pointing at her face.
“You know, up until now I thought my father was the worst piece of shit in the world, you’re
in a league all your own, Chief Yang,” he giggles. “Let me know how the vote goes.”
With that he hangs up and taps the roof of the car to get it moving again. He turns his
attention back to Yuki who is still staring at the barrel of the gun. Chan pulls it back and slips
it back into its holster.
“Be a good girl,” he says, turning his eyes back to the window. “You’re not fat enough to
make a decent meal, at best I can use you as a toothpick.”
His phone buzzes and when he checks, he sees a picture from Felix. It’s a selfie of him on the
beach, in the background is Seungmin and Jisung trying to pull Minho into the water. He
feels a small tug, a little reminder of why he does the things he does. To protect them, he’d
shoot this poor girl in the face without hesitation.
“Please,” Yuki cries.
Chan watches the photo and takes a deep breath. “Just do as I say and everything will work
out,” he tells her. “Trust me.”
Sure enough, within days he secures not only the vote of the chief but also of another
congressman the chief had talked into supporting Mayor Bang.
Chan releases Yuki the very next day with a warning for Chief Yang: You have no secrets.
Cross me again and you’ll find out just how much I know about you. C. Bang.
Kicking the door of a lovely little seaside cottage open, Hyunjin looks down at the little
boston terrier sitting in front of him and growling. He whistles and points to the floor, behind
him Jeongin watches as the dog whimpers and lies down obediently. Hyunjin seems to be
terrifying.
The cottage is pretty small, one bedroom, one bathroom, one sitting room that overlooks the
beachfront. It’s a getaway holiday home for the rich and corrupt.
“Here I was thinking this was a holiday,” Jeongin mutters as he follows Hyunjin into the
house.
Hyunjin snorts and heads over to the kitchen table. He picks up a stack of letters and looks
through them.
“Unopened. He hasn’t been here in awhile.”
“Then who put the letters there?” Jeongin asks as he bends down to pet the poor dog. It’s still
shaking a little from the sight of Hyunjin.
“Landlord probably?” Hyunjin shrugs as he looks around. “Same guy who feeds the dog.”
Jeongin leaves the dog alone and joins Hyunjin in the kitchen. He checks the fridge and it’s
empty. The house looks a little dusty too, whoever comes here to look after the dog probably
does just that and takes off again.
He looks down when he feels a nudge at his ankles. The dog has followed him and is
nuzzling into his leg, whimpering a little as it gazes up at him.
“Aww, can I keep it?”
“No,” Hyunjin answers bluntly. He walks towards the bedroom. “Put it down, we’re not
keeping the dog.”
“But it’s been neglected!” Jeongin exclaims and he can’t help himself. He picks the dog up
and it immediately starts licking his face in gratitude. He feels his heart melt even as he runs
after Hyunjin. “Please? I’ll look after it.”
“Putting aside the fact that bringing an animal back from the US to South Korea is a pain in
the ass, where do you think we’re going to keep a dog like that in my tiny apartment?”
Hyunjin asks as he goes around sifting through the drawers.
“There’s space,” Jeongin insists.
He’s just about to say something else when the tiniest sound outside stops them both. Jeongin
looks up and the dog in his arms starts squirming until he lets it go. They both watch as it
runs towards the door and starts barking happily. Hyunjin moves Jeongin behind him and
when a man comes into the living room, he gets all of two seconds blissful ignorance before a
loud bang pierces his kneecap.
With a scream, he falls to the floor and looks up to see Hyunjin and Jeongin coming into the
room. The smoking gun in Hyunjin’s hand is aimed at his other leg.
“What serendipitous timing,” Hyunjin comments as Jeongin leans down to take the dog
again. “Here I thought you’d pulled a runner.”
The man on the ground is in his late fifties, round and both in pain and confused as he stares
at the two of them and tries to remember why he could deserve a shot to the leg like this.
Jeongin hugs the dog to his chest and looks at Hyunjin. “Look, it likes me! Can we keep him?
Can we, can we, can we?”
“No, put the dog down,” Hyunjin replies before he turns his attention back to the man on the
floor. “You seem confused so allow me to enlighten you, you owe Bang Chan a lot of
money.”
It clicks. They both see the realisation in his eyes before it’s quickly replaced by absolute
terror as the gravity of his situation dawns on him. Jeongin puts the dog down and sees the
smile grow on Hyunjin’s face.
“There he is,” Hyunjin purrs. “Did you really think you could outrun him?”
“Please,” the man pleads, wincing as the blood from his leg starts trickling down to the floor.
“I’ll pay him, I’ll do anything-”
“Anything?” Hyunjin asks, a sadistic gleam in his eyes as he keeps the gun trained on the
other knee.
“Anything, please!” the man screams. “I don’t want to die.”
“Dance.”
The man stares and Hyunjin fires a warning shot near his leg. “I said dance. Get up on both
feet and dance, Innie put some music on for him.”
Jeongin shrugs and pulls his phone out, flicking through his playlist as the poor man struggles
to get up. He puts the slightest weight on his injured leg and screams in pain when it gives
way almost immediately.
“On both feet,” Hyunjin warns. “Or I’ll shoot your other leg and still expect you to stand
straight.”
“I can’t-”
Another shot, this time deliberately missing the man and hitting the couch instead.
“Did I mention I hate repeating myself?” Hyunjin asks. “Dance, fat man.”
Jeongin’s phone starts a tune, he turns the volume up and Hyunjin’s greedy eyes watch as the
man sweats in obvious pain. He tries to move, to at least wiggle his hips and lean most of his
weight on his uninjured leg but every time he puts the slightest weight on his other leg, he
can’t help but scream in pain.
Let the hair stand up
On my shoulders when you open your mouth
The man is trying his hardest to move to the music. As Jeongin turns it up, his head bops to
the tune.
“Faster,” Hyunjin orders. “Move it.”
The poor man is in tears. He’s trying to move his arms, to sway to the demonically fast beat.
Every time he sways too close to leaning on his injured leg, he has to grab the couch to
stabilize himself.
'Cause if there's one thing that I mustn't fear
Is that this is permanent, this is permanent
“I’m bored,” Hyunjin sighs and a bang sounds as he shoots out the other kneecap.
The man shrieks as he falls back onto the couch. He screams, his shaking hands trying to
hold both legs still. Jeongin notices the dog sitting at the door, tail wagging as it watches its
owner writhing in pain and makes no move to go any closer to him.
That’s what he gets for neglecting it.
“I must thank you for picking an area where no one can hear you screaming and no one
knows you’re even supposed to be here,” Hyunjin says as he puts the gun away and pulls out
a switchblade instead. “I doubt anyone will miss you.”
“No, please, please!” the man screams as Hyunjin approaches him.
“Oh yes, scream!” Hyunjin goades, a psychotic glint to his eye as he points the switchblade at
him. “Scream more! No one can hear you, so scream until your lungs explode!”
“Please! I’ll do anything! Anything! You want money? I have money!” the man begs.
“Please, please!”
“I’ll be getting your money and more, don’t worry,” Hyunjin assures him as he kneels next to
the couch. “Now stay still. Innie, come here.”
Curious, Jeongin leaves his music playing on the coffee table and comes over to the couch.
He kneels down next to Hyunjin and watches as Hyunjin’s dexterous fingers flick and twirl
the blade around.
“Innie, how often were you actually at school?”
Confused, Jeongin frowns and shrugs. “Not often, I was sick a lot.”
Or rather...his mother made him sick. He waves the thought off and blinks at Hyunjin.
“Why?”
Hyunjin flicks the blade around a little more before handing it to him. “Welcome to your first
biology lesson, I’ll be your teacher.”
The man is lying on the couch and whimpering. He’s crying and shaking as both legs shudder
with a pain Jeongin can not and does not want to understand. He’s heard being shot in the
kneecaps is excruciatingly painful and this man is demonstrating just that.
Hyunjin ignores his cries and flips his shirt up to expose his belly. “Now, when we carve
meat up for the menu, there are certain areas we need to...clean out first,” he explains and
points to the right side of the hip. “Cut here and move the blade all the way to the other end.”
“No!” the man screams. He tries to move but if Hyunjin’s firm hand holding his chest down
isn’t enough, his other hand landing a well aimed punch at his bleeding kneecap sure as hell
does. His shrieks of agony echo in the room but neither Jeongin nor Hyunjin care. The dog
doesn’t even flinch.
“Oh I really wanna keep him,” Jeongin says when he notices how unaffected the dog is. “Can
I keep him, please?”
Hyunjin sighs and holds the man down. “Cut the man open, will you?”
“No! Please! No!”
Both ignore him as Jeongin leans over and places the tip of the blade against soft skin. It
sinks in, one extra push and it breaks through skin. Jeongin watches the skin surrounding the
blade, the first push of blood coating the area and the man chokes, gasping as Hyunjin holds
him still.
“Okay, now hold the blade tight and pull to the other end, here,” he instructs.
Skin doesn’t make a sound when it’s ripped like this. Instead, Jeongin finds the slightest bit
of resistance as he yanks the blade across the middle of the belly. There’s so much blood
spurting out over the couch, their legs, pooling on the floor. Still, Jeongin is determined as he
pulls the blade all the way to the other end and winces at the organs spilling out.
“Eww.”
“Intestines,” Hyunjin says pointing at the long coil of soft tissue that had fallen out and is
now dangling a little off the couch.
Jeongin puts the blade down and looks over the mess he’d made. “So, carry on, teacher.”
“We take out all of these,” Hyunjin tells him, his fingers pointing at the organs leaking out of
the large, gaping hole at the bottom of the man’s stomach. “For humans, the meaty parts are
usually fat or muscle.”
“Tastes like veal,” Jeongin recalls, a small wince as he watches the blood leaking all over the
place.
“We’re not eating this man,” Hyunjin assures him. “But one day, if Chan ever asks you to
skin and chop up a human, that’s what we’re looking for when it comes to packaging.”
Jeongin looks over the man on the couch. He’s long dead now, eyes staring up at the ceiling
in frozen horror. It strikes Jeongin as slightly odd and at the same time, not too surprising
how unfazed he is by all of this. A few months ago, he’d be in the corner hurling his guts out
and now he’s sitting next to a dead, open body and looking at organs he’s only seen in
textbooks.
It’s a little fascinating.
Hyunjin’s finger flicks at his hair and catches his attention. Jeongin glances at him to see the
other smiling at him and it’s a genuine smile too. Not the sneer or the fake smiles he normally
pulls, but the kind that reaches his eyes and makes him glow like nothing Jeongin’s ever seen
before.
“You did really well.”
Jeongin beams, he looks at the man on the couch and clears his throat. “Are we leaving him
like this?”
“Yep.”
“And his money?”
“He has no money, he’s in debt. We killed him because the bastard ran off and spent the last
of the money he could have paid Chan back with.”
“Oh.”
A small bark makes them both look to the door where the dog still sits. This time its tail is
wagging and its eyes are intently staring at Jeongin. If it even had an owner before, it’s
clearly chosen Jeongin as its new one.
“Oh please can we keep him?” Jeongin pleads, turning his pout back to Hyunjin. “Please?
He’s so cute and we just killed his owner.”
Hyunjin narrows his eyes and glances at the body. “One second,” he mutters and whistles at
the dog. “Come here.”
Obediently, the dog toddles up to his outstretched hand. It nuzzles Hyunjin’s fingers and lets
him pick it up. Hyunjin looks over its collar but it doesn’t have a tag to name it. He turns it
around and lets it look at its previous owner. Blood, guts and all.
“Boston terriers are omnivores,” Jeongin notes as Hyunjin places the dog on the man’s chest.
“I think.”
“I just wanna see what it does. It clearly doesn’t give a shit about the man, didn’t even move
when we shot him,” Hyunjin mutters, observing closely as the dog sniffs curiously at the
gaping wound.
Jeongin shrieks as the dog then bites a piece of the intestine and pulls, tugging more of it out
and wriggling its head like the organ is a chew toy.
“No! No, no, no, bad!” Jeongin yelps, taking the dog and forcefully pulling the intestine out
of its mouth. “Yucky! No!”
Hyunjin is no help at all, he’s laughing. Especially when the dog looks somewhat put out.
“Okay,” he decides. “We’re keeping her.”
Jeongin blinks, checks the dog and notes the significant lack of male organs. He blinks and
holds the dog to his chest. “Oh.”
Chan and Changbin arrive safely in the second week, just as they’d promised. With Busan
finally calm and Wooyoung safe enough to continue on his own, both Changbin and Chan
look worn out but happy enough when their group meet them at the airport.
Felix jumps and wraps both arms and legs around Chan. He almost topples the poor man over
as he smothers him with love. Jisung looks amused as he comes to take Changbin’s bag for
him.
“Good flight?” Minho asks, leading the group back to the waiting van.
“Long flight,” Changbin confesses, watching as Felix jumps on Chan’s back instead and lets
the man piggy back him to the van.
There’s chatter in the van, excited and lively for the most part. With Chan and Changbin, the
group finally feels complete. Even Jeongin feels it, it hadn’t felt the same without them and
now that all eight of them are together, somehow it feels safer. Complete.
“Innie and Hyunjin got a dog,” Felix tells Chan not long after the van starts to drive them
back to the hotel.
Chan blinks in surprise. “...a dog?”
“She was being neglected, I had to,” Jeongin says where he’s sitting next to Hyunjin. “She’s
currently hiding out in our hotel room. She’s really good too, she hardly ever barks.”
“She didn’t care too much about her previous owner either,” Hyunjin notes, his arm around
Jeongin’s shoulders as he watches the scenery pass his window. “Tried to eat him….we
probably should have let her.”
It’s not until they’re back at the hotel that Jisung finally brings up the thing about the rooms.
“So, you had a note that said rooms are changing when you get here?” he says, the group
stopping in the lobby as Changbin goes to check himself and Chan in.
“Yeah,” Chan nods. “But it’s just Felix and Seungmin moving, the rest of you are safe.”
“We’re moving?” Felix asks.
“I mean, if you move me away from the two couples who fuck all the time, I’m cool with
that,” Seungmin points out. “You put us right between both of them, thanks a lot.”
“Binnie did that,” Chan grins. “Anyway, we’re taking rooms further down the hall. I’m
rooming with you. Fe, you’re with Bin.”
“Wait,” Felix looks up and immediately Jeongin can see his cheeks flushing a brilliant pink.
“Wait, what?!”
“Have fun!” Chan chirps as he grabs Seungmin and walks him to the elevators.
Jisung and Minho seem to know better, both have identical grins on their faces as they head
to their room. Hyunjin tugs on Jeongin’s hand and leads him to the elevators as well. Over his
shoulder, Jeongin sees Changbin coming back to a wide eyed Felix and being told they’re
rooming together.
“Maybe they’ll finally fuck and get it over with,” Hyunjin comments.
Despite the match between Felix and Changbin being set, what actually happens is Chan and
Changbin end up sleeping their jetlag away right through the afternoon and most of the night.
Chan wakes early the next morning still dressed in the same clothes he’d worn on the plane, a
blanket thrown over him and his legs still dangling from the bed he’d just collapsed in.
He gets up, showers and feels infinitely better dressed in clean clothing. When he leaves the
room, the first rays of sunlight are just kissing the sky. Its light leaks through the windows of
the hallway, dousing the flooring in a strange golden light as Chan walks towards the
elevators.
It’s quiet, most people are still asleep at this time of morning. Which is why he’s surprised
when he reaches the elevators and sees Minho standing there, phone in hand, cruising
through websites until he looks up and notices Chan.
His beautiful face melts easily into a sleepy smile. “Morning.”
“What are you doing up?” Chan asks, his finger pushing the button to call the elevator. “It’s
too early.”
“Could say the same thing about you,” Minho points out as he pockets his phone. “Where are
you going so early in the morning? Haven’t you ever heard of rest? If anyone in our group
needs it most, it’s you.”
“I have someone I need to visit,” Chan shrugs, walking into the elevator when the doors
open. Minho follows him in and he frowns in confusion. “Han-”
“Will be asleep until midday and I don’t want to leave you alone,” Minho shrugs and stands
next to him. “I’ll keep you company.”
Chan hesitates. He hadn’t exactly planned on taking anyone with him, this is sort of
something he’d wanted to do alone but he can already tell Minho isn’t taking no for an
answer. There’s a part of him that doesn’t mind, of all the people who could come with him
for this, he minds Minho the least.
Sighing, he hits the button to bring them down to the ground floor. “It’s gonna be boring for
you.”
“Chris, I’ve known you for years now and not once have you ever been boring,” Minho
chuckles as he pulls out his phone to flick Jisung a small message about his whereabouts.
“Besides, were you even planning on eating breakfast?”
“Not really hungry.”
“Not the point, your body needs fuel if you’re not gonna let it sleep enough,” Minho sniffs.
“I’m buying you breakfast.”
“Minho…”
“Chris,” Minho shoots back in the same whining tone Chan was about to use on him. Chan
sighs, there’s no arguing against him.
“Fine.”
Minho’s smile is radiant as he follows Chan out to the car that’s already waiting outside of
the hotel. He insists on a short stop at the nearest convenience store and Chan waits in the car
as Minho goes inside to pick out food. He comes out with two sandwiches, two bottles of
water and an apple that he demands Chan eat before they reach their destination.
“Bossy,” Chan mutters, biting through his apple just to keep Minho smiling. “Don’t you have
a boyfriend to boss around? Why are you picking on me?”
“Because my boyfriend knows how to look after himself, unlike you,” Minho retorts quickly.
“Where are we going anyway? What friend wants to meet you this early in the morning?”
Chan doesn’t answer but when the car stops in front of a large hospital, Minho’s demeanour
changes quickly from mildly amused and curious to downright confused.
“Chris…?”
Chan sets his rubbish aside and climbs out of the car. Minho follows behind, still thoroughly
confused even as he follows Chan quietly down the cobblestone path to the front entrance.
It’s still so early but a few nurses are just finishing up the nightshift when Chan approaches
the desk. A tired looking woman with a kind smile looks up and blinks curiously at Chan.
“How can I help you?”
“Yeah,” Chan rests his hands on the desk and looks down at the lady. “I’m here to see
someone?”
“Who would that be?”
“Bang Aera.”
Minho’s head snaps up in attention, his eyes wide but Chan can’t look at him. Instead he
follows the nurse and gestures lightly with his hand for Minho to follow him. Down a long,
sterile hallway, they’re led away from the medical ward and towards the mental health ward
instead.
Minho stays cautiously close to Chan as they walk. Passing various wards until finally they
reach one facing the morning light. Chan thanks the nurse and checks the name on the door
before gently pushing it open.
It’s a small room with a single bed next to the window, a chest of drawers and a private
bathroom. Minho immediately notices the almost barren state of the room, the plastic utensils
on a plate that had obviously been left last night. Every implement that could be used for self
harm is removed, the bathroom has a panic button.
On the bed, a woman sits with her back to them both. She’s watching the sunrise through her
window and her room really does have a lovely view of the distant beach and the rising sun
bringing a golden glow to the world.
“Mum,” Chan calls. “It’s me.”
At first she doesn’t respond. But when Chan reaches out and touches her shoulder, she turns
her head.
Chan looks like her. She has his curls, her hair is a little darker. He inherited her eyes, her
lips, even the slight look of confusion on her face before she recognises who she’s looking at.
Minho sees all of Chan in her and he stays a cautious distance as Chan approaches his mother
and kneels down in front of her.
“Chris,” she says, her hand curling around his cheek gently. “You got fat.”
Chan laughs but there’s a small choked up sound to it, a sad sound that Minho doesn’t like
hearing.
“Have they been treating you well here?” Chan asks, his hands reaching up to hold hers. “Is
the food good here?”
“Yes, yes,” Aera says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “The servants have been very
accommodating. But they don’t feed me when I actually want to be fed, they feed me when I
don’t want it and that’s why I don’t eat.”
Chan squeezes her hands. “Mum, I told you that you need to eat when they give you food.
It’ll make you better.”
“They put weird green pills in my drinks.”
“It’s to make you better, mum,” Chan insists gently. “Remember? I told you about the
monster, right? The one in your head.”
Aera hums, she taps her head and Chan nods slowly. “Yeah, that one. You need to let the
nurses help you fight it so you can get well and come home again.”
Minho glances at the little notepad placed at the end of her bed. He reads the scribbles and
it’s mostly medical jargon except for the note identifying her illness in cursive.
Schizophrenia.
Aera turns her head and Minho starts when she notices him. He manages a small bow and
when he looks up, he sees a smile on her face.
“Chris, your boyfriend is very pretty.”
Both Chan and Minho pale, Chan is quick to hold up his hands.
“Mum, he’s not my-”
“Come here darling, what’s your name?” Aera says, her hand reaching out for Minho already.
Minho takes her hand and lets her pull him down to sit next to her on the bed. He looks over
her face and a closer inspection reveals more features Chan inherited from her.
“Lee Minho.”
“Minho,” Aera repeats, her hand moving to touch Minho’s hair. There’s an appreciative
gleam in her eyes as she flicks the ends of his locks, her fingers trace over his jawline and
cheek.
Then she leans in and presses a small kiss to his cheek.
“Mum,” Chan speaks up. “He’s not my boyfriend, he’s Han’s. Remember Han?”
Aera ignores him and Minho can’t help but stare at her. She looks so much like Chan in
almost every single way, he recognises the subtle movements of her face that Chan inherited.
He even feels Chan in her fingers as they touch his face.
“Look after my Chris for me,” she tells him. “He doesn’t look after himself. His father
neglects him.”
“Mum!” Chan says, a little scandalised. “He’s your husband!”
“I wanted to take Chris and hide in Australia when I had him,” Aera continues, her eyes on
Minho as she takes his hands instead and holds them securely in her own. “But his father
would have never let it happen. So I had to watch as that man destroyed my son.”
“Mum!” Chan pleads. “Stop, I’m right here!”
“So look after Chris for me,” Aera says. “Because I can’t. Because I was too weak to.”
“Mum!”
“Chris, stop,” Minho says.
Aera takes a ring off her finger and hands it to Minho. It’s a solid silver band with a square
diamond in the middle. On either side are two smaller sapphire stones glinting in the light.
Inside the band, Minho can see the word ‘Christopher’ carved in cursive.
Immediately, Minho tries giving it back.
“I can’t-”
“Take it and promise me you’ll look after him,” Aera insists, pushing it back into his hand. “I
always wanted to give this ring to whoever my son would fall in love with, to the lucky one
he’d marry.”
“But I’m not-”
“Do this for me, please?” Aera says, cutting him off with a kind smile. “I don’t think I’ll ever
meet anyone else Chris loves more.”
Chan and Minho exchange glances. Both of them can feel it, the air is tense but Aera seems
blissfully unconcerned. Finally, Minho nods and holds the ring in his hand.
“I promise.”
“Good,” Aera beams. “Now on your way out, tell the servants I want a scotch egg for
breakfast. Busy day for a queen.”
“I’m so sorry about her,” Chan says when they finally leave the hospital. “She’s been sick for
awhile, she keeps thinking she’s the queen of some nation and I’m-”
“Chris, it’s alright,” Minho assures him. “Besides, I’m kind of glad I met her. Now I can see
where you got most of your features.”
Chan just looks exhausted. Albeit, a little happy because he’d seen his mother. It had been
years and he’d been too busy with his father to really pay much attention but he did send her
flowers every year on her birthday and he paid a lot to make sure she was taken care of here.
He’d also taken great pains to keep her identity a secret from the police and any media who
would come after her.
Unlike her husband and son, she lived a quiet, peaceful life here and Chan intended to ensure
it stayed that way.
“When did she get sick?”
Chan runs a hand through his hair, he takes a deep breath and leads Minho back to the car.
“Couple of years ago. Not long after she found out dad had been unfaithful, she kind of
snapped on her own,” Chan explains. “But it had been brewing for years. My grandmother
had it, my great-grandmother had it, it seems to be hereditary. When dad found out she’d
gone insane, he threatened to have her disposed of to keep the scandal away.”
Minho pales and Chan nods. “I’m the one who insisted on hiding her here. Not even dad
knows she’s here.”
“Probably for the best,” Minho comments dryly. He looks down at the ring in his hand and
watches the light play with the engraving.
It was made with love and care, that much he can tell. However overbearing, ambitious and
cold Chan’s father is, his mother is not. She’s sick and delusional, but she’s not cold or
heartless. He holds the ring out to Chan.
“You should have this,” he says. “Give it to the person you love, like your mother wanted.”
Chan looks over the ring but he makes no move to take it from him. Instead, he just shakes
his head.
“Keep it.”
“But-”
“It’s yours. I just know I was never meant to have it,” Chan replies, his eyes turning back to
his window. “She had a plan for how our lives would pan out and this wasn’t it. At the very
least, she can be happy now thinking I love anyone.”
Minho looks at the ring again. He shakes his head. “You will love someone, Chris. One day
someone is gonna come along and-”
Chan looks at him and Minho’s words die on his tongue. There’s an elephant in the car, one
neither of them want to admit but both can feel pressing against them. There’s also a truth
they don’t want to say aloud. That with their lives, with Chan’s life, what room will there
ever be for love? Or a happy ending.
Finally, Minho nods and pockets the ring. Chan turns his gaze back to the window.
The car ride is silent the entire way back to the hotel.
The rest of the week passes by in a flash - as it does when it’s fun. Once Chan and Changbin
recover completely from the events of the week prior and the long plane ride, they
immediately integrate themselves back into the group.
They visit the beach a lot and play on the sand. They explore the island and eat out at
different restaurants every night - always critiquing the food because they themselves are
chefs of a different kind.
For the first time in awhile, Jeongin just relaxes.
It’s different, being with his group like this. With the exception of the odd stint of gutting a
man open and stealing his dog, this holiday feels very much like a moment of reprieve. A
moment where they can stop thinking about bodies, human meat, corrupt politicians and just
be themselves. A small group of twenty-somethings enjoying a new area.
He gets to see new sides of the others that he doesn’t see at work. Like Seungmin actually
laughing and bantering with Chan and eventually Hyunjin. Or Felix getting bolder and bolder
with each passing day. He blushes on the first but as each day passes, he starts cuddling up
more to Changbin and it’s actually Changbin who ends up freezing and blushing like a kid
with a crush.
Even Hyunjin relaxes - as much as he can anyway. He’s always just a little on edge, a little
alert and Jeongin supposes he’s had to be in order to survive. This is just an ingrained habit
by now.
On the final night, they go out for dinner. With Chan paying, they head for the most
expensive restaurant on the island. Their table is out on the balcony surrounded by soft fairy
lights on the railing and hanging from the nearby trees. Jeongin can hear the distant crash of
the ocean, the table is glass and the plates brought in are immaculate.
Shrimp, caviar, eggs, chicken, cheese, all manner of foods arranged like works of art so
beautiful that none of them can find a single fault.
The taste is spectacular too, Jeongin thinks he can practically see stars behind his eyelids as
the decadent taste melts in his mouth, tingling all his tastebuds at once.
“Oh I’m inspired!” Felix exclaims. “Seungmin, Innie, we have a new job!”
“As much as I would love to make art like this, we barely have enough time to put the food
on the plate, let alone make it look pretty,” Seungmin points out blandly.
“Would fairy lights go with our restaurant aesthetic?” Jisung asks. Minho just laughs and
shakes his head.
Jeongin leans into Hyunjin. He watches Felix telling Changbin about brownies and how to
make them. Seungmin is in a conversation with Hyunjin about training dogs. Meanwhile
Chan is chatting to Minho and Jisung about something he can’t hear and it’s just nice. It’s
nice and relaxed - like a calm before a storm.
The wine flows endlessly with the food and by the end of the night, most of them are drunk
and too full to move properly. They somehow stumble their way back to the hotel and as they
part ways, Jeongin can see Felix taking Changbin’s hand and Changbin returning the gesture.
There’s a shy, timid look about them both as they stumble off to their room.
Minho shoots Jeongin a grin and crosses his fingers.
“We really should name her,” Jeongin says when he wanders into his room with Hyunjin. On
cue, the dog rushes from where she was lounging on their bed to greet them at the door.
She curls around their ankles, nuzzling with her tail wagging until Hyunjin leans down to
pick her up and hold her to his chest.
“Got a name in mind?” he asks as he places her on the bed and checks her food bowl.
Jeongin hums. He’s never had to name a dog. When the neighbours had dogs, he always
hated the sound of their names. He used to hear them calling for them and he always thought
it was such an ugly sound. For the life of him, he can’t remember what their names were but
he recalls he never liked them.
But she’s different. She’s cuter, smaller and infinitely happier to see them both.
He looks at her, her wagging tail, her panting tongue and bright eyes and all he can see is
love. Devoted, unconditional love.
“Honey.”
Hyunjin blinks, he looks at her and tilts his head. “Honey?”
She looks up, responding to the name with a small, appreciative bark.
Hyunjin nods. “Honey it is.”
Jeongin takes the shower first. He’s a little buzzed on the wine but not completely drunk like
last time. He takes his time lathering himself with the soap and his mind wanders.
They’re going back to South Korea tomorrow. Back to Busan, back to God’s Menu. Back to
working every day chopping up human meat and feeding them to customers. When does it
end? Does it end when Mayor Bang no longer has any enemies? Jeongin thinks about his
father and wonders if the police will ever find a way around Chan and expose them all.
A shiver courses through his body at the very thought. The police, armed to the teeth and
bursting into the restaurant with enough warrants to bury them all. They’d find the basement,
they’d find the bodies, they’d put them all away for the rest of their lives and that’s the best
case scenario.
Worst case being that they die horrible, painful, slow deaths before that even happens.
It’s not just the thought of Hyunjin dying that strikes a pang of pain in Jeongin’s chest now.
It’s all of them, even Chan. He’s never felt so attached to people before and yet these people
had warmed to him once they’d gotten to know him. Once they’d broken through the first
barrier and trust was established.
Once he became one of them, he felt himself welcomed into an ironically warm family
considering what they all did for a living.
After growing up with parents like his, Jeongin can’t afford to lose that.
Sunshine Felix, stoic but caring Seungmin. Minho’s protective presence, Jisung’s stable
influence. Changbin’s quiet but solid presence and Chan...Chan the blanket presence of all of
them. The one who not only commands but also cares for them all.
And Hyunjin.
Jeongin doesn’t hear the bathroom door opening but he does register when Hyunjin slides
into the shower with him. Arms loop around his middle and Jeongin leans back into him.
Hyunjin, who has wiggled his way under Jeongin’s skin. Worked his way into his life so
completely that Jeongin doesn’t feel right when he’s not with him. He’s Jeongin’s sort of
crazy, he understands Jeongin and he doesn’t judge because he’s done worse. He’s safe, he’ll
never let anyone else touch him and he’s so protective.
More than he lets on.
If anything were to happen to him....if somehow he were taken away for his crimes, where
would that leave Jeongin?
An empty feeling settles at the pit of his stomach at the very thought of waking up without
Hyunjin. Of continuing his life without him and Jeongin hates it.
“Innie,” Hyunjin’s soft voice breaks his thoughts. “You’re thinking too much. Come back to
me.”
Jeongin is almost shaking as he turns in Hyunjin’s arms and leans up to take his lips. He’s
shaking, overwhelmed with a need to push these horrible, lonely, empty feelings from
himself. Hyunjin kisses back and Jeongin is distantly aware of the shower being turned off as
he is picked up and carried out of the bathroom.
At night, the moonlight shines upon the sea. The distant lights of the hotel, the surrounding
areas and little houses look like fireflies from so high up. Jeongin pants, his forehead pressed
to the window and his breath fogging the glass as he feels Hyunjin entering him from behind.
There he is, pressed against the window, legs spread wide and the curtains drawn wide open.
A vision for the world with Hyunjin’s hot breath heating his left ear as his hands hold Jeongin
still.
Every thrust makes Jeongin stutter, his whole body shivering and hands gripping the glass but
finding nothing solid to hold onto. He turns his head and Hyunjin kisses his cheek and
jawline. His lips drift down to his neck where he bites and Jeongin lets out a loud moan.
How debauched must he look to an outsider? How surrendered he is with his eyes closed, his
lips parted and Hyunjin’s hungry teeth marking his neck.
Hyunjin’s hands grip hard, holding him firmly and it grounds Jeongin. Every thrust makes
him mad and as he presses against the cold window, the heat of Hyunjin against his back is
such a stark contrast that Jeongin can’t think straight.
One particularly well aimed thrust has Jeongin’s breath stuttering against the glass, his
fingers curling and a pitiful whimper escaping him.
“Mine,” Hyunjin whispers into his ear, his hands leave marks on Jeongin’s waist. “Mine.”
“Yours,” Jeongin promises breathlessly.
He starts to shake, Hyunjin’s thrusts start getting more erratic as his breath gets more ragged
against his neck. With a moan, Jeongin almost sinks against the window when he comes.
Hyunjin follows close behind with a breathless grunt buried in his shoulderblade.
Boneless, they sink to the floor. Jeongin can still feel Hyunjin’s arms around them as they
both fight for air in their lungs. When Jeongin finally comes to, the first thing he sees when
he looks up is the long, dribbling streak of translucent liquid splashed on the glass and
trickling to the floor.
Jeongin pales. “Oh my god, eww.”
Hyunjin’s laughter fills the air as Jeongin wiggles out of his grip and races to the bathroom to
find something to clean the window. He eventually manages to coax the other into bed and as
the last night of their temporary holiday draws to a close, it finds Jeongin with his limbs
wrapped around Hyunjin on the single bed. Their dog asleep at their feet.
Hyunjin’s bed had never been touched.
Chapter End Notes

I can never write these long-ass chapters at decent times of the day so just so you know,
whenever a chapter comes up it means I've pulled an all-nighter writing in silence with
the occasional break to watch SKZ content because *inspiration*
lol, sleep is over-rated, Chan would agree.
*laughs then cries - I need my own group of people who would occasionally force me to
sleep, eat and function like a human being*
Also you might have noticed but I have a habit of adding tags as I go. This is because I
haven't thought of all the things I need to warn you. But also note that there are some
MAJOR things I will never warn you about because huge spoilers so...I mean when they
happen you are more than welcome to come after me with your torches and pitchforks
but just know that this author will never regret not deliberately spoiling my well hidden
twists.
Your love, your comments, your everything is what I live, breathe and eat to get me
through :) Love you all, see you in the next chapter!
XIX: Ubi amor, ibi dolor
Chapter Notes
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PINTEREST
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ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
“Seungmin, watch that stove!” Felix exclaims. “It’s gonna boil over!”
Jeongin looks up from his work to see Seungmin racing across the kitchen to save the pot
bubbling away on the stovetop. He grins and turns his attention back to the vegetables he’s
dicing. Just out on the main floor, he can hear the distant sound of the music playing in the
restaurant. Somewhere in there, Minho will be showing customers to their seats, Jisung and
Hyunjin will be clearing tables, taking orders and bringing food to tables.
It’s a peaceful return and after the holiday in Hawaii, all of them feel somewhat refreshed.
Not only that but they also feel closer somehow, as if in the two weeks they were together,
they learnt more about each other and came to a closer understanding as a group. Even Chan
and Changbin seem more relaxed now that the riots are over.
“Okay,” Jeongin says as he puts the diced vegetables aside. “That’s all of them. I’ll start in on
the meat.”
Felix nods and points to the packaged meat sitting in the middle of the benches. “Next few
meals need them cut into little squares-”
Jeongin hears it first and he doesn’t recognise the sound. The faintest, distant sound coming
from outside. Then the doors open and for a second, he thinks they have another customer.
Then someone behind him is grabbing his wrists, his face hits the steel bench and in his
blurred gaze, he recognises Felix’s form being manhandled to the floor.
“Felix!” Jeongin shrieks as someone pushes him down to lie on the floor.
“Stay down!” someone is shouting at him. He can feel a boot pressing into his back, pinning
him painfully against the tiles. “Stay down!”
It’s all a blur. A loud, painful blur. Just a little past the leg of the bench, he can see Seungmin
lying on the floor too. He tries to move but someone is holding him down and when he feels
something cold on the back of his neck, his body freezes on instinct.
Gun. It’s a gun pressing into the back of his neck.
Jeongin can see boots, he tries to look around as much as he can and all he can see are armed
men. They’re armed and they’re wearing helmets. He reads the words on their bulletproof
vests and freezes.
They’re police.
One of them opens the freezer door and they march in with purpose. Jeongin can’t breathe, he
feels his entire vision tunnelling as he hears one of them shout that they’ve found the
trapdoor. Jeongin can hear Felix whimpering, out in the main room he doesn’t know what
happened to the others and he’s terrified. Are they holding them down on the floor as well? Is
Hyunjin alright?
“Found the bodies, sir!” one of the policemen call and Jeongin closes his eyes.
Oh god. It’s over. It’s all over. They’re going to be put away, they’re going to be separated,
their lives are going to be destroyed.
Someone grabs him and yanks him up to his feet. He feels the cold kiss of cuffs around his
wrists and through the window, he can see Minho being manhandled out the door with Jisung
close behind.
Where’s Hyunjin?
The person holding him kicks his legs forward until Jeongin stumbles. He’s pushed towards
the back door and out into the unforgiving swelter of the summer heat. Somehow, in his
panic, it feels hotter than usual and well past unbearable. There are big black vans parked all
around the restaurant. A full operation of armed police. Somewhere in the distance he can see
Chan being arrested and shoved into a car.
They’re taking Jeongin to a van and just as he reaches it, he hears someone call his name.
No, not someone.
He looks up, heart leaping in his throat as he sees Hyunjin. Wild eyed and more furious than
he’s ever seen him before. He’s cuffed as well but he’s so angry. Somehow, he manages to
kick his policeman off him and Jeongin wants to scream. He wants to tell him not to run, just
to do as they say because it’s over. It’s over.
It’s almost as though in slow motion, he sees Hyunjin wrestle out of the policeman’s grip.
With cuffed hands and furious determination, he races towards Jeongin. Amidst an army of
police and no hope for escape, Hyunjin runs.
Then a loud bang. A sound Jeongin has actually gotten used to now. He watches, wide eyed
in disbelief as Hyunjin falls and it’s not until he hits the ground that Jeongin registers the
blooming wound in his chest.
He can’t scream. He wants to but it gets caught in his throat. Instead what takes over is
paralyzing fear and horror. Hyunjin’s bleeding, he’s on the ground and he’s not moving. He’s
not moving.
Someone is trying to get Jeongin to keep moving but Jeongin can’t take his eyes off the
scene. Hyunjin is lying there, eyes staring up at the sky and nothing’s there. He’s gone. A
scream rips itself from Jeongin’s throat-
“Innie, Innie!”
Jeongin opens his eyes.
He’s not outside, it’s not daytime, he’s not at the restaurant, he’s at home.
It’s night, he’s sitting up in bed and Hyunjin is right there in front of him, eyes wide with
concern as both his hands are holding Jeongin’s shoulders.
“Innie, baby, wake up,” he’s saying.
Was he screaming? Jeongin’s throat is hoarse and he feels like he has been screaming. His
breathing comes in fast. Panicked, fearful and anxious panting as his brain quickly catches up
with him.
It was a dream. All a dream. He’s safe, Hyunjin’s alive and the police haven’t caught them.
But still the shadows of the nightmare don’t leave, the sight of Hyunjin lying there on the
hard ground, bleeding and staring into nothingness…
Jeongin feels pain in his chest, he’s shaking like a leaf and when he starts to cry, Hyunjin
pulls him into his chest. Jeongin’s needy hands clutch him, needing physical assurance that
he is alive, he’s right here and that really was a dream.
A horrific, terrifying, realistic dream.
“Shh, Innie,” Hyunjin whispers in his ear. His hand is stroking Jeongin’s back, the other
holding the back of his head with his fingers gently stroking his hair. Jeongin’s fingers clutch
and pull at Hyunjin’s shirt and he can’t hold him tight enough.
Somewhere on the floor, Honey is staring at both of them with concern. She whimpers a little
as she approaches the bed. She’s sensing that Jeongin is upset and because of it, she’s getting
upset too. She waits until Hyunjin pulls back from Jeongin long enough to lean down and
pick her up with one arm.
He then brings her up to sit between them and Jeongin rubs at his face as she starts pawing at
his stomach and chest.
Jeongin takes a deep, shaky breath. The dream is starting to fade as wakefulness brings him
into reality but it still leaves imprints. Horrible imprints of the moment he realised they’d
been caught. The moment he realised their world was about to come crashing down and the
moment of seeing Hyunjin shot right in front of him.
The thought alone is almost enough to make him start crying again.
“I dreamt we got caught,” he breathes. He wants to speak properly but his voice won’t let
him. Still shaking with terror and half a scream caught in his throat. “I dreamt they all came
in, found the freezer, arrested us and shot you for trying to run to me.”
Honey keeps pawing at his arm until he pets her. She walks off Hyunjin’s lap and into
Jeongin’s, snuggling into his chest as he pets her head. Jeongin meets Hyunjin’s eyes and
shakes his head. “I saw you die in front of me.”
“It was a dream, Innie.”
“But it felt so real,” Jeongin whimpers. “It did and I couldn’t scream. I was so scared and I
couldn’t…”
He shivers and his free hand has to touch Hyunjin’s leg. He still needs physical assurance and
though the dream is fading, the feeling is not. What makes it even more terrifying is that it
could happen. If the police ever found the means to move like that, it could really happen.
God’s Menu, Felix, Hyunjin, everyone, it could all be over in an instant. Just like that.
Jeongin never thought about it until now but the thought of all of it crumbling down like a
house of cards paralyses him with fear. To lose it all, to see everyone he loves put away
forever. What would become of him? Would he go to jail? Would they shove him in an
asylum again? Would his father somehow use his power to get him out and then sentence him
to a life of following in his footsteps and becoming a hardened police officer? He’d never see
Hyunjin again. He’d never be able to see any of them again and it’s enough to make him
panic.
He’s never had what he has now. To lose it all…
Hyunjin kisses his forehead and pulls him in again. Between them, Honey wags her tail as
Jeongin and Hyunjin lean into each other as much as they can without squashing her.
“It’s not gonna happen,” Hyunjin whispers and Jeongin shakes his head.
“You can’t promise me that.”
“I can, actually,” Hyunjin says as Honey finally wriggles out from between them. She’s
seemingly satisfied that Jeongin isn’t a wreck anymore and perfectly happy to leave him be.
When she’s gone, Jeongin leans in until he’s settled in Hyunjin’s chest again. He feels both of
Hyunjin’s arms around him and takes a deep, shaking breath. It’s comforting to feel safe in
these arms and bit by bit, he can feel the nightmare fading away with the feelings it brought.
He kisses Hyunjin’s chin and curls into him.
“Don’t be afraid of what hasn’t happened, Innie,” Hyunjin whispers, his fingers stroking
Jeongin’s hair back just like before. It feels so comforting against Jeongin’s scalp that he
relaxes against him with the quietest of purrs. “You can’t be scared of what might never
happen. That fear will paralyse you until it’s all you think about.”
“But you can’t promise me it’s not gonna happen,” Jeongin frowns. “If the police find enough
evidence, if they get a warrant-”
“Then Chan will find out long before they have a chance to get a warrant,” Hyunjin assures
him. “I’ll find out, Changbin will find out, we all have our ears pressed to the ground, Innie.
Nothing the police or government do can take us by surprise - least of all a raid on the
freezer.”
Jeongin stills in his arms. It’s something he hadn’t considered but now that Hyunjin points it
out, it makes sense. With all the networking they do, all the people they have in their pocket,
how can the police - how can anyone take them by surprise?
It makes him feel a little better. It’s still not an impossible dream, just an improbable one and
that relaxes him.
Hyunjin seems to feel him relax because he huffs and kisses his head.
“Silly baby,” he whispers into Jeongin’s ear.
Jeongin squirms but he feels better. He curls his arms around Hyunjin and enjoys the warmth
of his body and the comfort of his presence. The steady, firm beat of his heart against
Jeongin’s ear is infinitely more comforting than any drug he’s ever taken. Hyunjin, the most
addictive drug he’s ever met.
They lie back down again, Jeongin’s head on Hyunjin’s chest. Under the covers, Jeongin
curls himself around Hyunjin but always, he keeps his ear pressed to that chest. The heartbeat
thuds gently against his ear and he relaxes so much faster for it.
There’s not a single place in the world safer than right here. Jeongin closes his eyes and
before sleep takes him again, he feels Hyunjin’s lips against his forehead, sending him to
better, sweeter dreams.
The kitchen is in full swing with the sound of sizzling meat, boiling water and the tap of
knives against chopping boards. Jeongin looks up and feels a shiver of deja vu.
The truth is that the kitchen always looks like this. On normal days that aren’t events, it rarely
ever changes. They all have their set roles and the three of them play their parts to practiced
perfection. The dream hadn’t lied, they are a little more relaxed thanks to their stint overseas
and it’s safer in the city now because of Changbin and Chan’s work on Wooyoung and
Wolgang Pa.
Still, Jeongin feels a lingering reminder of his dream even as he carries on, running on
autopilot as his hands follow the same routine he’s followed for months now.
“Hey, Innie,” Felix says after a few moments of focussed silence. “You free tonight?”
Jeongin thinks about it. Honey is still getting used to the apartment so he doesn’t like leaving
her alone too long and Hyunjin has lockup duty tonight which means Jeongin will be going
home alone tonight anyway.
“I have Honey at home,” he replies but when he catches the guarded look in Felix’s eyes, he
frowns. “Why?”
“I just…” Felix hesitates. “I need someone to talk to.”
It hits Jeongin just then that despite things having seemingly gone well between Felix and
Changbin in Hawaii, something has changed since then. Felix should have been the first to be
loud and obnoxious about a new relationship and yet he hasn’t said a thing about it. Chan’s
been too busy planning his wedding to really spend too much time on it and Changbin is
always quiet. Felix’s sudden subdued manner is subtle but it’s there.
“Come over?” Jeongin suggests. “It’ll just be me and Honey at home.”
A small grateful smile appears on Felix’s face, he nods and gets back to work but he looks a
little more relaxed now. Jeongin watches and wonders what happened. Does Changbin not
like him back after all? Did they do something and realise it felt wrong?
His mind is too busy working and thinking that he doesn’t notice Hyunjin’s presence until he
feels arms snaking around his waist from behind and his body pressing into his back.
Hyunjin’s face appears on his right shoulder and presses a kiss to his neck.
Then he pulls back just as quickly as he appeared. Jeongin fights a wobbly smile threatening
to appear on his face as he watches Hyunjin head out onto the main floor again. The doors
swing shut behind him and it’s not until he’s gone that Jeongin dares to smile.
Felix blinks. “What was that about?”
Jeongin just shakes his head. That was just Hyunjin reminding him that his nightmare wasn’t
coming true. Not today anyway.
The day starts going faster once Jeongin relaxes. When night falls and the restaurant finally
slows down as the last of the customers linger, Jeongin notices Minho coming into the
kitchen as he normally does when the restaurant is winding down so slowly that he doesn’t
have much to do.
“All good in here?” he asks.
Felix nods where he’s busy cleaning the dishes, Seungmin disappears into the freezer to pack
away the last of the meat and Jeongin just smiles tiredly.
“I could do with another holiday,” he admits whilst wiping down the bench.
Minho laughs and pats his shoulder. “Me too, Innie.”
He heads out the back door and Jeongin continues cleaning down the benches until they’re
shining. The best thing about the wind-down is that the routine is so far ingrained that the
three of them move almost instinctively. Jeongin wipes down the benches, Seungmin clears
away the leftovers and any packages unused whilst Felix takes care of the dishes. Then
someone does the floors, someone empties the rubbish, it’s all routine and in a way it’s a bit
comforting that this part never changes.
What happens down in the freezer changes all the time but up here at least, this part never
does.
“Ah shit, where’s Minho?” Jisung asks as he comes in through the doors with a wad of papers
in his hands.
Felix looks around and points to the backdoor. “Saw him go out there? Probably wanted to
talk to Chan or Binnie or something.”
“Can someone take these to Chan? I gotta finish the floors,” Jisung asks, shaking the receipts
in his hands. “Minho probably just forgot to take these out.”
Jeongin holds his hand out and smiles when Jisung hands them over and runs back into the
main room - as if he’ll be hung from the highest flagpole if he doesn’t clean the floor in time.
Jeongin stacks the receipts into a nicer pile and heads out the backdoor.
Outside, the night air is cool against his skin and he can hear the swell of crickets. He keeps
the receipts tight in his hand as he walks around the bins towards Chan’s office. Just as he
approaches the door, he lifts his hand to knock when a sound from inside stops him.
A crash? Did something fall? He’s about to check when he hears Minho’s voice, muffled but
angry. Angrier than he’s ever heard him before.
“I can’t make excuses for you, Chris,” Minho is saying and Jeongin frowns. No, that’s not
angry Minho...that’s upset Minho.
Chan’s voice sounds so tired. “I’m not asking you to.”
“You are!” Minho screams and Jeongin takes a cautious step back from the door. He’s never
heard Minho sound like this, especially not towards Chan. He’s never heard Minho call Chan
by his English name before either, usually when he’s talking about him, he calls him Chan. It
didn’t occur to him that when face to face with the man himself, Minho uses his English
name.
“I’m not!” Chan fires back and then they’re both shouting. They’re both screaming over each
other that Jeongin can’t make out a single word they’re saying. He can hear something
smacking the wall, are they throwing things?
“Stop! Stop! Just stop, Minho, stop!” Chan finally shouts and Jeongin doesn’t know what
they’re doing but he can hear something crashing about in there.
Someone’s panting. Someone is breathing hard, is it Minho or Chan? Or both? Minho’s voice
is cracking, even through the door Jeongin can hear it. He can hear something broken in his
voice when he speaks.
“You’re really asking me to watch you do this?”
Minho sounds like he’s about to cry.
Jeongin gets a heavy feeling that he’s not supposed to hear any of this. His ears catch the
sound of someone approaching the door and his legs bolt on their own. Dashing around the
corner of the office building, he hides in the darkness of the small alleyway just as he hears
the door bang open.
Peering around the corner, he watches Minho’s silhouette head back to the restaurant. He
stops just outside the back door and Jeongin can’t make out his features but he can see
Minho’s shoulders shaking. He doesn’t open the door. Instead he stays just outside and buries
his face in his hands.
Jeongin can’t move. Minho will see him if he does. So he waits, watches as Minho stands
there shaking. He’s crying. Jeongin can hear distant sniffles, a broken cough until finally his
body hunches over. Minho keeps trying to rub his face with his sleeves but he’s crying so
hard that he sinks down until he’s crouching and sobbing into his knees.
What the hell was that about? Jeongin stares, helpless in disbelief as he tries to think of what
could have possibly happened to make Minho this upset. What Chan could have possibly
done to cause this and he’s at a disadvantage because he still doesn’t know them as well as
others but still...he’s never seen Minho like this before.
Finally Minho gives up on the idea of going back in. He pulls himself back up and Jeongin
can hear him sniffling as his sleeve rubs at his face again. He heads out for the parking lot
instead. His silhouette shrinks as he walks away and Jeongin stares until he disappears
around a corner.
He waits a few more seconds before he finally inches out of the alleyway and turns his eyes
to Chan’s office door.
Right. Receipts. Jeongin knows better than to ask what happened, he clearly wasn’t meant to
witness any of that. He takes a deep breath before heading to the door and knocking.
Inside, he can hear Chan’s muffled ‘shit’. A bit of shuffling before his voice finally answers,
clearer now. “Come in.”
Jeongin opens the door and finds Chan behind his desk as usual. If his room was a mess
before, it’s not now. Nothing on the floor, nothing out of place except for Chan. Chan whose
eyes are a little red around the edges, as though he’s sleep deprived. But he’s always sleep
deprived, there’s something different about this look. It’s almost as though he’s given up.
“Innie?”
Jeongin holds up the papers and hopes the fact that he heard all of that isn’t obvious on his
face. “Receipts,” he announces. “Han asked me to bring them to you.”
“Ah, thanks,” Chan looks frazzled as he looks around his desk and finally pulls out a folder.
“Just staple them together and put them in here for me, will you?”
Jeongin nods and inches into the room. The door swings shut behind him as he grabs the
stapler and quietly pins the receipts together. As he works, he can’t help but notice Chan
looks exhausted. More now than he’d ever looked before they even left for Hawaii.
He can’t help himself. “Hyung, are you alright?”
He half expects a dismissive ‘I’m fine’ or maybe a nod but Chan offers neither. His eyes are
far away in thought until Jeongin puts the receipts in the folder and lays it on Chan’s desk.
“Hyung?”
Chan blinks at him, his chin is resting on his hands and Jeongin doesn’t think he’s ever seen
him look so run down before.
“Are you okay?” Jeongin asks one more time.
A ghost of a smile appears on Chan’s lips, tired and resigned.
“I’m getting married,” he says quietly.
Jeongin has never heard Chan’s voice break like that.
Honey likes Felix.
She keeps running around his legs and wagging her tail whenever he leans down to pet her.
Somewhere in the living room, Hyunjin’s little portable stereo is hooked up to Jeongin’s
phone, music plays as Felix dumps one cup of flour into the mix.
Jeongin watches him and folds his arms. “I thought we just left work.”
“You can’t compare the therapeutic high of baking to the everyday routine of chopping up
and frying human fat,” Felix retorts with a scrunch of his nose. “When I’m stressed, I bake.”
Jeongin looks over his body and shakes his head. “How are you not fat?”
To that, Felix can only laugh as he continues mixing the ingredients together. With his free
hand, he sets the oven to fan bake and hums to the music as his hand whisks everything until
it’s just the right consistency.
Jeongin watches him work but his mind is somewhere else. What he’d overheard, what he’d
seen tonight still lingers in his mind and he knows he doesn’t know Minho and Chan that
well but he gets the feeling that even the others would have been surprised. Especially
because Minho looked so impossibly upset. The way he’d cried, it sounded like he was being
torn apart. So raw that Jeongin felt it in his bones, it was devastation at its highest peak.
So what the hell had Chan done or said to make Minho cry like that? What did Minho do?
Felix pours the mixture out into the tray and sighs in relief when he sees it spread out on the
white paper. “Look at that,” he grins. “If I had some weed, I’d make hash brownies.”
Jeongin chuckles and watches as Felix puts the tray in the oven and finally sets the timer.
“Fe?”
“Mm?”
“What’s the relationship between Chan and Minho?”
Felix pauses as he’s putting the used dishes into the sink. He picks up the mixing bowl and
wipes out a little residue batter onto his finger before licking it off.
“None as far as I know?” he shrugs. “They’re friends at the very least. Why?”
Jeongin isn’t even sure he should tell Felix about the fight. He’s not even sure what he heard
and he can’t imagine what it was about. Plus with Felix going all quiet on them all of a
sudden mixed with Chan’s stress about his upcoming wedding, Jeongin doesn’t want to poke
his nose in and make trouble where there needn’t be any.
Not yet anyway, maybe whatever happened between Chan and Minho will blow over and
Felix never need worry.
“Nothing,” Jeongin shakes his head and turns to Felix. “So what did you want to talk to me
about?”
If Felix was curious before, it’s wiped off now and replaced instead with the same silent
anxiety that had been subtly brewing ever since they came back from Hawaii one week ago.
He leans down, picks Honey up and heads into the living room. Jeongin follows after him
and settles down on the couch when Felix sits and settles Honey on his lap.
Suddenly Jeongin feels the same kind of trepidation he’d felt when he’d overheard Minho
and Chan arguing and he wonders what’s happening. Is everyone suddenly suffering
problems? Felix never goes quiet like this so what happened?
“Did you need a drink?” Jeongin offers. “I think Hyunjin still has some whisky around.”
Felix makes a face and shakes his head.
“Whisky’s nasty stuff,” he shivers. “How Hyunjin drinks it, I’ll never know.”
Jeongin shrugs. He’d had a glass with Hyunjin a few days ago and the taste had been strong
but not particularly disgusting to him. Still, one glass was where he had to stop whereas
Hyunjin could drink like a fish.
“So what’s wrong?” he prompts, trying to keep his tone gentle just in case Felix starts crying
like Minho did. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” Felix assures him but he still won’t look Jeongin in the eye. His hand
is petting Honey who is fairly content to sit on his lap, wag her tail and pant as she tilts her
head back to look at him with devoted eyes. “I just…”
Jeongin waits patiently, the music a distant noise in the background as he watches the
hesitation in Felix’s eyes.
“You know how...things were going really well between Bin and I on that last night?” Felix
asks.
Jeongin nods, he remembers the two of them getting really close over dinner and then that
night when they’d all left for their rooms, Changbin held Felix’s hand.
“Did...something happen?” Jeongin prompts when Felix doesn’t continue. “I mean...did it not
work out? Does he not like you back?”
“Oh, he does,” Felix nods. “That’s not the problem. He um...we started...you know…”
Jeongin tilts an eyebrow and he can see a beautiful blush spreading on Felix’s cheeks as he
struggles to continue. It’s like pulling goddamn teeth.
“We started...you know...kissing on his bed,” Felix confesses, his hand still petting Honey as
if she’s keeping him from having a full mental breakdown. “And I was a little tipsy, so was
he. Not enough to really cloud my head but just enough to take the edge off.”
Jeongin nods slowly, trying his best to be encouraging as Felix slowly works his story out.
“Then we...you know...one thing led to another and he was sucking my-”
“I really don’t need details,” Jeongin pales. “Just tell me what went wrong?”
“But the details are what went wrong!” Felix insists, his face red as a beetroot now. “He was
great! He was so gentle and he even had a condom ready, he told me he’d been carrying it
around for months because he kept wanting to talk to me but he’d chicken out every single
time!”
Jeongin holds in a long-suffering sigh. He suddenly regrets asking but he still wants to know
what the hell went wrong to make Felix and Changbin so awkward and quiet as they are now.
He suspects Changbin has even started heading out to Wolgang Pa just to avoid Felix.
“So?” he asks, hoping Felix will get around to the point. “What went wrong?”
Felix bites his lip. He takes his time answering but when he does, his voice is all quiet.
“We...you know…we had sex.”
Jeongin stares. Last he checked, consensual sex isn’t meant to make both parties go all quiet
and avoid each other like this.
“I was on bottom...and you know I’ve played around before but I’ve never had sex so it was
new for me...it was new for both of us,” Felix confesses and he can’t look Jeongin in the eye.
He keeps watching a spot on the floor, his hands working automatically to pet Honey.
He goes quiet again and Jeongin takes a deep breath.
“...and?”
He doesn’t think Felix’s face could get any redder but it does. He starts shaking a little and
his voice is really quiet when he answers. So quiet that Jeongin has to get him to repeat
whatever he had whispered.
“What was that?”
“It hurt.”
For a few moments, Jeongin doesn’t know what else to say. He thought it was something
else, something horrible like Changbin turning around and saying he was only using Felix for
sex or maybe Changbin having some sort of revelation and realising he’s actually straight
after all but he hadn’t expected this.
“I...what?”
“It hurt,” Felix says again, a little louder. “It really fucking hurt, I don’t know how the hell
you guys do it all the time because it really hurt!”
Mirth, boiling amusement starts bubbling and it’s all Jeongin can do not to laugh at him. He
has to take a few deep breaths just to calm himself and even then, the laughter threatens to
burst. The kind of laughter he struggles to keep in even when he sucks his lips in. He grips
the couch to stabilize himself as Felix continues.
“It hurt so much I couldn’t fucking walk the day after! That’s why I got Seungmin to carry
me to the car!”
Jeongin has a dim memory of Felix jumping on Seungmin’s back and Seungmin just rolling
with it. He didn’t realise it was because Felix was actually in pain.
Finally, Jeongin manages to keep his voice calm enough to talk.
“Felix...I’m just gonna ask you one thing?”
Felix looks at him and Jeongin keeps his laughter in.

“Did you use lube?”
Confusion. Felix blinks at him and Jeongin has a feeling he knows exactly why it hurt.
Putting aside the fact that the first time is always going to be surprising and a little painful, it
shouldn’t be so painful that he can’t walk unless...
“I…” Felix frowns. “What?”
“Lube?” Jeongin prompts. “You know we need it, right? We need something because we’re
not naturally wet down there?”
Felix blinks and suddenly Jeongin can’t hold it in anymore. He laughs so hard that Honey
jumps a little. Jeongin almost falls off the couch with how hard he laughs and through tearful
eyes, he just barely sees the confused look on Felix’s face.
“You need lube!” he says, howling with laughter even as he finally does fall off the couch
and onto the floor. “For fucks sake, Fe, I thought it was something worse!”
“This is something worse!” Felix shrieks, equal parts embarrassed and horrified. “I told him
how much it hurt and he went all quiet on me! He thinks he’s really bad at sex now!”
“Stop, I can’t breathe,” Jeongin wheezes. His stomach hurts but he can’t stop laughing, even
as he curls into a ball on the floor. “How the hell did you get through high school without
learning about that?!”
Felix is sulking now. “They didn’t teach me that in the incredibly conservative Catholic
school I was sent to!”
Jeongin wants to ask how the hell Changbin didn’t know it either but he’s too busy laughing.
His worries and anxieties about Felix are gone. He’d seriously thought this was something as
dark and serious as what was happening between Chan and Minho but he needn’t have
worried after all. Except for maybe whatever hell Felix had gone through with dry anal sex.
Eventually he manages to catch his breath. He picks himself up from the floor and rubs the
last remaining tears from his eyes. “Shit, that was funny,” he giggles. “I think I just worked a
year off my abs.”
“Oh I’m so glad you find my rectal pain amusing,” Felix pouts but there’s a sliver of a smile
on his lips. As though he knows now what went wrong and his situation is kind of amusing.
He groans. “I can’t believe I told Binnie it hurt. Now he’s going around thinking he’s useless
in the sack.”
“No, you did right to tell him that,” Jeongin insists as he sits back down on the couch. “If you
didn’t know about the lube, he should have known-oh my god,” he sighs, his hands rubbing
at his eyes. “My eyes are still leaking.”
Felix rolls his eyes and scratches Honey behind the ears. He takes a deep breath and drops his
head back against the couch. “What am I gonna do?” he whines. “I can’t fix this, he keeps
avoiding me!”
“He can’t avoid you forever,” Jeongin giggles. He claps his hands and on cue, Honey quickly
abandons Felix and climbs onto Jeongin’s lap instead. She snuggles into him and as Jeongin
scratches behind her ears, he looks at Felix. “Just use lube next time and maybe don’t tell him
he’s shit in bed.”
“I didn’t tell him he’s shit in bed, I just told him it hurt!” Felix squeaks defensively but
Jeongin is already gone laughing again.
The timer goes off and Felix heads back into the kitchen to save his brownies. Left in the
living room, Jeongin snuggles into Honey and giggles, his worry over Chan and Minho
pushed to the back of his mind for now.
“Breathe it in.”
Of all the things Wooyoung never thought he’d end up doing, getting stoned with one Seo
Changbin was not on the list. It’s been a long day and with most of Wolgang comfortably
under his thumb, he’s had his days filled with taking over the businesses his father had his
hands in and for fucks sake, he had his hands in so many.
Too many people asking him to sign things, to attend mind-numbingly boring meetings, to
make decisions on things he didn’t even understand. That’s where Changbin and San came in
and without either of them, Wooyoung would have drowned a long time ago.
Then again, without either of them, his father would still be alive and he wouldn’t have to
worry about anything but his own painful demise once his siblings got their hands on him.
The weed is strong but on Changbin’s instruction, Wooyoung somehow manages to hold it in
the center of his chest. Already his head starts to feel a little foggy as he exhales and leans
back into the cushion fort he’d made in the middle of his living room floor.
San winces. “Is this really a good idea? Getting him stoned when he’s still not 100% safe? He
shouldn’t be so relaxed.”
“He’s never going to be 100% safe, he’s going to have guns pointed at his back for the rest of
his life,” Changbin points out as Wooyoung lies back on the pillows and groans when the
high hits him. “The key is to make sure that the guns pointing at him are held by men who
can’t pull the trigger. Now are you going to stand there and be a wet rag all night or are you
gonna come here and get stoned with us?”
San shifts his feet. He’d gone to stand at the door on the pretense of being on the lookout but
the truth is that Wooyoung still hasn’t forgiven him and there’s a part of him that hasn’t
forgiven himself for doing this to him. However much he tries to convince himself that it was
necessary to keep him alive, the revelation that Wooyoung wouldn’t have minded dying after
his father throws him off a little.
What about him? What about anyone who ever cared for Wooyoung? How can he just roll
over and accept a fate like that? How can anyone just accept that their lives are safe so long
as their parents are alive?
“I’ve never been stoned before, but I like it,” Wooyoung confesses, his eyes staring up at the
ceiling. God knows what he can see. “Just feel all my worries...floating away to the point
where I don’t have to care about them anymore.”
Changbin smirks and takes a drag himself. It helps him too, getting stoned (often with
Hyunjin) always helps when he’s got something on his mind. This time, he’s got something
on his mind and because of it, he’s been avoiding God’s Menu for one whole week now on
the pretense that he’s too busy babysitting Wooyoung.
Which is a lie because the truth is that Wooyoung is just fine now. Stressed and overworked,
but he’s fine.
At least Changbin somewhat enjoys Wooyoung’s company. Despite their rocky beginnings,
Wooyoung actually has a lot in common with him. They have similar taste in music, in food,
even in people. He likes Wooyoung’s instincts too. However sheltered Wooyoung had been
growing up, he knows when he’s dealing with someone dangerous and he knows when to let
his guard down a little. He’s good at reading people and it’s partly this quality that actually
helped him solidify his position as the one true heir.
That and Changbin and San killing anyone who said otherwise. Either in public or in private.
“So what are you running away from?” Wooyoung asks suddenly.
Changbin jumps and hands the spliff back to him when he extends his hand for it. ‘What
makes you think I’m running from anything?”
“No one hangs out with kkangpae unless they’re running from something worse,” Wooyoung
chuckles. He takes another drag, just the way Changbin taught him and coughs a little as he
hands it back.
“Maybe I just like you.”
“Maybe I think you’re full of shit.”
They’re too stoned to take anything seriously so they both end up laughing. At the door, San
shifts a little and watches them with a small frown.
“Come on,” Wooyoung goades, his bare foot kicking Changbin’s thigh lightly. “Out with it.
No secrets in the house of pain.”
Changbin chokes on the inhale. “This is the house of pain?”

God’s Menu might disagree with that.
“It is now,” Wooyoung promises, lazy grin playing on his lips as he inches his toes up
Changbin’s leg.
Changbin grabs his ankle and shoves it off before he can get anywhere near his crotch but
San is still frowning at the sight. Normally he’d do something about it but Wooyoung is still
angry. Stoned but angry. It says a lot that even in his jealousy, he isn’t going to stop this.
Changbin shifts a little where he’s sitting on the floor and shrugs. Thoughts of Felix plague
his mind but none so much as what happened that night. He’s never been much of a romantic,
it’s not his strong point and never has been but for Felix, his mind was coming up with the
sappiest of love songs and poems. Initial infatuation led to the soppiest of love poems playing
over and over in his head.
Then as the years went on and he convinced himself that Felix didn’t look at him that way, he
started composing one-sided love songs, ballads and (just a little bit) self-indulgent angst.
Now he knows it’s not true, now he knows Felix likes him back.
Or...he did until they had sex. Failed sex. In Changbin’s defense, he’s never done it before
either. But he knows (involuntarily) that sex is great. God knows he’s walked in on Jisung
and Minho too many times and heard them through the walls.
So how the hell did he fail so badly? The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt Felix and
yet that was exactly what he’d done.
“Lovey, if brooding were a sport, you’d be the Olympic champion,” Wooyoung says, cutting
in through his thoughts. “Really, why are you sitting around getting stoned with me?”
Changbin shrugs. “Maybe I really do like your company.”
“You probably do but there’s something else about it,” Wooyoung comments and when
Changbin looks at him, the boy shrugs. “Don’t fuck around with an empath. You’re not that
hard to read.”
Maybe if Changbin weren’t stoned, he might have thought better of it but he’s just stoned
enough that he’s past the point of caring. That and besides everyone at God’s Menu,
Wooyoung is - strangely enough - someone he considers a friend. The last few weeks
working with him has only proved to Changbin that in another world, they might have even
been the best of friends.
“I lost my virginity last week.”
Wooyoung almost chokes mid inhale. Even San raises an eyebrow but before either of them
can ask about it, Changbin soldiers on.
“And apparently I suck because...well the other guy hasn’t been able to look me in the eye
since. It hurt him.”
There’s a moment of silence and in that time, Changbin keeps his eyes on the floor. Neither
of them are laughing but he can feel their eyes on him. When he finally does look up,
Wooyoung is holding the spliff out to him which he gladly takes.
“I mean…” Wooyoung begins, a little awkwardly. “First times usually do suck. Especially if
you’re on the bottom - generally when you’re in for that kind of sex, someone’s gotta be on
the bottom.”
Changbin shakes his head, he exhales and hands the spliff off to San who has now come to sit
with them.
“Seriously, he hasn’t been able to talk to me. He limped, he couldn’t walk properly,”
Changbin shakes his head. “I suck.”
“Limped?” Wooyoung laughs. “Fuck man, what kind of monster schlong are you hiding in
those pants?”
San inhales wrong and chokes until Changbin leans over to hold his arm. Changbin points to
the spot in the middle of his chest and taps. “There, inhale and hold the smoke there, then
exhale.”
“Well the first time always sucks,” Wooyoung continues, albeit still a little amused. Possibly
more so because he’s stoned. “It’s called practice and if you were both virgins…”
“We were,” Changbin nods solemnly.
“Then the first time was guaranteed to be at least a little painful,” Wooyoung shrugs and
takes the spliff back from San when he’s finished. “It’s called practice. You can’t be expected
to know what you’re doing on the first try. Not even if you watch a lot of porn, it’s just
practice and experience.”
Changbin narrows his eyes a little and looks between San and Wooyoung. “Between...the two
of you, which one-?”
“We switch,” Wooyoung answers before San can. “But this isn’t about us, it’s about you.
Seriously, just find him and try again. It gets better with practice.”
Changbin thinks it over. Felix, sweet Felix. If he can get him to talk to him again then
maybe...just maybe…?
San gives him a weird look. “Maybe more prep is needed too. Make sure his virgin ass can
take whatever you’re packing in there.”
Changbin blinks and this time, he looks a little confused.
“Prep?”
“Uh...you know, prep?” Wooyoung prompts. “Use fingers, stretch the area out gently, lube,
all the good stuff to make sure your boy actually enjoys the ride?”
It takes a few seconds of silence before it dawns on both Wooyoung and San what happened.
“Oh my god that poor boys’ asshole,” San breathes.
Wooyoung just starts laughing. A wheezing, breathless laugh where he’s kicking his legs and
flailing his hands until he can get enough air in his lungs to laugh harder.
“Ohhh Lovey, noooo,” Wooyoung wheezes. “Oh my fucking god, I can’t breathe.”
Changbin’s clueless face is almost more than San can take because he shifts closer to sit next
to him. He throws an arm around his shoulders and with his other hand, he pulls out his
phone.
“Sex ed lesson one…”
The cafe had been a calculated decision. Located right in the middle of Busan, Chan had
chosen one of the trendiest cafes around. Popular with foreigners in particular, they served
drinks and snacks not often seen in the more traditional settings.
But it was also because the paparazzi would find him here and he knew it.
The son of the mayor and possible future president of South Korea, lunching in a trendy cafe
with his fiancee. The media would eat it up and he knew it.
He’s dressed casually. Ripped jeans, white shirt with a black leather jacket. He’d left his hair
alone and just like he knew it would, the summer humidity took to it and made the blonde
locks curl until they formed a small mop on his head. It added to the casual look.
He’s just nursing an ice tea when Kaeun appears. As usual, looking far too overdressed for a
cafe like this. White chiffon dress, golden ribbon around her tiny waist, her hair curled and
styled to protect against the humidity. Complete with white doll shoes, she reminds him a
little of Chief Yang’s underage lover and the thought makes him shiver a little.
Thank god Kaeun is actually of age. A spoilt, sheltered and protected brat but she’s not
underage. Despite the fact that this cafe is well known and well loved by many, she turns her
nose up at the scones on display as she orders herself a drink and comes through the cafe to
join him at the back.
“Okay, tell me why we’re doing this,” Kaeun huffs as she sits across from him and places her
drink down. “Aside from the fact that you clearly want to poison me with the shit they sell
here.”
Chan shakes his head and snorts. “Only you would turn your nose up at an overpriced drink
because it’s being made by poor people.”
“I have standards,” Kaeun points out as a manicured hand reaches out to drink from the straw
anyway. “So why are we doing this?”
“Media coverage,” Chan replies. “In about ten minutes, someone is going to notice we’re
here, recognise us and start taking pictures. When that happens, we’re going to end up on the
newspapers as Korea’s darling couple because it’s a lot more interesting than the upcoming
elections.”
“You’re trying to distract people from the fact that your father is an incompetent ass no one
likes,” Kaeun shoots back and Chan can only smile. She’s not exactly wrong.
“That’s not the only reason I called you here though,” he continues. “I actually want to talk to
you.”
Kaeun’s perfectly shaped eyebrow rises a little. “You could have called. Spared me the hassle
of coming out here just to look at your face.”
“Can you drop the bitch act for just a second?”
“It’s not an act.”
“Okay, then can you talk to me without the venom?” Chan asks. “I am trying to reach out
here. We’re getting married really soon and I want to make it work.”
A moment passes. He sees Kaeun trying to process what he said and when she does, a small
smile of disbelief appears.
“What? You want us to be happy? A happily married couple who actually live in the same
house and share the same bed?” she sneers. “Is this your way of asking me to move in?”
“No and I don’t advise it,” Chan says. “What I’m asking is for us to come up with an
arrangement to make this marriage as easy as possible on both of us. I’ll give you what you
want but you’ve got to work with me too. This marriage doesn’t have to destroy our lives and
since we have to do it, we might as well find a way to make it bearable.”
He gives her a moment to let that sink in. When it does, she straightens on her seat a little and
faces him properly. She really is quite beautiful, there isn’t a shortage of people who
wouldn’t mind being married to her. Rather than hating her, Chan finds he pities her. Not
because she was raised a sheltered rich girl with a silver spoon in her mouth, but because of
all the people she had to marry, it had to be him.
Kaeun nods slowly and Chan thinks he can see a sliver of her guard being let down. Just a
little. Kaeun wasn’t raised to trust anyone. Especially not whoever she’d marry.
“So how do we make this work?” she asks. “I assume you want things from me?”
“I have things I want, yes,” Chan admits quietly. “They’re not conditions so much as...I need
these things in order for us to get through this unscathed because here’s how I see it: We’re
getting married. We both hate it but there’s absolutely no way around it.”
Kaeun nods, she’s actively listening and Chan continues.
“Since we can’t avoid that, what we can do is make sure that - married or not - both of us are
happy with how it works. Both of us get what we want from the other.”
“Why?” Kaeun asks, her arms folding as she watches him skeptically. “Why are you doing it
like this? The second you marry me, you could stick me in your house like a good little
trophy wife. Like everyone else including my father does. Why do you care what I want?”
“Because I want one less pain in the ass in my life,” Chan answers clearly. “Because I want
one less enemy. I’ve seen so many people in horrible marriages because they treated each
other like shit. Their dirty laundry gets aired out on social media because inevitably one of
them fucked around with the wrong person and got caught. I don’t want that to be us. I want
you to know that even though I don’t want to marry you, I will look after you. If you want
something, I’ll give it to you, if you need protection, I’ll make sure it happens and if you fall
in love with someone, I will do everything in my power to make sure you get to be with them
even if you can never marry them. I don’t want an enemy from you, Kaeun, I want to make
your life easier if you can make mine easier.”
Silence falls and Kaeun is staring at him like she’s never seen him before. Indeed, after such
an impassioned speech, Chan feels a little awkward too. He’d meant it though. She didn’t
choose it and neither did he but they didn’t have to make this harder than it already was.
“Here comes the cavalry,” Kaeun says, nodding her head very subtly to something behind
Chan. “Man just outside, standing on the road, just recognised us.”
“Lean in and look at me.”
She does as she’s told and Chan leans in as well. It’s the picture of a couple in love, their
honeyed words so quiet even in such a public area and that’s why they’re leaning into each
other. Chan has to hand it to her, she’s a good actress. She’s been raised to be one.
Chan meets her eyes and reaches his hand across the table to rest gently on top of hers. They
can hear the shutter of a camera somewhere nearby and make no move to acknowledge it.
“I want to make your life easier,” Chan assures her. “So tell me what you want and I’ll give it
to you.”
Something shifts in her dark eyes. Is that hesitation? She leans in a little closer and Chan can
smell the perfume coming from her skin. Sweet, subtle and gentle, it doesn’t suit her real
personality but it suits the one she projects on the outside.
“I want a black credit card.”

“Done.”
“I want my own apartment, I want to choose it.”
“Done.”
“I want a dog.”
“Done.”
Kaeun blinks, she turns her hand slightly and starts rubbing his thumb with hers, just slightly.
Another camera shutter.
“You can’t give me everything I want, rich boy,” she warns him. “There are other things I
want, things you can’t buy.”
“Try me,” Chan smiles just in time for another not-so-subtle picture from someone sitting a
few tables away. “If I can’t buy it, I can work for it. What do you want?”
“I want you to stop cheating on me.”
“We’re not married yet, I’m not cheating,” Chan replies quickly.
“You’re still keeping that little Australian boy near you.”
“I’m not cheating on you with Felix.”
“I want you to stop lying to me.”
“I’m not lying.”
Chan watches her, they’re sitting too close, gazing into each others eyes and holding each
others hands but he can see it. The look in her eye is cold as ice and she doesn’t believe him.
He sighs.
“I’m not sleeping with Felix but I’ll admit, I am sleeping around,” he says. “If you want,
once we get married, I’ll stop it.”
That takes her by surprise. She blinks at him and frowns. “Really? You’d give that up just for
me?”
“Sex is an itch to scratch, I’m not seeing anyone seriously,” Chan assures her. “That and these
days I’m too busy. I can give it up if it’ll placate you.”
“An itch,” Kaeun laughs quietly. “If you give it up, won’t you get itchy?”
“I can bear it,” Chan assures her. “If it matters that much to you, I’ll stop fucking around.”
Kaeun holds his gaze a little longer. Then she nods slowly and goes back to stroking his
thumb. “Okay. One more thing, then.”
“Name it.”
This time it’s different. Chan sees Kaeun’s face change and she’s not skeptical, not confused
or indifferent anymore. She seems to struggle to put into words what she’s about to say next
and it takes her a few moments to think of the right way to say it.
“As you know, my father is archaic.”
“He’s selling you off to me like a prized pig, yes he’s archaic,” Chan agrees. “Go on.”
“I am his only daughter and he never quite forgave me for it,” Kaeun confesses. “He always
told me how much he wanted a son. It wasn’t until I was about twelve that he started to see
me as something that would benefit him in the future. He could sell me off to the highest
bidder and raise his own status in the process.”
Not an uncommon tale, not in their circles. If Chan were born a girl, his father would have
done the same.
“Because of this, he put a lot of stock on my looks, the image I project and my virginity,”
Kaeun says, albeit a little hesitantly. “He had me checked once every three months to ensure
it.”
Chan blinks. “Excuse me?”
“He took me to a doctor, paid him money and said: check that she’s still a virgin,” Kaeun tells
him. “And they did and they were always male doctors. My father puts so much pride on the
fact that he’s selling his daughter to someone untouched, like I’m a brand new thing, never
been touched or let out of the box.”
Chan frowns, he’s still not sure what that has to do with him.
“I don’t win against my father, he always gets what he wants,” Kaeun finally admits. “I want
to win against him in just one thing. I want to walk down that aisle in a white dress but not a
virgin.”
This time, it takes Chan a little longer for the message to sink in. When it does, he feels a
cold dread creeping down his spine.
“You...want to have sex before we get married?”
“Yes,” Kaeun nods. “I want that white dress to be a lie. I want this one win against my father
for treating me as something he can sell off.”
Already Chan is thinking about how to get this one done. “I can...find someone, maybe?”
But he can see it, the look on Kaeun’s face tells him she already has someone in mind.
“Or you can do it,” she suggests.
Another camera flash, Chan works not to let his face look as shocked as he feels.
“...me?”
“Yes, you,” Kaeun shrugs. “You want to make me happy, you want this marriage to work, I
may as well find out what you’re like in bed.”
“I won’t be able to satisfy you, that much I can guarantee,” Chan tells her quickly.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“I prefer guys.”
“I don’t care.”
“I’m not into you.”
“The feeling is mutual but that’s why they invented viagra.”
Chan leans back a bit in his chair. For appearances, he keeps his hand in hers but his mind is
already whirring at full speed. Trying to find a way out of this but there is none. Not if Kaeun
won’t accept anyone else, not if she already has her mind set on him.
He looks at her. “How important is this last thing?”
“Very,” Kaeun tells him. “This is something I actually want, I don’t want to be an untouched
bride and I’m not stupid enough to think I can just get it on with some random guy and not
get caught. It has to be you, I want it to be you.”
“Why?” Chan chokes. “You hate me.”
To that, Kaeun’s face changes a little. Something a little more hesitant, a little more
vulnerable and Chan frowns.
“You do...hate me, right?”
“Not exactly,” Kaeun admits quietly. “All my life I’ve been raised with the knowledge that
one day I’m going to have to marry someone. My father even told me that if my husband was
old or hated me or ugly, I’d have to grin and bear it because that would be my job. I’ve
always expected to have to marry someone older than my father. Someone powerful but
impotent, cruel and ugly in every way and then I find out it’s you.”
Chan stares, she’s being honest which is something he’s not used to but the raw vulnerability
on her face is real and he hadn’t been expecting it.
“You’re not old, you’re not ugly, you’re on every single tabloid with your charming smile
and your honeyed words.”
“I’m also emotionally unavailable and a raging homosexual,” Chan points out bluntly.
Kaeun just smiles. “You’re marrying me. If you want me to be happy, if you want me to not
be a pain in your ass, this is what I want. I want one night with you before we get married.”
She meets his eyes and Chan takes a deep breath. She might be more trouble than he realised.
“Let me believe, for one night, that the man I’m marrying wants and loves me. Give me that
and I’ll be the easiest wife you’ll ever have.”
Another camera shutter. Chan closes his eyes and takes another breath. He thinks about
Minho. Minho, who’d stormed out of his office in tears the other day and he wonders what
he’d think about this ultimatum. What would Felix think about it? Or Jisung or Changbin? He
knows he can do it, he’s been raised to act just like her but this is different because it’ll mean
something to her.
“I have my own conditions,” he admits. “But this one is the most important.”
Kaeun nods. “I’m listening.”
“Never fall in love with me,” Chan tells her. “I’m not just saying this for my sake but yours
as well. When I say I’m emotionally unavailable, I mean it. Given what I do, what I have to
do and what I’m about to do, no one should ever fall in love with me. It would be the worst
decision they could ever make so I’m warning you now, do not fall for me. Don’t even try. If
I do this for you, you need to remember that it won’t be real and never will be.”
“Relax, Chan,” Kaeun says, her hand squeezing his. “I’m not going to catch feelings.”
Chan narrows his eyes. If only it were as easy as simply choosing not to catch feelings. If he
could choose, he’d have done so already.
“Aside from that one, my other conditions include never harassing or touching any of my
staff - that includes Felix.”
“Yes, yes, sure I won’t touch your precious Australian,” Kaeun huffs with a wave of her
hand.
“Don’t wander into God’s Menu unannounced.”
“Like I want to touch your sketchy restaurant,” Kaeun scrunches her nose. “But fine, yes, I’ll
adhere to that one.”
“And if you start seeing someone, all I ask is that you be discreet about it. If you need help
hiding a lover, let me help.”
“Fine,” Kaeun smiles in time for another camera shutter. “That’ll work. Are we done here?”
Chan nods and finally they let go of each others hands. They stand and walk together, both
throwing out their half empty drinks into the bin. As they reach the door, they hold hands like
they’ve rehearsed it and they can both feel eyes on them even as they walk out onto the
footpath.
“When do you want it?” Chan asks as he leads her down the road. He links his fingers with
hers and tries to ignore the fact that they’re being followed. “The...you know.”
“Sweeping me off my feet with the romance, Bang Chan,” Kaeun drawls. She looks over her
shoulder to check but when she sees paparazzi, she turns back to look at him. “I’m guessing
you don’t want my father to know that you’re going to deflower me.”
“If he finds out, he might pull out of the deal so no,” Chan replies. “We do this, we’re doing
it quietly. You can walk down the aisle satisfied that you won this against him but he can’t
know about it. Not right away anyway, if you want to tell him after we get married then be
my guest.”
“Then tomorrow night,” Kaeun says. “I want a hotel, somewhere nice with a view.”
Chan can feel something extremely uncomfortable squatting in his chest at the thought of
doing this but still he nods.
“Done.”
“Good, here’s my driver,” Kaeun gestures to the car pulled up against the sidewalk. She turns
to Chan and leans in. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Chan nods and for the sake of the camera, he leans in to kiss her. A chaste kiss, brief but
enough for the cameras. He then watches as she pulls back from him and heads into the car.
When her driver pulls away, Chan closes his eyes and takes another breath.
Here comes another migraine.
The next day at God’s Menu is different. Whilst the others ask about Minho’s sudden
absence, Jisung quickly explains it away by saying he’s ill. Jeongin takes one look at the
worry in his eyes and knows that Jisung probably doesn’t know much about the fight last
night - if he knows about it at all.
“It’s weird,” Felix comments as he, Seungmin and Jeongin walk back into the kitchen. Out in
the main room, Changbin is taking over Minho’s job for the day. “Minho never gets sick.”
Jeongin keeps his head down for the day and it helps that it’s a weekend and therefore busier
than normal. By the time the restaurant finally closes, his hands are numb as usual and
Changbin is loudly proclaiming he had no idea Minho’s job was so difficult. When they’re
finally winding down, Felix looks nervous. He keeps looking at the main room, craning his
head to spot a glimpse of Changbin.
Chan appears before closing. He pokes his head in through the back door and looks around
the kitchen.
“Hyung, did you know Minho’s sick?” Felix asks and Chan nods.
“Heard about that.”
Only Jeongin catches on the fact that Chan’s face is a little more guarded than usual. Eyes
avoidant as he lies. Neither Seungmin nor Felix seem to notice anything off.
“I’m heading out, just checking in,” Chan announces and nods towards the main room. “Did
Binnie do alright?”
“He’s nowhere near prepared for the workload Minho handles but he survived,” Seungmin
shrugs, halfway through drying a pot. “He’s alive.”
“Good, good,” Chan sighs. “Alright, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“Bye Chan,” Felix waves.
Jeongin catches something weird about Chan’s expression, something off but Chan is gone
before he can really see it. He stares at the closed door Chan just left through and shakes his
head.
Whatever happened, he’s probably better off not knowing. Curiosity has never gotten him
anything good in this restaurant.
Jisung heads out first, his eyes still slightly worried. Alone in the kitchen with Felix, Jeongin
cranes his head around to look through the window. He spots Hyunjin still clearing the main
floor, Seungmin sweeping the floor and at the podium, Changbin is looking over the receipts.
“Fe?”
“Mm?”
Jeongin points to the door and it takes Felix a moment to understand what he’s getting at but
when the ball drops, Felix pales.
“Now?” he whispers, suddenly frantic. “I...I don’t know what to say though!”
“Start with telling him I bought you lube last night at 2 in the morning,” Jeongin replies as he
shoves Felix towards the door with what could be construed as rough encouragement. “Good
luck!”
Through the window, he sees Hyunjin packing away the last of the tables and motions to the
back door, a silent indication that he’d meet him out there. Felix and Changbin need their
privacy and he can only hope they’re not so hopeless they’ll fuck this one up too.
Pulling up to the hotel, Chan climbs out of the car and looks up at the grand building. He’d
chosen Paradise Hotel because he knew it would suit her tastes. Rich, nice view, middle of
the city, what the upper class like them normally choose.
Chan is numb, his ears humming a little as he walks in. Hotel staff open the doors for him
before he even reaches it and he doesn’t have to check in. Kaeun already did so three hours
earlier, just according to plan to avoid detection. Because if she does it alone, the staff see her
and don’t think twice. If he walks in and heads straight for the room, the staff who see him
are unlikely to realise it’s her he’s going to.
He hits the call button for the elevator and takes a deep breath. There’s a certain headspace he
can get into - especially when he has to do things he doesn’t want to do. When he can switch
everything off and just...be. Running on autopilot with absolutely no thought process to go
with it. He focuses even as he walks into the elevator and pushes the button for the fifteenth
floor.
He can do this. He’s done worse than sleeping with a girl just to keep things moving. Keep
the plan going.
It’s just when the elevator hits the fifteenth floor that the buzz of his phone breaks his focus.
He pulls it out of his pocket and freezes when he sees Minho’s name on the screen.
Unbidden, his blank mindspace is suddenly filled with him. Minho screaming at him, crying
at him. He’d never seen him so upset and he couldn’t blame him for it either.
He steps out of the elevator and though he knows it’s not a good idea - especially now - he
answers the call.
“I don’t want to fight, Minho.”
A small, bitter laugh. “Well neither do I. After all these years I’ve kind of figured out how
stubborn you are. Nothing I say or do is going to change this.”
Chan feels a stab of pain, he shakes his head. “Please don’t make this harder than it already
is.”
“I didn’t call for a fight,” Minho replies tiredly. “I just want to talk. Hear me out.”
Chan looks down the hallway and he doesn’t want to go any further. But if any of this is
going to work, he’s going to have to. He turns his attention back to his phone and goes to lean
on the wall. “Okay,” he says, his voice automatically softening a little as he sinks down to sit
on the floor.
“I don’t approve of what you’re doing,” Minho says. “And I won’t lie, I went home and
considered quitting so I wouldn’t have to see you again. I cried in Han’s arms and couldn’t
tell him why.”
Chan closes his eyes and listens to Minho’s voice.
“But after sleeping on it, I came to understand why you’re doing what you’re doing. I still
don’t approve but I get it. So I won’t leave, but I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything,” Chan finds himself saying.
“When you need help, don’t do it alone. Lean on me.”
Something hurts. Deep in his chest, something is aching like he’s been shot. Chan has to pull
the phone away from himself as his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. His eyes are
squeezed shut and he holds his breath. He can’t cry or even sound broken. Not now, not when
Minho can hear him.
When he’s sure he’s serene enough, he puts his phone back to his ear. “Deal.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise,” Chan replies and his voice breaks.
There’s a pause. Far too long for comfort. Before Minho can speak, Chan beats him to it.
“I’ve got to go.”
“Chris-”
Chan hangs up before Minho can speak. He doesn’t realise it until he puts his phone down
but he’s shaking. When something wet lands on his hand, he lifts it to feel his cheek and sure
enough, he’s been crying.
It takes him an extra ten minutes to pull himself together. He rubs his face, gives himself time
to breathe and it’s so much harder to numb himself to what he’s going to do now. By the time
he pulls himself up onto his feet again, his mind is still a mess but at least he doesn’t look like
he’s been crying.
His legs move on their own, his eyes far away as he reaches the right door and knocks.
Outside, he’s numb but inside…
The door opens, Kaeun appears and steps aside to let him in.
He walks in and when the door closes behind him, he closes his eyes. Minho’s voice never
leaves his mind.
Outside the restaurant, the cool air kisses Jeongin’s skin, the sound of crickets echoes along
the parking lot as he pulls his bag over his shoulder and leans against the wall to wait for
Hyunjin. He glances at Chan’s office and frowns. Something is definitely up. He almost
regrets not sticking around longer to find out, his curiosity gets him in trouble a lot but he
can’t help himself.
If it was something he could possibly help with…
“Jeongin.”
He looks up, startled to see his father striding towards him. A little behind him is a car,
haphazardly parked. When did he get here?
His father marches right up to him and grabs his arm. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“What?! No!” Jeongin yelps, he tries to pull his arm out of his father’s grip but the man is
strong.
His father starts pulling him towards the car and Jeongin barely has enough time to catch up
and realise what’s happening but immediately his heart starts thundering in his chest. Fear,
pure fear as he’s dragged out.
“What are you doing?!” Jeongin squeaks, his heels trying to slow his father down as he
demands an explanation. “Dad! Where are we going?!”
“Away from here,” his father announces. “I’ve got plane tickets and fake identities from one
of my contacts. We’re getting away.”
“No! Dad!” Jeongin screams and when the back door opens, his mind finally clicks that this
is actually real and his father really does intend to take him away. With his free hand, he grips
the car to stop his father shoving him in and looks over his shoulder.
“Hyunjin!” he shrieks, panicked and wide eyed as his father tries to shove him in. “Hyunjin!”
In the distance, he can see the back door opening just as his father successfully rips his hand
off the door and shoves him into the back. The car door closes just as Jeongin spots
Seungmin, confused and alarmed, looking at the scene before quickly ducking back inside -
hopefully to get Hyunjin.
Frantic, Jeongin tries the door but it’s locked, he reaches for the other one but it too, won’t
budge from the inside. He looks up and in the front seat, there’s a girl much younger than
him. She’s using the mirror on the visor above her head to check her makeup. When she sees
his reflection, she smiles.
“Hi!”
His father climbs into the drivers seat and Jeongin stares at her in disbelief. “Who the fuck
are you?!”
The car starts and Jeongin looks out to see the back door opening and Hyunjin - thank god -
racing towards him. He slams on the window with his palm and screams Hyunjin’s name just
as the car speeds out of the parking lot and onto the road.
“No!” Jeongin screams, he twists in his seat but Hyunjin and Seungmin’s forms are shrinking
in the distance. His father is driving well over the speeding limit, in a hurried rush as he
drives out into traffic.
Panting, Jeongin turns back to the front and hits his father’s shoulder.
“Stop the car! Let me out!” he screams. “I don’t want to go, let me out!”
“Jeongin sit down and buckle your seatbelt,” his father admonishes firmly. “We’re getting
away. No son of mine will be under the thumb of someone like Bang Chan and neither will I.
We’re starting again, somewhere he can’t reach us.”
The girl in the front seat seems to have absolutely no concept of how serious the situation is
because she turns to his father and beams. “Can we go to Paris?”
Jeongin stares in disbelief and it occurs to him that had his father done this a few months ago,
he’d have gone without a peep. Not because he wanted to go but because his father scared
him and he always did. Jeongin didn’t want to go to the police academy, but he’d gone
because he obeyed his father. This time however...the thought of leaving Hyunjin or Gods
Menu was enough to scare him more.
The car jostles him about. His father is driving so recklessly and all around them, the other
cars on the road are honking angrily as his father cuts corners, changes lanes and speeds their
way towards the airport.
Jeongin shakes his head. “I’m not gonna go,” he says. “I won’t do it. You’re an idiot if you
think you can escape Chan, do you have any idea how far his influence goes?!”
“Jeongin, don’t argue with me.”
“I won’t do it!” Jeongin screams. “I’ll fight you every single fucking inch of the way, I will
try to run from you every chance I get, I’m not going!”
Still his father keeps driving, they’re heading out of the city now and Jeongin recognises the
road emptying as the houses disappear and are replaced with untouched paddocks on either
side of the road. Few people live this far out, even fewer drive this way out too. Not unless
they’re heading for the airport.
A bang and the car veers to the right. His father curses, the girl in the front screams and
Jeongin looks up to see another car driving too close to them. Hanging out the window,
Hyunjin has a gun in his hand pointing at the tires. Behind him in the drivers seat is
Seungmin.
Hyunjin sees Jeongin and with his free hand, he motions downwards, a silent command to
duck.
Jeongin does as he’s told, he ducks and covers his head with his arms just in time for Hyunjin
to shoot out the front tire.
Jeongin closes his eyes, he can’t see it but he can hear it and he can feel it. His father cursing,
the girl screaming and the car screeching as it finally veers off the road. He grips the seat but
the car feels like it’s flying and he loses his balance. For a split second, he feels like he’s
flying, his body falls from the chair and he has no idea where up or down is anymore.
Then a crash, loud and deafening. Glass breaks, Jeongin feels his back hit something hard
and for a second he thinks he loses consciousness.
When he opens his eyes, there’s glass all around him. In front of him, a broken window and it
takes him a few seconds to realise he’s lying on the roof of the car because the car is upside
down. Something in his left arm is aching and when he tries to move, a sharp pain shoots
through his shoulder.
He can hear the girl whimpering but he doesn’t bother to look. He can hear his father
groaning too but at the moment, all he can do is crawl towards the door.
He sees shoes through the window, someone rips the mangled door open as much as it can
and Hyunjin leans in with his arms outstretched. Jeongin manages to grab his hand and feels
Hyunjin pulling him out. Glass bumps against his skin but Hyunjin is careful as he reaches
for Jeongin and pulls him out of the wreck.
Jeongin’s legs are wobbling as he climbs out. He reaches his other arm for Hyunjin and
screams when the same pain shoots through him.
“Easy, Innie,” Hyunjin breathes but his eyes give him away. He’s shaking and it’s not until
Jeongin grips him that he realises he was too.
The very real scare of being taken away from him is enough for Jeongin to forget the pain in
his shoulder for just a moment so he can cling to Hyunjin. His working arm is grabbing him,
holding him so tightly and Hyunjin isn’t holding back either. Hands on Jeongin’s back,
gripping his clothing, panting in his ear, he was just as startled.
“That shoulder looks dislocated,” Seungmin comments, appearing behind Hyunjin to look
over it.
He and Hyunjin examine Jeongin’s shoulder and as they do so, Jeongin is finally able to see
the damage around him.
There are several black tire marks on the road. His father’s car is upside down on the
paddock. Because they’re quite a bit out of the city already, not many people have noticed the
wreck, the occasional car drives past but they can’t see the car in such a poorly lit area.
“Take a deep breath, Innie,” Hyunjin whispers.
His arm is yanked and Jeongin screams as there’s a popping sound when his shoulder is
pulled back into place. Cold sweat breaks over his brow as Hyunjin rubs it and Jeongin
slumps into his chest.
“Are they alive?” Hyunjin asks.
Jeongin turns to see Seungmin leaning down to examine the inside. He reaches in and grabs
the girl out first. She’s barely conscious, a little incoherent and her head is bleeding where
she probably smacked it into the dashboard. Seungmin sets her aside and walks around to the
other side of the car where he leans in to check on Jeongin’s father.
“Alive,” he comments. “He should live.”
“Good,” Hyunjin growls. He lets go of Jeongin and marches to the car.
Jeongin watches, shaking and still in shock as Hyunjin yanks the door open and reaches in.
He can hear his father shouting as he is forcibly dragged out of the car and thrown onto the
grass. The first thing Hyunjin does, despite the fact that Jeongin’s father is already bleeding
from his head and covered in glass, is kick him in the stomach.
Chief Yang coughs, he wheezes and curls in on himself but it doesn’t protect him from
Hyunjin’s next kick to his lower back.
“Fucker,” Hyunjin hisses, he leans down and grabs Chief Yang’s hair, yanking him up to look
at him. “Look at me. I’m going to be the last thing your eyes ever see, you fucking bastard.”
Either his father is already half conscious or he’s incapable of answering. Jeongin can’t tell
which. He shivers, the full force of what just happened hitting him all at once, putting him
into shock as his body shakes. Every part of him aches and his vision keeps blurring.
He sways, the movement causing Hyunjin to look away from his father and up at him instead.
Hyunjin is so distracted by Jeongin that he doesn’t see Chief Yang’s uninjured arm reach
inside his jacket for the gun hidden inside. He pulls it out and aims up at Hyunjin’s chest.
“Hyunjin!” Seungmin screams.
Jeongin collapses as the distant bang of a gun echoes in the empty paddock.
Chapter End Notes
Yoooouuuuu thought you were safe~~~
You're getting this chapter way earlier than you were originally supposed to. Not only
did it shoot effortlessly out of my head but my sister (who is a dedicated stay) told me
that holding the chapter any longer than one week would have been cruel considering
the spoiler dropped on Twitter a few days ago.
In my defence, the reason why I wanted to hold off a little longer was to buy myself
time to write the chapter after this one which I can already tell is going to be a bitch to
write, it would have basically meant less waiting time after the absolute clusterfuck that
is this chapter. But my sister won that argument so you guys are gonna have to bear with
me whilst I fight the next chapter - wish me luck!
As always, your comments, your messages and tweets keep me going :)

See you next time!
XX: Aequam servare mentem
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
Pressing his forehead against the door, Jisung closes his eyes and tries not to react to the
sound of the crying he can hear inside.
Since he fell in love with Lee Minho, he can count on maybe one hand the amount of times
he’s ever seen him cry. Minho used to say it was because he was strong (and perhaps a little
dead inside) that he could take anything but Jisung surmised it probably had more to do with
simple inability to show emotions to others.
What scares him this time is that in the rare times Minho did cry, he always told Jisung why -
if Jisung didn’t already know. This time, he has no idea and it terrifies him.
“Baby,” he calls, his hand resting gently against the wood of the door. He knocks quietly.
“Talk to me.”
A sniffle. Jisung bites his lip, he hates hearing Minho cry. It’s possibly the worst sound in the
world, all the more so because he hardly ever hears it.
Minho had left work early yesterday, that in itself was unusual enough but today he’d taken
the day off. Something he never ever did. Jisung had told the others that Minho was simply
sick but what else could he tell them when even he didn’t know what had set Minho off?
He waits, never moving from his spot until he finally hears movement from inside the
bathroom thirty minutes later. The door opens and Jisung looks up to see Minho standing in
front of him. Red eyed, puffy faced and exhausted. He can’t stand the sight.
Leaning in, Jisung wraps his arms around Minho and lets the other lean into him. He holds
him tighter, kissing his head even as he feels Minho shaking again.
He steps back and brings Minho out to their bedroom. Sitting him on the bed, Jisung kneels
in front of him and brings his hands up to wipe the tears from Minho’s cheeks with his
thumbs. He holds Minho’s face in his hands and meets his eyes.
“Talk to me,” he begs. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”
To his dismay, Minho just shakes his head. A few more tears escaping as he sobs and brings
his hands back up to hide his face. Jisung sits back on his heels, a little lost as he watches
Minho breaking down again. Last night he hadn’t been able to get an answer out of him
either, Minho had simply been inconsolable and today is no better.
He’d have stayed home with him if Gods Menu could have spared him. And if Minho would
have let him but it was Minho who insisted he go to work today.
Not that he was much use on the floor, he was too busy worrying about Minho to pay much
attention to the fact that Hyunjin was handling most of the orders and Changbin was
drowning under Minho’s workload.
Left with no answers, Jisung gets up and heads for the kitchen instead. The cats follow him
as he pours a glass of water for Minho and comes back to kneel in front of him again. He
pushes the glass into Minho’s hand and watches as the other drinks it down. He wipes the
new tears from Minho’s face and takes the empty glass to set it back down on the floor.
Then he looks at Minho and it’s unfair. Even splotchy, red eyed and puffy faced, Minho is
still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
Minho shakes his head, his lip wobbling again. “I can’t…”
“It’s okay,” Jisung assures him. “You don’t have to tell me right now, but I need you to tell
me one day. Can you do that?”
Minho nods and leans forward until he’s in Jisung’s arms again, his face hiding in his
shoulder where he wets his shirt with warm tears.
They end up on the floor. Minho kind of just leans forward until he slides onto Jisung’s lap.
With his arms and legs wrapped around him, Minho curls around Jisung’s entire body and
stays there. Jisung smiles and presses small kisses to his neck with his hand rubbing Minho’s
back as at last the other stops crying.
The cats are staring at them. All four of them sitting around them in a half circle.
Jisung narrows his eyes. “The cats are plotting something,” he mutters.
Minho pulls his face out of Jisung’s shoulder and looks up as Jisung holds him tighter to
himself - in case the cats attack.
“They’re just planning their ritual sacrifice,” Minho surmises with a small sniff. He reaches a
hand out and pets Dori, scratching behind her ears. “Not this time, guys. You get to sacrifice
Han next time.”
“Me?!” Jisung splutters with wide eyes. At last, Minho cracks a small grin and he’s glad to
see it. “Sacrifice me for what?!”
“Some watermelon,” Minho shrugs. “Maybe a bit of cat food. Cats really don’t ask for
much.”
Minho’s laugh is beautiful and heaven sent on Jisung’s ears when he pokes the other and
finally gets him giggling. Just as Minho curls back into him, this time for more of a cuddle
than a crying session, Jisung’s phone goes off where it sits on the edge of the bed.
With one arm he keeps a tight grip on Minho and with the other he reaches a hand out to grab
his phone and answer it.
“Binnie, what’s…”
Minho looks at him and watches the exact moment Jisung’s face turns from relaxed to pale
and terrified. The colour drops from his face and immediately, Minho sits up and grabs his
arm. Few things can make Jisung panic that fast.
“Uh...is Chan…?” Jisung stumbles over his words and Minho starts to feel the anxiety too.
Something has gone very, very wrong.
“Okay,” Jisung nods, he pats Minho’s back and on cue, Minho climbs off him so they can
both stand up. “Okay, we’ll be there soon.”
As soon as he hangs up, Minho grabs his hand.
“What is it?” he asks, half-panicking himself. “What’s wrong?”
Jisung shakes his head, wide eyes still unable to believe what Changbin had told him. “It’s
Hyunjin.”
Following the doctors, Seungmin is covered in blood and panicking. There’s a rush in the
emergency room and the noise blends together in a cacophony of screaming and rushed
orders. Someone bumps into him but all Seungmin can see are the two stretchers being
rushed to the treatment room. In one, Jeongin and in the other, Hyunjin.
Someone grabs his shoulders and Seungmin is about to fight him off when he realises it’s
Felix.
“Easy, easy,” he tells him. “Let them work.”
They’re led into the waiting room and it’s not long before Changbin, Minho and Jisung join
them. A flurry of anxiety, rushed questions with no answers. Seungmin holds his head and as
much as he tries to process the last hour, he can’t.
There’s so much blood all over his hands. He remembers screaming Hyunjin’s name and
watching the other fall. He remembers blind rage as he attacked Chief Yang and in a moment
of clarity, he was able to call Changbin for help. He’d interrupted whatever Changbin was
doing with Felix but after that, things worked far too fast.
It was Felix who’d called for an ambulance and in the midst of his panic, Seungmin realised
Changbin was taking Chief Yang and the girl away.
Now he’s here, in a waiting room with Hyunjin’s blood all over his hands and all he can think
about is how perfect the shot had been.
How could it not be? Chief Yang shot him at point blank range.
“Seungmin, sit down,” Felix says after a moment of watching Seungmin pace anxiously.
“Has anyone heard from Chan?”
Changbin shakes his head. “He’s not answering his phone.”
Felix takes Seungmin’s shoulders and helps him sit next to him. Normally, Felix’s presence is
calming - even to Seungmin but right now, all Seungmin can think of is the sight of Hyunjin
lying there.
It feels like hours before Chan finally appears through the doors, panicked, rushed and with
messy hair. It’s Felix who jumps up first. He rushes to him and wraps his arms around him,
burying his face in his chest for a moment before pulling back with a confused look.
“You smell like…”
“Has anyone heard from the doctors yet?” Chan asks, gently cutting the confused Felix off as
he leads him back to the group.
The rest shake their heads. Every now and then, Seungmin keeps checking the doors where
they’d rushed Hyunjin and Jeongin away but nothing seems to have moved since then. Chan
takes a seat next to Changbin and if Changbin notices the scent coming from him, he makes
no comment about it.
Another long, agonizing hour passes before the doctor finally appears and approaches them.
“They’ll both live,” the doctor says immediately. The group feel a collective sigh of relief
rush over them before he continues. “Mr Yang suffered some internal bleeding and a
moderately serious bump to the head so he’ll be in here for some time. Mr Hwang has lost a
lot of blood but the shot managed to miss major organs and we were able to get it out with
little to no shards left in his body.”
“Do you need blood?” Chan asks. “I’m compatible with his blood type, take mine if you need
it.”
“No, take mine,” Minho says, standing suddenly to face the doctor. “I’m a universal type.”
The others are too frazzled, too confused by the situation to really pay attention to the
warning look Minho gives Chan and the way Chan backs down almost immediately.
The doctor takes Minho away and when he’s gone, Chan looks over the others. Felix is sitting
very close to Changbin, Seungmin still has his face buried in his hands and Jisung is zoning
out, staring at nothing. Chan takes a seat next to him and as soon as he does, Jisung leans
over to rest his head on his shoulder.
“They’ll live,” Chan says, voice barely a whisper as the news registers in his panicked brain.
Jisung nods. “They will. But I can’t guarantee the same for Chief Yang.”
They’re left to wait and the longer the time stretches, the more restless the group become.
“What happened to Chief Yang?” Chan asks, the thought finally occurring to him. “Tell me
what happened.”
“He and his underage lover are in the freezer, that’s where I left them,” Changbin mutters, his
hand absently stroking Felix’s hair. “Seungmin did a number on him. He’s not going
anywhere.”
“Is he alive?” Chan asks.
Changbin nods and Chan thinks it over. “We can’t kill them. Not yet. As tempting as it is to
kill him for what he did, he might be more useful to us alive.”
“How?” Seungmin speaks up, a little irritated already. “How the fuck is that shrivelled up
pedophile more useful alive than dead?”
“Because of who he is,” Chan says. “Because of what he’s done. Bin, go back to the
restaurant and keep both of them alive. We’re going to need them later.”
Changbin glances at the doors to the emergency room. He looks a little reluctant but after a
moment, he nods and rises from his chair. “Keep me informed,” he tells them. “I wanna know
when they wake up.”
“I’ll come with you,” Chan says, rising as he turns to Felix. “Let us know of any changes?”
Felix nods. He still looks a little confused, he recognised the scent on Chan but right now
isn’t the best time to mention such a thing. Not when everyone is already on edge about
Hyunjin and Jeongin. Instead he kisses Changbin goodbye and watches as both of them leave
the waiting room.
Then he sits down next to Seungmin and reaches out to hold his hand.
Seungmin would normally slap him off - he’s not exactly the touchy sort - which is why it
surprises Felix when instead of shaking his hand off, Seungmin instead squeezes his hand and
doesn’t let go.
Felix looks at him. Seungmin is covered in blood. Hyunjin’s blood. It’s streaked up his arms,
all along his chest and a little on his pants as well as his face. When Felix looks in his eyes,
he can already tell the other isn’t there. He’s barely hanging on, his grip is clammy and
shaking and although Felix had only seen the aftermath, he can’t imagine what Seungmin had
witnessed.
Before long, Minho comes back with a bandage on his arm and a chocolate chip cookie for
sugar. He slumps in the chair next to Jisung and snuggles into his arm.
It feels like hours. The four of them waiting. Seungmin never lets go of Felix’s hand and
Felix tries not to overthink. The scent on Chan’s clothes, the injuries on Hyunjin and Jeongin.
To think, they’d very nearly lost both of them tonight.
If Jeongin’s father had actually managed to take him away...if he was a better shot and
actually hit Hyunjin’s heart…
Too many ifs and not enough certainty of anything.
When the doctor finally says they can see them, it’s nearly four in the morning. Visiting hours
are well past over but it must have been the seriousness of the situation that allowed the
exception. The four are led towards the elevator and they’re taken to the wards on the seventh
floor.
Down the hallway, Seungmin’s grip on Felix’s hand tightens and Felix can understand.
None of them have good experiences with hospitals. The corridor is thick with the scent of
antiseptic and sickness.
At last, they’re led into a quiet room with two beds on either side. Between them, a window
shows the view of the park just beyond the hospital and the busy streets beyond that. To the
left, Jeongin is still unconscious but thankfully only hooked to one drip for hydration.
It’s Hyunjin that catches their eyes. Hyunjin, who is hooked up to so many machines. There’s
a breathing mask over his beautiful face, his chest is wrapped in a white bandage and red
blotches reveal wounds that have yet to even begin healing.
Seungmin goes right to his side. He lets go of Felix and rushes to the bed, crouching beside it
and watching Hyunjin’s face as though he expects him to open his eyes any moment.
Minho heads over to Jeongin. Felix watches the way Minho brushes Jeongin’s hair out of his
forehead and presses a kiss to it. Gentle and soft. He then sits next to the bed and takes
Jeongin’s hand.
Next to Felix, Jisung keeps glancing between both beds.
“I don’t understand,” he says and it takes Felix a moment to realise that Jisung is talking to
him.
“What don’t you understand?” Felix asks. “Innie’s father tried to take him away and he shot-”
“Yeah I get that I just…” Jisung shakes his head. He looks lost for a few seconds, like he’s
struggling to find the right words to describe what he’s feeling. “How….how did Innie’s dad
ever think this could end well?”
Felix looks at Jeongin. Sweet, little Innie and maybe if his father had pulled this kind of crap
earlier...if he’d tried doing it before Jeongin even knew there were bodies under the
restaurant...maybe Jeongin would have gladly gone with him.
The Jeongin they first met, the meek, shy, terrified, wide eyed little Innie who paled at the
mere thought of murder, is not the Jeongin they know now. This Jeongin has killed before, he
buries people alive, he has sex in freezers in the full view of dead men and terrified men. This
Jeongin isn’t a result of trauma in the restaurant, it’s the real Jeongin. The one both his
parents had tried to squish down and destroy.
The real Jeongin is waking up with each passing day and this one wants more control over
his life. This one would have never left with his father.
“He doesn’t know the real Innie,” Felix finally says, more a whisper to himself than anything
but Jisung hears him fine.
“Maybe none of us know the real Innie,” he surmises and the sentiment strikes Felix as
strange but before he can comment on it, Jisung is already going to hover near Minho.
Pulling out his phone, Felix shoots a message to both Chan and Changbin with pictures of
Hyunjin and Jeongin in their hospital beds. He then takes a seat next to Hyunjin and reaches
up to hold his hand.
“Don’t you dare die on me now, you pretty bastard,” he whispers.
Hyunjin doesn’t answer but his breathing remains steady. The numbers on the screens of his
monitors and machines stay calm, steady and normal.
The morning light finds the four of them still in the ward with Felix sleeping half slumped in
his chair, his head perched near Hyunjin’s arm. Minho is curled near Jeongin in very much
the same way and when Jisung looks up, he sees Seungmin still awake. Still staring at
Hyunjin, like a loyal dog waiting for his owner to wake up.
Jisung turns his eyes back to Jeongin and takes his jacket off to lay over Minho’s back.
“Don’t know about you, Innie, but it’s gonna be a long fucking weekend.”
Chief Yang is dangling from the ceiling.
His cuffs on each wrist are hanging from a hook in the ceiling and every now and then, when
he sways, the tips of his toes brush the cold tile floor.
Whimpering from the girl tied to the chair echoes and Changbin had made sure both were
blindfolded. If Chan wasn’t going to kill them, then they didn’t need to see any of this.
Feeling the chill of the freezer would be more than enough.
“Please,” the girl whimpers. “I...I didn’t…”

“Explain the girl,” Changbin asks, his words directed to Chief Yang. “I presume this is the
infamous Yuki?”
The girl whimpers, pretty much answering his question and behind him, Chan is watching the
scene. He’s standing, arms folded as he watches the two of them and Changbin can tell his
mind is going a million miles an hour.
He’s not exactly wrong. It would be stupid to kill Chief Yang when he can still be of use. The
question is how to use him with the least amount of risk.
“She’s…” Chief Yang stammers. He could either be shivering from the cold or from fear...or
perhaps from pain because Seungmin did do a number on him before he called for help.
“She’s my-”
“She’s fifteen,” Changbin points out blandly. “A fifteen year old girl, Chief Yang. Really?
How the fuck does Innie have any of your genes?”
He knows of course. He’d done his research the second he found out about her. He didn’t
predict that she’d one day end up in this freezer though. Of all the people who’ve been
through this freezer and killed here, she’s probably the most innocent. Airheaded and naive,
sure, but innocent nonetheless considering the fact that she’s actually a minor and being
abused.
Chan walks right up to Chief Yang and reaches up to rip off his blindfold. He then grabs the
front of his shirt and yanks him close to look at him.
“I fucking warned you,” he seethes. “All you had to do was be a good boy, stay at your desk
and do what I say. I would have even let you continue molesting your little secret because I
really don’t give a shit what you do, so long as you don’t fuck with me and what do you do?
You fuck with me. How did you see this ending?”
Chief Yang glares at him. “I was trying to save my son.”
“Your son doesn’t want to be saved by you,” Chan fires back. “Let me guess, he was fighting
you in the car until Hyunjin shot out your tyres?”
“You were gonna hurt my son-”
“I’m about to hurt you,” Chan says. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret: I was never going to
hurt Innie. I told you that I’d put him in a pie if you ever stepped out of line but the truth is
that your son is mine now and I don’t hurt what’s mine.”
He sees the moment Chief Yang’s eyes widen and leans in. “You’ve fucked up and I’m going
to make sure you suffer. You don’t deserve your son. Neither you nor your wife deserved
him.”
He steps back and looks over him. Chief Yang can still be useful but in the right way. No
more relying on this man to do as he’s told, he’s clearly incapable of it.
“Strap him down to the table.”
Yuki squeals, crying loudly as Changbin takes Chief Yang from his hook and moves him to
the steel table instead. He straps him to it, making sure to pin down both arms and legs for
minimal movement. Leather straps keep him bound tight to the metal surface and when he’s
finished, Chan reaches for a piece of cloth from one of the shelves.
He looks down at Chief Yang’s terrified face and it’s a terrible realisation but he sees Jeongin
in his eyes. Those eyes, they’re Jeongin’s and they’re staring at him in pure terror.
Chan suppresses a shiver and covers Chief Yang’s face with the cloth.
“Chief Yang, you’ve almost worn out your usefulness,” Chan tells him as Changbin goes to
fill up the bucket. “Almost.”
“Please,” Chief Yang pleads, the cloth sinks into his mouth when he talks and Chan
straightens it again.
“If I were you, I’d take a deep breath,” he warns and when Changbin comes back with the
bucket, Chan wastes no time before dousing Chief Yang with it.
Ice cold water smothers the cloth over his face. His body thrashes as much as it can on the
table, his shoes quake and hit the steel surface and all the while, Yuki is still terrified. She’s
still crying.
Chan counts in his head before ripping the cloth from his face and relishing in the gasping
coughs Chief Yang makes.
“I have one more thing you can do,” Chan tells him. “Which is why I’m not going to kill you.
But since you did go out of your way to kidnap one of my own and injure another, I’m going
to make sure that by the end of the night, you’ll be begging me to kill you.”
“I’m sorry,” Chief Yang gasps. Water splutters from his mouth as he thrashes and tries to free
himself from his binds. “I’m so-”
Chan puts the cloth back on his face and douses him again.
This time when he takes the cloth off, Chief Yang’s gasps are more watery. His hacking
sounds more gurgled but so long as he’s getting air in his lungs, Chan is fairly confident he’s
not going to die.
Chan simply pats his wet cheek and smiles down at him.
“I’m really going to enjoy clipping your wings.”
-
At some point, Seungmin has to go home to shower the blood off himself. Jisung leaves early
in the morning to check on the cats, then to check on Honey.
Chan heads into the hospital sometime after seven in the morning to find Minho passed out
where he was sitting next to Jeongin’s bed. Felix is asleep, half slumped in his seat with his
head on Hyunjin’s bed and Hyunjin is still unconscious.
Jeongin’s bed is empty.
Frowning, he walks up to Minho and gently touches his shoulder, shaking gently to wake him
up.
“Hey.”
Minho lifts his head and Chan can’t help but smile at the sight. His hair is askew, his eyes
half open. He reminds him of a cat, especially the way he stretches out his arms with a yawn.
“Morning,” Minho mumbles.
“Where’s Innie?”
It’s then that Minho glances at the bed and frowns at the dent. He puts his hand on the sheets
but they’re cold.
Chan goes to the other bed to wake Felix as Minho gets to his feet and checks the bathroom.
“Have you seen Innie?” Chan asks when Felix wakes with a confused mumble. “Did he tell
anyone where he was going?”
“Innie?” Felix glances at the empty bed and frowns. “Not that I...remember? I passed out
sometime around four in the morning, just when Seungmin was leaving and Innie was still
unconscious.”
“Innie?” Minho calls. He heads out into the hallway and Chan pulls out his phone.
Ten minutes later Chan has called everyone but no one saw him leaving. Not Seungmin or
Jisung - both of whom claim Jeongin was still in his bed when they left and none of the
nurses on call either. Somehow he’d managed to slip out during shift changes, no one even
expected him awake.
Eventually Chan has to ask to see the security footage and that’s when they watch as Jeongin,
still dressed in the hospital gown, walks right out of the hospital. Chan leans in and watches
as Jeongin’s eyes, dull and staring straight ahead show no sign of life. Just like when he
buried Woojin alive, just like when he killed for the first time, the sweet Jeongin is long gone.
Jeongin’s bare feet burn on the sun scorched pavement. Children on the playground look up,
their parents eyebrows furrowing in concern as they watch this boy wander past in nothing
but a hospital gown.
His head is a nightmare. A screaming cacophony of pure noise and he can barely focus.
When he’d woken up, the first thing he’d seen was Hyunjin on the other bed and all at once it
came flooding back to him. The memory of being in that car, the feeling of being flipped
around in the crash. The elation of being in Hyunjin’s arms again and then when his injuries
caught up to him, that’s when he heard it - the gunshot.
He couldn’t deal. He couldn’t handle seeing Hyunjin in that bed, hooked up to so many
machines. He just couldn’t deal with it so he did the first thing that came to mind and left.
It was remarkably easy too. No one noticed him, no one realised who he was. He’d always
been quiet and capable of sneaking around places but it was really easy to get out of there.
Now he’s here, wandering around central Busan, a little cold because the hospital gown is
one step away from being paper, it’s so thin.
He doesn’t know where he’s going, he only knows where he doesn’t want to be and he does
not want to be in that hospital room.
He can’t. He just can’t.
“Excuse me?”
Jeongin looks up to see a woman approaching him with a concerned look on her face. On
pure instinct he takes one step back and when she recognises his caution, she lifts her hands
in an attempt to show she’s harmless.
“It’s okay, I just...are you okay, sweetie?”
Jeongin shivers, he feels so many eyes staring at him and he does look out of place in this
park. He watches the woman in front of him and the way she’s approaching him reminds him
of the nurses back in the asylum. The way they’d approach him so slowly, hands raised as
though he were an animal in a cage.
He shakes his head and the woman nods.
“Did you just come from the hospital?” she asks. “Would you like to take you back there?”
“No,” Jeongin snaps. He shrinks a little and shakes his head. “No, don’t take me there.”
To her he must look so pitiful. Like a child with the way he shrinks in on himself but he can’t
help it. He’s never felt so vulnerable. He’d escaped the hospital but he didn’t have any ideas
on what to do after that.
“Okay,” the woman says. “Okay, I won’t take you there.”

Jeongin’s vision, blurry at first, clears a little. He focuses on the woman, she has to be in her
mid forties perhaps, curly black hair, curvy and a little on the plump side. She has kind eyes,
she looks like a mother.
Like his mother. His mother had kind eyes too but she…
“I need clothes,” Jeongin finds himself confessing, his voice a lot weaker than he likes.
The woman nods and holds out her hand. “I can get you clothes,” she tells him. “You look
like you could use some food too, you poor dear.”
Jeongin isn’t thinking at all. His head is too busy for that. So he reaches his hand forward and
takes hers. He lets her walk him out of the park and towards her car.
Inside his head is just pure noise.
“If I didn’t have to do this, I would be right there with you looking for him but this has to be
done now,” Chan is saying as he walks into domestic arrivals.
The flight from Busan to Seoul had been quick. It always is and he’s bounced back and forth
between the two cities so often he barely thinks of it as anything different. He walks right
through security and hitches his bag on his shoulder as he heads out of the airport to his
driver waiting for him. “I’ve got Seungmin looking around the docks, Han is waiting at his
apartment in case he goes there and Minho will stay with Hyunjin in case he wakes up. Can
you think of anywhere he might go?”
“Aside from the restaurant or his apartment, no,” Felix sighs. “Maybe his...didn’t he have a
grandmother? Or the lady who was pretending to be his grandmother?”
Chan nods and climbs into the back of his car. “Good idea, check her house. I don’t think
anyone bought it. If not there….maybe the cemetery? Keep me informed, he’s not in the right
state of mind, Lix. Be careful.”
“I will,” Felix promises. “Come back soon, yeah?”
“I’ll be quick,” Chan says, he ends the call and turns to his driver. “You know where to go.”
Taking down the Chief of the Seoul Police Division has to be a careful, almost meticulously
calculated effort. Although Chan knows Chief Yang is nothing more than a piece of shit, he’s
unfortunately a piece of shit who had sacrificed his wife and son for his career. He’d built it
from the ground up, promotions, networking, friends, clawing his way to the top.
Along the way, he’d naturally made a few enemies. Jealous businessmen who want his job,
his life, his paycheck.
One of those men is Kim Kangdae, a fifty five year old father of two who has always been
one step behind Chief Yang. Be that in promotions, in networking, he never quite managed to
catch up with him and from what Chan understands, this has boiled approximately fifteen
years of envious rage that has yet to be unleashed.
Chan should know. He’s been fucking Kangdae’s son quite casually for a couple of years and
when Hongjoong has had enough weed in him, he talks about EVERYTHING, including his
father’s not-so-well-hidden rage against a certain Chief of Police.
The car pulls up to an apartment building in Yongsan and Chan heads out. He approaches the
small call box near the front entrance and calls for apartment 803.
A female voice answers.
“Mr Kim’s residence, who am I speaking to?”
Chan shows his face on the camera and offers a small grin. “Bang Chan, I’m here to see Mr
Kim Kangdae?”
There’s a small noise in the background, a scuffle and then the buzzer opens the front door.
As Chan heads in, he checks his phone again and frowns. He should be focussing on what
he’s about to do but he can’t stop worrying about Jeongin.
It’s not like him to just leave like that. Especially when Hyunjin is right in that room, on the
hospital bed. Or perhaps...that’s exactly why he left? The face he’d seen on the security
camera is anything but promising, it could even be possible that Jeongin is not only not in the
right frame of mind but also dangerous. After all, the last time he’d made that face, he’d
buried a man alive.
The ding of the elevator shakes him out of his thoughts. He heads towards apartment 803 and
when he’s let in, he follows the maid to the living room where Kim Kangdae is there waiting
for him.
He’s a tired man. Resentment and envy had aged him, made him bitter and, according to
Hongjoong, made him an asshole. Still, the man smiles when he sees Chan, he rises to his
feet and bows, a normal sight for anyone who knows how advantageous it is to have an ally
like Chan.
“Chan, my boy,” Kangdae chuckles as he shakes Chan’s hand. “Last time I saw you, you
were just graduating high school.”
“Has it been that long?” Chan smiles, trying not to add that the last time he’d seen Kangdae,
it had been through an ajar door in Hongjoong’s bedroom. He distinctly remembers railing
Hongjoong from behind, his hand over Hongjoong’s mouth to stop him making a sound. “I’m
sorry I haven’t visited.”
“Nonsense, you’ve been far too busy,” Kangdae says as they both sit down on the couch.
“Congratulations on your upcoming wedding by the way, she’s a beautiful girl.”
“Yes she is,” Chan says, smiling through his teeth as he tries not to let himself shiver at the
thought of his betrothed. “I’m here on another matter, however.”
“Yes, I was intrigued when you told me about it on the phone,” Kangdae hums. “Chief Yang
has been a thorn in my side for years, but what could you possibly have to tell me about him
that people don’t already know?”
“As you know, I have my fingers in a lot of pies - so to speak,” Chan tells him. “My sources
have discovered that Chief Yang is not as clean as his reputation proclaims him to be. In fact,
I’d go as far to say that I wouldn’t want him anywhere near his position of power, were it up
to me.”
“Interesting,” Kangdae frowns. “But what can I do about it?”
Chan smiles. “I’ll level with you, Mr Kim. I have a vested interest in making friends with the
Chief of Police for multiple reasons. Chief Yang should suffer for his crimes but in the right
way...if you catch my meaning.”
He sees Kangdae’s tired eyes shade with confusion for a few seconds but when it clicks, it
clicks. Understanding washes over him and his back straightens in response when he realises
what Chan’s getting at.
“I...see.”
“Yes,” Chan nods. “I have people who can help me bury him but I need your help. Because I
cannot think of a better friend in the seat of the Chief of Police, can you?”
Greed. It’s what he wants to see. Greed blinds Kangdae and he’s putty in Chan’s hands. He’d
do as he’s told, he’d be a powerful friend in the right place and much easier to control.
“What can I do for you?”
Chan smiles and leans back on the couch. “You can take all the evidence I give you to the
right people and make sure Chief Yang is strung up for all his crimes. You can work
alongside my father and ensure that the public knows that both of you put a monster like
Chief Yang away for good. You can place yourself right at the centre of the accusations and
when he is finally arrested and put away, I will personally put in a word for your promotion
and ensure you are put right where you belong.”
He’ll be publicly humiliated. He’ll be branded as a pedophile - among all the other
accusations Chan can stick to him, regardless of its truth or not. He’ll be put away forever
and if the inmates realise he’s not only a cop but also a pedophile, he won’t survive his first
night.
It would also help his father gain some much needed good press. If the people were to see
him actively condemning a convicted pedophile, using his power to take down someone in a
position of respect and power, it might actually help in getting votes and public support -
something he desperately needs.
Kangdae leans forward, he holds out his hand and Chan takes it for a firm handshake.
“I look forward to working with you.”
“It’s a little big on you. You’re so small but at least it’ll keep you warm.”
Jeongin looks at himself in the mirror. The long-sleeve striped shirt he’s wearing is about two
sizes too big but it is warm. He has to wear a belt for the jeans he’s borrowed and it’s not
perfect but at least he’s not wandering around in a hospital gown anymore.
The woman who picked him up from the park (Jeongin has since learnt her name is Ina)
watches him with a small fond smile. “My son left his clothes here. Set sail for a new life
overseas, haven’t heard from him in months so I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a shirt or two
going missing.”
Jeongin pulls his sleeves up and fixes his hair. He still looks battered. He picks at the bandage
on his head and glances warily at the red spot where the wound had been. One of them
anyway, that crash had done more damage than he initially thought.
“Are you hungry?” Ina asks. “You poor thing, you look like you haven’t eaten in some time.”
Eating is the last thing Jeongin wants to do but he can feel it. His body is weak already, it’s
shaking and he can’t actually remember the last time he ate.
He looks at her and that’s when his vision suddenly wavers. It’s quick, sudden, she’s there
right in front of him when everything starts to blur. Sound fades, he sees the blur of Ina’s
body moving towards him and that’s when he blacks out.
When he wakes again, it’s dark. The entire house is pitch black and when he pushes himself
up, his entire body feels weak. Shaky. He looks around but it’s too dark, his vision is blurry
as it is and the darkness doesn’t help.
“Ina?” he calls, his voice shaky and hoarse.
No answer. There’s something cold in the air. Something familiar, terrifying, like a dread
creeping up his spine. It’s like there’s something in the room with him, something horrible,
menacing. He pushes himself towards the walls, his hands feeling blindly until at last his
fingers close over a doorknob. Ripping it open, he flees through the house and out onto the
streets.
His breath is caught in his throat, his legs are racing, adrenaline pumps so hard he can hear
his heartbeat in his ears. It’s cold outside, the moon is high in the sky and he doesn’t
recognise his surroundings. The woman had taken him to a residential area and he doesn’t
know where he is or where to go.
Catching himself on a pole, Jeongin’s breath hitches as he looks around. He doesn’t recognise
anything and it’s only now that he realises he doesn’t have his phone on him, he can’t even
call for help. His legs shake and he grips the pole, a sob escaping his lips when his vision
wavers again.
There’s something familiar about this. The way he’s losing himself, losing control. When he
did this as a child, he could go hours, days without remembering what he did. He’d wake up
with no recollection, only fragments and pieces. He hasn’t had this in so long, it’s shocking to
feel it again.
“Hyunjin,” he sobs, clinging to the pole as he closes his eyes.
He can only see Hyunjin there. Hyunjin on the hospital bed, connected to too many tubes.
Hyunjin is the strongest person he knows and to see him there…
He blacks out again.
Honey dances around Jisung’s legs when he gets up to fill her bowl. When he’d come around
in the morning, the intention had been to simply fill her bowls, maybe give her some love and
then leave again but that was when Chan called him to tell him that Jeongin had escaped the
hospital.
As the others were out looking for him, the most logical thing had been to stay at the
apartment in case Jeongin came back home.
So Jisung had spent the day cleaning the apartment, mopping the floors, dusting all surfaces,
playing around with Honey in the living room but then night fell and Jeongin still wasn’t
home.
No word from any of the others either, no one had found him yet.
Leaning down, Jisung fills Honey’s bowl with food and water again. He pets her head and
looks up when he hears the front door opening.
“Innie?” he calls, heading back out into the hallway. “Innie, where’ve you been? Are you
o…”
He stops in the middle of the hallway when he sees not Jeongin but Minho walking in
through the front door.
“Ah, thought you were Innie,” he says, deflating a little as he watches Minho taking his shoes
off. “Any word from the others?”
Minho shakes his head. He takes his shoes off and wanders down the hallway. There’s an
unreadable look on his face as he walks right into Jisung’s arms and holds him tight, burying
his face in Jisung’s shoulder for what feels like a much needed embrace.
“Hey,” Jisung whispers, his hand gently stroking Minho’s back as he holds him. “You okay? I
know you’re worried but we’ll find him.”
“I’m worried,” Minho confesses, his face still mashed in Jisung’s shoulder. “But not just for
him.”
Jisung still remembers how long Minho had locked himself in the bathroom. How long he’d
cried and he still had no idea why. Minho wasn’t saying anything. He tucks his face in
Minho’s shoulder and tightens his hold on him.
Before long, Honey comes out from the kitchen and starts circling their legs. Minho breaks
away from the hold to lean down and pet Honey’s head, scratching behind her ears. With his
other hand, he takes Jisung’s and leads him to the living room.
Jisung can tell he has something to say. It’s all in the look on Minho’s face. They sit on the
couch and Jisung watches him carefully. He’s almost afraid that if he says the wrong thing, if
he says anything, Minho won’t tell him what’s been bothering him for the last few days.
Honey sits at their feet, her tail wagging and eyes watching. It says a lot that she doesn’t try
to jump up on the couch, almost as though she knows just as Jisung does, how precarious this
situation is and how thin Minho’s resolve is.
“I need to tell you something,” Minho says, his hands holding Jisung’s tightly. “And it’s not
going to be easy for you to hear but you need to know about it. You need to know and if you
don’t love me after-”
“Baby I can pretty much promise that no matter what you’re about to tell me, I’m always
going to love you,” Jisung promises, his hands squeezing Minho’s.
He only sees a sliver of a smile on Minho’s face. A tinge of relief. Minho brings their hands
up and kisses them before bringing them back down again with a small sniffle.
“This still won’t be easy for you to hear.”
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Minho looks like he’s struggling to breathe. He has to take a few deep breaths before he even
begins.
“Before I met you, I met Chan,” he confesses, slowly, carefully. “He came to me on your
behalf.”
Jisung nods, he remembers Chan volunteering to talk to Minho because at the time he’d been
too chickenshit to do it himself.
“Chan and I,” Minho pauses for a second, struggling to think of the right words. “We…”
Jisung tilts his head. He recognises the look on Minho’s face and all at once, a strange feeling
of combined relief and equal parts dread fills him. It’s not like he didn’t know. He knew. He’s
known for years that something must have happened. He’s been watching Minho for so long,
studying that beautiful face for so many years, he notices the slightest changes. He notices
everything about Minho, especially the way he looks at Chan.
He knew something happened.
“It was only once,” Minho tells him. “It was before I met you. I know you probably don’t
want details but it just…it happened. It’s never happened again. All this time I kept thinking
you probably never needed to know and maybe you don’t but I…”
He looks like he’s about to burst into tears. Jisung still can’t stand the sight of Minho crying.
He takes their hands and presses it to his lips, kissing each of Minho’s fingers like they’re
precious because they are. To him they are. He then puts their hands down and leans in to
kiss Minho’s lips and Minho, confused but raw, kisses him back.
“Han?”
“I know,” Jisung tells him. “I’ve always known. Baby, I’m obsessed with you and everything
to do with you, how could I not notice that?”
Minho isn’t breathing. His tearful eyes are wide, his hands are shaking and holding so tightly
to Jisung’s. He’s terrified and Jisung can see it.
“I’m in love with you,” Jisung tells him, his forehead resting against Minho’s as their hands
entwine between them. “And I think I’m never going to love anyone else nearly as much as I
love you. I was just waiting for you to tell me.”
Minho sobs, his hands are shaking so hard in Jisung’s grip.
Jisung watches him carefully. “Is this why you’ve been crying for the last few days?” he asks,
dread creeping up his spine as he tries to pry into the reason why his boyfriend has been so
upset lately. “Are you…? Do you love…?”
“Stop,” Minho sniffs, he shakes his head. “That’s not why I’ve been...it wasn’t about that.”
“But you love him?” Jisung asks. “Do you love him?”
The fact that Minho doesn’t say no right away spreads a terrible feeling through Jisung’s
body. Right to his heart, his vision wavers a little and all he can see is Minho looking so
terribly, terribly conflicted in front of him.
It’s horrible because for Jisung, there has only ever been one. There will likely only ever be
one. The answer is automatic for him but it’s not for Minho.
“Baby, why have you been so upset for the last few days? Is it because you want him? Is it
because he’s getting married?”
“No,” Minho sniffs, he takes one hand out to rub at his face. “No, it wasn’t about that.”
“Then what?”
“I can’t…” Minho shivers, he keeps shaking his head and he won’t meet Jisung’s eyes now.
“I can’t, I can’t tell you why. Please stop asking me.”
“But I need to know,” Jisung presses, a little frustrated and perhaps a little desperate too. It’s
rare he doesn’t know something about Minho, he’s always crawled right into Minho’s secrets.
Into the darkest parts of his life, he knows things about Minho that no one else knows so to
not know something...to not know something this big....it’s devastating.
Minho pulls both hands back now. He rubs at his face and without him to hold onto, Jisung
feels adrift. A little lost. Cast out of Minho’s mind and the feeling is so cold.
“Minho,” he says, voice cracking a little. “I promise I won’t ask about it again. If you don’t
want to tell me why you’ve been so upset, you don’t have to but I need you to answer my
next question. Honestly.”
Minho shivers. He can’t stop crying and the sight is painful to Jisung but he waits until the
other has rubbed his face and finally looking at him with bloodshot, tearful eyes.
Jisung leans in. “Do you love Chan?”
Minho gives himself away before he even answers. The shudder that runs through his body,
the way his eyes dilate. Knowing about their past is one thing but seeing it before his eyes,
Jisung thought he could handle it but he can’t.
“Yes.”
Jisung’s legs move before he’s even aware of it. He gets up off the couch and is halfway
across the room when Minho reaches out for him.
“Han, wait!”
“I need time,” Jisung finds himself saying, one hand out to stop Minho running to him. He
looks at the other, pitiful and small on the couch and he still can’t handle the sight of him
crying. It hurts. But everything hurts and he doesn’t know how to deal with anything right
now.
He can’t think with Minho in the same room as him.
“Just...give me time.”
Something clicks in Minho’s eyes. A silent understanding. Reluctant perhaps but he

understands. He doesn’t follow, not even when Jisung turns around and heads out into the
hallway.
At Minho’s feet, Honey snuggles into his leg, as if she can offer some small comfort whilst
Jisung puts his shoes on and leaves out the front door. When he’s gone, Honey jumps up onto
the couch and crawls onto Minho’s lap. She’s the only one who witnesses the way Minho
completely breaks down.
He’s in a carpark.
It’s the first thing Jeongin recognises when he comes to. He wasn’t even unconscious, it’s like
waking up in the middle of doing something and he can’t remember what it was he was
doing.
He feels sick. Nausea creeping through every part of his body as he struggles to stay awake,
to remember what it was he’s been doing. How long has he been out? What time is it, what
day is it? He looks up to see the night sky and the stars but how long has he been out? Is it
still the same night as before or have a few days passed since then?
It’s terrifying. He can’t remember anything, he has no way of telling how long it’s been but
he does recognise the building in front of him at least.
Even in dissociation, even when he’s not in control, his body had taken him back to God’s
Menu.
Catching his breath, Jeongin picks himself up and stumbles towards the back door. It’s better
than before at least, before he hadn’t recognised anything, at least he knows where he is this
time. The shirt he’s wearing feels a little damp, his legs are aching - what has he been doing?
To his surprise, the back door is unlocked. It opens when he pushes and he walks into the
kitchen. He looks around, he can’t see anyone here but someone has to be here if the door
was unlocked. When he looks to his right, he notices the freezer. The door is wide open and
he can hear the smallest whimpers coming from inside.
It feels like there’s always whimpering coming from the freezer. Always someone trapped
inside, alive, waiting for someone like Chan or Changbin or Hyunjin to finish them off.
Jeongin’s breath rushes out of his lungs at the thought. He feels like someone punched his
stomach when he thinks of Hyunjin. His vision wavers and he grips the kitchen bench, his
fingers digging hard as he tries to stay here, stay present.
Don’t black out again, don’t…
Steadying his breathing, Jeongin squeezes his eyes shut. He’s shaking, his hands are slippery
on the steel bench but he focuses on his breathing until he feels a little more normal. A little
more in control.
A sniffle comes from the freezer and when Jeongin opens his eyes, he can tell that whoever is
in there is not in the lower part of the freezer. Down in the cellar area, that place is freezing.
But the upper area - whilst still cold enough to be part of a freezer, is a little warmer. If he
were to put someone in the freezer with the intention of them surviving longer than one night,
he’d put them there.
His feet carry him forward. Shaky and unsteady but determined. When he feels the cool air of
the freezer, his body shivers but he doesn’t stop. Maybe it was because Hyunjin changed his
memories of the freezer or maybe he’s so far gone that trauma is just one thing to add on top
of whatever’s happening to him now but he pushes forward.
He walks in and there, tied to a chair in the corner of the freezer, in plain sight of anyone who
could walk in, is a girl. A wide eyed, crying, terrified girl and it takes Jeongin a moment to
recognise her as the girl who was sitting in the front of the car when his father tried to kidnap
him.
She looks at him, her eyes wide and she’s about to plead for her life before she realises who
he is.
She screams and Jeongin blacks out again.
Changbin meets Chan at the docks one hour after Chan’s flight lands from Seoul to Busan.
It’s the safest place to meet because no one guards the docks, no one even visits at night. He
leans against his car and listens to the sound of the waves crashing against the docks.
The sound of the sea has always been calming to him. The lull and crash of the water, the salt
in the air. He could close his eyes and be taken back to simpler times. To the days where he’d
chill on the beach with Chan and Jisung, where they’d sometimes get stoned and dig their
feet in the sand.
Once, he and Chan buried Jisung in the sand until only his head was visible. Then they’d left
him there and Jisung eventually had to ask a kind old lady to help him out of the sand so he
could go and murder his two best friends - those days were easier.
These days, Changbin couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. Of something heavy in the air.
A sense of doom he couldn’t shake off no matter what he did. Something was coming and he
didn’t like the feel of it.
His phone buzzes in his pocket and he feels his heart skip a beat when he sees Felix’s name.
He can’t help the smile on his face when he answers and looks up at the sky.
“Hey.”
“I’m nearly at the restaurant,” Felix says, Changbin can hear the noise of the train station in
the background. “Sorry, I got caught up with something. Has anyone contacted you about
Innie? Has anyone found him?”
“Not yet,” Changbin replies, his other hand digging in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes.
He’s not a regular smoker, he only smokes when he’s feeling a little stressed and this is one
of those times. Having one of their own missing - one who isn’t exactly in his right state of
mind - is a little stressful. “How was Hyunjin when you left? Is he awake?”
“Not yet,” Felix says. “Doctors said he might be out for at least the rest of the night. The
dosage they’ve got him on is pretty strong. That fucker missed vital organs but he still shot
him.”
“Yeah,” Changbin mutters, his free hand sticking a cigarette between his lips before he
fumbles around for a lighter. “I left the back door unlocked for you. The girl is tied up on the
first floor of the freezer so she should be alright when you get there.”
“Not frozen like a popsicle, thank you,” Felix laughs. “Seriously though, what the hell are we
gonna do with her?”
“I don’t know,” Changbin sighs. “It’s not like we can just let her go, she’s seen our faces.
Chan was waterboarding Chief Yang right in front of her but he hasn’t told us to kill her yet
either.”
He would if he were told to. Although the girl is clearly innocent and abused, she’s too much
of a risk. A liability. She’s seen their faces, she can’t be trusted to simply not tell anyone if
they let her go and they can’t exactly keep her. What can they do? Tell her she’s been abused?
She clearly doesn’t think she has been and it might take some years for her to realise the truth
of it all.
All in all, she is an unlucky bystander. An innocent caught in the crossfire and now they don’t
know what to do about her.
“Keep her alive,” he says as he precariously lights the end of his cigarette. He flicks the
lighter shut, sticking it back in his pocket as his free hand plucks the cigarette out from
between his lips so he can exhale. “That was the only thing Chan told us to do.”
“Got it,” Felix huffs. He sounds like he’s walking.
Changbin feels his heart warm. He can almost imagine Felix walking - it doesn’t take much
imagination because god knows he’s been watching Felix for years. When he walks, when he
sleeps, when he yawns, when he’s laughing and when he’s bouncing around so much his
fluffy blonde hair bounces every which way. The thought of the other warms him, makes him
feel a little less worried about the doom he can feel approaching them. Felix makes
everything okay.
Looking up, he spots a car coming towards him and he takes another drag. “Gotta go, Lix.
He’s almost here. Stay safe, okay?”
“Got it, I’m at the restaurant now so I’ll call you if I hear anything about Innie,” Felix replies.
“Later. Love you.”
He hangs up and Changbin’s eyes widen. Felix had said it so casually, so quickly that he
didn’t have time to really process it or say it back. Is it too soon if he says it back? Did Felix
say it out of habit? Is that how he ends calls normally, has he told anyone else he loves them
right before he hangs up?
Changbin feels like he stuck his finger in a power socket. He puts his phone back in his
pocket as the car pulls up near him and Chan climbs out. He looks a little tired, a little worn
from the flight and Changbin smiles as he leans over to tap the trunk.
“Got your package here,” he tells him. “Did the meeting go alright?”
“Yeah,” Chan grins as he takes the cigarette from Changbin and takes a drag. “For once, this
should go exactly according to plan.”
“Chief Yang goes down in a fiery blaze of glory and your father rises a saint from the ashes,
how poetic,” Changbin snorts.
He pushes himself off the car and goes to open the trunk. Both of them look down to see
Chief Yang, bound and blindfolded, lying in the trunk of the car unconscious.
Chan frowns. “Did you hit him or something? Why is he unconscious?”
“He kept screaming,” Changbin flicks the cigarette out to the sea and leans in to grab his
ankles. “And thrashing around, it had to be done.”
Shrugging, Chan leans down to help lift the man. Together, they carry him into the trunk of
Chan’s car. They’re not gentle as they shove him in the trunk and close it tight.
Chan sighs. “Now I take him to one of my guys, make sure he stays down until the right time
when he’s arrested and yeah you get the deal.”
“What are we gonna do about that girl?” Changbin asks. “I know she’s evidence that he
abused her but she’s also loyal to him by the looks of it. If we tell her to tell the world he was
abusing her, she’s probably not gonna do it.”
“We can get her to sing the right tune,” Chan assures him. “Heard anything about Innie?”
Changbin shakes his head. “Last I checked, everyone is out looking for him - except for
Felix, I sent him to the restaurant to look after the girl. Maybe Innie will go there, Han says
he hasn’t come home.”
A grim look passes over Chan’s face at the thought of their youngest out there somewhere.
Lost, alone. He’s not okay, the look on his face in that security camera confirmed it, he’s not
in his right state of mind at all. To be out there alone in that state...it’s dangerous. Not just for
him but for anyone else around him.
He’s just about to say something when Changbin’s phone suddenly buzzes. Changbin pulls it
out, his face lightening when he sees Felix’s name again.
“Hey,” he says as he answers it. “Everything o…”
Chan watches him. He can vaguely hear Felix’s voice on the other end and he sees the
moment Changbin’s eyes widen.
“Oh shit.”
“What is it?” Chan asks. “What’s wrong?”
“Yeah, be there soon,” Changbin says to Felix.
He ends the call and turns to Chan. “We gotta go. Innie’s at the restaurant.”
When Jeongin comes to, his stomach lurches painfully. He feels so weak, so shaky and he
can’t focus on anything, everything is a blur.
There’s something hard underneath him. It’s cold and when he tries to push himself up into a
sitting position, he recognises the patterns underneath his fingertips as tiles. Is he on the
floor? Is he still in the restaurant?
There’s something warm on his shoulder and when he looks up, all he sees is a blur of
colours. Someone is kneeling in front of him and that someone is holding his shoulders.
Jeongin blinks a few times and that’s when sound comes back to him. Slowly at first, then
stronger.
“Innie. Innie breathe, it’s me.”
Felix.
Jeongin reaches his hands out blindly. He feels a warm grasp in his fingers and he could cry.
He feels like he’s been alone too long, to finally have someone he knows near him. He
doesn’t recognise the sound of his own crying, his own breathing as he leans forward until he
feels Felix’s arms around him. He presses his head into Felix’s chest and cries.
“It’s okay, I’m here, Innie, breathe,” Felix is saying, his hands rubbing circles into Jeongin’s
back. “I’ve got you.”
Don’t black out again. Don’t lose control.
Jeongin shakes hard in Felix’s hold and he can’t remember anything. He doesn’t know how
long he’s been out. He doesn’t trust that he won’t black out again and he’s so terrified
because he doesn’t know but he feels like he’s done something awful. Something terrible.
“Fe,” he cries. “I can’t...I don’t remember...what have I been…”

“Shh,” Felix hushes, his arms tightening around Jeongin as he sits down properly in front of
him so Jeongin can lean in closer.
Of everyone Jeongin has ever hugged, Felix has always been the one who gives the warmest,
the strongest hugs. Jeongin leans in, practically climbing onto Felix’s lap so he can wrap both
his arms and legs around him. He needs an anchor, a physical anchor to keep him grounded
and Felix is the best he has at the moment.
“I don’t wanna black out again,” Jeongin gasps into his neck. His fingers almost dig into
Felix’s back as he shivers. “Don’t let me black out again.”
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Felix whispers. “Just breathe with me okay? Breathe in and out,
follow my breathing.”
It’s hard at first. Jeongin struggles to focus but Felix is keeping his breathing so steady. A
slow inhale in and an equally slow exhale out. Jeongin closes his eyes and follows, shaky at
first but it grows steadier and steadier with each breath.
Finally, finally his mind starts to clear.
He opens his eyes and the room starts to clear. The world around him sharpens, focuses until
everything is clear. When he looks down at Felix’s back, he sees his hands and they’re
covered in blood.
Pulling away from Felix, Jeongin looks down at his shirt, at his arms and they’re covered too.
He’s drenched in it.
Felix puts his hands up slowly. “Innie,” he says, voice low and careful. “Innie breathe.”
“Whose blood is this?” Jeongin whimpers.
“You don’t remember?”
“No I don’t!” Jeongin gasps, he tries to wipe his hands on his shirt but it’s just as wet. He
whimpers and Felix places his hands on his shoulders.
“Doesn’t matter, look at me,” he says. “Innie, look at me.”
“Whose blood?!” Jeongin cries, he scrambles off Felix’s lap and wriggles backwards until his
back hits a wall. “Whose blood, who did I kill?!”
“Innie, look at me!” Felix says, he crawls in front of Jeongin and takes his face in his hands.
“Look at me. Just me, okay?”
Jeongin’s vision swims. It blurs until he focuses on Felix. He takes a shaky breath and Felix
leans in closer.
“Just me, just breathe. Like before, just breathe,” Felix is saying. “Nothing else matters right
now, okay? Nothing.”
It takes a moment, Jeongin is still shaky but when Felix sits down, he pulls Jeongin back into
him like before. Jeongin presses his chest into Felix’s, he hides his face in Felix’s shoulder
and wraps his arms and legs around him just like before.
Jeongin feels his breathing even out, his body sags in Felix’s hold and he’s suddenly
exhausted. Still scared but tired to the bone.
The back door opens and he jolts but Felix’s arms are tighter around him. Stopping him from
jumping off his lap.
“Just Chan and Binnie, it’s okay,” Felix whispers to him.
Chan swims into view, he crouches down next to the two of them and looks over the state of
Jeongin. From the look in his eyes to the blood on his arms. Felix’s hand is in Jeongin’s hair,
stroking it gently and Jeongin’s eyelids feel so heavy.
Changbin crouches down next to Chan.
“Oh Innie…”
“I’ve got you,” Felix whispers just before Jeongin passes out.
Getting up to his feet, Chan looks around the kitchen as Changbin goes to check on the girl in
the freezer. He looks down at Felix. “How did you find him?”
“Out of his mind,” Felix replies, his hand still stroking Jeongin’s hair, other hand secure on
his back. “I just came in through the back door and I found him coming out of the freezer,
this really weird look in his eyes. Chan, it wasn’t him. He wasn’t there.”
“Chan!” Changbin calls from the freezer. “Get in here!”
Felix stays on the floor as Chan goes around him and into the freezer. The blood is already on
the floor, dread hitting him all at once as he sets his eyes on the girl tied to the chair.
At least...what’s left of the girl.
He can’t tell what Jeongin had done to her. It looks like he tore her to pieces. She sits
hunched over, blood matting her hair. There’s a large scar scraped right across her face, like a
large claw ripped her open. There’s more open wounds at her neck, her wrists, elbows, all
along her torso and down her legs.
Changbin shoots Chan a grim look.
“Innie did this?”

Chan’s mind is going a million miles an hour. He turns back to look at Jeongin passed out in
Felix’s arms and shakes his head.
“Innie’s been gone all day,” he surmises. “By the looks of it, he’s been blacking out all day,
right Felix?”
“Yeah,” Felix replies. “He said he can’t remember anything.”
“Chances are there are other bodies,” Chan says. “Anyone he passed, really.”
“Why?” Changbin frowns. “Innie’s never done this before-”
“He has, he was just a kid at the time but he has done this before,” Chan cuts in “Anyone
who makes noise, anyone who gets too close to him, when he was a kid it was the
neighbourhood animals and I’m willing to bet that the car accident knocking him around and
seeing Hyunjin in the hospital bed triggered some very bad memories for him. We have to
keep him safe, preferably isolated until he’s himself again. If he blacks out like he did before,
he won’t realise what he’s doing and none of us will be safe.”
“What...you mean he’ll hurt us?” Changbin pales.
“He might, if his mind perceives you as a threat,” Chan nods. “God knows what he sees when
he’s in that state. I don’t think even he knows but he’ll be safest at my mansion. We can keep
him in a room until he’s safe again. Felix, pass him here.”
Chan steps out of the freezer again. He leans down and takes Jeongin from Felix’s arms.
Jeongin is dead weight, heavy but somehow Chan manages to hitch him up in his arms until
he’s carrying him securely enough. He nods to the back door.
“Fe, open the back seat of the car, I’ll put him there.”
“What do we do about her?” Changbin asks, pointing to the mangled body on the chair.
“We’re fucked now, we can’t get a testimony of child abuse!”
“I’ll think of something,” Chan promises. “Close her in for now and help me with Innie. Best
case scenario, we can convince the court that Chief Yang murdered her.”
Jeongin wakes up to warmth. To the golden glow of the sun filtering through white curtains.
He’s comfortable, blankets and pillows all around him as his eyes recognise the four poster
bed he’s only ever seen in Chan’s mansion. Unlike before when he came to and felt sick, now
all he feels is warmth. He feels rested.
Slowly, he pushes himself into a sitting position and when he looks down, he notices the arm
around his waist. Looking to his left, he sees Felix curled up next to him. The boy is sleeping
on top of the blankets, his arm tight around Jeongin’s middle.
“You alright?”
Jeongin looks up to see Chan sitting at the end of the bed. Behind him, Changbin is passed
out on the chair in what can only be described as a very uncomfortable position. He looks
like he’s been there all night, they all do.
Chan gets up and walks around the bed. He sits on the side and leans in to study Jeongin’s
face. “You look better.”
Jeongin looks down. The blood is gone, he’s been cleaned and changed into silk black
pyjamas. They’re a little too big on him, especially around the chest and he can only guess
he’s wearing Chan’s clothes.
“The blood…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Chan tells him. He reaches his hand out and takes Jeongin’s, holding it
tight as he makes the other look at him. “You don’t remember what happened, do you?”
Jeongin shakes his head but he can already feel mild panic rising. “I killed someone,” he
whispers. “Who did I kill?”
“No one we knew,” Chan assures him and perhaps a normal person would still feel panicked
about the idea of killing anyone at all but Jeongin does feel a little better knowing he hadn’t
hurt anyone he knew.
Chan scoots a little closer and lifts his hand to brush Jeongin’s hair out of his face. There’s a
sad smile on his face, gentle as he looks over Jeongin.
Jeongin takes a deep, shaking breath. “I want to see Hyunjin.”
“I’ll take you to him,” Chan promises. “Seungmin says he woke up this morning. First thing
he asked for was you.”
Something warm floods Jeongin’s chest. His heart beats just that little bit harder and he finds
himself chuckling, just softly. What he feels is enough to knock the air clean out of his lungs.
“I know you don’t remember anything and it’s okay. You don’t need to remember it,” Chan
tells him. “Next time you feel yourself losing control, just remember us, okay? Remember
we’ll be here to keep you safe if you need us.”
Felix must have slept next to him all night. Changbin looks like he’d kept vigil on that seat
and just fell asleep, hunched over like that. He’s going to wake up in pain. Even Chan looks a
little tired, like he never left this room.
Jeongin feels warm because he hadn’t been left alone. Because they’d all been around him
and they hadn’t left him, not even when there was a risk that he could hurt them if he lost
himself again.
When he killed those animals, his mother used to lock him in his room. She’d bury the
animals by herself and lock her son away. He used to spend hours and hours in his room,
losing his mind, crying into the floorboards, flicking in and out of consciousness until he
finally gained control over himself again.
But Chan hadn’t let that happen. The thought alone is enough to warm Jeongin from the
inside out, he’s never felt so looked after.
Chan smiles. “Come on,” he says. “I’ll get you a towel for a shower and then we’ll take you
back to the hospital to see Hyunjin.”
Chan wakes the others whilst Jeongin is in the shower. The three of them stay nearby, just
close enough that Jeongin knows he isn’t left alone but far enough that he doesn’t feel
suffocated or distrusted. He spots Changbin kissing Felix when he steps out into the hallway
and can’t help but smile, at least some good is happening around him.
When he’s ready, they head out to the hospital and all the way Jeongin feels his nerves rising.
It would have been worse had it not been for Felix sitting in the backseat with him and
playing him stupid videos on his phone. Mainly Youtube clips of a tiny talking spider.
Jeongin follows them into the hospital, down the cold halls and he feels his anxiety rising.
The scent of hospitals always causes anxiety. He remembers his mother, he remembers
waking up and seeing Hyunjin unconscious. He hates it here.
But then Chan is opening the door to the ward and the first thing he sees is Hyunjin. Alive
and awake and sitting up in bed with Seungmin sitting next to him. Hyunjin looks up, his
blonde hair is a mess, he looks tired but he’s still so beautiful. He holds out his arm and
Jeongin rushes to him. He crashes into him and when Hyunjin lets out a small pained cry,
Jeongin quickly pulls back,
“Sorry, I’m sorry-”
Hyunjin shakes his head and grabs the back of Jeongin’s neck to drag him in again. “Don’t
care, come here.”
Jeongin is mindful of the wound on his chest, his arms carefully locking around Hyunjin’s
middle as he snuggles his face into his neck. Hyunjin’s grip on him is tight, his lips on his
forehead press a million tiny kisses and Jeongin can hear his heartbeat.
He’s alive. He’s here and he’s alive.
His breath is shaky, his hands even more so as he melts into him. At some point the others
leave the room, Jeongin barely notices.
“Where’d you go?” Hyunjin asks, his lips still pressing little kisses along Jeongin’s forehead.
“I woke up and you were gone.”
Jeongin lifts his head, he thinks for a moment before shaking his head. “I just...went a little
crazy,” he confesses quietly.
The others had been worried. They’d been careful and so gentle with him but all that appears
on Hyunjin’s face is a smile.
“Sounds like fun,” he says. “Take me with you next time.”
Then he pulls him into a kiss and Jeongin melts into him. It’s then that he realises the vital
differences between the people in his life. His parents had seen his insanity and locked him
away. Chan had seen his insanity and took care of him, made sure he was safe. Hyunjin saw
his insanity and wanted to join him.
He climbs onto the bed and curls into Hyunjin’s arms. Safe and secure and exactly where he’s
supposed to be.
Chapter End Notes
Hoo boy, hi guys.
So this one took me forever to write because Innie gets into a headspace I found rather
hard to write. As you can see our little Fennec Fox is losing it.
Our boys are about to hit us right between the eyes with albums and music videos! You
ready?
As always, thank you all for your love and support. You have no idea how much I cling
to every word you guys say when chapters like this start fighting back so really, thank
you :)
See you next time!

XXI: Filius Canis
Chapter Notes
This one's a heavy one guys. Brace yourselves.

It's also pretty all over the place in terms of timeline so, yeah.

SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
The doors of the visiting area open with a loud buzz. The clang of heavy metal doors echoes
on the walls as they open to let Chan through. Chief Yang sits at the visitors table, hands
cuffed, eyes narrowed into slits as he watches Chan seat himself on the other side.
If looks could kill, he’d have shattered the fucking glass.
“Chief Yang,” Chan says, his eyes diverting for a second before he corrects himself. “No.
Yang Jeongil. How are you?”
His name sounds foreign without the title. He’d had it so long that he didn’t know how to live
without it. Still, he straightens himself in his seat and tries not to mind the extra shackles on
his ankles. An unnecessary torture, in his opinion and probably one Chan himself ordered.
There’s a terrible chafing feeling at the bone of his ankle every time it scrapes against the
metal chains.
“So you’ve won,” he says, voice dull as he watches Chan steadily. “How long does my son
have to live?”
“What strikes me as odd is the fact that you keep thinking I’m going to kill your son,” Chan
chuckles. “You know, I had really hoped this relationship would work out between us. I had
hoped that you would have your son’s life in mind every time you do something for me but it
was just too much for you, wasn’t it? How did you ever think you were going to get him out
of the country when he didn’t want to go?”
“You poisoned him.”
“I assure you, I have no interest in hurting your son. I’d go as far as to say that I care more
about him than you ever did and that is tragic,” Chan sighs. “But all that aside, I am surprised
at you. I have to hand it to you, you hid your secrets very, very well. You had just enough
contacts willing to overlook every dirty little thing you did, well done.”
Chief Yang bristles. He doesn’t feel like he’s being congratulated, but then there’s nothing in
losing like this. He has no options left, nothing left, he’s completely at Chan’s mercy and it’s
such a foreign feeling. He hasn’t been at the mercy of anyone in a very, very long time.
Chan reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small, red notebook with a pen
slipped into the binder. He slaps it on the table and slides it through the little slot beneath the
glass separating them.
Chief Yang frowns. “What’s this?”
“I found your warehouse,” Chan tells him and all humour is gone from is face and his voice.
Replacing it instead is a cold, emotionless stare, shielding his emotions from view. Whatever
he feels about this situation, about Yuki, about the warehouse, Chief Yang can’t read him.
“When was your first blackout?” Chan asks.
Chief Yang stares at him for a long time. But he has nothing to lose so he shakes his head.
“Can’t remember.”
“But you’ve had them all your life,” Chan states and Chief Yang has no choice but to nod.
A moment passes, Chan taps the table and points to the notebook. “I want every recount.
Everything you remember from every blackout you’ve had. I’m guessing at some point you
became aware of them and learnt how not to lose your memories, correct?”
Chief Yang nods, he sees no reason not to.
“Write them down. All of them. Every face you remember, every episode, write about Yuki,
write about her parents, write all of it,” Chan demands.
“Or what?” Chief Yang huffs. “You’ll kill my son?”
“I know you well enough now to know that the life of your son doesn’t mean shit to you,”
Chan replies. “But you are going away. We have too much evidence and your cheap, court-
ordered lawyer is not going to win against my league of overpaid pricks who call themselves
lawyers. You won’t win. You’re going away. What you write is going to determine whether
or not your new inmates will know you’re not only the Chief of police but also a pedophile.”
That pricks an ice cold spark of fear through Chief Yang. Thus far he’s been lucky, he’s been
in isolation but when he’s tried and charged with murder, he’ll be out with others. All those
inmates, hardened criminals, they won’t suffer the chief of police to be amongst them, even
less a pedophile.
“Oh yes,” Chan leans in. “You won’t last ten seconds. So if you don’t want them to know,
write. Everything. I want everything.”
“How do I know you won’t use it against me?” Chief Yang asks, his voice small for the first
time in his life. “It’s evidence, isn’t it?”
Chan scoffs. “I already have enough evidence to have you locked away for the rest of your
life. I want this for Innie.”
Several things hit Chief Yang at the exact same time. The fact that he knows his son has had
blackouts, the fact that they were all in that car crash...Yuki, Yuki, Yuki.
“Is she dead?” he asks, voice small, even a little shaky. It’s a rare show of emotion but he
can’t help himself, the thought of that girl dying, the thought of those bright eyes closing
forever. No one would understand but he can’t handle it. He can’t handle that thought.
Chan taps the table again. “Write,” he says. “Everything. You do this for me, I’ll hide your
past and I’ll tell you where she is.”
Then he gets up, he turns around and he heads out the door. He doesn’t turn around, not even
when Chief Yang calls. The heavy metal doors slam, the sound reverberating on the walls and
left alone, Chief Yang looks at the notebook in front of him and takes a deep breath.
1st Kills.
I remember the first ones. I’d always blacked out but it wasn’t until I was well into my thirties
that I really looked at myself and instead of pushing it away and ignoring it - I embraced it.
It was like my eyes opened and I remembered...everything…
It was pure chance that I found them. A young family with their infant daughter and I...like a
wolf in the middle of the forest, the scent of blood, came after them.
And when I came to, I found the bodies. I remembered them and the girl...this girl was mine. I
named her Yuki.
1 Week Earlier
Slipping the key into the lock, Chan pushes the door open and winces when the smell hits
him all at once. Behind him, he hears Changbin gag as he brings his sleeve up to cover his
nose.
“The fuck is that smell?” Changbin coughs, reluctant as the two of them enter the apartment.
Chief Yang owns a relatively modest apartment in central Seoul. Two bedrooms, one office,
one living room, kitchen and bathroom - it’s definitely larger than the average person could
possibly afford in the central city. There’s a scent that seems to seep straight out of the very
walls, a strange combination of rotting food and what can only be described as shit.
Stepping inside, Chan looks around cautiously.
It’s been two months since the death of Yuki and respinning the story of how Chief Yang
killed her had been a focussed effort on Chan and Changbin’s part. There was no one to claim
child abuse anymore and so the new aim was to make everything look as bad as possible for
Chief Yang.
In the background, Kim Kangdae was working tirelessly alongside Chan’s father to bury the
man. Tomorrow this apartment would be crawling with police, they needed to find the right
evidence.
“Spoken to Hannie yet?” Changbin asks as he pulls some gloves over his hands and fixes a
mask over his face. It won’t take the smell away but it will at least help a little.
Chan shakes his head and pulls gloves over his hands. “He won’t talk to me.”
“And Minho?” Changbin asks.
Chan sighs. It was Minho who’d told him what happened. The night they’d safely delivered
Jeongin into Hyunjin’s arms, they left them alone in their ward and that’s when Chan’s phone
went off. He excused himself from the group and headed down the hall to answer.
“I told him.”
Immediately, panic overtook Chan’s thoughts. He looked around the corridor but no one was
watching him as he turned back to his phone.
“Told him what? What did you say, Minho?”
“Not the truth,” Minho sobs. “Not completely anyway. I told him about us, about the first
time we met. I told him it never happened again and then...then he asked…”
Chan closes his eyes. He can’t stand the sound of Minho crying. The way his breath hitches,
the choked sound he makes, Chan would do anything to stop him making that sound.
“Minho,” he says. “Minho, do you need me to-”
“No, stop,” Minho hisses, suddenly angry and upset. “You don’t get to do anything, you
prick, you’re the one who did this!”
“You weren’t meant to find out,” Chan argues back. “And I’m sorry, I’m really sorry but I-”
“He asked me why I’ve been so upset for the last few days. He asked me why I’ve been
crying and I had to say I couldn’t tell him!” Minho screams. “And then he asked me if I loved
you and that’s why he…” he coughs and Chan pinches the bridge of his nose. He leans
against the wall and presses his head to it.
“Minho please…” he begs. “Don’t...don’t cry.”
“You did this,” Minho says. “You did this. You told me not to tell anyone and I’m not telling
anyone but he’s gone, Chan. He’s gone. He didn’t leave because he knows I’m keeping a
secret, he left because I couldn’t look him in the eye and tell him I’m not in love with you
when I am!”
Something hurts. Something Chan thought he’d spent the better part of the last few years
squashing down. He bites his lip hard and squeezes his eyes shut. He hasn’t cried in years.
Nothing makes him cry, he’s spent his entire life trampling over everything that could
possibly hurt him, hardening himself against everything that could hurt him and yet this...this
is the one thing that escaped his rigorous emotional training.
Because nothing he ever does can rid himself of the mark Lee Minho left on him.
Swallowing down his emotions takes a little more work than normal but somehow he
manages it. His voice is steady, guarded when he answers.
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s all you can say isn’t it?” Minho spits back, bitter and angry. “I want you to tell
someone-”
“I can’t do that,” Chan answers firmly.
“Then you can get fucked!” Minho screams. “You fucking asshole, fuck you, fuck you, fuck
you! I wish I’d never met you, I wish you’d just fucking left me in that strip club! Fuck you
Chris!”
He hangs up and Chan catches his breath. He didn’t even realise he was shaking until he
opened his eyes and saw his hands struggling to hold his phone.
Snapping out of his reverie, Chan looks around the abandoned apartment and turns to look at
Changbin, who is watching him with a look of slight concern. He shakes his head.
“Minho’s not talking to me either,” he confesses. “I really fucked up, Bin.”
A look of pity passes over Changbin’s kind features. Of everyone he’s ever known, Changbin
has always been the last person to ever pass judgment on anyone. Least of all on the people
he loves.
“Look,” he sighs. “I still think it didn’t count. I mean Minho and Han hadn’t even met when
you guys had your fling. Besides, it was his condition for meeting Han in the first place.”
“I get the feeling he’d have agreed to meet Han if I’d fought harder on it,” Chan confesses
quietly, his eyes staring at a spot on the floor. “If I’d told him that I wouldn’t take him out for
the night, that it was impossible, I don’t think he’d have pushed it.”
“It was years ago,” Changbin reminds him. “Years and years ago. If Han’s going to be angry
about that, he should pull his head in.”
“You didn’t tell him to do that, did you?”

“No,” Changbin winces. He looks down. “I know you haven’t been able to see him but I
visited him, he’s staying at his parents place. He doesn’t look good, man. He’s depressed.”
“He won’t answer my calls,” Chan says. “Neither of them have quit yet but the restaurant-”
“Fuck the restaurant, it’s fine,” Changbin cuts in. “Seriously, the guys we’ve got working are
good. No one’s gotten curious about the freezer-”
“Because Seungmin is too scary to cross,” Chan adds with a small, amused smile.
“Exactly. The restaurant is fine with the relief staff we’ve got covering Innie, Hyunjin, Han
and Minho right now. But I really think you need to talk to Han at least.”
Chan shakes his head, he feels a familiar wave of exhaustion passing over him at the mere
thought of Jisung and Minho. They haven’t spoken to him since it happened. It’s been two
months, neither have come back to work and neither have answered his calls. Through Felix,
Changbin and Seungmin he gets updates that Minho is in his apartment with his cats.
According to Seungmin, he’s depressed and spends a lot of time crying with his cats.
Changbin and Felix regularly check in on Jisung. The mansion his parents own is almost
never used because they still travel all over the place so it’s kind of a perfect place for Jisung
to hide but he still won’t answer Chan’s calls.
“He has a right to his anger,” Chan tells Changbin. “Really he does. We didn’t tell him and
it’s not just about the fact that Minho and I had a thing.”
Changbin looks up with a raised eyebrow. “Really? What else is it?”
Here Chan pauses. The real reason Jisung walked out was because Minho couldn’t say he
didn’t love Chan. It wasn’t because Minho was keeping secrets and it wasn’t because Minho
and Chan had history - those two things he could live with. What he couldn’t handle was the
fact that Minho loved Chan too.
“It’s a little more complicated,” Chan says slowly, his eyes avoiding Changbin’s inquiring
gaze. “It’s not...so simple.”
“So uncomplicate it for me,” Changbin frowns. “What? Have you been sleeping with Minho
behind Han’s back?”
“No!”
“Then what?” Changbin presses. “Han needs you. I know he’s not answering your calls but
he needs you. In all the time I’ve ever known him, I’ve never seen him this depressed and
aside from Minho, you might be the only other person who can pull him out of it because
I’ve tried and failed so what did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Then what?”
Chan can’t look at him. He feels so guilty. Physically, he’d only done it once. He’d spent one
night with Minho and it was years ago. It was meant to be over, he’d never done anything
after that, he kept a respectful distance from Minho at all times and it wasn’t just because
Minho was seeing Jisung but it was also out of self preservation.
Chan hadn’t predicted that his feelings for Minho would grow regardless.
“He loves me,” he mumbles quietly.
Changbin leans in. “What?”
“He loves me,” Chan says, a little clearer now. He lifts his head to look at Changbin. “He
loves me. That’s why Han walked out. Because Minho loves both me and him.”
Silence washes over the apartment as Changbin processes that information. As he does, Chan
takes the opportunity to turn around and scan the apartment. The smell is strongest from the
garbage bins, months of waste just left to fester and rot. As he walks a little deeper, he notices
the smell spreads to the bedroom and frowns. Something isn’t right here.
“Well fuck,” Changbin says at last. “Do you love him back?”
“Does it matter?” Chan shoots back as he enters the bedroom. Changbin follows him and
looks around the room.
“It might matter to Han,” Changbin comments. “I mean....that’s his boyfriend. It’s one thing
that you guys had a fling but quite another if there’s feelings involved.”
“Whether I love him or not, it doesn’t matter,” Chan says again. He turns around to look at
Changbin. “In case you’ve forgotten. I’m getting married next week.”
Changbin rolls his eyes. “How could I fucking forget with all those reporters camped outside
the restaurant. The least those vultures could do is order something, instead of taking up the
parking lot.”
Chan shrugs and turns back to look around the room. He sniffs the air but that strange scent
still lingers. It’s not a pleasant smell at all, still something rotten, something dying but the
rotting food is all the way in the kitchen. The bedroom door was closed, the smell should not
have travelled this far.
He cautiously peeks into the little bin near the bed and reels back when he sees the used
condoms.
“Fucks sake.”
“Well at least we know she wasn’t pregnant,” Changbin mutters.

Chan covers his nose with his sleeve and looks around the room. “DNA testing would
probably identify her...maybe. I don’t fucking know, I’m not touching that.”
“Nearest I can tell, there’s enough evidence in this apartment to support the fact that he was
violating a minor,” Changbin surmises. “Let’s just dump her body here and fuck off already.”
“No, not yet,” Chan says. He lowers his sleeve and turns to Changbin. “I had people looking
into it. I pulled all my contacts to discreetly look into Yuki and none of them could find her
fucking parents. Something is off about that.”
“What do you mean? You mean there was no record of her parents?”
“None,” Chan says. “She had a file but there were no parents listed there. Now, that either
means the profile she has is a fake one and no one expected to dig any deeper than that or...I
dunno maybe she was abandoned? Left at a church? That does happen.”
“If she was left somewhere, her file would say that,” Changbin frowns. “Wouldn’t it?”
“It doesn’t make sense. The girl has to have parents, she wasn’t born out of thin air,” Chan
sighs. “I was kind of hoping his apartment might have an answer to that. How did he even
have access to her?”
“His phone was clean,” Changbin says as Chan heads back out of the bedroom and starts
walking down the hallway.
Checking the office, Chan spots the computer at the desk. He heads inside and as he sits
down, Changbin enters the office as well and lingers behind him. He watches as Chan starts
the computer up and hits the password screen.
“Shit. Any guesses?”
“Hardened police officer with a thing for little girls,” Changbin hums. “On top of that,
supposed to be a married man but neglected his mentally ill wife and son. Man has a lot of
secrets.”
Chan sighs. “I know a hacker but we don’t have time to get him here.”
“Try pressing enter.”
“I...are you serious?” Chan looks up, his eyes wide as he scans Changbin’s face. “What if this
thing only has a limited amount of times we can try?”
“Chief Yang is also an idiot,” Changbin points out. “An arrogant one at that. He made friends
in high places, he’s been comfortable on his throne for years and he honestly thought Innie
would just agree to running off with him. Fucks sake he shoved Innie in a mission to find
evidence from you and Innie was barely trained - the man is an arrogant ass.”
“Still...do you really think he’d hide all his shit on an unprotected computer?” Chan coughs.
“He thought he was invincible, I think he would.”
Slowly turning back to the computer, Chan shrugs and hits the enter button. When the screen
opens to the desktop, the two stare at it for a long moment.
Finally Changbin nods. “Idiot.”
“Beyond,” Chan mutters, clicking into the emails and folders.
As he works, Changbin heads out to look over the rest of the apartment. Chan hears him
shuffling around, carefully pushing things out of the way so he can check.
“I’ll bring her in,” Changbin calls.
“Be careful, don’t leave prints,” Chan replies, his eyes steady on the screen.
The emails are clean, wiped. He’d probably been predicting that someone would come
snooping after he disappeared with Yuki and Jeongin. Clicking his tongue in annoyance,
Chan looks through the files and all the while he can hear Changbin working in the hallway.
Just when he’s about to give up, it suddenly occurs to him to search for hidden files. It’s basic
computer skills but one of the easiest to forget.
Then, like magic, the files appear. Files after files of work, his home, his family, Yuki, her
family. Chan looks through all of them and when it dawns on him what happened, he feels a
cold chill rush through him. It’s not unwelcome, it’s familiar.
“Oh Bin,” he mutters as he picks up an address. “I knew there was a reason why Chief Yang
felt so familiar.”
They leave Yuki in his room. It wasn’t an easy job, nor was it entirely pleasant to keep her
body for all of two months but they’re glad to finally be rid of her when they leave the
apartment just as pristine as it had been when they first arrived. Chan drives and there’s a
heaviness in the air as he drives right out of Seoul and towards an old warehouse.
“Of all the cliche places…” Changbin mutters as they pass the rusted gates leading to the
warehouse. “If the man was half as smart as his son…”
“We’ve gotta thank god he’s not,” Chan sighs. “Innie was fucked from day one. His mother
was trying to kill him and his father-”
“That’s where he gets the blackouts,” Changbin shakes his head. “I’m willing to bet Chief
Yang has them too, he’s just found out how to control them. Is that even hereditary?”
“I don’t even know what it is,” Chan confesses, he pulls the car into park and climbs out.
“Nearest I can tell it’s some sort of dissociation, but the murderous kind - which is rare. Most
people just zone out and don’t remember what they did but they rarely kill anyone.”
“How many people died the night Innie got out of the hospital?” Changbin asks as they
approach the door.
Chan grimaces, he tries the doorknob but when it doesn’t give, he pulls a switchblade from
his back pocket. “Four.”
There’s an ominous chill in the air. The night wind blows, rattling the old windows and
causing a long, windy moan to rush through the warehouse. Changbin turns around to watch
the dark shadows of the trees rustling around them and it’s like the first scene of a horror
movie. The scene where the dumb people wanting to check an urban myth out end up getting
killed because it turns out the myth is true.
The door gives way and Changbin grabs the end of Chan’s shirt to follow him in. There’s a
rotten stench in the air, similar to what had been in the apartment and it makes them both
shiver.
“It’s okay, Bin,” Chan assures him, his hand fumbling around for a lightswitch.
“Shut up, that’s what every character says right before the monster comes and rips them to
pieces,” Changbin snarls.
Chan’s fingers finally find a lightswitch. He flicks it on and the entire warehouse floods with
light and there, hanging from the scaffolds, piled on the floor are bodies. Missing people, sex
workers, Chief Yang had signed off on them all. Missing. Could not be found. No one
checked him because the people who could were his friends, his partners. A network of old
golfing buddies who either never believed their friends capable of this or knew but didn’t
care.
Chan and Changbin stare in disbelief. Bodies upon bodies just left there to rot. Most are in
advanced stages of rot, with piles of rats crowded around them. It’s not like the freezer, where
they’re preserved and eventually chopped to pieces for people to eat, they were just left there.
Somewhere among the bodies, possibly one of the oldest ones there, are Yuki’s parents. Chief
Yang had mentioned them and the warehouse in the hidden folders. He kept track of every
kill, every time he ‘blacked out’ he remembered it all.
That was why he rarely came home. Because in Seoul, in his apartment, he had Yuki.
“I fucking hate the police,” Changbin mutters, his hand still tight where it holds Chan’s shirt.
Chan nods in agreement.
5th Kill
My wife played around when I was away. A logical person wouldn’t blame her either, I had
something better in Seoul. I had my life, I had Yuki, I didn’t have this hysterical woman
following me around - in a way, it was better.
But that didn’t mean I could tolerate it. The way Jeongin got sick all the time, the way he was
trained by his mother to escape through the living room window when some of her
‘playdates’ got violent with her.
Why does she think they never came back? Call me a hypocrite, but she’s mine and every man
she ever touched, the last thing they ever saw was me.
Waiting in the bedroom, Jeongin sits on the end of the bed, his legs swinging as he keeps one
eye on the bathroom door. At his side, Honey is curled up and sleeping.
Since Hyunjin had been cleared to go home, it had been Jeongin’s job to stop him from
overexerting himself. At least until he was completely healed and not at risk of injuring
himself further.
A task that should have been easier than it really was. Hyunjin was never the sort to stay still,
the thought of staying home and taking it easy was something close to torture for him and
Jeongin had to get creative to stop him moving. That mainly meant a lot of blowjobs on the
couch, keeping him still, tiring him out, practically sucking the energy from him until he was
placated.
Now, nearing the end of his healing period, Hyunjin had made Jeongin buy him hairdye and
now Jeongin had to wait. Hyunjin had done his own hair, he’d locked himself in the
bathroom for both the application and the waiting time, insisting that Jeongin wasn’t allowed
to see him until it was done.
Except Jeongin had heard the shower end ten minutes ago and Hyunjin still hasn’t come out.
“What are you doing in there?” he calls, his hand petting Honey’s head as he watches the
bathroom door. “Are you jerking off?”
A snort. “Why the hell would I do that when I have you to do it for me?”
“Then come out already, I wanna see,” Jeongin whines, his legs kicking a little more for lack
of anything else to do.
It hasn’t been all bad. Staying home to look after Hyunjin did come with some benefits. The
world felt quieter, somehow more peaceful when it was just the two of them in their bubble.
On the best nights, Hyunjin would curl into Jeongin - usually after he’s just mixed his pain
medication with alcohol - and they’d just lie there and watch the night sky through their
bedroom window.
Sometimes Felix visited (mainly to bring them food), sometimes it was Chan or Changbin.
They found out what happened to Minho and Jisung through Felix.
“He’s not doing good,” Felix had said when he put a few containers of brownies on the bench
and turned to Jeongin. “I’ve never seen Minho like that. Curled up in a blanket, it’s been days
since he changed out of his pyjamas, he’s just a mess.”
“Han’s not much better,” Changbin says from the living room where he’s petting Honey. “It
just...it destroyed him.”
“All because Minho’s in love with two people,” Hyunjin comments where Jeongin had made
him sit in the armchair and stay there. “He needs to get over himself.”
“Hyunjin!” Jeongin scolds immediately.
Hyunjin holds his hands up in innocence. “I’m just saying that the idea of monogamy isn’t
biological. Human emotions are complicated and it’s totally possible to love two people at
the same time.”
“Funny, coming from a psychopath who can’t love,” Changbin comments dryly.
Hyunjin just shoots him a smile and leans back in his chair. “So Minho loves Chan too.
Doesn’t mean he loves Han any less.”
“So if I fell for someone else, you’d be totally cool with that?” Jeongin challenges with a
raised eyebrow.
Hyunjin smirks. “I’m different, Innie. You’re mine.”
Jeongin rolls his eyes and turns back to Felix.
“Anyway,” Felix continues and taps the containers. “Don’t eat all of these at once. I gave
Minho three containers and he ate it all in one day. I’ve also brought you some vegetables,
meat and drinks. Please stay healthy.”
The sound of the bathroom door opening snaps Jeongin out of his thoughts. He looks up to
see the steam escaping and Hyunjin’s form walking through. Next to him, Honey lifts her
head to watch as well.
Hyunjin appears dressed in a long sleeve black shirt with white cuffs. There’s a long black
belt tied around his middle. Black, leather pants highlight his long legs and his hair is jet
black and tied in a half ponytail. Jeongin spots a glittering black ribbon holding it in place.
Hyunjin stops just at the bedroom door and holds his arms out. “What do you think?”
Jeongin’s eyes widen, he takes a good look at every meticulous detail and after spending two
months with Hyunjin dressed in baggy clothing so as not to irritate his wound, this is very
different. Hyunjin had paid an amazing amount of attention to the smallest details of his
outfit, his hair, his overall look.
“Are you going to wear that to the wedding?” he asks, his voice a little strangled.
“Of course,” Hyunjin shrugs as he saunters closer. “Why? Is it inappropriate?”
Inappropriate isn’t quite the word.
“Distracting,” Jeongin admits as Hyunjin leans forward, crawling onto the bed, leaning over
him and pushing him down to lie back.
Hyunjin hovers over him and the smile on his face is insufferable. All knowing, like he can
see right through Jeongin and he knows the effect he has on him. He’s slow, deliberate, like a
panther stalking his prey, every move calculated. The blonde had made him look ethereal,
almost like a prince. The dark hair however, it brings out another side and one Jeongin is
completely helpless to.
Long locks dangle slightly over his shoulders as he hovers over Jeongin, both hands and both
knees on either side of him, trapping him underneath him.
Then Hyunjin leans down and gently, torturously, nuzzles Jeongin’s neck, his jawline, his ear.
Following his nose, Hyunjin plants gentle kisses to the skin. Then when he reaches the
earlobe, he bites. Hard.
Jeongin jolts and Hyunjin places a hand on his chest to hold him still.
“Afraid I’m gonna be prettier than the bride?” Hyunjin teases.
Jeongin snorts and tries to ignore Hyunjin’s other hand sliding down his chest. “You already
are. It’s the other guests I’m concerned about, you’re gonna give old men heartattacks, old
ladies are gonna wanna take you home, all the bridesmaids are gonna want to fuck you and
oh-”
Hyunjin’s fingers slip under his shirt, long, thin fingers flick at his nipple and Jeongin gasps
as his back arches beneath him.
Hyunjin’s nose nuzzles at his exposed neck, another flick and Jeongin’s head tilts back,
giving him more space.
They haven’t done anything in months. When Hyunjin was finally released from the hospital,
Jeongin hadn’t taken any chances. Sex counted as exertion, as moving around too much and
so Jeongin had forbidden it along with strenuous exercise. They’d been surviving on
handjobs and blowjobs too long and now that Hyunjin was finally hovering over him, that
dry period was making itself known.
Jeongin can’t recall ever getting so hard so fast.
His hand reaches up, feeling along the silk material of Hyunjin’s shirt until he finds the belt
and tugs it hard. Hyunjin falls onto him with a small noise and when Jeongin opens his eyes,
he can see the other lying on top of him, a small smile on his face. Almost as though he were
drunk.
One hand sinks into Jeongin’s hair, Hyunjin dips his head and starts pressing kisses to his
neck. Kisses that turn into small, hungry bites, marks all along the skin. Every bite, every
spark of pain sends Jeongin’s body heat soaring, his heart pounding in his ears as he slips his
hand along Hyunjin’s body, legs parting to curl around Hyunjin’s frame.
Fuck, has it really been so long? Hyunjin’s tongue drags the most foreign noises from
Jeongin. Stuttery, breathing heavy, he’s grinding before he even realises it with his hands
digging into Hyunjin’s waist. He can feel Hyunjin marking his neck, leaving angry red marks
wherever he bites and he’s not even aware of Hyunjin’s hands pulling him out of his button
up shirt until it opens and Hyunjin dips his head down to start biting at his nipple instead.
It was only yesterday he was on his knees in the living room, listening to Hyunjin gasping his
name but this feels different. A little more desperate and perhaps a little more out of control.
On Jeongin’s orders and stubbornness, Hyunjin had stayed still to heal. He left him no other
choice but now he’s almost completely healed and he’s taken full advantage of Jeongin’s
momentary paralysis to remind him what was missing.
This, Hyunjin on top of him, Hyunjin devouring him whole, body heat and shared gasps, this
was what was missing.
Jeongin’s hands are shaking, they tug at Hyunjin’s belt until it gives way and slips off, falling
off the bed and onto the floor with a loud clacking sound. He pulls at buttons, peeling
Hyunjin out of his shirt and he lifts himself slightly so Hyunjin can do the same to him.
Pulling Hyunjin into a hard kiss, Jeongin tilts his head and holds Hyunjin’s face in his hands.
They’re just at the edge of the bed and when Hyunjin shifts backwards, bringing Jeongin with
him, they fall back onto the floor. Jeongin keeps his legs around Hyunjin, now sitting on his
lap he grinds himself down and listens to Hyunjin’s strangled moans.
“Innie, I’m gonna destroy you,” Hyunjin rasps, his hands around Hyunjin’s waist tightening
as he twists them around to pin Jeongin to the floor.
Jeongin gasps. “But your wound-”
“Fuck the wound, it’s healed,” Hyunjin hisses, one hand around Jeongin’s neck, holding him
down whilst the other makes quick work of his jeans. “You’ve been in charge of me the
whole time I was recovering and I humoured you. I’m recovered now. It’s my turn.”
Jeongin’s giggling is quickly cut short when Hyunjin’s hand reaches into his underwear. With
a gasp, he tilts his head back, eyes fluttering, one hand holding Hyunjin’s wrist but making
no attempt to pull his hand from his neck.
He doesn’t even notice when he’s naked, Hyunjin is so attentive, so hungry that he can’t think
about anything other than the heat of his body, the taste of his skin and the intoxicating scent
coming from him. His fingers rush through dark hair and he can’t stop staring at the way
Hyunjin’s entire look changes with just one bottle of hair dye.
Hyunjin sinks down his body, his face disappearing between Jeongin’s legs and Jeongin’s
eyes flutter. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Honey watching both of them from
where she’s still perched at the end of the bed.
His breathless giggling is mixed with moans when he feels Hyunjin’s mouth on him.
“Honey’s watching us.”
Hyunjin pauses, he looks up and smirks around Jeongin’s cock. He pulls himself off and
mutters: “She’ll get a good look then,” before he sucks Jeongin back in.
Letting his head fall back onto the floor, Jeongin surrenders with a breathless moan. He
grasps a fistful of Hyunjin’s hair in his hand, his hips moving into Hyunjin’s mouth. It’s
almost maddening, the way Hyunjin’s mouth works him to the brink of insanity. The press of
his tongue, the slightest graze of teeth.
Jeongin jumps when he feels Hyunjin’s fingers pressing into him. It’s been awhile since
they’ve been able to do that and Hyunjin isn’t gentle about it either. Quick, stabbing, almost
punishing movements have Jeongin gasping and pulling at his hair but it doesn’t deter
Hyunjin at all.
One well aimed stab has Jeongin almost screaming, his legs shaking so hard until Hyunjin’s
arm comes up to hold him still.
Jeongin’s free hand reaches out blindly. Fingers grasping for something, anything to ground
him because Hyunjin is doing everything he can to drive him insane. His fingers find the leg
of the bed and hold on tight, fingers digging as Hyunjin stretches him, prepares him with
enough lube his fingers slip in and out with ease.
Then Hyunjin pulls back, Jeongin barely gets the time to whine before the other is hovering
over him again. Jeongin’s fingers slip into his hair, pulling as his legs wrap around him again.
Between them, Hyunjin reaches down to position himself and then finally, finally he’s inside.
Jeongin didn’t realise how much he’d missed this until that first, dizzying push.
One of Hyunjin’s hands comes down on the floor just next to Jeongin’s head. A hard slam
and Jeongin gasps at the sight of Hyunjin’s eyes fluttering, his head tilting back towards the
ceiling. It’s a purely physical reaction, no amount of control hides how much he’d missed this
too.
Then he thrusts and Jeongin holds on for dear life.
It’s like the two months Hyunjin spent resting had been enough time for him to gather every
ounce of pent up energy he had. Every thrust sends Jeongin into a dizzying frenzy, he can see
white behind his eyelids, his breath catches in his throat and the sounds...fuck the sounds,
he’d forgotten what sex with Hyunjin sounded like.
Every shift between their bodies, every gasp, every moan, the slick sound of lube and skin
slapping against skin. Jeongin slides one hand down Hyunjin’s back, sweat slipping along
skin as he holds onto him and begs him, more, more, fuck, more and he always loves the
reaction his begging drags out of Hyunjin. The way his body shivers, his fingers grip him a
little harder.
He’s losing every sense of himself until he doesn’t know where he ends and Hyunjin begins.
It’s not until Jeongin opens his eyes that he even realises he has tears in his eyes and he’s so
close, he’s so close it’s torture. He uses his hand in Hyunjin’s hair to pull him down and take
his lips like his life depends on it.
He can feel it, Hyunjin’s getting close too. His thrusts are a little more erratic, uncontrolled,
getting faster and faster the closer he gets. They’re gasping against each other’s lips,
Jeongin’s fingernails scratch a long, pink line down Hyunjin’s back, his feet brace against the
floor as he thrusts back and there, there, fuck-
Hyunjin sucks the air right out of his lungs. He swallows his moans, his cries and Jeongin
shakes so hard Hyunjin has to hold him still.
Then Jeongin comes crashing down in time to see Hyunjin’s eyes flutter, his head dipping as
he finally comes with a long, shaky exhale.
They lie there on the floor for a few minutes. Chests rising and falling as they both catch their
breath. Jeongin’s arms come around Hyunjin, holding him close. A few minutes pass of just
breathing before Hyunjin finally pulls out and rolls off him to lie next to him instead.
“Fuck,” Hyunjin breathes. “That was fun.”
Jeongin starts to giggle. His hands come up to hide his face, shoulders shaking with
breathless mirth. When he pulls his hands back to look over at Hyunjin, he sees a wide smile
on his face, tired, spent but blessedly happy.
“What happened to destroying me?” Jeongin teases, just to be a brat.
“Give me a minute,” Hyunjin scoffs. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Jeongin laughs again, he’s pulled into Hyunjin’s arms and curls into him so easily. Like he
was always meant to be right here, with Hyunjin.
Until a bark brings their attention up to Honey, who is now peering at them from the edge of
the bed, her tail wagging and a bit of drool dripping from her tongue to the floor near
Jeongin’s head.
“I think she’s hungry,” Jeongin comments.
“I’ll feed her later,” Hyunjin promises, his hand sliding along Jeongin’s naked body.
“Because when I’m done with you, you won’t be walking properly for hours.”
-
15th Kill
I was getting bored by this point. It’s all too safe, it’s all too easy.
But in that same breath, I can say it’s not. It’s like my own little secret, my uncontrollable
secret and I’ve learnt to not only remember my blackouts but control them too. It feels like an
urge, a bodily urge and ignoring it is akin to suppressing a sneeze. If you actually manage to
do it, you don’t feel any sense of satisfaction at all.
So I indulge every urge. Feed it. I put Yuki to bed at night, I sing her to sleep, hold her little
frame in my arms and when I leave, I hunt.
Like a wolf. And you may think me pretentious or even deluded for referring to myself as such
a magnificent creature, but that’s what it feels like. When the full moon is out, the wolf howls.
When the urge bites, I have no choice but to hunt.
Minho has a thick blanket around his shoulders when Seungmin visits.
There’s a scent in the apartment. Cat smell, it’s not until Seungmin wanders in through the
hallway that he realises Jisung must have been the main person to clean the apartment - either
that or Minho’s too depressed to do it - because it’s a mess.
He follows the walking blanket back to the living room and watches as Minho sits himself in
the same spot he was in the last time Seungmin visited. One corner of the couch whilst the
cats have quite comfortably taken over the other side.
The living room is a tip. Pizza boxes, empty containers that once contained Felix’s brownies
and empty bottles that used to contain alcohol, fizzy or water. Seungmin glances at the cats,
watches how content they are and he can only imagine the only time Minho gets up is to
either feed them or use the toilet.
Otherwise, he’s in exactly the same spot he was a few days ago.
On the TV, Chan’s father is loudly proclaiming to a hoard of reporters that he worked
tirelessly to unmask Chief Yang and his string of murders. He doesn’t even want to imagine
what Jeongin thinks of this.
“Yay, Chan’s dad wins again,” Minho mumbles lifelessly, his eyes watching the screen dully.
“That’ll help him in the election.”
“He got enough votes to run so yes,” Seungmin folds his arms and leans back to check the
kitchen, which, as he fears, is also a pigsty.
“Minho, when was the last time you had a shower?”
He looks down and there’s no life in Minho’s eyes. It’s terrifying because even when he was
on the bones of his ass, even when he was scraping together two pennies to survive the week,
he fought. This Minho...this Minho doesn’t fight. He just looks up at Seungmin, dead eyes
and all, and says: “Does it matter?”
That’s when Seungmin marches towards him, rips the blanket off, leans down and hauls
Minho over his shoulder.
“What the fuck?!” Minho screeches, his hands already whacking Seungmin’s back as the
other carries him down the hallway. “Put me down, you fucking caveman!”
“You’re showering and if I have to get in there with you and clean you inch by inch, I will,”
Seungmin tells him. “I don’t care if your life is going down the drain, you’re not doing this.”
“Fuck you, Seungmin! Fuck you!” Minho screams.
He’s still strong. Seungmin hasn’t forgotten the fact that Minho is much, much stronger than
he initially appears. All those flowing outfits, the baggy hoodies, they hide the fact that all
this time he’s kept himself rigorously in shape and the only reason why he isn’t getting out of
Seungmin’s grip now is because he’d spent the last two months being depressed and eating
everything in sight.
So he’s perhaps a tiny bit weaker than normal but still strong enough to bruise Seungmin’s
back.
Kicking the bathroom door open, Seungmin keeps Minho on his shoulder whilst he reaches
for the shower with his other hand. The water starts running and Seungmin grits his teeth as
he uses the remnants of his strength to place Minho on the bench.
“Now,” he huffs, deliberately standing between Minho’s legs to stop him bolting. “Are you
gonna get undressed and in that shower, or am I gonna have to make you?”
Minho glares at him. “As if you could, weakling.”
“I’m not as strong as you and I don’t actually want to see your cock again but I will strip you
naked and I will scrub every inch of you if you fight me,” Seungmin warns. “You’re better
than this Minho. You’re not the guy who just stays at home for two months, gets fat and
forgets to shower.”
Minho’s shaking. His glare is set on his face but Seungmin is one of the few people in the
world who can see the broken person behind it. He can see the glare is a shield and behind it,
Minho is beyond broken. He’s never done this before, not even when he first moved to Busan
after finding out his guardian was violating him. He picked himself up again and tried to
survive but this...this is different.
The glare doesn’t stay. Not when Minho knows Seungmin can read him like an open book. A
shaky breath escapes first, then the tears. Seungmin leans forward and presses his forehead to
Minho’s. His hands, which had been acting as a barrier to stop Minho running, move to wrap
around him and Minho’s first sob is followed by him leaning in to bury his face in
Seungmin’s shoulder.
He doesn’t fight after that. Seungmin lets him cry for a few minutes, rubbing circles in
Minho’s back before he finally steps back to help the other off the bench.
Minho sniffs and starts pulling at his shirt. “I’ll shower, you don’t need to help me.”
“Good,” Seungmin smirks. “Because I really don’t think Han would like another guy seeing
his boyfriends’ cock.”
Minho huffs and gently pushes him out of the bathroom.
Whilst he showers, Seungmin gets to work. He grabs a large garbage bag from the kitchen
and starts clearing out the pizza boxes and all the rubbish he finds around the house. The cats
curl around his legs, curiously watching him as he goes. He then heads to the kitchen and
starts in on the dishes, wipes down the benches and just as he’s sweeping the floors, Minho
comes out from the bathroom a lot cleaner than he’s been in days.
He disappears in his bedroom for a moment to dress and when he comes back out again, he
looks a little more like himself.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, nodding to the broom in Seungmin’s hands. “You didn’t have to.”
“Yeah well, I don’t know how you could think in this mess,” Seungmin mumbles as he
finishes up cleaning and looks around. The apartment looks much better, a little more like it
used to. “I brought you some food. Salads, casseroles and stuff like that.”
Minho’s smile is a ghost of what it used to be. “Felix?”
“Yeah, he’s worried,” Seungmin says as he goes to his bag to bring out the food. Containers
and containers of pre-cooked meals. He goes to the kitchen and stocks up the fridge before
coming back to the living room. “Really though, you should probably come back to work. It’s
not like Han’s there and you need something to do. Staying at home isn’t your style.”
Minho sits back down on the couch. It’s the way he slouches, the way his lips tremble that
tells Seungmin that this is serious. The Minho he knows doesn’t slouch.
Gently moving Onyx aside, Seungmin takes a seat on the opposite armchair and watches
Minho carefully. He looks broken, but not only that, there’s a strong element of self loathing
as well. He looks done.
Seungmin doesn’t know what to do. He’s never really been a master at comforting others, nor
does he ever know what to say. So what he does instead is move to sit next to Minho instead.
Silently, Minho rests his head on his shoulder and they just stay there, watching the press
conference on the TV, the revelation that Chief Yang is a murderer and the rise of Mayor
Bang in the popularity ranks.
-
27th Kill
Nameless by this point. They’re all nameless. I can remember my first few kills with perfect
clarity but by this point, they’re starting to blend together.
There’s a strange disconnect about it. It’s one thing to not remember the blackouts but when
you do, you disconnect. It’s almost like a fever dream, hazy, seen through goggles with no
peripherals. I felt nothing when I went about my daily life, when I came home to Yuki (by this
point, she was learning how to cook and she was always so proud of herself when she
managed to make something without burning it)
I want you to know, I didn’t touch her right away. By this point especially, I was well aware of
myself. Of my blackouts, my urges, my preferences. Children are not my preference but the
second she turned twelve…
You may say she was still a child then but to me...to me she was everything.
It became a good life. My girl, my career, my life, my secret.
Almost made me feel sorry I had to go back in time to see my wife throwing our son in an
asylum.
The night before the wedding, Chan stays in his apartment.
It’s one of many he owns. Many people, including his staff, know about the mansion but he
actually owns three apartments around Busan - just in case he needs to hide.
Of course the people closest to him know about these locations. His hiding spots. Periodically
- especially right before something massive happens - he hides and they all know this. He
hides from paparazzi, from the press, from everyone.
There are only two people whom he cannot hide from and one of them knocks on his door at
around 11pm at night.
Chan had been watching the press conference and talking to Jeongin on the phone (who
surprisingly had a rather detached reaction to the fact that his father was a murderer.)
“It explains a lot,” Jeongin admits quietly. “Not just the fact that he was never home but other
things as well. Little things I kind of ignored because I didn’t think much of it at the time.”
Chan looks at the screen where his father has made sure to be up front and center with Kim
Kangdae. The two of them basking in the spotlight of an investigation they really had nothing
to do with.
He shakes his head. “Yeah well, he’s going away for good now. You okay?”
“He’s not like mum, I’ll be fine,” Jeongin assures him. “Besides-Hyunjin! Feed the dog, she’s
staring at my food!”
Chan can’t help it. He grins. The thought of anyone bossing Hyunjin around is hilarious. Just
a few months ago it would have been impossible to imagine and yet he can tell quite easily
how whipped Hyunjin is for Jeongin. Anyone else would be slaughtered but
Jeongin...somehow it just happened and Hyunjin doesn’t seem to mind.
It’s almost comically domestic, the two of them when they’re at home and it contrasts deeply
with what Chan knows they’re both capable of when people cross them.
“Sorry hyung,” Jeongin says as he returns to the phone. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
The knock on the door draws Chan’s attention away from the screen and he pushes himself
up from the couch. “Gotta go, Innie, someone’s here. Remember to be on time tomorrow,
yeah?”
“Of course, we’ll have a getaway car ready if you wanna ditch her at the altar,” Jeongin
promises.
“I wish,” Chan sighs as he approaches the door. “Later, Innie.”
The second he opens the door, the first thing he sees is a fist that knocks him right off his
feet.
He lands hard on the floor, pain and heat spurting from his nose as he looks up and sees
Jisung in the process of closing the door after himself and calmly taking off his shoes.
“There,” Jisung says as he walks into the apartment. “I feel better now. Let’s talk.”
Chan groans, his head hurts where he’d hit it on the floor and his face is burning. When he
places a hand under his nostrils, sure enough he feels blood.
Pushing himself up onto his feet again, Chan heads into the kitchen where he sees Jisung in
the process of bringing out the whiskey and two glasses. He looks at Chan’s face and pulls up
a paper towel, wordlessly handing it to Chan as the two head to the table, both sitting on
opposite ends.
Chan groans when he sits down, his hand pressing to his nose to stop the flow of the blood. “I
think you broke my nose,” he mutters. “You do remember I have to get married tomorrow,
don’t you?”
“I’m sure you can make up a lie to your favour. That’s what you’re good at, after all,” Jisung
mutters, his hand steadying the glass as he fills both of them with whiskey and pushes one to
Chan.
Chan narrows his eyes. He can catch the thinly veiled insult but makes no comment for now
as he takes the shot and downs it in one. Jisung follows and moves to refill both their glasses
again.
Eventually Chan’s nose stops bleeding. He tenderly feels along the bridge but nothing seems
broken. With a sigh, he throws the paper towel away and downs the next shot Jisung sets
before him.
“Okay,” he says. “You came here to talk, so talk. Get it off your chest.”
“I’m not drunk enough,” Jisung mutters, pouring another glass for them both.
Chan doesn’t argue. Admittedly, getting drunk before a wedding is never a good idea but if it
comes down to doing this so he can find some grounding with Jisung or coming tomorrow
sober and miserable, he’d pick the former.
Two shots down and Chan leans back in his chair to watch the way Jisung wavers a little.
“Lightweight,” he comments.
Jisung shoots him the middle finger and fills more glasses. “Okay, I think I’m about
ready...we’re getting stoned too, just so you know.”
“Fine,” Chan shrugs. “I can turn up tomorrow hungover and stoned. Just talk to me.”
At first, it looks like it’s difficult. Jisung kind of stares off to the side, a forlorn look
appearing in his eyes as he thinks it over. As if he’s trying to find the right wording to convey
just how he feels, what he’s feeling. He’s had two months to think about this, to stew over it
and neither he nor Minho are any closer to finding an answer. The irreparable truth is that
Minho loves both of them and Jisung doesn’t know how to swallow it - or even if he can.
“One thing I need to know and you can’t lie to me,” Jisung finally says, his eyes flicking up
to meet Chan’s gaze. “I have to know. Did you ever do anything with Minho while he was
with me?”
“Never,” Chan replies, immediate and resolute. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“But you’d sleep with him when you went to meet him for me,” Jisung challenges. “When
you volunteered to go there on my behalf.”
Chan shakes his head. “You can’t hold that one against me,” he tells Jisung. “You don’t know
what happened.”
“So tell me,” Jisung snaps. “Tell me how you go in there for me and come out with-”
“I went in there because you were too chickenshit to do it yourself!” Chan barks. “And
Minho didn’t know you. He didn’t owe you any loyalty and for your information, the deal
was that I take him out for one night and he’d agree to meet with you. Neither of us planned
for that to end in sex, it just happened!”
“How the fuck did that just happen?!” Jisung shouts, slamming his hand on the table. “What?
Did he trip and land on your dick?!”
“It just happened!” Chan says, raising his voice a little. “I have eyes, I’m not a fucking monk,
Han!”
“You expect me to believe that from just one night of sleeping together, he fell in love with
you?” Jisung spits. “You’ve gotta think I’m an idiot.”
“I don’t, I don’t,” Chan says, his hands up in defense before he reaches for the whiskey bottle
to refill their glasses. “I don’t, Han. I don’t know how to explain it either but if you want the
details-”
“I don’t but I have to hear them,” Jisung snaps.
“We connected, we clicked,” Chan says. He pushes a full glass to Jisung and holds up his
own. “That’s the only way I can explain it. We clicked and...and I’ve never connected with
someone so perfectly in my life.”
He downs the whiskey and watches the slow realisation hit Jisung. It’s heartbreaking the way
he looks like he’s about to cry as he realises that whatever connection this was, it was too
strong for either of them to ignore - as much as they tried.
Finally Jisung sculls the drink and holds out his glass for another shot. As Chan fills it for
him, Jisung slumps back in his seat and shakes his head.
“He loves you,” he mutters. “He loves you and...and for me…”
“He loves you too,” Chan reminds him, pushing the full glass towards him. “I know you
don’t want to hear this from me but people can be in love with two people at the same time.
You know we have no control over that kind of shit and we did honestly try not to let it
happen.”
Jisung’s eyes are far away, heartbroken as Chan tries to bring him back.
“I fucked around, I tried drowning myself in work, I did everything possible to get him off
my mind and it didn’t work. But that doesn’t mean I want him.”
“Liar.”
“No, I don’t want him and he doesn’t want me,” Chan tells him. “He wants you. It doesn’t
matter what we feel, what he feels for you is ten times stronger.”
Jisung is quiet for a while. Chan watches him carefully and he feels helpless. Telling Jisung
the truth was always going to hurt him but he’d never believe the lies. It’s not an easy
situation either way. Not when the hard truth is that Jisung has two choices. The first being to
leave Minho for this and the second being to go back to him, but always accept that Minho’s
feelings for Chan are there as well.
Chan knows it would take a stronger and more open minded person than most to just accept
that. Especially because Jisung has always only ever loved one person, he’s devoted his life
to one person and that’s how he loves.
Finally, Jisung pulls a bag out of his pocket. Chan recognises the dark green tinge of the
herbs inside and the papers. He watches Jisung meticulously roll one up before pulling a
lighter out of his pocket. With shaking hands, he tries three times to light the end before Chan
finally leans over and takes the lighter to do it for him.
The woody scent of marijuana fills the air and when Jisung hands the blunt out to Chan, Chan
takes a few drags too. Normally he would abstain, but just like yesterday with the smoking,
he’s too stressed not to.
“He’s been crying,” Jisung says. “The last few days, out of nowhere he just started crying and
he won’t tell me why. He says he can’t tell me why.”
Chan holds the weed in his lungs for a moment and exhales into the air with a relieved groan.
It hits his mind immediately, fogging it enough to help him cope with the situation. He leans
back in his seat and holds the blunt back to Jisung.
“That’s my fault,” he confesses. “He found out something he wasn’t supposed to find out. I
told him not to tell anyone, even you.”
Jisung frowns. “What did he find out?”
“I can’t,” Chan mutters and it sounds far too much like what Minho had been saying.
I can’t say. I can’t. I can’t. Jisung stares confusedly at Chan for a few seconds and leans in.
“This thing...is Minho the only one who knows? Does Bin know? Or Fe?”
“No one else knows,” Chan confesses. “If I had it my way, Minho wouldn’t know either but
he found out accidentally.”
Jisung stares at him. Between the two of them, they take a few more puffs whilst Chan gives
Jisung enough time to think over it. He knows it’s not fair because Jisung has no idea what
the secret is but Jisung isn’t like Minho. This isn’t the first secret Chan’s kept from him.
“There’s something you’re hiding and it’s making Minho upset,” Jisung summarises. He
looks at Chan. “Is it something we need to know about?”
“Not yet,” Chan replies.
“Will you tell us eventually?”
“Yes.”
There’s no lie in his eyes. There’s no point. He will tell them one day but not now. Jisung and
Changbin have been around him too long to know that when he keeps secrets from them, he
has his reasons. In the past it’s been about political things - things that would have put them
both in danger if they’d known. The life of the son of the mayor is different. Filled with so
many secrets, Jisung and Changbin - having come from similar backgrounds - are used to it.
Minho isn’t.
“Okay,” Jisung says at last. “So. To summarise. My boyfriend is in love with two people. He
knows a secret you’re hiding and it’s making him upset and you’re getting married
tomorrow.”
“You forgot the part where he loves you and he needs you,” Chan points out tiredly. “Don’t
think of what might have been. There’s no way he would ever be happy with me, no one will
be happy with me.”
“Not so long as you keep doing whatever your father tells you, no,” Jisung says, a little jab.
Chan sighs. “The point is, regardless of what we’re feeling, he has absolutely no chance in
hell with me and he knows it. Neither of us want each other. He wants you and I’m fucked
but I’d rather you guys were happy. I’d do anything to make that happen.”
Jisung doesn’t answer. He’s busy inhaling from the blunt. He takes about three drags before
Chan finally reaches over and takes it off him. Smoke is starting to fog the kitchen air and
neither of them care, they’re a little beyond caring at this point.
“I need time,” Jisung finally says. “That’s what I told him when I left. I said I need time
and...it’s been two months and I still need time.”
Chan doesn’t answer. He doesn’t feel like he has the right to either. He’s said all he can
without revealing the reason why Minho was crying. All in all, he’s given all he has to give.
They spend a few minutes sitting there in silence. Both smoking the blunt down to its last
dregs. Chan’s mind is fuzzy, a comforting cloud of bliss where he’s too drunk and too stoned
to really feel much. He can’t imagine Jisung is any different, given how he’s swaying in his
seat.
“Coming to the wedding tomorrow?” Chan asks.
It takes a moment for the question to even register but when it does, Jisung nods. “If you
want me there.”
“I do.”
“Then I’ll be there,” Jisung promises, wavering a little as he pushes himself up to stand. He
takes the bag of weed with him and stumbles towards the living room.
Chan takes what’s left of the whiskey and follows him. They both sit on opposite ends of the
couch, their minds fuzzy and the room spinning even as Jisung rolls another blunt.
“Forgive me?” Chan asks, half drunk, half serious.
Jisung lights the blunt. He takes his time smoking and holding the weed in his lungs before
he hands it out to Chan.
“Give me time,” he says and the two spend the rest of their night in stoned, drunk but
comfortable silence.
37th Kill
The media says that violent video games and movies desensitise us to the gruesome reality of
death but the truth is, it’s all bullshit. Video games, movies, books, nothing prepares you for
the feeling of a life being taken at your hands. The cold, dead, often horrified stare of the
corpses in your arms.
I had long been desensitised by this point and maybe if I had any hope of sanity, I’d have
suffered from nightmares. But I didn’t. I slept like a baby every night and it was because the
blackouts still felt disconnected.
Another me. A me I had to feed with death and bodies.
The warehouse was starting to really smell by this point. Maybe I should have buried them
but I didn’t want to. Because like a hoarder, there is something satisfying about seeing them
there. My treasures, my bodies.
“Fuck me, Hyunjin,” Felix blurts when he sees Hyunjin and Jeongin arriving at the chapel.
They’d all had to fight their way through the vultures outside. Paparazzi, every media in
South Korea blocking the entrance, clambering to watch what they dubbed the ‘wedding of
the century’.
It was like a red carpet entrance of glamorous gowns, priceless suits, smarmy smiles and a
list of elite names and Hyunjin had walked right in, hand in hand with Jeongin, wearing a silk
black shirt, black belt and leather pants with shiny black lace-up boots and red highlights in
his jet black hair. Jeongin at least was a little more reserved, dressed in an acceptable three
piece navy blue suit - not unlike many others who had come in.
They meet Felix, Seungmin and Minho at the entrance and the first thing out of Felix’s mouth
is pure astonishment.
“No,” Hyunjin corrects with a nod to Jeongin. “Fuck him, not you.”
“You are shameless, Hyunjin,” Seungmin comments. The smirk on his face gives him away.
Were it up to someone like Chan’s father or Kaeun herself, the lot of them would not have
been able to come to the wedding. It’s an event full of the most elite of the elite, not paupers
who work in a restaurant - but that had been one of Chan’s conditions and he’d stuck
adamantly to it.
He’d also convinced his father that his merry band of not-straight restaurant workers would
help boost his image as an accepting and open minded future president - which he needed to
be if he wanted the votes.
Minho is carefully placed between Seungmin and Felix and it’s not an accident either. When
Jeongin had heard that Minho was actually coming to this thing, he’d asked if he’d be okay
and the answer from Seungmin was a resounding: “No, but I’ll be there to make sure he
doesn’t get too wasted.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most pretentious event of the century,” Felix
comments dryly, his arm around Minho’s back as he watches the gowns and suits walk into
the chapel as though they were chosen by the divine themselves. There’s an air about them, a
haughtiness. They’ll never see anyone past their own nose and this was the world Chan,
Changbin and Jisung had been born into.
In a way, it was also the world Jeongin had been born into - but never participated because
he’d been shut away with his mother.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Minho says as he adjusts his tie. “They better be selling damn
good piss.”
A woman nearby shoots him a scandalous look and he fires back a sultry grin. Seungmin
looks over just in time to see Minho licking his lips until the woman finally looks away, pink
faced and embarrassed.
“Minho, I swear to god, can you just behave yourself just once during weddings?” Seungmin
groans, practically dragging Minho into the chapel as Felix, Jeongin and Hyunjin follow
behind.
“Last time we were at a wedding, you proposed to me,” Minho reminds him. “I’m depressed
and I wanna get drunk and go home to my cats. Sue me.”
Felix and Jeongin exchange wary glances.
“This is gonna be fun,” Felix mutters.
Jeongin just smiles, he can feel Hyunjin’s arm around his waist as they work through the
crowds. He never lets go.
As the hall fills, way in the backrooms, Chan is half asleep in his dressing room. He sits,
slumped over a chair as Changbin is leaning over him, trying to dab concealer over the lovely
bruise Jisung left around his nose.
On the other side of the room, Jisung is passed out on the couch. It had been Changbin’s job
to dress them both and drag their semi-conscious asses to the chapel - a task that had been
anything but easy with Chan throwing up the whole way.
“Fucks sake,” Changbin mutters as he presses hard enough to make Chan whine. “The fuck
were you two thinking? Getting stoned and drunk before today?”
“Please, quiet time now,” Chan begs, his hand coming up to cradle his head. “Volume down.”
“Fucking hell,” Changbin hisses. He covers up the last of the bruise and chucks the cotton
bud in the bin. “I should thank you both for at least getting dressed. The next time you both
get drunk and stoned, could you at least invite me so I don’t have to be the sucker cleaning
you both up?”
He gets nothing but a snore from the couch. Jisung rolls over, his arms tight around a cushion
as he sleeps, mouth slightly ajar, long lashes kissing his cheeks and hair askew. Chan isn’t
much better, he’s on the verge of passing out too.
Changbin hands Chan a tall glass of water and painkillers. He helps him take them before
walking over to the couch to help Jisung. Chan groans, his hands tenderly covering his ears
as he listens to Changbin trying to convince a sleepy and whiny Jisung to take the pills and
water.
In the strangest way, there’s something comforting about this. The three of them together in a
room, no one else to bother them (or see them in such a state) and he feels better having
talked to Jisung. It had taken all night but they’d talked, they’d emptied the whiskey bottle,
they’d cleared out two blunts and they’d ended up passed out on the couch. When Chan woke
up, Jisung was curled into him, both arms and legs around him like a teddy bear and it was
just familiar.
God knows it is not the first time he’s ever woken up to Jisung hugging him in his sleep.
That’s when Changbin found them and had to drag both their sorry asses to the shower, then
to the chapel.
Rubbing his face, Chan turns in his seat to watch Jisung finishing the glass of water. He looks
like shit, probably feels like shit too but he’s here. They’re three again and it feels like the
world could be falling apart but Chan would feel okay as long as Changbin and Jisung were
there with him.
Changbin looks tired. He turns to Chan and shakes his head.
“It’s almost time, bro. We gotta get you to the altar.”
On the couch, Jisung finishes his glass and sets it down. He runs a hand through his hair and
looks at Chan. “Any last words?”
Nothing comes to mind. Nothing except the only thing he thinks when he looks at them both.
“I love you guys,” Chan mumbles, a little too drunk and stoned to really stop himself.
Changbin blanches. “Oh fuck man, I’m too sober for confessions.”
It’s Jisung who starts crying, sniffling from the couch where he opens his arms. “I love you
too man!”
“No, no, no crying, no hugging, I just fixed your makeup!” Changbin insists, watching
helplessly as Chan practically falls off his seat and stumbles to the couch. He watches Chan
sink into Jisung’s arms, half hanging off the couch and holding him tight as Jisung sniffles
into his shoulder.
Then they both hold out an arm for Changbin who takes one massive step back.
“No,” Changbin says, trying and failing to sound firm. “No, fuck you both, I’m not joining
this-”
Chan somehow manages to get a grip on Changbin’s shirt. He drags him in and when he’s
close enough, Jisung’s arm locks around Changbin’s back, preventing any attempt at escape.
It must be a sight. It’s certainly loud. The way Changbin screeches when both Jisung and
Chan try drunkenly pressing kisses to his head until he agrees to hug them as they wanted. A
huddle of three grown men on one couch. It’s just a blessing no one walks in to see it.
“I love you guys,” Chan tells them over and over again. “I love you, I love you, I love you
guys.”
“Okay, seriously, we’re gonna be late,” Changbin huffs, pulling away from them at last.
He grabs Chan first, hauling him to his feet and checking over his makeup to ensure the
bruise is hidden. Then he grabs Jisung and uses a handkerchief to clean his face of any trace
of tears.
“Let’s get through this,” he tells them. “Okay? We can get drunk later.”
Chan manages to get them both into one more group hug before they’re manhandled out the
door.
Once everyone is seated and the ceremony begins, the hall is blasted with the sound of the
organ as Kaeun walks down the aisle. Next to Jeongin, Felix mutters ‘witch’ under his breath
as she passes with her father.
There’s a rather odd look on her face when her father stiffly passes her over to Chan. Almost
satisfied with herself and of course to anyone who didn’t really know Chan, they’d think that
Kaeun had landed the goldmine. Son of the possible future president of South Korea. One of
the richest and most influential families and - if one paid attention to the media alone - Chan
was incredibly easy on the eyes with a primarily female following of girls who always
wanted his attention.
It also helped that he was a media darling and always presented himself well in front of the
camera.
Sitting in the third row, a safe distance from Chan’s father, Jeongin sits between Felix and
Hyunjin to watch the ceremony.
All in all, it’s a bunch of vows, the occasional camera snap from the official photographer in
the front row. The most interesting part is when Jisung, standing in his row behind Chan as
groomsman, looks like he’s about to vomit when Chan says his vows about staying faithful
and loyal to his wife.
Halfway through, Hyunjin gets bored and starts running his hand up and down Jeongin’s leg.
His fingers dabble, playing gently with the knee until Jeongin has to take his hand in his own
and lace their fingers to get him to stop.
When at last they reach that last part. The bit where the groom can kiss the bride and out of
the corner of his eye, Jeongin spots Minho looking away. He sees Jisung and Changbin doing
the same. Even Felix casts his eyes down but Jeongin watches.
He watches Chan lean in, his fingers just barely gracing Kaeun’s chin as he pulls her in for a
kiss.
Jeongin had once heard it described as the ‘church kiss’. A specific kind of kiss, not a quick
peck but also not a vulgar display of tongues in the house of god. The sweet in between,
proper, appropriate for a crowd of hundreds witnessing the matrimonial union.
Chan plays his role to perfection. The way he holds her, the way he kisses her, tilts his head
just so and closes his eyes, everything is perfect. It’s terrifying because no one knows better
than his own friends how much he’d rather kiss a dead horse than kiss her and yet no one
would ever believe it, just looking at this.
He’s a terrifying natural at faking it.
The organ blasts and Jeongin catches the way Jisung winces and covers his ears before
Changbin puts his hands back down for him. The bride and groom head back down the aisle
as the guests stand to see them out. It’s a grand and overblown ceremony but as far as most of
them are concerned, the hard part is over.
62nd Kill
I have a question for you, Bang Chan.

Do you think of yourself as multiple people? I do. I’ve always thought of myself as split in
two, one is the Chief of Police, the other is a killer.
The lies, the secrets, they pile up and how do you deal with that?
Colleagues, friends thought for years that Yuki was my niece. Sometimes they’d see me out
with her and I’d tell them I was looking after her for my sister - my sister whom I haven’t
spoken to in years but they don’t know that. So many lies, Mr Bang, they pile up and I hope
you keep track of them because I didn’t.
When I slipped, when someone became suspicious...back to my warehouse I go.
The wedding reception is held in the grand hall adjacent to the chapel. The entire hall is
decked out in white with gold streamers. Circular tables, meant to sit a maximum of six, are
spread across the hall with a large space in the middle for dancing. The main table sits right at
the head of the room, in front of the massive wide windows that lead to the gardens just
outside.
To Seungmin, the view brings back more than a few painful memories.
This is the easy part. The part where they get to sit down, mingle and eat. At the head table,
Chan sits next to Kaeun and looks down the table to where Jisung and Changbin are sitting.
They’re not allowed to be near him but since they are groomsmen, they do belong at the table
- that alone is comfort enough.
“You’re drunk,” Kaeun mutters quietly, pausing only to smile at the camera when it’s pointed
at her.
“I’m hungover, there’s a difference,” Chan retorts, stopping to smile as well. “Besides, I
never promised I’d turn up to this sober. In fact, it would have gone really badly if I’d come
to this thing sober.”
“Well thank god you weren’t fucking me drunk,” Kaeun chirps, sugar sweet as she bats her
eyelashes at him.
Chan has to hold back a glare. Too many cameras, too many people. He’d rather take that
memory and bury it so deep archeologists wouldn’t even find it. His hand reaches under the
table and finds her knee where he squeezes hard enough to bruise. It’s a little amusing to
watch her trying to keep a smile on her face when she’s trying to pull her knee away from
him.
“Behave, Kaeun,” he warns under his breath.
The drinking and dining flows easily. Guests manage to seat themselves comfortably enough
and Chan turns to Kaeun’s father, who is seated on his other side. He leans over and fills a
drink for him.
“Thank you,” he says.
“I should be thanking you,” Chan tells him, charming smile on full blast as he sets the
champagne bottle down and lifts his own glass in a silent toast. “You’ve made me the
happiest man in existence,” he lies through his teeth.
The man smiles. “Enjoy my daughter.”
Chan has to swallow down an almost repulsive reaction to such a statement and instead
engages the man in business talk. It’s easier that way.
Eventually the chatter is silenced in favour of speeches. Hyunjin leans back in his chair,
clearly bored as Chan’s father goes on and on about loyalty, trust, duty and respect. Oh and
maybe a small congratulations to the married couple and the highest hopes he has for his son.
Jeongin feels something on his leg and jolts. Next to him, Felix looks at him curiously but
quickly turns his attention back to the speeches. Jeongin bites his lips, presses his knees
together and under the tablecloth, he can feel Hyunjin’s hand sliding up his thigh.
In such a crowded hall, very few notice the interaction. Much less where Hyunjin’s hand is.
Fingers start to press gently at his crotch and Jeongin fights to keep the poker face. Minho
glances at him once, Seungmin shoots a small warning glare at Hyunjin which is largely
ignored.
Hyunjin is a master at poker faces. His eyes are on the future president, he looks as though
he’s paying attention when in reality he’s parting Jeongin’s legs and rubbing at the growing
semi.
Jeongin’s breath comes out slow, silent, he’s trying his hardest to control himself as he
reaches under the table and grabs Hyunjin’s wrist. Not that it helps much, Hyunjin just ends
up rubbing harder.
His eyes flutter, Jeongin’s lips part and he tries to keep his breathing low, controlled but it’s
incredibly difficult. Maybe it’s because it’s such a public area but he’s unbelievably turned
on, it’s hard to think straight and the less reserved part of his mind wants to open his belt and
slip Hyunjin’s hand inside already. This friction, this rubbing against his pants is torturous,
not enough and at once, too much.
There’s nowhere to run, no excuse he can think of to go. Heady need builds and he has to bite
his tongue to stop a moan escaping.
Then when it looks like Mayor Bang is reaching the end of his speech, Hyunjin’s hand grows
more demanding. Pressing harder, faster. Jeongin ducks his head, a small gasp lost in his
collar as he finds his hips moving desperately towards Hyunjin’s hand. By now, Felix, Minho
and Seungmin are pointedly ignoring them both.
The speech concludes and Jeongin’s moan is lost in the applause that follows. His legs shake,
a warm patch spreading in his trousers as he comes at last, his hand still tight on Hyunjin’s
wrist.
Leaning forward, Jeongin catches his breath and finally manages to slap Hyunjin’s hand
away.
“Asshole,” he hisses.
Hyunjin just shoots him a grin and leans back in his chair, seemingly innocent.
Near the end of the speeches, it’s Chan’s turn. The hall watches, suddenly attentive as he
stands and addresses them all. At first it’s standard, he says everything on the script. Thank
you for coming, a blessing to his beautiful wife and the luck he has for finding her.
But then his eyes find the table with his staff. He looks at Seungmin, Hyunjin, Jeongin, Felix
and Minho and his tone changes. Just slightly, subtle. Most would miss it but no one from
God’s Menu does.
Even Jeongin doesn’t realise how attune he is to the subtle changes of Chan’s tone until he
realises this part of the speech is directed at them.
“For my part,” he says. “My strength comes from the people I love. The people I would die
to protect and at the end of the day, that is what I define as the reason for living. Not the
material wealth, not the status of your person, the people around you.”
Minho’s eyes flick to Jisung at the end of the table and Jisung isn’t watching Chan like
everyone else. He’s watching him. He can’t be read but he’s watching him.
“In whatever form it comes to you, never ignore it. Love those in your life and hold them
tight because one day, you won’t be able to.”
He finishes up with a light sentiment towards Kaeun, a blatant lie but it’s taken positively.
People clap for him when his speech ends and even his father looks convinced.
Seungmin glances at Minho to see the other is biting his lip, his eyes down on his lap - a
conscious habit he has when he’s trying not to cry. Felix is clapping along but his eyes are set
on Chan, concern and worry clear on his face.
Then the air clears, the music begins and Chan has to get up from the table with Kaeun to
start the first dance. They’re the picture perfect couple, exactly what the tabloids wanted and
regardless of what they actually feel, they play their roles perfectly. Smiles, loving gazes,
gentle touches, it’s like it’s rehearsed.
Jeongin looks around before quietly excusing himself to head to the bathroom and clean the
problem Hyunjin made in his pants. There’s a smile on Hyunjin’s face, self-satisfied and
Felix smacks his arm.
Changbin and Jisung approach the group, free to do so now that people are permitted to stand
and mingle. Changbin reaches for Felix’s hand and grins. “Shall we dance?”
“What...here?” Felix balks. “In front of everyone?”
“Mayor Bang’s entire image as the new president is as a tolerant and open minded one,”
Changbin reminds him. “It looks good for the cameras and it scandalises the crowd - win,
win. Come dance with me, Lix.”
There’s a big, wide smile on Felix’s face as he lets Changbin take him away.
Left between Jisung and Minho, Seungmin clears his throat and mutters something about
finding a drink, he takes Hyunjin’s arm and drags him along. When they’re gone, Minho
glances at Jisung.
Both of them look tired. Perhaps Jisung even more so because he’s actually hungover on top
of that. Still, when Jisung holds out his hand, Minho gently takes it and lets him walk him out
onto the dance floor.
Maybe it’s because they’re too tired to care or maybe it’s because they both need it without
explicitly saying so but although he knows they’re being watched, Minho can’t find it in
himself to care when Jisung wraps one secure arm around his waist and uses his other to hold
his hand.
Together they sway and Minho’s eyes are helplessly watching Jisung’s face. He looks so tired
but still, even now, still so handsome. Gentle, even after having his heart broken, he’s still so
gentle.
A flash of a camera, someone is taking a picture - hopefully to promote Mayor Bang’s

spectacular open mindedness, even at his son’s wedding. Jisung closes his eyes and leans in
until his forehead touches Minho’s. Minho can hear the stuttered sigh, pure relief and he feels
the same. He’d missed him so much.
“Ji-”
“Shhh,” Jisung hushes, his hand dropping from Minho’s so it can wrap around his waist too.
Minho’s arms wrap around Jisung’s shoulders until they’re holding each other and swaying.
They’re not even paying attention to the music, only the heat of each other, their breathing,
the feel of each other again.
Jisung tucks his face in Minho’s shoulder, he keeps his eyes closed and he can hear the
whispering. The rushed whispers from people who aren’t used to seeing people like them.
Fuck them all.
“Give me time,” Jisung whispers in Minho’s ear. “I know it’s been too long already, just wait
a little longer. I need time.”
Minho sniffles, his face hidden in Jisung’s collar. His arms tighten around him and Jisung can
feel him nod.
“All the time you need.”
Neither pull away from each other. Not even when the song ends and another starts, they stay
there, swaying in their own world,
72nd Kill
My wife got sick around this time and it took me a long time to figure out why.
I didn’t care of course, I had another life in Seoul and as soon as the dinner was over, I
dropped her off home and didn’t think twice about it. Then I got the call that she was in the
hospital and that’s when I told you.
Because I knew Jeongin, dutiful son that he is, would visit her.
He’d be with her until her dying breath regardless of what she’d done to him.
Tell me, what did she do to earn such loyalty from him? I asked my victims the same thing but
none of them could tell me, despite all of them being mothers. Single mothers. Perhaps I
should have taken their children too.
It hits somewhere after the third song. An attack so strong it feels like someone hit him
between the eyes.
Chan almost drops Kaeun when the room spins, his vision swims for a few precious seconds.
Long enough for her to notice something wrong. They stop dancing for just a moment as
Chan tries to blink his way through it.
“Chan?” Kaeun asks, frowning as she watches him struggle for a moment.
“I just…” Chan winces, the pain hits then and it’s excruciating and quick. Quick stabs at first,
then full on throbbing. His stomach lurches and he hisses as he pulls away from her. “Shit.”
Kaeun follows him off the dance floor and Chan is walking blind. He can’t see a thing,
everything is suddenly too bright. Overexposed. He walks into a table and automatically
apologises, his eyes still trying to blink the sudden headache away.
He feels an arm around his waist, safely pulling him away from the table and towards
somewhere quieter. When he looks up to see Kaeun, he almost rips himself out but he can’t
see where he’s going.
“Bathroom,” he manages to tell her when his stomach lurches again. “Bathroom.”
“This is your fault for drinking,” Kaeun huffs but she takes his hand to lead him.
It’s difficult with so many cameras, so many eyes on them. Chan can barely see as he walks
after her, he nods to blurry strangers who offer him their congratulations, he says thank you
but he feels like his head is splitting open. Kaeun takes the lead, gently leading him through
the crowd and Chan can trust at least that she’s played this game enough times to know that
everything has to look normal.
No one can know Chan is actually in pain.
A flash of a camera goes off and Chan almost screams at the pain the sudden light brings.
Sound is starting to blur now, too much. Too much, too many people, too much noise. He’s
starting to sweat and all he wants to do is curl up in a dark room and hide but he has to keep
smiling, keep his eyes open without actually seeing anything. Keep up appearances, he is
trained for this.
It helps that Kaeun is dealing with the bulk of the people coming towards them.
He knows they’ve reached the hallways when the noise starts to die down. Chan’s hand is
clammy in Kaeun’s grip but he follows until they finally reach one of the bathrooms.
“I’ll join you after a minute,” Chan promises as he stumbles in and heads towards the basin.
“Just give me a second.”
“Fine,” Kaeun sighs. “Need some painkillers?”
Chan shakes his head and keeps his eyes closed. His head is ducked and he’s just trying to
breathe through it.
“I’ll be alright, Kaeun, really, just give me a second,” he says.
It takes her a moment longer, maybe out of concern, perhaps annoyance, he can’t see. But
when she leaves, he hears the door close after her.
Chan tries to steady his breathing. The pain in his head is throbbing, he doesn’t know if he’s
going to throw up or not but it feels like he just might. His hands shake, fumbling blindly as
he feels for the tap and tries washing cold water over his face.
That’s when he feels a presence behind him.
“Hyung?”
Chan almost falls over in surprise. He turns around but he can only see a blur coming towards
him. A hand grabs his arm before he can fall and he recognises Jeongin’s voice.
“Innie?” he frowns. “What are you doing here?”

“I was cleaning my...uh...nevermind, are you okay?” Jeongin asks.
Chan must look like shit because Jeongin’s arm is around him, holding him up. Another throb
makes him grimace in pain and that’s when Jeongin reaches over to turn the lights off.
“Fuck, thank you,” Chan sighs in relief. “Lock the door.”
Jeongin leans over to do so before he turns his attention back to Chan. The bathroom isn’t
completely pitch dark, there’s still a window but it’s dark enough to ease the pain in Chan’s
head for now.
“I need to sit,” Chan says.
Jeongin’s arm is strong around him, he helps Chan sink down to the floor and props his back
up against the wall.
“Tell me what you need,” Jeongin says, crouching in front of him. “Do you have pills?”
“Yeah, I carry them on me,” Chan grimaces as another wave of pain hits him. He reaches his
hands for his shirt but they’re shaking so hard, he struggles with the buttons for a moment
before Jeongin’s hands stop him.
“I’ll get them,” Jeongin tells him. “There’s a water dispenser with plastic cups down the hall,
I’ll get you one.”
Chan listens to him get up. The door opens and for a few moments, there’s silence. Chan tries
to open his eyes but just like before, all he sees is a blur of dark with the occasional dim light.
He closes them again when he hears Jeongin return. The door closes behind him and a click
of the lock follows.
Then Jeongin is in front of him.
“Okay,” he whispers, his hands feeling Chan’s suit. “Which pocket?”
“Inside pocket on the left side,” Chan tells him.
Jeongin opens his suit and Chan can feel his hand shifting around inside before he pulls out a
tiny pill bottle.
Then he stops and Chan suddenly realises why.
Jeongin read the label.
“...hyung.”
“Innie,” Chan says, his hand coming out to rest gently on Jeongin’s. “Two pills.”
Jeongin shakes two out and places them in Chan’s outstretched palm. He follows with the
styrofoam cup of water and when Chan has drank all the water, he puts the pills back in
Chan’s pocket.
Silence follows. Chan can’t open his eyes for fear of making it worse and he knows Jeongin
doesn’t know what to say. What is there to say? Other than the fact that Jeongin now knows
that Minho knows.
For Jeongin, it suddenly makes sense. The fight he’d heard between Chan and Minho, the
reason why Minho disappeared. Chan’s speech, everything. Like a picture finally coming into
focus, everything makes sense.
The day of the fight, Minho had a mission. It hadn’t been long since they’d come back from
Hawaii, the group was still feeling somewhat refreshed even as the restaurant resumed as
normal. Minho had walked into the kitchen on the pretense of checking everything - in
reality, he was on his way to confront Chan.
Felix looks up from where he’s washing the dishes, he nods and Minho spots Seungmin
heading into the freezer. Jeongin looks up, a slightly tired smile on his face.
“I could do with another holiday,” he says.
Minho laughs and pats his shoulder. “Me too, Innie.”
He heads past them and out the back door. The pill box is burning in his pocket and he can
feel himself shaking before he even reaches Chan’s office. He hadn’t meant to find them,
Chan had left them in the car after they visited his mother and Minho had found them.
He meant to give them back before he read the label. Then he had to research what the pills
were for. Then he got angry.
He doesn’t even knock, he pushes Chan’s office door open and slams it shut behind him.
Chan jumps, visibly surprised as Minho takes the pill box out of his pocket and slams it on
the desk.
Chan looks at them and he pales.
“Oh shit.”
“How long?” Minho seethes. Chan’s reaction is just confirmation of what he’s already
suspected.
“Minho-”
“How long?!” Minho shouts.
Chan rises from his desk and Minho takes a step back. He’s never been so angry. He’s
shaking so hard, he can’t control himself but he knows he doesn’t want to be anywhere near
Chan in this moment. “How long have you known about this Chan, and I swear to god if you
lie-”
“Six months.”
Minho lets that sink in, he stares at Chan in disbelief. He’d kept this from them for six
months?
“Does anyone else know?”
“Minho don’t-”
“Don’t bullshit me Chan, does anyone else know?!” Minho screeches.
Chan shakes his head. It’s clear by the look on his face that he has no intention of telling
anyone either. It hits Minho all at once what this means. Every headache, every time he said
it was cluster migraines, every time he excuses himself quietly for a few seconds, this is why.
The truth of it is so horrible, so blinding that Minho honestly can’t breathe for a few seconds.
“You’re dying,” he breathes. He didn’t even want to say it aloud but he has to. To make it
real, he has to.
When Chan doesn’t say he isn’t, when he doesn’t say anything to the contrary, that’s how
Minho knows this is real.
“You need to tell someone.”
“No.”
“Chris, you need to tell someone!”
“No!”
Minho stares in disbelief, Chan is shaking his head, he’s glaring, he’s so adamant about this.
Minho knows what stubbornness looks like and this is the peak of it, this is Chan putting his
foot down for reasons that only make sense to him.
“I can’t,” Chan tells him. “There’s still things to do. My father-”
“Fuck your father, for fucks sake, Chris!” Minho screams and he can’t repress the urge to
throw something at him.
“There’s things to do,” Chan powers through. “There’s things I need to do. Things everyone
needs to do and no one will do them if they knew the truth.”
Minho shakes his head. “But I know the truth.”

“Yeah,” Chan says, a grave tone in his voice. “And I’m telling you...begging you
actually...don’t tell anyone.”
“What?” Minho breathes, he can feel tears springing to his eyes, his entire body is shaking,
the world is starting to spin but all he can see is Chan in front of him. “So what...you’re just
gonna….you’re just gonna keep going until you…and I’ll be the only person who knows
why, is that what you’re saying?”
Chan isn’t much of a talker. When he doesn’t have to, he’ll stay quiet but Minho finds
himself wishing that Chan would just talk. Tell him everything. Tell him that it’s not true, tell
him something. Not condemn him to the fact that he is the only person who knows the truth
about him. The horrible, terrible truth that he is dying and he’s not telling anyone.
Minho shakes his head, he feels tears slip down his cheeks as he backs up. “The others will
notice eventually. They’ll ask me and what do you want me to say?”
Chan doesn’t reply. He won’t say anything. He just stares at Minho and Minho can’t stand
those pleading eyes.
“I can’t keep making excuses for you, Chan.”
Chan steps forward at last. “I’m not asking you to.”
“You are!” Minho screams and that’s when the anger snaps. The anger that’s been brewing all
this time. How dare he, how dare he keep a secret like this and expect Minho to do the same.
How fucking dare he do this to him. To all of them.
He grabs the nearest thing to him, a folder and throws it across the room to stop Chan coming
anywhere near him.
“I’m not!” Chan is saying his hands shielding himself as Minho goes insane. Minho throws
everything his hands find and all Chan can do is block with his hands.
Somehow he manages to approach Minho. He grabs Minho’s arms to make him stop
throwing things and backs them up until Minho’s back hits the wall.
“Stop, stop, Minho, stop!” Chan begs.
Minho is breathing hard, he’s crying and Chan can’t stand the sight but he won’t let go. His
hands are tight like a vice, one around each of Minho’s arms to stop him. For a moment they
just stand there, chest to chest, breathing hard, Chan searching Minho’s eyes and Minho
trying like hell not to break down then and there.
Then Minho’s voice breaks when he speaks. “You’re really asking me to watch you do this?”
Chan doesn’t have anything to say. He can’t say anything. Because that’s exactly what he’s
asking Minho to do.
When he lets go of Minho’s hands, Minho runs. He leaves the office in tears and Chan is left
there shaking. On his desk, the pill box is forgotten and somehow he eventually manages to
clean the office up and sit himself back down at his desk with a very heavy sigh.
That’s when Jeongin knocks on the door and comes in with receipts, no indication he’d
partially overheard the biggest secret Chan was keeping.
98th Kill
A perfect 100. I was almost there.
I’d been hearing the voice in my head telling me for years to do this. To finish it all. To make
my perfect 100 and I couldn’t think of two better suited people to be my crowning jewels. My
finishing pieces.
I didn’t count on Hwang Hyunjin firing out my tyres and fucking everything up for me but I
get the feeling you’re about to tell me that my son has taken over where I failed. That’s why I
haven’t heard anything about Yuki, isn’t it? You’re going to pin her death on me when
actually she wasn’t mine at all.
I hope you know what you’re doing with him, Bang Chan. I hope you realise there is no cure
for what he’s going through and when he wakes up to his black outs - and he will - he’ll find
the urge a lot harder to silence.
Yuki and Jeongin, could have been the perfect 99 and 100. But I find some poetic justice in
Jeongin becoming me.
Maybe you’ll keep your word and I’ll rot in prison. Maybe you won’t and I’ll die the moment
I’m brought to prison. Just know that my life isn’t the only one in your hands, Chan.
Do you really know what you’re doing with him? Do you really think you can control him?
Heal him?
If you let me live, I look forward to finding out what my son will become.
My warehouse is waiting for him.
Regards,
Yang Jeongil
Chapter End Notes

Cat's out of the bag! Sort of.
There were so many interesting reactions last chapter for both Jeongin and Minho!
Some of you defending Innie, others confused about it and then on the Minho
spectrum...yeah I left clues all over the story about what's going on with Chan so this is
basically just a culmination of it.
BUT, for now only two people know and there's still more to come.
If anyone needs me, I'll be hiding from all your comments and reactions, I honestly don't
know what to expect but if I get a bunch of people calling me every name under the sun,
I will not be surprised.
Even if you hate me, I love you all and wish me luck because the chapter that comes
after this one is not going to be easy to write XD
XXII: Alea Lacta Est
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
Ế
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
The headboard slams into the wall, creating small dents and marks in what was once a
pristine paint job. Anyone within hearing distance of the bedroom would have heard every
single curse, every word, every plea.
Kim Hongjoong, despite being brought up to be a well mannered member of the rich society
he’d been (unfortunate enough to be) born into, was anything but. He didn’t like classical
music, he preferred hard rock. He hated galas and garden parties, he preferred raves. He
didn’t drink wine, he drank beer and he didn’t dress in suits unless he absolutely had to.
Find him on a good day to see him strutting around his university dressed in ripped jeans,
tight vests, leather jackets, painted nails and dark eyeliner. Topped with enough chains and
silver to hear him from miles away.
He buries his face in the pillow and groans when he feels a hand pushing his face down the
way he likes. Asphyxiation during sex is a tricky thing and in the long, long list of people
he’s ever fucked around in bed with, there have only been two who ever got it right.
“There, there, there, fuuuckkk…” he groans into the pillow, his moans lost as air is cut off
and he spasms.
He’s held down, he loves it. His body is well out of his control and all he can feel is powerful
spasms shooting through every single nerve ending. The lack of air takes him somewhere
else, for just a brief moment. That wonderful, dark place where he feels weightless,
vulnerable in the best way and so fucking good.
Then he comes crashing down, he turns his head and air rushes back into his lungs. All
energy saps out of him and he can still feel himself leaking on the sheets, well and truly
fucked with a blissed out look on his face as blurry sight catches his companion finally
falling into the space next to him with gasping breaths.
For a few minutes, neither of them can talk. Heavy breathing fills the air instead but when
Hongjoong can finally manage words, he reaches a lazy hand out and taps the chest of his
companion.
“I thought honeymoons were meant to be spent fucking your bride unconscious,” he teases.
Next to him, Chan winces at the thought of his wife and shakes his head. “I’d rather fuck a
lawnmower.”
Hongjoong laughs, tired little chuckles and his hand plays with the muscle he can feel on
Chan’s arm. It’s uncomfortable on his stomach, lying in sweat and other bodily fluids but he
just can’t muster the strength or will to get up just yet.
“I did make a promise I’d stop fucking around though,” Chan adds after a moment of
thinking it through. “Consider this a goodbye fuck.”
“Well it was a good one,” Hongjoong grins.
He rests his head on his arm and watches Chan curiously. It had been awhile since Chan had
called him for this. They’re the very definition of casual fuck buddies and it suits Hongjoong
just fine. He’s not stupid enough to want any more than that from Chan, he knows a ticking
time bomb when he’s looking at one.
Chan eventually evens his breathing out, he stares at the ceiling and Hongjoong can see the
well oiled cogs of his brain whirring at full speed. He dare not ask what’s going on in there,
he knows better.
“How’s school?” Chan eventually asks.
Hongjoong chuckles into his arm. “You mean the university my father paid to say I’m
passing with flying colours? What’s the point in even turning up?”
“What’s he got you studying?” Chan asks and Hongjoong picks up on it now. Maybe he’s
asking out of genuine curiosity but there’s a larger part that’s asking because he needs a
distraction from his own head.
Hongjoong is only too happy to oblige.
“Business,” he answers, rolling onto his back at last to look up at the ceiling. “Some extra
minors consisting of accounting, mathematics, politics, honestly Chan, it’s like he’s going to
stick me in an office and work me til the day I die.”
“Maybe he will,” Chan shrugs. “Fathers are weird like that. Especially in our world. They
have plans.”
“Well fuck whatever my father has in mind for me,” Hongjoong snorts. “Thanks for making
him Chief of Police, by the way. Now he’s more insufferable than ever. Going on about
putting me into the academy, training me to become him. I’d rather jump off a bridge.”
Chan glances at him. He watches as Hongjoong sits up and leans over to grab a pack of
cigarettes from the bedside table. The two of them wriggle up until they’re sitting with their
backs to the headboard and when Hongjoong has finally lit one between his lips, he relaxes a
little more.
Chan holds out his hand. “Give it here.”
“You don’t smoke,” Hongjoong frowns.
Chan simply shrugs and Hongjoong, though confused, passes it over. He watches the way
Chan inhales, the way he doesn’t cough and it gives away that he has been doing this for a
while.
Immediately Hongjoong knows what it means.
“You’re stressed,” he says. Not a question or a guess, a statement.

Chan hands the cigarette back to him and watches his smoke fade in the air. “I’m always
stressed.”
“Yeah but this time you’re really stressed,” Hongjoong points out. A moment of somewhat
uncomfortable silence passes before he takes a drag and hands the cigarette back to Chan.
It takes a moment, but eventually Chan just shakes his head and stares up at the ceiling. “You
should go to the academy.”
Hongjoong’s head whips so fast to stare at Chan incredulously. “What?” he chokes. “I’ll die
there!”
Chan shakes his head and Hongjoong’s about to tell him he’s being ridiculous but the look on
Chan’s face gives him pause. He’s actually being serious.
Hongjoong waits for him to explain himself but when no explanation comes, he leans over
and takes the cigarette off Chan. “You want me to go into training to be a police officer?” he
asks. “Me? I’m gay, I have blue hair, I paint my nails, I’m not strong at all-”
“You’ll get stronger,” Chan tells him. “And they’ll make you dye your hair but a person like
you is good in a place like that. Needed, even,”
Hongjoong frowns. Chan has never advocated for something like this before. If he didn’t
know him so well, he’d think he’d finally gone insane. But he does know Chan and he knows
that Chan’s mind is always whirring. Always thinking beyond the scope of the next week.
The man plans and he plans meticulously.
“You want me in the police academy?” Hongjoong asks, his voice quiet as he puts the
cigarette out and watches Chan properly. “Tell me why.”
Chan makes a face he recognises. Hongjoong has to wonder how many plans, how many
factors Chan thinks of on a daily basis. It’s no wonder he’s a master of chess, he spends every
single day strategizing. Thinking of every possible outcome and ways to get around them.
The one flaw of Chan’s way of thinking is that he’s really, really shit at telling other people
what the plan is. It’s not out of maliciousness either, it’s because he simply can’t. He’s
factored in too much, accounted for too many things that to explain his well crafted plans
would take much longer than a simple afternoon. It requires an entire wall, pictures and red
string to connect them all.
“I need you there,” Chan tells him at last. “And it’s not just selfish. I think you’d actually fit
in there.”
Hongjoong has to laugh. “Fit in? With police? Have you met me?”
He finally sees something genuine in Chan’s eyes. Chan lifts his hand and brushes
Hongjoong’s bangs from his forehead, a gentle move but nothing more than that. If one were
to look up the definition of ‘friends with benefits’ they’d see Chan and Hongjoong.
“I think you’d be fine,” Chan tells him. “More than fine. You’d be exactly where you need to
be.”
It’s part of a plan, Hongjoong knows that and it comes down to whether or not he trusts Chan.
All of Chan’s plans come down to blind trust.
Because he could explain why, but the caveat with most of his plans is that if he explains
why, they won’t work out the way he wants them to.
“Okay,” Hongjoong says after a moment of thinking it through. “I’ll go to the academy.”
Chan looks relieved and Hongjoong pulls him in for another kiss. If this is going to be their
last time, it might as well be worthwhile.
If one were to look at him right now, they’d definitely question his sanity. But a stranger
would fail to recognise the true sinister nature of the scene before them.
Patting the blanket down, Jeongin is calm as he places a rock down on each corner to keep
them down. Behind him sits a picnic basket, propped up against the cherry blossom tree he
sits near.
It would almost be idyllic were it not for the tombstone he’s sitting in front of, the grave he’s
sitting on and the fact that it’s not the middle of the day, it’s the middle of the night and the
air is alive with the sound of crickets.
Humming to himself, Jeongin places the last rock down to keep the blanket down before he
scoots himself back and turns to his picnic basket. He starts laying out the food containers
and he’s almost finished when the snap of a twig draws his attention to Hyunjin appearing
from the pathway.
“You’re late,” he frowns.
“Excuse me for second guessing your text,” Hyunjin chuckles as he comes up to the grave
and sits himself down on the blanket. “You want to have a picnic in the middle of the night
on a grave. That’s some new level of morbid, Innie.”
“I always found her comforting,” Jeongin says, pointing to the name on the stone behind
himself. “Besides, I feel guilty for not visiting more but the only time I can is during the night
because of our shifts. So, here we are.”
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow and decides not to comment. Both are aware that Minji isn’t the
only one in the ground beneath them.
The truth is that Jeongin himself doesn’t know why he thought this would be a good idea.
He’d been working in the kitchen when the idea came to his mind and he couldn’t shake it
off. So he’d told Hyunjin to meet him there after lockup and he’d gone home to feed the dog
and pack some food. Now here they are and Jeongin traces his fingers along the engraving on
the stone.
Were it up to him, he’d have found some way to make things better for her. To apologise for
using her when she had no idea who he was, to make her life better somehow. Or even just to
leave her happy in her own home without his intrusion. He still felt as though he owed her
something for how she’d unknowingly sheltered him.
“You know, she was probably happy with you there,” Hyunjin comments after he picks out
the watermelon from the basket.
Jeongin blinks at him and Hyunjin nods to the stone.
“She had no idea who you were but she was happy to have you there. She thought you were
someone she knew and liked. The truth doesn’t matter if she died happy knowing she had
someone with her.”
Jeongin stares in near disbelief. It’s something he hadn’t expected to come from Hyunjin’s
mouth.
Hyunjin just keeps picking at the grapes, like it’s no big deal he’d just said something kind
and it’s not until he looks up and notices the look on Jeongin’s face that he frowns.
“...what?”
“You’re kind of amazing,” Jeongin comments, a little awestruck.
Hyunjin snorts, he continues picking at the grapes and leans back on one hand, his lean body
fully relaxed despite the location. He’s probably one of the few people who wouldn’t blink,
wouldn’t feel the slightest bit off about having a picnic on a grave. Jeongin knows at least
Felix would have some reservations.
A comfortable silence falls over the two of them for a while. The kind of silence that doesn’t
need to be filled, not even in the eerie silence of a cemetery. Jeongin packs the food away
once they’re done and crawls across the blankets to sit in Hyunjin’s lap. He rests his head on
his shoulder and closes his eyes.
“Hyunjin?”
“Mmm?”
“Why does it feel like something bad is about to happen?”
He feels Hyunjin’s hand on his back and he hides his face in Hyunjin’s shoulder. He hasn’t
told anyone since he found out the truth about Chan - he doesn’t know how. The only thing
stopping God’s Menu from becoming the next headliner in the papers is Chan.
His power, his influence protects the restaurant and everything in it. He has police who skew
the evidence and turn blind eyes, he has politicians who deliberately turn the attention away
from the cases of missing people and onto other things. He is protecting the restaurant, the
workers and all the secrets inside.
Without him, what happens to them?

“Always so loud in there, Innie,” Hyunjin’s voice says, breaking into his thoughts as he’s
brought back to reality and looks up at him. Hyunjin is watching him curiously, one hand
stroking Jeongin’s hair back as the object of his fascination is Jeongin’s brain. “Come back to
me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Jeongin can’t help the wry smile that appears on his face. “You can’t know everything that
goes on in my mind.”
“Yes I can, I’m jealous of everything that gets to reach you where I can’t,” Hyunjin tells him
quietly. “I’m jealous of the clothes touching your skin, the air that gets to rush into your lungs
and the thoughts in your mind. Let me in, I wanna be the only person in the world who
knows what Yang Jeongin is thinking about.”
It’s said so gently, tenderly and yet Jeongin knows on the most basic, instinctual level that
Hyunjin doesn’t mean well when he says it. The look in his eyes gives him away. Like he’d
eat him alive if he could. An almost primal level of obsession that skirts the edges of insane.
It should deter most normal people but Jeongin now knows he’s never been normal because
instead of feeling put off or even scared, all he feels is content. Wanted. Even loved.
But he can’t tell him the truth. He hadn’t sworn he wouldn’t to Chan but something tells him
not to, perhaps a lingering fear of disobeying Chan or pissing him off.
Or perhaps basic self-preservation. Something he can keep for himself.
“I wish I could remember what I do when I black out,” he says, diverting the topic away from
Chan before it can even get there. “When you were in the hospital I went crazy and I just...I
don’t remember most of the day or night, I just remember waking up at different times and I
knew I’d done something. Something horrible but I couldn’t remember.”
Hyunjin watches him curiously and Jeongin meets his eyes. “What if I’m going crazy?”
“What if you are?” Hyunjin shoots back quietly.
Jeongin winces. “Last time I went crazy like that, I was thrown into an asylum.”
“That’s not going to happen this time,” Hyunjin promises as he brushes Jeongin’s hair behind
his ear and presses a small kiss to the lobe. “You’re not going anywhere, Innie. I’ll chain you
to me first.”
His hands are holding Jeongin tight. As though Jeongin will be ripped out of his arms if he
ever so much as loosens his hold. He nuzzles Jeongin’s earlobe and brings his hand up to cup
Jeongin’s face and turn it up towards himself.
“Show me.”
It’s whispered so softly and Jeongin recognises it. It’s a command, not a request.
His breath comes in stuttery, almost afraid as he meets Hyunjin’s eyes.

“I can’t,” he says. “I don’t have any control over it. I can’t trigger it myself.”
He can see Hyunjin’s curiosity, his mind ticking away as he tries to figure out what would
have triggered Jeongin last time. It’s a dangerous game to play because in that state, Jeongin
knows he can’t remember anything he does but he also has no control. He could hurt a total
stranger, he could hurt someone he cared about.
In that state, could he tell the difference?
“Close your eyes for me, Innie,” Hyunjin says and like an obedient puppy, Jeongin does so.
He can feel the nip of the cold night air, the warmth of Hyunjin’s hands holding him. Draped
over Hyunjin’s lap, Jeongin feels an innate sense of helplessness and for some reason, it isn’t
scaring or concerning him. Instead all he feels is safe.
“I want you to go back for me,” Hyunjin tells him, hands gently moving along Jeongin’s
body as he speaks. Like a child with a pretty little doll, gently straightening each crinkle of
clothing, smoothing each line lovingly. Those same hands tuck Jeongin’s hair behind his ears
and caress his cheek. “Think about the first time you blacked out.”
Jeongin can remember with perfect clarity the first time he blacked out. It had been years ago
and yet the event burnt itself into his mind.
He can’t have been any older than six. He’d just recovered from what he thought was a
horrendous flu and he was getting some air outside. He didn’t know why his mother told him
to go outside, she just did. She had a friend over and she told him not to come inside for a
while.
It was okay, Jeongin liked playing outside. He was sick so often these days he hardly ever got
the time to just be outside.
In the house he and his mother lived in, they could afford a small backyard. Nothing too big,
but big enough for him. It had a small tree, a bit of space for a boy to run around and every
now and then, the stray cats used to come through the gates. He remembers it quite clearly, it
had been a sunny day, the rays of the sun hit his pale skin - still a little sick from the remnants
of whatever he’d been poisoned by.
As he was hitting a ball against the fence, he distinctly remembers the hungry sound of one of
the stray cats. It was the grey one - ugly old thing. The cat was old and its fur was nowhere
near as soft as it might have been had someone actually taken care of it. This wasn’t the first
time Jeongin had seen it either, it liked to hang around and meow at him.
It had an ugly meow too. Almost grumpy, old, it grated on Jeongin’s ears to hear it.
Usually it didn’t come too close - it had obviously had bad experiences with humans in the
past but that day it came right up to Jeongin. It curled itself around his legs and he dropped
his ball, startled to see it so close.
Then, as it looked up at him, his vision started to blur and he didn’t know why.
Back in the present, Jeongin starts to squirm. His hands scramble to grab Hyunjin’s in an
attempt to ground himself. The memory is enough.
The cat hadn’t scared him but the way it stared at him. The way it meowed, the way it got too
close…
“Open your eyes, Innie,” Hyunjin whispers.
Jeongin does and when Hyunjin sees his cold, dead eyes he knows his Innie is gone. His
sweet, loving, emotional little Innie has been pushed down and this new Jeongin...this is the
same Jeongin who killed all those animals, all those people.
Hyunjin gently strokes his cheek, watching as Jeongin’s eyes slowly shift to look up at him
instead. He feels a strange sense of thrill rush down his spine at the thought of it. In his arms
is a Jeongin he’s only seen glimpses of but has been dying to see more of since the day he
buried Woojin alive.
This Jeongin isn’t going to hurt him. This Jeongin is his Jeongin too. He just needs to teach
him to remember what he does when he blacks out.
“Let’s go have some fun,” Hyunjin tells him.
Jeongin’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s cold, almost heartless but Hyunjin’s breath hitches
when he sees it.
It’s the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen.
Every now and then, Changbin questions his life choices.
Like right now as he heads into a storage container with Jung Wooyoung. He could have
spent tonight with Felix - in fact he really wants to spend tonight with Felix. One long night
in the arms of Felix is preferable to almost anything else.
Yet here he is, filling in because Wooyoung had called and told him he couldn’t bring San
with him to a job like this.
At first he thought it was something serious. That they were doing something to do with San,
or sensitive to San and that’s why he was excluded. Now he’s just finding out that Wooyoung
had deliberately left San out - not because he can’t do this job - but because Wooyoung
simply doesn’t want him there.
He should have told Wooyoung to fuck off and let him have his night off with Felix.
“Why are we here?” he asks as he eyes the container in front of him.
Wooyoung had taken him to the docks. To the vast space of endless shipping units. The
corrugated iron walls of the containers stand twice as tall as both of them and in the one
Wooyoung leads him to, the door is slightly ajar.
An omen if Changbin ever saw one.
“I have a rat,” Wooyoung announces as he pushes the door open.
Before he can just walk in, Changbin grabs his shoulder and pulls him back with a small
warning look. He’s getting better at it but every now and then, Wooyoung forgets. He’d been
sheltered all his life, he never needed to really leave but now that he does, he forgets. He
can’t just walk into places, his guard has to do that first and in the absence of San, it’s
Changbin.
Stepping back obediently, Wooyoung watches as Changbin heads in first.
It’s freezing in the container. Stacks and stacks of crates are lined along either side and it’s
not until Changbin takes out his phone and turns the torch on that his eyes are immediately
drawn to the crate right in the middle of the container. The only one not stacked against the
wall.
“Dovey.”
“Mm?” Wooyoung hums as he comes in behind Changbin and peeks over his shoulder.
“That’s my rat,” Wooyoung announces.
He comes around Changbin and the two walk together towards the crate. Changbin frowns
and he’s half afraid of what he’ll find in there. Wooyoung has been doing his job of
integrating as the head of Wolgang Pa beautifully. He’s a master at hiding what he really
feels.
It’s only San and Changbin who know that every time he deals with human traffickers, a little
bit of him dies inside. They’re the only ones who see him crying when he has to sign off on
an export of kidnapped children to work in some overseas sex industry. It’s not as though he
can simply stop those things either - his hold on Wolgang Pa will always be precarious, he
can’t afford to rock the boat just yet.
To do so would not only mean his death but the death of San and probably even Changbin
too.
One day he will be able to. He’ll be able to change the rules and kill anyone who doesn’t
follow but right now it’s safer to keep Wolgang Pa’s iron hold over Busan by adhering to the
businesses that keep it afloat.
Namely the human trafficking and drug industries. Both of which Wooyoung abhors with
almost passionate fervour.
“Dovey,” Changbin says, voice quiet as he watches the crate. “What’s in there?”
Wooyoung doesn’t answer. He simply bends down and unlocks it. Both handles are pushed
open with a resounding creak of old metal and when Wooyoung pushes the heavy lid open,
Changbin’s eyes widen at the sight of the unconscious man inside.
He recognises him as Robert Smith, the (possibly) false name of a man who had come into
the country with diplomatic immunity - and close ties to the human trafficking division.
Changbin and Wooyoung had met him not two days earlier when he’d arranged the shipment
of ten South Korean children with the callous coldness of a business transaction.
It had been Wooyoung’s own pa who provided the children and they were paid for the effort
by this man.
This man who is now bound, unconscious and bleeding from a head wound in the crate.
“Wooyoung, what the fuck?!” Changbin chokes as he leans down to grab the man and check
his pulse.
“He was going to take away children-CHILDREN, Changbin!” Wooyoung shouts, pushing
Changbin away from him. “Leave him, he deserves to rot!”
“You can’t kill him!” Changbin says, scrambling back to his feet to face Wooyoung properly.
“This man has diplomatic immunity for starters but he’s also a business associate of Wolgang
Pa! You can’t kill him!”
“I can and I will!” Wooyoung screams. “This...this monster didn’t even care. He bought those
kids like they were nothing more than meat! We got our money but I couldn’t let him leave
this country with them. I just couldn’t!”
“Woo, you cannot kill this man,” Changbin says. “I get it. Believe me, I get it. I hate him too
but you cannot do this. You need him.”
“The hell I do!” Wooyoung screams but his eyes give him away. He’s on the verge of tears. “I
don’t want to deal with monsters like these, Changbin! I see them every single day and I’m
fucking sick of it! They have no regard for life, they destroy everything they touch, those
poor kids are going to be sex slaves and one was only five years old!”
Changbin wants to argue but he can tell when it’s useless. Wooyoung is emotional, he’s
worked up, he’s angry and he’s distressed. He’s not going to listen to Changbin telling him he
can’t kill this man when he has every single reason to do so.
It’s not like Changbin doesn't agree. The man is a monster. He’s worse than that. He should
be strung up from the highest hook in Gods Menu and served as the premium meal but it’s
because of who he is. How important he is that killing him would be a grave mistake to
make. For both Wooyoung and Changbin.
There are important people who’d miss him. People neither of them can afford making
enemies with.
For Changbin, it’s awfully simple. Every time he has to make a decision like this, he
imagines the people he loves most suffering the consequences. Chan would be shot in the
head if he’s lucky. Jisung would probably be strung up from the highest building. He doesn’t
even want to think about what they’d do to Felix.
In the face of having to ever watch those possibilities come true, he’ll pick the opposite
decision at all times.
Changbin tries to take Wooyoung’s shoulders but he’s shoved off. Wooyoung turns and now
Changbin knows he’s actually crying. The only thing that’s stopped Wooyoung from killing
Robert is the fact that he knows Changbin is right. He can’t.
“I can’t do this,” Wooyoung sobs. “Changbin, I can’t. It’s killing me every single day to sign
off on these things, to overlook these monsters and know how many lives I’m destroying. I
can’t do it, I can’t…”
Changbin leans down to check on Robert. He still has a pulse and his breathing is relatively
normal. Odds are, Wooyoung took the opportunity to smack him around the back of the head
and take him by surprise. He probably didn’t even realise who hit him.
A blessing.
He gets back up again and makes his way slowly towards Wooyoung. As he approaches,
Wooyoung turns around and hides his face in Changbin’s shoulder, his arms already wound
tight around him.
Changbin awkwardly pats his back and glances at the crate again. He’s going to have to do
some major cleaning up to make sure this doesn’t come back to bite them both in the ass.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his hands stroking Wooyoung’s hair back as he gives him a proper hug.
“If it’s of any consolation, you’re so good at acting like you don’t care, no one would ever
know you’re actually falling apart at the seams.”
He gets a small watery chuckle and rubs Wooyoung’s back until Wooyoung finally brings his
head up again. He rubs at his eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breath.
“I can’t live with myself,” Wooyoung says. “When I was little, I always knew what my father
was. He sheltered me from the worst of it but I always knew. He destroyed lives but...but he
loved me. He cared for me, he protected me and I was always split in half about that. Half of
me loved him because he was my father and the other half hated that he was the head of
something so evil.”
Changbin watches as Wooyoung’s eyes turn to the crate. A familiar shade of disgust appears
on his face as he continues.
“That’s why I tried the Youtube and Twitch accounts. I tried to give back. I’d use all the
money my father gave me and I’d try to undo what he did - even if it was just chipping the
iceberg of all his deeds. He’d kill for drugs and I’d donate to the cancer society. He’d
authorise the kidnapping of children and I’d donate to orphanages - I tried, Changbin. I really
tried. I didn’t mind that I was going to die the second my father did, I’d already made peace
with that.”
“But San didn’t,” Changbin says. “And I couldn’t either. Maybe you were okay with just
dying when your father does but what about San? He was never going to be okay with just
losing you like that.”
“It wasn’t his decision to make,” Wooyoung sniffs, pulling back from Changbin’s arms a
little so he can rub at his own face. “I was resigned to dying and I was okay with that. So
long as I could do some good in my life whilst I had time, so long as I could live in my
bubble with San, I was alright with that. But now….now I’m exactly where I never wanted to
be.”
“And that’s why you’ve shut San out,” Changbin surmises.
Wooyoung nods, he still looks a little pained but more determined than ever. “I can’t forgive
him for that. He took my life away from me and gave me one I….I can’t live in. I can’t face
every single day like this, making friends with monsters like him.”
For good measure, Wooyoung kicks the crate and watches Robert roll uselessly to his side.
He shakes his head and rubs at his eyes again.
“I was okay with the cards I’d been dealt. I was fine,” Wooyoung says. “Because dying is
still better than this life I have now. This life of constantly treading lightly, watching every
word I say, making business transactions of the worst kind and knowing that no amount of
anonymous donations will ever fix the devastation I’m causing.”
It’s strange for Changbin. His own hands have already taken lives, countless lives. He’s
almost always had cause - even if it was as weak as “this man is an enemy to Prime Minister
Bang”. He could be as bad as the monsters Wooyoung hates dealing with and yet somehow
he’s not. Not in Wooyoung’s eyes.
Not all the men they kill are guilty. Not all the men they kill are homophobic bigots of the
wealthy world. Some of them are actually innocent and yet Changbin kills them anyway.
He’d never sell off children but he also wouldn’t stop it if the alternative was ever having to
watch his loved ones die.
“I’m going to have to take him to the hospital,” Changbin finally says with a wave towards
Robert. “I’m sorry, Woo. I can’t let you kill him. I can’t let him know you’re the one who
almost killed him too. We’ve got too much to lose.”
Wooyoung lets out a small, jaded sounding huff but he doesn’t object.
That’s when someone rushes into the container and Changbin almost reaches for his gun,
halting when he sees San.
Wooyoung scowls and turns his back to him. “Go away.”
“No,” San replies, breathless from running. “Not until you’ve heard what I have to say.”
“I’m not interested in anything you have to say!” Wooyoung screams, whipping around to
face San properly. “You ruined my fucking life, San. End of story.”
“Well it’s not the end of mine!” San screams back and suddenly Changbin feels extremely out
of place. Like he’s intruding on something intimate.
He would flee but San is blocking the door and he still has to carry Robert out of here. He
definitely can’t afford to leave Robert alone with Wooyoung.
San stares at Wooyoung and Changbin knows that look. In this moment, Wooyoung is the
only thing San can see. He probably doesn’t even realise Changbin is there. He looks almost
crazed, breathing a little faster for lack of air and he looks desperate.
“I have loved you since the second I saw you. I knew you were mine,” San says and
internally, Changbin is wishing he’d just spent the night with Felix. “If I could have gotten
you away from your father, I would have. If I could have found any other way of getting you
out of there so you could have a normal life, I would have. But there was none. I was never
going to settle for simply losing you the day your father died, I was desperate for that never
to happen.”
“You knew I didn’t want to become my father,” Wooyoung almost spits with pent up hatred
and tears. “You should have known I’d hate this.”
“All I wanted was for you to stay alive,” San says, his voice significantly calmer than
Wooyoung. He holds his hands up a little in surrender and watches his lover and boss
carefully. “That is all I want. I’d die for you, you know that. I’m ready to spend the rest of my
life with you hating me for keeping you alive but please...please don’t shut me out.”
Changbin can hear San’s voice cracking and he really wishes he’d just stayed at home. Sure,
Robert might have died but at least he’d be spared unwillingly having to watch this.
“Hate me. Loathe me but keep me with you,” San begs. “Please. I’ll spend my life protecting
you and following you even if you think I’m the worst monster in the world, I don’t care. Just
don’t shut me out, I’m begging you.”
Unwillingly, Changbin looks at Wooyoung and what he sees isn’t a man who hates San.
Wooyoung is cracking at the seams and it’s such a contrast to the cold, almost iron shield he
dons when he’s dealing with his pa. Or with anyone who isn’t San or Changbin. He’s not the
kind who wears his emotions clear on his face or his heart on his sleeve but he is when it’s
just the two of them.
Right now, he looks like he’s on the verge of a breakdown.
San sees it too. “I love you, Wooyoung,” he whispers. “Please. Please keep me with you.”
This is when Changbin looks away. He doesn’t see it but he hears the moment Wooyoung’s
fragile exterior cracks. His first sob muffled in San’s shoulder as he finally lets the other hold
him after months and months of continuous silent treatment.
Then they’re kissing and Changbin takes that as his cue to lean down and close the crate.
“I’m just gonna...take this guy and go,” he announces but when he looks up, neither San nor
Wooyoung notice. They’re too busy wrapped in each other, Wooyoung’s fingers in San’s hair
and San’s hands clutching Wooyoung like he’s starved.
The only indication Changbin gets that they heard him at all is when Wooyoung lets go of
San’s hair for a moment to wave. It’s all the confirmation he needs.
He grabs the crate and starts dragging it out, making sure to close the door on his way out to
give them privacy.
He should have just fucking stayed home.
In one of the richer parts of Busan, a new apartment building is in the process of being built.
The area is cordoned off as the construction site is littered with warning signs, trucks and
equipment left for the morning shift.
Bare walls and foundations make up the bottom floor, the entire skeleton of the building
covered in protective green covering to shield it from the elements. Every now and then, a
chilly evening wind rattles the covering, making it brush against the drywall and poles.
Neither Hyunjin nor Jeongin notice the disturbance. Hyunjin is instead watching, fascinated
as Jeongin ties a man to the pole in the centre of the area.
It was quick. What surprised Hyunjin was that it wasn’t like Jeongin wasn’t capable of this
when he was in his right mind - he was. He’d picked a man of average to slightly smaller
build, easy enough to overpower with his own strength. He’d snatched him right from the
footpath and incapaciated him in the same breath.
It was like all of Jeongin’s inhibitions, his emotions, his morals, all the things that would
have stopped him when he was ‘awake’ were gone and here he acted on impulse and instinct
alone.
It’s kind of fascinating.
There’s still a dead look in Jeongin’s eyes. There’s no hint of his usual gentle touch as he ties
the man to the pole with a chain they’d found near the construction site. The man is
whimpering, half conscious, bleeding from the head and no match for the chains.
“Please,” he whispers. “Please, I’ll do anything, just let me go. I won’t say anything.”
“Stop talking,” Jeongin mutters.
He won’t remember this when he comes to. Just like all the other times and it’s strange to
Hyunjin how he can be looking at his lover but another side he’d never met before. Another
side neither of them knew existed until fairly recently.
It’s like he has multiple personality disorder...which might be the case if Jeongin’s dead eyes
didn’t give away that it was something else.
“Innie,” he calls, making the other look up as he finishes up on the chains. “Do you still
wanna play?”
Jeongin nods. There’s still something innocent about him. Maybe it’s the bambi eyes but
Hyunjin thinks he sees something of his lover in there, something conscious.
Leaving his phone propped on a shelf to give them light, Hyunjin approaches Jeongin and
slides up to his back to wrap his arms around him from behind. He rests his chin on Jeongin’s
shoulder and inhales the scent of his hair, his neck. He still smells like his Innie.
A testing kiss to his neck elicits a small whimper and Hyunjin’s lips curl into a smile. Still
sounds like his Innie too.
“Look at his back,” Hyunjin whispers, both their eyes turning to look at the man in front of
them.
Jeongin had tied him with his chest pressed against the pole and his back to them. His hands
are tied around the pole, unable to move without hurting themselves on the chains.
“Rip his shirt open, I wanna see his back,” Hyunjin says and Jeongin moves to follow the
command with ease.
Hyunjin’s arms still hold Jeongin to him, his chest pressed against Jeongin’s back as he
watches Jeongin’s hands grab the shirt and starts pulling at the thinner part of the shirt until it
rips. The man is crying as his back is shown, the long line of his spine exposed as Jeongin
pushes the shirt aside to show more skin.
Reaching into his pocket, Hyunjin pulls out a pocketknife and pushes it into Jeongin’s hands.
This part needs no instruction. From what Hyunjin has been able to learn about Jeongin in
this headspace is that Jeongin reacts to anything he considers a threat. Anything that makes
noise, anything that gets too close to him. If he doesn’t know it, he reacts. He kills it before it
can kill him, it’s the most basic, most primitive of reactions and yet it’s his only one.
That, Hyunjin surmises, is why he killed the dogs. Why he killed the cats. It’s why he killed
anyone who came too close to him last time he’d escaped the hospital. He’s like a wild
animal, one with sharp claws and teeth that is terrified of anything that gets too close.
At its core, it’s a terrified, small, defenseless little Jeongin who has been abused so much that
he had to create this outer shell, this being that is incapable of feeling any empathy because
his mind has narrowed the world down to kill or be killed. A being his mind created to
protect himself and his memories.
What the man in chains doesn’t know is that every time he makes a noise, he brings out
Jeongin’s defense mechanism.
Hyunjin keeps Jeongin in his arms. He presses little kisses to his neck, to his shoulder and
hair and watches as the man starts to cry.
“Please,” the man starts to scream. “Please!”

He sees Jeongin flinch and that clinches it. The knife digs in right at the top of his back,
under his neck and the man gasps. He can’t make any more noise as Jeongin grips the handle
and starts dragging the knife down with impressive force. It rips skin, blood begins to pour
down and splatter on the floor but Jeongin keeps dragging the knife.
It’s so deep that Hyunjin can see the spine, he can see muscle, tissue and bone. The man
begins to shudder but Jeongin’s hand grips the handle so tight his knuckles go white as he
continues dragging it all the way down.
He has to go around bone, he tears through muscle but he opens the back, not caring that the
wooden flooring is covered in blood. It’s all over him too, running down his arms, covering
his chest, his legs, his face. Both of their faces.
Hyunjin doesn’t let him go. Not even when he takes the knife out and starts hacking at the
bones of the ribcage connected to the spine. It’s such a grotesque, macabre sight, it’s hard at
first for Hyunjin to believe that Jeongin had caused it.
But here he was in his arms, still hacking away until chips of bone fly into the air.
The man doesn’t respond, he probably died within the first few minutes from shock alone. If
the blood loss didn’t get him, the shock to his heart would have done it. Hyunjin moves his
hand down Jeongin’s arm until he’s holding his wrist, gently stopping him from hacking any
more.
“He’s dead, Innie,” Hyunjin says. He can taste the iron tang of blood on his lips as he presses
a small kiss to Jeongin’s neck.
They’re wet all over, covered in deep, dark scarlet blood. The man sags a little in the chains,
kept upright only by them and the pole.
Taking the knife out of Jeongin’s hands, Hyunjin shoves it back into his pocket and turns his
lover around until he can see his face. Jeongin’s eyes are still gone but Hyunjin thinks he can
see him in there somewhere, the smallest glimmer of life that is his boyfriend.
Not minding the blood on either of them, Hyunjin cups his face in his hands and leans in to
press a kiss to his lips. He feels Jeongin kiss him back and it’s the bloodiest kiss he’s ever
had. The taste of iron, the strong stench of it in the air, mixed between their lips and dripping
onto their tongues - neither care.
“Come back to me, Innie,” Hyunjin whispers against his lips. He presses more kisses to his
cheek, his jaw, his neck and Jeongin’s eyes flutter in response.
“Innie, come back,” Hyunjin whispers in his ear as his arms hug him close and lips leave a
bloody trail on skin. “Come back to me.”
He doesn’t see it but he feels it. The slightest shudder, a sharp intake of breath and Jeongin’s
arms coming up to hold him back. Jeongin’s breathing changes from low and controlled to
fast and almost frantic, his hands start to shake and Hyunjin can swear even the rhythm of his
heart changes.
He looks up in time to see Jeongin, his Jeongin, wide eyed and frantic and covered in blood,
looking at what he’d done in pure horror.
“Hyunjin?” Jeongin gasps, his hands gripping Hyunjin’s clothes as he stares at the body.
“What….what did I do?”
Hyunjin holds him tight and looks at the body on the pole. It’s a beautiful work of art, proof
his boyfriend is probably more fucked up than he ever could have imagined.
“You made art,” he tells his shaking boyfriend. He presses a kiss to Jeongin’s head and holds
him close. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Jeongin’s breathing is too fast, he’s hyperventilating. Hyunjin feels it coming and tightens his
grip just in time for Jeongin to faint in his arms.
“So.”
“So.”
“Here we are.”
“Yes. We are here.”
“Why are we here, Seungmin?”
Minho is bundled in a black hoodie with the hood up to cover his hair. His jeans have holes in
the knees, his hands covered in stripey fingerless gloves and to top it all off, he has a black
cloth mask covering most of his face. But it’s the first time he’s left the house for anything
other than work in a long time and he looks somewhat out of place in front of the cinema.
Adorable, Seungmin will admit to himself quietly, but completely out of place in the crowd
of people who aren’t bundled from head to toe in the middle of summer.
“We’re here because my therapist told me I had to get out and do stuff that doesn’t include
going back and forth from work every day,” Seungmin tells him. “And the only other sad,
pathetic asshole I could think of who doesn’t have a life right now, is you.”
“Do you wanna die?” Minho scowls, he folds his arms and somehow he manages to look
even smaller than before. “I didn’t know you were seeing a therapist. Hope you don’t tell
them everything or I’ll have to kill them.”
“I’m not that dumb,” Seungmin mutters, sticking his hands in his jean pockets as he looks
around the crowd. “I just need to talk to someone every now and then. Someone who has
nothing to do with the shitfest in God's Menu.”
Minho doesn’t say anything but Seungmin suspects that’s because a part of him knows
Seungmin is right. Their feelings about their workplace and workmates may differ but neither
can really disagree with the statement that God's Menu right now is a royal shitfest.
“Well,” Minho finally huffs. “If your therapist's aim was to make you less of an ass, they’re
failing. Why did you drag me out here, Seungmin? I don’t wanna see a movie.”
“Too bad because neither do I but I have to get out and if I have to be miserable, you have to
be miserable too,” Seungmin announces, his eyes flicking to the board of movies available.
“There’s a Marvel movie? Or maybe…”
“You’re buying the popcorn,” Minho grumbles, shrinking even more into his hoodie as he
follows Seungmin reluctantly into the building.
Despite Minho’s grumbling, it actually works out alright. Seungmin picks the movie, buys
the popcorn and drinks (because it’s cheaper he goes for the couples combo which means
they have to share one massive drink and Minho makes a point of getting two straws.) Even
the seats aren’t bad, they’re comfortably in the middle, right next to the aisle for a quick
getaway.
Movies are easy, they’re not required to talk. It doesn’t, however, stop Minho from discreetly
stuffing popcorn down the side of Seungmin’s seat. Unaware of course that Seungmin is
doing the same until the lights come up at the end of the movie and both stand to find the
bottoms of their pants completely covered in salt and popcorn.
“Fuck,” Minho groans, seeing the salty mess on his ass. His temporary annoyance is relieved
however when he sees the damage done to Seungmin’s pants. “Minnie, you’re a mess.”
“Can’t take you anywhere, I swear to god,” Seungmin huffs as both of them head out of the
theatre.
Neither have the desire to go home just yet. Seungmin’s apartment is cold, dark and empty
and Minho’s has cats but he’s been inside too long. They both agree to find a coffee shop and
spend at least an extra twenty minutes out in public. Neither will admit it’s because it took
one movie for both of them to realise they’re lonely and actually like being out like this.
“At least Han’s talking to you again,” Seungmin says after they’ve both settled in a quiet
corner of Starbucks. There aren’t that many other customers about and those who are there
pay them no mind, it’s fairly peaceful.
Minho’s mug makes clinking sounds as he stirs the spoon around. He nods slowly and leans
back in his chair.
“Yeah, he is. He hasn’t forgiven me but…”
“But he’s talking to you, that’s progress,” Seungmin finishes for him.
Something’s off. It doesn’t take a genius to read the look of hesitation in Minho’s eyes. The
way he keeps stirring the drink, the way he can’t meet Seungmin’s eyes. The truth of the
matter is that Seungmin can read him easily enough to tell why, he’s one of the only people
who can.
God knows he’s been watching Minho longer than anyone else.
“I’m not sure he should forgive me,” Minho admits after Seungmin gives him a moment. “I
won’t be surprised if he never does.”
“You don’t get to decide that,” Seungmin reminds him. “Whether or not Han forgives you,
that’s up to him.”
“There’s something wrong with me if I can just…” Minho trails off, clearly struggling with
his words and thoughts. “Han loves with his entire being, it’s one of the reasons I was so
drawn to him to begin with. But I had Chan first and I should have cut him right out of my
mind the day I met Han and-”
“Hey, give yourself a break,” Seungmin scolds. “Jesus, Minho. You’re not perfect and it’s not
that simple either.”
Minho pouts and leans back in his seat. He finally takes his spoon out of his mug and puts it
aside.
“You wouldn’t know anyway, you weren’t there.”
“No, I wasn’t but I know you,” Seungmin reminds him. “Every time I look at you, it’s like
looking in a fucking mirror and it’s infuriating. Nothing with you is ever simple so why the
fuck would this be?”
Minho snorts. “That means nothing with you is ever simple either.”
There’s a look of slight defeat when Seungmin shrugs and he has a point. It is like looking in
a mirror. Of everyone in the staff, Seungmin is the only person who has his dry sense of
humour. He’s the only one who can take every cold insult and deal it back tenfold. With
Jisung, Minho’s hard edges soften naturally, he has lines he’ll never cross with him. With
Chan it’s different but there are still lines, hard lines he’ll never cross.
But Seungmin…
Maybe it’s because they met when they were still teenagers, maybe that’s why Seungmin is
the way he is. After all, Minho is self-loathing enough to blame himself for how cynical
Seungmin is - he has no idea whether he was this bad before meeting him or if leaving him
was what caused it.
“I don’t know if it’s going to hurt you, me saying this," Minho begins carefully, his finger
tapping the table lightly. “But even if things hadn’t turned out the way they did, even if we
never came anywhere near that restaurant, I don’t think you and I would have worked out
anyway.”
He’s almost concerned he hurt Seungmin’s feelings but is pleasantly relieved when he looks
up to see Seungmin nodding in agreement.
“We’re too alike,” Seungmin adds quietly. “And that’s not necessarily a good thing for us.”
“No,” Minho smiles. “Unfortunately not.”

Silence falls over the two of them. But it’s a comfortable silence. The kind neither feel the
need to fill because they’ve known each other too long to know that they’re both fine with
the space between them. There’s nothing they need to say, nothing they need to assure the
other of. They know each other too well for that.
Then Minho reaches over and takes Seungmin’s hand in his own, giving it a small squeeze
before he lets it go again and turns his attention back to his drink.
He doesn’t say it, but Seungmin knows that was a thank you for the night.
When Jeongin wakes up, it’s as though he dreamt it all.
He almost thinks he did.
The sun is shining through the curtains and he’s back in bed. Not a spot of blood on either
him or Hyunjin who is curled up sleeping next to him, arms tight around him as always.
Jeongin stares up at the ceiling. He doesn’t really remember much of last night. Bits and
fragments after their picnic in the graveyard. He doesn’t really know what he was thinking,
what possessed him to ever think that was a good idea but it hadn’t gone wrong.
No zombies popping up from the ground, no curses or anything for soiling the grounds with
food. It had been rather peaceful actually...calm.
Until he blacked out and from there he only remembers the tiniest bits. Like noises, snatches
of sound from the void of his broken memories.
If this is what going insane feels like, he wonders how long he has until that pitch blackness,
that void of remembering only the tiniest bits of what he does, will be his every day.
Did he actually kill someone or did he dream it? Was he with Hyunjin the whole time or did
he leave him at some point? Jeongin can never tell, the last time he blacked out, he left the
hospital so it’s not out of the question that he’d find a way to ditch Hyunjin if he wanted to
for some reason.
He hates not understanding himself. Not understanding his own mind, it’s the scariest thing.
That lack of control, that terror that he could do something to someone he loves. He could do
something so cold, so devoid of emotion, he could be someone else. He doesn’t trust himself
and it’s terrifying.
The alarm goes off on the bedside table and Hyunjin groans. He turns his face to hide it in
Jeongin’s shoulder, groaning more as the alarm punctures into his dreams, forcing him
awake.
“Turn it off,” he moans and Jeongin reaches an arm out to flick the snooze button on his
phone until silence envelops them once more.
He feels Hyunjin go back to sleep, his entire body gets heavier as his breathing evens out and
Jeongin tries to close his eyes but his mind is wide awake. He feels anxiety clawing at him,
his breathing skips a little, he can hear his heartbeat in his ears and when he tries to focus on
Hyunjin’s warmth, it doesn’t help.
With a small gasp, Jeongin wriggles his way out of Hyunjin’s arms and out of bed. He heads
into the bathroom and locks himself in.
With one hand braced on either side of the sink, Jeongin dips his head and tries to breathe in
deep. It’s a familiar scene, this isn’t the first time he’s tried to stave off an anxiety attack by
locking himself in the bathroom. Too many times he’s seen his shaking pale fingers gripping
the porcelain curves of the sink, too many times he’s heard his own breathing echoing in the
cold room as he tries to keep his vision from wavering.
He feels sick but he can’t throw up. He feels like he’ll faint but instead he’s awake to feel his
mind ripping itself apart and all the while he’s trying to keep it together. It’s like being in the
middle of a broken bridge with one hand on either side, feeling himself ripped in half as he
tries to keep it together.
He doesn’t even realise he’s shaking until the worst of the attack subsides and he feels so
cold.
He’d done this once when he was eight. It was a really bad attack sometime after he killed the
neighbours dog. He didn’t remember much of it but his mother told him later what had
happened. She didn’t explicitly blame him for it either, instead all she looked was scared and
he’d managed to connect the dots later that it had to have been him.
He’d locked himself in the bathroom that night, fingers gripped the sink and he hunched over
it, trying like hell to keep his breathing steady though at the time he had no idea what was
wrong with him. He remembers crying as quietly as he can so as not to wake his mother
down the hall and he remembers thinking he’s going insane.
The attack passed and it wasn’t the last of its kind but he distinctly remembers that one
because it felt like he still had blood on his hands. In the midst of his madness, he could still
feel bones breaking under his fingers, the echoing sounds of whimpering in his ears, warm,
warm blood between his fingers.
Opening his eyes, Jeongin meets his own reflection. His hand leaves the sink to grab his
phone and place it on the basin. He calls Chan and puts the phone on speaker, waiting until he
hears Chan’s sleepy voice.
“Innie?”
“Hyung,” Jeongin says, breath shakier than he likes. “I need you to do me a favour.”
“What’s up?” Chan asks.
In the background, Jeongin can hear another voice. Muffled, quiet, sleepy and he frowns but
quickly pushes it aside.
“I need you to look into something for me. Can I come into your office today and explain?
It’s really important.”
Silence. Jeongin looks at the phone and bites his lip. Chan knows that Jeongin knows his
secret and Jeongin doesn’t want to hold it over him but if anyone can find the information he
needs, it’s going to be Chan. Chan and his infinite resources and power, he can definitely pull
up whatever he needs with a few well placed words and contacts.
“Sure.”
Jeongin hears the other voice, this time a little clearer asking Chan who he’s talking to. It’s
not Minho’s voice and it’s certainly not Kaeun’s so Jeongin finds his curiosity spiking a little.
Not that he has to know who Chan is fucking but he still finds himself curious.
And perhaps a tiny bit relieved that Chan appears to have other things to do when he’s not
being the perfect son, the protector of Gods Menu and just being around for them in general.
“I’ll see you later today, then,” Jeongin promises.
“Mm, and Innie?”
“Yeah?”
“Happy birthday.”
Jeongin blinks. He’d completely forgotten, he pulls the phone back and checks on the date to
see that actually yes, it is his birthday.
“Thanks.”
“See you later.”
Jeongin hangs up and stares at himself in the mirror, now a little shaken.
That incident had been 12 years ago. When he began at the restaurant, he was nineteen.
He checks the time on his phone and takes a deep breath.
“Happy birthday, Innie.”
Chapter End Notes
Heeeyyyy!
First of all thank you so much for your patience. I have three chapters in the wait and
this one came out first despite all my teasers being about the next (Which yes, some of
you have figured out is a Hyunlix chapter - that one is coming out next. It kind of has to)
The third is a secret but when it comes out, most of you might read it? I think? We'll
have to see.
Just as I finished this chapter, Hyunjin with short hair came bursting onto my t-list and I
have to say, the boy looks gorgeous no matter what but Hyunjin in this fic is going to
keep his long hair because I'm emotionally attached and I'm weak - sue me.
Anyway, this one came out first so we're having this one whilst I finish the chapter that
comes after this one. I missed all of you and see you next time!
- Zara
EXTRA XXIII: Dulce Periculum
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
The arrest of Hwang Hyunjin showcased more than just a seriously disturbed mind.
Police who arrived at the scene would describe the horrors in a similar fashion. He was just
sitting there, right there in the middle of two dead bodies. Covered in innards and so much
blood running up and down his arms, legs and torso. Splashed all over his face.
This boy was just sitting there and laughing.
They arrested him on the spot, there was no doubt he’d done it. He had the knife in his hand
for fucks sake and he was clearly well out of his mind. High, insane, they couldn’t tell but the
officers who responded first had never seen anything like it.
Neither had Busan.
What anyone looking into his case has to understand, even from a completely unbiased
standpoint, is that Busan had been boring for awhile. They’d had a dry period where the most
interesting news was what the mayor had for lunch. In the absence of news from both the
capital and the second largest city, their news was filled with what was happening overseas.
How were American politics holding up and how interesting - albeit dangerous - other
countries looked.
Then they had their own. Their very own killer and the thing the media honed in on like bees
to honey (or like flies on crap) was his face. What a gorgeous tortured soul they had in their
midst. Sure, he’d murdered his own father and some other boy but he was beautiful and the
pictures the newspapers caught of him, cuffed, out of his mind and being pushed into the
police car was the one that went viral.
Overnight the story was shared all over the world.
They called him the ‘Tortured Teenager’, ‘Beautiful Killer’, one newspaper didn’t mention
the fact that he’d killed at all and instead posted a half page commentary on failed parenting
and a failing system. It blamed everything but him. The narrative in one night went from a
teenager who’d killed his own father to a beautiful, misunderstood and tortured soul who had
only killed because he was raised to do so.
Amazing how many stories could be written with very little information or evidence to go by.
It opened a commentary, a societal mess where the nation was divided over whether to throw
this boy down the deepest well or give him a second chance in the hopes of changing him.
Because of his looks, people started collecting newspapers, magazines, whatever had images
of his face. Websites were set up asking for money to post bail for him, lovesick and possibly
lonely people began fetishizing him.
Some even went as far as to say that if they’d been on the end of his knife, they’d have
thanked him for it.
Others insisted the people who’d become infatuated with him were missing the basic point
that he’d killed two people and was found covered in their blood and laughing about it. They
argued that it didn’t matter how beautiful he was, he was a killer. An insane one at that.
Sadly, these people were in the minority.
The centre of attention himself, however, couldn’t care less and after spending one week in a
holding cell whilst the police scratched their heads over what to do with him, a visitor finally
came for him.
When he walks into the room, he spots two very well dressed men. The first looks somewhat
familiar with curly platinum blonde hair and a strangely endearing smile. The second is taller
than him and standing in an expensive suit, shiny shoes and his hair slicked back - he’s also
significantly older.
“Ah, here he is,” the younger one grins.
Hyunjin is forced down into his chair at the table and when the younger one sees the cuffs, he
frowns and turns to the officer.
“The cuffs won’t be necessary,” he says.
It’s the way he says it that catches Hyunjin’s attention. Around here, the officers are the ones
in charge. They take orders only from their seniors and they’re all quite a bit older. Yet this
boy speaks to them not only as though he’s on their level, he’s above them.
What surprises him more is when the officer, after a moment of stunned surprise, does as he’s
told and actually takes the cuffs off Hyunjin’s wrists.
The younger boy smiles again and sits on the other side of the table with the older man -
whom Hyunjin can only guess is a lawyer.
“I’m Chan,” the younger one tells him. “Bang Chan.”
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. Well that explains why he looks familiar. Hyunjin isn’t known for
paying attention to politics but he does pay enough attention to his surroundings to notice the
son of the prime minister running around all over the place.
“This man here is Hyungsik. Your lawyer.”
Hyunjin blinks, momentary confusion painting his features before they’re forced back into
their same indifference. He’s awfully good at hiding his real emotions but every now and
then, surprise forces its way to the surface.
It’s the leftovers of Seungmin’s influence. That’s what he calls it. The days when he cared,
when he had someone who cared what he thought, what he did and said, that was when
Seungmin loved him. But when Seungmin left, Hyunjin started killing that part of himself
off.
“I can’t afford a lawyer,” he finally says.
He’d spent the last week in that cell fully prepared to go away for life for what he’d done.
Strangely enough, he couldn’t really bring himself to care about his fate. Whether he was put
on death row, put away for the rest of his life or somehow released, he didn’t care. A cold
cloak of complete apathy had taken over him long before he actually killed his father and it
hadn’t been removed since.
There’s a strange freedom in apathy. He has nothing to gain, nothing to lose, he just has
nothing and it might be a terrifying thought to other people, Hyunjin couldn’t find it in
himself to care.
“I’m paying for him,” Chan tells him. “I’m here because I believe you don’t belong in jail. I
believe you belong somewhere else.”
Hyunjin locks his gaze on Chan’s face. He can see a strong exterior, a shield around him and
he’s not surprised. Rich and entitled kids of Bang Chan’s calibre are shielded. They’re taught
at a very early age not to wear their hearts on their sleeves and sometimes those lessons come
out in cruelty instead. Kids with silver spoons who use their copious amounts of free time to
torture those ‘lesser’ than them.
Hyunjin’s seen them before. He’s fucked a few of them too. He took great pleasure in
plucking the feathers off their golden wings and dragging them down to his level. He’d choke
them into the mattress, make them beg for him and they always - always did. To teenagers
who had never had to ask for anything, who got everything they wanted, Hyunjin represented
something very different and he was addictive. He told them no, he made them get on their
knees for him, he made them beg and they loved it.
Chan has that same shield those kids had and Hyunjin stares, wondering how much work it
would take to get that shield to crack.
“You’ve caused quite a stir outside,” Chan tells him. “Have you been able to see the news in
here? Read the newspapers? People can’t seem to decide what to do with you, half of them
are besotted.”
Hyunjin vaguely recalls a few brave girls who tried to visit, claiming they were his girlfriend.
Thankfully they didn’t get past the guards but the ones who did were the religious type. The
ones who wanted to save him, to understand him, to blame everything else for making him
what he is.
Pull out a pretty face and the human race turns into a band of thirsty idiots.
“If you came here to get me out and try to rehabilitate me, you’re wasting your time,”
Hyunjin finally tells Chan. “I don’t feel sorry for what I did.”
“I’m not expecting you to change,” Chan replies.
That smile of his never leaves his face. Like well-honed charm on full blast and Hyunjin
realises he’s not dealing with a rich kid who’s never been told no before. He’s not even
dealing with someone who thinks they can change him.
More than anyone else he’s ever met, Hyunjin gets the distinct impression that Chan can
somehow see right through him and that is both chilling and exciting.
“So what do you want?” Hyunjin asks.
“Simple,” Chan tells him. “You.”
Felix and Hyunjin start at God’s Menu on the same day.
Training wise, it’s a dick move. With Felix in the kitchen and Hyunjin on the main floor, the
rest of the staff have their hands full trying to show them the ropes as well as cater to the
growing amount of customers who start to come into God’s Menu regularly. In fact when
Chan told Minho that two new staff members were set to start at the same time, Minho
almost pulled his hair out.
It doesn’t help that at the same time, the Seoul, Daegu and Jeju branches of God’s Menu were
opening simultaneously but that one wasn’t entirely Chan’s fault, it was just how it worked
out.
As a result, Chan, Changbin and Jisung had to leave for the different branches at the same
time, leaving the training and integration of the newbies solely on Seungmin and Minho’s
shoulders.
Both of them would have throttled Chan if they had the chance.
In the kitchen, there is only Seungmin and another named Choi Sungho. Seungmin knows
about what’s going on in the freezer, Sungho doesn’t and Chan still isn’t sure he can entirely
trust him. Felix completes the kitchen ensemble but he needs to be trained.
Out on the floor, Minho had been working alone with Jisung but ever since the expansion,
they’ve needed at least one more. Hence, Hyunjin. It doesn’t help that Jisung won’t be there
for a few weeks but Minho will be okay on his own training Hyunjin.
But Felix is a welcome addition to the restaurant. As soon as he came in, his sunny and
bubbly personality began infecting the workplace - particularly the kitchen. He started
making tiny little changes to the presentation of the food and it was received rather well by
the customers.
“Omelettes with tomato sauce happy faces,” Seungmin comments after he sees Felix’s
breakfast specialty. “Simple but…” he scrunches his face up as though the next word is going
to hurt him. “...cute.”
“Right?” Felix beams as he hands the plate out through the window to Hyunjin.
The addition of Hyunjin to the staff is different. Where Felix brightens the entire place up by
simply breathing there, Hyunjin has an interesting effect on the customers and Minho is the
first to notice that more start to come just because of it.
His release from prison and his innocence of all charges is not a well kept secret. In fact
Busan and abroad had been keeping a sharp eye on it. When Chan’s miracle lawyer managed
to not only declare Hyunjin innocent but also go as far as getting the Busan police force to
not only admit they were wrong and also apologise, people started to come looking for
Hyunjin.
They’d find him at the restaurant and sometimes spend hours there, ordering meal after meal
just so he had to come serve them whilst they stared.
“Chris,” Minho says as he comes into Chan’s office after one week of observing the newbies.
Chan looks up from his desk and watches as Minho closes the door behind him and comes up
to his desk.
“I realise you’re leaving for Seoul tomorrow-”
“I am really sorry about that, I didn’t mean for all of this to coincide at the same time,” Chan
tells him, wincing at the thought of the amount of work both Seungmin and Minho have in
front of them.
Not only in training their newbies but also in keeping both of them out of the freezer - for
now neither Hyunjin nor Felix are aware of what’s going on down there and Chan’s still not
sure when to tell them - if he ever should.
“I’ll kill you for it later but I have a question about Hyunjin,” Minho says with a simple wave
of his hand, as if batting away the apology for now. “He’s the one who was accused of
murdering his father, right?”
Chan nods and Minho narrows his eyes.
“He’s not innocent of it, is he?”
Chan takes a deep breath, he pushes his folders away from himself for now as he tries to
think of how to explain the situation to Minho. After all, were it anyone else, Chan would
have had a calculated lie about how Hyunjin was proven innocent and that should be the end
of it but the problem is he always did have an issue lying to Minho.
“Hyunjin is different,” Chan eventually says, his words carefully thought out before he
speaks. “Yes, you’re right. He’s not innocent but he’s also - I think at least - going to be
useful on our side. Particularly with what we do in the freezer.”
“Are you sure you can trust him with a secret like that?” Minho asks, a little skeptical. “I’ve
only been watching him for a week but Hyunjin very much looks like the sort who’s had to
survive alone so long he doesn’t know how to work with others.”
“Not entirely true, Seungmin knows him,” Chan says. “But yes, you might otherwise be
right.”
“And Felix doesn’t strike me as the type who’s ever seen someone die - let alone seen
someone being eaten,” Minho points out. “Don’t get me wrong, I like him. He’s adorable.
But he’s not...he’s not a killer.”
Chan nods slowly. “I have my reasons for keeping both of them but for now, keep an eye on
them. Look after them and I promise I will be back as soon as this opening in Seoul is done. I
need to make sure that the restaurant runs properly before I come back.”
“I assume you’re going to leave the freezer key with Seungmin so I’ll handle training
Hyunjin at least. There is a bright side to him, he hates the attention but he’s bringing in
customers.”
“So long as those customers pay to gawk at him - and they don’t touch, I’m fine with it,”
Chan grins. “It’s not likely but if my father ever visits the restaurant, hide Felix. Don’t let him
see him, alright?”
Minho narrows his eyes and Chan breathes a sigh of relief when Minho seems to understand
that he shouldn’t ask why. Instead he nods. “Okay, I’ll keep your father away from Felix.”
The door knocks and both look up to see Felix’s head poking in. “Bad time?”
“Not at all, come in. I was just leaving,” Minho smiles, he lets Felix in and nods to Chan
before he leaves and closes the door behind himself.
“You alright, Fe?” Chan asks. “I know it’s a little sudden. You just got here and I have to take
off but I promise you’re in good hands. Seungmin and Minho are good.”
The look on Felix’s face is a little reserved and already Chan is worried. He can’t help it.
Since he realised Felix is actually his little brother, he’d gone out of his way to make sure the
other was okay. He’d helped him find a decent apartment, offered him a job and made sure
the others knew to be patient with him. Felix is still learning Korean and thankfully, both
Minho and Seungmin are well aware of it, they’re patient and correct him or explain slowly
when they have to. Sungho helps where he can but he seems to have a little less patience
despite actually knowing English.
Still, Chan worries. He’s never had a younger sibling before and it strikes him as strange that
the worry sets in so quickly when it comes to Felix. How invested he is in making sure Felix
is okay.
The proper thing to do would have probably been to send him straight home but Felix is
stubborn - still damn set on finding his real father. A quest Chan is still trying to find a way to
delay.
“Have you heard anything yet?” Felix asks, sitting on the chair opposite Chan’s desk. “You
said you were going to ask your sources about Uisim Inc and who my father might be.”
“Nothing yet,” Chan lies. “Library resources were useless too but you have to understand,
one of the main reasons Uisim went down in the first place was because of their shoddy
admin.”
“That doesn’t help,” Felix agrees. “I am really grateful you’ve set me up so well here but I
really want to find him, you know? I want to know why he didn’t want me.”
Chan hides his wince. The only thing Felix knows about his father is that he worked in Uisim
Inc as the Head of Directors. It’s the only thing he has to go on and with that, Chan can work
up a reasonable lie. Find someone who died, make up a story that he was the Head of
Directors and maybe the reason he couldn’t come find Felix was either because he never
knew about him or because he died.
It’s all plausible. It’s much better than Felix finding out the truth - or even worse, his own
father finding out the truth and having Felix killed for it. If there’s one thing Chan knows
better than anyone else, it’s that Prime Minister Bang can’t afford a scandal.
Felix is a scandal in waiting. If anyone found out about him, the child he had in a
meaningless affair, the tabloids would rip Prime Minister Bang to shreds. He would have
Felix stamped out of existence well before that can happen.
“Maybe it’s not that he didn’t want you, maybe there’s another reason,” Chan tells Felix,
unable to deal with the look of dejection coming over his face. “We don’t know what
happened yet, but we will. I promise, I’ll find him.”
To his relief, a small smile comes back to Felix’s face.
“Do you have to go?” Felix asks, pouting a little at the thought of Chan going away for a few
weeks. “Can’t you send someone in your stead and stay here?”
“The only two people I could send, I sent one to Jeju Island and the other to Daegu, I am the
only other one who can go,” Chan sighs. “But I will be back as soon as possible. Maybe I can
even make some extra enquiries in Seoul - might be easier with the capital resources, you
never know.”
The thought brings a brighter smile to Felix’s face and Chan is glad for it. If he never has to
suffer the sight of Felix being sad, he’ll do anything.
“In the meantime, be good. Learn from Seungmin and Minho - don’t be afraid to ask for help
if you don’t know what to do. That’s what they’re there for,” Chan advises as he starts
cleaning his desk up.
“About Hyunjin…” Felix says.
It’s just the start of a question but already the tone of his voice sends a shiver right down
Chan’s spine. He looks up to see the beginnings of a blush appearing on Felix’s face and his
immediate thought is ‘oh god no.’
“What about him?” he asks, a little reluctant to find out what that blush on Felix’s face
means.
“Well...he’s insanely pretty,” Felix continues, averting his eyes a little out of shyness.
Chan can see it clear as day but something in his head is still praying it’s not what he thinks it
is. He sets his work aside and leans forward.
“Um, Fe, I’m just...gonna ask you...one thing.”
“Mm?” Felix looks up, that blush is still there.
“Are you crushing on Hyunjin?”
It’s a blunt question. It has to be. Chan neither has the time nor the will to beat about the bush
about this. He doesn’t even know Felix’s preferences but he can read enough signals to gather
that Hyunjin’s looks have most definitely affected him.
At first Felix looks a little alarmed but after a moment of thinking about it, he slowly nods.
“Yeah...probably. He’s really pretty,” he admits quietly. “I haven’t had the chance to really
talk to him much since we started but...yeah…”
Chan bites his lip, his mind whirring a thousand miles an hour as he tries to think of the best
way to word this.
“Okay...I’m not gonna be here for the next few weeks but if I could just say one thing. Just
one thing before I leave,” Chan says, looking right into Felix’s eyes. “There’s no clause in
your contract that stops employees dating each other and I have no problem with anyone’s
sexual orientation but please, Felix, anyone but Hyunjin. You can date anyone, anyone but
him.”
Felix frowns. “Why not?”
“Trust me on this,” Chan tells him, his tone strangely serious. “I’m trying like hell not to
sound like an overprotective dad here but please stay away from him.”
“Bit hard to do that when I work with him,” Felix points out, a little annoyed. “What’s wrong
with him?”
“Nothing’s wrong with him, I just-”
“Chan, I’m not even talking about dating I just like him, that’s all and if nothing’s wrong with
him-”
“Trust me on this,” Chan begs. “Anyone but him. Where you can, try not to go anywhere
near him.”
Felix looks confused and Chan can’t blame him but he can’t exactly tell him why. Minho
figuring out that Hyunjin isn’t innocent of his charges is one thing, Felix is another. Felix
doesn’t know what’s under the restaurant in the freezer, Felix doesn’t know that most of them
are murderers - Felix doesn’t even know that Hyunjin is infamous because of his father, Felix
hasn’t been around.
Chan can’t tell him. Not yet.
“I will be back as soon as I can,” Chan promises. “In the meantime, please. Please, please,
please I am begging you, stay away from Hyunjin.”
“Mind if I sit with you?”
Hyunjin looks up from where he’d been sulking in the corner of the break room with his
phone. Lunch breaks are about 45 minutes and usually the others step out for a bit, go for a
walk, maybe find some lunch in a nearby convenience shop but Hyunjin has a set routine.
He goes to the breakroom, pulls out his phone and just sits there for 45 minutes. Felix has
been watching him.
It’s been two days since Chan left. Minho and Seungmin are the seniors in charge of the
restaurant for now and they’ve been brilliant. Minho has been training Hyunjin on the main
floor whilst Seungmin and Sungho have been keeping Felix up to speed with the kitchen
routine and the menu. It’s fairly easy to grasp.
Chan’s words, his plea keeps running through Felix’s mind and he can’t think of a single
reason why he should stay away from Hyunjin. In fact, if anything, Chan telling him not to
do it is exactly why he’s doing it. Curiosity is burning at him, he has to know why Chan is so
against Felix going near Hyunjin.
Hyunjin isn’t even trying. The black silk uniform and golden sash makes him look like
something out of a catalogue. Surreal and ethereally pretty - how the hell did Chan expect
anyone could stay away from him? Even Felix?
“You can sit anywhere if you want,” Hyunjin shrugs, his eyes flicking back to his phone.
Not entirely encouraging but Felix isn’t known for backing down right away.
“I’m Felix,” he says, plopping himself down in the seat next to Hyunjin. “I’m new here like
you.”
Hyunjin’s eyes don’t stray from his phone but he does nod.
Felix bites his lip and tries to think of something else to say. Something to get his attention
and it doesn’t help that he can’t form complex sentences in Korean yet. It’s frustrating when
he can so easily say something in English but he has to really think about it before he can get
the simplified version out in Korean.
His lack of language is hurting right now as he tries to focus on getting Hyunjin’s attention.
Then, as if reading his mind, Hyunjin puts his phone down and sets his eyes on Felix. Felix
feels his entire body freeze as Hyunjin speaks in English.
“We can talk like this if you want?”
Felix blinks, stunned and Hyunjin continues, albeit slowly. “I’m not good at English but I can
talk like this if you want. Talk slowly.”
Holy hell how did Chan expect Felix to stay away from this guy?
“I...where did you learn English?” Felix blurts, still a little stunned.
“American drug dealers,” Hyunjin deadpans and Felix can’t tell if he’s being serious or not.
Still, he’s glad for the fact that he seems to have Hyunjin’s attention now. It’s even harder to
focus now that the other is actually looking at him and already Felix can feel his ears and
cheeks burning.
“I noticed you don’t talk to the others that much,” Felix says, inching a little closer to
Hyunjin as he speaks. “Are you shy?”
“No,” Hyunjin shrugs. “I don’t like people.”
Felix snorts. “Well Seungmin doesn’t like people either but he talks anyway.”
There’s a look in Hyunjin’s eyes that kind of gives him away at the mention of Seungmin.
Felix had seen the same look in Seungmin’s eyes whenever Hyunjin is mentioned, whenever
he’s near and Felix picks up on it.
“Do you two know each other?”
Hyunjin averts his eyes this time. He seems to curl in on himself instinctively and Felix isn’t
good at Korean but he is good at reading people. There’s history between Seungmin and
Minho just as there’s history between Hyunjin and Seungmin. He doesn’t know them well
enough to ask but he can see it.
“Used to,” Hyunjin finally admits quietly. “Not anymore.”
There’s a wall there, one Felix doesn’t pry open. He knows better.
“Well...maybe we can play a game. Make this place a little warmer, you shouldn’t sit by
yourself all the time like this. Maybe you might like one of the others, if not Seungmin then
maybe Minho?”
Hyunjin snorts. “Minho doesn’t trust me.”
“Okay, then maybe Sungho?”
“Sungho’s a dick,” Hyunjin shoots him down almost immediately.
“Let’s play a game anyway, it’ll be fun,” Felix suggests with a big grin.
The look on Hyunjin’s face tells him that Hyunjin is seriously doubting him but he doesn’t
shoot him down. He doesn’t get up and walk away, instead he looks at Felix and raises an
eyebrow.
“What game?”
“I call it the claiming game,” Felix tells him, recalling a game he used to play at school when
he was way too bored and had too much time on his hands. “It’s really simple. We go around
the restaurant claiming people, whoever has the most people wins. The rules are that the
people you claim have to actually agree to be claimed which means you have to charm
them.”
Hyunjin winces like Felix just described pure torture.
“Bet I can get more people than you.”
“I’ll bet you can, I don’t like people,” Hyunjin says. “Let’s just say you win this.”
“Come on, play with me,” Felix whines, much to Hyunjin’s quiet amusement. “I’ll even give
you a head start, you can try and claim Minho. I won’t go near him first.”
Hyunjin looks at him and Felix can swear the other is about to tell him to go fuck himself.
But a few minutes pass and finally, Hyunjin shrugs as he gets up to his feet.
“Alright,” he says. “I’ll play.”
“Great!” Felix beams, bouncing up to his feet as he grins at Hyunjin. “You won’t regret it,
you’ll make friends in no time. Just go up to Minho and ask if you can claim him, you can
tell him it’s just a silly game but it should break the ice.”
“Just go up to someone and ask if I can claim them,” Hyunjin summarises. “Is that how you
play?”
“Yeah,” Felix says, excited that Hyunjin even agreed to something so strange. “Whoever has
the most-”
Hyunjin’s arm slides around Felix’s small waist. Suddenly, Felix is pulled right into him,
chest to chest and his breath hitches at his throat. Suddenly Hyunjin is so close, that face and
those eyes are so close, Felix can’t breathe. Hyunjin’s arm around his waist is warm and tight,
allowing no opportunity for escape as Hyunjin holds his gaze.
“Can I claim you?” Hyunjin asks.
The words are innocent, the way he says them most definitely is not. Felix is suddenly
acutely aware of where Hyunjin’s hand on his waist is, his senses hone in on every hard press
of Hyunjin’s body against his and the other is stronger than he looks. It’s almost enough to
weaken Felix’s knees.
Before he can even think to stutter out an answer, Hyunjin smiles and lets him go. Felix looks
up to see the other sauntering towards the door to get back to his shift.
“Let’s play then, Felix,” Hyunjin says as he lets himself out.
Felix doesn’t breathe until he’s sure Hyunjin is gone.
Despite the confidence Hyunjin displayed in ‘claiming’ Felix, he actually proves to be

horrendously bad at this game.
But it does work in its primary objective and when Felix sees Hyunjin talking to Minho, he
feels somewhat accomplished. It does what it’s meant to do and breaks the ice because when
Hyunjin mentions claiming, Minho starts laughing.
“A claiming game?” he giggles, wandering into the kitchen in search of Felix. “Lix, you’re a
genius. Having Hwang Hyunjin come up to me and ask if he could claim me goes down in
one of the funniest things I’ve seen in the last month.”
“Did you let him?” Felix asks, curiously looking up from where he’s crumbing chicken.
“Fuck no, I’m not that easy,” Minho chuckles. He slides past Felix and pats his shoulder.
“I’m all yours, baby Lix.”
Felix catches sight of Hyunjin through the window. The other doesn’t look annoyed or put
out, instead there’s a strange look in his eyes that makes Felix feel very seen. Naked before
him. He looks down for just a second and when he looks up again, Hyunjin is gone.
He shivers, wondering how on earth Chan thought he could stay away from someone like
Hyunjin. He’s never met anyone with a gaze like that. Strangely powerful but it feels like
Hyunjin can read him like an open book. Like, one gaze and he suddenly knows everything
Felix thinks, everything he’s feeling. It’s both a terrifying and exciting thought.
Somehow, despite losing Minho and despite thinking he’s a dick, Hyunjin manages to win
Sungho over.
It’s not actually that hard. Sungho is easily older than all of them and the second Hyunjin
approaches him about the game, Sungho mainly just agrees to get Hyunjin to go away from
him.
“He creeps me out,” Sungho later admits to Felix when he’s sure Hyunjin is out of earshot.
“Haven’t you seen the news about him?”
No. No, actually Felix wasn’t aware Hyunjin even made the news but before he can ask
Sungho about it, Minho cuts in.
“Don’t fill his head with that, it’s ancient history,” Minho says, one arm draping over Felix’s
shoulders. Felix can feel him subtly pulling him away from Sungho who looks a little
skeptical.
“Not that ancient.”
“Don’t listen to him, Lix,” Minho smiles as he gently pushes Felix back to his work station.
“We have a group reservation coming in any minute now, no more gossiping about
coworkers.”
Minho’s tone is light, even amused but Felix can catch the undertones just fine. That topic is
a minefield and Minho doesn’t want him standing on it.
Felix feels his curiosity peak and when he catches sight of Hyunjin again through the
window, he’s reminded of something his mother used to tell him and his sisters when they
were younger.
“Those butterflies in your stomach don’t mean you have a crush on someone. It’s a flight or
fight instinct. Don’t ignore those butterflies. They’re telling you to run.”
On the second day, Felix is approached by Seungmin. The look on his face is reserved, even a
little pained and it confuses Felix until the other speaks.
“So um, you’re playing that weird game with Hyunjin about claiming people?” he mumbles.
Felix grins. “It’s to get him to open up and talk to people. Did he approach you?”
Seungmin shakes his head. “He wouldn’t dare. Anyway, I’ll save him the trouble and you can
claim me.”
Felix tilts his head. Again, he gets the distinct impression that there is something between
Seungmin and Hyunjin. He doesn’t want to ask, he doesn’t know either of them well enough
to dig into their backstories but he can’t help but feel a little curious. After all, for the most
part Seungmin and Hyunjin don’t have to work together because one’s in the kitchen and the
other is on the main floor but every now and then, Felix notices it.
The way they look at each other, the way Hyunjin avoids going anywhere near Seungmin and
vice versa. It speaks more than either of them could.
“Okay, you’re mine then,” Felix smiles. “When the others get back, I’ll give Hyunjin a head
start in claiming them.”
“I think you’ve already got Chan,” Seungmin comments as they head for the work benches.
“And probably Changbin too, he couldn’t stop staring at you on your first day.”
“Really?” Felix beams, somewhat amused. He hadn’t really noticed Changbin at all on his
first day, he’d been too nervous to notice much of anything and it wasn’t long after he started
that Changbin had to leave for Jeju Island.
It’s a shame really, he didn’t get the chance to say hi. Maybe when he gets back.
“I think it’s admirable you’re trying to get Hyunjin to open up, I just think you should be a
little careful with him,” Seungmin says, his eyes a little reserved as he looks away. “He’s not
the type to ever open up to anyone. He keeps to himself.”
Felix stares and just like the other day with Sungho, he gets the distinct feeling there’s
something about Hyunjin he’s missing. Something everyone else seems to know already.
“Is there something wrong with him?” he asks.
Behind him he can hear Sungho coming in and he keeps his concerned gaze on Seungmin. In
his head he’s trying to reason to himself that Hyunjin can’t be all bad, Chan hired him after
all. Why would Chan hire someone dangerous?
“Not...exactly,” Seungmin says, still avoiding Felix’s gaze. “I just think that you should be
really careful around him. Don’t get too close to him, it’s all I’m saying.”
“Who’s this about?” Sungho asks, chucking his bag to the side as he walks into the kitchen.
Seungmin and Felix answer at the same time.
“No one.”
“Hyunjin.”
They exchange awkward glances and Sungho huffs.

“Not that psycho again,” he mutters as he heads to his station to start wiping down the
counters. “Let it go, Felix. Just ignore him.”
Felix frowns, he glances at Seungmin but the other is just shaking his head. Then Minho
walks in and they get to work, not another word about Hyunjin is spoken but Felix can feel it
festering in his head. Undying curiosity about the boy on the main floor. He’s dying to know
why the others avoid him, what made him this way, he wants to know what makes him tick
and it does not help that he’s insanely attracted to Hyunjin.
Sungho notices his distraction about an hour later and leans in to whisper: “If you really want
to know, google him. I dare you.”
He waits until his lunch break. It feels like he’s doing something forbidden as he heads into
the break room, finds a small corner and pulls out his phone to search Hyunjin’s name.
Immediately Hyunjin’s articles flood the search engine. In so many languages they detail
what happened in meticulous detail. Felix flicks his eyes over the English articles, some of
which are sympathetic to Hyunjin, others paint him as a demon. Korean articles are very
much the same, divided in how to portray him.
He killed his father, he killed another boy his age and the police found him sitting there
covered in blood and laughing almost hysterically. Some of the articles go on to say that what
happened with the response to Hyunjin actually illustrate something far more disturbing than
a murderous child - it revealed how the human race fell to its knees at the sight of a beautiful
person. How fast they were willing to forgive him for his pretty face.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?”
Felix’s soul almost leaves his body as he jumps out of his seat, clutching his phone to his
chest and staring wide eyed at Hyunjin, who happened to be leaning over the back of his seat.
Felix didn’t even hear him come in.
“I...uh…”
He wishes he could read Hyunjin. He can’t tell if Hyunjin already knows what he’d been
looking at or if he spoke before he could look. Hyunjin’s face tells him nothing, only dark
eyes that seem to strip him down, reading him like an open book, making him feel so fucking
naked in front of him.
It’s both unnerving and a little exciting.
“I was-”
“What are you doing tonight?” Hyunjin cuts in before he can try to explain himself.
Felix blinks in surprise and watches as Hyunjin pushes himself off the back of the chair and
saunters up to him. In his hands, his phone burns with the damning content on the screen and
he quickly uses the opportunity to shove it in his pocket.
“Tonight?”
Hyunjin nods.
Felix’s phone is burning. It’s telling him Hyunjin killed his father, he killed a boy, he was
found by the police but somehow he’s here right now in front of him. What happened to him?
Did he really…?
Butterflies. Hyunjin’s hand gently lifts and brushes Felix’s hair out of his eyes. Felix can feel
the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach as Hyunjin leans in a little closer, his hand
tracing along Felix’s face, down his neck to perch on his shoulder.
Run, they’re telling him and he can’t hear them.
Because all he can do is stare up at Hyunjin’s eyes. He has so many questions, so many
things he wants to ask him and in his head he can still hear Chan’s voice warning him not to
go anywhere near Hyunjin. Not just Chan but Seungmin too.
“Lix,” Hyunjin prompts, his hand gently squeezing Felix’s shoulder. “Come play with me.”
Felix doesn’t know what possesses him to say yes but he nods and that’s the end of that.
Hyunjin has a motorcycle.
It kind of figures that he does, considering it goes with his overall look. In the most cliche
way, Hyunjin is like one of those leather jacket badboys with the bike that every mother
warns their lovestruck sons and daughters away from.
“Don’t you have a helmet?” Felix asks as he hitches his bag up on his shoulder and
approaches the bike warily. He’s never been on one.
Hyunjin’s smile is almost demonic as he climbs on. “Where’s the fun in that? Hop on and try
not to fall off.”
What an invitation. Felix can practically hear his mother screaming all the way from
Australia as he climbs up onto the bike and tries to steady himself on the seat. It unnerves
him that his feet can’t touch the ground and when he takes too long, Hyunjin’s hands come
back to grab his and force them around his waist.
“You could hold onto the bar behind you but that wouldn’t be much fun,” Hyunjin says as he
starts the bike. “Hold onto me.”
Felix’s fingers intertwine, his face pressing into Hyunjin’s back as he clings. He can feel the
power of the bike vibrating through his entire body and it’s all he can do not to scream as
Hyunjin kicks the brake off and shoots out of the car park.
The wind whips his hair back from his face, the street lights blur past his vision as the bike
rides through the Busan streets. Felix can’t tell if Hyunjin is speeding or not, it all feels too
fast. His fingers are almost ripping at Hyunjin’s jacket, clinging for dear life until they finally
come to a slow stop at a red light.
“Lix,” Hyunjin calls over the rumble of the engine.
“Yeah?”
“Open your eyes, baby. You should see the view.”
The pet name sends a shiver through Felix’s body. Cautiously, he opens his eyes and he can
see the city around them. The cars in the next lane, the park beyond them, the footpath, the
people wandering the streets at night. It’s a view he’s never seen from the road before and it’s
more peaceful than he remembers.
Then Hyunjin kicks the bike into gear and Felix screams as they speed through the green
light and onwards into the city.
Felix clings, his fingers holding Hyunjin’s jacket as tightly as he can.
“Where are we going?” he tries to call over the whip of the wind. When Hyunjin doesn’t
answer, he tries again. “Where are we going?!”
“You’ll see,” Hyunjin calls back. “Hang on, baby.”
There’s the baby again, Felix shivers and he can swear Hyunjin notices.
The ride is approximately twenty minutes. They leave the lights of the city and Felix notices
it when they head into a more residential area. He peeks up from Hyunjin’s shoulder,
watching as Hyunjin drives them further and further away from the safety of the lights and
deeper into the quieter areas.
Finally he stops in front of a small house. Felix looks up to see the lights aren’t on, the tiny
front garden is overgrown with weeds and dead plants. No one’s taken care of this area in
years. The house itself is small but poorly maintained with some windows blocked with
boards and broken windows.
Hyunjin gets off the bike first and takes Felix’s hand to help him off as well.
“Where are we?” Felix asks, something creeping up his spine as he looks up at the house.
Something’s gone wrong here, he can feel it.
Hyunjin tugs on his hand and reluctantly, Felix follows him down the driveway towards the
house. It’s dark all over, not a sliver of light as Hyunjin leads him to the front door and opens
it - it wasn’t even locked.
“Hyunjin,” Felix speaks, trying not to let his voice give away how scared he is. “Where are
we?”
Hyunjin doesn’t take his shoes off at the entryway and so Felix doesn’t either. He follows,
hand growing clammy in Hyunjin’s hold as they head deeper into the quiet, dark house. No
one lives here but there’s still furniture. Old, unused furniture, all with a fine coat of dust
overtop.
He’s led into a bedroom and Felix gasps when he sees the stains on the floor and in the
blankets. Dark stains and the remnants of yellow police tape.
“Hyunjin….”
“I was in the middle of fucking someone when my father came in,” Hyunjin tells him, almost
nonchalantly. “I had a thing for fucking guys in his bed, mostly because I knew how much he
hated it. It almost made the beatings worth it.”
Felix stares in horror at the room, the words from all those articles rushing back to him and
he tries to pull his hand out of Hyunjin’s hold but Hyunjin won’t let him.
“My father had a thing for beating me whenever he was drunk but that day...that day he hated
me more than usual. Used to call my mother a whore, told me I took after her and couldn’t
belong to him. He hated me.”
“Hyunjin, why are we here?” Felix asks, no longer caring how his voice sounds. He’s scared.
“Do you know how long I’d been wanting to kill him?” Hyunjin goes on, completely
ignoring Felix as he stares at the dark room. “How many times I’d imagined his death? So
when I finally had his head in my hands, when I finally felt his blood between my fingers...it
couldn’t compare. It’s the greatest high I’ve ever experienced.”
Felix manages to yank his hand out of Hyunjin’s grip. He stumbles back against the wall and
stares at the room in pure terror. The articles were true, Hyunjin had killed his own father and
this was where he’d done it. Felix’s feet rush him towards the front door, breath catching in
his throat in a frantic rush to escape but before he can even reach the door, a hand grabs his
arm and slams him into the wall.
Felix screams, his hands scrabbling to grab something, anything but he can find nothing
before Hyunjin grabs both his wrists and pins them behind himself. He pushes Felix chest
first into the wall and leans in behind him.
“Isn’t this what you wanted to see?” Hyunjin hisses in his ear. “That’s why you were looking
me up, wasn’t it? You wanted to see the truth, well here it is. I’m a fucking murderer, are you
satisfied?”
“Let me go!” Felix sobs, his cheek pressing painfully into the wall. “This isn’t what I-”
“Isn’t it?!” Hyunjin snaps and Felix yelps. Bony, pointy fingers are digging into his wrists
and it hurts. “You’re like everyone else, you either want to save me or you don’t want to
believe that I could do such a thing, well take a good fucking look! Take some fucking
pictures!”
“I don’t...I don’t want this!” Felix screams. “That wasn’t why I-”
“Do you have any idea how many people tried to visit me while I was in prison? How many
people wanted to see my face and save me because they had this fantasy in their head that
they could change me? Show a pretty face and watch the human race fall to their fucking
knees!”
“That’s not why I was looking you up!” Felix screams, he can’t move an inch, Hyunjin has
him in too tight of a hold. “It’s not! I swear!”
“Are you scared of me?” Hyunjin asks. “Are you afraid? You should be because do you know
how fast I can snap a neck?”
Felix is sobbing, he’s shaking so hard and when he feels Hyunjin’s hands around his neck, he
really does think it’s over.
But then Hyunjin let's go, he steps back and Felix crumples to the floor, a sobbing, heaving
mess of tears. He wants to run but his legs won’t move, he wants to scream but his lungs
won’t let him. His fingers grab for any kind of purchase on the dusty wooden floor but all he
can do is leave clean marks where they wipe the dust away.
When he looks up, it’s no better. Hyunjin is standing in front of him, looking down at him
and even now he looks like some sort of Greek god. Perfect and terrifying all in one.
Felix’s breath hitches in his throat and he shakes his head, tears and all. “I’m sorry,” is all he
can breathe. “I’m not like the others, I don’t want to save you. I didn’t know.”
“How did you not know?” Hyunjin huffs in disbelief. “I’m pretty sure I made headlines
overseas too.”
“I didn’t know,” Felix assures him. “I had no idea. But then I was told to google you because
everyone else knew and I...I’m sorry. I really didn’t know.”
Hyunjin stares at him a little longer and for a moment, Felix is sure the other is going to lean
down and snap his neck like he threatened. Instead Hyunjin shakes his head and crouches
down. He grabs Felix’s arm, pulling him up to his feet and leading him into the living room.
The lights don’t work. The electricity has long since cut off but Hyunjin doesn’t pay it much
attention as he drops Felix onto the couch and crouches in front of him to examine his arm.
It’s not until Felix looks down that he notices the small marks Hyunjin’s hand had left, it’s
going to bruise.
“Hyunjin-”
“What are you doing here, Felix?” Hyunjin asks as he takes his phone out to shine a light on
the mark he’d left.
Felix blinks at him. “I...you took me here.”
“No, not here. In the restaurant,” Hyunjin replies as he sets the phone aside and looks up at
him. “What are you doing working there? If you’re as innocent as you claim, you shouldn’t
be working there.”
“I…” Felix frowns. “I don’t understand, what do you mean?”
Hyunjin huffs. “It was Chan who paid for my lawyer. Chan who made sure I got away with
murdering two people. Chan, who put me in that restaurant and he still hasn’t told me why
but I’m going to go ahead and guess that his motives are less than savoury. So what are you
doing there?”
Felix blinks. He can’t believe it. It just occurs to him now that if Hyunjin really had murdered
his father, he shouldn’t be here. He should be behind bars. So did Chan really use his power
to get a murderer out? Why?
“I..I just came here from Australia and met Chan by pure chance. He offered me a job and I
needed the money so…” Felix shrugs. “I trust Chan.”
“I don’t,” Hyunjin mutters darkly. “I still don’t know what he wants from me and it’s not like
I can just disappear, he’ll find me.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want anything from you. Maybe he just wanted to give you another
chance.”
“Maybe he’s not as innocent as you clearly think he is.”
They stare at each other. Felix bites his lip and he doesn’t want to admit that Hyunjin might
be right. That Chan had other motives for getting someone off charges he knew they were
guilty for. He doesn’t know Chan well enough, it hasn’t been that long but he’s felt a strange
connection with him ever since he met him. Chan had gone out of his way to help him, he
can’t be a bad guy.
“Chan is helping me find my father,” Felix states. “I came to Korea looking for him and Chan
is helping me find him.”
Hyunjin’s face is unreadable again. It’s only now that Felix is aware that Hyunjin is still
holding his arm, his grip a lot gentler as he keeps the arm out to show the marks he’s left on
Felix’s skin. His touch is warm and Felix can hear his heartbeat in his ears as his face heats
with another blush.
What is wrong with him? Hyunjin just admitted to murder, he was slamming Felix into the
wall not two minutes ago and now Felix is feeling flustered just at his touch? He ducks his
head and looks away. He should leave, he should take his arm out of Hyunjin’s grip and leave
but his legs won’t move. Not because they’re scared but because he doesn’t want to.
“Why did you start talking to me, Felix?” Hyunjin asks.
Felix’s breath comes in short. Hyunjin saying his name is doing things to him.
“I…”
“You could have left me alone like the others did. I wouldn’t have cared, I’m used to being
alone. Why did you talk to me?”
Felix shakes his head. “It’s not in my nature to leave someone out,” he admits quietly.
“And…”
“And?”
Felix closes his eyes, he wills the ground to open and swallow him whole but it doesn’t. Still
the truth leaves his lips like a secret he can’t keep in.
“I’m drawn to you and I don’t know why,” he admits quietly.
There’s a moment of silence. Felix doesn’t dare look at Hyunjin for fear of what he’ll see.
He’s just admitted he’s drawn to a killer, his mother would be screaming at him. So would
Chan for that matter. But still Felix’s heartbeat is so loud in his ears, he can feel it thumping
through his entire body and he feels hot as a hand cups the side of his face.
Startled, his eyes fly open to see Hyunjin much, much closer than he was before. His hand is
cupping the side of his face so tenderly. Too tenderly for a murderer but Felix can’t pull
himself away when he’s staring right into Hyunjin’s eyes.
Felix isn’t sure who leans in first but his eyes flutter shut when he feels the first push of
Hyunjin’s plush lips against his own.
Something in the back of Felix’s head is trying to remind him where he is. Remind him who
Hyunjin is and the fact that he’s so dangerous but Felix can’t hear it. Instead all he does is
sink his fingers into Hyunjin’s hair and kiss him back.
When Hyunjin pulls away, Felix is breathless. His eyes lidded, almost dazed as he keeps his
hands in Hyunjin’s hair to keep him close.
Hyunjin looks a little out of breath as well.
“Okay, Felix,” he says. “I believe you.”
-
They’re not a thing. Not in the most conventional sense anyway.
It’s always been strange to Felix, the idea of relationships. Back in Australia, when his
friends were dating, there was always that awkward beginning stage where neither party were
ready to admit this was a thing but neither were willing to pull away from it either. Stolen
kisses, glances, quick touches, they’re not dating but they’re not exactly not dating either.
That’s why Felix always liked the word ‘courtship’. To him, it described that strange in-
between phase. The fluttering of two people hovering near each other but not too close
because they haven’t made up their minds yet.
He describes his relationship with Hyunjin as a ‘courtship’ because he doesn’t have another
word for it. Hyunjin isn’t his boyfriend, he’s not sure he’s ready for that leap just yet but
during their free time, they see each other. It’s strange, he knows Hyunjin is no virgin but he
is and it must be obvious because Hyunjin doesn’t push him. The idea of relationships isn’t
that scary but going too fast is and Hyunjin doesn’t take the lead, instead he waits for Felix to
do so.
Shy kisses are almost always initiated by him, Hyunjin seems comfortable enough just being
near.
Chan would be so disappointed but Felix can’t ignore the strange flutter in his stomach when
Hyunjin looks at him.
He’ll admit to some curiosity too, he’s dying to know more about Hyunjin. What makes him
tick, what his favourite colour is, what he wanted to be when he was a boy (if his father
didn’t stamp out that part of every child that consists of a dream). There’s a part of him that
wants to be the only one who knows these secrets.
“Red,” Hyunjin tells him one day when Felix asks. They’re in the park again, there’s a nice
park near God’s Menu. The pathway is lit up with lamp posts but the grassy areas are just
relaxing. If one were to lie down, they’d see the sky through the rustling leaves of the trees
hanging above them.
It’s Felix’s favourite place to lie down.
“Red?” Felix repeats, his hand petting Hyunjin’s hair back from his face. “That’s your
favourite colour?”
“I like red,” Hyunjin shrugs. He’s using Felix’s stomach as a pillow and staring up at the sky
with him. He’d thought the idea of stargazing odd when Felix first suggested it but there is a
strange sort of calm in doing so.
“Mine’s yellow,” Felix says and Hyunjin starts laughing.
“Not surprising,” he chuckles. “You remind me of a baby chick.”
Felix playfully smacks Hyunjin’s head and looks up at the sky. He can’t see stars here, the
city is too bright but he likes to imagine he can. They’re up there somewhere and a shooting
star might make his wish come true.
Felix starts introducing things to Hyunjin. Like stargazing, opening up to him, talking about
the smallest things. It’s almost as though a part of him is trying to find coping mechanisms
for whatever anger fit had made Hyunjin kill his father in the first place.
He does suggest meditation at some point but Hyunjin tells him to fuck off.
In turn, however, Hyunjin starts introducing things to Felix too. He must have noticed that
Felix is still a little out of place in Busan - especially without Chan to help him out. Felix’s
picks for what they should do together are usually calm and peaceful - Hyunjin’s suggestions
are anything but.
“You’re gonna drive my bike today,” Hyunjin tells Felix one night after work is over.
Felix blinks at him like he’s gone insane. “...excuse me?”
“My bike,” Hyunjin digs his keys out of his pocket and chucks them at Felix. “You’re
driving.”
“I don’t know how to drive!” Felix squeaks.
“So? I’ll teach you,” Hyunjin tells him. He reaches one hand out to grab Felix’s shoulder and
pull him towards the waiting motorcycle.
Felix stares at the vehicle in terror, barely noticing how Hyunjin’s hands slide down to hold
his waist as he presses himself up against his back.
“What are you afraid of?” Hyunjin whispers in his ear, making him shiver. “Live a little,
Lix.”
Live a little. Felix takes a deep breath and shakes his head. Hyunjin’s going to be the fucking
death of him but he can’t help but feel a little excitement at the thought of driving. It’s almost
like Hyunjin is telling him to let go, take the brakes off, stop being such a timid newbie and
embrace his wilder side.
He climbs onto the bike and with Hyunjin’s instruction, he turns the engine on. The bike
roars to life, the vibration between his legs sends a dizzying rush of adrenaline through him
and when Hyunjin’s arms slide around his waist, Felix feels a new thrill as he kicks the
brakes off and sends them flying out of the car park.
The front wheel of the motorcycle veers dangerously to the left of the road and Hyunjin has
to grip Felix’s waist tight, cursing in his ear as Felix struggles to keep the bike on the road -
it’s harder than it looks.
“Fucks sake, Felix, you’re gonna get us both fucking killed!” Hyunjin shouts over the wind
whipping past both their ears.
“You’re the worst driving instructor ever!” Felix shouts back but he’s laughing.
Despite the obvious danger of the situation, he’s having a fucking ball. He’s never felt so
alive. The adrenaline is pumping hot through his veins and he’s getting high off it. He feels
invincible even as the bike careens at high speed through the motorway, passing honking cars
and pissed off drivers, Felix hollars into the wind as he pushes the accelerator as fast as it can
go.
Behind him, Hyunjin is clinging to him. He’s not afraid - he doesn’t care enough about his
own life to fear for it. Best case scenario, Felix crashes and they both die instantly, painlessly,
there are worse ways to go. The night sky whirls past them, lights of cars too fast to catch, the
wind whips at both of them and neither care.
Until Hyunjin leans in behind Felix and presses a kiss to the back of his neck. He feels the
other stiffen in his arms and drags his lips from the back of Felix’s neck to his shoulder. His
hands start to move from where they were gripping Felix’s waist to feel along his stomach.
One hand dips down to grip his inner thigh and he can hear Felix choke.
“You’re gonna make me crash,” Felix manages to yell over the deafening wind.
“So crash,” Hyunjin goades.
What a fucking metaphor it is for their relationship, Felix realises. Hyunjin waltzes right into
his life, takes the brakes off and whispers in his ear until he crashes. It’s all he’s been doing
since the moment they met and it’s dizzying. He’s dizzying. Every word that slips from his
lips, his voice sends Felix’s mind spinning until he can’t tell which way is up anymore.
Felix manages to hit the brakes just as they reach a stretch of road with paddocks on either
side. Hyunjin squeezes his inner thigh and Felix gasps, the bike veering off the road and onto
the grass.
Felix grits his teeth, his hands are gripping the front brakes as the bike rolls uncontrollably on
the grass. He’s screaming but, unbelievably, behind him Hyunjin is laughing. The psychotic
prick is actually laughing as the bike swerves out of control.
They’re thrown right off, Felix feels himself flying in the air for a few split seconds before he
finally lands hard on the grass. Instinctively he curls in on himself as his body skids along the
grass before finally coming to a stop.
Somewhere in the distance, the bike skids right into a tree with a loud bang that echoes along
the paddock. Felix is breathing hard as he pulls his face up from his hands and looks around.
In the darkness, he can see flames. The bike is in fucking flames and it’s setting the tree on
fire as well. Right now he’s a little too shocked to really feel any pain on his body though he
can tell he at least has a few bruises.
Then laughter. Manic laughter coming from nearby. Felix blinks and sits up in time to see
Hyunjin crawling towards him. He’s covered in dirt, mud, grass stains and there’s a cut on his
head but he’s still laughing.
“You fucking psycho!” Felix screams at him.
For lack of better things to throw, he grabs a clump of grass and throws it at Hyunjin’s face.
“We could have died! The bike is on fire, we could have died, you psycho!”
Adrenaline is still coursing through his veins, making him hyper aware of everything. Of the
way Hyunjin crawls towards him, the way his blood feels like it’s on fire. He’s still panting
when Hyunjin reaches him and pushes him down to lie on his back. He leans over him,
beautiful...too beautiful...and his hand brushes Felix’s hair out of his face.
“That was fun,” Hyunjin says. “We lived, didn’t we?”
Felix can’t believe him.
“You’re a fucking psycho,” he breathes and he doesn’t know why but his temperature is
soaring with every touch. Every time he sees that stupidly beautiful, psychotic face, his heart
beats a little harder, his temperature is skyrocketing and it’s all he can do to grab the back of
Hyunjin’s neck and yank him down for a kiss.
Nothing else matters, not in that moment. Felix’s lips take greedily and Hyunjin gives as
good as he gets. Suddenly Felix wants him all over, he pulls him down to lie on top of him
and twists one leg over Hyunjin’s in a bid to keep him down.
Luckily Hyunjin gets the hint because his lips start taking more, his tongue slipping along
Felix’s as hands slide down his body.
Felix is drunk on adrenaline and Hyunjin. He feels like he’s burning and he can’t recall a
single instance where he’s wanted someone else so badly. Those butterflies are still raging in
his stomach, his fingers dig into Hyunjin’s hair and he wants more, he wants all of him-
“Hey!”
They both pull away from each other, looking up to see a distant figure of a man standing on
the side of the road. He’d obviously pulled over when he saw the flames.
“You two okay?”
Felix doesn’t know why but he starts giggling. His hands are still in Hyunjin’s hair, his legs
still wrapped around Hyunjin’s waist and he hides his face when Hyunjin answers.
“Fuck off!”
He hears the indignant choke, the man hardly able to believe Hyunjin is being so rude when
he’d just asked out of concern. Felix would feel more worried about it but he’s so distracted
by Hyunjin lying on top of him that he can barely focus on anything else.
Hyunjin looks down at him. “Let’s go back to mine.”
“On what? I just crashed your bike,” Felix points out, he can’t tell if he’s just giddy from the
kissing or if he’s actually in shock about the whole thing and he’s going to have a panic
attack about it later.
“We’ll uber,” Hyunjin says as he gets up and helps Felix up onto his feet.
It’s not until Felix tries standing on his left foot that a sharp pain shoots right up his leg. Felix
screams and grabs Hyunjin’s shoulder before he can fall.
“Ah, looks like you did hurt something,” Hyunjin observes.
“Fuck,” Felix hisses. “I think I broke my ankle.”
“No, you’d have noticed that sooner. At best, you sprained it,” Hyunjin points out.
Before Felix can protest about it or even see it coming, Hyunjin leans down and scoops Felix
up with one arm under his knees, the other holding his back. He hoists him up in a princess
carry and starts walking towards the road.
“Hey!” Felix splutters. “Put me down, I can hop!”
“We’re taking an uber to the hospital instead,” Hyunjin tells him. He completely ignores
Felix’s request and continues carrying him towards the road. “Chan will kill me if he finds
out I sprained your ankle.”
Felix laughs. “You don’t strike me as the type to care about pissing Chan off.”
“I’m not but it’s a hassle I’d rather not have to deal with if I can help it,” Hyunjin shrugs. “Sit
tight, princess. Pray you don’t need a cast.”
It’s almost three in the morning when Hyunjin takes Felix home. They’d spent an unusually
long time in the waiting room of the hospital. Once the nurses found out the bone wasn’t
actually broken, Felix got knocked down the waiting list and they ended up sitting there for
quite a while.
Felix yawns as he hops in, he’s using Hyunjin’s shoulder to keep himself up as he keeps the
door open and takes off his one shoe.
“You coming in?” he asks, looking up to see Hyunjin looking uncharacteristically awkward at
the door.
“You sure you want me to?”
Felix nods, he reaches out to take Hyunjin’s hand and drag him inside so he can close the
door behind him.
“It’s three in the morning, we’re both tired and I have a double bed. Sleep over,” Felix offers.
“Besides, I have to take these painkillers and I could do something stupid like pass out in the
hallway. You should babysit me since you’re essentially the reason my ankle is sprained.”
Hyunjin shoots him a dull look but he seems to catch the bait because he takes his shoes off
and reaches for Felix. This time Felix voices no protests as Hyunjin picks him up and carries
him down the hallway towards his bedroom.
“First door on the right,” Felix says, reaching out to open the door so Hyunjin can carry him
in. “I have spare pyjamas but I think you’re a little bigger than me. Might not fit. You might
have to sleep naked.”
He’s teasing but he’s not prepared for the almost predatory smirk Hyunjin gives him as he
plops Felix down onto the bed and leans over him.
“Trust me,” Hyunjin says. “You’re not ready for that.”
He turns around and heads out of the room, presumably to use the bathroom and Felix can
feel his face burning.
Holy fucking shit, did he just agree to share a bed with Hyunjin? Did he just tease him about
stripping naked? Felix never knew he had such a death wish.
Felix rushes about the room, quickly changing into his pyjamas - a simple yellow t-shirt and
black shorts. He hops back to the bed just in time to see Hyunjin coming in. Felix’s cheeks
burn and he quickly climbs under the blankets, as if that will hide how nervous Hyunjin
makes him feel.
“I have extra shirts in that drawer over there,” he says, pointing to the far corner of his room
where most of his clothes are haphazardly stuffed in the drawers. “Excuse the mess, I don’t
usually have visitors.”
He thinks he sees a small amused smile on Hyunjin’s face before it disappears to his usual,
cold indifference.
Hyunjin picks out a shirt and Felix has to avert his eyes. He feels slightly awkward even
when Hyunjin comes to the bed and slides into the space next to him. Felix flicks the
lightswitch off and lies down and for a moment, all that he can hear is the sound of their
breathing and the distant traffic below his apartment block.
The room is doused in pitch black. Felix can’t see a thing but he is acutely aware of
Hyunjin’s warmth next to him. He can hear his own heartbeat hammering in his ears, the
hairs on the back of his neck and on his arms are standing on edge and he almost wants to
hold his breath.
In a moment of bravery, Felix turns onto his side so he’s facing Hyunjin. He reaches a gentle
hand out and touches Hyunjin’s arm. His fingers linger on the skin of his elbow before
tracing up to his shoulder and out onto his chest.
Is he asleep already? He’s not responding.
Feeling a little braver at the thought that Hyunjin might be unconscious, Felix squirms a little
closer to him and listens.
Hyunjin’s breathing is deep, almost calming. His chest rises and falls slowly with his
breathing. Under his shirt, just slightly, Felix can feel the soft thump of a pulse and almost
feels surprised that Hyunjin seems to have a heart at all.
His fingers move, questing slowly along his chest and up to his neck. All the while, Hyunjin
is still even as Felix’s fingers move up to his face, tracing his cheek, his jawline, his eyebrow
and the bridge of his nose. They stop at his fingers and Felix tests the grounds a little by
smoothing the digits of his fingers along the plush of Hyunjin’s lips.
Then Hyunjin’s lips move, pursing a little to kiss Felix’s fingers and Felix almost gasps.
Shit, he’s not asleep.
Before he can draw his hand back and splutter his apologies, Hyunjin turns towards him. His
hand is suddenly on Felix’s back, dragging Felix in and kissing him before Felix can stutter a
single word.
He swears he can feel his heart stop. He can feel his lungs refusing to take in air as he kisses
Hyunjin back and finds his hands already gripping the back of Hyunjin’s head. Hyunjin’s hair
is so soft and his hands hold Felix so tightly he’ll leave marks but Felix has never felt so
wanted before.
It’s a strangely powerful feeling. Especially over someone like Hyunjin.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he gasps when Hyunjin finally lets him breathe. “I really...I really like
doing this but…”
“But?” Hyunjin asks and Felix is quite glad the room is so dark, his face is probably the
shade of a tomato right now.
“But I...I’ve never…” Felix winces, now finding himself heinously inadequate in Hyunjin’s
arms. Here is a guy who has probably fucked around more than once and he’s a murderer and
Felix...well he’s happy he’s never killed anyone before but he’s also never slept with anyone
before.
“Okay, so we won’t,” Hyunjin promises him. He says it so easily that it takes Felix by
surprise.
“...really?”
“Yeah?” Hyunjin replies, mimicking Felix’s surprised tone. “What? I’m a murdering asshole
but I’m not into rape.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that...I just...you’re not gonna tease me for being a virgin or
something like that?”
There’s a moment of silence and Felix feels dumb. Dumb and inadequate and it’s not like
anyone’s ever made fun of him for it but he always felt so inadequate next to his friends back
in Australia. Back in school, when everyone was sleeping around with everyone, Felix never
wanted to. At first he used to tell himself he was just waiting for the right person but when
that never happened, he told himself he just didn’t want to and it was half true.
You can’t miss what you’ve never had after all.
But he felt like he was lacking something, insufficient, inexperienced, wide-eyed shy virgin.
To someone like Hyunjin, he is most definitely lacking but to his surprise, Hyunjin’s response
silences all the voices in his head that have berated him for years about being behind on
everyone else.
“So you’ve never done it before,” he feels Hyunjin shrug. “That’s no one’s business but
yours.”
Felix stares at the shadow of his figure in the darkness, he feels a flood of relief rush through
him and he takes a sharp breath. He doesn’t even realise he’s kissing Hyunjin again until his
lips are already on the other.
He takes the lead this time, a rush of emotion courses through him as he holds Hyunjin close
and takes the air straight from his lungs. Half of it is gratefulness that Hyunjin silenced the
doubts in his head, half just because he truly is attracted to him and he can’t help it. He hasn’t
been able to help it ever since he first saw Hyunjin in God’s Menu.
The kiss gets more heated than he realises as Hyunjin presses closer to him and Felix shifts
until Hyunjin is on top of him. It’s almost natural, the way Felix’s legs encase Hyunjin
between them, how his knees lock on either side of his waist. Hyunjin is stealing his breath
with his tongue, his hands are sliding gently down Felix’s body and all Felix can do is shiver
and hold onto him.
When he pulls back, gasping for air, Hyunjin’s warm lips start trailing down his neck. His
kisses have little bites to them, the occasional, gentle nip of teeth is enough to have Felix’s
breath hitching every time he feels the tiniest spark of pain turning almost immediately into
pleasure. His eyes flutter and when he feels Hyunjin’s hands sliding underneath his shirt, he
lets out a moan he didn’t even know he was capable of.
Hyunjin’s fingers map their way too easily around Felix’s body. Felix’s breath hitches, his
head tilts back as his body responds in ways he never dreamed of. Every tweak of his nipples,
every bite of lips, he’s paralysed with oversensitivity.
He doesn’t even realise Hyunjin is climbing down his body until he feels his wet mouth on
his chest.
“Oh god,” Felix gasps in English. His hand sinks into Hyunjin’s hair and he wants to
reciprocate but everything Hyunjin does is paralysing him.
When he finally feels Hyunjin’s hand pressing against the tent on his pants, Felix gasps
loudly. He hadn’t even realised he was so hard but he is, he’s straining against Hyunjin’s
hand and need is suddenly all he knows.
Then when Hyunjin lifts his head, Felix feels a rush slip through him at the sight. Hyunjin’s
eyes are wide and blown, his cheeks pink, lips puffy and hair a mess, he looks devastatingly
beautiful.
“Yes?” Hyunjin asks and somehow Felix knows he’s not asking for sex. It was quick but the
agreement that they’re not going there is rock solid.
Hyunjin’s hand presses down, fingers mapping the edges of Felix’s hardness and Felix can
barely think. His voice cracks and he sounds more desperate than he likes, he barely
recognises his own voice when he whispers “Yes,” so weakly.
He’d skipped this part back in Australia. Whilst all his friends were busy talking about dating
and sex and girls and boys, Felix had been somewhat preoccupied with studies and later with
finding his real father. He’s not prepared at all for the feeling of someone on his bare cock
and he barely has the time to breathe before Hyunjin works his pants off, strokes him twice
and closes his mouth over him.
“Holy Jesus fucking Christ….God!” Felix gasps, his back arching and head falling back onto
the pillow.
He can hear Hyunjin giggling around his cock and the vibrations are making his head swim.
“Oh now your Catholicism comes out,” Hyunjin teases. Felix would retaliate but then
Hyunjin’s mouth is back on him and he can’t breathe.
The room is suddenly too hot, the sheets underneath him are too hot, he kicks at the blankets
and reaches a hand down until he finds Hyunjin’s hair again. Hyunjin is relentless too, he’s
holding Felix’s hips down, working him so hard that Felix can barely breathe. All he can hear
in the darkness of the room is the sound of his hitched breathing mixed with the obscene
sounds of sucking.
Even in the idle moments when Felix had imagined having sex or doing anything of the sort,
he somehow managed to miss the fact that it would sound like this.
“Oh, god, Hyunjin let up,” Felix begs, his legs squirm and his hand tightens in Hyunjin’s hair.
“Let up, I’m gonna…”
But Hyunjin doesn’t and Felix shuts his eyes tight. He clenches his jaw, he tries his hardest to
hold it off but when he finally feels that blissful release his moan is lost in the room. It’s only
later, when he’s drenched in sweat and panting that he realises he’d shot into Hyunjin’s
mouth.
He’s never sat up so fast.
“Oh god, I’m sorry, I…”
Hyunjin is curled between his legs, an amused smile on his face and it takes Felix a moment
to realise what he’d done.
“...you swallowed?”
“I was thirsty.”
Felix can imagine that if he spends more time with this man, he’s going to lose his mind. He
doesn’t know what to say to that so instead he does the next best thing and leans in to press
another kiss to his lips. Cum or not, his entire body is still pulsing with pleasure.
They eventually end up lying back on the bed and sleep doesn’t come. Instead Felix uses the
entire night pressed against Hyunjin’s body.
They explore, they kiss until their lips bruise, they touch and the more they explore, the
braver Felix feels. They don’t have sex, he’s still not ready for that but as the morning breaks
over the skies, Felix relishes in the sound of Hyunjin’s sweet control breaking under his
hands and mouth. Hyunjin moans Felix’s name and Felix hasn’t heard anything so beautiful
in his life.
Felix’s mother calls him the next day sometime after noon. They both have the day off and
spend it sleeping so when Felix’s phone starts singing at the end of the bed, it wakes them
both up.
Up on melancholy hill there’s a plastic tree~
Hyunjin whines and covers his head with the pillow as Felix drags himself to the end of the
bed to fish his phone out of his pants where he’d left them last night. He pulls the offensive
phone out and answers it before the sound starts up again.
“Hello?”
“Finally!” her voice comes through. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you for hours!”
His mother. Felix suddenly sits up, wide awake and painfully aware how naked he is. Not just
him, Hyunjin is curled under the blankets but neither of them had bothered getting dressed.
Felix grabs the end of the blanket and pulls it up to cover himself, as though his mother can
see him through the phone.
He wouldn’t put it past her, the woman has eyes in the back of her head.
“Mum?” he asks, his voice still a little hoarse from sleep and all the moaning he’d done last
night. “What time is it over there?”
“We’re only ahead by two hours. You sound like you’ve been asleep, it’s already noon!”
Felix briefly pulls the phone away from his ear to check the time and sure enough, it’s just
past midday. He puts the phone back to his ear and glances at the lump on his bed that is
Hyunjin. He can only see an arm, the rest of him is hidden under the blanket and pillows.
“Uh...yeah I had a late night,” Felix manages to say. He’s always had trouble lying to his
mother so skirting over the truth is always the best option. “What’s up? Why are you
calling?”
“Can’t a mother check on her son?” she sighs. “Honestly, you’re as bad as your sisters. If I
don’t call, you never will. What makes it worse is that you’re in another country altogether!
You should at least think about how much of a heart attack you’re giving me whenever I
don’t hear from you and I imagine you in a ditch somewhere.”
Despite his awkward position, Felix can’t help but smile a little. She used to say that to him
and his sisters all the time. Whenever they were away for too long, if she didn’t hear from
them, she’d always imagine that ditch that every parent seems to imagine.
“I’m fine, mum,” he assures her. “Honestly, I’m better than fine.”
“Well I’m glad to hear it,” she tells him. “Come on then, tell me about your life. What are
you doing nowadays? How’s your friend? Chan? Or does he go by Chris?”
Felix sighs but he indulges her. His mother simply worries for him. He curls up on the end of
the bed and tells her all about Chan and the restaurant and his colleagues (tactfully skirting
over the fact that he’s been sleeping with one of them) and she regales him with stories of
what his sisters have been up to and apparently one of them got a boyfriend she doesn’t
approve of and she keeps praying that one day they’ll break up.
At some point, Hyunjin wakes up and lifts his head out from under the pillow. Bleary eyed,
hair askew and bites all over his shoulders, he sits up in bed and watches Felix talk to his
mother.
It’s almost one in the afternoon when Felix finally manages to start cutting the call off.
“Mum, I gotta go,” he tells her. “My phone is dying and I’ve got stuff to do this afternoon.”
“Okay but promise to call me again soon, please,” his mother says. “Your sisters, your father
and I miss you very much.”
Felix nods. His father. His step-father actually but the man who raised him, the man he
thought was his real father, is a decent man. He’s still his father to him and if Felix could just
be content with that, he wouldn’t have come to Korea in search of his birth father.
But for some reason, he couldn’t let it go. Thus here he is.
“I miss you guys too,” he says. “I’ll call, I promise.”
“I’m holding you to that mister,” his mother warns. “Bye baby.”
Finally she hangs up and Felix lowers the phone from his warm ear. He rubs at the lobe, only
now realising how much it aches and when he looks up, he sees a slightly amused smile on
Hyunjin’s face.
“Your mother?”
“How could you tell?” Felix grins, still rubbing at his ear. “She can talk for hours if you let
her. That was tame compared to what she’s usually like.”
Hyunjin shrugs and Felix watches him curiously. It seems a rather distant thing for him but
suddenly, Felix finds himself wanting to know.
“What’s your mother like?” he asks.
Hyunjin averts his eyes and Felix almost regrets asking. Almost as soon as he’d asked, he
sensed he’d crossed into sensitive territory but still, Hyunjin answers him.
“Never met her.”
Felix frowns and Hyunjin shrugs.
“I mean, I guess I must have met her when I was born, maybe. But I don’t remember her. The
only thing my father said was that she’d died the day I was born.”
“I’m sorry.”
Hyunjin shakes his head. “Can’t remember anything about her anyway. My father hated her,
he called her a whore, said she kept cheating on him...usually he’d tell me this shit whilst he
was kicking the crap out of me.”
On impulse, Felix reaches forward to find Hyunjin’s hand. He knows Hyunjin had killed his
father and he knows the reason but it’s still not easy to hear about it. He can’t even imagine
someone beating him the way Hyunjin’s father must have beat him. No one’s ever hit Felix
like that, not his parents, not his sisters, no one.
But Hyunjin...he can see it. Hyunjin is damaged and he makes no attempt to hide it. Driven
insane by his father’s abuse, no mother, no one close to him. It’s hard for Felix to relate to
him, he’s never known such a life but he feels sorry that Hyunjin does. No one deserves that.
Hyunjin lets him hold his hand for a few seconds but then he lets go and scratches his head.
He averts his eyes and Felix can tell, the subject of his mother is bothering him.
“I’m starving,” Hyunjin says. “Let’s find something to eat.”
And that’s the end of that conversation.
Over the next two days, Felix and Hyunjin fall into a comfortable enough routine. They go
back to work and Felix enjoys seeing Hyunjin zipping between tables when he has the free
time to look through the window. They never speak of Hyunjin’s mother again but Felix files
the information away in his head, a small piece of the puzzle that makes up Hyunjin’s psyche.
In idle moments, when he’s not distracted by him, Felix can hear his mother’s warnings
creeping up on him. The reality that Hyunjin actually killed someone - not just anyone, his
own father - feels like something that just can’t be true. Feels like something made up despite
the fact that Felix has every single scrap of evidence pointing to the contrary.
It’s just that when Hyunjin is kissing him or talking to him, or even just sleeping near him,
Felix cannot imagine Hyunjin ever killing someone.
It’s almost as though he’s in denial of the truth of it. He can’t imagine it, he doesn’t want to
imagine it.
Things change at the end of the week when Felix is working in the kitchen and hears the
doors open as usual. Unless he looks through the window, he can’t see the main room and the
customers can’t see him either but something is different about this customer because within
seconds, Minho comes through the double doors to the kitchen and grabs Felix.
“Wha-”
“No time to talk,” Minho tells him. “Seungmin, take over.”
It must be the urgent tone in his voice because for once, Seungmin doesn’t argue and instead
nods as Minho grabs Felix’s arm and forces him into the breakroom.
“Hyung, what?” Felix sputters as Minho pushes him through the door. “What’s wrong?”
“Stay in here and don’t come out until I come back for you,” is all Minho says before he
closes the door and leaves Felix in there.
Stunned, Felix stares at the door. At once, his brain has a million questions but no one to
answer them. He can’t even use his phone because it’s in his bag which is still in the kitchen.
He presses his ear to the door in an attempt to hear something, anything but all he hears is the
distant clink of the cutlery and pots in the kitchen and the music still playing in the break
room.
Perhaps it’s gut instinct, or perhaps undying curiosity but Felix holds his breath as he places
his hand on the doorknob and turns it slowly. It clicks quietly and he pushes it open just a
little to peek outside.
Down the end of the hallway, he can see the shadows of Seungmin and Sungho working
away in the kitchen. Distantly, he can hear the main room and the sound of Minho talking but
Felix can’t make out what he’s saying.
Just as he edges out of the break room, Felix sees the double doors to the kitchen open and
ducks out of sight in time to see a tall, well dressed man stepping into the kitchen. Felix
keeps the door ajar, just enough to watch this man look around the kitchen.
Minho appears behind him.
“As I said, sir,” he says, voice firm but polite. “Your son is actually in Seoul, I thought he had
told you that.”
Son? Chan? Felix frowns as he watches the man. That’s Chan’s father? The Prime Minister
himself?
He’s much taller than Felix had thought he’d be. He can see where Chan got some of his
rougher qualities from because his father is rather intimidating. He’s dressed in a suit that
probably costs three months rent for Felix’s apartment and there’s something...untouchable
about him. There’s also something very cold and distant about him and it feels kind of
familiar.
“He might have mentioned it,” Chan’s father says, his eyes taking in the sight of the kitchen
as Seungmin and Sungho stop their activities to bow briefly. “Forgive a man his curiosity,
when I told my son to open a business, I never had a restaurant in mind.”
There’s a strange look on Minho’s face. Almost as though he doesn’t believe what the man is
saying though Felix can’t imagine why. Felix doesn’t know enough about Chan’s father,
nothing more than what he’d seen on the news but surely the man can’t be bad if he raised
Chan?
Why would Minho hide him from Chan’s father?
He leaves again through the double doors and Felix catches the look Minho shoots
Seungmin. Exasperated and just a little bit afraid as he follows after him back to the main
room.
Felix ducks back into the break room and finds his curiosity burning. Something is off, he
can feel it. Call it gut instinct or simple deduction but his chance to find something, anything,
is right here. Felix looks around the room and spots the windows that lead to the parking lot
out back, he rushes for them and opens one as wide as it can go so he can climb out.
The sun is sweltering, the heat almost unbearable outside. Felix runs out into the parking lot
and spots a black car with two guards standing just beside it. That must be Chan’s father’s
car.
Right on cue, Felix spots Chan’s father coming out of the restaurant and he doesn’t even
think. He runs for him and right away, the guards are on him, grabbing him before he can get
anywhere near Prime Minister Bang.
“Sir, please!” Felix splutters, one arm being held back by one guard and the other holding
him still. Chan’s father stares at him with disinterest but Felix is determined. “My name is
Felix, I work here. I just wanted to ask you something!”
The man’s eyes must recognise the uniform Felix wears because after a moment, he nods and
the guards let Felix go.
“You work here, then?” he says, switching to English. It’s so sudden that Felix is actually
startled by it. Of course Chan’s father can speak English, he must have recognised that
Korean is still shaky with Felix and just switched naturally.
“I presume you’ve met my son, then?” he asks.
Felix nods. “Of course,” he says. “Chan has been very good to all of us. He’s a really good
boss, sir. You should be proud of him.”
He watches Chan’s father chuckle but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Not like it does with
Chan. He’s colder, scarier.
“My son is a very capable man, I raised him to be nothing less than that,” Chan’s father says.
“But I’m afraid I am short on time, did you have a question?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Felix can see Minho standing at the doorway of the restaurant.
He looks like a mixture of terrified and angry. Felix turns his gaze back to Chan’s father and
of all the questions he could ask, one comes to mind before he even really has time to think
about it.
“Have you ever heard of a company named Uisim Inc?”
Something in his eyes shift and that’s how Felix knows he hit the right subject. He does
know. Felix stares at him pleadingly. “Please sir, if you know anything…”
“How do you know of Uisim Inc?” Chan’s father asks. “That company must have sunk long
before you were even born.”
Something tells Felix not to tell the truth so instead he thinks of a lie on the spot.
“I’m actually a student,” he says. “I’m doing a paper about business and I’m trying to look
into why Uisim Inc went down but there’s not a lot of information on the subject.”
The lie sticks because Chan’s father nods. “Well...there wouldn’t be. One of the main reasons
Uisim Inc went down was because of it’s shitty admin. There are very few documents on the
company, no one kept a record of staff or meetings or anything. You chose a very difficult
company to research.”
“I only found out after I’d already picked my subject,” Felix lies with a half-convincing
chuckle. “But sir, how do you know about it?”
“Well I worked there,” the man says. “A very long time ago.”
“Oh?” Felix asks. “You weren’t in the admin, were you?”
“No, no,” Chan’s father laughs. “No, that was someone else. I was the head of directors.”
Felix freezes in place. Head of Directors. He stares at Chan’s father and in that split second it
hits him right between the eyes, like a bolt of lightning. That faded name on the business card
he has, the only person to occupy that position. The only clue he has to his real father is the
man who was the Head of Directors.
The very man who is standing right in front of him now, Prime Minister Bang.
“Well,” the man says. “If that’s all the questions you had, I really must be going. I have nine
more meetings to attend.”
He must not notice how shocked Felix is. Either that or he simply doesn’t care because he
leaves with his guards. Felix watches, stunned into silence as Prime Minister Bang climbs
into the car and is driven away. The car speeds out of the parking lot and it’s only when it’s
gone that Felix starts to breathe again.
Minho rushes towards him the second he has the chance.
“What did I tell you?!” he yells, grabbing Felix’s shoulder to make him look at him. “I told
you to stay out of sight! What the fuck, Felix!”
“Hey!” Hyunjin’s voice cuts in, his hand rips Minho’s grip off Felix’s shoulder. “Let him go!”
Felix wants to talk, wants to tell them that he only wanted to ask a question but he’s in shock.
All he can think is that Prime Minister Bang is his father. He has to be. Only one person
occupied that position and the man had no reason to lie.
But if he’s his father...then that means Chan…
“Hey, Lix,” Hyunjin says, his hands gentle on Felix’s shoulders, coaxing him to look at him.
“Hey, are you alright?”
“Chan’s gonna kill me,” Minho is ranting. “He’s gonna fucking kill me, he told me to keep
you out of sight and for fucks sake…”
Felix blinks, suddenly shaken out of his shock by Minho’s words.
“What do you mean Chan told you to keep me out of sight?” he asks. “Why?”
“Well I don’t fucking know but if he finds out you talked to his father, he’ll have a fit,”
Minho snaps back. “He told me to keep you out of sight. Why the hell didn’t you stay in the
break room!?”
Felix doesn’t understand. He’s not sure he wants to understand. He can barely come to terms
with the fact that not only had he met his real birth father but Chan had tried to keep him
from him.
“I need to think,” he says, turning on his heel to walk away.
He hears Minho calling after him. Not out of anger this time but concern but he can’t bring
himself to look back. He needs air, he needs to think, he needs to be alone.
Hyunjin finds him later.
Unable to bring himself to return to the restaurant, Felix spends the rest of his shift out in the
park near the restaurant. He sits on a park bench, his mind racing with what he’d just learnt
and try as he might, he can’t think of a good enough reason for why Chan would hide this
from him.
Is it because he doesn’t want Felix to know they’re related? Is it because Chan wants his
father to himself? Felix can’t guess, he doesn’t know nearly enough about him.
Funny that despite Chan being his first friend here and arguably his closest, he knows jack
shit about him.
It’s night when Hyunjin comes to him. He doesn’t speak, he just sits down next to him and
drops the bag Felix had left at the restaurant.
For a few minutes, they just sit in silence before Felix finally breaks it.
“Do I still have a job?”
“Yeah. Minho’s concerned, not angry,” Hyunjin answers. “He told me to tell you that if you
want to talk, he promises not to yell at you.”
Felix watches the park in front of them. Small blue glowing lights planted into the pathways
light the trees in an almost ethereal manner and he’s spent all afternoon watching the hue of
the skies turn dark. No matter how he tries to reason with what happened though, he just
can’t. Why wouldn’t Chan tell him about this? Why would he instead order Minho to keep
Felix away from his father?
Chan’s not going to tell him if he asks. Somehow Felix knows that Chan won’t. He doesn’t
know enough about him but he does know that Chan has secrets. As the son of the Prime
Minister, how can he not?
Is this why his mother went to Australia?
Hyunjin doesn’t ask. He doesn’t ask about what Felix talked about with Chan’s father and he
doesn’t ask if he’s okay. He just sits and waits until Felix’s mind comes to the inevitable
conclusion that he needs to know the truth. He needs to know and if Chan is not going to tell
him, then he has to find another way.
“You remember when I told you I came to Korea looking for my father?” he asks, breaking
the ice almost hesitantly.
Hyunjin looks at him. “Yeah?”
“I found him.”
Silence. Felix doesn’t look at Hyunjin for fear of what his reaction might be. He knows the
other connected the dots immediately, that all of a sudden, Felix’s reaction makes total sense
now.
Maybe some people would have asked for confirmation. Asked him if he was sure or
something but Hyunjin just turns back to the park and lets out a small breath.
“Well...shit.”
“Yeah,” Felix chuckles bitterly. “Shit.”
“Didn’t your mum tell you anything? Warn you?” Hyunjin asks. “I mean, I get that she’s in
Australia but surely she’d have figured out that the father of her son is the prime minister of
Korea.”
“She didn’t tell me anything,” Felix says. “Nothing. Every time I asked, she’d always brush
the subject off, she didn’t want me to know. Chan didn’t want me to know. But why? Why
would they keep me away from my birth father, this is the whole reason I came here, why
would Chan lie to me?”
He knows Hyunjin doesn’t completely trust Chan either but he’s kind of glad that Hyunjin
doesn’t give him an answer to his rhetorical questions. Amazingly, despite everything, Felix
still likes Chan enough not to suffer anyone saying anything bad about him.
He’s angry. He’s confused. He’s sad but mostly he just wants to know. He has to know.
“Is the restaurant closed?” he asks.
“Yeah, Minho closed it an hour ago,” Hyunjin nods. “Why?”
Felix turns to Hyunjin, he takes a deep breath and takes his hand.
“I know how to pick locks.”

-
Felix is paranoid enough to force Hyunjin to walk around the outside of the restaurant twice
in search of surveillance cameras. He checks the office area too but surprisingly enough,
Chan doesn’t seem to have any installed.
“Not surprising,” Hyunjin points out after his second walk around the restaurant. “He’s still
in the process of setting the other restaurants up. Surveillance cameras on this place probably
isn’t in place yet.”
“No, he has cameras in the kitchen,” Felix points out as he reaches into his hair for a clip and
crouches down in front of the doorknob to Chan’s office. “Particularly around the freezer.”
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “Sounds interesting.”
Felix inserts the hairclip and starts carefully jiggling it until he’s sure he’s pushed it under the
levers inside the lock. The chilly air of the night makes them both shiver as he carefully
works to pull the levers up enough to open the door.
Something is telling him this is wrong. He should trust that Chan actually had a good reason
for keeping his birth father from him. That Chan is trying to protect him but the angrier part
of him just wants to know. If Chan was protecting him, he should have done it better. There
was no need to lie to him, he could have just told him and then told him why he couldn’t go
near him.
The door gives way and Felix peeks inside but when no alarm starts blaring, he flicks the
light on and looks around.
“So this is the lion’s den, huh?” Hyunjin whistles, walking in after Felix and closing the door
behind himself. “What are we looking for then?”
“I don’t even know if it’ll be here but we need to find something...anything. I just want to
know why he kept me from his...my father. If there’s anything else about me that he knows
and I don’t, I need to know,” Felix says as he crosses over to the desk and starts looking
through the drawers. “Chan knew I was here looking for my father and there’s no way he
didn’t realise that his own father is mine too so why did he try to keep me away from him?
Why tell Minho to keep me away from him?”
“Because apparently Prime Minister Bang is the biggest asshole in the political world and
you’re probably dodging a bullet by never having to call him daddy?” Hyunjin offers.
Felix shoots him a look but Hyunjin’s smile never wavers. He heads to the other side of the
office and starts looking through the files Chan has stacked in his bookcase.
Felix digs in. He pulls files and files out of Chan’s drawers, he looks through the files on the
desk and he starts going through the filing cabinet too. They work their way through all the
papers, reading over each one for a clue, a hint...anything.
Just over an hour passes and Felix reaches the bottom shelf of the cabinet closest to the door.
He crouches down and starts flicking through the files there when Hyunjin makes a sound.
Not just any sound either, an odd choking kind of sound.
“What’s up?”
When Hyunjin doesn’t answer, Felix looks up to see him looking through a file. Hyunjin
looks pale, his eyes staring at a particular part of the paper and Felix gets up to join him on
his side of the office.
“I found this,” Hyunjin says, passing a manila folder into Felix’s hands. “One of the
bookcases has a fake backing. When I pushed it open, that fell out.”
At first Felix doesn’t know what he’s looking at. The file itself is very thin with only a few
pages inside. The first thing he sees is a legal document but he can’t read it, some of the
bigger words elude him and when his confusion is evident, Hyunjin points to it.
“It’s a cease and desist order,” he explains. “From Chan’s father to his former secretary, Lee
Yeona.”
Felix’s eyes widen. “My mother.”
“The date adds up,” Hyunjin says, pointing to the date of the letter. “This would have been
before you were born. The letter urges her to cease her claims that Mr Bang is the father of
her child and threatens legal action should she refuse.”
Felix frowns. “My mother got pregnant with his kid and he threatened her?”
“Looks like it,” Hyunjin says. “He would have been married with a son. He had a reputation
even then, having an illegitimate son would have been a huge scandal.”
“But he…” Felix trails off. Suddenly, he understands why Chan was trying to keep them from
meeting. Because now the man has even more to lose, he can’t afford a scandal - especially
now that he’s the prime minister. Should anyone ever find out Felix existed…
Would his threats stop at legal action? Something in Felix is telling him no. His own birth
father would make him disappear to protect his own image.
“There’s more,” Hyunjin says after a moment, he sounds a little more anxious this time.
Felix watches as Hyunjin points to the page underneath the one he’s looking at. He pulls it
out to see another letter, very similar to the one about his mother, only this one has a different
name. Felix tries to read it but once again, he can’t get past the technical jargon.
Hyunjin is deathly quiet.
“What does it say?” Felix asks and when Hyunjin doesn’t answer, he looks up to see the other
is still pale. Still staring at the page as though he’s just found out something awful.
“Hyunjin?”
“It’s another cease and desist...but this one is a little stronger,” Hyunjin explains, his voice a
little shaky. “This one threatens ‘unfavourable consequences’ should this woman persist with
the lie that he is the father of her child. It terminates her employment as his second secretary
and-”
“Second secretary, how many secretaries did he have?” Felix splutters. “Don’t tell me he
managed to impregnate both of them.”
The look on Hyunjin’s face tells him everything.
“Fuck me,” Felix groans. “Okay, so not only is Chan my brother but I have another sibling
out there too because this slimeball couldn’t keep his married dick in his pants. Does this
second secretary have a name?”
“Yeah,” Hyunjin mumbles. “Hwang Hyein. My mother.”
Two in the morning finds Felix and Hyunjin sitting on opposite sides of the office. The
offending cease and desist orders lie on the floor, discarded and neither of them have been
able to speak for hours.
Felix is curled up on the floor, sitting with his back to the bookcase and staring off into space.
Hyunjin is sitting in one of the chairs near the door, his head resting against his hand as he
too zones out.
There were more pages. Things that only confirmed what both Hyunjin and Felix feared.
Pictures of their mothers, company profiles and printed emails from both of them with
doctors records and ultrasounds. It turns out that Felix’s mother couldn’t afford to keep Felix
and was asking for help. Hyunjin’s mother insisted that Mr Bang was the father of her child
because her own husband was, in her words, impotent.
“That’s why he kept calling her a whore,” Hyunjin mutters into the silence of the room.
“That’s why he fucking hated me, he knew I wasn’t his.”
Felix shivers. “You can’t think about that right now.”
“I can’t think about anything else,” Hyunjin counters. “Would you rather I thought about the
fact that I’ve given my own brother a blowjob?”
Felix winces. “Stop.”
“God I was gonna fuck you if you asked-”
“Stop, please, stop. I’m this close to throwing up,” Felix begs.
Hyunjin stops and silence falls over them again for a few minutes. Felix stares at the papers
on the floor and if nothing else, it’s clear evidence that Mr Bang had affairs in the late 90’s
that resulted in two pregnancies. He used his power to stomp both out.
It’s only through some very cruel twist of fate that all three of his sons are back in the same
city at the same time.
“It explains why Chan got me out of prison,” Hyunjin says. “He’s keeping us both close and
he’s keeping us away from his father and away from those.”
He points at the letters and shakes his head. “If the Prime Minister ever found out that we’re
his illegitimate sons...forget cease and desist letters, he’d make sure we disappear and never
come back.”
Felix winces. “You think?”
“Look what he did to our mothers when he was just a little threatened by rumours,” Hyunjin
points out. “Our existences alone are a huge threat to him. Chan’s protecting his father by
keeping his biggest scandals in his sight.”
But something about that statement doesn’t feel right. Felix frowns and after a moment of
thinking about it, he shakes his head.
“No...no...I don’t think he’s protecting his father. I think he’s protecting us.”
He sees the skeptical look on Hyunjin’s face and holds up a hand. “If he wanted to bury you,
he’d have let you rot in prison but instead he got you out. You would have never found the
truth in prison so why did Chan use his powers to get you out?”
Hyunjin blinks, he doesn’t have an answer for that.
“And me, it could have been easy to just introduce me to some random stranger and send me
back to Australia but instead he’s kept me here. He’s given me reasons to stay, he’s looked
after me - he’s looked after us both. He...he tried to keep me from meeting his father, not
because he was scared I’d find the truth but because his father would wipe me out if he ever
realised. I think Chan’s protecting both of us.”
“By keeping us here?” Hyunjin counters with a raised eyebrow. “Oh I feel so safe,” he drawls
sarcastically.
Perhaps it’s because it makes sense. More sense than any of Felix’s other theories. Or perhaps
he simply doesn’t want to believe that Chan wouldn’t be on his side. It’s the more comforting
theory to suggest that Chan is actually protecting them...in his own way.
Hyunjin sighs. “So what do you want to do? Now that we know the truth.”
Felix thinks it over. He imagines telling Chan what really happened and he can’t imagine
what Chan would do. Would Chan send them away for their own good? Would he send Felix
back to Australia?
Felix doesn’t want to go back. He doesn’t want Hyunjin to disappear either.
“We don’t tell him anything,” Felix finally decides. He looks Hyunjin in the eye. “We take
this to our graves. We don’t tell anyone about any of this. We let Chan think we don’t know
the truth. I think that might be the easiest way to deal with this.”
Hyunjin looks a little less convinced. “You really think that’s the best thing to do?”
“I really don’t think he needs to know that his two little brothers fucked around with each
other, no,” Felix counters swiftly, rather enjoying the way Hyunjin winces at the memory.
Finally, Hyunjin nods. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll take it to my grave.”
“Give me your word.”
Hyunjin huffs in amusement. He holds out his hand and watches as Felix takes it, giving it a
firm shake.
They lean back again into their spots and after an awkward, silent two minutes, Hyunjin says:
“If it’s of any consolation, Lix, we never would have worked out anyway.”
A ghost of a smile appears on Felix’s lips as he looks up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, you’re cute but you’re not completely my type,” Hyunjin tells him. “I need someone a
little more like me. A little more…”
“Unbothered?” Felix offers. “Carefree? Funny?”
“Unhinged,” Hyunjin finishes.
It’s so easy for Felix to forget that Hyunjin is actually a murderer.
They clean the office up, remove all evidence that they were ever there, hide the documents
again in the same spot and when they leave and relock the door, an agreement is in place.
The truth about them, the truth about their relationship with Chan, everything, they vow to
take it to their graves.
It’s a vow that Hyunjin, surprisingly enough, keeps.
It’s a vow that Felix half breaks when he tells Jeongin the truth.
But the truth that they’re half brothers who almost had sex? Felix and Hyunjin take that one
to their graves.
Chapter End Notes
Oooh my god. I will be open about the fact that sometimes a chapter fights back.
Sometimes they write themselves and sometimes they prove to be the worst hurdles
ever. I think I wrote and rewrote this particular chapter seven times - I deleted so much.
BUT, here we are and the good thing about this chapter is that you guys very much
needed to know the truth because as we go deeper into this rabbit hole....well at least
unlike the Minchan situation, you know the Hyunlix one isn't gonna come back up again
XD
Thank you all for your incredible comments and tweets and messages about this fic, it
really does make everything worth it to know you guys are out there :) See you next
time!
XXIV: In Venere Veritas
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
Ế
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
Chan looks up when the door to his office opens early in the morning and Jeongin slips in.
Despite it being his birthday, Jeongin looks a little worse for wear. His hair is a bit of a mess,
his uniform a little askew and visible marks on his neck tells Chan more than he ever wants
to know about Jeongin’s love life.
Still, he senses something off. Especially when Jeongin takes a seat and avoids his eyes.
“What’s wrong, Innie?”
It takes a moment for Jeongin to even reply.
“I need you to do me a favour,” he says, voice guarded and careful. This is clearly not an easy
request for him to make. “I’m not even sure if you can but you’re the only one I know who
might be able to.”
“Spit it out, Innie,” Chan says, not unkindly.
“I need you to dig into my past,” Jeongin tells him, his eyes lift to finally meet Chan’s. “I
know you already dug in a little but I need you to dig in more. Find out...what’s going on
with me. Even if the asylum had any records on me, if they knew what was wrong with
me…”
“Innie, what was wrong with you was that your mother was…” Chan trails off. It’s not good
to bring that up when he’s sure that for Jeongin, the munchausen thing is still a fresh wound
that he hasn’t really dealt with yet but the reality is that his mother was trying to kill him and
he went a little insane.
There’s also the fact that his father had the blackouts too.
“I’m losing touch,” Jeongin confesses, a little pained. “I’m starting to lose track of time. I’m
blacking out more these days and I don’t know what I do when I go under but I know it’s not
good.”
Chan leans in, now a little concerned. “What do you mean you’re blacking out more? You
mean you’ve blacked out again since that time Hyunjin was in the hospital?”
Jeongin nods slowly. “Last night.”
It takes Chan all of two seconds to connect the dots with the news he saw this morning about
a body being found in a construction site to Jeongin’s blackout. He feels a chill rush down his
spine as he looks at the boy in front of him and tries to keep his voice calm and non-
accusatory.
“Innie, do you remember anything about last night?”
Jeongin shakes his head and he can see tears welling in his eyes. Jeongin is shaking a little
and he starts to cry.
“I can’t remember anything,” he whimpers, hands balling into fists on his knees. “I just
remember waking up and...and my hands were covered in blood and…”
“Were you alone?”
Jeongin shakes his head again. He sniffs and uses one of his sleeves to rub at his face.
“Hyunjin was there.”
Hyunjin. Of course. Chan takes a deep breath and watches Jeongin silently crying in his seat.
He has half a mind to take Hyunjin out the back of the restaurant and shoot him but he’s also
well aware that as much as Hyunjin is a major detriment to Jeongin’s mental health, he’s
something Jeongin needs. After all, the last time Hyunjin was in the hospital, Jeongin went
mad and killed people. It’s kind of a double-edged sword.
“Your father went through blackouts, like the ones you’re experiencing,” Chan tells him once
Jeongin has calmed down a little. “He killed so many people as you already know and most
of the time, he did it whilst he was in that state. I’m not even sure it’s a black out because
you’re fully conscious, you just don’t remember what you’re doing. It’s more of dissociation
- a really rare form of it.”
“Dissociation is one thing, murdering people is another,” Jeongin points out tearfully.
“Something happened. I know something happened and I’m in no position to find out what.
You are. Please?” he sniffs. “Please find out what happened. I need to know. I’m scared that
one day I’m just going to black out and I’m not going to wake up ever again. I have to know
what happened.”
It’s strange, Chan has a very short list of people he can’t stand to see cry. Changbin and
Jisung are high on the list, so are Felix and Minho. Up until now, he thought that was it but it
turns out, he can’t really stand seeing Jeongin cry either because that’s all it takes for him to
agree to this.
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do,” he promises. “I’m heading to Seoul today to help my father
with some promotions so I might be able to make a few enquiries on the way. I can’t promise
results though.”
“Anything will help,” Jeongin sniffles, rubbing his face with his sleeves again until Chan
brings out a box of tissues from his desk and pushes them towards him instead. “Thank you.”
Chan frowns. “Don’t thank me yet. Are you really sure you want to know?”
“What do you mean?”

“It might be a little like opening Pandora’s Box,” Chan explains as Jeongin takes the tissues
and starts rubbing his eyes dry. “Some things, especially some traumatic events in our past,
are meant to stay hidden. That’s why our brains forget traumatic events, they’re protecting us.
Sometimes going through them again doesn’t actually help you deal with it, it just undoes the
work your brain put into protecting yourself.”
“I need to know,” Jeongin sniffs.
“And what about Hyunjin?” Chan asks. “What if he tries to put you in that state again?”
“I won’t let him,” Jeongin promises. “Just please, please find something. If we know what
this is, we might be able to stop it.”
Chan has a feeling, a really bad feeling that there is no way to stop whatever this is. That
whatever it is, be it a mental condition or a cluster of them, it’s already thundering way off
track with no brakes.
But there’s something else in the air, he feels it. An elephant he needs to address before
Jeongin can go back to work.
“I’ll look into it,” he promises. “But we need to talk about what you learnt on my wedding
day.”
He notices it too. The visible shift in Jeongin’s entire demeanour, the way he averts his eyes.
Chan leans forward on his desk to look at him.
“You just saw the label. Tell me what you know.” he asks and he sees Jeongin flinch a little.
He can’t exactly blame him, his tone of voice might sound a little like it used to when he
didn’t trust Jeongin. Right before he locked him up in a freezer to freeze to death.
“Once, the doctors thought I might have a brain tumour so…” Jeongin says, shuffling a little
where he sits. “...I’ve seen those pills before. When my mother was...you know…”
Chan nods slowly. “Have you told anyone?”
Jeongin shakes his head.
“Why not?”
“Because...I’m not sure you want me to,” Jeongin confesses quietly. “I know Minho-hyung
knows. That’s why he’s been away so often, that’s why he avoids you and always looks like
he’s going to cry. I know no one else knows.”
“No one else can know,” Chan tells him. “No one. Not even Felix, Han or Bin, you
understand?”
Jeongin frowns, he shakes his head and for once, he looks genuinely concerned.
“Why wouldn’t you tell them?” he asks. “Especially Felix? This isn’t something you can hide
forever and it’s not fair for Minho-hyung to be the only one who knows and has to keep it
from everyone else.”
“I have my reasons,” Chan says. “And I will tell them one day but right now, I need them to
stay unaware of it. I know it’s unfair, but I need your word that you won’t tell anyone. Not
even Hyunjin.”
There’s a long stretch of uncomfortable silence. Chan watches the way Jeongin’s mind ticks,
the uncertainty in his eyes and he knows he’s not giving him enough information to go off but
it’s all the information he can give. He has his reasons. He has plans, he has things that have
to happen and they won’t happen if everyone knows he’s dying.
It has to be this way.
Finally, Jeongin nods slowly. “I promise,” he says quietly. “I won’t tell a soul. But you need
to.”
Chan finds himself sighing in relief. He manages a small, grateful smile at Jeongin and nods.
“Thank you, I’ll do my best to find out what I can about your past.”
Jeongin nods, looking a little more encouraged. He mutters a small thanks and heads out of
the office as quietly as he’d come in. When he’s gone, Chan feels a weight leave his
shoulders as he slumps back in his seat.
If there’s one thing he can take away from today, it’s that he can’t say no to Yang Jeongin.
“Okay, so tell me why we’re here.”
Wooyoung looks up from his phone and turns to Changbin. Since they’d arrived, they hadn’t
left the car. In the back, San is twitching, looking a little more anxious than usual and
Changbin is just confused. Since Wooyoung had pretty much established his firm presence as
the head of Wolgang Pa, he hadn’t needed both San and Changbin around him as much as he
used to.
These days one of them follow him around and it’s usually San only, Changbin hasn’t been
needed much since they made up.
Except for now and it’s strange that both him and San are here at the same time.
“We’re picking someone up,” Wooyoung finally says - albeit a little reluctantly.
“Yes, I got that,” Changbin drawls, pointing to the sign they’re parked in front of which
clearly states they’re in the pick-up bay. “But why do you need both me and San with you for
this?”
“Because it’s my brother we’re picking up,” San states from the backseat.
Changbin turns to look at him. San looks a little on edge - more so than he usually is. His jaw
is clenched, fists white where they’re perched on his legs and posture rigid. He hasn’t taken
his eyes off the exit doors of the airport since they arrived.
Changbin frowns. “I’m going to need a little context.”
“Basically, San’s brother is an ass,” Wooyoung explains easily. “He and both his parents are
loyalists to my father but they were all overseas when I took over. Now the brother is
returning and we’re not sure how this is going to turn out.”
“It’s going to be fine,” San tells him, voice a little tight with nerves. “He’ll swear his fealty to
you-”
“He called me the ‘cocksucking baby of Wolgang Pa’ last time we met,” Wooyoung cuts in,
annoyed.
“That was ten years ago,” San argues. “Besides, he was joking.”
“I’m laughing,” Wooyoung snaps.
“Girls, cut it out or I’m kicking you both out of the car,” Changbin cuts in firmly, silencing
them both. He turns to San, “If we get any problems from your brother, you know what we’re
gonna have to do.”
“I know,” San says. “You won’t get any problems from him. I promise. He will swear his
loyalty to Wooyoung and he’ll be a helpful addition to the Pa. Minjun is popular amongst the
pa, particularly amongst the ones who’ve been there longest - he’ll be a strong advocate on
our side.”
Changbin catches Wooyoung rolling his eyes and he can’t help but feel a bit of doubt as well.
As his brother, San isn’t the best advocate but since they’re here, he has no choice but to
make a call on Minjun himself. Maybe San’s right or maybe he’s biased and desperately
trying to save his brother from a bullet in the head.
“He’s your younger brother?” Changbin guesses.
“Older,” San tells him. “Minjun is five years older than me and I know...I know he can be a
bit of a dick sometimes but when we were kids, and our parents were beating us up, Minjun
always stuck up for me. He always took my beatings for me and he always looked out for
me.”
Wooyoung is silent, opting instead to stay out of this altogether. Changbin watches San
warily. Having never had a sibling, he can’t relate but he can understand that San’s lingering
affection for his brother comes from that. His brother may be an ass to everyone else but he
protected San.
There’s a moment of awkward silence before San mutters something about meeting Minjun
at the gate before he leaves the car to head into the airport.
For safety, Wooyoung and Changbin stay in the car. Even now it’s not a smart idea for
Wooyoung to be anywhere he’s not expected to be. Ironically, the hardest part of his takeover
hadn’t been his establishment as the head of Wolgang Pa, it was actually as the head and heir
of all his father’s corporations, all his business deals and partnerships, everything.
In Wolgang Pa, it had been a matter of simply killing those who were loyal to his father and
siblings whilst simultaneously concreting his will over the rest of the pa with an iron fist and
more than a few loaded guns. For the business deals, it was different. These were high society
gentlemen, businessmen, CEO’s, diplomats, they were used to dealing with his father, not
with the young upstart who suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
To say he’d stepped on a few well polished boots would be an understatement but that was
where Chan had come in.
With his endorsement, Wooyoung managed to keep all his father’s businesses but not without
the old stuffed up businessmen he worked with constantly scrutinizing his every move. Just
like Chan, he’s starting to become noticed in the upper class business world and it’s not a
good thing because Chan was born for it, trained for it - Wooyoung is not.
“He’s got a point though,” Wooyoung says, breaking the silence as he watches San disappear
through the doors of the airport. “His brother is popular amongst the pa. He’s got a way of
rounding them all together for a single purpose.”
“That’s not always a good thing if his purpose is to knock you off your throne,” Changbin
reminds him warily.
“Minjun is popular there,” Wooyoung says. “He was born in the pa, he’ll probably die in the
pa, he’s been around some of those men longer than his own brother, he loves them like
family. Even if I really wanted to off him, I couldn’t because of that and also because come
hell or high water, San loves him.”
Changbin takes a deep breath and nods. “Fine, but we’re keeping an eye on him.”
“Oh hell yes we are,” Wooyoung agrees, his eyes watching people coming in and out of the
airport. “And where possible, I’d like the least amount of face to face time with him, he is an
asshole.”
“Well that’s easy, he can swear his loyalty to you and then if he wants to say anything else, he
can say it through San. You need never be in the same room,” Changbin promises.
They finally spot San coming back through the doors with a taller, slightly older man. Minjun
looks like San but his features are a little softer. San has a sharp jaw where Minjun does not,
San is also a little bigger than Minjun but Minjun is taller. He’s dressed in a black shirt,
leather jacket with black pants littered with stylistically placed zippers and red designs. In his
long hair sits a pair of sunglasses, Changbin notes his hair is tied back in a short ponytail and
he has a tan.
“Where did you say he came from again?” he asks, raising a slow eyebrow at the look of
San’s brother.
“My father had him and both his parents stationed in California three years before he died,”
Wooyoung replies, shifting in his seat a little as the pair come closer, Changbin can hear them
laughing just before the door is pulled open and Minjun slides right into the backseat.
“Sajangnim!” he chirps happily when he sees the back of Wooyoung’s head. He laughs.
“Fuck me dead, I could not have predicted this day would come. Last time I saw you, you
were tiny.”
“Last time I saw you, you had your head up my father’s ass,” Wooyoung mutters quietly to
himself before he finally turns to look at Minjun. “Long time no see.”
“You’ve grown, Sajangnim,” Minjun beams. “Is that the term we’re using for you now?
Sajangnim?”
San puts his luggage in the trunk of the car and climbs in next to Minjun.
“Yes,” Wooyoung answers Minjun as he turns back to look ahead. “We’ll talk about your
fealty when we get back-”
“Oh no, no, no, let me declare my undying loyalty now,” Minjun insists. He reaches forward
and grabs Wooyoung’s hand so fast that even Changbin had no chance to stop him.
Wooyoung turns in his seat, staring in alarm as Minjun holds his hand hostage and meets his
eyes. The cheer in his face is gone and all at once, he’s serious.
“I know we didn’t get along when we were younger,” Minjun says. “We were stupid kids, me
the stupidest of all. But I never forgot that thanks to you, my brother was elevated to a
favourable position. Whether that was your doing or not, I thank you for it. You looked after
my brother and he looked after you and I never told you how grateful I was for that.”
San looks between Wooyoung and Minjun, he looks a little apprehensive - almost as though
he thinks his brother might try something. Changbin, on the other hand, is ready to shoot
Minjun in the head should he try.
Minjun, however, doesn’t do anything of the sort. He doesn’t pull out a gun, he doesn’t hurt
Wooyoung. He simply kisses the ring on his finger and bows in his seat.
“I swear my undying love, devotion and fealty to you, Sajangnim,” he says. “Til the end of
my days, I’ll work as hard as any man for the good of Wolgang Pa - my first love and my
family. Should I ever do anything against you, shoot me in the head with my own gun.”
Wooyoung is frowning, he’s stopped trying to pull his hand out of Minjun’s and is instead
staring at the top of his head in confusion. San looks hopeful. A moment of silence passes
before Wooyoung awkwardly clears his throat and manages to pull his hand out of Minjun’s
grip.
“Fine,” he says, rubbing his hand a little on his shirt as he turns back to sit properly in his
seat. “Fealty accepted.”
Just like that, Minjun’s big smile is back on his face, he whoops and beams at San before
finally noticing Changbin.
“And who are you?”
“This is Changbin, my other guard,” Wooyoung introduces before Changbin can. Perhaps it’s
spite that causes Wooyoung to add: “He’s faster than San, I wouldn’t make any sudden moves
around him if I were you.”
Changbin frowns at Wooyoung, he manages a nod before he turns back to the front and starts
the car up. Whatever this is, he suddenly doesn’t want to have any part of it.
They leave the airport parking lot with Minjun teasing San about Changbin possibly being
faster than him.
“Got your work cut out for you, little brother! Can’t protect Sajangnim if you’re too slow to
react!”
Changbin hears San laugh - the first time he’s ever heard him laugh and he looks through the
rearview mirror to see the way Minjun is teasing San, tickling him in the side and making
jokes. Strangely, it reminds him of the way Chan and Felix interact.
He wouldn’t know, however. He was an only child.
“Happy birthday to Innie!” Felix cheers as he wraps his arms around their youngest.
It’s barely opening time, Seungmin gives him a nod from where he’s still bringing the meat
out from the freezer and as soon as Felix lets him go, Minho pulls him in for another hug.
Hyunjin just looks amused. “Let the boy breathe, keep hugging him like that and he won’t
make it to his twenty-first.”
“Just because you’re touch sensitive,” Felix pouts.
Minho pulls back from Jeongin and smooths his hair down where Felix had messed it up in
all his excitement. He steps back just in time for Jisung to come in from the main room, work
his way around the small crowd and pull Jeongin into a third hug.
Over Jisung’s shoulder, Jeongin shoots Hyunjin a pleading look that goes completely ignored.
Asshole.
Jisung pulls back and beams at Jeongin.
“Happy birthday,” he says as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small little square
parcel the size of his palm, wrapped in red paper and topped with a black bow. “I got you
something.”
Jeongin’s eyes widen. “Han, you didn’t have to…”
“It’s just something small,” Jisung assures him, placing the box into his hands. “Not every
day you turn twenty after all, you should have something to commemorate it.”
His words, though spoken lightly, have a heavy meaning to them that Jeongin picks up
immediately. He manages a small smile at Jisung but he knows what the other had meant.
With parents like his, it’s a miracle he’d made it to twenty.
“Thank you.”
“Open it when I’m not in the room, I’ll get embarrassed,” Jisung grins before turning around
to push Minho and Hyunjin out with him. “Alright, come on guys, we’ve got work on the
floor.”
They disappear through the double doors and when they’re gone, Felix bounces up to Jeongin
and watches as Jeongin takes the bow off and undoes the wrapping paper. Inside is a small
black, velvet box.
“Is he trying to propose to you?” Felix chuckles.
Jeongin shrugs and opens the box to find a small necklace inside. It’s a small silver coin at its
end with the letter J engraved into its centre. Engraved on the other side of the coin is a small
fennec fox with tiny blue jewels glued into its eyes.
Jeongin takes the necklace out slowly, testing the weight of the tiny chain link around his
fingers and watching the light catch the blue gems of the eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” he breathes.
Felix grins and helps Jeongin put it on. He tucks it under his shirt for safekeeping and leads
Jeongin to the workstation to start the day.
“What are you gonna do tonight for your birthday?” Felix asks. “Have you got anything
planned?”
Jeongin blinks. In all honesty, he’d forgotten it was even his birthday.
“No, not really,” he admits quietly as he pulls out the knives and sets them aside. “I kind of
forgot it was coming. Never really do anything for my birthdays anyway.”
There’s a beat and he doesn’t miss it. Felix’s face suddenly looks crushed, very sad before it’s
pushed aside again and he smiles.
“Well, in that case, what would you say to coming out with me, Bin and whoever else we can
get to come out tonight?” Felix suggests.
“Out?” Jeongin frowns. “Out where?”
“You know, last I checked, we are all men in our early twenties and yet all we do is work and
go home like we’re millennials in our thirties,” Felix points out with a cheeky grin. “We
should be doing what normal twenty-something’s do and go out to do something stupid like
get shitfaced and dance with strangers.”
Jeongin thinks if he ever started grinding up against a stranger, Hyunjin would have that
person killed by daybreak but it does sound like an interesting idea - considering he’s never
done it before.
He starts rinsing the vegetables and looks at Felix.
“What have you got in mind?”
Felix’s smile tells him everything.
By the end of the day, Felix manages to talk Jisung and Seungmin into joining. Minho
volunteers to take over closing for Changbin to allow him to join as well.
“You sure, hyung?” Felix asks, a small concerned frown on his face when Minho comes into
the kitchen to announce his plans. “We’ll probably still be out when you finish up, you can
come join us if you want?”
“No thank you, I’m not in party mode right now anyway,” Minho winces. “You guys go out,
have fun and if you need a ride, call me.”
So by the end of the day, when the restaurant finally sees off it’s last customer, Minho shoos
them all out of the restaurant, promising to take over cleaning for the night so they have more
time to enjoy themselves.
Hyunjin comes out of the main room and drapes his arm around Jeongin’s shoulders. He
presses a small kiss to his temple and walks him out of the back door with everyone else and
over his shoulder, Jeongin sees the small smile Minho gives Jisung as the other is leaving.
Whatever ground they’re on, it’s careful at best.
“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, the night is young people!” Felix cheers as he leads them out of
the parking lot and out onto the streets.
The advantage of God’s Menu being where it is, is the fact that it’s so close to everything that
they really don’t need to drive or take a train to the places they want to go to. As a group,
Jeongin, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Jisung, Changbin and Felix walk along the dark sidewalk. Cars
drive past on the road and the sidewalk is well lit with streetlights. The bustling nightlife of
Busan is only two blocks away and already they can hear the night owl crowds near.
Seungmin slinks next to Jeongin and watches Felix jump up on Changbin’s back just a few
paces ahead of them. Felix’s mood is contagious at least, it puts the rest of them at ease.
“I’m coming because I like you, I want that put in the books,” Seungmin confesses to
Jeongin. “And because I’m legitimately concerned that if there aren’t more people to watch
them, Felix and Changbin might have a part two of the time they tried to fuck with no lube.”
Jeongin snorts. “Surely they’ve learnt that lesson.”
“They can easily forget that if they both get wasted,” Seungmin points out.
Hyunjin looks up from where he’s walking next to Jeongin with his arm around Jeongin’s
shoulders. “What will you do if they do go off to fuck without lube? Are you carrying lube on
you?”
Seungmin chuckles. “At the very least I can stop them and send them home with orders to
buy lube on the way.”
Jeongin looks over his shoulder and spots Jisung walking just a little behind them. He works
his way out of Hyunjin’s arm and steps back to walk next to him instead whilst Seungmin
strikes up a conversation with Hyunjin.
“Thank you for the necklace,” Jeongin says. The way Jisung starts a little tells him that
Jisung was clearly daydreaming as he was walking.
Jisung looks at him, a little alarmed at first but he relaxes when he sees who it is. “You’re
welcome,” he smiles. “I told you, it’s just a small thing.”
“It’s beautiful,” Jeongin assures him, “I love it. But what does the fox mean?”
“Ah, I have this thing I do where I put animals on people based on their personality,” Jisung
confesses, his cheeks going a little red as he does so. “I do it with everyone. Whenever I see
you, for some reason I see a fennec fox. You know those cute little foxes with massive ears?”
Jeongin giggles. “Why? Do you think I have big ears or something?”
“No, no, just...you’re a fennec fox in my head,” Jisung assures him. “I don’t know, I just find
them really cute. Did you know they purr when they’re happy?”
“Like a cat?” Jeongin asks without thinking.

He sees the moment Jisung’s face falls thinking about cats which then inevitably leads him to
think about Minho. A forlorn smile appears on his face.
“Yeah...like cats.”
Jeongin can’t help himself, he pats Jisung’s shoulder and tries to change the subject. “What’s
Hyunjin?”
“A ferret.”
Jeongin snorts, he laughs so hard that Seungmin and Hyunjin turn back to look at him
questioningly. Jisung waves them off and Jeongin tries to calm himself down but he just ends
up giggling into his sleeve.
Jisung’s laughing too. He leans in, as if to whisper because Hyunjin is still within hearing
distance. “It kind of suits him in my opinion.”
Jeongin can’t agree or disagree but he ends up nodding, he’s still having trouble breathing
because he’s still laughing too hard. Jisung waits until he’s caught his breath before
continuing.
“And Seungmin’s a dog.”
“Appropriate,” Jeongin nods.
“Lix is a baby chick.”
“Aww.”
“Binnie’s a pig-rabbit.”
Again Jeongin ends up laughing so hard he doubles over and stumbles next to Jisung as the
group continue walking ahead.
“I’m a quokka, Chan’s a wolf and Minho…”
Jeongin looks up to see that sad look return to Jisung’s eyes. At best he can tell, he’s
definitely on speaking terms with Minho. They’re able to work together and talk to each
other just fine but that line hasn’t been crossed. There’s a clear line between them where
Jisung hasn’t continued their relationship and Minho’s carefully not pushing him. He’s
waiting and in the meantime, Jisung is just sad.
“Hey,” Jeongin says, his hand rubbing Jisung’s arm again. “If you’re not up for doing this
tonight, you don’t have to.”
“No, no I want to,” Jisung assures him with a small, brave smile. “I need to get out and do
something else. The most I do is go home and cry, it’s not healthy. At least this way I can say
I’ve done something.”
Encouraged a little by his answer, Jeongin ventures forward a little. “How are you guys
doing? Really?”
For a moment, Jisung is quiet and Jeongin thinks he won’t answer. But to his surprise, Jisung
does.
“We’re in a holding pattern at the moment,” he confesses. “I know he loves Chan and I know
Chan loves him but nothing’s being done about it. From there, I can see I have two choices. I
either accept that and take him back or I don’t and…”
He can’t even seem to say the words ‘break up’. He stops there and shakes his head.
“What would you do in my position?” he asks. “If...say...Hyunjin loved someone else but
loved you at the same time?”
For a while there, Jeongin thought he did. Or at the very least, that Hyunjin was seeing Felix
on the side. He’s not sure Hyunjin is capable of love but the very thought of Hyunjin even
touching someone else is enough to make Jeongin want to hurt something. If not Hyunjin
himself then everyone near him. He wasn’t even aware he could be jealous until Hyunjin
appeared in his life.
It’s no better the other way around either. If he ever (the notion is ridiculous) fell in love with
Hyunjin and someone else, Hyunjin would have that someone else killed without question.
“Maybe we’re not the best example,” Jeongin confesses. “I know it’s possible to love more
than one person but it’s not for everyone. I also know that we don’t really get a choice in who
we fall in love with.”
The tiny, tiny part of him that is interested in his own self preservation has already made the
observation that if he wants to survive at all, he has to cut ties with Hyunjin. The majority of
him already knows that is absolutely impossible at this point.
“But it seems to me that for this particular problem, everyone else is going to have a different
way of dealing with it. It really just depends on what kind of person you are, if you’re willing
to live with the fact that Minho loves two people at the same time.”
“That’s just it, I don’t know if I can but I also don’t know if I can live without him,” Jisung
shrugs. “In the meantime we’re just in this...weird limbo where we talk like we’re friends but
there’s always an elephant in the room. A giant, red elephant staring at me and urging me to
hurry up and make a choice.”
“I’m sure Minho isn’t trying to urge you,” Jeongin winces. “At least I hope he’s not.”
“No, he’s not, he’s giving me all the space I want but I can’t make up my mind about it,”
Jisung says. “But it’s alright. Maybe one day, eventually I’ll make up my mind. In the
meantime, let’s celebrate you being twenty.”
Jisung throws his arm around Jeongin’s shoulder and pulls him closer with a small, watery
smile. “You know, I really do like you, Innie. There’s something about you.”
Jeongin just smiles. “I like you too, hyung.”
“We’re here!” Felix calls.
The group look up to see they’ve arrived in the thriving nightlife of the city. The streets are
suddenly more full of people, there are lines queuing outside of nightclubs, every parking
space on the side of the road is taken and there are people on dates, people out for the night,
groups just like theirs looking for a place to get shitfaced and spend their night away with the
crowd.
The hotspot of Busan.
Felix beams at Jeongin and waves his arms around. “Birthday boy, the first round is on me!”
Minho observes his reflection in the tables as he wipes them down. Usually, when someone’s
on lockup duty, the others clean the restaurant so really all the person with the keys has to do
is double check the air conditioning is off, all the windows closed, the freezer locked, then
lock all the doors and head out the back.
But Minho had sent everyone off and so he finds himself alone, cleaning the tables and in the
low sound of the music overhead, he daydreams.
Once, a couple of months ago, he was on lockup duty and Jisung had insisted on staying with
him to help. They ended up fucking right in the middle of the main room, on top of one of the
tables. Minho distinctly remembers the quiet tune of the Weeknd playing Wicked Games on
the speakers as he clung to Jisung and tried not to fall off the table.
He still dreams about him. It’s the cruellest thing of all when he’s alone in bed and dreams of
Jisung next to him, his hand trailing over him, his breathing in his ear and that low, quiet
voice of his that always - always - makes Minho shiver when he whispers ‘baby, are you
awake?’
Those nights when he wakes up, drenched in sweat and horny beyond belief are the worst
because the crushing reality that Jisung’s side of the bed is empty and cold always makes him
cry.
He pushes the tables aside and stacks the chairs to start on the floor. As he sweeps and mops
until the floor shines, his thoughts inevitably return to Jisung.
Lately, he’s been all Minho can think about and it’s a nice reprieve from thinking about Chan.
Any thought of Chan, any reminder of the fact that he’s dying just sends Minho into a deep
depression as well.
Finishing the main room, Minho heads back into the kitchen and starts tying the rubbish bags
up. He picks them up and heads out the back door to the big rubbish containers outside. It’s
there, just as he’s putting the trash out, that he hears a voice behind him knocking him out of
his thoughts completely.
“Nice night.”
Jumping, Minho whips around to see a man standing behind him. He’s taller than him,
decked in leather, a visible tattoo of vines crawling up the left side of his neck. He’s not
unattractive and he can’t be much older but the way he stands has Minho on edge
immediately. Not to mention the fact that he just fucking popped up out of nowhere.
“If you’re looking for a meal, the restaurant is closed,” he says, more than a little suspicious
as he takes a step back.
The man winces. “It is? Damn. I heard this was the best place in town.”
Minho notes that the man doesn’t try coming any closer and whilst that’s reassuring, he stays
on high alert.
“Maybe try again tomorrow,” Minho advises.
“I just came back to Korea, you see,” the man continues and Minho can detect a slight twang
in his accent. It’s not completely foreign but it’s not a dialect either. This man is Busan-born.
“My flight got in a little late, had to see the family and by the time I realised I hadn’t eaten
anything since the plane, it’s already too late for most places.”
Minho stares up at him. “Well...there are 24 hour joints two blocks down the road,” he tells
him. “McDonalds, Burger King, that sort of thing. Convenience stores too.”
“I’ll definitely be back tomorrow,” the man promises with an easy, wolfy kind of grin. Not
unattractive at all but still, Minho can’t help but be on edge. “Everyone I talk to keeps telling
me God’s Menu is unbelievable.”
“Well….tell them thank you and we’ll be happy to serve them tomorrow,” Minho says,
backing up a little towards the back door. “I’m in the middle of cleaning so…”
“Ah, sorry,” the man chuckles.
He turns to leave and for a second, Minho breathes a sigh of relief. But then the man whips
back around and suddenly Minho’s back is pressed against the door. The man is suddenly
really, really close with one hand on Minho’s waist, the other hand pressed against the door,
right next to Minho’s head.
His cologne is a strange, musky sort of scent with woody undertones. It reminds Minho a
little of Chan.
“The name’s Choi Minjun, by the way,” the man says, wolfy grin back again. “If I don’t
come back for the food, I’ll come back for you.”
Minho is kind of in shock. He hasn’t been handled like this by a stranger in such a long time
that by the time it occurs to him to push this man off and shout at him, Minjun is already
gone. He lets Minho go, turns on his heel and leaves without another word.
It’s not until the sound of his motorcycle speeding out of the parking lot hits Minho’s ears,
that Minho suddenly recovers and stares at the empty parking lot in shock and slight anger.
He can still feel Minjun’s hand on his hip.
“Asshole,” he mutters under his breath before stomping back into the restaurant.
He makes sure to lock the back door behind him just in case.
It’s not until after the group arrive in Club Cherry, order a round of drinks and occupy one of
the booths in the seating area, that they realise they haven’t eaten anything.
“Isn’t that bad?” Jeongin asks. “Aren’t we meant to eat something before we drink?”
The club is doused in purple lighting, neon lights line the tops of the walls, the bar is lit up
and surrounds the dance floor. Up on the second floor, the booths and tables offer a view of
the sea of humans below, all Jeongin can see is bodies grinding against each other to
deafening music. In the air is the faintest scent of sweat and alcohol mixed with the air
freshener that must be pumped through the club to keep it from reeking of human sexual
desperation.
It’s how Jeongin knows he’s in a club.
“You are advised to eat before you drink,” Jisung adds where he’s curled up in the L corner
of the booth. “But that’s just because it stops you from getting drunk faster. If you’re here to
get hammered, don’t worry about not eating. Just don’t expect to be well the day after”
“I’m still ordering chips,” Felix announces from behind the menu he’s perusing.
Jeongin looks over his shoulder. From his vantage point, he can see the balcony that stops
people from falling off the second floor. Below them, he can see people dancing against each
other and the beat is almost toxic. It’s so loud he can feel it thrumming through his entire
body.
Next to him, Hyunjin snakes his arm around his body and pulls him close to his side. Jeongin
climbs onto his lap and finishes his glass in one go. It doesn’t bother him much that he hasn’t
eaten.
Despite the fact that they’re all the right age to be here, they all somehow feel like fish out of
water. When asked, Changbin revealed he’d never been to a club. Hyunjin said he hadn’t
been interested and Jeongin hadn’t had the chance. Felix hadn’t been either but he’d always
been curious.
The only ones in their group who had not only been to clubs but would know what to do here
are Chan and Minho because although Jisung and Seungmin had been to clubs, they’d been
strip clubs and they’d both been there for the same reason.
“You drink, you eat, you get brave and start dancing if you want,” Jisung says, observing the
sea of dancing below. “And if you haven’t gotten completely shitfaced, you probably stumble
home with a stranger and have a one night stand.”
“Sounds healthy,” Changbin laughs.
Hyunjin starts nuzzling Jeongin’s neck with his nose, his arm locked around his waist to keep
him on his lap. Jeongin’s eyes flutter closed as he turns his head to bury his nose in Hyunjin’s
hair, practically curling into his chest.
“Nauseating,” Seungmin comments.
Jeongin doesn’t respond but Hyunjin shoots out a hand to flip him off, much to Felix’s
amusement.
“Okay! Let’s do this,” Changbin bounces. “Drinks, shots, we’re not working tomorrow
anyway so let’s get shitfaced.”
Felix orders a lot of food and water just in case. In no time, their table is stacked with shots of
different drinks, plates and plates of fried food and glasses of water that somehow remain
untouched right at the corner of their table.
Hyunjin eventually lets Jeongin slide off his lap so he can eat and things start feeling lighter.
It could be because they’re all getting drunk but it’s too easy for them to fall into a
comfortable rhythm even when it’s not their full group. Jisung and Changbin are deep in a
conversation about something that happened when Jisung was fifteen and Seungmin ends up
talking to Hyunjin but Jeongin isn’t really paying attention.
All of a sudden, Felix appears at his side.
“Come dance with me,” he says.
Wary, Jeongin glances at the sea of bodies below. He’s never been one to willingly shove
himself in a crowd, he’ll avoid it if he can help it.
“We might get eaten down there,” he points out and Felix laughs.
“I’ll protect you,” he promises and when Jeongin nods, he takes his hand and leads him out
of the booth and to the stairs.
Jeongin can feel Hyunjin’s eyes on him the whole way down and the closer they get to the
crowd, the more vividly he can feel the beat of the music pumping right through him. The
alcohol helps silence any inhibitions he might have had and when Felix leads him right into
the middle of the crowd, he stays close.
Felix’s dancing is nothing like the grinding and writhing happening all around them. Instead
he takes Jeongin’s hands and starts bouncing up and down like a maniac and for a moment,
Jeongin stares at him in horror.
“Do you not know how to dance?” he asks.
“Who cares?” Felix giggles. “Come on!”
Maybe it’s because he’s a little drunk or maybe it’s because Felix’s big smile is so damn
adorable but Jeongin starts jumping with him and he has to admit, it’s kind of exhilarating.
With the music all around them, deafening them and Felix’s hands tight in his own, Jeongin
hops with him in circles. The people around them start giving them space as Felix’s whoops
and hollers are lost to the noise.
It’s so easy with Felix, Jeongin realises. To just let everything go and just be in the moment.
The way Felix smiles, the way he drags him in closer so he can hug him, Jeongin feels
something warm inside and it’s not often that he feels it. It feels almost human, like if he’d
had Felix as a friend when he was younger, things might not have turned out the way they
had. He might have had a chance at avoiding the blackouts altogether.
Felix throws his arms around Jeongin’s shoulders and hugs him tight as their energy starts to
fade and they end up swaying on the dance floor. Jeongin tucks his face in Felix’s neck and
closes his eyes. Even his scent is comforting.
He feels warm.
“Happy birthday, Innie,” Felix says into his ear. Jeongin can feel Felix’s hand stroking his
hair back. “Thank you for being born.”
Unbidden, Jeongin thinks of bodies with wide open backs. Of blood on his hands. Behind his
closed eyelids he sees flashes of people he doesn’t recognise but he sees himself hurting them
all the same. The dogs, the cats, every single animal that came too close to him, every person
who scared him, everything that made too much noise and it’s too much, it’s all too much.
He hugs Felix tighter and suddenly he can’t breathe. It’s all closing in, memories of things
he’s done, things he can’t remember, there’s blood all over his hands and he can’t breathe.
“Innie?” Felix says, this time with a touch of concern. “Innie, you’re breathing really weird.”
Help, Jeongin wants to say. Help me, I’m going mad.
Before he can say anything, however, another pair of hands take his waist from behind and
he’s suddenly turned around to see Hyunjin looking down at him. Despite himself, he hides
his face in Hyunjin’s chest and wraps his arms around him instead.
Hyunjin’s scent is intoxicating even in the sea of dancing bodies, he breathes in and
immediately the visions disappear. No more blood, no more bodies, no more things he can’t
remember. He feels calm take over him once more and his breath comes out with a shaky
sigh.
“I’ve got him, Fe,” Hyunjin is saying.
“Come dance with me.”
Changbin. Jeongin can’t see because his face is hidden in Hyunjin’s chest but he recognises
the voice and he can hear Felix being taken away by Changbin, presumably to dance.
Left alone with the music pounding in his ears and people all around them, Jeongin lifts his
face to look up at Hyunjin who is now holding him and stroking his hair back.
“Hyunjin…”
“Shhh,” Hyunjin hushes him, he tucks Jeongin’s hair behind his ear and leans down to press a
kiss to his temple. “You’re alright, Innie. I’ve got you.”
The song changes and the entire club changes with it. Purple lighting changes to red and the
reaction from the crowd around them can be felt to the bone. Through the smoke surrounding
the dance floor, Jeongin watches Hyunjin’s eyes and he can’t look anywhere else.
People around them are dancing a little slower, grinding a little closer and Jeongin doesn’t
realise he’s moving until he notices that Hyunjin is. Just a small, slow sway but their bodies
are pressed close, chest to chest.
In the aftermath of his strange visions, Jeongin really only has one question to ask.
“Am I going crazy?”
At first he doesn’t think Hyunjin can hear him. The music is deafening after all and Jeongin
almost whispered - as though afraid of the answer.
But then Hyunjin pulls him in closer until Jeongin’s face is pressed into his shoulder. Jeongin
holds on tightly, his fingers clutching the cloth of Hyunjin’s shirt and he’s sure that if he dares
to let go, he’ll black out and never wake up again.
“Does it matter?” Hyunjin whispers in his ear. “Do you really think any of us are sane?”
Jeongin closes his eyes and Hyunjin has a point. Considering where they work, what they
feed to their customers every day and the fact that they’ve all simply gotten used to it is
indicative enough that they can’t be completely sane. No sane person would willingly serve
human meat to a customer, no matter how much that meat deserved to die.
But the visions are gone for now, the panic is at bay and Jeongin clings to Hyunjin despite the
little voice in the back of his head reminding him that it was Hyunjin who made him black
out just yesterday.
Despite it all, Jeongin can’t bring himself to let him go.
So he sways, he lets Hyunjin’s scent and the warmth of his body take him away, somewhere
else.
“Innie,” Hyunjin whispers, his lips pressing small kisses along Jeongin’s earlobe. “My Innie.”
Jeongin’s breathing evens, calms and deepens as though he’s falling asleep. He can feel
Hyunjin’s hands holding him and maybe it’s because he’s drunk or maybe it’s something else
but he suddenly doesn’t care that they’re right in the middle of a sea of people. It doesn’t
matter that the music is deafening and it doesn’t matter that he may or may not be going
insane.
None of it matters.
Hyunjin’s hand guides his face up for a kiss and Jeongin sinks his hand in his hair. He feels
Hyunjin’s lips pressed against his own and thinks he’s safest here. Right here with Hyunjin.
It’s there, in the middle of a crowd, in Hyunjin’s arms that Jeongin blacks out.
Minho hears Chan come in just as he’s closing up the restaurant. The telltale light under the
frame of his office door gives him away when Minho is locking the back door of God’s
Menu.
With nothing to do and more than a little concern on his part, Minho hitches his bag on his
shoulder and heads to the office door. He knocks gently and after hearing a muffled ‘come in’
he pushes the door open to find Chan sitting at his desk with his head in his hands.
“Chris?”
Chan brings his head up right away, as if startled and when he sees Minho, he frowns.
“Thought you were Bin,” he confesses.
“I took over lockup,” Minho shrugs. “Everyone else is out for the night. Thought it might be
best to sit it out - I’m not exactly in party mood.”
No one is, not even Jeongin but Minho can hope that the night was at least a little fun for
him.
He notices the look in Chan’s eyes. Something a little forlorn, something he doesn’t
recognise and he goes to take a seat. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve had a long day.”
“The longest,” Chan confesses quietly. “My dad’s presidential campaign, you know?”
Minho nods, he disapproves but he nods. He knows better than to sway Chan in anything,
he’s as stubborn as a mule and for some reason, despite the fact that he’s dying, he’s deemed
this more important than anything else he could be doing. Minho has already decided he’ll
never understand him.
“Something else though,” Chan adds, more than a little tired. “Innie asked me to use my
contacts and resources to dig a little more into his past and…”
Minho leans in. “...and? Did you find anything?”
For a moment, Chan looks like he’s having trouble trying to articulate what he’s about to say.
His eyebrows frown a little in thought, his hands and fingers flex as if explaining something
and he seems to be genuinely struggling before he finally gets it out.
“Innie’s childhood...is like watching a trainwreck.”
Minho raises an eyebrow. “Well...yes? We knew he had problems-”
“No, no. It’s like a trainwreck,” Chan continues. “Like...imagine...you’re standing on the
scene of a wreck. The train collided into a rock or something, I don’t know and you see the
wreck. Train off the tracks, it’s lying on its side, smoke everywhere, it’s a wreck.”
“Yes?”
“Stay with me. Imagine you’re seeing that and then when you look inside the train, that’s
when you see the bodies. Not just the bodies, you see everything. You see blood, organs, you
see how young some of the passengers were. There’s a head sticking out of a broken window
that hasn’t completely shattered and so some of the glass is sticking into the neck, you see
half a body on a chair and the other half sprawled on the other side of the train, you see a pole
that snapped off in the crash and impaled someone right in the middle of the eyes, you know?
You see the details they forget to add in news reports because it’s either too gory or they just
don’t think it’s important enough. You see things that will stay with you for the rest of your
life and you wouldn’t have seen it if you’d just stayed outside of the wreck.”
Minho watches Chan and all the while, Chan isn’t looking at him. He’s not looking at
anyone, he seems to be trying to understand his own brain even as he speaks.
“That...horror, of seeing the truth about how many people that trainwreck killed. Seeing
everything, seeing all the nasty details...that’s what it felt like looking into Innie’s past,” Chan
finishes.
“So...in this metaphor, the trainwreck is what we know about Innie’s past-”
“Surface damage, yes,” Chan nods, sounding a little more like a conspiracy theorist. “The
munchausen-by-proxy thing, the absent father, that kind of stuff.”
“And the bodies and details inside the train are the details you just found out today,” Minho
continues.
Chan nods. “Yes, exactly.”
Minho leans in, now more than a little concerned. After all the things Chan has ever seen in
his life, very few things can rattle him like this. He’s seen bodies hanging from hooks in his
freezer, he’s seen murder happen right before his eyes, he’s even caused it. So what the fuck
was in Jeongin’s past that has him so shaken up?
“Chris…?”
Chan looks defeated now. He’s slumping in his chair, eyes far away in thought and a pained
look on his face. Minho’s never seen him like this before.
“How do I tell him?” Chan asks, voice quiet and almost scared. “How do...I tell Innie the
truth about his past?”
Minho stares at him, sees the way Chan isn’t really here, he’s deep in thought and he’s lost.
He’s genuinely lost.
“It’s his past,” Minho reminds him. “Maybe Innie needs to know.”
“Maybe…” Chan begins, he shakes his head and sits up properly. “Maybe, Innie doesn’t need
to know how his mother set him up on all those modelling jobs when she needed the extra
cash. Maybe he doesn’t need to know that he was blacking out and killing the cats and dogs
but his mother was also using his blackouts to sell him to the directors and photographers of
those photoshoots. Maybe he doesn’t need to know how many of them were happy to have a
little boy who can’t even remember what they did to him. Maybe he doesn’t need to know
that his own mother made money off his body and then extra cash off his modelling. Maybe
he doesn’t need to know that the only time he was ever truly safe was when he was in that
fucking asylum and maybe he doesn’t need to know that his father was planning on killing
him the day he kidnapped him from the restaurant-”
“Chris, calm down,” Minho says, alarmed when he sees how worked up Chan is getting.
He gets up from his seat and goes around the desk to stand near Chan instead. With one hand
on Chan’s back, he watches the other take a deep, shaking breath. It’s a lot to take in, even for
Minho who thought he’d seen it all.
“Maybe if I tell him the truth of just how much his parents tried to fuck him up, we really
will lose him,” Chan finally says as he covers his face with his hands. “He’ll black out and
that’ll be it...he’ll be gone for good.”
Minho crouches next to Chan’s seat and looks up at him. Chan is very visibly shaken by this
and it’s all Minho can do not to pull him into a hug - he certainly looks like he could use one.
He doesn’t and instead places his hand on Chan’s knee to remind him he’s there.
Then Chan reaches down and takes his hand, Minho jumps, his eyes widening as he watches
Chan’s fingers close over his own.
“Chris…?”
“The reality is that we’re ten years too late to save Innie,” Chan says, his eyes faraway again
as he stares at a corner of his desk. Not even looking at Minho but holding his hand so tightly.
“I could tell him all of this now and he’ll probably black out forever but if I don’t tell him,
he’ll eventually go. One too many blackouts or whatever they are, dissociations, he’ll
just...leave us forever and what’ll be left is...a monster his parents created.”
Minho stares, watching the exact moment Chan’s thoughts come together.
“What if…?” Chan begins softly, quietly, almost as though he were about to tell a secret.
“What if the Innie we know is the Innie he might have been had his parents not tried so damn
hard to kill him? If he had normal parents, what if that’s what he could have been? By nature
he could have been so...sweet and cute and Innie but by nurture he’s something else.
Something we’ve never met before.”
Minho frowns. “You make him sound like a monster.”
“The night Hyunjin was in the hospital, Innie blacked out and killed four people in one night.
That guy in the news with his back ripped open was Innie’s work, we’ve never met this Innie
before. The only one of us who has is Hyunjin and he seems to get off on it,” Chan says.
“And yeah, we could separate Hyunjin and Innie but I know that Innie is dependent on him
and he’s dependent on Innie. Separating them might actually be worse than what’ll happen if
we let Hyunjin keep doing what he’s doing to Innie. Changing him, making him dissociate.”
Minho glances at their hands and it’s only now that he notices how warm Chan’s hand is. It’s
also a little clammy. With his other hand, he reaches up and presses his palm to Chan’s
forehead. His skin is burning, clammy and he’s starting to sweat.
“Chris,” Minho says, his hand feeling Chan’s cheeks. “Where’s your meds?”
Chan closes his eyes and Minho hears his breathing starting to speed up. It happens really
quickly, the way his skin breaks out into a cold sweat, the pink rises in his cheeks and his
eyes start to quiver a little. Minho stands up and starts patting Chan’s clothes down in search
of the pill bottle.
“Chris, talk to me,” he says, a little more urgently. “Where are they?”
Chan mumbles something incoherent and Minho looks at him.
“What?”
“S’not...the meds,” Chan manages to say. He’s leaning into Minho now, practically leaning
off his chair and Minho can’t tell if it’s because he needs comfort or because of the tumour.
“Minho...no hospital.”
“What?”
Minho doesn’t get the chance to say any more because in that moment, Chan’s slight weight
turns into his full weight as he leans straight into Minho and falls off his chair. In a moment
of panic, Minho catches him as much as he can, watching in horror as his chair collapses
sideways and Chan is suddenly in his arms. His eyes are closed, his body is boiling hot and
he’s convulsing.
“Chris!” Minho screams, terrified as he tries to hold Chan still. His brain goes numb, he has
no idea what to do and all he can do is hold Chan on his lap and watch his entire body
convulse in a full-on seizure.
“Chris!”
God’s Menu is closed. The parking lot is empty. No one is around. No one hears him.
Chapter End Notes
Hello again!
I don't know how long this is gonna last but for now we are on a roll and I'm thoroughly
enjoying it. If you've ever been on a rollercoaster, I like to call this part of the story as
the part where after a long and agonising climb to the top of the hill, you're about to fall
over the edge and rush through the twists and turns that await you.
For that, I don't envy you :)
INTRODUCING a side story that accompanies this one. You don't have to read it, think
of it as an extra. You can get through this story just fine without it but for those who
want a little more, want to see what's happening behind the scenes and want to see more
ATEEZ, I give you this.
IN VENERE VERITAS
As always thank you so much for all your comments and love, it helps this story survive
and gets me through every single difficult chapter and makes the end so, so worth it :)
See you next time!
Zara
XXV:Veritas liberabit
Chapter Notes
Gets a little abstract at the end but I hope you get what I'm going for with that...
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
Seungmin is woken in the godawful hours of the morning with a pounding migraine and the
mother of all hangovers.
It takes him a few moments to realise that what woke him was the incessant knocking on his
door and as he rips the blankets off himself and gets up, he vows to kill the asshole on the
other end.
A lump in his bed groans and Seungmin has vague memories of what he’d done last night.
He’d taken Jisung’s advice to the letter, got shitfaced and ended up going home with someone
whose name he didn’t bother to get. Not a bad night, not particularly memorable either.
He taps the lump in his bed and hears the groan again.
“Hey,” he says. “You gotta get going. I’ve got work in an hour.”
He doesn’t but he’d rather not have the awkward morning after if he can help it.
After he receives an affirmative grunt, he throws a dressing gown over his body and when
he’s sure he’s covered, he heads down the hallway where the door is still incessantly
knocking. With a ready glare, he rips the door open.
“What?!” he barks.
Hwang Hyunjin is standing on the other side of the door with a dog in his arms.
Blinking, Seungmin stares at him for a good ten minutes before he can think to form words.
In the meantime, the dog barks quietly and snuggles into Hyunjin, as if sensing he’s here to
drop her off.
“What’s this?” Seungmin finally asks.
“This is Honey,” Hyunjin explains, nodding to the dog in his arms. “I need you to take her for
a little while.”
“Why?” Seungmin blinks. “Isn’t she Innie’s dog? Where’s Innie?”

Anyone else might have missed the subtle change in Hyunjin’s face but Seungmin has the
advantage of having grown up with him. He catches it. The slightest flinch that tells him all
he needs to know - something is really wrong with Jeongin.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“What. Did. You. Do?!” Seungmin demands. “Don’t bullshit me Hyunjin, I know you and I
know Innie’s been having mental issues lately, what the fuck did you do?!”
“I didn’t do anything! He was going that way anyway!” Hyunjin screams back.
Silence falls over them both and Seungmin narrows his eyes. It’s not like Hyunjin to be so
cagey about anything, if he’d deliberately gone and pushed Jeongin over the edge, he’d have
bragged about it but his reaction this time tells him that Jeongin had done something he
hadn’t predicted. Something he had no control over.
“Going what way?” Seungmin asks, his voice a little quieter this time for the sake of his
neighbours (and his migraine)
Hyunjin averts his eyes and Honey must sense that something’s off with him because she
turns in his arms and leans up to lick his neck and chin. The fact that he lets her, surprises
Seungmin. He knew Jeongin loved the dog. He didn’t realise Hyunjin loved her too, he just
thought Hyunjin got her for Jeongin.
Seungmin deliberately puts his hand out to hold the other side of the doorframe to stop
Hyunjin coming in.
“If you want me to take the dog, tell me why.”
Hyunjin sighs and hitches Honey up in his arms. He lets her lick his cheek and tuck her face
into his shoulder as he finally meets Seungmin’s eyes.
“He’s been edging towards this for awhile. He just got there faster than I thought he would.”
That morning, Hyunjin had woken to the horrible light of the sun streaming in through their
window. His hangover wasn’t actually that bad because he hadn’t actually had that much to
drink.
Strange thing, alcohol. It provides other people the escape they very much need but Hyunjin
never really cared for it. He could drink, he could get shitfaced but it would never cure him of
the real problems he had in his head, it wouldn’t make him forget anything and he rather
liked being in control. Being drunk was very much not in control so where he could, he
moderated himself.
Jeongin, on the other hand, had gotten absolutely wasted and by the time they got home, poor
Honey had to watch Hyunjin carrying a mumbling and slurring Jeongin in through the door.
Hyunjin had had to dump him on the bed and leave him drooling there whilst he set water
and painkillers on the bedside table. He undressed the other because Jeongin was in no state
to do it himself and it was only after he’d managed to get Jeongin into bed that he could fill
Honey’s bowl and feed her.
Turning to watch his sleeping boyfriend in the morning light, Hyunjin ignores the slight pain
in his head in favour of watching Jeongin’s peaceful face. He trails his finger down the bridge
of his nose, along his jaw and leans in to press little kisses to his neck and shoulder.
“Innie,” he breathes, his arm draping over the other. “Wake up, Innie.”
Jeongin stirs and when he opens his eyes, Hyunjin watches the lightest hue of honey brown.
Jeongin’s eyes are one of his favourite features about him. Big bambi eyes that often look lost
and too innocent for the world, they tell Hyunjin everything he needs to know with one
glance. Jeongin wears his heart on his sleeve, his emotions show in his eyes and Hyunjin
loves him for it, he loves that he can tell what Jeongin is feeling. If he’s scared, if he’s
confused, if he’s happy or sad, Hyunjin can always tell first thing in the morning.
But this morning when Jeongin opens his eyes and looks at him, Hyunjin watches those
bambi eyes he loves so much turn dark.
“Innie?”
Jeongin looks over him and tilts his head, he reaches a hand up to cup Hyunjin’s cheek in his
palm and it feels different. It’s still his Jeongin but at the same time…
Honey comes in through the door and jumps up onto the bed. As soon as she appears,
Jeongin jumps and looks at her.
It’s different. Honey usually jumps right up and licks his face, he’s usually happy to see her
but this morning she’d startled him. Perhaps it’s that or maybe it’s something she senses but
she takes one look at him and she doesn’t come any closer. Instead she stares at him and goes
to Hyunjin instead.
She barks and Jeongin jumps again, Hyunjin can hear the hitch in his breathing, he can see
the way his eyes waver and he suddenly understands what’s going on.
Honey isn’t safe near Jeongin anymore.
“I don’t know how long you’ll have her but for now, I need you to take her,” Hyunjin tells
Seungmin. He holds the dog out, ignoring the way Honey whimpers. She clearly doesn’t
want to leave Hyunjin, she knows him. She doesn’t know Seungmin.
Seungmin stares at him and slowly reaches out to take Honey. She’s shaking a little,
whimpering and with one hand he strokes her head whilst the other keeps her against his
chest.
“Is Innie safe?” Seungmin asks. “I mean...near us?”
“Innie’s fine,” Hyunjin says. “He’s still the same Innie. It’s not a complete personality change
and some of you might not even realise what’s happening to him, it’s just...if he comes back,
he probably won’t remember anything he’s been doing. It’s dissociation, that’s all.”
Seungmin doesn’t believe him. “You mean, when?”
Hyunjin looks confused and Seungmin elaborates. “You said ‘if he comes back’. Don’t you
mean ‘when’?”
Hyunjin is quiet for too long. Far longer than Seungmin likes.
“No,” Hyunjin says. “I mean if.”
Minho wakes up with a sore neck. The armchairs in the hospital are these awful, cheap
leather torture devices - probably strategically placed there to stop relatives sleeping over. He
hears the sound of the call buttons, the distant sound of nurses wandering up and down the
hall and in the small room he’s in, Chan’s breathing is steady on the bed.
He’d panicked. He’d completely panicked last night and he hadn’t known what to do. Calling
an ambulance despite Chan’s wishes seemed the only logical thing to do.
When they’d been taken in and seen to, what made the entire situation more real to Minho
was the fact that some of the doctors, particularly the brain ones, knew Chan already. They’d
seen him, he’d been their patient and although they didn’t tell Minho much, Minho was able
to decipher that they’d known about Chan’s condition for months.
“He refused medication,” Dr Lim said, sometime after the fourth and fifth routine visits over
the night. “And of course, you know we can’t force our patients to do anything so…”
Minho leans forward. “If he takes medication...what kind of...what are his options?”
That’s when Dr Lim looks at him and, as if realising for the first time that Minho is actually
there, asks: “Are you a relative?”
Needless to say, Minho got absolutely no answers and he’s not going to get any until Chan
wakes up.
They hadn’t been able to do much anyway. They’d come in an ambulance and once they got
to the hospital, he’d been whisked away, leaving Minho with paperwork to fill. By the time
Chan was placed into a bed, it was already really late at night and because Minho isn’t
family, he wasn’t told a thing.
He’d had to beg the nurse to let him sleep in the armchair next to Chan’s bed.
Chan starts stirring at around 11am. Minho rubs at his neck and watches Chan’s eyes open,
initial confusion quickly replaced with sudden realisation once he recognises his
surroundings.
“Minho?”
Chan slowly sits up, he looks down at the IV drip in his arm and looks at Minho on the
armchair.
“Minho...what am I doing here?”
Minho sighs and meets his eyes. “You had a seizure,” he explains. “I didn’t know what to do,
I panicked.”
“Shit.”
Chan starts ripping the needle out of his arm and Minho, alarmed, jumps to his feet to stop
him.
“What are you doing?!”
“Getting out of here,” Chan announces, throwing the drip aside as he rips the blankets off
him and starts climbing out of bed.
Minho grabs him and forces him back down again.
“The hell you are!” he yells. “Get back into bed and stay there, you’ve had a fucking
seizure!”
“I’m fine now!” Chan shouts back.
“You scared the shit out of me, you’re not getting out of this bed until a doctor clears you!”
Minho screams, his hands tight on Chan’s shoulders in an attempt to keep him down. “I
swear to fucking god, Chris, I will hold you down if I have to!”
“I’m not staying! Let me go before they-”
“What’s this?”
The familiar voice makes both of them freeze. Minho lets go of Chan so quickly as he turns
around to see Chan’s father, Prime Minister Bang himself, standing in the doorway.
He’s dressed in a three-piece suit, Minho can see two guards standing just outside the door.
The hospital must have called him in.
“Father,” Chan says, rising to his feet as well. “You didn’t need to come.”
“The hospital called me,” Chan’s father states. “They didn’t tell me exactly why but I must be
on your next-of-kin forms. What’s this about?”
“Nothing,” Chan tells him. “I just collapsed. I must have been overworking and not watching
my water intake or something.”
He steps forward, deliberately placing himself between Minho and his father. It’s a subtle
move but it does make Chan’s father finally notice that Minho is even there. His curious dark
eyes take in Minho, looking him up and down for a moment before finally recognising him.
“You’re from the restaurant.”
“He found me,” Chan explains before Minho can speak. “I’m sorry the hospital called you all
this way, really you needn’t have come. It’s just dehydration.”
It’s meant to distract. It doesn’t. Chan’s father keeps watching Minho and Minho doesn’t like
the way his eyes take him in. He recognises him, he’s seen him at the restaurant before but
he’s looking at him now like he’s noticing something he didn’t notice before.
“You call your boss by his English name?”
Minho feels it rush through him all at once. He feels the moment his stomach drops and his
hands turn cold and start to shake. He never thought himself afraid of anything, least of all
Chan’s father but in that moment, his own body betrays him and he can’t think of anything to
say in his own defence.
Chan jumps in.
“I ask him to,” he explains quickly. “Casual relations between my staff are encouraged to
maintain an easy workplace.”
Minho really doesn’t like the way Chan’s father is looking at him. Like he’s just discovered
something both Chan and Minho were trying to keep hidden. Especially from him.
“Even with their boss?” he questions.
Minho can see Chan’s back straighten, he sees his hands curl into loose fists and he can tell
the other isn’t well. He’s not well at all and yet he’s trying to hold it together to deal with this
because there is so much his father cannot know.
“Father, I am very sorry the hospital contacted you for something so trivial,” he says. “I’ll
make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
There’s a moment of silence, the air is heavy in the room and Minho can barely stand it.
Father and son are staring at each other and Chan is keeping his emotions off his face, he’s
firmly standing right in front of Minho to block his father’s view of him. His father who
looks like he’s just found something he needs to deal with.
Finally, Chan’s father nods. “See that it doesn’t happen again,” he says. “And drink some
water, you have work to do.”
Chan nods. He watches his father leave and neither of them speak for a good ten minutes.
Both stay silent, still where they stand, as though expecting his father to just come right back
and overhear more.
When he’s absolutely certain his father is gone, Chan lets out a slow exhale. His shoulders
sink a little and he relaxes just enough to turn his head and look at Minho.
“We’re leaving,” he tells him, his tone terse and firm. “Don’t fight me on this.”
Minho wants to but he knows that tone too well. Chan isn’t kidding now and all he can do is
nod and follow Chan out of the ward.
The hospital can’t hold him without his permission (which they hadn’t received last night
because he’d been unconscious) and despite the nurse saying that Chan should stay, she could
do nothing to stop him leaving.
Minho trails close behind, worry edging his mind as he watches Chan call for a driver.
“I’m taking you home first,” Chan tells him once he’s ended his call. He puts his phone back
in his pocket and Minho wishes he’d look at him.
Chan’s back is like a massive brick wall when he’s angry. His shoulders tighten, jaw sets and
his back is the worst part because Minho can feel it. He’s furious, he’s worried, his mind is
thinking when it doesn’t have the energy to.
“Chris-”
“Don’t,” Chan cuts him off firmly. “Stop. Just...stop calling me that.”
Minho knows why but it hurts regardless. As far as he knows, he’s the only person who calls
him Chris, not even Felix, Jisung or Changbin do it. He can’t remember why he started, he
just does it naturally.
He only ever calls him Chan when he’s around the others.
Still, he’s never been one to back down from a fight and the fact that the nurses and doctors
wanted Chan to stay is making Minho worried. Chan shouldn’t be out and about, he should
be resting. He should be drugged up to his eyeballs if it’ll stop him from ever having a
seizure again.
“You really shouldn’t leave the hospital,” he says. He watches the set of Chan’s shoulders
tighten a little more, it’s like he’s poking him with a steel rod instead of trying to get him to
listen to reason.
“Did you see those doctors? They looked worried, they really didn’t want you to leave.”
“They know my condition,” Chan replies coldly. “That’s all. There’s nothing they can do and
I won’t get anything done lying on my back. I told you not to bring me here!”
Minho fights to keep a wince from showing on his face. It’s rare that Chan’s infamous temper
is ever pointed at him.
“Oh I’m sorry, did I agree to that?” he snaps back.
Finally fed up, he grabs Chan’s shoulder and forces him to turn around and look at him. The
look on Chan’s face is dark, eyes glowering, mouth set in a firm line, he’s not happy but
neither is Minho and both of them are standing out here in the cold waiting for a driver. They
have time to fight.
“I get that you don’t want anyone else to know how sick you are but you’re not making this
easy on yourself or me,” Minho hisses at him. “If you want me to keep your secret, you have
to let me help you.”
“Taking me to the hospital is not helping me!” Chan snaps. “Now my father knows
something’s wrong and he’s the last person who should ever know! If he senses any
weakness or thinks for a second that I’m incapable of doing this-”
“I will never understand your obsession with helping your father, Chris!” Minho screams. He
doesn’t care that they’re standing right outside the hospital and the people milling in and out
can see them. He just doesn’t care, he’s angry, he’s tired and he’s scared. “The man made you
marry for a fucking business deal, he doesn’t give a shit about you at all, he is the last person
in the world who should ever be the president, why the fu-”
Chan grabs his arm and pulls him aside. Minho follows as Chan takes him away from the
entranceway, where people were starting to stare, and further out towards the parking lot.
Minho stumbles, struggling to follow Chan’s long strides but when they’re further out and
safe from prying ears, Chan lets him go and turns back to look at him.
“You may not understand my reasons but I need you to understand me,” he says, voice low as
though they were still in public and others can still hear them. “I have worked too hard and
too long to get to this point. I can’t have it fucked up because of something like this.”
Minho scoffs. “Something like an incurable fatal brain tumour, maybe?” he spits. “You can
work hard all you like but your own body is killing you and you’re speeding up the process
by walking away from hospitals and refusing treatment.”
“The only treatment they could give me would make it obvious to everyone else that
something’s wrong,” Chan points out, frustrated. “My hair would fall out, I’d start getting
sick-”
“If it buys you a few more months of living-”
“It wouldn’t cure me, Minho,” Chan says. “Yes, it would buy me time. But at the cost of
everyone else finding out that something’s wrong. I can’t have that happen, no one can know
what’s wrong with me. It’s bad enough that Innie knows!”
“Wait…” Minho frowns, Chan hadn’t mentioned that before. “Innie knows?”
Chan looks like he’s in pain again. He steps back to hold his head and Minho’s torn between
being too angry at him to help and wanting to help even if it’s just to hold his head for him.
“He overheard us fighting,” Chan finally says, all the anger gone from his voice and now he
just sounds exhausted. “And then on my wedding day...I had a massive migraine and he just
happened to be there. He saw the medication and figured it out.”
“And he promised not to tell anyone?” Minho frowns. At the very least, he’d expect Jeongin
to have told Hyunjin.
“I asked him not to,” Chan sighs. “I don’t know if he’ll keep his promise but I can’t...I stand
too much to lose if the wrong people find out about this.
“The wrong people?”
“Han, Bin, Felix and especially my father,” Chan lists. He then looks up at Minho and nods
to him. “You.”
Minho averts his eyes and there’s something heavy in the air. It’s the same thing that hovers
between them whenever they’re alone, the elephant in the room that neither have
acknowledged since that first night they spent together.
It has a name. Neither of them are willing to say it aloud.
Finally, Minho breaks the silence.
“I know you have things you want to do,” he says. “But you need to face reality: you’re
dying. You can’t do this alone. If you expect me to just keep your secrets, you’ve got to let
me help you. Because if I don’t know why you’re doing this or how to help you, I’m going to
keep doing things like this.”
He gestures to the hospital and faces Chan properly.
Chan is looking at him the same way Jisung looks at him sometimes. His eyes, slightly warm
and slightly exasperated - as if he’s just realised that not having Minho in his life would make
his world go dark. But having Minho in his life makes a lot of things difficult.
Minho meets his eyes and comes a little closer. He stands in front of Chan and brushes his
hand slightly over Chan’s. Just a brush, enough to let the other know he’s there.
“Let me in,” he begs quietly. “Don’t do this alone.”
Over Minho’s shoulder, Chan spots his driver approaching them. He takes a deep breath and
Minho’s right, he can’t do this alone. He wants to, he’s stubborn enough to try but if he keeps
doing it this way, it might not be Minho who sees him having a seizure next time. It could be
Changbin or Jisung...god forbid it be Felix.
“Is it okay if we go to yours?” Chan asks.
Minho nods and when the car rolls up beside them, Chan takes a deep breath.
“I have a lot to tell you,” he mumbles quietly.
Minho leans over and opens the door for him. “We have all afternoon.”
Hyunjin watches Jeongin pace around the living room. It’s quite interesting to watch him.
Watch the thoughts race past his eyes, watch his hands shake as he tries to make sense of his
scrambled mind.
“It’s like…” Jeongin says after a moment, his eyes are still all over the place and everywhere
but on Hyunjin. “It’s like...I’m suddenly remembering things I don’t want to remember.”
“Like what?” Hyunjin asks as he crosses one leg over the other and leans back into the couch.
“Like...this one time, I remember watching my mother put something in my drink. I knew it
wasn’t good but when she put it in my hand I…” Jeongin pauses and frowns. “I don’t
remember drinking it, but I must have.”
Hyunjin hums. “What else?”
“I remember every single animal I killed,” Jeongin continues, his feet pacing once again
along the living room floor. “With my bare hands, sometimes with a knife or a fork or
whatever I had near me. The dogs were always barking at me, the cats howled at night when
they were in heat…”
“Yeah, cats do that,” Hyunjin says, a little dismissively. “Anything else?”
Jeongin groans and holds his head in his hand. “I remember everything. I remember too
much. I’m remembering things I don’t want to...Hyunjin…”
Hyunjin looks over him curiously. Finally, he pushes himself to his feet and crosses over the
room where he takes Jeongin’s face and holds it still by his chin. Leaning in, Hyunjin
observes his eyes for a few moments and in there, he can see a lot of pain but also something
that kind of reminds him of an animal that’s been pushed too far and is one second away from
snapping at anything that gets too close to it.
“I have a theory,” he begins as he sees the hue of Jeongin’s eyes. The absence of the
innocence he’s so used to seeing in him. “Your mind is a fascinating thing, Innie, but it’s been
bashed around for years. It’s no wonder you’re missing pieces.”
Jeongin blinks at him and Hyunjin lets his chin go. Instead he wraps his arms around
Jeongin’s middle to hold him close.
“I have a theory that your black outs and the fact that you zip from dark Innie to innocent
Innie isn’t as clear cut as most might think,” Hyunjin says, swaying a little with Jeongin
leaning into him. “I think you black out at least once a day, it’s just sometimes it’s only for a
few seconds.”
Jeongin blinks at him and Hyunjin tilts his head.
“I think you’ve been blacking out and shifting in and out all your life. It’s just that we only
notice when you do it for long periods of time,” Hyunjin surmises. “And both states are still
you, you are my innocent Innie and my dark Innie.”
Jeongin still looks a little confused but there’s something else to it. There’s something a little
more focussed about the way Jeongin stands, the way he talks, even in the way he breathes.
It’s a little more in control, less meek and scared and a little more…
Hyunjin isn’t quite sure what it is but he likes it.
He brings a hand up to cup the side of Jeongin’s face, eyes taking in every detail. God knows
that over the past year, he’s studied Jeongin meticulously. Every single detail from the
softness of his jet black locks to the natural doe innocence of his eyes to the set of his braces,
the sensitive areas of his neck, the sounds he lets out when Hyunjin touches him, how
receptive his body is to him.
When it comes to Jeongin, there’s not much Hyunjin fails to notice. If anything at all.
Jeongin reaches a hand up to hold Hyunjin’s wrist. Cold fingers grip skin and the catch of
Hyunjin’s threaded bracelet.
Hyunjin could swear Jeongin’s body heat dropped a few degrees since this switch.
“Do you remember what we did the other day?” he asks, testing the grounds of Jeongin’s
fractured memories.
The morning after they’d cut open that man in the construction site, Jeongin claimed not to
remember anything. He was probably telling the truth, or he simply didn’t want to remember
anything. He’d fainted the second he’d seen the body but the next day it was like it didn’t
happen at all.
Except it did and Hyunjin hadn’t missed the way Jeongin went pale when he read about the
news of the body on the internet.
“Yeah,” Jeongin mumbles, his eyes averting as he remembers. “He was too loud and I wanted
to…”
He trails off a little and Hyunjin hums. Jeongin has probably never voiced these thoughts out
loud before. He traces his fingers along the side of Jeongin’s face to make him look up at
him.
“You wanted to?” he prompts gently. “Tell me.”
He sees Jeongin swallow and it’s not the same as he was before. An almost psychopathic
coldness lay in his gaze, one that most definitely hadn’t been there before.
“Let’s go somewhere,” Jeongin suggests quietly. He looks around the living room, as though
the walls are caving in on him already. “I don’t want to stay inside.”
Hyunjin checks the time. It’s just a little after five in the afternoon. Today is their only day
off, tomorrow they’ll be back in the restaurant and he has the strangest feeling that Jeongin
isn’t going to ‘change’ or ‘wake up’ as quickly as he’d done before. Something in him
snapped this time, Hyunjin can see it and he can’t help but be curious about what this now
means.
“Where do you want to go?” Hyunjin asks. Already he’s leading Jeongin to the front door.
Jeongin follows, he shakes his head and reaches for his shoes. “Anywhere,” he says.
“Anywhere else.”
Hyunjin studies Jeongin and he understands the fact that Jeongin does seem to enjoy hurting
other people and animals. He gets that part. For a boy who had little to no control in his own
life, it completely makes sense. When people have little control over their lives, they start
hurting themselves. Cutting, throwing up and binge eating, general self harm was sometimes
the only way they could have any control.
Jeongin hadn’t just hurt himself, he hurt others too. He found a sense of peace, a euphoria in
doing it and Hyunjin understood that with perfect clarity.
But where he might have gotten away with killing all the animals in his neighbourhood when
he was a child, he won’t so easily get away with just killing anyone here. With the restaurant,
there’s a system. Chan, Changbin and Jisung make people disappear and they have
connections to ensure the police won’t come back to them when they’re investigating.
Out here, it’s a little different and they only got away with that last one because Hyunjin had
been controlling the situation.
Jeongin likely wouldn’t have the foresight to think about security cameras or picking his
victims carefully. He’s more impulse - which Hyunjin appreciates fully but it has to be honed.
He’s about to answer when his phone buzzing in his pocket makes Jeongin jump. Both look
down as Hyunjin pulls his phone out and groans at the sight of Felix’s name on the screen.
He shoots Jeongin a look and begrudgingly hits the answer button.
“Little busy here, Lix.”

“Well too bad, come out with me,” Felix’s cheerful voice calls on the other end. In the
background, Jeongin and Hyunjin can hear barely muffled music. He sounds like he’s in a
club. “I’m out with Bin, I can’t get hold of Chan for some reason, Han and Minho are MIA
too and Seungmin says he has something to do. They’re all killjoys! Come out!”
“Two consecutive nights of getting wasted,” Hyunjin teases. “Chan would not be happy with
you.”
“I’m not saying get drunk, I’m just saying come out!” Felix chuckles. “Come oooon,
please?”
Hyunjin sighs, he doesn’t know what brought about this sudden need to go out all the time
but it is kind of convenient. Nothing’s better than a large, crowded room with too many drunk
people and not nearly enough cameras. People go missing all the time, especially when they
can’t remember what they were doing.
He looks over at Jeongin to see the other shrug.
“Better than staying at home,” he mumbles. “I wanted to go out anyway.”
“Fine, we’ll come out,” Hyunjin answers Felix.
He pulls his phone away from his ear just in time to avoid Felix’s gleeful albeit deafening
squealing. Jeongin raises an eyebrow and when he’s sure he’s safe again, Hyunjin puts the
phone back to his ear.
“Awesome! I’ll text you the address!”
Felix hangs up after an incoherent babble, something about dressing for a club and Hyunjin
rolls his eyes. This is exactly why he didn’t want a social life. He turns to Jeongin and wraps
his arms around Jeongin’s small waist again.
“We can find our own fun there,” he promises. “But you can’t just act alone, you’ll get
caught. Do what I say and we can have some real fun.”
He loves the cold smile on Jeongin’s face.
It matches his own.
Felix is well beyond the point of wasted by the time they get there. The club is alive as
though it never closed the night before and Hyunjin could swear he sees the same people in
that sea of bodies grinding on the dance floor.
A desperate, sweat-soaked sea of raw sexual need with just a pinch of alcohol.
As they head for the seating areas, Felix meets them halfway by throwing his arms around
Jeongin’s shoulders first. Hyunjin sees Jeongin flinch and if Felix were sober, he’d have
noticed it too but he doesn’t and after a moment, Jeongin relaxes in his hold. He’s too used to
him to do anything else.
Changbin appears shortly afterwards and Hyunjin can see the strain in his smile, something’s
off.
“Let’s get you guys drinks,” Felix suggests, his hand already around Jeongin’s as though it
had been previously decided that Jeongin would be stuck to his side tonight. “Jinnie, what are
you having?”
Hyunjin sees a moment of confusion paint Jeongin’s features before he looks at him and
mouths ‘Jinnie?’
“Surprise me,” Hyunjin says.
Felix whisks Jeongin away towards the bar and when they’re gone, Hyunjin turns his eyes to
Changbin. The smile is gone, he’s worried.
Hyunjin sighs, he’s not good with the emotional side of dealing with people but he can do it.
It’s like slipping on a mask of pretending to care and it’s a little easier when it’s about Felix
because he does actually care. Not a hell of a lot but enough to make a difference.
“What’s wrong?” he asks as Changbin leads him back to their booth.
He slides into the leather seats, ignoring the fact that the floor is sticky under the table and he
can see Changbin doing the same. The music is still thumping hard against the walls, loud
enough that they have to raise their voices to talk but it’s admittedly a little easier up here in
the seating area than down there on the dance floor.
“I don’t know,” Changbin finally admits. “Last night he got a call from his sister...I
think...and he’s been almost manic ever since. This morning he suggested coming back here
and I tried to tell him that we both had hangovers and two nights in a row wouldn’t be much
fun but he was adamant.”
Hyunjin frowns. “Do you know what his sister was calling about?”
“He won’t tell me,” Changbin tells him ruefully. “I’ve asked, I’ve pressed but he’s staying
quiet. Once we got here he started drinking right away and it doesn’t take a genius to figure
out something’s wrong but he’s not talking to me.”
Hyunjin hasn’t seen Felix like this either. He can’t recall any instance where Felix
wasn’t….Felix. Even when they were both initiated into the truth of the restaurant, Felix
somehow managed to remain his sweet, cheerful self.
He wouldn’t have thought Felix to be one for drowning his sorrows either.
But if Felix isn’t talking to Changbin, he’ll talk to Chan. Hyunjin sees the wince in
Changbin’s face when he mentions it.
“He’s not answering his phone,” Changbin says. “No one else is either, you two are the only
ones who did. Thanks for that, by the way. I’m not sure he would have been alright with just
me if he’s not talking to me.”
In a way, Hyunjin can relate. There are times when Jeongin doesn’t want to talk to him.
They’re rare but when that happens, Hyunjin doesn’t know what he can do to make the other
speak. When Jeongin clams up, he clams up tight and no amount of threatening him, banging
on doors or demanding that he speak will make him do so.
Hyunjin has tried.
Felix and Jeongin return before long, copious amounts of alcohol stacked on the trays they’re
carrying. Jeongin shoots Hyunjin a look as he puts the tray down and slides into the booth to
sit next to him.
“I brought shots,” Felix announces proudly as he squeezes in next to Changbin. “Let’s drink,
I need to forget.”
Changbin winces. “Forget what, baby?”
“Don’t be such a downer, that’s exactly why I need to drink. To forget and not remember,”
Felix slurs.
Changbin shoots Hyunjin a worried look as Felix reaches over for the first shot. He picks out
the lemon slotted on the side of the glass and makes quick work of downing the drink and the
lemon in succession.
“Someone drink with me!” he whines. “I can’t be the only one downing shots alone.”
“We do have work tomorrow,” Changbin points out, albeit reluctantly.
“Boooooo,” Felix pouts. “Downer.”
“I’ll drink,” Hyunjin says, smiling at Jeongin’s surprised stare.
Felix just cheers, he reaches for another drink and Changbin looks more scared than
concerned as the two down their shots at the exact same time, slamming both empty glasses
down on the table with the same intensity.
Jeongin drinks, but not shots. He watches as Hyunjin matches Felix for every shot he has and
as the night wears on, Felix’s inebriation reaches to the point where he wants to move at last.
“Come on,” he insists, dragging Hyunjin by his collar because Changbin refused to move.
“Dance with me, I can’t stay seated.”
Hyunjin squeezes Jeongin’s hand before he leaves. He feels Jeongin and Changbin’s eyes on
his back the whole time he stumbles after Felix. Through crowds, down stairs and finally
onto the floor where he sees the hard line of Felix’s shoulders relax just a little.
The music is pounding against both their skulls. Felix starts to move and Hyunjin watches
him closely. Felix is a born dancer, the way he moves is almost liquid and Hyunjin seems to
be one of the few people who can match him.
Hyunjin can dance, he just doesn’t do it if he can avoid it at all.
Not tonight.
There’s a distinct difference in the way they move and the way the people around them move.
Felix is off his face but even when he’s inebriated, he’s in time with the beat and rhythm of
the music pounding through the club.
“Lix,” Hyunjin finally speaks as his hand catches Felix’s waist and keeps him close so he
doesn’t dance into someone else. “Tell me what’s wrong with you.”
Felix laughs in his face.
“Nothing!” he chirps. “Nothing at all! Nothing’s wrong with me! Everything’s fine!”
Hyunjin narrows his eyes but that’s when Felix wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls
them both a little closer.
“You know, it’s a shame we’re brothers,” Felix says, words slurred and eyes wild as he holds
Hyunjin in place. “We could have been good.”
“Don’t,” Hyunjin winces. He tries to pull Felix off him but the other has him in a vice grip
now. “Lix, let go.”
“Would have been easier,” Felix sniffs. “Because you don’t love anything, do you Hyunjin?
It’s hard to love you because of how you are, that’s what would have made it easier.”
“Lix,” Hyunjin tries again, this time a small tone of warning in his voice. “Let me go.”
“I didn’t come to South Korea for this,” Felix continues and he can’t hear Hyunjin. He’s lost
in his own mind, Hyunjin can tell. “I didn’t come here for this, I didn’t come here for the
restaurant or the secrets or Changbin, I didn’t...this wasn’t the plan…”
“Lix,” Hyunjin winces but Felix is already nestling his face in Hyunjin’s shoulder.
His whole body weight leans against Hyunjin and for such a small person, he’s surprisingly
heavy. Hyunjin hooks an arm around him and looks around as he feels something wet on his
neck, Felix is crying.
It’s there, surrounded by strangers, in the heat of bodies and deafening music that Hyunjin
hears Felix whisper something in his ear. Small and quiet and at first he doesn’t really hear it
because of the noise but Felix presses his lips to Hyunjin’s ear and whispers: “I’m sorry.”
He pulls away from Hyunjin’s arms and runs, disappearing into the crowd just as Changbin
appears next to Hyunjin.
“Where’d he go?” Changbin asks, his eyes wide in fear.
A little stunned, Hyunjin points towards the back of the club where Felix had run off and
Changbin takes off after him.
Just as he’s contemplating whether or not he should go after Felix as well, he feels a hand
touching his arm. He turns to see Jeongin next to him, his dark eyes searching Hyunjin
questioningly.
“I have no idea what’s wrong with him,” Hyunjin confesses honestly.
Jeongin nods. He takes a step closer to Hyunjin, his eyes scanning the floor as if he’s only
just noticed he’s in a crowd. If the loud animals made him uneasy when he was a child, then
this would certainly make him extremely uncomfortable. As it is, his hand around Hyunjin’s
arm tightens just a little.
“Now can we play?” Jeongin asks and it’s the way he says it. It’s the way his big, doe eyes
look up at Hyunjin and it reminds him of a child.
Hyunjin’s eyes scan the area and in his arms, Jeongin snuggles into his chest. Through the
discord of mindless sound comes the trill of laughter from the bar. Both Jeongin and
Hyunjin’s gazes zero in on the small crowd of men and women at the bar. All in various
levels of inebriation.
“Hmm,” Jeongin purrs, his body leaning closer to Hyunjin. He slips his arms around
Hyunjin’s shoulders and the smile on his face matches Hyunjin’s.
“Let’s play,” Hyunjin grins.
The air outside is freezing when Changbin rushes out from the stifling heat of the club.
There’s a queue of people waiting to get in, a line of cars parked along the curb and people
walking past in search of other venues but he doesn’t see any sign of Felix.
He rushes a hand through his hair and he wishes he could have picked up on the warning
signs earlier. Felix hadn’t been alright this morning and he hadn’t been alright all day. At first
Changbin thought it was just a hangover, a nasty remnant from overdoing it the night before
but it’s obvious something else is terribly, terribly wrong.
“Felix!” he calls.
The people waiting in line shoot him curious looks as he looks left and right, trying to figure
out where Felix might have run off to. It’s dangerous, he’s drunk and god knows what’s going
on in his mind. Changbin doesn’t trust him alone right now.
Taking a chance on the left, Changbin grits his teeth as he runs down the footpath, dodging
clubbers and people out on a date.
He doesn’t run far, a sniffle in the alley draws his attention to the space just beside the club
building. Changbin pauses, his eyes squinting as he spots the telltale blonde mop of Felix’s
hair hiding just behind the dumpster bins. As he approaches, he notices the redness of Felix’s
nose, his bloodshot eyes and he looks so miserable that Changbin’s heart aches.
“Lix…”
Felix sinks down to sit on the ground and Changbin crouches down to join him. Felix is so
small, his knees drawn up to his chin, his shoulders shuddering with sobs he stifles with his
fist pressed to his mouth.
Changbin reaches out and he half expects Felix to flinch away but he doesn’t. Instead he
leans in, his eyes fluttering shut as Changbin touches his hair and gently moves his fingers
down to cup the side of his face.
Felix’s sobs come to a shuddering stop and instead he sighs.
“Sorry,” he blubbers, his hands rub at his face until his skin turns pink from the effort. “I’m a
mess tonight.”
“Hey, talk to me,” Changbin says, keeping his tone light as he reaches up to stop Felix
rubbing so hard at his face. “Talk to me, I’m right here.”
Felix just shakes his head, his hands move, fingers clutching Changbin’s sleeve as though he
needs the physical reminder that Changbin is there - since the verbal and visual doesn’t seem
to be enough. Changbin studies Felix’s features and it’s no secret he’s beyond worried.
“You were fine most of today,” he points out. “Is everything alright at home? That phone call
seems to have triggered it.”
“Everything’s fine,” Felix sniffs, one sleeve coming up to rub gently at his nose. “Everyone’s
fine, it’s just...I dunno. It just hit me all of a sudden.”
Changbin’s eyebrows furrow in concern. He doesn’t want to push too much, lest Felix clam
up and tell him nothing but at the same time he’s not used to seeing Felix like this. Felix is
happy, cheerful and Changbin knows that realistically, Felix can’t be like that all the time. He
can’t even recall a moment when he was sad.
He wonders if Chan can.
“I’m really close with my sisters, you know?” Felix says, voice wobbling still as he rubs at
his nose until he’s satisfied it’s not going to drip. “And my mum...and my dad too, we’re all
really close. I came to Korea because...well...I had a life to start and I wanted to start it here. I
didn’t expect things to turn out the way they did.”
Even without a cannibalistic restaurant, life had a funny habit of throwing curveballs and
continuously surprising people with what lay around corners. Changbin could understand
that. He couldn’t relate with being close to family but he could understand that Felix couldn’t
have predicted his life to turn out like this.
Hell...Changbin never predicted his life would be like this either.
“That phone call was just them checking in, it wasn’t anything new but I guess it just hit me
between the eyes - wow, I live in another country, far away from them. I’m part of a
restaurant with the biggest secret in the world and somehow I’m okay with it. And...I have
you.”
Changbin feels a shiver rush through him when Felix finally meets his gaze. He’s so weak for
Felix, he’d do anything to stop himself ever having to see that boy cry ever again.
“It just...it hit me and I guess I panicked and decided to go get drunk again which really
wasn’t the best way to handle it but I didn’t know what else to do,” Felix babbles, nerves
getting the better of him as he averts his eyes and tries to put his thought process into some
sort of order. “Even worse, I pulled Innie and Hyunjin into it-”
“I assure you, those two will be fine,” Changbin interjects.
“I still…” Felix sniffs, his gaze softening when he looks at Changbin again. “I’m sorry...I
really panicked. I don’t deal well with feeling overwhelmed and I really did feel
overwhelmed. To make things worse, you have like...two heads and four hands and it’s
tripping me out.”
Despite his worry, Changbin barks a laugh. Felix seems coherent enough but he’s swaying a
little where he sits. He feels sorry for pulling everyone into his panic attack but he’s still
drunk.
“We should get you home,” Changbin suggests. “Don’t worry about Innie and Hyunjin,
they’re fine. I’d much rather spend the night with you cuddled on a couch somewhere
comfortable than in a dank, noisy club.”
Felix lets out a shaking breath but the smile on his face is genuine. “Me too,” he chuckles. “I
know I joked about us being in the prime of our lives and doing the stupid things 20-
something year olds should do but honestly, I think I’ve partied enough for the rest of my life.
I’m ready to curl up at home with a game or something and call it retirement.”
Changbin laughs, he holds out his hand and helps Felix back up onto his feet again. Felix
sways but he somehow manages to remain standing despite the fact that he’s sort of wasted.
It’s a little impressive.
“Let me say goodbye to those two first,” Felix says. “I still feel bad for calling them over
when I’m about to bail on them.”
“They’ll be fine,” Changbin assures him. “But if you need to say goodbye, go ahead. I can
get our ride ready.”
Felix beams, he leans over and Changbin feels something in him warm when the other kisses
him. As though it was always meant to be.
Then Felix skips off and Changbin pulls out his phone to call an uber.
Heading back into the heat of the club, Felix stumbles his way through the crowds, his eyes
peeled for any sign of Jeongin or Hyunjin. The pounding music rattles his skull as he checks
the seating area but finds it empty. He heads back down to the dance floor and scans the
crowds.
Hyunjin should be the easiest to spot. He’d know that head of long hair anywhere but after a
few minutes of thoroughly scanning every person he comes across, none of them seem
familiar. They’re not at the bar either.
Frowning, Felix’s eyes scan the club before they finally settle on the bathroom doors.
It’s….possible they went in there. Though he’s not sure he wants to catch them in the middle
of fucking on a dirty toilet stall or something.
Still, his mother always taught him to be polite and who knows, maybe getting caught will
motivate them to fuck somewhere more hygenic. He might actually be doing them a favour.
Felix cuts through the crowd, working his way through until he’s off the floor and closer to
the bathroom doors. There’s a steady line outside the women’s bathrooms - as usual - but the
mens is blessedly empty.
Putting his hand on the door, Felix prepares himself for the possibility of getting an eyeful as
he pushes the door open.
The first thing he sees is the dirty white tiles of the bathroom floor. He hears the steady drip
of one of the taps and when he walks in, he looks over at the stalls. Five in total, four with
their doors wide open and one closed.
Just as he’s about to call out their names, something else catches his eye. Something scarlet,
dark in hue and shining just a little under the harsh blinking lights on the ceiling. Felix
frowns, he stops in his place and he’s drunk, his sight is a little all over the place but he
recognises it when he sees it.
Blood.
It’s seeping out from under the closed stall. Felix feels his entire body go cold, his mind shuts
down and all he can do is stare as the puddle of blood starts to grow. Bigger and bigger,
leaking from under that stall.
“Easy, Innie,” comes Hyunjin’s voice. “The fun comes in the control and the control is only
there when your victim is alive.”
Felix can hear someone whimpering and it’s not Jeongin. It’s not Hyunjin either.
“If I finish it off, he won’t make so much noise,” Jeongin points out and Felix has never
heard him talk like that before. He’s never heard his voice like that before either.
So...confident.
“Patience,” Hyunjin says, clearly amused. “Think of it as like edging. The good stuff comes
to those who wait. Shallow cuts, Innie. He’ll bleed out eventually.”
They’re hurting someone in there. They’re killing someone in there. Felix backs away very
slowly as he hears Hyunjin talk.
“You locked the door, right?”
“Um…”
“Dammit Innie, this is how we get caught.”
They could come out and see Felix and it probably wouldn’t be a big deal. Felix is in on their
large secret after all but for some reason, Felix doesn’t want them to see him. He doesn’t
want them to know he knows about this. His feet take him out of the bathroom just as he
hears the stall open.
Felix skids out into the club again, the door swings shut behind him and a few moments later,
he hears a click. Hyunjin must not have noticed he was there but he’s now made sure no one
can catch them.
Felix’s breath comes out in a shallow stutter. He’s still cold, he’s not sure what he just
witnessed and he can’t even think about how the both of them could have been caught had it
been anyone but him who walked in just then. He knew Hyunjin could do things like this but
Jeongin? Their Innie?
Caught between the choice of confronting them both and going home to pretend he never saw
anything, Felix picks the latter and he can’t get out of the club fast enough.
His mind is still spinning all the way home.
The morning sunlight warms the side of Chan’s face.
It’s unusual for him. In the rare instances that he actually sleeps, mornings are generally a
hectic rush for him. 6am is when the phone starts going off, when people call him for various
things - mainly to do with planning events to promote his father as a viable candidate for
election. Or perhaps something will have gone wrong with the Daegu restaurant (it’s always
the Daegu one…) or maybe something happened here but this morning he just feels warmth.
It’s the kind that sinks deep into his skin, warming him from the top of his head to the tips of
his toes. His body feels heavy but a pleasant kind that tells him he’s actually had some rest.
He can faintly hear birds outside, there’s a cat purring near him but he can’t bring himself to
open his eyes and see. He just feels so content.
He vaguely remembers what had happened last night. After he and Minho had been dropped
off here by his driver, he’d told Minho everything. It hadn’t been easy either, Minho had so
many questions and together, they’d had to hash the entire thing out from start to end.
But no screaming. No arguments. Minho listened and when he didn’t understand, he asked a
question but he listened. He took it all in.
By the time Chan finished, it was late at night already. His head was pounding and he felt
drained. Minho called in takeout, they ate on the couch and watched mind numbing late night
dramas but neither were actually taking in the show. Both were thinking about the plans Chan
had, the reasons why he couldn’t just stop now - even if he was dying.
Then Minho made him take some pain medication, he fixed a cold pack to Chan’s head and
after that, Chan’s memory gets a little hazy.
He hadn’t planned on staying the night. He’d actually just planned on telling Minho
everything and then going home but his tumour had other ideas.
Something stirs to his left. Chan opens his eyes and of course, the first thing he sees is
Minho. Beautiful Lee Minho lying right next to him on the bed.
They’re both clothed, Chan’s fairly certain he didn’t do anything and he knows Minho
wouldn’t have either.
Minho is curled on his side, light brown locks splayed on the pillow and long lashes kissing
his cheeks. His breathing is deep, quiet and calming and in the orange-yellow light of the
morning sun, he somehow manages to look even more angelic than he usually is.
Chan can’t help but smile. When Minho’s awake, there’s always something about him.
Something cautious but determined. Minho’s been through a lot in his life and it shows on his
face, the slightest lines of his eyes, the set of his jaw and the hardness in his eyes.
But when he’s asleep, it’s all gone. Lines soften, his body relaxes and he’s at his most
beautiful here. When the harms and dangers of the world can’t touch him.
Chan is about to look away, maybe get up and try moving when something glints against the
morning light and catches his eye.
There, attached to the silver chain gently draped around his neck. Hidden just under the collar
of his purple cat t-shirt is the ring Chan’s mother gave him. Chan sees his own name,
Christopher, glinting back at him where it rests against Minho’s bare chest.
Chan feels something ache. Something he thought he’d squashed down and killed years ago.
Breathing suddenly becomes a lot harder and he has to look away from the sight to calm
himself down.
Perhaps it’s lucky for him that that is when life calls with the noisy clatter of his phone on the
bedside table.
Minho makes a sleepy noise and rolls over as Chan reaches out and looks at the name on his
phone. With a heavy sigh, he answers reluctantly and sits himself up.
“Father.”
“I have a job for you.”
Chan glances at Minho’s back and sees the other has gone back to sleep. He pulls the
blankets aside on his end and slips out as quietly as he can, making sure to place the blankets
back to keep Minho in his sleepy warmth. He heads out to the living room where the cats
look up curiously as Chan turns back to his phone.
“A job?”
“I don’t think I need to remind you how important all of this is,” his father continues, his tone
is a little firmer and it’s just enough to set Chan’s back on edge. “We have a reputation to
uphold as pillars of the community. If people are to vote for us, we must be perfect.”
Chan sits on the couch and stares at the four cats watching him. He has a creeping feeling he
knows what this is about.
“I know,” he answers, ensuring to keep his voice flat and unreadable. “What happened with
the hospital was unfortunate but I’ll ensure it never happens again.”
“Good.”
No word of concern, no prying for further information. Chan didn’t expect much more.
“There is an event tomorrow night,” his father continues. “A charity event, you are to be
present and visible. These people respond to family values, christian values, conservative
views and we need their votes.”
Chan frowns, he has vague memories of being told that his mother had baptised him Catholic
in Australia (against his father’s wishes) but it’s doubtful they’ll hold that against him.
His father doesn’t need to explain the details. Chan knows what these charity events are like
already. Tables draped in ironed white cloth, set meals, endless speeches and perhaps a
musical performance. His appearance would be enough to set him in the public eye and
remind them of who his father is.
By now, that’s what Chan is. An extension of his father.
“Of course, father,” Chan answers obediently.
“And Christopher.”
Chan’s back straightens like an old habit. That tone is hardwired into his brain, he’s heard it
enough when he was a child and it did the same thing then too.
“Take your wife with you,” his father says. “We must make an impression.”
The bedroom door opens and Chan looks up to see Minho. His soft hair tousled lightly, his
night clothing askew. Despite the dread creeping up the back of his neck at the implication of
his father’s words, his lips pull into a small smile at the sight of sleepy Minho.
“Of course,” he replies to his father. “I’ll prepare for it at once.”
He hangs up as Minho approaches him. Worry paints Minho’s pretty features and he hates to
see it there. He’s sorry he’s the cause.
“Restaurant opens in a few hours,” Minho says, nodding to the phone. “Who was that?”
“My father,” Chan sighs. “I’ll be busy all day if I’m heading to Seoul tomorrow.”
Minho nods, his shoulders sagging a little. Resigned that Chan must do this but a little calmer
for knowing why.
“Promise me you’ll take your medication,” he says. “And if you need help-”
“You’ll be the first to know,” Chan promises. He nudges Minho’s shoulder gently and nods to
the kitchen. “Go on, the restaurant will fall to pieces without you.”
That at least gets a laugh out of Minho. He shuffles off to the kitchen and Chan feels better
for seeing the smile. He needed that.
“So what are you doing in Seoul?” Minho asks as he reaches for a mug to make some coffee.
Chan looks down and when he doesn’t answer right away, Minho notices. He sees the strain
in Chan’s face and worry sets in again.
“What? What is it?”
“Nothing,” Chan lies with a strained smile. “I just have to make an announcement there, a
memorable one.”
Minho watches him, not catching up at all with Chan’s dread. “What kind of announcement?”
The dark look on Chan’s face says more than he can bear to say aloud.
“Innie?”
Jeongin looks up. Felix hadn’t meant to bombard him the second he came in for his shift but
he couldn’t help himself. Last night, he’d thought about it and torn through all his thoughts
and he still can’t really reconcile himself with it.
The last time he’d seen Jeongin kill anyone had been at his initiation and it had taken Jeongin
an amazing amount of effort to do it. It had torn him up inside, he’d cried, he’d had to get
drunk afterwards.
So what the fuck happened to change Jeongin from that shy little innocent boy who couldn’t
murder anyone to someone who kills people slowly in dirty toilet stalls?
It reminds Felix of the time he caught Jeongin just after he’d ripped that girl to shreds in the
freezer. He hadn’t seen it, he’d only gotten there in time to see him there, covered in blood.
God knows what he’d done to the other people he came across that night.
He feels guilty. He should have been watching Jeongin more closely.
“How are you feeling?” Jeongin asks, his hands perching on Felix’s shoulders.
Even his smile is different. It doesn’t reach his eyes anymore.
How long has he been like this?
“I’m fine,” Felix lies. He does have a slight hangover but that is entirely his own fault. “Are
you okay? You seem a little...different.”
Jeongin shrugs but his smile is still a bit different. Colder somehow, not as warm or as
relatable as it once had been. His eyes are somehow harder, what had happened to him?
“I feel a little...different,” Jeongin says, deliberately copying Felix’s tone of concern. “I’m
okay. Really.”
Felix doesn’t know what to make of it. It’s Jeongin, their Jeongin and at the same time it’s
not. It’s like he’s been kidnapped by the bodysnatchers or something because the change is so
subtle. So light that most people are probably bound to miss it. Changbin certainly hadn’t
noticed anything different last night and Seungmin hasn’t bothered to look up from where
he’s busy emptying the freezer for the morning.
Testing his grounds, Felix places his hands on Jeongin’s shoulders. He peers deep into his
eyes and Jeongin stays still to let him. He’s not as timid as he used to be, he’s not as sweet
either. By now, usually Jeongin would be noting that they have work to do, he’d be shyly
humouring Felix but bringing him back to the point that they can’t just goof off this morning.
He’d be asking him if something’s wrong, he’d try making a self conscious joke even.
But he doesn’t do anything of the sort. Instead he just looks at Felix, a little expectant. As
though he’s waiting to see what Felix will do next.
“Innie?” Felix asks.
“Yeah?”
“It is you, isn’t it Innie?”
Jeongin’s handsome features twist into an amused grin. He shakes his head and manages a
small chuckle.
“Yeah, who else would it be? How drunk are you?”
“Drunk enough that he’s forgetting we open in ten minutes and we’re nowhere near ready,”
Seungmin says from where he’s just put the last of the meat on the counter. “Come on guys, I
can’t be the only one in the kitchen here.”
“Seungmin, come here a sec?” Felix asks, his hands still gripping Jeongin’s shoulders to keep
him in place. “Please? Come see something.”
“It’s an Innie,” Seungmin replies, deadpan. “And it’ll still be an Innie even after the
restaurant opens. Come on, Lix, we don’t have time for this.”
“Please?” Felix pleads.
Maybe it’s the look in his eyes, or the tone of his voice but Seungmin rolls his eyes and drops
his work to walk towards them. He stops right in front of them and raises an eyebrow
expectantly. Felix turns Jeongin towards him.
“Look,” Felix says. “Doesn’t Innie seem a little...mature? Different, to you?”
Seungmin frowns, clearly not understanding where this is going. “If you mean he’s growing
up, well yeah he just turned twenty.”
“No, no, look at him,” Felix urges.
Jeongin, clearly confused but making no effort to stop this, moves his gaze from Felix to
Seungmin. When Seungmin looks at him, he merely shrugs and even that looks different.
Felix is sure this isn’t in his head, something is different about Jeongin. Something subtle but
also completely fundamental in his base personality.
Seungmin sighs, he looks over Jeongin and shakes his head. “He looks the same as he usually
looks, now can we get to work already? You know what Minho’s like in the morning, he’s
awful and I’d rather not get smacked by a broom this morning.”
Felix deflates a little. “You...really don’t think he’s changed?”
“I got a little taller if that’s helpful?” Jeongin offers with a tilt of his head. “And my braces
are meant to come off soon.”
“Yeah, then you’ll look really grown up,” Seungmin grins. “But nope, he looks the same to
me, Lix. We really gotta get to work now.”
Felix sighs but he lets Jeongin go. Jeongin and Seungmin head back to the benches and Felix
can’t help himself. He watches Jeongin’s back and narrows his eyes.
It’s not just growing, something in there changed. He’s sure of it.
“Pregnant?” Kaeun coughs when Chan drops the bomb on her halfway through her dress
fitting.
She’s standing on a low-rise pedestal, her arms out whilst four tiny women with pins, fabrics
and measuring tapes flit around her. One of the women shoots her a look and Kaeun rolls her
eyes before holding still just as she was before.
“Yeah, sorry,” Chan says where he’s awkwardly standing next to one of the flower
arrangements in the corner. “Father insisted we make a memorable entrance.”
“Oh yes and nothing says memorable like ‘hello, in nine months I’m about to give birth to the
spawn of Satan.’” Kaeun spits, earning herself another glare from one of the little measuring
women.
“Satan?” Chan chuckles. “I didn’t know you thought so highly of me darling.”
Kaeun fixes him with an equally sarcastic smile. “Only the best for you, pumpkin.”
“Miss, please stay still,” one of the women huffs when Kaeun’s hip moves involuntarily. “If
we are to get the measurements of this dress absolutely perfect, you must stay still.”
“Well how the hell do you expect me to stay still when you keep poking me with your
needles?!” Kaeun snaps, but she holds her arms out and the women get back to work.
Kaeun glances at Chan, her face long suffering but resigned. It’s not exactly like she gets a
choice in the matter. Neither does he. Chan doesn’t want to give his father any more reason to
suspect that he can’t do this, nor does he want his father to come to any unnecessary
conclusions that something else is distracting him.
Like Minho.
No, his father has to stay off that particular scent if Chan can help it at all.
“And what exactly is your father going to say when I don’t start showing in a few months?”
Kaeun presses, her lips pressed into a thin, unimpressed line. “I can’t just get pregnant on my
own.”
“If you’re asking me if I’m going to sleep with you again…” Chan begins tiredly.
“Would you rather I just got pregnant with someone else’s kid?” Kaeun raises an eyebrow at
him. “Raise someone else’s hellspawn?”
“I’d rather kids weren’t in the mix at all,” Chan confesses. “I’d never want to subject a kid to
the life we have, especially not one that’s mine.”
Kaeun scoffs. “You make being rich and powerful sound like a punishment,” she teases.
“Would you rather scrape together every cent you have just to make ends meet until you get
paid again?”
“As if you know what that’s like,” Chan shoots back, equally as unimpressed.
“I know which one I’d prefer-OW FUCK!” Kaeun screams, her head whips down to look at
the woman who just poked her with a needle. “Watch where you put that thing! I have an
ass!”
“Barely,” Chan can’t help but quip.
Kaeun turns her anger from the woman she snapped at and back to Chan. “And you can get
fucked. Why am I the one who has to be primped, poked and prodded when all you have to
do is wear a suit?”
“It’s called patriarchy, darling and it sucks ass,” Chan shrugs. “But back to my main point:
will you play nice and nod along to the announcement?”
“Fine, fine,” Kaeun huffs. “Maybe I can start stuffing a pillow under my dress and pretend I
have morning sickness when I want to get out of certain events. Then somewhere along the
line I can...I dunno...say I miscarried or something.”
“An extra month of looking truly miserable will also serve as a good excuse to get you out of
events you don’t want to go to,” Chan offers helpfully.
“Now we’re talking,” Kaeun brightens. “I mean don’t get me wrong, sometimes I love to
socialise and go to events but other times I’m insanely happy when someone calls and
cancels on me.”
“Spoken like a true introvert.”
A silence falls over them, interrupted only by the mumbling of the women working around
Kaeun. It’s a comfortable kind of silence though, the kind neither of them need to fill in until
Kaeun finally notices the obvious.
“Are we actually having a conversation where we don’t tear each others heads off?” she
gasps.
Chan groans, trust Kaeun to break the spell by mentioning it aloud. “Some things are better
appreciated when they’re not pointed out.”
“Well excuse me for being amazed,” Kaeun giggles. She looks down and when the women
step back, clearly finished with the measurements, she steps down from the podium and
walks up to stand before Chan. “Thought you’d hate me forever for what I made you do.”
Chan fixes her with a small look. “It’s exhausting hating you, I’d rather think of you as a
massive pain in my ass. Speaking of which, how much is this dress going to cost?”
“Nothing you can’t afford.”
“Not the point. How much?”
Kaeun’s smile is coy. The way she twists slightly on the spot reminds him of what the girls at
his schools used to do in front of the boys they liked. It makes him a little uncomfortable.
“They’ll hand you the bill in a black folder,” she tells him and that alone is all the
information he needs. “It’s worth it, the dress will be beautiful.”
Chan rolls his eyes but doesn’t say more on the matter. He’s found it’s much less hassle if he
just goes along with Kaeun rather than fight her.
It pays to pick battles carefully.
“Hello, hello, hello again beautiful.”
Minho’s eyebrow rises as he takes in the new customer who had just walked in through the
double doors of Gods Menu as though he owns the place. It takes him a moment to realise the
customer is the man from the night before - Chan’s seizure had knocked all memory of this
man clean from his mind but now as he stands before him in broad daylight, he remembers
him clearly.
Across the main room, Jisung’s eyebrows rise to his hairline. Even Hyunjin, halfway through
serving a table on the right, pauses to watch curiously.
Minho fixes his standard customer service smile on his face and glances at the men behind
the newcomer. Three. He picks up four menu boards and holds them under his arm.
“Four for lunch?” he asks.

The man chuckles, clearly party to some joke only he knows. He makes absolutely no effort
to hide the way his eyes rake Minho’s body up and down and it reminds Minho vaguely of
the people he used to have to deal with back at the Honeypot and the Cats Cradle.
Lecherous bastards, the lot of them.
“Have you forgotten me so quickly, doll?” the man drawls. “From the other night?”
Minho’s pretty sure he heard Jisung choke a little. Even the kitchen begins to notice the hum
in the air because Felix’s curious face appears in the window.
“I’m sorry, was I supposed to remember anything?” Minho asks, playing dumb as best he
can. He knows this man is kkangpae so pissing him off isn’t a good idea but he also doesn’t
want to get tangled up with whatever plan this man has for him. Playing dumb is all he can
do.
Behind the man are three others. Tattoos snaking up and down their arms and necks, a few on
their faces. All in various states of unwash and messy, devil-may-care style, it’s not hard to
tell who they are or who they’re working for.
“Choi. Min. Jun.” Minjun says, punctuating every syllable slowly as though Minho were
stupid. He grins at the thinly veiled glower on Minho’s face and looks around the restaurant.
“So this is God’s Menu, huh? Heard a lot about it on the way in - given that Bang Chan is a
major supporter of sajangnim.”
It takes Minho a moment to realise Minjun is talking about Wooyoung.
“What funny little alliances were made to make all of this happen,” Minjun continues. He
turns his eyes back to Minho and beams. “Well...not all of them bad.”
“May I seat you somewhere?” Minho asks, struggling to contain his customer service
attitude.
“Sure,” Minjun nods. “Give me the best table in the house.”
Minho nods and leads the way. As he passes Hyunjin, he shoots him a look and Hyunjin steps
out of the way. Jisung can’t seem to move from his spot on the other end of the room and
now Seungmin and Jeongin are watching the ordeal as well. He leads Minjun to a table near
the front windows and once all four men are seated, he passes them their menus.
“Do you have a house specialty?” Minjun asks as Minho subtly signals to the others to stop
staring and get back to work. “Joints like these usually have house specialties don’t they?”
“We do,” Minho answers as he pulls a small notepad from his pocket and flicks out the pen
from the binding. “Veal.”
The other men hum in contentment but it’s Minjun who tilts his head a little, eyeing Minho
curiously.
“Mmm, I’m not much for veal,” he states. “I prefer beef, chicken if I’m in for something
lighter.”
“I’ll go for the veal,” one of his men speaks up hopefully. “Boss, have you never tasted veal
before? If it’s done right, it’s beautiful.”
“I agree,” another pipes up. “Veal for me too.”
“And me,” the third nods happily.
“How cute, you all match,” Minjun teases. A round of light laughter starts and he turns his
eyes back to Minho. “But I’m still gonna pass. I’ll go for…” he checks the menu for a
moment and hums. “Chicken parmesan sounds good.”
Minho nods, he takes the orders for the drinks and once he’s taken away the menu boards he
can’t turn around and walk away fast enough.
“Who the hell is that?” Seungmin murmurs once he reaches the window.
“Nevermind,” Minho says, sliding the piece of paper with the orders through the window.
“Let’s just feed them and hope they never come back.”
Nodding, Seungmin disappears and Minho feels a presence coming up behind him. He knows
without turning around who it is.
“Who’s that?” Jisung asks, light voice laced with heavy curiosity. “Why does he know you
already?”
Minho feels a slight headache as he turns to see Jisung’s worried eyes. “He just came around
the other night after closing, that’s all,” he assures him. “It’s nothing, Han.”
Jisung still looks worried and for good reason. Despite their dealings with Wolgang Pa when
they helped Wooyoung take over, they actually don’t deal with the pa that often and it’s how
they prefer it. Where possible, butting heads or working with kkangpae is a headache all of
them prefer to avoid - even Hyunjin.
It helps that Minjun belongs to Wolgang Pa. He’s not likely to cause trouble with the
company that’s backing his own boss.
...assuming he’s loyal to Wooyoung, that is.
“Just be careful,” Jisung tells him quietly. “Guys like that aren’t used to being told no.”
He heads off to serve another table and Minho looks over to see Minjun looking right at him
again. His men are chatting amongst themselves but he is fully distracted, eyeing Minho the
same way the men at the strip clubs used to eye him.
He feels naked under Minjun’s gaze. Uncomfortably so.
God help him, if Minjun doesn’t finish his meal and get the fuck out of the restaurant right
away, Minho might just shove him out the window himself.
Jeongin’s mind is a mess.
If one were to imagine it as a concrete matter, they’d see darkness all around them. Scattered
on the floor of his mind is nothing but broken memories in the form of shards. Sharp, glass
shards scattered all around.
In the reflection of that glass, shimmers of memories would flit in and out. If one were to stop
and look into one shard long enough, perhaps they’d see the day Jeongin was taken away to
the asylum. Or they’d see his mother poisoning him. Or maybe they’d see the abuse he was
forced to forget.
A few times, maybe in that glass they’d see Hyunjin’s face.
In that black field of broken glass, Jeongin himself would be lying curled in a foetal position.
His knees bent, his hands covering his head, his face pushed into his knees and eyes squeezed
as tight as he can make them.
His shuddering breathing would be the only sound in the darkness.
His doe eyes, naturally innocent, have the ability to light up when he smiles, when he’s happy
and even when he’s sad. He cries at the thought of causing anyone any pain, he can’t kill
people easily. He knows there’s something wrong with him but he’s scared to look into it.
Lest his memories eat the last of his innocence.
He’s not the same as the Jeongin that’s now out there. That Jeongin doesn’t hesitate, that
Jeongin remembers almost everything. He’s hardened by the world and he’s more certain that
control, that killing, that blood gives him a high he’s addicted to. It’s like an impulse he can’t
ignore, a craving he doesn’t want to silence.
That Jeongin is out there now.
Unbidden, Jeongin thinks of Honey. He thinks of his poor dog and he knows she’s in danger
out there. In danger of him. He doesn’t like dogs, he doesn’t like animals. He’s on survival
mode all the time and it’s because of the horrors he remembers. It’s because of the world that
twisted him into the way he is.
Somehow he managed to create Innie. Jeongin is out there. Innie is in here and Innie is
terrified.
You’ve been out there long enough, Innie. You can’t keep hiding from the world, you have to
face it one day. Maybe if we had a chance, you’d have been in charge.
But you’re not. I am.
It’s him. It’s all him. The Jeongin that’s out there is him and the Innie in here is also him. It’s
all one person but at the same time it’s not. What Innie doesn’t remember, Jeongin does and
Innie is the shield. The outer layer. The sweetness of what could have been.
But Innie’s not real. Jeongin is.
If one were to imagine Jeongin’s mind as anything corporeal they’d have seen his inner child,
his Innie, lying there in the glass of shattered memories and whimpering.
I’m not ready. We’re not ready. Let me live, let me be. You don’t have to do this.
They’d see that glass disappearing slowly. Memories fading like mist, floating into the
subconscious mind that is Jeongin and making him whole. He doesn’t have gaps in his
memory. Not anymore.
Innie didn’t remember anything. That was to protect him.
Jeongin remembers everything.
They’d see Innie disappearing too. His curled up form, his tears leaking into the pitch black
darkness of his mind. His whimpers fading with the plea that he be allowed to stay. He
doesn’t want to go.
If one were to leave Jeongin’s mind and look into his eyes, they’d see only pitch black
darkness. The floor of his mind would be clear, the glass and Innie gone forever.
Chapter End Notes
Hey guys!
Sorry this one took so long. The hardest part with this chapter in particular was what
was happening with Jeongin and to bring home the point that his mind is empty
(basically) I wanted to focus the POV on everyone BUT Jeongin. Normally the POV
would be Innie but this time, for this chapter, because he's essentially had the breakdown
of the century (and those of you who have been keeping an eye on Innie's mental state
will know what this means) his mind is basically quiet. He has no thoughts (he does now
but he's done with his breakdown now)
It'll be fun writing from this point! Not exactly easy but fun.
I know I thank you guys every chapter but thank you guys so much. I couldn't have
imagined that this fic would get as much attention as it has and I'm really humbled by it.
I hope it continues to live to your expectations, especially now that I solidly know what
the endgame is, how and when.
I could promise no more pain but I'd be lying so all I can do instead is say I'm here for
you to rant at, or if you need tissues or anything like that :)
See you next time!

XXVI: Si vis amari, ama
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
Ế
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
“Hyunjin?”
“Mm?”
“Tell me a story.”
There’s a ceiling fan above them. Jeongin’s head is a comfortable weight on Hyunjin’s
stomach as the two are sprawled out on the floor. They stare up at the blades of the fan
spinning around and around like it’s hypnotic.
Both of them are kind of stoned so it probably is.
On the maroon carpet, Jeongin’s phone is next to them. Playing quiet tunes whilst Hyunjin
lifts the blunt to his lips and inhales deep. He blows the smoke up towards the fan, as though
he were willing it to spread it all around the room. A cloud of marijuana.
Jeongin’s hand appears in front of his face. “Give it.”
“Not good for you,” Hyunjin protests lightly, switching the blunt to his other hand to keep it
out of Jeongin’s reach. “I’m thinking of your health.”
“I’ve been inhaling your pot second hand and I’m already stoned, give it,” Jeongin pouts. His
fingers wiggle in front of Hyunjin’s face as he reaches for the blunt. “If you wanted to think
about my health, you should have gone and smoked outside.”
“But I’m comfy here,” Hyunjin whines. He makes a point of wiggling where he lies on the
carpet and stretches his arm out so Jeongin can’t reach his blunt. “And besides, you’re the
one who put your head on my stomach. I clearly can’t move now.”
Jeongin laughs and Hyunjin gives in. He hands the stick over and watches as Jeongin brings
it to his own lips and inhales with the experience of someone who has done this a few times.
What a bad influence he is.
“A story,” Hyunjin says, his eyes turning back up to the ceiling fan.
Jeongin exhales with a long, relieved sigh and relaxes a little more.
“Yes, a story. Tell me one.”
Hyunjin watches the fan spinning and tilts his head. His hand comes down to feel the soft
locks of Jeongin’s hair. Thumb gently stroking Jeongin’s forehead whilst his other fingers
card gently through the strands. They’re impossibly soft.
Either that or he’s just so stoned that any texture beneath his fingers feels heavenly.
“Once upon a time,” he begins, much to Jeongin’s amusement. “There was a man who knew
all his life he was different. He didn’t know when he was younger of course but as he grew
older and started developing very...specific...tastes, he knew right then that he was different.”
“Make him an ogre,” Jeongin says. Hyunjin lifts his head to shoot him a look and the smile
on Jeongin’s face is impossibly innocent. “I want a fantasy story.”
“Okay, he’s an ogre,” Hyunjin decides, his head flopping back down onto the floor because
he really doesn’t have the energy to do much more than this.
“An ugly ogre.”
“Are you telling the story or am I?”
Jeongin giggles, he hands the blunt back to Hyunjin and waits for him to inhale before
stretching his hand out and taking it back so Hyunjin can continue the story.
“Anyway, the ugly ogre had very peculiar tastes. By the time he came to acknowledge that
this was what he was into, he already knew it was wrong. Still he couldn’t help himself,
normal she-ogres and he-ogres didn’t do it for him like they did for all his friends.”
“Ogress,” Jeongin interjects. “Female ones are called ogresses.”
“I’m the narrator, I say they’re she-ogres and stop interrupting,” Hyunjin scolds gently. He
can’t help but smile at the big grin on Jeongin’s face.
“Okay, okay, sorry. Continue.”
“Anyway,” Hyunjin sighs. “The ugly ogre, by the time he reached adulthood, knew his tastes.
He also knew he had to get it secretly because no one would approve of him having them. In
the swamp where he lived, there were rules and one of them was that he could not do what he
wanted to do to baby-ogres - or do they have their own name too?”
“No,” Jeongin shrugs. “But let’s say they’re not baby ogres but instead they’re...pixies.”
“At this point, I should just let you tell the story.”
“Noooo,” Jeongin giggles, his free hand scrambling back to hold Hyunjin’s leg. “You’re
telling the story so well. Keep going, I promise not to interrupt.”
Rolling his eyes, Hyunjin returns to stroking Jeongin’s hair and stares up at the ceiling.
“Pixies were young and he knew, as a full grown ogre, he had no business wanting them the
way he did. So he ambled along in his life until one day he came across a witch with a pixie
of her own.”
Jeongin begins to hum, a sure sign that Hyunjin had chosen the right kind of character. He
never needs encouragement for these sorts of things but it does help him continue his story.
“This pixie was unlike any other the ogre had ever seen before. He was beautiful, so young
and broken. He went through long periods where he couldn’t remember anything that
happened to him and for the ogre, the young pixie was a dream come true. The witch sold her
pixie to him, a couple of hours a night and the pixie never remembered the horrors the ogre
unleashed on him...until now.”
A whimper draws their attention to the double bed in the corner of the room. Jeongin slowly
pushes himself up into a sitting position and with his head off Hyunjin’s stomach, Hyunjin
does the same. Their eyes follow the noise to the body lying on the bed.
It had been impossibly easy to find him. As a younger man, he used to run photoshoots for
several magazines. A lot of his shoots involved children and Jeongin can’t have been any
older than eight when he first met him. When his mother took him to his house one day and
told him ‘It’s okay, he won’t remember anything tomorrow. He’s in one of his moods so it’s
now or never. I take payment upfront, you can have him for three hours.’
Hyunjin leans over to take the blunt from where it’s quietly burning between Jeongin’s
fingers. He inhales deep and scoots over a little closer so he’s sitting right next to Jeongin. He
watches as the other catches on and lifts both his hands to form a tunnel between his face and
Hyunjin’s.
Then Hyunjin closes his eyes and exhales just as Jeongin inhales.
It’s as intimate as a kiss.
Exhaling the smoke into the air, Jeongin leans in to press a kiss to Hyunjin’s lips. He needs
his strength right now because finding the man had been half the job. It helps immensely that
Hyunjin had no objection to his plans, in fact he’d have done the job himself if he’d known
about what Jeongin went through when he was younger.
Hell, if Jeongin’s mother was still alive, Hyunjin would have killed her himself if he’d known
the full depth of what she’d done to her son.
Tilting his head to deepen the kiss, Jeongin and Hyunjin ignore the whimpering man on the
bed in favour of each other for a few moments longer. They have to pull away when they
need air but Jeongin is drawn back to him for another kiss, then another, until his arms are
snaking around Hyunjin’s shoulders and pulling him closer.
There’s no rush, they have all the time in the world and Hyunjin seems content to let Jeongin
call the shots for this one. It’s his game after all.
Another whimper from the bed. Jeongin finally pulls back from Hyunjin and turns to look at
the lump trapped on top of the blankets.
Slowly, he rises to his feet. Hyunjin watches as Jeongin stalks, silent as a cat towards the bed.
In one swift move, he reaches down and grabs the whimpering man by his shirt, forcing him
to sit up and slamming his back against the wall to keep him up.
The last time he saw this man, he was a lot younger. He’d been balding back then, thin wisps
of hair barely clinging to his skull and small, beady little eyes. He had a smile that sent
shivers down Jeongin’s spine and set off alarm bells in his head. Now he was completely bald
and those eyes remained the same.
Jeongin would bet his smile did too.
“You got old,” Jeongin notes, a small smile appearing on his face as he settles himself in
front of the man. “Remember me, Mr Kwon? Or have you had so many little boys they all
start to blend together at some point?”
Kwon is shivering so hard, tears are trailing down his face and he looks like a man who
knows he’s royally fucked. His hands shiver where they’re resting on his lap, tied together by
a zip tie that was fastened way too tightly. The plastic edge cuts into his skin just slightly,
enough to sting.
“Please,” he starts to beg. “Please, you have the wrong guy, I’m not-”
“No, I remember your face quite clearly now,” Jeongin cuts in. There’s a smile on his face
but it’s cold as ice and Kwon shivers just to look at it. It’s kind of terrifying.
“I remember everything clearly now actually,” Jeongin says in a matter-of-factly tone. “Every
detail of my fucked up life, recorded in 4K right here,” he taps his temple and the smile on
his face makes him look completely unhinged. “You, Mr Kwon, are one fucked up individual
- it’s nice to know we finally have something in common.”
Kwon starts to cry, perhaps he does recognise Jeongin or maybe he’s just realising his past is
catching up to him but the sight of it makes Jeongin’s eye twitch. Kwon gets absolutely no
warning before Jeongin reaches forward and grabs his jaw, his fingers digging into the skin as
he leans in.
“Don’t cry,” he warns. “Or I’ll staple your eyelids open and give you something to really cry
about. Stop crying.”
Kwon hiccups, his eyes wide in terror but it does make him stop. He stares at Jeongin and
when he’s sure he’s stopped crying, Jeongin lets him go and crawls off the bed.
“It’s okay if you don’t remember me,” Jeongin tells him. “You’ve probably had so many little
boys. The mothers who came to you wanted their children featured in magazines after all,
some - like my mother - were okay with paying the price for that.”
Kwon hiccups again. His eyes flick to Hyunjin who is still sitting on the ground with an
amused look on his face.
“Don’t look at me, look at him,” Hyunjin advises with a nod to Jeongin. “Count yourself
lucky you never touched me, you’d be long dead if you had.”
“I-I’m getting help,” Kwon stammers, his eyes turning back to Jeongin. “I swear. It’s not my
fault, it’s just what I was born with. I was born with these preferences, it’s not my-”
“Fault, yes that’s the same argument all pedophiles use to defend themselves,” Jeongin cuts
in with an amused grin. “You even have different categories for what age group you’re into
and at one point you wanted to join the LGBTQ+ community. Trust me, I’m well informed.”
Kwon whimpers and Jeongin turns to look at him.
“I’ll tell you what,” he says, a large gleeful smile coming over his face as he claps his hands
like an excited child. “If you can remember me. First and last name, I’ll give you a quicker
death than the slow, agonizingly painful one I’m about to give you. I’ll give you three
chances.”
Kwon’s entire body is shaking at this point. He glances at Hyunjin who shakes his head and
points to Jeongin.
“Um…” Kwon mumbles and Jeongin can practically see his mind trying to make the
connection. “Jang Gyuwon?”
“Wrong,” Jeongin grins, he holds up three fingers and puts one down. “Two left.”
“I uh...Kim Dohyun?”
“Nope,” Jeongin puts a finger down. “One more. Think really, reeeeally hard.”
Kwon is shaking so hard now, tears are streaming down his cheeks as he looks at Jeongin’s
finger like it’s the meaning of life and death to him.
It technically is.
“Tick, tock, tick, tock,” Jeongin sings, wide manic eyes getting wider as he dances closer to
the bed. “Think, think, think! Time’s ticking!”
“Yang…” Kwon whispers, wide eyes terrified as he stares at Jeongin. “Yang...Minam?”
“OH! So close, but no,” Jeongin giggles. “Too bad. I could have cut your throat and you’d be
dead within minutes, if not seconds. That’s a far better death than the one I have planned for
you, believe me.”
Kwon starts to cry again and Jeongin skips over to help Hyunjin up to his feet. Hyunjin has
an amused grin on his face even as Jeongin kisses him once on the lips before coming back to
Kwon.
“Okay,” Jeongin says as he sits cross legged on the bed. “Here’s what’s gonna happen - oh
stop crying. Look at me.”
Kwon sobs, his head is hanging and Jeongin taps his knee until he looks up with big tearful
eyes.
“Look at me,” Jeongin demands, his tone scarily similar to a child that wants attention. He
even has a smile on his face which only grows when Kwon does look at him.
Jeongin leans forward and places his hands on Kwon’s knee, he leans in and Kwon can see
every inch of that psychotic smile. The wide eyes, there’s nothing in there. It’s stone cold as
ice.
“We’re going to have fun with this,” Jeongin promises. “Because I couldn’t remember you
for the longest time but now that I can, I just realised I’ve been waiting years to pay you back
for what you did. Shooting you in the head would be too merciful, too quick and you were
never quick with me. You took your time. You took your own, sweet, time.”
Kwon wants to scream but he’s so terrified that his scream is lodged somewhere in his throat
and won’t come out. He swears he’s looking at the devil, the same one that always promised
would catch him one day. Now it’s here and he’s still not ready.
“Wh…” he stammers.
Jeongin tilts his head and Kwon could swear the boy has the ability to turn his head a full 360
if he wanted to. He’s that terrifying.
“What are you gonna do to me?” Kwon asks.
“I’m going to cut something off,” Jeongin tells him. The way he speaks, one would think he’s
talking about an exciting game they’re about to play and not the vicious dismemberment he
describes. “A limb you can live without. Then I’m going to cook it and feed it to someone
and you’re going to watch.”
Kwon wants to scream.
“Then I’m going to come back and keep cutting pieces of you off. Piece by piece, you’re
going to watch yourself being eaten alive and then when you have nothing left that you can’t
live without, I’ll put you out of your misery by cutting your still beating heart whilst you
watch me.”
Kwon feels his entire body turning cold, he can’t feel his shivering anymore though he knows
he’s still doing it. He’s pretty sure he’s stopped breathing and he wants to look away but he
can’t. Jeongin is leaning in too close, those wide eyes haven’t blinked once.
“Because I remember every single thing you did to me,” Jeongin tells him. “Everything. And
I promise, I will make you remember it too with every limb I take from you. We’re gonna
have fun.”
He climbs off the bed and Kwon is finally able to move his gaze from Jeongin to Hyunjin.
Hyunjin who is standing there with his arms folded and an impressed look on his face.
“Damn,” Hyunjin whistles as he looks at Kwon. “Maybe you’d be better off if it was me you
touched.”
Kwon finally finds the air in his lungs to scream.
There’s still something off with Felix when the morning shift begins. Jeongin notices it in the
way Felix keeps glancing at him, almost nervously. The way he twitches and the way his eyes
almost longingly glance at the back door - as though hoping Chan will walk through it
anytime.
Seungmin, who seems determined to ignore the fact that it’s happening, keeps to his side of
the kitchen and works without a word.
There’s an awkward kind of air in the kitchen all morning, broken only when a loud noise in
the main room makes the kitchen group look up. Through the window they can see a familiar
head of hair walking towards Minho and Felix frowns.
That guy has bad news written all over him.
“Welcome back,” Minho drawls in monotone as Minjun saunters up to his podium and gives
him the biggest grin. “Eating solo today?”
“The guys really loved the veal but yes, it’s just me today,” Minjun states. “I think this is
going to be my new favourite haunt.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Minho can see a concerned look on Jisung’s face. He picks up a
menu board and gestures towards an empty table. Minjun follows him quite happily, sitting
himself down at the same table near the window as Minho hands him the menu with a stone
cold professionalism that hides how wary he is of this guy.
“I think I’ll just order what I had yesterday,” Minjun tells him. “Unless you’re gonna try and
sell that veal to me again?”
Minho doesn’t know why but he gets the distinct impression that Minjun actually knows
what the veal is. It’s impossible. They’re extremely careful and they haven’t been bringing in
any new bodies lately because they’re all walking on eggshells with this election but then
how else can he explain Minjun’s attitude?
Unless the guy really just hates veal.
“I won’t push it if it’s not your thing,” Minho promises as he pulls out his notepad and jots
down the same order that Minjun had just yesterday. “If that’ll be all, I’ll leave you to it-”
“Actually no,” Minjun cuts in. His hand shoots out to grasp Minho’s apron and out of the
corner of his eye, Minho swears Jisung jumps a little. The air is insufferably tense and Minho
doesn’t want anyone to cause a scene - especially not with this guy.
Wolgang Pa he is, Minho also knows damn well he’s dangerous. Even if he is supposed to be
their ally.
Minjun’s smile lights his face but not in the same charming way it does with everyone else.
There’s something almost predatory in the way he looks at Minho.
Before Jisung can storm over to them and cause a scene, Minho firmly takes his apron out of
Minjun’s grasp and faces him properly. It takes every ounce of training he has in him to keep
his professionalism but he hasn’t kept a straight face in front of assholes like these for years
and years only to lose his composure now.
“Yes?” he asks, keeping his tone level as he clutches his notepad to himself. “Did you want
something else?”
For some strange reason, the fact that Minjun is not some gross, ugly predator makes a small
difference. Because Minjun isn’t actually ugly, he’s pretty attractive...in a sort of 90’s bad boy
biker aesthetic kind of way and yes, if Minho were still at the Honeypot or Cats Cradle and if
he didn’t know Chan or Jisung or have any other commitments, maybe Minjun would have
been one of the guys he’d happily have a one night stand with.
Minjun is like five years too late to catch him now.
There’s a lazy smile on Minjun’s face. “Well yes, I do want something else but I get the
feeling he’s going to be a little hard to get.”
Minho’s eyes harden and Minjun just looks incredibly amused.
“That’s fine,” he smirks. “I like a challenge.”
Oh Minho has dealt with assholes like these before.
“I meant a drink,” he clarifies. “Or a side, perhaps?”
“I’ll go with a beer,” Minjun decides as he makes absolutely no effort to hide the way his
eyes appreciatively rake over Minho’s body. “We’ll see about the sides later.”
Turning on his heel, Minho feels Minjun’s eyes on his body the whole way back to the
window where he rips the page out of his notebook and hands it to Seungmin.
“We should tell Chan about this guy,” Seungmin tells him and it’s rare that anything other
than complete apathy show itself within Seungmin’s eyes but it does. He’s concerned.
“Probably Changbin too. Wolgang Pa is his area after all.”
“The guy is annoying but he hasn’t caused any trouble, even Bin and Chan will tell you that
they can’t kick the guy out just for eating here,” Minho points out with a small sigh. “It’s
fine. We’ll just serve him as normal and kick him out if he crosses his boundaries. Otherwise
he’s just being annoying and I can handle annoying.”
“I’m not worried about you,” Seungmin tells him with a nod to Jisung in the other corner of
the room. “I’m worried about him.”
Minho turns around to see Jisung standing near the other side of the wall. He’s clutching a
tray in his hands and he’s not looking at Minho, he’s looking at Minjun. For once, Minho
can’t read the look in his eyes.
He’s going to have to make Hyunjin serve Minjun’s table. He can’t risk Jisung causing an
altercation with a member of Wolgang Pa.
“Leave it with me,” he tells Seungmin. “It’ll be fine.”
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Felix tilts his head as he watches Jeongin working quietly in his
corner. He narrows his eyes and he can still see it. The steady way Jeongin works, his hands
don’t shake anymore, he doesn’t second guess every second thing he does anymore. He
somehow seems more confident, more self assured.
“Innie,” he says, causing the other to look up. “You sure nothing changed about you?”
Seungmin makes a huffing noise from his bench. “You’re not still on about that, are you?
Innie’s just Innie.”
“I swear he’s different,” Felix says. “I mean it’s not a bad thing, you look really good, Innie.”
“Thank you?” Jeongin says, his eyebrow slowly rising in confusion.
“It’s just...I dunno…” Felix shakes his head and he can’t quite put his finger on it. The longer
he looks at Jeongin, the more confused he feels.
It’s like looking at a familiar looking stranger and trying to place a name to that face. It’s
right on the tip of his brain, he can feel it there but he can’t recognise it.
“Yeah, well until you do figure it out, we’ve gotta feed that guy and get him out of the
restaurant before Han strangles him for checking Minho out,” Seungmin points out with a
nod to the main room. “So Lix, stop trying to figure out what’s different about Innie and give
me a hand here.”
Felix frowns, he still feels something off. Still, he heads off to help Seungmin and when he’s
gone, Jeongin looks up to see Hyunjin’s head peek through the window.
A smile automatically bubbles up onto his face at the sight. Hyunjin’s hair is tied back in a
simple ponytail, his black and gold silk uniform suits him even more now with his hair as
dark as it is. Hyunjin tilts his head and Jeongin follows suit, head cocking to the side with an
identical smile on his face.
Hyunjin then tilts his head to the right and Jeongin follows. He tilts it back to the left and
Jeongin does the same. Identical smiles paint both their faces until Seungmin’s voice startles
both of them.
“Innie, baby, stop playing around and pass me those vegetables,” Seungmin calls from where
he’s prepping the food with Felix at his counter. “And Hyunjin, piss off and let the boy
work.”
“Sorry, hyung,” Jeongin grins.
He looks back up to find the window empty and he’s almost disappointed before Hyunjin’s
head appears again. He points to the freezer and mouths ‘later’.
Neither of them notice the way Felix’s eyes narrow at both of them.
At the end of the day, only two customers remain in Gods Menu. Minjun is one of them, he’s
been lounging at his table, playing on his phone and occasionally ordering another drink or
another meal just to be annoying. There’s also an older looking man at the far corner, quietly
nursing a coffee and checking his phone every now and then.
Minho ignores the glances Minjun keeps shooting his way and instead looks up as Jisung
walks up to his podium and stops in front of him.
“You should shoot off early,” Jisung tells him, worry all over his face as he uses his body to
block Minjun’s view of Minho. “That guy has a plan and I don’t like it. Take the back door.”
Minho glances at the clock on the wall. They still have another half hour to go. He shakes his
head.
“I can hold off thirty minutes,” he says. “Besides, we have to kick all the customers out ten
minutes before closing anyway. It’ll be fine.”
“Minho,” Jisung frowns and there’s something familiar about the way Jisung’s entire body
tenses, the way he leans in. It reminds Minho of all the times Jisung’s protectiveness wins out
over his own social anxiety and nerves.
Jisung is riddled with a lot of anxieties but for Minho, he has a talent for temporarily casting
his own problems aside to address the immediate problem if that problem has anything to do
with Minho. Which, in this case, it does.
“At least let me take you home. I don’t want you alone, not while this guy is hanging
around,” Jisung says. “Please?”
There’s a delicate balance between them, there has been ever since they started talking to
each other again. They’re not back together - that much is clear - Minho’s not sure if Jisung is
ready yet and Jisung hasn’t said anything. It’s a precarious balance and Minho doesn’t want
to upset anything by pushing Jisung too early.
If nothing else, what they are right now is friends. Friends who delicately side-step the
elephant in the room every time they talk. Jisung isn’t ready to address the reality that
Minho’s feelings for both Chan and himself have not changed but he also doesn’t seem to
want to let him go.
But that doesn’t stop Minho wanting him every time they’re alone together. It doesn’t stop
the way his heart hammers in his chest when they’re close, the way he longs for Jisung back
in his arms - it’s painful.
If he’s being honest, he’s waiting. Waiting with bated breath for a decision from Jisung. Will
he take him back or will he end their relationship? Minho can’t tell and every time he’s alone
with him, it only hurts more.
“I’ll be fine, Han,” he says and there’s something new in his voice. Something fragile that’s
begging Jisung not to push him.
Jisung, for once, listens. His eyes look a little confused, a little hurt but he nods and pushes
himself off the podium to clear up the tables in the far corner.
With him gone, Minho looks over to see Minjun still watching him. The kkangpae member
blows him a kiss and Minho rolls his eyes.
Cocky bastard.
In the kitchen, Seungmin, Felix and Jeongin are in the middle of cleaning. With no more
customers ordering, it’s safe enough to clean the dishes, wipe down the benches and pack
their things up for tomorrow. Through the window, Jeongin sees the last of the customers
finally leave through the door and he sighs as the door locks behind them. Finally.
“Hyunjin,” Seungmin calls as he takes his apron off and chucks it into his bag. “I know
you’re on lockup tonight but for the love of god, don’t fuck on my counter.”
Hyunjin, who is leaning against the counter Jeongin is cleaning, looks up with a raised
eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he lies.
Jeongin snorts and bumps Hyunjin’s elbows off the counter so he can wipe it down properly.
Hyunjin makes a point of cuddling up to his back instead. He wraps his arms around him and
rests his chin on Jeongin’s shoulder, smiling wider when he sees both Felix and Seungmin
cringe at the sight.
“God, you two are disgusting,” Seungmin mutters. He turns his head to the window and
raises his voice slightly. “Lee Know! Call your waiter, he’s being gross!”
“Hyunjin, get your ass out here before I kick it!” Minho’s voice calls back.
“See you in a bit,” Hyunjin whispers, pressing a kiss to Jeongin’s neck before he finally lets
him go and heads back to the main room through the double doors.
Felix glances at Jeongin, wary but reluctant to bring the subject back up again. Not if Jeongin
himself either doesn’t know what’s different about him or simply doesn’t care. Felix still
feels it, something is still off. He puts the last of the dishes away and fishes his phone from
his pocket to check his messages.
“Has anyone heard from Chan today?” he asks. “He hasn’t been around.”
“That’s not unusual,” Seungmin comments as he tosses the dishcloth he was using into the
basket in the corner of the kitchen and heads for his bag. “Chan disappears for days at a time,
you know that. He’ll turn up when he turns up.”
“He’s not answering my texts,” Felix frowns. “He always answers me.”
Seungmin shrugs and he’s so unhelpful but Felix and Jeongin can both see he doesn’t want to
get into it. He doesn’t want to get involved with any drama happening here. He’s the first out
of the restaurant, with a wave he heads out through the back door and Felix turns to look at
Jeongin.
“I haven’t heard from him either, sorry,” Jeongin shrugs as he puts his dishcloth away. “But
maybe he’s just busy. He does get busy sometimes.”
Perhaps, but he’s usually never too busy to answer Felix. Even Jeongin knows that.
Felix shakes his head but there’s nothing more to do here and it’s clear Jeongin isn’t going to
go home before Hyunjin. He picks his backpack up, throws it over his shoulder and on his
way out, he stops to look over Jeongin one more time. Jeongin blinks at him, holding still as
Felix reaches a hand up and pushes a stray strand of hair out of Jeongin’s face.
Something is different.
With a small smile, Felix heads out next and closes the door behind himself.
Jeongin looks up to see the main room. Jisung is already gone and Minho is just stacking
away the last of the chairs.
With a tired huff, Minho turns to look at Hyunjin. He never likes it when Hyunjin’s on lockup
duty - the other seems to get off on torturing the poor souls in the freezer a little too much.
But as Changbin once pointed out: someone has to do it and the reality is that they serve
human meat to their customers. Morals don’t have a place here.
Picking out the restaurant keys from his pocket, Minho tosses them over to Hyunjin. He can
see Jeongin still waiting for Hyunjin in the kitchen and he doesn’t mind. Someone might as
well keep Hyunjin company, maybe he won’t go overboard if Jeongin’s there.
“I’m off,” he announces, picking up his bag from behind the podium. He waves to Hyunjin
and on his way through the kitchen, he sees Jeongin standing near the benches, obviously
waiting for Hyunjin to come join him.
Maybe Hyunjin won’t go overboard if Jeongin’s there.
“Bye, hyung,” Jeongin waves as Minho nods and heads out the back door.
Alone at last, Jeongin watches Hyunjin return to the kitchen. He leans back against the bench
and smiles as Hyunjin makes his way towards him.
“Think he survived?” Jeongin asks, tilting his head towards the closed freezer door. “He
didn’t bleed out, right?”
“I know how to cut off a limb without killing someone,” Hyunjin assures him. “He’ll be a
little cold because he’s been in there all day but he won’t die. Not yet.”
“Good,” Jeongin says, his arms naturally coming up around Hyunjin’s shoulders when the
other presses him back into the bench. “I’m not done with him yet.”
If Hyunjin had known that the real Jeongin would be this ruthless, he’d have woken him up
ages ago.
He can’t resist. He pulls Jeongin into a kiss and hums when he feels the other returning it.
Jeongin’s lips take as much as they give and if Hyunjin was addicted to him before, he’s
obsessed now. His hands can’t hold him close enough and his lips can’t steal enough air from
Jeongin’s lungs, he wants all of him.
One kiss turns into two, then three, then they start losing count as hands wander, pull at hair,
at clothing, lips leave marks on their necks, their jawlines, biting each other’s earlobes and
it’s not just Hyunjin who’s obsessed.
It’s Jeongin who pulls back first after a good twenty minutes, both of them breathless as he
turns his gaze back to the freezer and pats Hyunjin’s chest.
“Later,” he promises, still panting a little. His eyes shine as he turns back to Hyunjin and
takes his hand instead. “Let’s go play.”
The night air is cool as Minho’s lonely steps echo along the pavement. The train station isn’t
that far from God's Menu and in all honesty, he hates driving when he can take a train. He
always has. It was Jisung who insisted on driving and that’s only because he’s too rich to take
public transport.
One thing about Chan, Changbin and Jisung: they may not like their rich status much and
they certainly go out of their way to break all the rules but some things are ingrained into
them so deep that they don’t even realise they’re snobs. One of those things is their refusal to
use public transport, another is their inability to realise that not everyone can just get on a
plane and fly back and forth from Busan to Seoul like it’s a day trip. Minho had to use every
single ounce of his savings just to get here from Seoul - a fact that Chan acknowledges but
will never understand.
Jisung’s worry hangs over his head like a raincloud. He never could cope when Jisung was
sad and he can cope even less when he’s worried. When those eyebrows of his start to furrow
and his eyes grow large and lost. Jisung, who wears his heart on his sleeve, is too easy to read
and his concern had been clear as day.
Half of Minho hates it because he knows he doesn’t deserve it. After everything he’s done, he
doesn’t deserve Han Jisung. The other half of him wants him so badly it hurts that Jisung still
can’t make up his mind about what to do about their silent relationship.
Are they on a break? Did they actually break up and Minho just hasn’t realised it yet?
Minho’s too afraid to ask because he’s terrified of the answer and yet this limbo they’re in -
this grey area where they talk like they’re friends but tiptoe around each other like their
emotions are landmines - it’s not much better.
He’s too busy thinking about Jisung that it’s not until he rounds the corner that he finally
notices it.
Another pair of shoes on the pavement. Another echo besides his.
He frowns. It’s perfectly logical that perhaps it’s just someone else walking out here. After
all, it’s a public street and anyone could be out here but the hairs on the back of Minho’s neck
are already standing on edge as he continues walking.
Two echoes. Two people. Minho’s heartbeat starts to thud gently in his ears and already his
mind is racing for the most logical conclusion.
Testing the grounds, he stops walking. If it’s a mere stranger who happens to be walking in
the same direction, the person will just keep on walking and probably pass him with not so
much as a single glance. But if someone’s following him, they’ll either stop as well - or
worse, speed up.
No sound. Minho turns around and through the darkness of the poorly lit streets, he can see a
figure at least twenty steps behind him. He can’t make out a face but he sees the figure.
Whoever that is, he’s taller. He’s bigger too. He stands stock still and behind him is a
streetlight that just illuminates him as a big, dark shadow with no face. Minho stares and now
he can hear his heart thundering away in his chest. Nerves and anxiety build into every nerve
ending as he watches the shadow behind him.
He takes a step back. One slow step, then another.
Then the shadow breaks out into a run and Minho’s fight or flight instinct kicks in violently
as he squeaks and turns to run as well.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, there’s someone chasing him. Minho can barely breathe, he can hardly
believe what’s happening as he speeds down the road as fast as he can. The silence in the air
is now overtaken by the echoing, pounding steps of the man running behind him, the frantic
thundering of Minho’s heart and his rapid breaths as he tries to outrun the stranger chasing
him.
He wants Jisung. He wants Chan. Changbin. Fuck, he’ll even take Hyunjin right now. All
that’s going through Minho’s mind, aside from blind panic, is how stupid he is for being
alone. This man is faster and god knows what he wants. Is he someone who figured out what
the restaurant is and wants to kill Minho for it? Is he a stranger who just saw him and wanted
to rape him? Is he someone who knew Minho from his days in the Cats Cradle? Or worse, the
Honeypot?
Minho’s mind goes everywhere and he can hear the man closing in on him even as he runs as
fast as he possibly can.
He feels a hard hand grab his shoulder and he panics. With a scream, he wrenches the man
off him and loses his balance. He stumbles forward just as someone else appears in front of
him from around the corner. Minho crashes right into a hard chest and feels arms closing
around him as they both fall to the pavement hard.
“Woah, woah, what the…?”
Minho is shaking, the guy he ran into took the brunt of the fall but he’s still very much aware
of the stranger that had just been chasing him. He’s working on pure adrenaline alone as he
pushes himself back up and turns around to see his attacker.
But when he looks up, all he sees is an empty street and his attacker running away.
Minho is breathing hard, his heart has either started pounding so fast he can no longer hear it
or it stopped altogether because all that engulfs him is pure, cold shock. He can still feel the
imprints of the hand on his shoulder, that guy had grabbed him so hard he’ll leave a bruise.
“I think you broke my ass…”
Right. Minho had crashed into someone.
He turns around, half an apology already on his lips but when the streetlight hits the face of
the man he’d run into, his apology dies on his tongue. He recognises the messy hair tied into
a low ponytail, the vine of tattoos crawling up his arm and the frustratingly attractive face.
He’d run right into Choi Minjun.
Instead of an apology, all Minho can blurt is: “What are you doing here?”
“Oh that’s nice,” Minjun whines. There’s still a wince on his face as he pushes himself back
up onto his feet. “You crash into me, break my ass and all you can ask me is what I’m doing
here?”
“Are you stalking me?!” Minho frowns and it’s a bit ridiculous that this is even happening
after what almost happened back there but Minho can only focus on one thing at a time.
Right now, focussing on the fact that Minjun might be annoyingly following him around is a
lot easier than focussing on the fact that he might have just been murdered had Minjun not
been there.
He hates the slow grin that appears on Minjun’s face. “I’m above stalking,” he says. “If
anything, people stalk me.”
“You left the restaurant half an hour ago,” Minho reminds him with a glare. “What are you
still doing around here?”
“Well...what are you doing here?” Minjun asks, flipping the question back defensively.
“Running around the streets like a lunatic, you bowled right into me!”
“Someone was chasing me,” Minho says, pointing behind him to the empty street. “He
almost grabbed me and I don’t believe in coincidences. If that was one of your friends-”
“Woah, stop before you get ahead of yourself, beautiful,” Minjun says, his hands coming up
defensively. “I don’t get people to play tricks for me. That wasn’t one of mine.”
“Then what are you doing here?!” Minho yells and he can’t help it. He’s shaking, he’s still so
fucking scared and now he’s angry on top of it because someone almost grabbed him. God
knows what they’d have done to him. He doesn’t even want to think about it.
Minjun holds his hands up. “Chillax,” he says. “Look, I’ll explain. There’s a cafe near here-”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Minho snaps.
“I just mean...we’re standing in the middle of a dark street and you don’t trust me anyway,”
Minjun points out. “If you’d like me to explain myself in a well lit place with security
cameras, I’m cool with that.”
Minho checks behind himself but the street is empty. His attacker is long gone and now he’s
alone with Minjun...who is surprisingly making reasonable sense right now. He turns back to
Minjun and glances at the well lit area about a block away from him. The train station. It is
safer there.
“Okay,” he finally decides. He’s still a little breathless as he side-steps Minjun and leads the
way towards the train station. “But we’re doing this on my terms. Don’t touch me and don’t
come anywhere near me.”
Minjun shrugs. “You’re the boss. Lead the way.”
-
There’s faint music coming from the open door of the freezer.
The back door closes quietly with a click behind Felix as he comes back into the restaurant.
Hyunjin’s bike is still parked outside, the lights are on and Felix knows it’s too early for
Hyunjin to close up just yet.
He’d come back on an impulse. A stupid gut feeling that he’d get his answers about Jeongin
tonight if he came back. He knows he’s right when he hears the music because that’s just the
thing about Hyunjin - he doesn’t work with music. He never has. He goes down to the freezer
and he kills in silence because it unnerves his victims so much more when the only thing they
can hear is their own ragged breathing.
Jeongin - on the other hand - likes music. He plays it when they’re working in the kitchen
and he’s most likely responsible for the music playing in the freezer.
Which means he’s down there with Hyunjin right now.
Moving for the freezer, Felix ignores the shiver that rushes through his body at that first, cold
push of air against his skin. It’s more than just the temperature, it’s the reminder of what’s
under there.
Felix doesn’t deal with the freezer. Like Minho, he doesn’t go out of his way to kill unless he
has to and Chan knows that. It’s why the only people who usually deal with the killing part
are usually himself, Changbin, Jisung or Hyunjin and it’s a system that - oddly enough -
works.
Felix doesn’t like going down there. He doesn’t like seeing all the bodies, he doesn’t like the
visual reminder of what God’s Menu really is. The secret he’s really keeping and it’s easier to
keep it when he doesn’t see it but tonight he has to.
He has to know what happened to Jeongin because he knows something is different about
him.
The trapdoor is already open. Felix climbs down, ignoring the chill rushing up his spine and
the voice in his head that keeps telling him to go back. Go back home, wait for Changbin and
just don’t think about this.
But he has to.
He can hear Jeongin singing when he reaches the tiled floor of the freezer. Jeongin’s sweet
voice lilts gently over the tinny sound of the music coming from his phone. Every now and
then, Felix can hear sharp intakes of breath, as though someone were sucking in air through
their teeth in pain.
He can’t hear Hyunjin but that’s not surprising. Hyunjin is usually silent.
“At some point, the sun is setting”

A sniffle. Someone’s crying.
“It is getting farther away, leaving behind thick memories”
Pressing himself up against the wall, Felix gently inches himself towards the corner so he can
see what’s going on. Already he can smell the telling iron tang of blood in the air and he
knows they’re in the middle of doing something horrible.
The question is, who’s doing it? Is it Hyunjin or is it…?
“Is he still breathing?” Jeongin asks.
“He’s breathing, he just passed out,” Hyunjin replies. “You would too if someone cut your
arm off.”
“Just keep him alive,” Jeongin’s voice says, an unusual giggle colouring his tone. “He still
has three more things we can use.”
Felix peeks around the corner and already he sees the blood staining the floors. Some is
splattered on the walls, some painting the bodies already hooked up to the ceiling. There on
the table is an unconscious man missing both his arms. One is covered in a heavy bandage
and the other is what Hyunjin’s working on.
Jeongin is standing near him with the severed arm in his grasp and in one split second, Felix
knows he’s not looking at the same Jeongin he’s always known. He’s looking at a completely
different person.
The old Innie wouldn’t touch a dead body, much less hold a severed appendage like a toy.
The old Innie doesn’t giggle about dismemberment and liken the act of disfiguring someone
to something like playtime. The old Innie lives with regrets and hesitation in his eyes - this
Innie doesn’t and Felix knows who to blame.
“You fucker,” he finds himself snapping as he comes out from his corner.
Jeongin and Hyunjin look up in surprise as Felix storms right towards them and grabs
Hyunjin first, ripping him out of his seat and throwing him right onto the bloodied floor.
Hyunjin is stunned and Felix uses that precious stunned second to aim a kick right at his
abdomen.
“You fucking asshole!” Felix screams at him. “You did this to him!”
“Felix, what the fuck?!” Jeongin snaps and Felix feels him taking his shoulder but he shrugs
him off and aims another kick at Hyunjin.
There’s a sense of satisfaction in hearing the other cough and seeing him keel over on the
floor.
“Lix,” Hyunjin coughs, his arms covering his middle protectively. “What are you doing
here?”
“I knew something was different about Innie but I couldn’t put my finger on it!” Felix shouts
at him. “It was you! What the fuck did you do?!”
He almost lands another kick but Jeongin’s arms wrap around his middle, physically pulling
him away from Hyunjin.
“Stop kicking him, what is wrong with you?!” Jeongin yelps as he throws Felix out of the
way and turns to glare at him. “Hyunjin didn’t do anything to me-”
“Bullshit!” Felix screams.
Behind Jeongin, Hyunjin slowly pulls himself back up onto his feet. He’s covered head to toe
in the blood that was already on the floor, his hand is tenderly cradling his abdomen and he
looks at Felix like he’s gone insane. Felix kind of feels like he has but he knows that
whatever this is, Hyunjin did it.
Jeongin locks his arms around Felix to stop him attacking Hyunjin again. Felix is panting,
wild eyed and watching as Hyunjin rubs the blood off his face and reaches over to take
Felix’s arm.
“Don’t touch me!” Felix snaps, ripping his arm out of Hyunjin’s reach as much as he can
with Jeongin still holding onto him. “Don’t fucking touch me, Hyunjin!”
“Hyung, calm!” Jeongin pleads. “Be calm, it’s alright.”
Hyunjin just looks tired and a little confused. His hand still hovers gently over his abdomen
and the more he looks at Felix, the more he seems to realise that Felix knows Jeongin well
enough to know when something fundamental has changed about him.
“We need to talk,” he says and points up. “Alone.”
Jeongin lets go and Felix storms for the ladder. On the way up, he can hear Hyunjin telling
Jeongin to finish up and that he’ll be back but by this point, Felix can’t care less. He’s so
angry and he’s not even sure all of this is about the fact that Hyunjin changed Jeongin or if
this just made his irritation worse than it already was.
He climbs up and feels warmth begin to seep into his skin as he heads out into the kitchen
with Hyunjin close behind him. As soon as they’re out of earshot of Jeongin, Felix turns
around and folds his arms.
“What the fuck did you do to him?” he asks immediately. “And before you spin some bullshit
about how you didn't do anything, I know you did so don’t even try. What did you do?”
Hyunjin’s eye twitches a little and Felix is probably one of the few people in the world who
knows it’s the smallest sign of annoyance. Most people miss the twitch and get full blown
anger but Hyunjin’s body, whether he means to or not, gives warnings all the time. Warnings
that people like Felix are observant enough to see.
“Okay, I won’t bullshit you then,” Hyunjin replies calmly. “I did do something to him but it
wasn’t the horrible thing you seem to think it is. All I did was wake him up.”
Felix’s hand clenches and he has to reel in the strongest urge to punch Hyunjin again.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” Felix snaps. “Why would you do that? That night you
were in the hospital, he lost his mind and went out killing anyone who got too close to him.
He woke up and freaked the fuck out, he’s terrified of that side of him and you just brought it
out - why would you do that?”
“You think he was happy the way he was?” Hyunjin snarls. “He couldn’t remember most of
his childhood. He had psychological reactions to things and didn’t know why. He wasn’t
happy, he was just ignorant!”
“Ignorance is bliss and he was happier not knowing half the shit he’s been through!” Felix
pushes him back and glares. “You weren’t there! You didn’t see him when he was sobbing in
my arms because he’s scared of this new side of him-”
“No, ignorance is not bliss, ignorance is ignorance,” Hyunjin shouts, cutting him off. “Innie
needed to know what happened to him. He needed to remember all the fuckers who ever
wronged him or touched him so he could get his own back. He needed to remember why his
own mother didn’t deserve an ounce of the sympathy he kept giving her, he needed to
remember everything!”
Felix stares at him in disbelief. He already knew Hyunjin was incapable of loving someone
but this went well beyond what he thought the other even capable of. This wasn’t love - at
least not as Felix knew it.
“And as a result, you just made someone as psychotic as you,” Felix says quietly.
Hyunjin just glares. “He was already there,” he says. “He just needed to remember why.”
The back door opens and both look up to see Chan’s head peeking in. He looks between Felix
and Hyunjin, their flushed faces, the way they’re standing off against each other. It doesn’t
take a genius to connect the dots.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Felix says as he stomps away from Hyunjin. He grabs his backpack and heads for
the door.
He’s had enough, more than enough. Somewhere in his mind he can’t even come to terms
with the fact that Jeongin has changed, he just can’t. He’d genuinely liked Jeongin, he was
sweet and considerate and Felix had gravitated to him so naturally. How could he not?
To think that he’s gone and what’s in his place is something that looks like Jeongin, breathes
and talks like him but he’s irrevocably different.
At the core of it as well, Felix is mourning someone he thought hated the truth about the
Gods Menu just as much as he does. And he really does. He hates the cannibalism, he hates
the freezer, he hates going anywhere near it and he refuses to deal with the bodies. He hates
that most of the others either don’t give a shit or they’re actively complicit in what goes on
down there and although he’d never tell the secret to anyone else - because he does genuinely
love each and every single member of Gods Menu, he hates what happens down there.
Up until now, he thought Jeongin did too.
He makes it outside and is about halfway through the parking lot when Chan’s voice catches
up to him. His hand takes Felix’s shoulder and Felix finally stops walking.
“Lix,” Chan says, his hand very gently turning him around to look at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Felix lies. He doesn’t want to get into it, he doesn’t want to talk about it. Not
when he feels a lump in his throat and he’s seconds away from bursting into tears.
As it is, he sniffs and Chan pulls him into a hug which he can’t help but fall into. Felix’s
hands clutch Chan like a lifeline. His whole body sinks into him and he can’t help it. Warm
tears start to wet Chan’s shoulder and when one starts, another follows until he’s just barely
holding himself back from bawling in Chan’s hold.
He’s only in Chan’s arms for a few seconds before the abrupt, sudden sound of a horn makes
both of them jump. Chan’s arms are still tight around Felix’s frame as both of them turn to
see Chan’s car parked not too far away. The driver is in his place, resolutely staring ahead and
pretending he saw nothing but Kaeun is standing just outside the car looking incredibly
annoyed.
Felix frowns, he notices the dress she’s wearing, the way her hair is tied up and looks at Chan
to see the other is dressed up as well. Much more formal than his usual look.
“Were you going out?” Felix sniffs, his sleeve coming up to rub at his face.
“Yeah,” Chan winces. “I just came here to pick something up but I feel really bad leaving you
like this.”
“I’m fine,” Felix blurts, an almost automatic aversion to causing Chan trouble.
Luckily, Chan sees right through him and shakes his head. “You’re not and if I didn’t have to
go to this thing, I’d take you home right now.”
He rubs Felix’s arm and it does make Felix feel a little better.
Until the horn blasts again and Chan groans.

“I’m coming!” he shouts.
“We’re going to be late!” Kaeun calls back. “And not fashionably!”
Chan shakes his head, he turns back to Felix and pats his shoulder.
“Okay, how about this? I need to go to this thing, but you can be my excuse for getting out
early,” Chan bargains with a small grin. “Do you wanna wait at mine?”
Felix thinks about Changbin and he knows the other will be out late tonight. He has
something to do with Wolgang Pa and the thought of that alone makes a shiver crawl up his
spine but there’s nothing to be done for it. At least he knows Changbin can take care of
himself.
He nods and Chan takes the keys out of his back pocket to give to Felix.
“I’ll pick some stuff up on the way home, alright?” he says, eager eyes desperate to cheer
Felix up a little. He still feels guilty that he has to leave right now, Felix can tell. “We can...I
dunno, have a Marvel night or something?”
“I’m really okay,” Felix assures him quietly but Chan doesn’t believe him.
Felix can’t actually blame him. He doesn’t believe himself either.
He sees the way Chan looks at Kaeun. The hesitant and annoyed look in his eyes and Felix
still remembers that Chan had smelt like her the night Hyunjin got shot. He knows Chan well
enough to know that it would take a hell of a lot to get him to go anywhere near Kaeun -
especially close enough that he can smell like her perfume.
That night, his hair had been a mess, his clothes askew and Felix knows why. He just doesn’t
think Chan would have done it willingly.
If he didn’t do it willingly...then that means…
The horn goes off again and Chan turns to look at the car.
“For fucks sake, Kaeun!” he shouts. “I’m coming!”
“Not fast enough!” Kaeun screams. “Get your shit and let’s go!”
Chan is grumbling as he turns around and stomps back towards his office to grab the thing
he’d originally come here for. Felix watches his figure disappear towards the office door and
when he’s gone, he turns his gaze back to the car.
Kaeun is a vision, a glittering vision even underneath dim streetlights as Felix approaches
her. Her glare is cold as ice, somehow getting colder the closer Felix gets.
“What do you want?” Kaeun asks, her tone haughty and irritated.
Felix leans in. He inhales and there it is again, the sweetest scent. Her scent and it was all
over Chan that night. That horrible night and Felix has had more than enough time to think
about it, to think over all the reasons why Chan would ever sleep with her and come to the
most logical and yet, most horrifying one.
“Stay away from him,” he says and when he sees Kaeun’s eyes widen in rage, he leans in. “I
mean it. If you touch him again, I will snap your pretty little neck.”
Kaeun splutters. It’s obvious no one has ever talked to her like this before but Felix has been
dying to say this to her for months.
“Who the hell are you to tell me what to do with him?!” she finally manages to say after a
moment of shock. “He is my husband-”
“And what you did to him is sexual assault!” Felix shouts and again her eyes widen. She’s
clearly not used to being yelled at. “I know what you did to him and I know he wouldn’t have
wanted to do it!”
“How do you know?!” Kaeun snaps defensively. “I didn’t force him! He could have said no,
how do you know he didn’t want to?!”
“Because he’s gay as a window, you vapid, soulless bitch!” Felix screams and maybe it’s
because he knows she raped someone he cares about or maybe it’s a culmination of that and
what just happened with Jeongin but right at that moment, Felix feels absolutely no guilt for
slapping her.
It’s over in a flash. The sound of his hand slapping her cheek echoes in the parking lot and
she falls back against the car - more in shock than because of the pain. She’s just as surprised
as Felix but before anything else can happen, Chan appears right next to him, taking his arm
and pulling him away from her.
“You...I could have you killed for this!” Kaeun splutters, her hand cradling her left cheek
where it’s starting to go pink.
“Kaeun, get in the car,” Chan tells her as he gently pulls Felix behind himself.
“But he-!”
“Get. In, The. Car,” Chan says, his tone firmer than Felix has ever heard it before.
Kaeun is still fuming but she seems to know better than to challenge Chan right now. She
shoots another glare at Felix and climbs back into the car, slamming the door behind her.
The second Chan turns around, Felix shakes his head.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry I just-”

“It’s okay, Lix,” Chan assures him. “It’s alright, I’m not mad at you.”
“But I just-”
“Lix, it’s fine,” Chan says. He takes Felix’s hand and rubs it gently - as if he knows that the
impact of slapping Kaeun would have hurt his palm. “I’ve really gotta go now but hang back
at my place okay? I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Felix still feels so confused, he feels anxious, pent up and worried. It’s not that he regrets
hitting her - she deserved it - but he’d always thought he wasn’t capable of hitting anyone.
Especially a girl. Now he’s gone and hit Hyunjin and Kaeun all in one night.
Chan looks reluctant to leave, especially with Felix in the state he’s in but he squeezes Felix’s
hand one more time before letting go and heading into the car. As the driver takes them away,
Felix is left there feeling extremely cold and so, so confused.
Cafe Rosebud.
In all the years Minho had worked at God’s Menu (and subsequently took the same train back
and forth for years) he’d passed this cafe many times but never felt the need to enter. Mostly
because in the mornings he wasn’t hungry and at night after his shifts, the only thing he
wanted to do was go home to his cats.
But it’s a pretty nice cafe, all things considered. It’s right next to the well lit station and at this
time of night, there aren’t too many people but just enough to put Minho’s mind at ease. The
cafe interior has this nice sandy design going for it, different hues of light browns accented
with just enough greenery relaxes Minho.
In the spread of little round tables and chairs, Minho and Minjun are situated somewhere in
the middle - Minho’s choice.
Minjun pays for the drinks and they wait until the waitress brings them their drinks before
they even start talking.
“Okay,” Minjun sighs as he picks up the little golden spoon he got with his drink and starts
stirring the chocolate syrup in. “As promised, I’ll explain myself.”
Minho doesn’t notice until he looks down but when he sees the two little marshmallows next
to the drink, he blinks. It takes a few moments for the chocolate scent to reach him and he
realises that this hardened kkangpae gang member actually ordered hot chocolate with
marshmallows.
He’d expected something...harder.
“I like marshmallows!” Minjun coughs when he points this out. “Besides, what did you want
me to order? Whiskey? We’re in a freakin cafe!”
“I expected something like a flat white,” Minho admits with a small raised eyebrow. “Or
maybe you take your coffee black?”
“I can’t believe you’re judging me for my choice in hot drink right now,” Minjun pouts.
Minho has to actively remind himself that this guy is actually dangerous and gross and not as
cute as he looks.
“Okay,” he says, brushing the topic of hot chocolate aside. “Explain. Why were you there?”
Minjun makes a point of picking up one of the pink frosted marshmallows and dropping it
into his drink. He scoops it with his spoon and tips it into his mouth. Minho has to avert his
eyes when he sees a pierced tongue lick over the sweet. It’s not that it was unattractive - quite
the opposite - but Minjun is a gross, predatory gang member.
“You know that other guy who stayed at the restaurant until closing?” Minjun asks.
Minho has to think. Right before closing, there were only two customers. Minjun and an
older guy who had arrived about an hour before closing and ordered dinner for himself. He
kept to himself, stayed in his corner, ate quietly and left at the same time as Minjun. He’d
been wholly unremarkable and Minho hadn’t given it a second thought.
“The guy who wore a suit?” he frowns. “What about him?”
“He was there for you,” Minjun continues as he drops the white marshmallow into his drink
and stirs it around. “I saw him come in, saw the way his eyes zeroed on you. He was there to
watch you.”
“How do you know?” Minho frowns. “And for your information, everyone who comes into
the restaurant looks for me. I’m the one who guides people to their seats, they have to deal
with me first.”
“I know when I’m looking at someone who was paid to kill someone else,” Minjun shrugs as
he plops the second marshmallow into his mouth. “What was he wearing?”
Minho shrugs. “A suit?”
“What kind?”
“Why is that important?”
“Because it was an Emporio Armani suit with a straight leg cut, three buttons on the cuffs,
two flap pockets and one chest pocket with a black tie and white silk shirt,” Minjun says
without missing a beat. “He had one knife concealed in his boot and the other one up his
sleeve. He was also packing a handgun on the left side of his suit, probably stitched into the
inner material to keep it from showing.”
Minho blinks slowly but Minjun doesn’t appear to be kidding. He really watched that guy
close enough to make out all of that information.
“I…”
“Somehow, you’ve managed to piss off someone powerful,” Minjun surmises as he brings his
hot chocolate to his lips and takes a small sip. “A suit that expensive suggests that he was
hired by someone very rich and I’m willing to bet he was still wearing it as he was chasing
you which means he’s good at what he does. Good enough that he’s confident a little blood
won’t get on his ridiculously expensive suit anyway.”
Minho frowns and his mind is reeling. Someone powerful? Who did he piss off recently to
warrant that? How did he piss anyone off when he’s spent the better part of the last few
months moping in his apartment and never going anywhere?
His mind comes up blank and all he can do is shake his head.
“I...I can’t have pissed anyone off,” he says, a little helplessly. “Seriously, I don’t get out
enough to make enemies.”
“Have a good, long think about it,” Minjun tells him. “Rich people don’t hire assassins for
someone who just looks at them funny. You’ve really ticked someone off and I’m willing to
bet that guy will be back for you.”
“No really, I go to my work and then I go home afterwards,” Minho splutters. “I don’t go out,
I don’t hang out with anyone other than my cats...I seriously don’t spend enough time outside
to piss anyone off. Especially not someone powerful enough to spend money on having me
killed!”
Minjun looks unconvinced and Minho tries to think. It’s not like he doesn’t know powerful
people. Chan, Changbin and Jisung are all powerful. They’re in the rich circles that can
afford to hire someone to kill for them. But none of them would go after Minho like this.
A few minutes pass by and to his credit, Minjun doesn’t speak. He gives Minho the space he
needs to think through how this could have happened. Who he could have pissed off enough
and every time he comes up running blanks. He can’t think of anyone who would want him
killed.
“Well,” Minjun sighs. “He’s not gonna attack you when you’re with someone. That much we
do know now. Maybe you should stay with a friend for awhile.”
“I can’t leave my cats,” Minho frowns. “And I don’t want to stay with someone else.”
“Minho,” Minjun says slowly. “Someone has been hired to kill you and since he knew where
you worked, there’s a fair chance he might know where you live too. You’re not safe until we
find out who this guy is.”
“We?” Minho blinks. “What’s this got to do with you?”

“Well other than the fact that someone I find hot is in danger?” Minjun points out with a
small, amused chuckle. “There’s also the fact that you’re God’s Menu. You’re Bang Chan’s
employee and all of you are under the protection of Wolgang Pa. Someone is trying to kill
you and as a member of Wolgang Pa, it’s very much my business.”
Minho narrows his eyes and he very much doubts Minjun would have graciously offered his
protection had it been anyone else in danger. But it does make sense...he hates it but it makes
sense.
But then who would he stay with? Who could he risk like that? If someone is trying to kill
him and they find him somewhere else, would his friends be in danger if he stayed with them
too?
He shakes his head at the thought. “I can’t risk anyone else,” he says. “If I went to stay with
someone and this guy found us and killed us both I….I can’t…”
“You could always stay at the pa,” Minjun offers with a small grin. “Headquarters, crawling
with over 50 gang members, most of them on drugs, a lot of them sexual predators-”
“No.”
Minjun laughs and Minho knows the offer wasn’t serious. Still, the thought is terrifying.
“Okay, well you won’t stay with someone else, you won’t stay at the pa, you insist on staying
with your cats...if you go home and that guy knows where you live, you’ll be dead by
morning,” Minjun points out. “So...how about I go home with you?”
“Also no,” Minho frowns.
“Nothing predatory,” Minjun says, his hands up in innocence. “It’s just that I’m also armed
and if that guy comes in through the front door and shoots me, you’re hardly going to lose
sleep over my death.”
...he has a point but Minho still finds himself frowning.
“I’m not that heartless.”
“I’m also a guy who can defend himself so odds are, I’ve got a good fighting chance against
whoever is trying to kill you,” Minjun points out. “Though really, you’d probably be a lot
safer just going to a hotel and using a fake name.”
“My cats-”
“I know, I know,” Minjun rolls his eyes. “This is why I refuse to get pets, people get all soppy
over them. You’ll really risk a bullet to the head just so you can go home to your cats?”
Minho glares and he knows it doesn’t make any sense but he can’t help but worry about his
cats, they’re not just pets to him, they’re family. Especially lately because Jisung hasn’t been
around, they’re all he has. If anything ever happened to them, he’d never forgive himself and
it’s not like he can just pick them all up and take them somewhere safe.
After a moment of thinking it through, Minho takes a deep breath and finally nods.
“Okay. But you’re sleeping on the couch and I have a lock on my bedroom door.”
“Fair enough,” Minjun says, a small smile creeping onto his face. “I promise I’ll keep my
hands to myself.”
Minho looks at him and the problem with Minjun is that he’s not what a dangerous, creepy
thug should stereotypically look like. He’s tall, he’s attractive and when he smiles, Minho
feels his stomach swoop in that weird way it used to before he met both Jisung and Chan and
was free to sleep around with whoever he wanted.
And this guy is going to be sleeping on his couch tonight because someone else is trying to
kill him.
He can’t tell if this is a good idea or the worst idea he’s ever had.
Numb.
Blissful, cold numbness engulfs Kwon and he can’t tell if it’s because of the drugs Hyunjin
pumped him with or because he’s spent the better part of the last day trapped in a freezer and
he can’t feel anything anymore.
It’s better. He’d rather feel nothing than the pain he knows he surely would feel if he wasn’t
so cold.
He can’t look down. He doesn’t want to see what’s left of himself. Jeongin had taken great
pleasure in showing him a video tape of someone eating their lunch and he’d almost thrown
up when he realised the meat was from his arm.
How he can even think coherently is beyond him.
His head lolls to the side and he can see Hyunjin and Jeongin pressed against the wall. To be
more specific, Hyunjin is pressing Jeongin into the wall and taking his lips with a desperate
fervour only matched by Jeongin himself. Jeongin’s hands are sifting through Hyunjin’s hair
and at some point, he jumps and wraps his legs around Hyunjin so the other is pressing him
firmly into the wall to keep him from falling.
Jeongin giggles breathlessly, he tilts his head back, his eyes fluttering as Hyunjin’s lips mark
and bite at his neck.
“Bin’s gonna kill us,” he giggles. “He told us not to fuck in his freezer again.”
“Bin can kiss my ass,” Hyunjin mumbles against his skin.
Jeongin’s breathless giggles are abruptly cut short by a moan when Hyunjin’s hand sneaks
into his trousers.
Kwon’s vision starts blurring. One minute he sees the two of them fully clothed, making out
against the wall and the next both of them have lost their pants and Jeongin is pushing
Hyunjin down to lie on the cold tile floor.
“But I don’t want to,” Hyunjin hisses as his skin makes contact with the tiles.
Jeongin’s laughter is almost demonic. He pushes Hyunjin down until he’s lying down and
proceeds to sit on top of him.
“I had to lie on the floor last time, it’s your turn,” Jeongin says with a gleeful smile. “Besides,
I wanna ride.”
Hyunjin huffs, his hands are holding Jeongin’s bare hips and the other keeps grinding down
and making him see white behind his eyelids. It’s infuriating how much power Jeongin has
over him but Hyunjin will never admit he has even more now that he’s ‘awake’.
Hyunjin can’t get enough of him.
“Fine,” he manages to say after one particularly good grind has his eyeballs rolling to the
back of his head. “But you’re gonna be the one scraping my ass cheeks off the floor when
they freeze to the tiles.”
It gets him a giggle and a sympathetic kiss.
“Poor baby,” Jeongin teases and he pulls him into another kiss as Hyunjin’s hand finds the
back of his head to keep him down for more kisses.
Kwon still doesn’t remember him. Still doesn’t know his name. He’d tried to think all day but
the colder he got, the foggier his memories became. There were so many kids he used to
work with, so many little faces and names, they all blurred together.
Yang….Yang something…
Jeongin’s breathless yelp echoes in the freezer as he pushes himself onto Hyunjin.
Underneath him, Hyunjin bites his lip and tries not to make as much noise. He’s never been
particularly noisy in bed and it’s not for any other reason than control. It’s all about control -
especially in situations like these when he has so little control.
Panting, Jeongin leans over Hyunjin, one hand on either side of his head as he starts rolling
his hips over the other. He adores the way Hyunjin struggles to keep himself silent, struggles
to keep his moans in even though it’s obvious that what Jeongin is doing is driving him
insane.
Jeongin pushes himself up into a sitting position and rolls his hips relentlessly. His panting
breaths and barely restrained moans fill the cold air of the freezer. He’d let Hyunjin keep his
shirt and he’d done the same - it is cold down here after all - but there’s something about
fucking in a freezer he finds oddly addictive.
Perhaps it’s the shocking contrast of Hyunjin’s heated skin to the cold tiles pressing into his
knees or maybe it’s the knowledge that he’s being watched.
He never thought himself as an exhibitionist but then being with Hyunjin has taught him a lot
he didn’t know about himself.
He lifts his hand, cold from pressing into the tiles and slips it under Hyunjin’s shirt. Just as he
finds his nipple, his fingers are freezing cold as they pinch and finally Hyunjin’s silent
composure breaks and he shouts.
“Fucker,” Hyunjin breathes, a small grin painting his pretty face when he sees Jeongin
laughing.
Time seems to be going slow for Kwon. He narrows his eyes and tries to focus on Jeongin’s
features. His doe eyes, the bounce of his hair...he does look familiar but for the life of him,
Kwon can’t put a name to that face.
Much to Jeongin’s protests, Hyunjin pushes himself up into a sitting position. He wraps his
arms around Jeongin and presses his lips to Jeongin’s neck. His hands grab at Jeongin’s waist
and he starts lifting him and slamming him back down. He relishes in the strangled noise
Jeongin makes and feels his entire body shiver every time their skin slaps together.
Jeongin wraps his arms around Hyunjin’s shoulders and holds on, his whimpers and moans
only spurring Hyunjin on more as he takes full control and rolls them over until Jeongin’s on
his back.
Jeongin doesn’t get to protest because Hyunjin blocks his mouth with his own. He swallows
all of Jeongin’s moans, his pleas and whimpers. All Jeongin can do is hold on as Hyunjin’s
hips slam faster, the sound of the slaps echo on the walls.
Maybe there’s something in the way Jeongin’s hands hold Hyunjin’s shoulders. The way they
cling and his fingers clutch that reminds Kwon of the little boy whose mother used to drop
off to him occasionally.
He remembers that one because unfortunately it used to be quite common for mothers to just
give him their kids. Back then, he’d been a prominent photographer and every mother vying
for their kid to be in the spotlight considered the price a reasonable thing to pay.
One afternoon with the photographer alone. No questions asked and their child would have a
spot in the limelight.
No one questioned it. No one reported him because the only mothers who knew about this
clause were the ones who could sell their children to him.
But this one kid in particular, his mother used to drop him off when he was in a ‘mood’.
That was what she called it. His moods where he’d change personality and he wouldn’t
remember anything the morning after. It was incredibly convenient, the boy never did
remember the things Kwon did to him.
What was his name?
“Hyun-” Jeongin pants when Hyunjin lets him breathe. His hands hold Hyunjin tight and he’s
so damn close he’s shivering. His hips move to meet Hyunjin with every thrust and his voice
breaks in Hyunjin’s ear.
“I’ve got you,” Hyunjin breathes.
The way he holds Jeongin, gentle and almost loving, is in stark contrast to the unforgiving
thrust of his hips. But he loves seeing the way Jeongin’s cheeks blush pink with exertion, he
loves seeing his eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling open and only a train of
curses, moans and Hyunjin’s name escaping those pretty lips.
“Mmmclose, I’m really…”
“I’ve got you.”
Jeongin doesn’t moan when he comes. He whimpers, helpless whimpers because he’s losing
all control in that moment. His body spasms and Hyunjin holds him close, one hand holding
his hip and the other behind his head to stop Jeongin hitting it on the floor.
Hyunjin follows soon after with a breathless exhale, Jeongin’s name on his lips and for a
moment they just cling.
Sticky, hot and sweaty on the cold tile floor, they cling and breathe into each others
shoulders. They pant until Jeongin’s hands relax and start stroking Hyunjin’s hair back from
his face. Until their breathing finally evens out and Hyunjin sinks down Jeongin’s body so he
can rest his head on Jeongin’s chest instead.
He feels Jeongin’s hands gently stroking his hair back and he can’t help but close his eyes in
bliss.
Would Jeongin call him a simp if he told him he liked the sound of his heartbeat?
“Jeongin.”
The foreign voice pulls both Hyunjin and Jeongin from their post-sex glow. They look up to
see Kwon, still strapped to his chair and looking at Jeongin with new recognition in his eyes.
“Your name,” he says quietly. “Is Yang Jeongin.”

Hyunjin looks up to see a small smile on Jeongin’s face. His lips stretch just slightly, he looks
more amused. His eyes even seem to sparkle in hidden mirth.
“Well look at that,” Jeongin remarks. “He remembers me.”
Kwon doesn’t say anything. Maybe he can’t. He’s kind of frozen after all, his motor functions
are slowing down. Any longer in this freezer and he won’t have to worry about being eaten
alive. He’ll freeze to death.
Jeongin’s hand is still sifting gently through Hyunjin’s hair and he makes no effort to get up
just yet. He just watches as Kwon stares at them both. Then slowly, Kwon’s eyes start to
close. He’s not going to sleep, his body is shutting down. He’s been down here too long.
That, coupled with the agonising pain of losing both his arms (because Hyunjin had made
sure he could feel everything) and his exhausted body is giving up.
When he slumps in his chair, Jeongin hums and turns his gaze back to Hyunjin.
“Did you know he was one of three photographers my mother sold me to?”
Hyunjin blinks at him. “Why you felt guilty for killing your mother, I’ll never understand.”
“I didn’t know any better,” Jeongin shrugs. “Now I do. What do you say we go find
photographer number two? He can be the Saturday brunch menu.”
It’s reckless. Gods Menu doesn’t have as many bodies coming in because of elections,
they’re all being careful for the sake of not dragging Chan’s father into a scandal. But then
again, Hyunjin doesn’t give a shit about Chan’s father - his father - and as far as he’s
concerned, making sure every slimy pedophile who ever touched Jeongin dies a slow and
agonising death is way more important.
Especially with the way Jeongin asks him, Hyunjin can’t say no to him.
“Let’s find him,” he nods.
He feels something off as they finally get up and clean themselves up. Hyunjin knows he’s
been feeling it all day, something a little different. A little weird and foreign and he feels it
when he’s near Jeongin. He’s been clingy all day and he just can’t help it, he feels he has to
be near him, has to touch him because if he doesn’t, he’ll go mad.
He thought he was obsessed before, now he can’t breathe unless he knows where Jeongin is
at all times. He feels weak when Jeongin smiles at him, when he touches him, when he sings
in that sweet, soulful tone of his.
It’s not until they’ve cleaned the freezer, stuck Kwon on a meathook and finally left the
freezer that Hyunjin finally looks at Jeongin and realises why he’s felt so weird all day.
Fuck.
Holy fuck.
This is love.
Chapter End Notes
Oooooh Hyunjin you done it now.
I believe a lot of the things that happened in this chapter were kind of long overdue so
for those of you who were waiting for certain characters to get their asses kicked - you're
welcome :)
Can you believe it? This story is one year old on the 16th of November and I cannot
believe it's been alive so long. I thought for sure this would crash and burn out but...it's
still here!
I'm a very proud mama. :)
It's because of all of you, your love and support for this story (which I never saw
coming) definitely helped keep it alive! I love all your comments, all your tweets, I read
them all when things get hard and that's why this story is almost one year old now. It's
because of you guys :)
I should make a cake or something to celebrate but then again cake for a story about
cannibalism hits a little differently...hmm, I'll think of something. In the meantime, I
hope you enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you next time!
XXVII: Stercus accidit
Chapter Notes
Warnings for the fainthearted: Blood. Blood and more blood. Lots of blood. I feel like I
spent most of this chapter describing blood and violence.

SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
Because Chan’s main mansion is so far out of the city, one of his (many) apartment buildings
is located right in the heart of Hongdae.
Even at night, this particular part of the city doesn’t tend to sleep and indeed, many clubs,
restaurants, cafes and shops are still open and bustling as Felix makes his way towards the
apartment building from the train station.
His mind is still racing. He doesn’t know what got into him. In his life he can count on
perhaps one hand how many people he’s ever hit because he’s not actually like that. He
doesn’t assault people, he doesn’t hit. He gets angry but he’s faster to chew them out than hit
them.
Tonight he’d hit both Hyunjin and Kaeun - both of whom still deserved it but Felix is still
horrified that he’d resorted to violence on both accounts.
He passes a gaggle of drunk students as he makes a turn at the lights and heads into the
apartment building. He heads into the elevator with the familiarity of someone who has been
here a lot of times before and as soon as he’s in the elevator, he hits the button for the eighth
floor and leans back against the wall.
His mother would be so disappointed in him. So would his step-dad. They’d raised all their
children to be passive and by nature they were but Felix just saw red tonight.
Perhaps he isn’t as naturally passive as his sisters because their father is different.
As soon as the elevator hits the eighth floor, Felix pulls the keys from his pocket and heads
out. He walks down the long hallway and once he reaches Chan’s apartment door, he looks
down and stops in surprise.
Han Jisung is sitting on the floor right next to the door.
At first Felix thinks he’s asleep. He’s kind of hunched over, engulfed in his massive hoodie
with his airpods playing music so loudly it leaks into the hallway. Then he lifts his head and
Felix waves as Jisung pulls his airpods out and stands up.
“Hey,” he smiles and Felix can see the red tint under his eyelids that give away he’s been
crying. “Chan with you?”
“No, he’s out tonight,” Felix tells him, he jingles the keys in his hands. “He’ll be back later, I
just came here to wait for him.”
He can see the disappointment in Jisung’s eyes. For a moment, he doesn’t seem to know what
to do with himself as he looks up and down the hallway as though hoping Chan might turn up
anyway.
“Oh,” he mumbles. “Well I...I guess I should head home and leave you guys to it-”
“Nonsense, come in,” Felix says, grabbing his arm before he can escape.
Jisung frowns. “You sure? I don’t wanna butt in.”
“Not butting in on anything,” Felix assures him and with one hand holding Jisung’s arm, the
other opens the door. He pushes Jisung gently inside first and follows him in. “Come wait
with me, I could do with the company anyway.”
They’re familiar enough with the apartment by now that they fall into the routine of entering
it without Chan fairly easily. Felix takes his shoes off whilst Jisung punches in the code to
disengage the security alarm. As one, they head into the kitchen and Felix checks on the
contents of the fridge whilst Jisung raids the pantry.
“Does Chan just stock all his apartments even when he’s not using them?” Felix asks as he
pulls a bottle of orange juice out and sets it on the counter. “All his places just have so much
food waiting, he’s never out of anything.”
“That’s me and Bin,” Jisung says where his head is still stuck in the pantry. “When we can’t
be assed going back home, we use his apartments so he keeps them stocked for us. It used to
be Bin using these places a lot but since that thing with Minho I…”
Felix turns to look at him and Jisung is biting his lip. He’s doing that thing where he’s trying
to stop himself from crying but he’s on the verge of it.
He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I lost the key to this place...that’s why I was
kind of hoping Chan would be here tonight. Good thing you’re here.”
Felix smiles, he watches Jisung pull out a bag of chips and sit himself on the counter to eat
them. Felix closes the fridge and pulls out two glasses, he fills them both and hands one to
Jisung who accepts it with a small mumbled thanks.
“He might be awhile, he has this thing he needs to go to with Kaeun,” Felix mentions and
Jisung groans at her name.
“Great, a night with her, he’ll love that,” Jisung mutters.

Felix winces a little, his hand doesn’t sting anymore but it still remembers the feeling of
slapping her. He’s never lost control of himself like that. But in the heat of the moment, in the
heat of his anger all he wanted to do was hit her.
There must be some sort of expression of guilt on his face because Jisung sits up and looks at
him a little closer.
“Hey, Lix, you alright?”
“Yeah, I…” Felix trails off for a moment before looking at Jisung properly. “Do you wanna
order pizza and watch something on Netflix?”
For the first time tonight, he sees a smile on Han Jisung’s face. Even with his tearful eyes,
he’s glad to see it.
The car is silent and with his splitting headache, Chan is glad for it. Kaeun sits opposite him,
her eyes staring out the window and her mind a million miles away which is why Chan feels
safe enough to take out two pills and down them with a glass of the leftover champagne.
Minho would kick his ass if he saw Chan taking medication with alcohol but thankfully,
Minho isn’t here.
Leaning his head back on the headrest, Chan closes his eyes and enjoys the quiet roll of the
engine as the car takes them from the jetplane to Kaeun’s apartment. The event had been
quick but not painless. A glittering ballroom of gowns, sweeping dresses, expensive suits and
so much champagne and wine, Chan was drowning in it.
Their appearance hadn’t been missed and when Chan had dutifully announced they were
expecting a child, the media reacted exactly the way his father had been expecting.
They’ll be all over the front page tomorrow, their news will reflect wonderfully on the
prospects of his father. It’s strange how that works, the average joe sees this in the
newspapers and relates to his father more because of it. Because his son is human, he’s doing
human things, they relate to a human who’s trying to be president.
If they only knew the truth.
“Is it true what he said?”
Opening his eyes, Chan glances at Kaeun to see her eyes still staring out the window.
He places his empty champagne glass aside and goes back to closing his eyes. If he can ward
off this migraine before he reaches Felix, he’ll consider that a win.
“Is what true about who said?” he mutters, ignoring the fact that what he said makes
absolutely no sense.
Kaeun seems to understand him anyway. “Your blonde, freckled boy? Felix? He said I raped
you, is that true?”
Chan holds in a long-suffering sigh. When he doesn’t answer right away, he feels her eyes on
him, expectantly waiting for an answer.
“It’s not like I said no,” he points out quietly.
“It’s not like you said yes either,” Kaeun counters. “I wanted something to hold against my
father, I wanted some sort of leverage over how he’s treated me all my life and at the time...I
was both attracted to you and hated you.”
Chan wishes he had some sort of cold compress for his head. It’s killing him.
“I didn’t think of it as rape,” Kaeun admits quietly. “I think of rape as like...the victim
screaming while you hold her down and do awful things whilst she says no, I didn’t think
rape was having sex with a gay man despite him explicitly telling you he’s gay and he’s only
doing this because it’s a condition of you behaving well.”
“Rape is any sort of sexual activity without consent,” Chan clarifies tiredly. “You had my
consent.”
“You didn’t have a choice, I made it a condition,” Kaeun frowns.
“Well fuck, Kaeun,” Chan groans, he finally opens his eyes to look at her. “What do you want
me to say? Yes you raped me?”
“Yes!” Kaeun snaps, her eyes wide with alarm. “Honestly I’d rather you told me that! I’ve
been feeling off about the whole thing ever since your blonde Australian pointed it out and
now I feel like shit because I didn’t know it was rape. I thought it was just me winning one
over my father.”
Thank fuck the pain medication is working but Chan can still feel it throbbing. He sighs
heavily and rests his head back on the headrest so he can close his eyes. An awkward kind of
silence engulfs the car and he finds himself wishing the driver would go faster just so he can
get out of this suffocating air.
A few minutes pass, neither speak. Kaeun goes back to looking out the window and Chan
feels his pain ebbing away very slowly.
One day that medication isn’t going to do anything. One day he’ll be too weak to fight his
migraines off. One day they’ll put him on life support and that’s when they’ll all realise how
sick he is...assuming he can keep it a secret from all of them until then.
It’s bad enough that Minho and Jeongin already know.
He knows how it’ll happen, he knows what has to happen afterwards. He’s been planning this
for a very long time and yet it all depends on how long he can hold out. How long he can grin
through his migraines, take his medication and hope to god it works.
“You know, the fact that you’re bothered about whether or not you raped me is promising,”
he says quietly. “If you were really as bad as Felix probably thinks you are, you wouldn’t be
bothered by it.”
Kaeun frowns. “If you told me that you’d do something I wanted on the condition that I sleep
with you - and if I wasn’t attracted to you - I’d consider it rape. I don’t know how I didn’t
think of that when I made it a condition for you.”
Chan opens his eyes to look out the window. The city passes them by, lights blurring until
they’re nothing but white blurs of light. He sees tired businessmen on their way home,
couples on a date, groups out for the night and not for the first time he wishes he wasn’t
dying. He’s not even thirty yet, he hasn’t even been alive long enough to enjoy his life to the
full and there’s so much he still wants to do.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again. He’s not allowed to cry now, especially in
front of Kaeun. He hasn’t cried about his condition since he found out about it, he’s not about
to start now. There’s just too much to do.
“Kaeun,” he says once he’s sure his voice isn’t going to wobble. “I won’t tell you how to live
your life but what I will say is that you have a little more freedom now than you did with
your father.”
He turns his head to look at her and she doesn’t look like herself. She never does when
they’re alone. Chan has known this for awhile but when they’re alone like this, Kaeun lets
her guard down and it shows. She doesn’t exude an overwhelming sense of self confidence,
she doesn’t shoot down everything he says before he can say it.
She’s a bitch on the outside but inside, her father had raised her to believe she’d be nothing
more than a trophy wife. He’d shut down all ambition, all sense of self worth and it shows.
Chan only knows this because he’s been raised in the same world as her, Kaeun is made of
glass on the inside.
“The only thing you have to worry about is the public eye but if you want to get a lover, I
don’t care. If you want a bigger house, go for it. If you want pets, go for it. Do whatever you
want to do because we both know I earn enough to make your life very comfortable. Find
what makes you happy.”
A shadow of rare self-doubt crosses her eyes. “And what if I don’t know what makes me
happy?”
“Then try stuff out,” Chan shrugs. “Maybe you’re a bitch to everyone else because you’ve
been unhappy all your life. Try finding something that makes you happy and don’t worry
about what everyone else thinks. Could be sky-diving? Binging movies? Going to the beach,
having lots of pets? Try it all out, you have the time and the money. And while you do all of
that, try becoming a person you want to be, because clearly if you’re worried about raping
me, you’re not someone you like. So change.”
The car finally pulls to a stop and Chan looks up to see they’re right outside Kaeun’s
apartment building. He turns back to her to see his message sunk in, she’s surprised but she’s
thinking about it and considering his words carefully.
“Give it some thought,” he says as he opens the door and shifts back to let her out.
She climbs out but before he can close the door, she puts her hand on it and looks at him.
“Are you sure there’s no chance you could be attracted to me?” she asks. “I’ve been bred my
entire life to look the way I do, I’ve been through surgeons and beauty specialists and
everything. They always told me no man would be able to resist me.”
Chan wants to roll his eyes but he can tell she’s serious. She’s a girl who’s never been told no
in her life and she was raised to value this over her own education. Her parents had made sure
of that and sure, maybe to any asshole she’d be a fine trophy wife and nothing more but Chan
never wanted that.
“I’m gay as a fruitbat, honey,” he tells her. “That means, never gonna want girls. Ever. I know
you’ve been raised to be nothing more than a pretty face but I promise you there has to be
more to you. I refuse to believe you’re just a two dimensional rich bitch, no one is that
shallow.”
Kaeun nods, she seems to understand him. Reluctant but she finally gets it. “You’re really not
going to do anything about your blonde slapping me?”
“I’m going to check in on him and make sure he’s okay but as far as repercussions go, no. I
think he needed to slap you and to be honest, I think you needed the slap. You’ve obviously
got a lot to think about tonight,” Chan shrugs. He nods to her hand stopping the car door from
closing. “Now head up to your apartment and just...relax. Think. I don’t need you to do
anything more than that.”
Finally Kaeun steps back and Chan manages a small smile before he reaches over to close the
door so the driver can finally take him home. The car pulls away from the curb and he
watches Kaeun’s small figure shrink in the distance.
Maybe, it’s thin hope but maybe, there’s still hope for her yet.
The bedroom window is open. On such a warm night, a cooling breeze sifts in, brushing the
curtain aside and providing some fresh air for the occupants.
Not that Hyunjin really notices it. He’s too busy staring at Jeongin whilst he sleeps.
It’s funny. Before this change, Jeongin used to have nightmares all the time. Many, many
times Hyunjin would wake up and roll over to see a frown on Jeongin’s pretty face. Those
lovely eyebrows furrowed as he’d toss and turn and whine until he finally woke up from
whatever was plaguing his dreams.
But now he sleeps soundly. There’s no strain on his face, no frown, everything is relaxed and
he breathes in deep.
It’s beautiful.
Tracing his finger along the bridge of Jeongin’s nose, Hyunjin props himself up with his other
elbow as he moves his fingers gently along Jeongin’s face. He knows every line, every bump,
every inch of skin. He knows how wide Jeongin’s big bambi eyes can get and he knows what
the other looks like when he smiles. When he’s crying, when he’s angry, he knows all the
infinite ways Jeongin’s face can move.
His hand trails down Jeongin’s neck, to his collarbone and down to his chest where he rests
his palm above Jeongin’s steady heartbeat.
Fucking hell.
If it’s love, it’s heavy. All at once Hyunjin feels like he can’t breathe, that he’d live and die
for Jeongin and he’s never felt that way about anyone before. Even with Seungmin there was
some gap between them, with Felix it’s the same but Jeongin…
If Hyunjin were air, he’d want to be in Jeongin’s lungs and stay there. If he were blood, he’d
want to circulate Jeongin’s body and never leave, if he were anything, he’d want to be near
Jeongin. As close as he can possibly get.
But then what do normal people do about this emotion? He’s seen Minho and Jisung tell each
other that they love each other and he’s found it nauseating. He can’t imagine himself telling
Jeongin that he loves him, he can’t imagine even saying it aloud. The fact that he’s even
thinking it is enough to make him shrivel up.
Is it alright if he never says it? Does Jeongin even need to know? Some things in life are
easier than this, murder and decapitation is easier than trying to figure out how one deals with
these suffocatingly heavy feelings.
He needs to walk.
Pressing a small kiss to Jeongin’s forehead, Hyunjin pulls the sheets back and climbs out of
bed. His bare feet make little noise on the carpet as he heads out of the room and closes the
door behind him with the quietest click. He’s dressed in grey sweatpants and a black shirt but
the night is warm enough and late enough that he doesn’t bother actually getting dressed.
Instead he just heads down the hallway, slips on his shoes, grabs his coat and heads out the
front door.
Down on the streets, Hyunjin heads out onto the footpath. In his area, cars driving by at all
hours of the night is more common than it would be in a residential. No one pays him
attention, it’s dark enough and late enough that all most people seem to want to do is go
home.
Hyunjin digs a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and pauses to light one up. The
nicotine provides very little relief from the confusing mess that is his brain but it’s something.
He feels his shoulders relax a little, his nerves dulling just a bit with that first drag and with
one hand, he puts the packet back into his pocket whilst the other holds the cigarette between
his lips so he can take a few more long, deep drags.
Maybe it doesn’t have to be a thing. Maybe he can just continue with his life and ignore it.
After all, what does it really change? Hyunjin already knew long before this that Jeongin
would be his forever so this isn’t anything new. All it means now is that there’s a little more
feeling to it, that’s all.
He doesn’t need to say it. Jeongin never needs to know about it. It’s just a thing that can be
ignored.
Except that every time Hyunjin looks at Jeongin, he feels the almost magnet-like urge to be
near him. To kiss him, fuck him, choke him, probably even kill him for getting under his skin
like this.
Little fucker.
If he could transfer this feeling to someone else, would they tell him it’s love?
Fuck, maybe.
Taking another drag, Hyunjin heads down the footpath, blowing out smoke as he goes. He
knows he can’t walk far. Even now, he’s barely one block away and he wants to go back,
crawl back into bed and listen to Jeongin breathe.
Is that normal?
If he were the type of person to talk about his feelings with another, maybe he’d have called
Seungmin or Felix. Maybe he’d have asked them about this so he can at least have someone
else telling him if it’s love or not. Surely they’d know, they’re healthier than him when it
comes to emotional shit.
What strange words, love and hate. He’s never told someone he loves them and he’s never
told someone he hates them either. Such emotions are better shown, not told.
He can hate Jeongin. He can love him too. He can spend hours fantasizing about him and
then spend another set of hours hating that Jeongin distracts him so much. He finds himself
thinking about Jeongin when he’s not near him. During shifts on the main floor when he
knows Jeongin’s in the kitchen, if he can’t stand at the window and watch him, he’ll think
about him. He’ll hear Jeongin’s laugh in his mind, he’ll relive every moment Jeongin’s ever
touched him, he’ll think about it over and over whilst he’s serving tables.
Then when he goes home, he’ll watch Jeongin, follow him around and if they’re in different
rooms, he thinks about him. Wonders where he is, calls his name if he’s feeling needy.
Even when he sleeps, there’s no relief. Hyunjin doesn’t dream often but when he does dream,
those big bambi eyes appear again.
Love or obsession?
He stops at the corner and stares at the streetlights without really focussing on them. The
cigarette burns away between his fingers and he’s so deep in thought that he doesn’t notice it
until it’s far too late.
The screech of tyres, a van pulls up to the curb. Out of the corner of his eye, Hyunjin notes
the black van, sees the blacked out windows and memorises the license plate. Then the door
slides open and three large men in masks run out and come straight for him.
Hyunjin barely gets the chance to move before one of them has his arm around his middle.
With a yell, Hyunjin turns the cigarette between his hands and presses the burning side down
on the bare hand holding him still. The man yelps and lets go but that’s when the other two
grab Hyunjin, one around his torso and the other holding his legs.
By this point, Hyunjin is twisting his body like hell. He’s trying to kick his legs, move his
arms, anything to get him out of their grip but he’s one against three and he’s not armed.
“-fuck off me, GET OFF ME!!” he shouts as the third man has to grab him to keep him still
enough.
They toss him into the van and climb in after him. The van then takes off, leaving a trail of
dirt in its wake and one very confused homeless man who saw it all from the park bench.
Fluffing the pillow, Minho places it on the corner of the couch and checks over the sheets
he’s laid out. His cats are watching the intruder, half wary and half intrigued as Minho brings
out a blanket and spreads it over the couch.
“Really, I’ve slept on bare concrete before, this is more than comfortable enough,” Minjun
comments, an amused smile stretching his lips as he watches Minho fuss over the couch.
“You don’t have to put yourself out for me, I’ll probably be up all night making sure no one
comes in through the door anyway.”
“I was raised by a pedophile who was in love with my mother and he barely taught me
anything but one thing I do remember teaching myself was how to treat guests,” Minho says
as he tucks the blanket in and goes to get another one. “No matter how much I don’t like
them.”
Minjun pouts and taps the left side of his chest. “You cut me deep, darling. If I had a heart,
I’m sure it would have cracked.”
Minho spreads the blanket out and has to bite the inside of his cheek. This gangster is not
attractive and he most certainly is not funny.
Dammit.
Once he’s satisfied the couch is comfortable enough, he sighs and turns to Minjun.
“Bathroom is down the hall, don’t empty my fridge and the TV remote is here,” he nods to
the remote sitting on the coffee table. “Do you need anything before I go to bed?”
It surprises him that despite Minjun’s obvious intentions, there’s nothing alarming about him.
Minho’s been around people with ill intentions towards him, his own stepfather (if that’s
what one would have to call him) made sure to plant all the red flags in Minho’s mind but
Minjun isn’t setting any of them off. Instead he’s kept his distance since they got here, the
cats haven’t attacked him and he’s made no attempt to make a move on him.
“I’ll be fine,” Minjun assures him. “You said you have a lock on your bedroom door, right?”
“Yes,” Minho says, folding his arms. “And I’m going to lock my door tonight. I’m taking my
cats with me too.”
“Fine,” Minjun shrugs. “If anything happens in your room, shout. If something happens out
here, don’t open the door until I tell you to, alright?”
Minho frowns, a thought coming to his head as he turns to glance warily at the front door.
Someone did try to attack him tonight but would they try again? Do they know where he
lives? That’s why Minjun is there but still...Minho feels uncertain.
“What if they manage to kill you?” he asks.
“I saw a fire escape,” Minjun tells him. “Go out the window and call for help. Don’t come
back for me, don’t worry about me, just run. Got it?”
The thought of having to do that sets Minho’s nerves on fire but he nods. Right. And at least
if the assassin kills Minjun, he’s not losing someone he actually cares about. He’d feel guilty,
Minjun’s actually surprisingly friendly and maybe he’s not all that bad, but he’s not Jisung or
Chan or someone Minho would be crushed to lose.
...what a callous way of thinking about it.
“Well...if there’s nothing else you need, I’m going to bed,” Minho says as he makes his way
towards his bedroom.
“I can think of one thing but you’d turn me down flat,” Minjun’s voice teases as the cats
follow Minho to his room.
“Yes, I would,” Minho shoots back. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night.”
Once all four cats are inside, Minho closes the door and locks it. The cats watch from the bed
as he heads for the desk and grabs the chair to drag it to the door and wedge it underneath the
doorknob.
Wouldn’t put it past the gangster to know how to pick a lock.
Sitting on the end of his bed, Minho takes a deep breath. He’s still anxious. It’s hard for him
to believe someone was following him tonight, someone had tried to kill him and even now
he can feel his brain trying to rationalise it for him.
Maybe that person wasn’t trying to kill him. Maybe they were just going to hurt him a little.
Maybe they weren’t even going to do that, maybe they just wanted to talk...and they have no
social skills.
His hand picks at his knee and he has to close his eyes. Once, Jisung told him about a guy
who tried to kill him during a debate Chan’s father was doing. The man had chased Jisung
through the building before they finally ended up in a room. Through sheer luck, Jisung
managed to kill the man in self-defense but he remembers Jisung telling him that the shock
had set in first.
The trauma of it was what happened afterwards.
“Thing about trauma is you don’t really realise it’s happening when it’s happening,” Jisung
had said one night after an insane amount of greasy Chinese food and a horror movie neither
of them are watching ever again. “It feels weird, maybe? You don’t recognise it for what it is
until afterwards when you have to process it. That can take days, weeks, even years. It could
be a really long time before you’re able to sit down and think ‘huh, that was actually
traumatising and it actually happened to me’.”
He misses Jisung. On a night like this, what would they be doing? Would the man have even
come after him if Minho had been walking to the station with Jisung? Would Minjun be on
his couch if Jisung was here? If Jisung even knew someone had tried to...Minho doesn’t even
know what that guy was trying to do but he doubts it was anything friendly.
His cats are already settled in their usual spots on his bed when he gets up and pulls his shirt
over his head to change into his pyjamas. His eyes catch the mirror in the corner of the room
and he notices the dark bruise blooming on his shoulder where the man had grabbed him.
He’d grabbed him really hard, Minho frowns as he looks over the marks on his shoulder.
They’re large, purple and tender to the touch.
Maybe the man was trying to kill him.
The thought makes Minho’s stomach churn, the fact that he could have died tonight isn’t
really hitting him full force. There’s something stopping him from going into a full blown
panic attack.
Still, it’s not until he dresses himself into his nightclothes, checks his window and sits on the
end of his bed that he notices something.
His hands won’t stop shaking.
Felix looks up when he hears the front door. He jumps up from the couch, leaving Jisung
there with his phone as he heads into the foyer to see a very tired looking Chan in the middle
of taking his shoes off.
“How was it?” Felix asks as he leans forward to take Chan’s bag for him.
Chan’s exhausted appearance melts with a smile, the two head back into the living room
where Jisung waves upon seeing Chan.
“Didn’t know there’d be a party here,” Chan comments with a grin.
“Sorry, I didn’t know where else to go,” Jisung winces. “I can leave-”
“No, stay, stay,” Chan chuckles as he pats Jisung’s shoulder and sits down next to him.
“You’re always welcome here, you know that.”
Felix settles on Chan’s other side and for a moment, the three of them focus on what’s on the
TV. It’s easier than focussing on the reason why they’re all here in the first place. Felix’s head
rests on Chan’s shoulder, an automatic reaction to having him near and after a few minutes,
Jisung’s head follows on Chan’s other shoulder.
They don’t talk, not for a good half hour before Chan finally interrupts the movie with a sigh.
“Okay,” he pats Felix’s knee. “Let’s start with you.”
Felix groans but he doesn’t put up a fight as he lifts his head from Chan’s shoulder and looks
at him. He’d been spending most of the night not thinking about it but now that he has to,
he’s reminded that he’d been on the edge for awhile. Tonight was just a culmination of not
only beating the shit out of Hyunjin but also calling out Kaeun and slapping her.
To say it worries him that he’d automatically resorted to violence would be an

understatement, he’d always thought of himself as a peacekeeper. Someone who would rather
solve conflicts with words, not actions.
Tonight proved him wrong.
“I’m sorry I hit her,” he winces as Chan turns to look at him properly. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I’m not going to bite your head off for hitting her,” Chan assures him. “Kaeun’s been a little
bitch for a long time, someone probably needed to slap some sense into her and as rough as
your methods were - something did sink in for her.”
Felix bites his lip and Chan continues gently. “What I’m worried about is what brought you
to that point. With the Hyunjin thing too, I’d expect violence from literally everyone else
before you so what’s going on?”
Felix can see Jisung’s concern on his face as well and it somehow makes this situation worse.
“It’s Innie,” he says quietly. “Innie’s changed and Hyunjin is the one who changed him.”
Chan frowns. “Innie changed?”
“I think he did, but I seem to be the only person who noticed. Me and Hyunjin anyway,”
Felix winces. “At first I thought I was just seeing things but then I saw Innie in the freezer
and I...I just…”
Chan exchanges a concerned look with Jisung. Wordlessly, both agree they need to talk about
the freezer thing later with Changbin. Something isn’t working there.
“Maybe I’m just imagining things but I could swear he changed,” Felix says, his eyes trained
on his knees because he can’t look at either of them whilst he’s talking. “The look in his eyes,
it’s the same one I saw that night we found him after he’d escaped the hospital. Remember?”
Chan nods, he’d remembered that too. He hadn’t seen Jeongin but he’d seen the aftermath
and if what Felix is saying is true then it means that Jeongin’s entire mentality has changed.
Whether it’s for the best or worst however…
“That, I can understand,” Chan finally says. “But I get the feeling something else is going on
with you too. Normally you wouldn’t react like this, you’d get angry sure but I don’t think
you’d resort to beating the shit out of Hyunjin first so I think something else is up with you.”
Felix winces again and Chan hit the nail on the head. It’s not just Hyunjin, it’s not just Kaeun
either. Both of those events had only aggravated something that was already wrong and had
been wrong ever since Felix got a call from one of his sisters.
The confession comes out from him before he even has the time to think about it.
“I miss home.”
All at once, he sees something change in both Chan and Jisung’s faces. Their looks of
concern melt into equal expressions of recognition. Like a puzzle piece fitting beautifully into
place, in one instant they know what’s wrong with Felix.
“Okay,” Chan says. “Let’s send you home then.”
“I don’t wanna go,” Felix argues with a frown. “Not right away, there’s too much stuff
happening here and what if Innie gets worse and...and-”
“Not forever, just for a visit,” Chan interrupts as gently as he can. “It’s completely
understandable that you’d miss home, you’ve been gone for years. And besides, the stuff
happening here is going to happen with or without you, you might as well get a break.”
It’s at this moment that the three of them hear the front door open and close. They look up,
listening to the sound of someone taking their shoes off and a few moments later, Changbin
appears in the doorway. He pauses at the sight of all three of them and waves.
“I feel like I’ve just walked in on an inquisition.”
Jisung laughs, watching as Felix jumps up from the couch and goes to hug Changbin first.
“Not at all,” Chan says. “I was just telling Felix that he might benefit from going home for a
bit. Maybe a week or two?”
Changbin’s eyes widen. “Home? Australia?”
“Just for a bit,” Chan assures them both. “Take some time to recharge, visit family and
friends, it might be just what he needs.”
Felix snuggles his face into Changbin’s shoulder and he doesn’t comment on it but he is
thinking about it. Maybe Chan’s right, maybe he does need to go home. Just for a little while,
he has been gone a long time after all and it was that call with his sister that really triggered
it. Something had felt wrong and out of place for awhile, that situation with Jeongin and
Kaeun was just the icing on top of a very shitty cake.
“Think about it,” Chan says. “If you wanna go home for a bit, I’ll be more than happy to send
you back myself and cover your shifts. It’s fine.”
Felix nods but he seems content snuggling into Changbin for the time being. Chan then turns
to Jisung and throws an arm over his shoulders. The way Jisung immediately cuddles into
him tells him more than enough.
“What’s on your mind?” Chan asks.
“Everything,” Jisung mumbles. “I’m worried about that kkangpae guy frequenting the
restaurant - it’s obvious he’s there for Minho but I’m also worried about Minho. He’s been
waiting for an answer from me - and he deserves one - but it’s been months and I still can’t
make up my mind.”
Changbin and Felix come back to the couch, watching curiously as Jisung tries to sort
through his head to find the right words to articulate what he’s feeling.
“He’s waiting on me and in the meantime we talk sometimes like we’re...friends?” Jisung
winces. They were never friends, he and Minho started off hot from the very beginning
(awkward, but neither had the intention of stopping at friendship with each other) “I have a
choice: I can either take him back and accept that what he feels isn’t going to change or I can
end it and...I can’t make up my mind.”
Chan winces, after all this has something to do with him too. He glances at Changbin who
shakes his head. As far as Changbin is concerned, the thing with Chan and Minho ended the
night before Minho officially met Jisung. They did nothing wrong by spending one night
together - how could either of them have guessed that there would still be feelings years
down the line?
“The thing is, I like what we have now,” Jisung mumbles quietly. “We get to talk to each
other and sometimes we even go out for coffees like...like friends. It’s safer this way, I get to
see him and I don’t have to break up with him or accept that I’m not the only one he loves.
It’s safer.”
“But you can’t keep him on a string like that forever,” Changbin butts in gently. “He needs an
answer sooner or later. Either keep him with you or cut him loose, this in-between is doing
neither of you any favours.”
“Bin’s right,” Chan speaks up, a little reluctantly. “It might hurt but he needs you to come
down on this. One way or the other, he looks like he’s not getting much sleep these days and
god knows he doesn’t get out much and you…” he makes a point of looking at Jisung’s red-
rimmed eyes. “Han...this isn’t any way to live.”
“But there’s a gangster who keeps hanging out at the restaurant, he’s clearly got his eyes on
Minho,” Han growls.
Chan and Changbin, having both been away from the restaurant during its running hours,
look confused. “What gangster?”
“He’s kkangpae, probably from Wolgang Pa,” Jisung says. “You’ve seen him, Fe.”
“Through the window,” Felix points out. “I’m not out on the floor but yes, I have seen him.”
“What does he look like?” Changbin asks.
It takes both Jisung and Felix a moment to think of how to describe him.
“Tall,” Felix says slowly. “Not...unattractive.”
“Are you kidding me, the guy is fucking ugly,” Jisung frowns. “He’s like a wannabe-biker
dressed in leather with tattoos running up and down his arms-”
“Muscled arms,” Felix adds quietly.
“And scars on his face-”
“Pretty face,” Felix mumbles, smirking when he sees Changbin frown.

“He’s ugly!” Jisung insists.
On cue, Chan turns to look at Felix who is already shaking his head.
“Actually he’s kind of hot,” Felix admits quietly.
“Okay,” Changbin sighs, his thinly veiled jealousy and annoyance only comes out with the
way he holds Felix a little tighter to himself. “That narrows this down, did either of you get a
name?”
Felix shakes his head and Jisung has to think for a moment. He’d actually spent most of that
time being concerned about the way the gangster had been looking at Minho but he does
remember one of the others he’d come with calling him by his name. Choi...Choi
something…
“Choi...Minjun,” Jisung mutters at last. “I think.”
Changbin frowns and Chan catches the look of recognition on his face.
“Know him?”
“Yeah,” Changbin mutters, his arm tight around a very amused Felix. “He’s Wolgang. He’s
the brother of Wooyoung’s guard and I don’t think we can trust him at all.”
“He’s Wolgang, we shouldn’t trust anyone from there,” Jisung frowns.
“No, we need to keep an eye on this guy,” Changbin says. “We have a connection with
Wolgang Pa, it’s true, but this guy is new and I don’t trust him. I never did. If he’s taking a
special interest in the restaurant and in Minho, we need to watch him very closely.”
Suddenly Jisung looks a lot more unnerved than he did before. He looks a little lost for a few
moments before he pulls his phone out of his pocket and turns to Chan.
“Can I use a room?”
“Use any room you like,” Chan shrugs, watching as Jisung hops up and heads into the
bedroom.
He shuts the door behind him and a momentary silence falls over the three on the couch. All
of them digesting what they’ve just learnt.
Changbin finally breaks the silence with a small, quiet, almost insecure: “...do you really
think that guy is hot?”
Felix laughs and Chan heads into the kitchen to get himself some water. It’s been a long
night.
-
It’s almost two in the morning when Minho’s phone goes off, breaking him out of his light
sleep. All around him, the cats roll around, Soonie glares at the sudden buzzing sound whilst
Doongie and Onyx couldn’t give two shits. Dori is busy patting Minho’s hair, as if silently
telling him to make the phone stop buzzing.
Rolling a little in bed, Minho grabs the phone and ducks back under the blankets. He forgets
to check the screen before he hits answer and puts the phone to his ear with a very groggy:
“Hello?”
“Minho?”
Jisung. Minho is suddenly wide awake. He sits up, ignoring the way Soonie and Dori yelp at
the sudden movement as his whole attention is on the breathing on the other end of the call.
“...Han?”
“Hey, sorry, did I wake you?”
“No,” Minho lies. All of a sudden he feels self conscious, as if Jisung can see him and he
starts brushing his hair down with his free hand. “No, I um...I couldn’t get to sleep anyway.”
He glances at his bedroom door and sure enough, there is still light flooding in from under
the door. Either Minjun is still awake and in the living room or he’s fallen asleep on the
couch and left the lights on. Minho doesn’t know and he doesn’t want to check either.
“Sorry for calling so late,” Jisung continues and Minho can hear the insecurity in his voice. “I
didn’t realise it was so late until I called and now I...um...feel like an ass.”
“It’s fine, I wasn’t sleeping that well anyway,” Minho chuckles. “What’s up? What made you
call me anyway?”
“I was just...worried,” Jisung admits quietly. “I also kind of wanted to apologise. I know I’ve
been making you wait too long for an answer-”
“Han, I said I’d wait as long as it takes,” Minho cuts in gently. “Whatever you decide, I’ll
wait for you. I’m not going to pressure you into anything.”
“See, that’s just it though,” Jisung winces. “I can’t make up my mind. I can’t. There are pros
and cons on both ends and I can’t land on either side. I don’t want to break up with you but I
also don’t know if I can carry on a relationship knowing I’m not the only one you’re in love
with.”
Minho doesn’t say anything. He’s not sure if there’s anything he can say. He could deny it but
Jisung would know he’s lying.
“But,” Jisung sighs. “That’s...I mean...maybe I could.”

Minho glances at his cats peacefully sleeping around him and he feels like he can’t breathe.
He’s hanging onto Jisung’s every word and it feels unfair that he’s the one nearing a panic
attack when his cats are so peaceful.
“Maybe you could...what?” he pushes as gently as he can.
“Live with it,” Jisung says. “I mean yeah, let's acknowledge that you love Chan too. It’s there
but it doesn’t mean we have to talk about it. It doesn’t mean we have to think about it, it’s just
kind of….there.”
“Yes,” Minho nods and he’s suddenly very aware he’s tiptoeing around eggshells with this
topic. “And...I don’t know how much you’ll believe me when I say this but I want to be with
you, not him. My life is with you.”
There’s a moment of silence and in that moment, Minho worries he fucked it up and said too
much but then Jisung speaks.
“...and if you ever had to choose?”
It’s actually one of Minho’s worst fears. In any theoretical situation where he’d ever have to
choose between Chan and Jisung, it’s one of his worst fears. Because he knows that if in
some situation he’d have to choose one to die and one to live he’d rather shoot himself in the
head than face either one of those scenarios.
But the thing is, he can’t choose. He’s never going to have to. Chan made sure of that by
simply being who he is, no one has a chance with him. Not before he got married and not
after it either. Nothing can last with Chan. He told Minho that himself.
“I’d choose you,” he finally says. “Always.”
It’s the truth. Chan would never allow any other answer and in all honesty, neither would
Minho.
He hears a small sniffle on the other end and for a moment, he thinks Jisung is crying. He
might be. He’s seen how tired Jisung looks lately, it’s the same level of exhaustion as his
own. They never did do well without each other. Ever since they met, they’d been together
and this is the longest time they’ve been apart.
Neither of them are coping very well.
“Fuck,” Jisung whispers. “I can’t do this, Minho. I don’t know how I’ve survived this long. I
miss you so much it hurts, it physically hurts.”
Minho doesn’t even realise he’s crying until he feels the tears dripping onto his hand from his
jaw. But he’s not sad, he’s smiling, he feels giddy, this is the most progress he and Jisung
have made in months.
“I miss you too,” he chuckles a little through his tears. “I really miss you.”
“We need to talk, we need a face to face meet up tomorrow,” Jisung decides and the way his
breath hitches tells Minho he’s crying too. “Okay? Let’s just meet face to face and talk the
whole thing out.”
“Agreed,” Minho sniffles, his sleeve coming up to wipe his eyes. “Tomorrow.”
“For now,” Jisung begins, a little more hesitant than before. “I um...can we just...talk? Like
we used to? I can talk to you until you fall asleep.”
Minho rubs at his face until he’s sure it’s dry. He can’t help the smile on his face as he settles
back down onto his bed. Already he feels better, lighter than he has in months and it’s
because his relationship with Jisung isn’t over. After all of this, it isn’t over.
Jisung misses him just as much and just as badly as he’s missed Jisung.
“Facetime?”
“Facetime,” Jisung agrees and Minho feels warmer than he has in a very long time.
In the morning, after Chan sleeps on the armchair and Changbin and Felix take the couch
(none of them sleep well and they all wake up with aches and pains) Chan comes into the
bedroom to find Jisung sound asleep with his phone propped up by a few pillows. On the
screen is Minho’s sleeping face.
The scene is so peaceful that Chan doesn’t have the heart to end the call. Instead he leaves the
room as quietly as he’d entered it. Both Jisung and Minho fast asleep as if they were side by
side again.
Jeongin runs out of the apartment building still dressed in his night clothes. His phone is
already pressed to his ear as he glances up and down the street.
He’d woken up alone. Hyunjin’s side of the bed was cold and Jeongin had searched the
apartment but the other wasn’t there. He’d tried calling three times already but Hyunjin
wasn’t picking up and gut instinct told Jeongin everything: something was horribly wrong.
Sure, maybe other people might have logically thought that Hyunjin had just gone
somewhere at night and forgot to tell Jeongin but the problem with that theory is that Jeongin
now knows Hyunjin would never do that. It might not be unusual for Hyunjin to go for a
walk outside maybe but he’d come back, he’d always come back. He’d also answer his
phone.
Taking a random left, Jeongin calls Hyunjin’s phone again and keeps walking. His brain is
frazzled, he can’t think straight and all he keeps wondering is what went wrong. What
happened while he was sleeping and where is Hyunjin?
He makes it to the intersection just as the call cuts off again and Jeongin almost screams in
frustration. He looks around, panicked until his eyes land on an older man who seems to be
making his way towards him.
The smell of him hits Jeongin long before he comes anywhere near him. The man hasn’t seen
a shower in weeks, his hair is falling out, there’s holes in his jacket and boots but he comes
straight for Jeongin.
“You,” the man points. “Are you looking for the young man I saw last night?”
Jeongin blinks. “Young man?”
“Your age, tallish, long black hair? Kind of pretty?”
“Hyunjin,” Jeongin says. “Did you see him?”
“Last night, yeah,” the man nods. He points to the ground. “Saw him right here, real late at
night must have been around...two am? Maybe?”
“Where did he go?” Jeongin asks and he’s struggling to keep his panic at bay. This man talks
way too slowly for Jeongin’s liking.
“Well a van pulled up to the side,” the man explains, pointing to a skidmark on the street.
“Real fast. It pulled right up to him and these big men came running out. They grabbed the
kid and shoved him in the back, it was over in seconds.”
Jeongin’s eyes widen. “And...did you tell anyone? Did you try to find help?!”
“Well who’s gonna believe me?” the man chuckles, far too relaxed for the situation. “The
cops would turn me away in a heartbeat, they’d say I was on acid or something. For a second
there I thought I was tripping but look, he dropped his cigarette.”
Jeongin looks down and sure enough, there’s half a cigarette on the concrete. He grabs the
man before he can lean down to grab it.
“Don’t touch that,” he snaps as he drags the man to the park bench and sits him down. “Stay
there, I’m going to need you later.”
With his other hand, he’s already searching his contacts. He hits Chan’s name and keeps an
eye on the homeless man as he brings his phone to his ear.
“Chan,” he says the second the other answers. “We have a problem. Someone kidnapped
Hyunjin.”
There are already two police cars and four cops by the time Chan arrives. He has his phone
pressed to his ear as he steps out of the car and looks around the park area. Two cops are in
the middle of questioning the homeless man, an extra two questioning Jeongin and he’s still
dressed in his night clothes (which is really just grey track pants and one of Hyunjin’s
hoodies).
“I’m calling in a favour,” Chan is saying as he heads towards the park. “You owe me.”
The voice on the other end sighs. “I’d actually hoped you’d just forgotten.”
“Not a chance,” Chan grins. “Get me a sedative as fast as you can and a syringe. I need it
before the end of the day.”
“A syringe?”
“Don’t ask any questions, that’s not how we work and you know it. A sedative,” Chan says as
he approaches Jeongin. “By the end of the day.”
He cuts the call off and looks over Jeongin carefully. The other seems to be holding it
together rather well, he’s answering their questions and he seems calm until Chan looks down
at the way his hands are shaking and he realises that Jeongin is barely keeping it together.
“Excuse me officers,” Chan says, cutting in as he stands next to Jeongin and places a hand on
his shoulder. “Is there anything I can do to help this investigation along?”
“We were just in the middle of asking some questions about what happened last night,” one
of the officers answers with a wary look at Jeongin. “The witness,” he jabs his head towards
the homeless man who is still being questioned. “Doesn’t remember a hell of a lot because he
was on acid last night and he could have seen anything-”
“But there’s a cigarette butt right there,” Jeongin points out, frustrated as he points to the
street where sure enough, a lone half-smoked cigarette lies on the concrete. “If you DNA test
it or something-”
“This isn’t CSI, kid,” the other officer snorts. “We get a call about a possible kidnapping on
the word of someone on drugs. Forgive me if we’re not keen to take his word.”
“Then how do you explain my missing boyfriend?” Jeongin demands.
Chan sees the change the second that word leaves his mouth. The officers had been skeptical
and reluctant before but the second they hear the word ‘boyfriend’ their entire demeanour
changes. Suddenly they’re no longer looking at a concerned and possibly paranoid witness,
they’re looking at someone they want nothing to do with.
“Maybe he ran off to a gay bar?” one of the officers offers half-heartedly.
Jeongin’s face turns dark, his eyes turn cold and before he can curse the officer out, Chan
grabs him and pulls him behind himself.
“Look, officers,” he sighs. “It may turn out to be nothing but you have a civic duty to protect
the citizens of Busan, am I correct?”
“You don’t need to remind us of our duties, Mr Bang,” they sigh. “It’s just that our star
witness is unreliable.”
“Then take your information from security cameras, I see two over there,” Chan points down
the street where, sure enough, two cameras sit in wait, both pointing at the correct area where
Hyunjin was probably taken. “If nothing else, you should see something unusual on there and
if you do, take down a license plate. I assume I don’t have to tell you how to do your job.”
The officers glance at each other and Chan has to hold Jeongin back behind himself. He’s not
sure what would be worse, him telling the officers off or him letting Jeongin loose to do
whatever he wants to them.
“Need I remind you that one word from my father could get both of you fired,” Chan points
out and he hates pulling the ‘daddy’ card but it works every time because both officers
straighten at the threat.
“Yes, sir,” one of them says, albeit a little reluctantly. “We’ll check the feed.”
“I expect one of you to call me within one hour with results,” Chan reminds them with a nod
to their badges. “I have your numbers, I know where to look if you try and disappear on me.”
The officers nod and head off back to their car. When they’re gone, Chan takes a deep breath
and turns around to look at Jeongin. In his arms, Jeongin is still angry. He’s so angry he’s
shaking, he’s glaring at the backs of the officers as they walk away and it’s all Chan can do to
hold him back and make sure he doesn’t chase them down.
“Innie?”
Jeongin blinks and looks at him at last. He shrugs his hands off and takes a step back, as if he
needs the space to stop himself strangling Chan if he can’t get to the police.
“I woke up alone,” Jeongin explains. “Hyunjin never does that. I felt something off the
second I felt his side of the bed was cold and I ran out here and…”
“I know, I believe you,” Chan assures him. “But...the guy who witnessed him being
supposedly taken away is a homeless man who was apparently on drugs last night-”
“Doesn’t matter, what if he did see something?!” Jeongin snaps and he’s distressed. He keeps
running his fingers through his hair and pacing on the spot with restless angry energy. “But I
can’t figure out who would do that...who would dare? I know Hyunjin’s pissed off a lot of
people, we all have but who would…?”
“We’ll have answers soon,” Chan promises him. “I need you to leave this to me and in the
meantime, go home and get dressed.”
“No, I need to help,” Jeongin tells him. “I need to help look for him. What if the guys who
took him are really dangerous? What if-?”
“Innie, I need you to leave this with me,” Chan says, a little more firmly than before. “I will
find him and I will find out who took him but I need you somewhere safe-”
“You don’t have to fucking babysit me, I’m not a helpless kid!” Jeongin screams at him. “I
need to find him!”
Chan glances at the officers still questioning the homeless man and neither of them have
noticed Jeongin yet. He takes Jeongin’s wrist and pulls him out of the park and towards the
street before Jeongin can say something stupid that’ll get both of them arrested.
“Innie, this isn’t a suggestion, it’s an order,” Chan says in a low voice as he drags Jeongin
back to his apartment. “Get dressed and go to work. You’re safer there with the others. I will
find Hyunjin but I can do it a lot faster if I know all of you are in one place. If the guys who
snatched Hyunjin are looking for an opportunity to grab the rest of you, let’s not give them
that chance.”
“You want me to go to work?!” Jeongin chokes as they head in through the entrance and walk
towards the stairs. “You seriously want me to go to work whilst Hyunjin is god knows
where?!”
“I want you in a well lit area surrounded by other people and that’s the best place right now,”
Chan corrects him. “So get dressed and I’ll take you to God's Menu. Stay there until I call
you and for god's sake,” he pushes the door open and leads Jeongin inside. “Do not go out on
your own.”
He pushes Jeongin gently down the hall and points to the bedroom. “Get dressed, I’ll wait
here.”
Way back when Jisung and Minho first bought their own apartment, Jisung had always liked
the area. Haeundae-Gu was always his favourite place to go when he wanted to be alone. The
streets were stocked with so many shops and restaurants that sold imported goods. He could
taste dishes from the Philippines one day and switch to Italian the next without ever having to
leave the neighbourhood.
It’s a lively place, known for generally being foreigner-friendly and sometimes he just likes
to sit on a park bench and take in all the different languages being spoken around him. In the
rare times they were actually in the country, Jisung’s parents always raved on about the
wonders and sights of countries overseas. They’d sometimes come back with souvenirs,
pictures of things Jisung has never seen with his naked eyes but always dreamed of doing.
The pyramids of Egypt, the Great Wall of China, the outbacks of Australia, he wanted to see
them all.
When he went apartment hunting with Minho, it only made sense to settle here where he
could taste a bit of the world outside of Korea without leaving it.
Chan understood this curiosity, but Chan had actually been overseas and saw more than
Jisung ever had. Changbin understood it too but Minho was the only one who actually shared
this curiosity and jumped in for the apartment with no hesitation.
Walking down the familiar streets of where he used to live, Jisung can taste the morning air
as he walks past early morning joggers, people sitting on the outside chairs of cafes. The
sleepy neighbourhood is still in the process of waking up as Jisung walks through it with one
goal in mind.
He missed Minho. God he missed him. Last night they’d talked until they both fell asleep and
when he woke up to the sight of his dying phone showing him Minho still asleep on the other
end, he knew what he had to do.
He’d been hiding this whole time. Hiding away in his own apartment, angsting over his
broken relationship, trying to come to terms with what Minho was feeling but last night felt
like a balm over all of it.
They could do this. They could move past this. They didn’t need to talk about it, they didn’t
need to acknowledge it and Minho had told him last night. He’d choose him, he’d always
choose him.
That was enough for Jisung.
Heading into the apartment building, Jisung hops the stairs two at a time. His heart thunders
excitedly in his chest and he can’t wait to just come home. He’s missed the neighbourhood,
he’s missed the cats and he’s missed Minho.
As he hits his floor at last, he’s almost running for the door. He stops before it and knocks -
ordinarily he’d open the door with his own key but this still feels like Minho’s apartment.
He’s been gone so long, Minho has to be the one to tell him he’s allowed back in after this
long.
He hears footsteps, his heart leaps in his throat and when the door opens, the first thing he
sees is not Minho but a shirtless, tall Minjun halfway through a yawn. His sweatpants are
riding low on his hips and Jisung is so stunned for a few seconds that all he can do is stare as
Minjun leans against the doorframe and looks him up and down.
“Who are you?” Minjun asks.
“I…” Jisung stammers. He has to check the door but he knows this is definitely Minho’s
apartment. “Where’s Minho?”
“Sleeping,” Minjun answers with a small grin. “Poor baby, must have been wiped last night.”
Jisung found something with shock. When his world is crashing around his ears, he can’t
speak. He can’t move. All he can do is stare in disbelief. Last night while he was talking to
Minho, the other never mentioned that someone was in his apartment. Jisung distinctly
remembers not seeing much of Minho’s bed and oh god, was Minjun there the whole time?
He’s in so much shock, this is exactly what he’d been trying to avoid by staying away from
Minho so long. Minho almost destroyed him with his confession about Chan and Jisung
never wanted to feel that way again. Now he’s feeling it here and instead of screaming or
hitting Minjun like he wants to, he runs.
He bolts down the hallway and doesn’t look back at the small smile on Minjun’s face.
Minho wakes to the sound of the front door closing. Their apartment has rather thin walls and
when doors close, the walls sometimes rattle in response. He lifts his head from the pillow
and looks at the spot where he’d left his phone propped up against the bedside table. The
screen is black and his phone is dead….figures.
Yawning, he slowly pushes himself into a sitting position and rubs at his face.
Last night had been...nice. The talking to Jisung bit anyway. Not so much the being chased by
god knows what and having to put up with a gangster sleeping in his living room. Last night
he and Jisung had just talked about anything and everything that came to their minds. The
way they used to when neither of them wanted to sleep.
It was just...nice. Talking to him like that again. Felt like it did before.
A knock on his door wakes some of his cats. They twitch in response as Minjun’s voice
carries from the living room.
“Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty. Morning’s here and we’re still alive.”
Minho groans. He’s going to have to charge his phone at the restaurant, he doesn’t have time
to charge it now. He pushes himself out of bed and grabs his uniform before letting himself
out of his room to head for the bathroom.
Minjun is in the process of folding the blankets as Minho heads out.
“Morning!” Minjun chirps. “Sleep well?”
All Minho can handle is a grunt and Minjun laughs.
“Well the good news is whoever attacked you last night probably doesn’t know where you
live. Or at least didn’t have the balls to attack again. The bad news is I still don’t have a clue
who it was so at least let me give you a ride to work to make sure you’re safe.”
Minho grunts again and grabs a towel. He’s too tired to muster a verbal response. He heads
into the bathroom and closes the door to Minjun’s laughter.
True to his word, Minjun waits for Minho to get ready and he takes him to work. God’s Menu
isn’t open yet as Minho steps towards the doors and turns to look at Minjun.
The other had done exactly what he said, nothing more. He’d protected him, kept him
company and it seems to have worked considering no one else tried attacking him today. Still,
Minho can’t help but feel uneasy about the whole thing.
“I have a few ideas about who could be trying to kill you,” Minjun says. “Give me a day or
so and I can track them down.”
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on but I don’t want you hanging around me all the time,”
Minho sighs. “Thank you for looking after me last night but I don’t want to make this a habit.
I can make my own enquiries and find out who it was. You’ve already put yourself out on my
behalf.”
Minjun laughs. “I’m not doing this to get in your pants, baby. As I said last night, Wolgang
Pa is connected to God’s Menu, by extension that means you.”
“Like you haven’t been looking at my ass every time I turn around,” Minho says, narrowing
his eyes.
“That I will admit to,” Minjun beams. “I’m a straightforward kind of guy. When I want
something, I’m pretty obvious about it.”
“Well I’m not interested,” Minho frowns. “Thank you for last night but I’ll be fine from here
on out.”
Last night he’d been frazzled, bruised and for some reason everything Minjun was saying had
made sense. Now in the light of day, Minho doesn’t want a repeat of last night. He doesn’t
want to have to rely on this gangster to keep him safe.
“If you say so,” Minjun shrugs. “But do me a favour and stop walking by yourself at night.
It’s stupid even for people who don’t have targets on their backs.”
Minho blinks, he doesn’t know what to say to that. He turns on his heel and starts walking
towards the restaurant. He can feel Minjun’s burning eyes on his back the entire time.
There’s something hard looped around Hyunjin’s wrists behind his back. He’s been sitting on
the same chair for hours, a blindfold over his eyes and every now and then he can hear the
voices of the men who’d taken him.
They don’t sound intelligent. In fact if anything they seem to be keen on living up to the
reputation of the dumb henchman who has all muscle but no brains. He’s counted four of
them since he was brought in here and without the use of his eyes, he’s had to rely solely on
his hearing.
At best he can guess, he’s in a small enough room with a single chair and a door. There’s
something dripping nearby and Hyunjin has spent the last few hours wondering how many
kidnapping mob stereotypes these guys are planning on hitting.
Dumb henchmen...check. Damp room with possible dripping pipe...check.
All they need now is some sort of boss figure and he’ll have the same kidnapping scene from
every single mob movie since the 1950’s.
His legs are numb when he hears the door open with a squeak and a new pair of shoes enter.
The henchmen had big clunky boots that seemed to echo on the concrete floor. These shoes
click, Hyunjin’s senses hone in on the sound and he imagines these shoes are polished.
“Boss,” one of the men says.
Ah. Stereotype #3 covered. Boss figure.
“He’s been quiet all night,” another voice says. “Kind of creeping me out actually. Usually
these types scream and go on about how they’ll sue and call the police.”
“Except we’re not dealing with a normal killer,” the new voice, presumably the boss, says.
Scent of cigarettes. Ahh yes, they’re hitting all the stereotypes, Hollywood would love them.
The blindfold is ripped off and Hyunjin’s vision blurs for a moment before it focuses. He’s in
a dark, damp room with a single window. Standing before him are three men. Two burly and
tall standing near the single door and another standing in front of him that looks rather
familiar.
“You,” Hyunjin narrows his eyes. “You’re the prick that was hitting on Minho.”
“Choi Minjun, at your service,” Minjun grins at him. “And I already know all about you.
You’re kind of famous.”
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, he watches the way Minjun takes a slow drag of the cigarette in
his fingers and steps back. Hyunjin notes the tattoos, the gang symbols etched into his skin,
the way his hair is tied back into a ponytail and he shakes his head.
“You’re such a fucking cliche.”
Minjun’s eyebrow rises and he tilts his head. “A cliche?”
“Are all gangsters as dry, cut and paste as you?” Hyunjin drawls boredly. “I mean for fucks
sake I hated The Godfather when I first saw it, never thought I’d be living its sequel. At least
be an interesting mobster, I’m about to be killed by Al Pacino and already I’m fucking
bored.”
There’s a moment of silence. Minjun stares and the men behind him don’t seem to know what
to make of that comment.
Finally, Minjun chuckles. He tosses his cigarette aside and pokes Hyunjin in the chest.
“A talker, I like a talker,” he giggles. “You have no idea why you’re here, do you?”
“Do me a favour and shoot me in the head. I don’t wanna have to sit through your
monologue,” Hyunjin drawls.
“See, you were wearing a Shrek mask so most people didn’t recognise you but I’m good at
finding people,” Minjun explains. “I saw the video. Beauty to watch. You killed my
sajangnim and his son with the prowess of a serial killer incapable of remorse.”
“Fucks sake, get on with it,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “So what of it? You here for revenge?”
“Naturally,” Minjun smirks. “I was loyal to that man and to his son as well. The one I wasn’t
loyal to is his asswipe of a weakling sitting his ass on that throne now. It’s a pity my little
brother is so in love with him but I’m sure I can find a way to surgically remove them.”
“You’re boring me,” Hyunjin says. “So what are you going to do now that you’ve found the
man responsible for killing your precious bosses? String me up from the highest tree? Throw
me off the tallest building?”
“I’m kinder than that,” Minjun decides. “Wolgang Pa has a long and proud history of disputes
being settled by brute strength which is how our previous sajangnim stayed in power so long.
No one dared go against him and that’s how it’s meant to be.”
Hyunjin stares at him, for once offering no commentary.
“Since you killed our former leaders, it’s only fitting that you prove your mettle the only way
that counts in Wolgang Pa,” Minjun says as the henchmen approach Hyunjin’s chair. “Win
and I’ll let you live. Lose and I won’t lose any sleep over it.”
Hyunjin blinks. He doesn’t believe a word this man says of course but at the promise of
living, the only thing that appears in his mind is Jeongin. He sees his face in his mind so
clearly and he’s suddenly filled with need.
A need to go back to him, a need to get out of here and find Jeongin.
Shit, when did he become so dependent on him?
Something hits him in the back of the head hard enough to knock him out cold and Jeongin’s
face is the last thing he thinks of.
By the time most of the staff arrive for their shift, they’re very much aware of what happened
to Hyunjin. Felix and Seungmin exchange wary glances as Jeongin paces the kitchen
restlessly.
Chan had told them all what happened and warned them to keep a close eye on Jeongin.
Easier said than done.
“Innie,” Felix says, carefully approaching Jeongin as the other paces around. “Do you wanna
sit? You should sit, it might help you calm down.”
“I don’t want to sit,” Jeongin snaps. “I want to be out there looking for him, I want to find the
fuckers who did this. I want to wring their fucking throats.”
Felix glances at Seungmin who shakes his head. They’re not going to get any work done
today. Jeongin is not in any fit state of mind to do anything and not only is Hyunjin not in the
restaurant but Jisung didn’t come in either. He’d called in sick and Changbin is out on the
floor to cover him but even with him, they’re short staffed. Minho and Changbin have to
handle orders and serving.
“Chan will find them,” Felix tries. “He’ll find Hyunjin. Just please, you really need to calm
down-”
“Felix, stop telling me to calm down!” Jeongin snaps at him. “What if it was Changbin, huh?
Would you be so calm then? What am I even doing here?!”
“You’re here so you’re safe and you don’t get in the way,” Seungmin points out from where
he stands in his corner. He makes no attempt to come any closer but his entire attention is on
Jeongin. “If anyone is going to find Hyunjin, it’ll be Chan. He has all the resources available
to him, you don’t.”
It’s cold but logical enough that it seems to do the trick because Jeongin stops pacing and
takes a deep breath. Felix carefully rests his hands on Jeongin’s shoulders, as if to physically
stop him pacing again.
“Innie, pull yourself together,” Seungmin says. “I know it’s hard when we don’t know what
happened to Hyunjin but you’ll do no one any favours by panicking. The best person to find
out what happened and where he is, is Chan. In the meantime, either sit down and calm
yourself down or try to work because we’re already down two people, we can’t be down
three.”
Felix can feel Jeongin shaking. He watches him, notes the way Jeongin’s eyes waver. He
can’t tell if Jeongin is about to burst into tears or run out to do something stupid. If it were
Changbin, Felix wouldn’t be calm. He knows this already.
He wouldn’t be able to work, he’d be beside himself with worry and he’d want to help in any
way he could. Staying at home or staying in the restaurant would drive him insane so he does
understand Jeongin.
But for better or worse, the best place for Jeongin right now is here because he can’t be
trusted at home alone and he’ll get in the way if he tries to help Chan. That and if someone
took Hyunjin, what’s to stop them from coming after the rest of them? Did Hyunjin piss
someone off or are they after all the staff at Gods’ Menu?
The first order comes through and Jeongin moves to his station. He starts in on the vegetables
and as he does, Felix exchanges a careful glance with Seungmin.
Half their job today is going to be making sure Jeongin stays sane. He seems okay now but
neither of them are willing to take their eyes off him. Especially after what happened the last
time something happened to Hyunjin.
At least if the roles were reversed and Jeongin was the one who went missing, they’d know
what to expect from Hyunjin. They’d get anger, they’d get violence, Hyunjin wouldn’t hold
anything back but at least they’d be able to read him. But Jeongin isn’t so easy to read, he’s
not as predictable and it puts them all on edge.
Jeongin bites his lip, his hands shake as he starts chopping the vegetables and Felix stays
close.
It’s like working near a ticking time bomb.
Out on the floor, Minho is worried. It’s very rare that Jisung calls in sick and Changbin seems
to know a little more about it but he’s not talking.
“He just needs space,” Changbin had said before the morning rush came in.
Space. They’re back to that again. Minho thought last night had gone rather well, they’d
talked so long it was like they used to be. When he and Jisung weren’t fucking each other’s
brains out (which they liked to do a lot) they talked and they talked about everything. Jisung
is one of the few people Minho knows who just...gets him.
They can talk for hours and hours and never get bored. There are no awkward silences
between them and last night had been just like before.
So in between that and this morning, what changed? Was it too much? Did Jisung realise he
wasn’t ready for it after all?
He wants to call Jisung and ask if he’s alright and at the same time, he wants to give him
space. The last thing he wants to do is crowd him with questions, pressure him into
something he’s not ready for. It’s been months and Minho has spent that entire time waiting
for Jisung to make up his mind.
Keep them together or cut the string entirely. They’re back to that again and it’s wholly
frustrating but it’s all Minho can do not to text him and ask him.
At the same time, he feels bad. He should be more worried about Hyunjin and Jeongin. He
knows Hyunjin wouldn’t have run off on his own, not after he’s spent the last few months
being so obviously besotted with Jeongin. If he did run off, he’d have taken Jeongin with
him.
But then where did he go? Who took him? Minho can guess Hyunjin has pissed off a lot of
people in the past but which one took him last night?
He checks through the window to see Jeongin working away at the bench. One quick glance
and it looks like nothing’s wrong, he’s working just as he always does. It’s only when one
looks closer that they realise Jeongin’s hand is shaking, his eyes are far away and he’s not
cutting the vegetables as straight as he normally does.
“Minho.”
He turns to see Changbin approaching him with an empty tray under his arm. For now, the
tables of morning customers seem to be content so it seems safe enough to talk. Minho turns
away from the window and faces Changbin properly.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” Changbin frowns. “I just feel...a bit off. This thing with Hyunjin has me thinking we
should be looking at Wolgang Pa.”
Minho motions subtly with his hand for Changbin to lower his voice and the other nods.
When he’s sure no one heard him, Minho leans in a bit.
“What makes you think that?” he asks. “Aren’t you keeping an eye on their leader?”
“Wooyoung can’t see everything where he is,” Changbin points out. “There’s still a lot of
people in Wolgang Pa who would shoot him in the head if they ever had the opportunity.”
“Okay,” Minho frowns. “But what makes you think they’d have anything to do with
Hyunjin?”
“Hyunjin is the one who killed the former leader,” Changbin points out. “Granted, he did it
whilst wearing a mask but anyone with a brain can connect Wooyoung’s sudden elevation to
the connection with this restaurant. All it would take is one eagle-eyed person to connect the
dots and recognise Hyunjin somehow.”
Minho remembers the night they’d helped Wooyoung take over Wolgang Pa. He’d gone with
Jisung to the docks and Seungmin had been with Hyunjin. Hyunjin had gone out in an all out
bloodbath despite specific orders to make it clean and quick. In such a state, it’s possible he
made a mistake.
“You should probably tell Chan that,” Minho says and Changbin nods in agreement.
“I’ll send a message now. The thought just occurred to me while I was thinking about-”
Changbin stops right there. He pales and Minho catches the look on his face.
He narrows his eyes. “Thinking about what?”
“Nothing.”
“Bin.”
“I have to get back to work,” Changbin announces, hurriedly pushing past Minho to get to the
window. “Hey Seungmin, where’s the order for number four?”
“Gimme a damn minute!” Seungmin calls back.
Minho stomps after Changbin and takes his arm to turn him around. He leans in and he can’t
help but notice there’s this thing Changbin does when he’s cornered and doesn’t want to talk.
He averts his eyes, looks down on the floor like a scolded child and it would be alarmingly
cute if Minho didn’t have the sneaking suspicion this has something to do with Jisung.
“Talk to me,” he demands. “What were you thinking about?”
“Everything,” Changbin attempts to lie. “Life…”
“Bin!”
“Alright, alright,” Changbin winces. “It just occurred to me that Wolgang Pa might have
something to do with this when I thought about what Han saw this morning.”
Something in Minho’s stomach is threatening to drop in horror.
“And what did Han see this morning?” he presses.
Changbin looks like he’s one second away from whimpering. Or whining. He keeps averting
his eyes but the answer comes out anyway.
“Han went around to yours this morning,” he says, reluctant even in his tone. “He said he saw
that guy in your apartment.”
Oh god no.
“Hyung, if you’re moving on from Han then that’s not my business but maybe you should
have told Han that,” Changbin says. “And I’d be careful if I were you, that guy is Wolgang
Pa and he really can’t be trusted.”
“He saw Choi Minjun in my apartment,” Minho says just for clarification.
Changbin nods. “Shirtless.”
That fucking asshole.
“Goddammit,” Minho sighs as he finally lets Changbin’s arm go. “No wonder he didn’t come
in today.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty broken up about it,” Changbin mutters quietly. “The only reason I know is
because I caught him as he was coming back in. He was so shaken up he could barely speak.”
“I’m not sleeping with Choi Minjun,” Minho says. “I’m not moving on from Han, Han just
saw the wrong thing.”
Changbin frowns, confusion on his face and Minho can’t blame him. It’s a long tale to tell.
“Umm...hyung how is Choi Minjun shirtless in your apartment supposed to be a

misunderstanding?”
“Because-”
“Order up,” Seungmin announces, laying a plate down on the tray before he disappears again
into the kitchen.
Minho sighs. He’s going to have to clean this up, sooner rather than later because he knows
what Jisung gets like if he’s left alone with his thoughts too long.
“You do this,” Minho says, pointing to the food as he pulls his phone out. “I’ll fix Han.”
In the kitchen, Jeongin is spaced out. His hands by now are running on autopilot. Cutting
vegetables without really focussing. All he can think about is Hyunjin, who might have him
now, what they’re doing to him.
It’s not until he feels a sharp pain in his thumb that he looks down and realises he’d cut
himself again.
“Sink, sink!” Felix orders, pointing wildly at the sink. “Before you bleed all over the
vegetables!”
Jeongin blinks, he can see blood ebbing from the cut and it’s not a big cut. A nick at best. He
turns around and he’s just stuck his hand under the running tap when he’s struck with a wave
of deja-vu.
Hyunjin had held his wrist once when he’d cut himself here. He’d held his hand under the
water and Jeongin remembers helplessly staring at him. Even back then, when he had hopes
of finding evidence and going back to his father, when he was suspicious of everyone, when
he didn’t know what was really going on down in the freezer, he was into Hyunjin.
Oh god where is he?
“Innie?”
Jeongin looks up and he expects to see Felix. It sounded like Felix. But when he lifts his
gaze, the person standing next to him isn’t Felix, it’s Hyunjin. Hyunjin holding his wrist
down under the water just like he did back then, Hyunjin watching him with a telling smile
on his face.
“Be more careful, Innie.”

Jeongin blinks and he’s gone. He pulls his hand out of the water and turns around, eyes
flitting wildly about as he looks around the kitchen. He’s certain he’d seen him.
“Innie?” Felix says, watching him from the other side of the bench. “You okay?”
“Where is he?” Jeongin asks, his head still whipping left and right as if Hyunjin will just turn
up somewhere. “I just saw him.”
“Just saw who?”
“Hyunjin!” Jeongin says with a slightly raised voice. “Where’d he go?!”
He misses the way Felix and Seungmin exchange glances, as if they’d guessed this might
happen but hoped it wouldn’t.
“Innie, Hyunjin isn’t here,” Seungmin begins. “Remember? Someone took him last night.”
“I JUST saw him!” Jeongin insists. “Just now! Where is he?!”
“Innie, Hyunjin isn’t here,” Felix tries, his hands out as though he’s afraid Jeongin is about to
go ballistic on them. “Hyunjin isn’t here. I need you to-”
“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!” Jeongin screams at him. “Stop telling me to calm
down!”
“Innie, please!” Felix begs and he knows Jeongin was loud enough that the customers on the
floor can hear him. This is exactly what they’d been trying to avoid and maybe it would have
been better if Jeongin had just stayed home.
Except they couldn’t take the risk that whoever took Hyunjin wouldn’t come back for
Jeongin too.
Minho comes in through the doors and makes a beeline for Jeongin. In response, Jeongin
skitters back until his back hits the freezer door.
“Innie, come with me,” Minho says as gently as he can. “We can talk in the office-”
“I DON’T WANT TO TALK, WHERE IS HYUNJIN!!” Jeongin shrieks with his hands out.
“DON’T TOUCH ME! I’M NOT SEEING THINGS, I’M NOT HALLUCINATING.
WHERE IS HYUNJIN!”
“Innie calm down!” Seungmin tries.
Felix watches them helplessly. The way Jeongin is reacting, with his hands out, cowering
away from anyone who gets too close to him, it reminds him of a wounded animal. One who
is too scared to see that the people surrounding it are trying to help.
As it is, Minho has his hands up, trying to show Jeongin he means no harm even as he
approaches him slowly.
“I’m not saying you’re seeing things,” Minho assures him. “But let’s take this outside where
people can’t hear you, okay?”
He gets too close, his hand reaches out and Jeongin slaps it off.
“Don’t touch me!” he screams and Felix isn’t sure he’s even on the land of the sane anymore.
He’s shaking and there’s nothing in his eyes, Jeongin is just gone and he’s reacting to
everything that gets too close. No thought pattern, just reacting.
“I’m not crazy!” Jeongin pants. “I’m not crazy! I’m not seeing things!”
“We never said you were,” Minho tries to assure him. “Innie, please, let me help.”
“No! Don’t touch me!”
For once, Seungmin looks lost. Minho looks like he’s about to resort to physically
manhandling Jeongin out of the restaurant and Felix doesn’t know what to do.
In the next moment, four things happen in very quick succession.
1. Minho reaches forward and grabs Jeongin’s arm.
2. Jeongin shrieks and kicks him off with surprising strength.
3. Jeongin dashes past him and makes a run for the back door.
4. Chan comes in through the back door, grabs him, turns him around and sticks a needle in
his neck.
By the time Felix, Seungmin and Minho register what’s happening, Jeongin has already
passed out in Chan’s arms. His entire body limp, his eyes closed and body bowed like a
ragdoll in Chan’s grip.
Chan hitches Jeongin’s body up and throws him over his shoulder.
“I found Hyunjin.” he announces. “Someone take Innie back to mine and tie him to the bed if
you have to. We need to get Hyunjin before someone kills him.”
Hyunjin wakes to the chaotic sound of hundreds of men and women shouting in the next
room. As he comes to, he’s vaguely aware that he’s still tied to a chair but the scenery has
changed. No longer is he in a dark, damp room but instead this one is a little brighter.
Looks kind of like a changing room, complete with the bench and a few lockers at the end.
Every now and then, he can hear a sound that he can only recognise as blunt force.
Something hard hitting soft skin and it’s followed by loud cheering and booing.
A fighting ring?
He’s still groggy when the door opens and a man he hasn’t seen before appears.
“Good, you’re up,” the man says as he comes up to crouch in front of Hyunjin. “Good
timing. You’re next.”
Hyunjin is still fighting white spots in his eyes as he tries to glare at him.
“Where the fuck am I?”
“Wolgang Pa Headquarters,” the man announces proudly. “One of ‘em anyway. Sajangnim
doesn’t control all of it, some of it we have a little fun.”
Hyunjin’s not sure he wants to understand. He’s barely keeping himself awake, the damage to
his head still making itself known by throbbing at the back and he wouldn’t be surprised if
he’s concussed.
“I’ll make you a deal,” the man says, still watching Hyunjin with interest. “You survive this
and I will set you free.”
“And I’m supposed to...what? Believe you?” Hyunjin snorts. “Out of the goodness of my
naivete?”
“Well you don’t really have a choice either way,” the man shrugs. “Wolgang Pa honours old
rules. You killed our leader, we have a right to test your strength. If you can best us, then
we’ll let you go.”
Hyunjin’s sight keeps wavering in and out and it’s not good. He’s starting to understand they
mean to put him through a trial, probably one of those fight to the death deals and he’s at a
severe disadvantage with his concussion. It’s all he can do to fight to stay awake, fight for his
vision to stay steady.
He takes deep breaths, already his stomach is lurching with impending illness and it’s all he
can do not to throw up.
He wants to get back to Jeongin.
“Old rules,” he chuckles quietly and looks at the man in front of him. “If you follow the old
rules, doesn’t that mean I became your leader the second I killed your old one?”
“Technically yes but there is someone already seated at the throne,” the man points out. “Plus
you did kind of kill the last sajangnim whilst he was tied to a chair and missing an eyeball so
be thankful we’re not doing the same to you. A fair fight, you won’t be tied down at all.”
No, he’ll just be concussed.
There’s a loud booming cheer in the next room and the man takes that as his cue to get up
again.
“Looks like someone won,” he says as he comes around the chair and leans down to start at
the zip tie around Hyunjin’s wrists. “Now there are no rules. This game gets bloody so do
whatever you can to survive. That’s the rules.”
Hyunjin’s wrists burn as the zip tie is removed. He brings his arms back to his front and rubs
tenderly at the red mark on his wrists. As he rises from his chair, he notes his legs are still a
little shaky and grits his teeth.
“No rules?”
“No rules,” the man says as he comes around to stand in front of him. “Well...no guns but
that’s just because it’ll take the fun out of it if people just shoot each other-”
Hyunjin is fast. He picks the chair up and swings it around so hard the man has absolutely no
chance to block him. The seat and legs slam hard into his side, throwing him right off his feet
and sending him sprawling to the floor.
In the precious few seconds that the man is disoriented, Hyunjin holds the chair by its back
and slams it down onto the man’s head. He hears the other yelp and throws the chair aside
before the man can attempt to grab it. The other is barely conscious and bleeding from his
ears when Hyunjin slams his shoe into his middle, making him keel over and wheeze
breathlessly.
Hyunjin aims the next kick at his forehead. The tip of his shoe makes a dull sound when it
hits the man’s forehead and sends him reeling back. Hyunjin doesn’t pause, he doesn’t
breathe, he just stomps hard on the head until he hears something crack.
The sounds in the next room are still there. Hyunjin is pretty sure the man is dead as he leans
down to pick through his pockets.
Two coins. A switchblade knife and a key.
Pocketing them, Hyunjin looks around and there’s only one door. If he’s lucky, he’ll be able
to get out of here without having to fight anyone - especially when he’s in no fit state to do it.
If he’s not lucky...well then it’s just as well he has a switchblade now.
Heading for the door, Hyunjin checks the room once more before opening it and letting
himself out.
That’s when he realises the deafening sound is right above him as he walks right into a
gymnasium. A wide, open space of wooden floor with so many bloodstains seeped into the
wood it’s almost completely covered. There’s a second floor landing with people, so many
people leaning over the railing, watching him with eager eyes and they’re all Wolgang.
But what draws Hyunjin’s attention is the large man on the other side of the room whose eyes
are set on him and him alone.
“Round one!” someone calls and Hyunjin grits his teeth.
“Fuck.”
With a roar, his opponent thunders towards him. Every step echoes with a relentless THUMP,
THUMP, THUMP. The crowds scream and cheer as Hyunjin barely jumps out of the way. His
legs waver and he has to force himself to steady.
Stay on your feet. Stay on your feet. You fall, you’re dead.
The switchblade is out and in his hand as he faces his opponent. The man is large, bald, he
reminds Hyunjin of a troll. The only problem is he’s big and he’s fast. One punch and
Hyunjin will be out for the count.
A large fist comes swinging for his head. Hyunjin ducks in time and rolls himself out of the
way. On his way past a large ankle, the knife in his hand slits easily across a heel and he
hears the man roar in pain.
He scrambles up onto his feet again and runs, barely avoiding a swinging arm as the man
starts to bleed all over the floor. When Hyunjin turns around, he sees the man limping.
Good.
The man charges for him again. Hyunjin manages to dodge the first three times, he’s still a
little faster but not by much. It’s on the fourth that Hyunjin’s vision wavers at the worst
possible time and when he comes to, a big fat hand is already around his throat.
Hyunjin is lifted off his feet, his back slams into the wall, the blade falls from his hand and he
can barely hear the screaming approval of the onlooking crowd as his opponent pins him to
the wall and squeezes so hard Hyunjin’s eyes start to turn red.
He can’t breathe. He can’t even gasp. His legs kick but the man isn’t letting him go.
His vision starts to waver again, turning black at the edges. He can’t even hear himself
squeaking for air.
It’s in a last minute bid for a fight that he thinks to spit at the man. Miraculously, it lands in
his eye and in his stunned shock, he lets Hyunjin go. Hyunjin tumbles to the floor, oxygen
rapidly filling his lungs as he gasps. His vision is still blurred, his breaths laboured but he’s
reacting on pure survival instinct when his hand blindly shoots out onto the floor and feels
around until he picks up the blade again.
It feels like too long. The man will slam his head and that’ll be it, he’ll be done for. Hyunjin
can’t tell time, he can’t tell where this man is, all he can see is a big blur in front of him but
that’s where he thrusts his arm out.
The blade hits something soft. Something warm spurts onto his face. He hears the crowds
roar as he pulls the blade out and slams it in again. Then again and again until the opponent
falls with a loud crash.
Hyunjin is still gasping, still shaking hard but he crawls forward blindly. His hands feel along
open skin, open wounds and he can hear the laboured breathing of the man beneath him. He
must have hit something major to stop the man coming after him, even now when he’s
leaning over him, the man doesn’t fight back which tells Hyunjin he must have hit something
hard.
He finds a throat and makes quick work of sliding his knife blindly along skin until he’s sure
his hands are covered in warm blood.
Falling back onto his ass, Hyunjin’s vision starts to clear. He tries to steady his breathing,
willing his lungs to function normally as his vision clears and he can see the man lying on the
floor in front of him. Several stab wounds right in his chest and the last opened his throat.
Sound comes back to him with the howls and cheers of the audience above.
Then someone shouts: “Round two!”
There’s a set of double doors right at the back of the gym. Opposite the door Hyunjin had just
come out of. Through these double doors, a second opponent walks forward and Hyunjin
wills his legs to stay steady as he pushes himself back up onto his feet.
This second opponent is an older man. He’s stocky in build but rigged with hard lines of
muscle. Veins stick out at his neck, he’s covered head to toe in various tattoos and he’s
wearing nothing but a pair of black shorts.
The black edges of Hyunjin’s vision clear up just in time to see the man rushing towards him
with a pole in his hand. He swings and Hyunjin just barely manages to dodge by jumping
back. When he swings again, Hyunjin’s free hand grabs the pole before it can reach his head.
Using his grip on the pole, his left foot shoots out to kick the man in the chest. It sends him
flying back and Hyunjin keeps the pole in his hand as the man lands flat on his back.
Hyunjin doesn’t take a breath. Swinging the pole in his hand, he pockets the knife and uses
both hands to bring the pole flying down onto the body before him. The thick metal of the
pole echoes when it hits the skull and the crowd above get louder as Hyunjin brings the pole
up and slams it down again.
Then again and again until the skull caves in. Blood seeps onto the floor, the man’s face is no
longer recognisable and all he is now is a body with a mashed head. Hyunjin is panting and
covered in blood, so intent on destroying his opponent with the pole that he barely hears the
voice announce “Round three!”
His third opponent grabs the pole before he even realises he was there. Hyunjin looks up to
see a much larger man ripping the pole out of his hand and instead of hitting Hyunjin with it,
he throws it aside.
“Real men use their fists,” he announces in a booming voice before a large fist, fit with rings,
slams into Hyunjin’s face and sends him flying back so far it seems like he’s in the air for
quite some time before his back finally collides with the floor.
His vision is out right away, everything goes black and he can’t hear the screaming of the
crowd. He knows he’s still conscious, he can hear everything. The fall winded him and he
can’t get up again.
Get up, get up he’s screaming in his head. Get up!
“Hyunjin!!” Chan’s voice cuts in through the muffled screams of the crowd. “Hyunjin get
up!”
Hyunjin’s body isn’t cooperating. Someone picks him up and Hyunjin’s body is limp, his
vision slowly coming back in spots and blurs. He’s just barely coherent enough to recognise
that the opponent is holding his body up above his head like a ragdoll before he throws him,
literally throws him, to the other side of the gym.
“Hyunjin, fight back!” Changbin’s voice screams through the crowd. “Get up!”
Hyunjin turns his head. Somehow through the blur, through the watery view of the blobs in
the crowd overhead, he can see them. Familiar faces standing amongst the crowd staring
down at him, each with a mixed expression of horror and determination.
Chan, Changbin, Seungmin and Minho.
“Hyunjin, get up!” Seungmin is screaming. “Get up!”
He can hear the quick, loud footsteps of his opponent and manages to get his body to roll out
of the way of a stomp that might have caved his skull in. Hyunjin pushes himself back up
onto his feet but he can’t steady himself now, he turns and his vision keeps coming in and out
as he tries to focus on his opponent.
He has a blade in his pocket but it won’t do him any good if he can’t see where he’s going.
The last thing he needs is this man to either throw it away or use it on him. One miss and
that’s all it would take.
He can’t dodge the fist that hits his chest. His lungs expel all the air in them and Hyunjin
barely manages to keep himself up. His hands are blindly trying to grab but he can’t find the
man in front of him when another hit to his side knocks him back down onto the floor.
His vision blacks out for a few seconds. When it clears again, he sees his opponent towering
over him. The man blocks out the light, he blocks out the sight of the audience and Hyunjin
turns his head to the side to see his opponent’s feet right next to his head.
“Real men use their fists,” his opponent taunts him. “Real men use their feet.”
Hyunjin’s hands shoot out and grab a leg. The man would have kicked him off if he didn’t
then wrap both arms around the leg and curl his body around it the same way a child would
try to stop a parent from walking by hugging a leg and sitting on the foot.
His opponent wavers, momentary confusion is his fatal mistake when Hyunjin’s hand reaches
into his pocket, pulls out the knife and tears at a calf muscle. There’s a sound of shared pain
amongst the audience, blurred with his opponent's shriek as he struggles to kick Hyunjin off.
Hyunjin is grabbed. Big hands grab his shoulders and rip him off the leg but not before he
manages to stick the blade into the other leg as well.
Both men end up sprawled on the floor, one possibly in more pain than the other as he tries to
lean down to take the knife out of his leg.
On the floor, Hyunjin is winded again. There are little white spots flashing before him and he
can just hear the audience roaring. Somehow Chan is louder than even them, screaming at
Hyunjin to ‘get up, get up, get up!’
His opponent throws the knife away. His breathing ragged and he can’t seem to stand. He’s
sitting on the floor, eyes narrowed in angry slits as he stares at Hyunjin.
“Real men…”
There’s a sound, quiet but unmistakable. Hyunjin watches his opponent fall back and it’s not
until he recognises the open wound in his head that he realises someone shot him. He looks
up in time to see Minho putting something down and turning to Chan. He shouts something
but Hyunjin can’t hear them.
What he does hear is the outraged roar of the crowd and the cheers from those who don’t care
that it wasn’t Hyunjin who killed the man. They’re there for blood, not to pick a winning
horse.
“Final round!”
Hyunjin has to force himself up onto his feet. He looks up to see Chan, Minho and Changbin
working their way through the crowd. Presumably to find an exit. Seungmin is the only one
still standing there amongst the bloodthirsty onlookers and for a second, Hyunjin thinks he
sees something familiar in Seungmin’s otherwise stoic expression.
Worry.
“Hyunjin, look out!” Seungmin screams.

Hyunjin looks just in time to see a blur of what appears to be long black ragged hair and
hands rushing for him. He dodges just in time, launching himself forwards and out of the way
of his opponent whom he can only describe as an animal.
He’s scrawny, underfed and starved. He looks like he’s been kept in a cold, dark basement for
months. His hair is long and scraggly, his eyes are wild and bloodshot. Hyunjin looks down
his bony arm to see the telltale red track marks all over his veins. His nails are too long and
too sharp.
He’s an animal.
He rushes for Hyunjin again and this time, Hyunjin isn’t fast enough. Sharp pain flares from
his back when his opponent scratches him. He stumbles forward, his coordination unsteady
as his opponent rushes up to him and grabs him from behind.
He smells awful. Body stench practically oozing from him as he wraps his arms around
Hyunjin, pinning his arms down so he can’t use them. Sharp nails dig into his chest, causing
little red spots of blood to bloom on his shirt.
Hyunjin grits his teeth. He yanks his head forward and slams it back, startling his opponent
enough to make him let go. He then spins on his heel, grabs the man behind him and he
doesn’t think at all. His mind blanks. He doesn’t have a knife, he doesn’t have a pole and he
doesn’t have long nails but his head surges forward, teeth bared and he bites the neck of his
opponent.
He bites hard, sinking his teeth in until he can taste blood. The man in his grip flails, pointy
sharp nails trying to claw him off but he clenches his jaw harder until he hears a gasp.
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Chan coming in through the doors and running for
him.
Hyunjin keeps his teeth down when he yanks his head to the side as hard as he can. His teeth
rip the throat open and blood spills between them both. Hyunjin is covered head to toe,
there’s a long strip of thick skin in his mouth and he barely sees Chan’s widened eyes when
he drops his opponent and spits the skin out onto the floor.
The crowds overhead are going wild.
Chan catches him. His arms slip around Hyunjin’s middle as he keeps him upright. An
overexcited announcer overhead is shouting that he won, he’s a savage but he won.
Changbin rushes to catch his other side. They walk him out with Minho and Seungmin
eventually catching up behind them. The screaming and cheering is still blasting even as
Hyunjin is carried to the door.
The others don’t see it but Hyunjin does. Watching from the second floor, Choi Minjun is
smiling and clapping. His impressed gaze on Hyunjin’s frame even as Chan and Changbin
carry Hyunjin out the door and out of sight.
Felix was left with looking after Jeongin.
The mansion had been the safest place. There are staff there and it’s far enough out of the
way that if the worst were to happen and Jeongin somehow escaped, he wouldn’t get far.
Jeongin doesn’t look psychotic when he’s asleep. He looks like himself again. Long lashes
kiss his cheekbones and lines of stress and fear disappear in slumber. It’s almost easy to
forget what he’s capable of.
Felix eyes the ribbon that keeps Jeongin’s left hand to the headboard. It’s just a precautionary
measure. He didn’t want to leave a mark on his skin by tying too tightly but it does put him
on edge that he was left alone here.
It feels like forever before the doors open and he looks up to see Hyunjin, barely standing
Hyunjin, walking in with a thick bandage wrapped around the side of his head and several
cuts and bruises all over.
“Oh my god!” he shrieks as he jumps off the bed and rushes to Hyunjin.
Chan and Changbin appear behind him, both a little wary as Felix checks over Hyunjin.
“What happened?!” Felix squeaks. “Are you…?”
“He’s fine,” Changbin assures him. “We got him out in time.”
Chan looks a little less convinced but doesn’t say anything as Hyunjin slowly limps past
Felix and walks towards the bed. The three of them watch as he climbs up onto the bed and
onto Jeongin. Hyunjin reaches a hand up and gently pulls at the knot holding Jeongin’s hand
hostage.
“I’ll be fine,” he says, voice croaky as he kisses Jeongin’s freed hand and sets it down gently
onto Jeongin’s chest. “Go guys, I’ll be fine.”
Changbin pulls a small orange pottle of painkillers out from his pocket and throws it to
Hyunjin who somehow miraculously manages to catch it in one hand. They’d obviously
taken Hyunjin to the hospital before they’d brought him back here and Felix can only
imagine what he looked like before he was patched up.
“I’ll explain everything,” Changbin promises, a gentle hand around Felix’s waist as he leads
the other out of the room.
“Rest,” Chan tells Hyunjin. “Both of you.”
Hyunjin is in the process of swallowing two pills dry when Chan closes the door.
Alone, Hyunjin’s vision wavers once more. He puts the pulls aside and his aching body
seems to sing with relief when he lies himself down next to Jeongin.
It feels like he never left. Like he’s still in his own bed, his finger tracing over Jeongin’s face,
watching him sleep, contemplating what it means to love him. If he loves him.
But Hyunjin’s body is battered, his head is battered and it’ll take a while to heal. Minjun’s
smile sticks in his mind. He hadn’t seemed angry, he’d seemed almost proud. Impressed,
even.
...the fuck does that mean now?
Jeongin sleeps on, unaware of Hyunjin resting his arm over his chest and cuddling into his
side. He doesn’t see the way Hyunjin’s eyes soften at the sight of him, he doesn’t feel
Hyunjin’s kiss on his temple and he doesn’t hear Hyunjin whisper in his ear four words he
wouldn’t have ever said if he didn’t spend the entire day struggling to survive. To get back to
him.
“I love you, Innie,” Hyunjin whispers, his eyes automatically closing as he rests his head on
Jeongin’s shoulder.
He’s out in seconds.
Chapter End Notes
Hello peeps!
Happy Anniversary, which happened like ten days ago but lets not talk about how long it
took me to get this chapter out of my head XD
I feel like that's how it's going to happen as we draw closer to the climax of this story,
it's going to take me longer because the last thing I want to do is write something shit so
it takes me a wee bit longer to actually be satisfied with chapters and how they need to
turn out (for reference, this chapter is about 48 pages long and I ended up deleting 10
from the original draft...which was even longer)
I suck at fight scenes which is probably why I spent most of this chapter describing
blood.
Anyway, it is nearly 9am, I have been writing all night because I didn't want to lose
whatever writing high made me punch out that many pages for two stories in all of three
days but now I'm going to sleep, probably all day because damn. Brain. Let me rest.
See you next time! I love you all and thank you for keeping this story alive :)
XXVIII: Nemini cedere
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
Ế
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
Despite his turbulent upbringing, Jeongin was always sort of a romantic at heart.
During long nights in the hospital, particularly after gruelling exploration operations that had
him on sedatives the majority of the day, he used to lie in his bed and imagine someone there
with him.
His mother never stayed when he was in for the night (or the week) and he’d often end up
either in a ward by himself or - if his condition wasn’t that bad - in the children's ward.
His bed would be one of four lined up against the wall with a curtain between each bed.
Because it was the children’s ward, the curtains would often be patterned with jellyfish,
shells, ocean designs or butterflies. He used to stare at those patterns, counting the butterflies,
occupying himself with counting and dreaming and imagining someone there with him.
Then at night, when the hospital was quieter, he’d curl up in bed and imagine a friend.
Someone to be there for him, listen to him when he cried, hold his hand and just stay with
him. Stay with him even when he went into those scary operating theatres, stay with him
when he was scared and alone and wondering if this was the hospital visit he’d never get out
of.
Years later in the asylum, Jeongin would find himself alone a lot of the time. He’d be sitting
in a padded room, arms folded around himself with the sleeves tied tightly behind himself
and he’d imagine that same friend sitting with him. Talking to him, the only friendly face in
the entire facility to keep him company.
Sometimes Jeongin thinks it’s the only thing that kept him from going completely insane in
there.
Older Jeongin isn’t prone to thinking back on his past but if he had, he’d have thought his
imaginary friend back then looked a lot like Hyunjin.
Jeongin wakes up feeling like a ton of bricks. Every muscle is heavy, every bone lethargic. It
even takes awhile to open his heavy eyelids because his entire body is just exhausted.
He feels a sticky warmth at his side, the blankets are too heavy and it’s too hot but he can’t
muster the strength to kick them off. He feels like he used to after hours of heavy sedation but
for the life of him, he can’t remember what happened yesterday. Everything’s a blur and
nothing is coming to mind fast enough.
A drop in his stomach reminds him that he’d been worried about something yesterday. But
what? He vaguely remembers being at work, Felix’s worried eyes, his outstretched hands and
why had he looked so scared?
The kitchen floors...the stainless steel counters...Minho rushing for him...Hyunjin...
With a gasp, his eyes fly open and his heart is already thundering away in his chest. He’s in
panic mode, he can tell because breathing is suddenly ten times harder but before he can truly
fly out into an all out panic attack, a heavy weight on his chest gives him pause.
He turns his head and his panic dies immediately. Hwang Hyunjin, beaten, swollen, bruised
and cut, is fast asleep next to him. His limbs are tangled with Jeongin’s and the weight on
Jeongin’s chest is his arm.
Jeongin’s body is still too weak, too lethargic but he forces himself to roll onto his side so he
can get a better look at Hyunjin.
Hyunjin’s beautiful face is battered, his lip is cut, his left eye is swollen and bruised like
someone had been clubbing his face with a bat. There’s a stained bandage around his head,
his hair is slightly matted with darker patches where blood had congealed.
Jeongin’s too scared to touch him for fear he might hurt him but who did this to him? What
monster had taken him away yesterday and done this to him?
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Hyunjin mumbles. The cut on his lip starts to bleed again as he
opens his unswollen eye and smiles gently. “Hey Innie.”
Jeongin sniffles, it’s like all his anxiety and panic from yesterday leaves him all at once and
he suddenly feels overwhelmed, emotional. He wraps his arms around Hyunjin and pulls him
into a tight hug with a sob. It’s not until he hides his face in Hyunjin’s shoulder that he feels
the other tensing and realises he must be hurting him.
“Sorry,” he gasps, pulling back as fast as he’d curled into him. “S-sorry, you’re hurt….”
“Don’t care, come here,” Hyunjin mumbles as his arms pull Jeongin back into him.
Hyunjin rolls onto his back, dragging Jeongin with him until Jeongin is settled on top of him.
He then arranges the blankets around them both, cocooning Jeongin between his arms and the
blankets. Jeongin’s face rests on Hyunjin’s chest, right above the sound of his beating heart
and he feels calm wash all over him.
He can feel Hyunjin’s thumb rubbing slow circles into his back, his other hand perched
securely at the base of his spine and the blankets provide an all-encompassing warmth that
immediately puts him into a state of complete ease within seconds.
“Who took you?” Jeongin asks, his hands curling into small relaxed fists on Hyunjin’s chest.
“Wolgang Pa,” Hyunjin answers quietly. “Guess they figured out it was me who killed their
former leader.”
Jeongin lifts his head to look at Hyunjin’s battered face.
“Did they do that to you?”
“Yeah, but I won,” Hyunjin shrugs as his hand comes up to push Jeongin’s head back down
onto his chest. “Don’t know what that means, exactly. If they’re recruiting, I’m not
interested.”
Jeongin winces. It’s one thing to be thrown in a restaurant with people who use human meat
on the menu but a gang is another matter altogether. He’s never had any desire to go near the
kkangpae, the fact that they’re closely affiliated with one now is enough to set his teeth on
edge. Especially if they have their eyes on Hyunjin.
As if sensing his unease, Hyunjin’s hand moves up to Jeongin’s shoulder blade. Thin fingers
gently rub against tense muscles and Hyunjin’s lips brush the top of Jeongin’s head for just a
moment.
“Shh,” he hushes, his other hand nestled in Jeongin’s hair. “It’s okay, Innie. I’m not running
off to join the kkangpae.”
“But...but what if they don’t give you a choice?” Jeongin whimpers. He’d lift his head but
Hyunjin is keeping it down on his chest. “They don’t ask...they take…”
“Then they’re going to lose some limbs,” Hyunjin promises. “Be calm, Innie. I’m not going
anywhere.”
Jeongin sniffs and he wishes he could believe him. Before the fiasco of yesterday, he might
have believed him too. If Hyunjin told him he’d be staying with him, Jeongin would have had
no problem believing him but the problem is that yesterday, Hyunjin had been taken
regardless of his promises. He’d spent the entire day getting the shit kicked out of him and
yes he was back now but Jeongin had had to endure a full 24 hours of absolute terror before
he came back.
He couldn’t say he was staying and not going anywhere when someone else could make him
leave.
“I think I went crazy again without you,” he admits quietly, his voice almost muffled because
he had his lips smushed against Hyunjin’s chest. “I started hallucinating you and….and I
freaked out and…”
He frowns, he can’t remember how exactly that ended but he does remember seeing Chan
coming in through the back door and grabbing him. Then...nothing.
“You’re not going crazy,” Hyunjin tells him, his thumb rubbing smaller circles into Jeongin’s
shoulder blade. “You hear me? You’re not insane.”
“Sane people don’t hallucinate,” Jeongin reminds him quietly.

“Sane people don’t chop people into little pieces and stick them in frying pans either,”
Hyunjin deadpans. “If you’re insane, we’re all insane.”
Jeongin can’t help himself. Maybe it’s because he’s still feeling too fragile or maybe it’s
because Hyunjin’s warmth and comfort is getting to him but he stifles a small sob into
Hyunjin’s chest. His body shakes, he curls into Hyunjin and somehow manages to make
himself smaller but Hyunjin doesn’t seem to mind.
All the while, Hyunjin’s hands are gently calming Jeongin, rubbing little circles into his skin
whilst his lips press little kisses against the top of his head.
Through a lump in his throat and barely stifled sobs, Jeongin clings to Hyunjin and shuts his
eyes.
“I don’t wanna go back there,” he whimpers.
It’s one of his biggest fears. That one day, he’ll wake up and the first thing he’ll see is that
sterile ceiling. The padded walls, the sealed door and the eyes staring at him through the tiny
window.
He’d spent years there. He doesn’t talk about it but he’d been in that place a long time, it still
appears in his nightmares. Even years later.
“You’re not going back there,” Hyunjin promises, his lips against Jeongin’s hair as he holds
him tighter. “You hear me? You’re not going back in there. You belong with me and you’re
not going anywhere.”
“But what if…?”
“Shhh.”
Jeongin sniffles and Hyunjin’s hands move. He gently lifts Jeongin’s face until Jeongin is
looking up at Hyunjin. Even battered and bruised, Hyunjin is serious when he stares at him.
“Listen to me,” he says in a level tone. “You’re not going back there. I will tell you that every
single day for the rest of your life if that’s what it takes to convince you but you’re not going
back there. Even if you do, I will burn, torture and kill every single obstacle in my way to get
you back - do you hear me?”
Jeongin can feel a warm tear streaking down his cheek even as he nods slowly.
Hyunjin pulls him up and Jeongin meets him halfway for a kiss. He can taste blood from the
cut on Hyunjin’s lips but neither seem to care at this point.
He rests his head on Hyunjin’s shoulder, face tucked into the crook of his neck. Hyunjin’s
breathing, the sound of his heartbeat grounds Jeongin just as much as the feel of his fingers
rubbing gently against his tense back muscles.
He falls asleep to the sound of Hyunjin humming a slow, sweet tune in his ear and he’s never
felt safer in his life.
The car Chan called for Minho drives along the quiet, empty rural roads outside of Busan,
taking him back towards the city as he pulls his phone up and flicks through the contacts list.
Against his better judgement, he’d placed Minjun’s number in his phone. It was Minjun’s
idea after all, just in case he was ever attacked it would be best to have someone to call.
He grimaces at the sight of the name and glances at the driver for a moment before pressing
the call button and leaning back in his seat. He presses the button next to him to pull a
window up between himself and the driver - just in case.
“Minho,” Minjun’s voice answers in record time. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
“That makes one of us,” Minho huffs. “I’m just going to ask you this once and if you lie to
me, I will know. Did you send that guy after me?”
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific,” Minjun teases. “What guy?”
“The one who chased me, the one who bruised my shoulder and could have killed me before
I got to you,” Minho answers in a firm, curt tone. “Was it you who sent that guy after me?”
A moment of silence. He hears something very quiet in the background before Minjun
answers at last.
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“Because I ran into you,” Minho points out. “Your timing was perfect. I ran right into you, I
was scared, frazzled and you talked your way into spending a night at my apartment. Worked
out pretty well for you, wouldn’t you say?”
“Aha, and you think I’d resort to underhanded tactics such as getting some random to scare
the shit out of you so you’d let me in?” Minjun asks. “Are you out of your mind?”
“That guy grabbed my shoulder, he could have killed me and yet he ran off the second he saw
you?” Minho frowns. “I don’t buy it, Minjun. I wasn’t in my right state of mind that night but
now that I’m thinking about it, it doesn’t add up at all.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean that I’m the guy who put you in that position,”
Minjun argues. “I know we barely know each other, but I’m not the kind of guy who’d pull
stunts like that. I prefer doing my own chasing, thank you very much.”
“I don’t believe you,” Minho frowns.
“Well that’s your problem,” Minjun says with a slight sniff. “Maybe the guy knew who I was
and that was reason enough to run off?”
“Or maybe he was working for you.”
“Oh for fucks sake-”
“No, Minjun, you listen to me,” Minho snaps. “I want you to back off. Leave me alone and
stop coming to the restaurant. I’m taken, I’m not interested and you’re fucking up the fragile
thread I have left to repair a relationship I actually give a shit about. So back the fuck off.”
There’s another moment of silence and Minho’s eyes turn to the window. Just outside he can
see the lights of the city passing him by, the car rolls along busy roads where he can see the
life of the city. The people out at night, the cars on their way home, the city doesn’t sleep.
It doesn’t sleep and neither does he. Not really. Ever since Jisung moved out of his apartment,
ever since it’s been only him and his cats, he hasn’t functioned properly at all. His apartment
is always cold, there’s always something missing and it aches. He knows Jisung deserves an
explanation - at the very least, he deserves that.
“Fine,” Minjun finally answers. “I’ll leave you alone. Good luck when you find out the guy
trying to kill you has nothing to do with me.”
Minho just huffs. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”
Without waiting for an answer, he cuts the call off and leans over to pull down the window
between himself and the driver. He leans out of his seat, startling the driver who looks up in
surprise.
“Sir?”
“Sorry,” Minho smiles. “I know Chan told you to take me home but can you take me
somewhere else? I have an address.”
The driver looks confused but he nods and after Minho gives him the new address, he turns
the car around and starts driving towards the outskirts of the city.
The scent of baking fills the kitchen as Chan and Changbin seat themselves at the kitchen
table to process the day. Seungmin and Minho had gone home and with the three of them
tasked with looking after Hyunjin and Jeongin, Felix’s first reaction was to resort to stress-
baking.
So Chan had taken him to the massive kitchen he barely used and Felix attacked the well
stocked fridge with an almost manic speed.
“We need some sort of plan in place,” Changbin says as the two of them watch the way Felix
works his stress out by beating the eggs into his third mixture.
Chan thinks, not for the first time, that they should have opened a bakery. Felix bakes enough
to feed an army, especially when he’s stressed. Which he has been a lot lately.
Sending him home to recharge for a bit might actually be the best thing.
“Where’d you get the sedative from anyway?” Felix asks, tuning into their conversation as he
leans over to grab the flour. “And the needle?”
“I saw it coming and called in a favour,” Chan replies with a small shrug. “We may not be so
lucky next time but given how Innie blacked out and murdered people last time something
happened to Hyunjin, I figured he’d do something like that this time.”
Changbin frowns and it’s a point of concern. They already know both Jeongin and Hyunjin
are incapable of functioning properly when they’re not together. They can’t keep knocking
Jeongin out whenever something happens to Hyunjin.
“I don’t know why Wolgang Pa has taken an interest in Hyunjin but I can ask,” Changbin
says, his nail tapping on the bench as his mind whirrs at a million miles per hour. “Thing is,
Woo might not even be aware of this. In terms of hierarchy, he’s far too high to notice things
like recruitments.”
“Hyunjin in Wolgang Pa,” Felix shudders. “There’s something no one needs.”
Chan nods in doleful agreement. “I’d rather they didn’t come recruiting my own staff. Talk to
Wooyoung and San, see if anything can be done to stop it. I don’t care if you have to shoot
recruiters in the head, I don’t want Hyunjin in there.”
Changbin nods and pulls his phone out as Felix starts mixing the batter until it’s thick and
sticky enough to be rolled into little balls and stamped down with the bottom of a fork.
“Do you think this has something to do with that guy who was sniffing around Minho?” Felix
asks.
“Very likely,” Chan says. “I won’t rule it out. I should have seen it coming that Wolgang Pa
would try recruiting us if they got too close but I didn’t think they actually would.”
“Given what Wolgang Pa tends to look for, of all of us, the ones most at risk of being
recruited are Hyunjin...and probably Minho,” Changbin adds as an afterthought. “I can make
some enquiries and try to get Minjun to stop but what worries me is Innie.”
Chan nods. He’d seen it coming, that was why he called in the favour to begin with. He just
couldn’t take the risk that Jeongin would freak out and turn murderous like he did last time.
But this isn’t a long-term solution, they can’t just keep knocking him out whenever
something happens.
“I’ll figure something out,” he promises. “In the meantime, talk to Wooyoung, Bin. If we can
put a stop to Wolgang Pa being a pain in our asses, that would make my life easier at least.
They need to stay away from Hyunjin, the last thing I need is him in a gang.”
Felix leans down to put the newest batch of cookies into the oven. The trays make a clanging
noise as he moves his batches around and as he works, Chan can’t help but notice Changbin’s
eyes helplessly glued to Felix’s backside.
He doesn’t even realise the grin on his face is teasing until Changbin finally looks away from
Felix’s ass and notices Chan instead. Changbin’s cheeks bloom a lovely shade of red as he
looks away.
“Shut up.”
“I said nothing.”
“I still heard you,” Changbin mutters, kicking Chan under the bench.
When Chan kicks back, Felix closes the oven and turns around.
“Do I have to separate you two?” he asks, his amused grin shining underneath his fake
exasperation.
“He started it,” Chan says, pointing at Changbin who starts spluttering like a fish out of
water.
“I did not! You were being an ass!”
“All I was doing was smiling,” Chan shrugs, an innocent look on his face as Changbin kicks
him again under the bench.
It’s familiar, this banter, but something’s missing and they can all feel it. Their smiles falter as
they realise the piece missing to their group.
“Think Minho and Han will make up?” Felix asks, openly addressing the issue. After all, he’s
not exactly part of it but even he can tell Chan and Changbin miss Jisung’s presence near
them. Even their banter isn’t complete without him.
“They better,” Changbin sighs. “Because I don’t think Minjun is the kind of person who takes
no for an answer too long and Hannie hasn’t been himself for months. If they don’t make up
tonight, I’m gonna lock them in a storage container until they come out married.”
Chan snorts. “And it would still be a better wedding than mine was.”
They laugh but the hole Jisung left in their group is sorely felt. For all their sakes, they can’t
help but hope for a resolution. One way or another.
When not hiding in one of Chan’s apartments, Jisung’s normal hiding place is actually his
parents mansion. It’s a little out of the way of the city and largely unused because his parents
travel the world just as much now as they did when he was younger - he barely sees them
nowadays.
Last he heard his mother had an affair with some Spanish tourist whilst she was on business
in Lebanon and his father opened a new business in England. Neither seem to care what the
other is doing but through emails, postcards and the occasional letter, the news gets back to
Jisung. They seem more open to sharing things with him now that he’s older and both seem
to relish having someone to tell about their extramarital affairs - perhaps it makes it more
exciting.
There’s no point in wondering why they even bothered to get married in the first place when
they probably see each other even less than they see their own son. Jisung knows how it
works already, they were both from rich families, they found a business-like arrangement in
getting married and they found a way to make it work - by putting as much distance from
each other as possible.
It’s not something Jisung himself would ever be capable of. In addition to not exactly
behaving like a good chaebol son ought to, he values the idea of love more than his own
parents do. Rather than making things work for the sake of appearances and sneaking around
with Spanish tourists later, he’d rather spend the rest of his life with someone he knows he
loves.
A maid once told him he’d grow out of that. He’s still waiting.
He wonders sometimes what would happen if he did grow out of it. If he did manage to
shove Minho out of his life and find something else. Would he marry someone he barely
knows like his parents did? Spend the rest of his life wandering the world on business,
meeting new people overseas, sleeping with them, is that what he’s supposed to do?
He can’t imagine it because everytime he imagines his life, maybe ten years from now,
Minho is always in it. One way or another, he’s always there. He brings love and he brings
pain and Jisung can’t imagine his life without him.
Well he can...but it would be empty and dark.
His parents mansion is large, not as big as the one Chan has but still far too large for one
person. The sound of the doorbell echoes loudly as Jisung heads down the grand staircase and
shoos away the maid who was about to answer the door.
“I’ve got it,” he says and she hurries off with a bow.
Her heels click on the polished marble even as Jisung reaches the door and pulls it open. He
takes one look at his visitor and moves to close the door.
He would have, if the visitor didn’t stick his foot in the way.
“I just wanna talk,” Minho says and he’s looked better.

They both have.
Minho looks like he’s been up all night, his hair is askew, his face flushed and dark circles
under his eyes give him away. Jisung knows he doesn’t look much better - if anything he
looks worse because he’d spent the better part of last night drinking, crying and basically
trying to not exist. Trying to forget he’d opened his bruised and battered heart again only to
have it systematically crushed at the sight of a shirtless kkangpae in Minho’s living room.
“I don’t wanna talk,” Jisung mutters. He keeps his hand firmly on the doorknob and frowns at
Minho’s shoe in the way. “Move your foot.”
“Han, we need to talk,” Minho tries, his tone a little firmer. “It wasn’t what it looked like-”
“Oh, fuck, not that fucking line,” Jisung groans and he thought he’d be more sad than angry
but at those words, his rage bubbles in his chest. He finds he is capable of glaring at Minho
quite easily. “Don’t use those overused lines on me, Lee Minho.”
“Just talk to me!” Minho snaps back, his foot still firmly in the doorway. “I’ll explain
everything, just let me in!”
“Fuck you!” Jisung screams and he doesn’t want to but his eyes are already filling with tears.
Fuck, hadn’t he cried enough last night?
“You know I really thought we had a chance. Do you know how much it took for me to call
you that night? I was fucking scared out of my mind. Then we talked and I thought we had a
chance. You wanna talk now? Why didn’t you fucking tell me on the phone that you had a
half-naked gangster in your living room!”
“Han, I will tell you everything but you have to let me in,” Minho replies. “I’m not doing this
on your front porch where everyone can hear.”
Maybe it’s the pitiful look on his face or maybe it’s lifelong conditioning of never airing his
dirty laundry in public but Jisung is suddenly aware of how many maids and servants are in
hearing distance. The last thing he wants is for any of this to get back to his parents, they
don’t even know who Minho is.
With a deep breath, he opens the door and steps back to let Minho inside. Then, without a
word, he turns on his heel and leads the way up the grand staircase.
He knows it must be daunting. Minho’s only been here once before and that had been more
than enough. Whilst Chan and Changbin were too used to empty rooms and being left alone
by their parents, it was Minho who had commented that Jisung must have felt lonely here. It
was Minho who ended up being the only person who saw the long hallways, the big empty
rooms and somehow understood that despite Jisung’s upbringing, he’d never gotten used to it
the way Changbin and Chan had.
He was trained to be the perfect chaebol son. Conceal all emotions, don’t show your cards,
get on with it and never expect anything but it wasn’t who Jisung was by nature.
Minho was the only one who got that right away.
He leads the way to his bedroom and closes the door once Minho is inside. The room hasn’t
changed since he moved out, still the same four poster bed near the wide window. The
textbooks and fiction books lining the bookshelves. A few pictures of himself with Chan and
Changbin on the walls, he’d taken most of them with him when he moved out - left the extras
here just in case he had to come back.
Not that he ever thought he’d have to.
Minho lingers near the door, clearly uncomfortable as Jisung walks to the middle of his room
to ensure space between them. He turns back to Minho and folds his arms, giving him an
expectant look. Thankfully the tears stopped, now all that’s left are red rimmed eyes and
heavy eyelids.
“Okay,” he says. “Talk. Tell me why that guy was in your apartment. Not that I expect you to
tell me the truth since you failed to tell me he was there at all.”
“I am sorry about that,” Minho winces. “I really am. That night you called, I was...I really
needed you and I didn’t want to talk about what was going on outside my room.”
“Oh,” Jisung laughs bitterly. “You didn’t want to mention that he was out there?! Seems a
pretty important thing to mention in my opinion. It could be just me but if the roles were
reversed I’m pretty sure you’d want to know if I’m not alone when you call me!”
“Han, he was there to protect me,” Minho says. “Nothing else. I swear.”
“Protect you?” Jisung narrows his eyes and it’s clear from his tone he doesn’t believe Minho.
“Protect you from what?”
“Someone attacked me that night,” Minho explains. He pulls the left side of his collar down
to reveal a fading bruise on his shoulder. “After my shift, I was walking towards the station
and I noticed someone following me. And when I ran, he chased me. I ran right into Minjun
and he offered to protect me. That’s it.”
“Minjun,” Jisung huffs. “You’re on a first name basis with him now?”
“Dammit, Han, I was really scared,” Minho frowns. “I was terrified. I could have died if that
guy actually got hold of more than just my shoulder. Minjun surmised he’d been sent by
someone, apparently I must have pissed someone off, and he offered to just guard me in case
he attacked my house. That’s it.”
Jisung narrows his eyes and the story doesn’t add up to him. He knows Minho isn’t lying, by
now he can tell when he is, but it still doesn’t make any sense.
“One, why didn’t you tell anyone else about this guy trying to kill you and two, what was that
gangster doing there in the first place? Are you sure it wasn’t him who sent the guy that
attacked you?”
“The thought did occur to me, but only in the morning after,” Minho admits quietly. “The
reason why I didn’t tell anyone else was because I didn’t want any of you guys in danger. If
someone was sent to kill me - and if that someone had nothing to do with Minjun - then they
could have hurt any one of you whilst coming after me.”
He pauses for a moment and shakes his head. “The logic was that if this guy did come after
me in my apartment, I at least wouldn’t give a shit if he hurt Minjun instead of any one of
you.”
Jisung frowns and he still doesn’t get it.
“I wasn’t thinking straight that night, I was scared,” Minho explains slowly. “I was scared
and everything Minjun said was making sense to me. It was only later, when I was safe at
work and able to think again that I realised it could have been Minjun himself who sent the
guy after me - in which case I’m an idiot and I fell for it.”
Jisung can’t help but nod slowly. It makes more sense that way, he can’t think of anyone
Minho could have pissed off enough to warrant a target on his back.
Chan, yes. Changbin, maybe, Himself, probably. But not the likes of Minho.
“But I swear,” Minho continues. “Nothing happened. He was in my living room, I took my
cats with me and locked myself in my room. We didn’t do anything and I spent that entire
night missing you like crazy. When you called...all I wanted to do was talk to you. I didn’t
forget that he was there. I just...didn’t know how to bring that up. I didn’t want to lose you.”
Jisung can feel a mild headache coming on and he shakes his head. “You didn’t want to
mention that ‘by the way, don’t be alarmed but there’s an asshole with a six pack wandering
around in the other room because some guy just tried to kill me tonight.’”
“Yes, basically,” Minho shrugs, his eyes downcast. “I know I should have told you but...but I
didn’t and I’m sorry. I missed you so much, I just wanted to talk like we used to and I was so
scared something would climb through my window to kill me. I needed you so badly, It was
stupid, it was wrong and I’m really sorry but I swear, I do not want him. I want you.”
“He wants you,” Jisung reminds him. “That’s why he keeps coming back to the restaurant,
that’s why he takes your tables and stares at you when he has the chance. You knew he
wanted you and still you let him stay in your apartment?”
“Like I said, I was scared and not thinking straight. I’m sorry, I am really sorry. But nothing
happened.”
Jisung feels something loosen in his chest. A small fear that Minho had been cheating on him
all this time, that Minho had been sleeping around behind his back and some part of his
rational mind knew that Minho wouldn’t. He knew that even if it was Chan, Minho wouldn’t.
Not now. Not with what they have.
But jealousy had been tearing Jisung apart and he was fragile when he’d come to Minho’s
apartment that morning. Seeing Minjun was enough to rear even the ugliest green monster
from him.
Hearing the truth from Minho is enough to soothe the ache in his chest but not heal it. Not
yet.
His silence seems to be enough of an answer because Minho slowly nods and takes a step
back. It feels like they’re undoing the progress they’d made with that last phone call, now
they’re right back where they started. With Minho stepping back and giving Jisung time and
space to process everything and figure himself out.
The problem with that is that Jisung knows damn well he’s not good at that. He gets confused
and lost when Minho isn’t near him and he starts doubting himself. Fearing that Minho
doesn’t love him as much as he loves Minho. That one day he’ll crush his heart into pieces
again and if he did that a second time, Jisung fears he wouldn’t be able to survive it.
But when Minho is near him, all Jisung wants is him. He wants him all the time and he isn’t
capable of resisting or thinking about the what ifs and the maybes.
That’s what scares him most. That if Minho is standing right in front of him, Jisung would
forgive him everything. He’ll forgive every sin, every wrongdoing because it’s Minho. He’ll
let the other kill him quickly or slowly so long as it’s him and that kind of love is terrifying.
“I’ll leave you alone,” Minho says, turning to leave the room and Jisung should let him.
He should…
Jisung grabs Minho’s wrist before the other can open the door, before he even really has time
to think about what he’s doing. When Minho turns around, Jisung surges forwards until he
hears Minho’s back hit the door with a dull thud.
Jisung misses his lips at first, awkwardly kissing his nose but it’s quickly fixed when Jisung
tilts his head down and meets Minho halfway. Minho lets out a small noise against his lips,
his hands already perched at Jisung’s shoulders as Jisung deepens the kiss and grabs Minho’s
waist.
He’d missed this. He can feel it. His body had been aching for this and words cannot describe
the way every inch of him sings in relief upon feeling Minho around him again. That same
feeling overtakes him, nothing else matters. Chan, Minjun, nothing matters, the only thing
that matters is Minho and Jisung missed him more than words can say.
He has just enough piece of mind to lock the door before he pulls Minho into him and starts
stumbling backwards, blindly making his way back to the bed that was always far too big for
him and only ever felt warm when Minho was in it.
Minho’s hands are pulling at his shirt before they even reach it and Jisung reluctantly parts
from the kiss, both hands hurriedly pulling each other out of their shirts before Minho pulls
him back in with a needy noise and fuck, Jisung can’t breathe. He feels like he’s
hyperventilating, his hands are shaking and he can’t pull Minho in close enough. He feels like
if he doesn’t breathe Minho in, he’ll die and by the way Minho is shaking in his arms, he’s
not much better either.
They fall onto Jisung’s ridiculously plush bed and Jisung has the lead. His hands are tight
around Minho’s waist, holding him close as he pulls them up to the pillows and settles
himself between Minho’s legs.
Minho’s breathing comes out in small gasps, he’s shaking so hard when they pull away for air
and Jisung can’t stop. He bites and presses kisses along Minho’s neck, behind his ear, he
holds him tighter when he feels the other jump and he leaves marks all over him. He relishes
every noise Minho makes and fucking hell he missed this, how the hell did they survive
months without it?
He’s so busy marking Minho’s neck that he doesn’t even realise Minho’s hand between them
until his fingers slip underneath the waistband of Jisung’s trousers to palm him.
The sensation is so unexpected and it’s been too long since someone last touched him that
Jisung loses his breath against Minho’s neck, his fingers digging into the sheets for some
shred of sanity as a curse slips past his lips.
“I’ve missed this,” Minho mumbles, his lips pressing blind kisses against Jisung’s collarbone,
his neck, whatever he can reach. He pulls Jisung’s waistband down and slips his hand
underneath his underwear. “I’ve missed you.”
Jisung isn’t sure how he managed this long without this feeling. He lifts his head, lips finding
Minho’s again as the other manages to wriggle him out of his pants.
Jisung steals the air out of Minho’s lungs, he deepens the kiss with a desperate tilt of his head
and his hands card through Minho’s hair, holding his face even as Minho somehow manages
to get them both out of their pants.
They kick the offending material out of the bed and Jisung is thrown onto his back. His hands
grab Minho, pulling him closer as the other climbs on top of him and kisses him so hard their
teeth nearly clack.
It’s all heat and desperation. Hands grabbing at each other with unchecked strength and they
can tell they missed each other. Desperately. Jisung wasn’t even aware how badly his body
missed Minho’s until he had him this close again. He missed the way Minho’s hands would
clench, bruising his skin and he missed the noises Minho would make even as he prepped
him.
They don’t have to worry about making too much noise - the servants hardly ever come this
far into the mansion but Jisung still feels an old need to put his hand over Minho’s mouth as
his other is gently stretching Minho open with lube.
“How the...hell...did I survive...without you for so long?!” Minho gasps, his body spasming
every now and then when Jisung’s fingers hit something particularly toe-curling.
It’s Minho who’s pulling Jisung into him, his hands clinging to sweaty skin with a sense of
urgency and the second Jisung pushes in, he loses all sense of time and space. All that matters
right now is Minho, his heat, his breathing, his nails scraping red lines into Jisung’s skin, it’s
all that matters right now.
It’s with some amount of strength that Jisung flips them over once more, pushing Minho onto
his back and hovering over him to see the beautiful flush in Minho’s face. His lips parted, his
eyes pleading.
Jisung leans down to take his lips, unable to resist any longer and it’s Minho’s hands pulling
him in, deeper and deeper until he bottoms out with a long shaky exhale.
Thank god the servants can’t hear them. Jisung’s hand grabs the mattress for purchase, his
teeth gritting as he starts thrusting in earnest. It’s months of pent up longing and it’s felt on
both ends. Minho starts screaming Jisung’s name, over and over again, his hands clinging to
Jisung’s back, scratching deep enough to pull blood every time Jisung thrusts against
something that makes stars burst behind his eyelids.
“I need-” Minho gasps. “Han, I need-”
“I know,” Jisung whispers, his lips plugging Minho’s to stem the slew of loud cursing he
knows is coming.
Even after all this time, even after this break he still knows Minho’s body better than his own.
He knows where to kiss to feel Minho shiver, where to thrust to hear him scream. He feels
almost too needy but Minho meets him halfway with clinging hands, bruising kisses and
arms that won’t let him go.
“Han,” Minho babbles, his body shaking as a telltale sign he’s too close to the edge. “Han I-
fuck, I-fuck!”
Jisung sneaks his hand between them, finding Minho’s weeping and neglected cock. It
doesn’t take long but he has to hold Minho down when the other finally comes screaming.
Jisung locks his arms around him, he grits his teeth as the other clenches impossibly tight and
for a moment all he can do is hold him down, hear him panting, feel his hands keeping him
close.
“Han,” Minho finally breathes. His hands card gently through Jisung’s hair as Jisung lifts his
head to look at his face. The same beautiful face he’d spent months dreaming of and pining
over. Never again will he let him go.
With strength he really doesn’t have, Minho leans up to catch Jisung’s lips. He wraps his
arms around his shoulders and slides one hand down to push Jisung deeper into himself.
Jisung makes a small noise against his lips and it doesn’t take long, he was already too close.
One, two, three torturously slow thrusts later and Jisung gasps against Minho’s lips. His hips
spasm and Minho catches his lips again, swallowing every moan, every whimper and stifled
noise.
He collapses against the other. His ear pressed to Minho’s bare chest and he can hear his
heartbeat thundering beneath. Rabbit-fast like his own. Minho’s hands are gently stroking his
hair back, they’re both still breathing hard and Jisung can’t let him go.
It’s a long, long moment of both of them breathing before one of them finally breaks the
peaceful, blissful silence that fell over them.
“I’ve missed you,” Minho whispers.
Despite every reservation he had about their relationship, a smile bubbles up to Jisung’s lips
as he listens to the beat of Minho’s heart and curls into him.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “I missed you too.”
In the light of the morning, Changbin heads out first to deal with Wooyoung and Wolgang Pa.
From the dining area, Jeongin, Hyunjin and Chan have a straight, uninhibited view of the
front door as Changbin and Felix linger in it. Swaying against each other with nuzzles and
soft kisses reminiscent of a long goodbye.
When in reality, the chances of Changbin turning up at Felix’s apartment later tonight is
comfortably high.
“I hate it when you go deal with Wolgang Pa,” Felix pouts as his arms stay locked around
Changbin’s waist. “They’re dangerous, what if they don’t give you back?”
“I’ll be back,” Changbin promises, an amused grin on his face as he slips his hand through
Felix’s locks. “I promise. It’s just Woo and San, they like me.”
He kisses Felix’s pout away and in the dining room, Jeongin grimaces. He’s sitting at the
table with Chan. Somewhere in the kitchen, Hyunjin is tampering with the coffee machine
and swearing every now and then because he hits the wrong button.
“Hyunjin, you break my coffee maker, you buy me another one,” Chan calls after he hears a
muffled ‘fuck’ and some suspicious liquid noises coming from the kitchen.
“Why the fuck are your instructions in Arabic?!” Hyunjin calls back.
Chan tries to hide his grin behind his mug when Jeongin looks at him. He shoots him a smile
and leans in to whisper: “Because I hid the English and Korean instructions specifically to
piss him off.”
There’s another suspicious sound from the machine, followed by another curse and Jeongin
can’t help but chuckle. At least that is more entertaining than the nauseating scene happening
at the front door.
The morning has gone a lot better than Jeongin predicted it would. When he’d woken up
hungry, he’d followed Hyunjin downstairs where Chan, Felix and Changbin were already
waiting for them. Chan had offered breakfast whilst Changbin and Felix were saying
goodbye.
There is still a little part of Jeongin that is honestly afraid they’re going to bring up and force
him to talk about how he’d hallucinated Hyunjin in the kitchen but they haven’t just yet.
Jeongin isn’t even sure what he’d be able to tell them, he can barely understand it himself.
Changbin manages somehow to detach himself from Felix’s needy hands after a few more
kisses and whispered promises. Once he’s gone, Felix heads back into the dining room with a
slouch in his shoulders and a disappointed pout on his lips.
“He’ll be fine, Lix,” Chan assures him, he can’t hide the amused grin on his face as he
watches Felix slump into the kitchen chair. “I wouldn’t send him there if I thought he’d be in
any danger. As it is, he’s friends with the head of Wolgang Pa, it’s a comfortable position to
be in.”
It would be, if the head in question wasn’t so hated by everyone in the pa, but Jeongin
chooses not to point that out. Felix looks depressed enough as it is.
Hyunjin comes out of the kitchen at last with a steaming mug in his hands. Jeongin watches
with interest as he comes to the bench and sits himself down next to him, the scent of coffee
beans filling the air as he puts his cup down to cool.
“Did you finally manage to make it work?” Chan asks, a teasing grin on his face as Hyunjin
shoots him a small glare.
“Yes, finally,” he announces with a small huff. “I’m not responsible for all the spills on your
kitchen floor. You can thank the instructions I couldn’t read.”
Chan still looks amused. Jeongin, however, leans over to sniff curiously.
“What did you make?” he asks.
“Americano,” Hyunjin says, he takes a cautious sip before nodding to himself. “And I did it
right. Maybe I don’t have to learn Arabic after all.”
Chan is still giggling into his sleeve as Hyunjin holds his drink out for Jeongin to try.
Curious, Jeongin takes the cup in hand and sniffs it for a moment. He feels their curious eyes,
even Felix looks up from his depressed stupor to watch as Jeongin curiously takes a few
sips...and immediately regrets it.
The strongest taste of espresso hits his tastebuds all at once, overwhelming them with a taste
he could have gone his entire life not having. His face scrunches and he can hear Hyunjin
laughing as he passes the cup back to him and grimaces.
“God, how can you drink that shit?” he gasps, his hand coming up to claw the taste from his
tongue. “Oh my god.”
“Some people are a different breed,” Felix comments, a little impressed at Jeongin’s strong
reaction.
The morning passes rather languidly. The four of them eventually get around to finding
something to eat before showering and dressing for the day. It’s not until the sun is higher in
the sky and they’re all settled in one of the many sitting rooms that Chan finally brings up the
subject Jeongin knew was coming.
“We need to talk about what happened yesterday,” Chan says.
Jeongin feels Hyunjin’s arm tense slightly beside him and turns to look at the other. It hurts
him to see Hyunjin’s beautiful face so battered, the swelling in his eye hasn’t gone down at
all and the bruises will be there for some time. He can only imagine what Hyunjin had gone
through yesterday, the monsters that had attacked him like that.
If Jeongin had half the chance, he’d eviscerate them all.
“I’m getting the distinct feeling that Wolgang Pa is trying to recruit you,” Chan continues, his
eyes firmly on Hyunjin. “Do you know who took you?”
“That asshole that’s been sniffing around Minho,” Hyunjin replies. “And they seem to have
figured out I’m the one who killed their former leader - that’s why they went after me.”
Chan frowns. He has vague memories of seeing footage of that, Hyunjin had gone against
Jisung’s direct orders to kill them fast and instead made a show of killing both Moon
Jaeyoung and his eldest son. It helped keep some in line but he’d done it with a Shrek mask
over his face. He’d hidden his identity.
“How’d they figure out it was you?” Chan asks, frowning. “You were wearing a-”
“Mask, yes I know and I don’t know how but that asshole knew it was me,” Hyunjin cuts in
with a shrug. “They put me in that fight ring to settle some score. Apparently their old way of
doing it is if someone kills their leader, they become the leader. Since Wooyoung is there,
their alternative was throwing me in that pit and watching me fight my way out.”
Jeongin looks at the nasty bruise on Hyunjin’s face and frowns. Wolgang Pa recruiting
Hyunjin would lead nowhere good. Not for God’s Menu and not for him. He hasn’t had much
experience with gangs but it’s not something he’s eager to go anywhere near.
“Okay,” Chan says after a moment of thinking. “Hyunjin, you’re staying home to heal and to
keep you out of Wolgang Pa’s sight. Innie, you’re staying with him, I’ll get people to cover
you at the restaurant but for now I want you both out of sight. Maybe if I press hard enough,
Wolgang Pa will leave you alone.”
Hyunjin shrugs, he pulls Jeongin closer to himself and wraps his arms around him from
behind. “Maybe they were satisfied from that little show at the pit and they’ll leave me
alone.”
“I need to make sure that’s the case,” Chan tells him. “For now, both of you lay low.”
Hyunjin groans. It’s so quiet that only Jeongin can really hear him but Jeongin already knows
why. Hyunjin’s no good at home, he wasn’t good last time he had to stay home to recover -
actually he’d been a nightmare. Hyunjin gets restless at home and there’s only so much
Jeongin can distract him with.
Last time he’d barely been able to keep him in the house despite his injuries. Jeongin had
done his level best to keep him placated with gory horror movies, action films, Felix’s
brownies and so many fucking blowjobs his jaw almost dislocated itself.
This time might be a little harder because even though Hyunjin knows the risks of going out,
he’s likely to do it anyway just to get out of his apartment.
“I’ll have a car take you both home,” Chan tells them. “Two days minimum, stay inside.
Hopefully it won’t take me any longer to convince the pa to back off.”
Two days. Jeongin sinks into Hyunjin’s chest and silently prays it’ll only take two days. Any
longer and his ass might not hold out.
Chan calls a car and they’re taken home at about midday. Jeongin follows Hyunjin into their
apartment and it feels strange to be coming back like this. Like nothing happened when in
fact Jeongin almost went insane and Hyunjin almost got killed.
Their apartment looks just the way it did when they left it. A little messy but otherwise quiet.
“I miss Honey,” Jeongin comments as he follows Hyunjin to the living room and slumps on
the couch. “I know I don’t respond well to dogs but I miss her anyway. Where did you put
her?”
Hyunjin painstakingly sits down beside him and leans back with a quiet, pained exhale. “I
took her to Seungmin’s,” he says. “I just...kind of remembered you don’t have a great track
record when it comes to animals.”
Jeongin winces but Hyunjin - unfortunately - has a point. Many times when he was little,
he’d killed animals for the smallest of things. They were either too noisy, got too close,
barked at him and scared him - it didn’t take much. He’d like to say that now as a fully
conscious adult, he won’t lose control and do that again but Honey is safest with Seungmin -
for now at least.
As if reading his mind, Hyunjin pulls him in close and kisses the top of his head.
“Maybe we can arrange visits,” he suggests quietly. “Supervised visits. Ease you into having
her around. I just didn’t want to take any chances - I actually like that dog.”
“I know,” Jeongin says, a smile bubbling to his lips as he leans into Hyunjin. “She grows on
you.”
“Like a wart.”
Laughing, Jeongin lifts his head to press a small kiss to Hyunjin’s cheek. Hyunjin then turns
his head and kisses him on the lips instead. He presses in a little more, pulling a small noise
from Jeongin as Hyunjin pulls him in closer and takes his lips until they’re both out of breath.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Jeongin gasps when he finally manages to pull back enough to breathe.
“You’re...you’re supposed to be resting. Did you want me to make you something? I think we
still have painkillers-”
“Please don’t tell me you’re about to spend the next two days being my nurse,” Hyunjin
groans as he settles Jeongin onto his lap. “This isn’t like last time. I wasn’t shot, I was beaten
up - I can take care of myself.”
“Chan said you shouldn’t overdo it.”
“Chan can go fuck himself. I’m fine.”
Jeongin frowns. Hyunjin is the worst patient but he does have a point. This isn’t like last
time, he’s significantly less wounded than last time. Still it seems to be hardwired into
Jeongin’s DNA to worry like this.
“What’s wrong with me being your nurse?” he asks, his eyes narrowing a little in suspicion.
“Did you not like my bedside manner last time?”
“Your bedside manner sucks,” Hyunjin snorts, amused as he keeps his arms snug around
Jeongin’s frame. “You can’t keep me inside with sex and blowjobs. I’m not that shallow,
Innie.”
“Really?” Jeongin retorts, one eyebrow raised. “Because I vividly remember riding you so
hard you passed out and I actually managed to get some things done in the house without
having to worry about you sneaking out - or hear you whine about being stuck indoors.”
“I do not whine.”
“You whine all the time,” Jeongin laughs at the sight of Hyunjin’s defensive face. “You’d
think we’re telling you to whip yourself three times a day, not stay at home and literally be
paid for doing nothing.”
“I do not whine,” Hyunjin huffs. His hand smacks Jeongin’s ass and it’s satisfying to hear the
other yelp. “And I’d rather whip myself than stay inside and do nothing. You go crazy when
I’m not here, I go crazy when I’ve been stuck inside too long.”
“So long as you hallucinate whilst you’re indoors, it’s fine with me,” Jeongin shoots back and
Hyunjin has to admit he’s kind of impressed.
The boy sitting on his lap is far from the timid little thing that first came into God’s Menu
over a year ago. He’s grown, he’s more confident and he’s certainly not above taking
Hyunjin’s snark and serving it back tenfold. The more Jeongin comes out of his shell, the
more enamored Hyunjin is with him.
His hands slide up Jeongin’s back, into his hair and Jeongin seems to get the hint because he
leans down to meet Hyunjin’s lips halfway.
Hyunjin kisses him hard, pulls him in hard and Jeongin seems to melt into him. Jeongin’s
hands are at his shoulders and Hyunjin doesn’t even realise how hard he is until Jeongin
moves his hips and the spike of pleasure causes them both to moan against each others lips.
Jeongin’s hands start pulling at his shirt and Hyunjin is only too happy to comply. Both of
them undress each other, hands shaking with urgency and maybe Hyunjin isn’t the only one
who is vaguely reminded that he’d almost died the night before. They could have never done
this again, he could have died and left Jeongin all alone.
Somehow that seems to put a bit of urgency into sex because it’s not long before they’re both
completely naked and grinding on the couch like it’ll be the last time they ever fuck.
“Turn around,” Hyunjin mumbles against Jeongin’s neck. He bites a mark and feels the other
shiver in his arms. “Turn around and lean back.”
Jeongin is barely sane. He’s riddled with pink bites and small hickeys as he pulls away from
Hyunjin and turns around. Hyunjin helps him sit back down onto his lap, his cock easily
sliding into Jeongin as the other gasps and leans back until his back is against Hyunjin’s
chest. Jeongin’s head flops on his shoulder, little pants and gasps right into Hyunjin’s ear.
Between them, Hyunjin’s hand grabs Jeongin’s waist. The other starts stroking him in time
with his slow but deep thrusts.
Jeongin is a mess. He’s gripping the couch for some semblance of sanity, he’s whimpering
into Hyunjin’s ear and he twitches. Hyunjin is holding him tight enough that all he really can
do is lean back and feel the other hitting deeper than he’s ever been before.
Already Hyunjin is breathless. It’s taking quite a bit of work to hold Jeongin still, to thrust up
into him but it’s worth it to hear the way he moans. Hyunjin bites his shoulder and hears the
other scream.
It’s not as fast and urgent as their previous sessions. It’s agonizingly slow but so deep that
each thrust has Jeongin’s eyes rolling to the back of his head.
If they spend the whole two days fucking like this, Hyunjin imagines he will come out with
abs and Jeongin won’t be able to walk straight for at least a month. It might not be so bad
being cooped up inside after all.
“You’re mine, Innie,” Hyunjin whispers, his brow sweating as he concentrates on every slow
but hard thrust upwards. “Say it.”
Jeongin’s hips shudder between Hyunjin’s cock and his hand, his back arches and he lets out
a small moan. “You know I’m yours,” he breathes in a shaky voice. “Do you want it tattooed
on me?”
“Yes,” Hyunjin pants and he can feel himself shaking with each thrust. “I want every inch of
you.”
“You have it,” Jeongin reminds him with another shaky gasp. “Fuck, Hyun-”
“I’ve got you.”
“I’m-”
“I know,” Hyunjin thrusts again and watches the way Jeongin’s head drops back, his mouth
falls open and he’s so beautiful that Hyunjin can’t stop staring. “You know, I’d go mad
without you too, Innie. You’re not the only one who’d go in-fuck...insane.”
Jeongin’s hand finds Hyunjin’s thigh and he digs his nails in. His eyes keep fluttering and
every thrust leaves him breathless. If he were in control of this, it would be over already.
Quick, urgent thrusts, they’d have fucked like bunnies to a quick and satisfying end but
Hyunjin wanted to do it like this.
Slow. Deep. Maddening but it’s so worth it to see the way Jeongin shudders, the way he
moans and almost loses his mind the closer he gets to that sweet release. His body is
shuddering, begging for something faster but Hyunjin’s slow pace is driving him insane - and
slowly driving them both towards an orgasm that promises to be more powerful than either of
them have experienced before.
It’s like constant edging.
The closer they get, the more Jeongin shivers. Hyunjin has to grit his teeth, he’s just barely
holding himself back as he drives Jeongin slowly towards his end.
“Hyun,” he starts to beg, tears slip from the corners of his eyes as his hand spasms and starts
hitting Hyunjin’s thigh. “Hyun! Please, so...so close.”
Hyunjin doesn’t answer. He can’t answer. He’s just barely keeping himself from slamming
into Jeongin until they’re both gone. He focuses instead on Jeongin. His breathing, his body
heat, the level of his whimpers and moans.
Slow thrust after slow thrust until at last Jeongin gasps and arches his back. His eyes roll to
the back of his head and he seems to be ascending because that’s the only way Hyunjin can
justify the way Jeongin goes completely silent for a moment. Lips parted in a silent scream.
Then air rushes back into his lungs and his entire body spasms, Hyunjin’s hand is suddenly
covered in warmth as Jeongin whimpers, moans and shakes so hard that Hyunjin can only
hold onto him to keep him on his lap.
Hyunjin follows seconds later. He bites down on Jeongin’s shoulder, his entire body
spasming and for a blissful moment, all he can think of is how good it feels.
When they finally come crashing down to earth, they’re both gasping in each others arms.
The couch is a mess, they’re a mess and they’re both boneless, exhausted as they curl into
each other.
At some point they manage to get the energy to get up off the couch and clean up and it’s
well past sunset when Hyunjin finally sneaks outside for a smoke. The sky is pitch black, cars
drive by - most likely people going home after a long day of work.
Hyunjin sticks the cigarette between his lips and lights it. He feels a little better than he did
before about the idea of staying home, staying away - at least until things cool down. Still he
can’t help but feel a sense of restlessness growing despite the fact that he’d spent the better
part of the afternoon fucking Jeongin three times. Once on the couch, once in the shower and
another in the kitchen - Jeongin is kind of insatiable but then, so is he.
It’s not that surprising. It must be on his mind as much as it’s on Hyunjin’s. The reality of
their situation, the reality that Jeongin almost lost Hyunjin last night. Again. If Hyunjin had
lost the fight, if one of the others had beaten him...Hyunjin doesn’t even want to know what
would become of Jeongin.
The apartment doors open and he doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s Jeongin. Figures
he can’t even go out for a smoke, he was being considerate by not doing it indoors.
“Hyunjin,” Jeongin mumbles, his arms coming around Hyunjin’s middle as he hugs him from
behind. “The last time you left the apartment building, you got kidnapped. Don’t disappear
like that on me again.”
Hyunjin takes a deep drag and lets the smoke out in one long exhale. He turns to wrap his
arm around Jeongin’s shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of his head.
“You worry too much,” he says, one hand petting Jeongin’s hair whilst the other brings the
cigarette back to his lips.
Jeongin doesn’t say anything but the pout on his face is enough to pull a smile out of
Hyunjin.
“We’ve established that I go insane when you’re not near me,” Jeongin points out as he
shuffles to stand comfortably against Hyunjin’s taller frame. “If you keep sneaking off like
this, I’m going to chain you to me.”
Hyunjin laughs, he leans against the pole and keeps Jeongin close to his side. “Maybe we
should do that. I’ll get the cuffs and we can just stay chained. It’ll be our version of
marriage.”
“If that’s your idea of a proposal, I’m about to turn you down flat.”
“Who said anything about a proposal? You’re the one who suggested chains.”
Jeongin grins. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me.”
“You can be with me every second of every day.”
“Yes.”
“Sleeping together.”
“Yes.”
“Eating together.”
“Yes.”
“Shitting together.”
Jeongin’s nose scrunches in disgust. “You killed it.”
His pout gets Hyunjin laughing again and there’s a bruise in his side making itself known but
he can’t find enough energy to care as he flicks the cigarette away and pulls Jeongin into his
chest. He presses a kiss to his forehead and nuzzles his nose against Jeongin’s impossibly
fluffy hair.
There is one plus of being stuck at home: Jeongin. Hyunjin has never been much of a
homebody - he had that trait knocked clean out of him when he learnt as a child that being at
home with his alcoholic and abusive father was dangerous - but if Jeongin is there with him,
it’s not so bad.
He’s in the middle of thinking he only knows peace when he’s in Jeongin’s arms when a car
pulls up in front of the apartment block. It’s nothing new, cars pull up all the time for the
neighbours but when Hyunjin looks up, he sees a familiar face grinning at him from the
driver’s seat and his first instinct is to pull Jeongin behind himself.
Minjun pulls his sunglasses up to sit in his hair and grins at them both.
“Get in loser, we’re going shopping,” he calls.
Hyunjin narrows his eyes. “You’re bent if you think I’m going anywhere near you,” he
hisses. “Let me save you time by rejecting you now. I’m not interested in joining your little
pa.”
Minjun laughs. He turns the car off and opens the door to climb out onto the pavement.
Hyunjin can feel Jeongin behind him, his hands grabbing Hyunjin’s shirt as Minjun walks up
to both of them.
It doesn’t help that he’s so much taller and they have to look up at him.
“Under ordinary circumstances, I’d leave you alone,” Minjun says with a careless shrug. “I
mean Wolgang Pa used to have a great leader. But you killed him and then you showed your
skills in the pit and it was beautiful - now I’m not the only one who wants you in the pa.”
“You can all get fucked,” Hyunjin narrows his eyes. “I’m not joining. Now fuck off before
the next throat I tear out with my teeth is yours.”
“Oh that was hot,” Minjun laughs. “Fuck me that was the hottest thing I’ve seen since Lee
Minho. The way you tore that skin right out and spat it on the ground...fuck…”
Jeongin’s breath sharpens and Hyunjin has to reach a hand back to grab his wrist. He doesn’t
know if Jeongin’s about to run or jump for Minjun and try to maul him but neither would be a
good idea at this point. As much as he likes to watch his boyfriend tear someone apart,
Minjun would prove a challenge to both of them.
“Still,” Minjun sighs, having seemed to recover from his moment. “I promised the guys I’d
bring you in again. They’re very...shall we say...eager.”
“I’m not-”
He doesn’t even see it coming. One minute, Minjun is standing in front of them all teasing
smiles and coy glances and the next he has a gun in his hand and it’s pointed right at
Jeongin’s head.
The smile stays on his face the whole time.
“I wasn’t asking,” Minjun tells Hyunjin. “We can take your little boyfriend along if you like
but I promised I’d bring you in. One way or another, you’re getting in my car, pretty boy.”
Hyunjin glares, he keeps his hold on Jeongin’s wrist and he can’t see behind himself but he
knows the other has frozen still. His eyes probably trained on the gun pointed right at him
and it’s all Hyunjin can do to hold onto him and silently beg him not to run.
“So what’s it gonna be?” Minjun asks, his voice sugar sweet like he’s not pointing a loaded
gun at Jeongin’s head. “Shoot your boyfriend and drag your ass in my car? Bring you both
with me or leave your boyfriend here while you come with me?”
“You’re not going alone,” Jeongin manages to hiss despite his terror.
Minjun seems to find that amusing because his grin only gets wider.
“Ooh, I like him,” he comments and turns back to Hyunjin. “So? What’ll it be?”
Hyunjin grits his teeth. Behind him, his hand slips down Jeongin’s wrist until he finds his
hand and holds it tight. He’d rather leave Jeongin home. Jeongin is not safe anywhere near
the pa but if he leaves him behind god knows what he’ll do. He went insane last time, he’ll
do it again this time.
Through gritted teeth, he glares at Minjun and hisses: “Fine. We’ll go with you.”
“Excellent choice,” Minjun beams and his smile would look completely harmless were it not
for the gun in his hand.
The same gun he then uses to gesture towards his car. “Let’s go then, this’ll be fun.”
It’s night again by the time Jisung and Minho finally leave Jisung’s bedroom and head back
to the apartment on the other side of the city.
Minho’s in a daze the entire time, his fingers delicately woven with Jisung’s as they step out
of the uber and make their way lazily back to the apartment.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Minho reminds him as they slowly go up the stairs to their floor.
“I could have gotten back on my own.”
“After hearing someone was after you and that’s why that douchebag was in your living
room, I am never letting you go out alone ever again,” Jisung announces.
They hit their floor, their fingers still entwined as they slowly make their way towards the
door. They’d talked about this beforehand, what was going to happen now and Minho is still
against it.
“You could just come in,” Minho suggests just as they stop at the door. He turns to look at
Jisung. “You could stay the night.”
Jisung’s smile is soft as he shakes his head. “I’m moving in tomorrow but tonight I really
need to sort some stuff with the mansion. It just sits there gathering dust, we pay the servants
to basically live there and this is the one night my father will be in town. I’ve gotta take the
chance now or wait another six months until my mother gets back.”
Minho sighs. His other suggestion had been to simply stay at the mansion but Jisung had
insisted his parents didn’t know who Minho was - and Jisung was going to keep it that way.
The best thing to do, therefore, was to take Minho home and go back on his own to deal with
his father.
“Don’t pout,” Jisung says, grinning when he sees the familiar look on Minho’s face. “I’ll be
home tomorrow, I’ll sort shit out with my dad tonight, pack my things and be back here
tomorrow midday.”
“Morning,” Minho bargains with an almost childish pout. “I want you back here before I
wake up.”
It makes Jisung laugh even as they sway gently against each other. Their hands connected,
they refuse to part even now.
“Okay, I’ll be back before you open your eyes,” Jisung promises as he presses Minho gently
against the door and leans in close until their noses are inches apart. “I promise. The first
thing you see tomorrow will be me.”
Minho’s hands slide up Jisung’s arms until they perch gently at his shoulders. He pulls the
other in closer and meets his eyes.
“Promise?”
Jisung brings up his hand, pinky up and Minho laughs as he brings one of his hands down to
hook his own pinky around Jisung’s. They seal it with a stamp of their thumbs and Minho
brings his hand back up to pull Jisung’s head closer so he can kiss him.
They spend a good ten minutes like that. Pressed against each other, breathing each other in
and kissing like they don’t need oxygen. Minho feels Jisung’s hands on his waist, drifting up
and down his back and he’s missed his warmth so close to him. God help him he’ll never let
it go again.
When they finally pull back, a little pink faced for lack of air, Jisung’s eyes are as fond as
ever, lovestruck and helpless just like Minho’s.
“Okay,” he says, stepping back like it’s the hardest thing he has to do. “Open the door and
step inside. I’m not leaving you alone until I know you’re safe.”
“You just gave me incentive not to open the door,” Minho points out but when Jisung shoots
him a look of fond exasperation, he sighs and reaches behind himself to open his apartment
door.
He takes a few steps back, his body already calling for Jisung’s warmth as he gently lets his
hand go. He feels colder already.
“Okay,” he says. “I’m inside. I’m safe.”
“I’ll be with you tomorrow,” Jisung promises. “First thing you see when you wake up.”
Minho nods and he must look as pitiful as he feels because Jisung can’t seem to help himself.
He steps into the foyer for another kiss and Minho meets him halfway like a long lost lover.
Somehow they find the will to pull back again before they can get carried away. For good
measure, Jisung takes a large step back out into the hallway.
“Alright,” Jisung says. “Go shower, get some sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Send me random texts,” Minho requests, his hands perched on the doorframe. “I want
emoji’s random thoughts, everything.”
“That I can do,” Jisung grins. “Night Minho.”
“Night,” Minho smiles.
He watches Jisung head back for the stairs and right before he disappears, the two share
another smile between them. A promise of more later, once everything has been sorted.
Then he’s gone and Minho is still flying on cloud nine even as he closes his apartment door,
locking himself safely inside.
He’s warm inside, bubbly like he used to be in their first days of dating. The well of
excitement, of a promise that more will come has him almost floating as he takes his shoes
off and heads towards the living room.
“Dori?” he calls as his socks pad gently on the wooden floor. “Soonie? I’m home…”
He walks into the living room and stops in his tracks at the sight that greets him. Two large,
heavily armed guards in suits stand on either side of him and standing there in the middle of
the living room, Prime Minister Bang is in the middle of inspecting his living room.
The man dusts some cat hair off the sofa and turns to set his cold, hard eyes on Minho. At
once, the room turns freezing cold and Minho feels his stomach drop in fear.
“Lee Minho,” Chan’s father says, his tone cordial but cold. “You and I have a lot to talk
about.”
Chapter End Notes
Hello fellow Stays, must confess not too satisfied with this chapter. But it's like all the
others that fought me tooth and nail, sometimes you have to shove them out as best you
can and continue as best you can. This chapter fought me to the bitter end and I suspect
the main cause was sex scenes. I'm no good with sex scenes so forgive me, I'm learning
and I'm way better than I used to be but I still...ngh, need more confidence in that area.
Sex scenes aside, things are moving :)

I loved all your comments, your messages and feedback, it honestly is my bread and
butter (Except I don't eat butter) and it keeps me well hydrated and motivated for more
so really, really, thank you all :)
Holidays soon on my end, work is keeping me busy but I HOPE to get one more chapter
out before the end of the year. I make no promises though, if I set a deadline, then I
really won't meet it so lets just tentatively say it's something I'd like but no worries if
that doesn't happen. The chapter will come when it comes, I have no control here
anymore.
Love you all, see you next time! Stay safe and warm (or cold depending on which side
of the hemisphere you're in. In my case, it's stay cold because it's hot here XD)
XXIX: Equo ne credite
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
Ế
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
One of the main hideouts for Wolgang Pa wasn’t actually anywhere near the penthouse
Wooyoung lived in. It was actually on the other side of town. Hidden in a residential area
mostly populated by wealthy elderly people who would never think a gang is in their
presence, the largest and most prominent faction of Wolgang Pa hides in a very well kept
house.
Hyunjin holds Jeongin’s hand as he gazes up at the intricate design of the iron gates, the
immaculately kept shrubs and the stone pathway leading towards a large, mansion-like home
with multiple floors and shining windows.
Minjun leans out of his car to hit the buzzer near the fence, he flashes a giant grin at the
camera and ducks back in as the gates open automatically to let him drive in.
There’s a more traditional fashion to this mansion than Chan’s. It’s just as large and yet it
looks more like it belongs in a different era altogether. The lawn is well kept, flowers of all
sorts grow alongside the pathways and as Minjun drives up to the entrance, they’re greeted
by a very well dressed man who opens the door for them.
Hyunjin climbs out first and keeps Jeongin close as Minjun comes out of his side of the car
and jogs around to meet them at the steps.
“Welcome to the real Wolgang Pa,” he beams as he gestures to the house.
Hyunjin is painfully aware that Minjun is still armed. That and with Jeongin in the picture, he
really doesn’t want to take any chances.
Still, it doesn’t stop him glaring as he follows Minjun to the large double doors. He keeps his
hand tight in Jeongin’s hold, fingers entwined as he wills the other to stay calm. Minjun
opens the doors and they follow him into a large foyer with a winding staircase that leads up
to the second floor landing.
From the entranceway, they can see the second floor and the hallways that lead to other
rooms. On the first floor, two hallways on either side of the staircase lead to different rooms
whilst other doors on either side of them are firmly closed and guarded by large, intimidating
looking men whom they can only assume belong to Wolgang Pa as well.
“Funny how things worked out here,” Minjun explains as he leads Jeongin and Hyunjin
upstairs. “The head of our gang is killed, his rightful heirs killed off and the little shit that
takes over is the illegitimate. More than that, he’s completely incompetent.”
He leads them down a long hallway, Hyunjin’s hand squeezes Jeongin’s as they pass several
doors. Some ajar enough that they can see men and women of all ages as they pass. Some
sitting around talking to each other, some look up curiously as they pass, others ignore them
completely.
Minjun leads them to a door right at the end of the hallway. He pushes it open and gestures to
them to walk in first.
As Hyunjin and Jeongin step in, the first thing they notice is how large the room is. Ceiling to
floor windows at the far side of the room allow a beautiful view of the untouched plains, the
grassy area around the mansion and an unfiltered view of the moon. There is a large area
right in the middle of the room with two couches facing each other, a glass coffee table
between them.
To the far left of the room is a small area that looks kind of like a stage, complete with
instruments stacked against the wall. To the right is an assortment of bookshelves stacked
with thick hardback books of various topics.
“Take a seat,” Minjun tells them.
Hyunjin glances warily at Jeongin before pulling him to sit down on one of the couches with
him. Minjun takes the other couch and faces them with a large smile.
“It’s so nice to have you both here,” he tells them and Jeongin frowns.
The man sounds like they’re having a friendly meeting over a cup of tea, not being threatened
to sit here at gunpoint.
Hyunjin glares at him and leans forward. “Cut the shit,” he snaps. “You’ve dragged us out
here, now what the fuck do you want?”
“So aggressive,” Minjun teases, his eyes flick to Jeongin and he tilts his head. “I bet you have
bruises in places no one else sees.”
Before Jeongin can even try to respond, Hyunjin clicks his fingers and drags Minjun’s gaze
back to him. “You wanted me here, now I’m here,” Hyunjin reminds him. “What do you
want?”
“You,” Minjun answers without hesitation.
He laughs at the sight of Hyunjin’s darkening expression and shakes his head.
“But since you seem reluctant to let me have you, instead I’d like to make you an offer-”
“I decline.”
“Hear me out first,” Minjun smiles, his hand raised just slightly. “I feel it’s only right you
know all the facts. Know all the angles before you make such a hasty decision that could
potentially end in your downfall.”
Jeongin sees the crease in Hyunjin’s eyebrows, the way he stills and if this were any other
situation, he’d suggest they leave right now. Everything about this place is setting Jeongin’s
anxiety on fire.
Minjun reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He starts flicking through it for a
second before setting it on a photo and sliding it across the coffee table for Hyunjin to see.
When Jeongin leans over, the first thing he sees is a shot of Chan, taken from a safe distance.
Chan is clearly unaware of the camera and seems to be on his way inside a building.
Hyunjin frowns. “The fuck is this?”
“Keep scrolling,” Minjun smiles.
Leaning over, Hyunjin flicks the photo over and there’s another shot, taken a little further
away this time of Chan walking into the building. The third photo is of the building he’s
walking into and Jeongin’s stomach drops. Chan walking into a hospital isn’t new - especially
with his own staff ending up in there fairly recently - but that particular hospital specialises in
cancers.
Jeongin looks up and it was only on his face for a moment. The feeling of surprise, the
feeling of his stomach dropping when he realises the significance of the photo but it’s just
long enough for Minjun to catch it.
“Ooh…” Minjun coos knowingly, he leans in a little closer. “Look familiar baby boy?”
Jeongin looks away and Hyunjin pushes the phone back.
“Following my boss around?” he snarls, annoyed. “What does this have to do with me?”
“Ask your boy toy,” Minjun advises, his eagle eyes watching Jeongin with an intense
renewed interest. “He knows.”
Hyunjin pauses, he turns to look at the way Jeongin is staring at his lap and frowns.
“Innie?”
Jeongin shakes his head and his hands are starting to shake. His head fogs, panic starts to
settle in his gut and he knows better than to tell this particular secret. Especially in front of
the likes of Minjun.
Hyunjin, thankfully, seems to understand that Jeongin isn’t going to say a word in front of
Minjun. Whatever it is, Jeongin is unlikely to say anything whilst they’re here.
“Anyway,” Minjun continues, a non contagious smile on his face. “Since your win in the
fight, your name has been tossed around amongst Wolgang Pa. There are a number of people
who want you in our ranks, it was a thing of beauty to watch you rip a man’s throat open with
your teeth.”
Jeongin’s eyes widen, he looks at Hyunjin in alarm.
“I’m still saying no,” Hyunjin deadpans. “And for your information, you are aware that my
boss knows a lot of people. That he’d know one in a cancer clinic isn’t surprising.”
“That’s what we thought too,” Minjun says. “But our boys have caught him around that clinic
often enough that it can’t be just a simple acquaintance or a business meeting with some old
guy dying of cancer. Given that his father has been looking haggard as of late too, what we
suspect is that Chan’s father is the one with cancer.”
“The Prime Minister?” Hyunjin snorts in disbelief. “Now I know you’re desperate.”
“It makes the most sense. The man can’t risk being seen there and Bang Chan is there too
often for it to be anything simpler than that,” Minjun reasons with a shrug. “Whatever’s
going down in there, do you really think your little restaurant is strong enough to withstand
the fallout if something really is wrong?”
Jeongin twitches and Hyunjin glances at him. It’s not the first time Jeongin has thought about
it. Actually, ever since he found out Chan was sick, he couldn’t help but think about the
consequences of his death. Chan’s power is enough to stop police sniffing around the
restaurant. His influence keeps it running and completely under the radar but without him, the
restaurant and all inside would fall to pieces.
If the police ever acquired a search warrant, it would all be over. What are the consequences
of killing as many people as they have and disposing of the evidence in all their meals? What
would happen to people like Felix and Minho? What would happen to Hyunjin? To him?
He’s thought about it a thousand times and somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that
all their lives, their freedoms are hanging on the very thin thread that is Bang Chan’s life.
“What I want is your help,” Minjun continues, unaware of Jeongin’s twitch. “Right now,
Wolgang Pa is a sad shadow of what it used to be. But it can be as great as it once was, better
even. With help from someone like you, Wolgang Pa can grow into something formidable
and stable. With you in our ranks, you’ll never have to worry about what might happen
should your safety net that is Bang Chan, ever falls.”
Jeongin twitches again and Hyunjin’s hand grips his knee. It’s like Minjun is reading
Jeongin’s mind and it sets all his nervous ticks and anxious thoughts on fire.
“You’re going to need us as much as we need you,” Minjun points out and Jeongin closes his
eyes.
He can’t tell what’s worse. Waiting for Chan to die and inevitably going down with the
restaurant or jumping ship early to join a gang.
“And what exactly do you want me to do?” Hyunjin asks, his eyes narrowed as he watches
Minjun like a hawk. “I doubt you dragged my ass all the way over here just to tell me this
shit.”
Minjun beams. “Hot and observant, be careful or you might just break my heart.”
“Be careful or I might literally do that.”
“You’re right, there is a reason I brought you here,” Minjun continues, still laughing despite
the tense atmosphere. “The truth is that most of the sharks of Wolgang Pa live right here in
this building. The golden oldies who will do anything to secure their comfortable retirement
plan - even if it means kissing Wooyoung’s ass.”
Jeongin twitches again but this time it’s at the thought of the very building they’re sitting in
being filled with Wolgang Pa’s most seasoned members. He knew this probably was the case
but he didn’t like the reminder.
“This isn’t the Wolgang Pa I was born into,” Minjun says. “It’s a shadow of what it once was.
I believe someone like you can bring it back to what it once was - maybe even make it
better.”
For a second, Jeongin expects Hyunjin to turn him down flat again. To tell him to shove his
gang up his ass and go fuck himself but Hyunjin’s silence puts an entirely new feeling of
anxiety churning Jeongin’s stomach. He glances at Hyunjin and to his horror, Hyunjin is
silent. He’s staring at Minjun as though he’s actually considering it.
“Hyun-”
“I need to take him home,” Hyunjin announces, his finger pointed at Jeongin. “Let me take
him home first. Then I’ll help you.”
Jeongin’s eyes widen and it’s the worst possible scenario in his head. The last time Hyunjin
went missing with Wolgang Pa, Jeongin almost lost his mind and Hyunjin came back bruised
and battered. Now he wants to do it again?
“Hyun-”
“Done deal,” Minjun chirps, hopping up to his feet. He jingles the car keys in his hands and
leads the way towards the door. “Come on then.”
Jeongin shoots Hyunjin a terrified look but the other isn’t looking at him. Instead he’s
grabbing the back of Jeongin’s shirt and forcing him up to stand with him. Hyunjin pushes
Jeongin towards the door and the look he shoots him is a warning.
They get back into the car, Hyunjin’s face as cold as stone the entire way. As they head back
into the middle of the city, Hyunjin leans forward from the backseat and perches his hand on
Minjun’s shoulder.
“Turn left here,” he instructs. “He’s got another place, we’ll drop him off there.”
Jeongin blinks, he’s terrified, he’s shaking and his hand is gripping the back of Hyunjin’s
shirt but does he have another place? This is the first time he’s heard of it.
Minjun hums and follows Hyunjin’s directions, guiding them away from the apartment
Jeongin shares with Hyunjin and instead towards the city centre. Jeongin looks out the
window and it’s not until they pass a familiar looking set of bars and restaurants that he
realises where Hyunjin is taking him.
“Stop here.”
Minjun pulls up and Hyunjin opens the door to get out. He reaches in, takes Jeongin’s wrist
and helps him out as well. Jeongin looks around and he recognises the apartment block
immediately: Hyunjin had taken him to Felix.
“Gimme a minute,” Hyunjin says to Minjun as he closes the door and takes Jeongin towards
the doors of the apartment block.
Minjun is still watching from his car but when they’re comfortably out of earshot, Hyunjin
stops Jeongin at the doors and turns to look at him at last.
Jeongin is shaking.
“Hyunjin,” he breathes, eyes wide and hands clutching Hyunjin’s arm as if terrified the other
will disappear again. “What are you doing?”
Hyunjin’s eyes are cold as ice, he leans in and for a terrifying moment, Jeongin is sure the
other is going to hurt him.
“Are you really not going to tell me about Chan?”
Jeongin looks down. He hadn’t told Hyunjin about him, he hadn’t told anyone. He’d kept
Chan’s secret and it’s a blessing he had because Wolgang Pa have no idea what’s wrong.
They think Prime Minister Bang is sick and it’s just as well because if they had any idea that
Chan was dying, they’d be on God’s Menu and all the staff like flies on crap.
But why hadn’t he told Hyunjin? Jeongin was sure at this point he was supposed to tell
Hyunjin everything. Yet despite that, despite knowing Hyunjin would be angry at him for
keeping anything from him, he’d done it anyway.
Why?
Hyunjin huffs and steps back. “Fine,” he says. “Keep your secrets.”
“Hyunjin don’t-” Jeongin pleads, his hands gripping Hyunjin’s arm harder. “Don’t go. What
are you doing, we don’t belong in Wolgang Pa! You told me you had no interest in joining,
what are you doing?!”
He’s panicking, he can hear himself but he can’t stop it. He can’t help it either, he’s terrified.
His arm comes around Hyunjin’s waist, fingers gripping his clothing and Jeongin looks up at
him, eyes wide and scared.
Hyunjin sighs and for a moment, that cold look on his face melts just a little.
“Innie,” he says, lowering his voice just a little as if to tell a secret. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” Jeongin answers, he didn’t even need to think about it. “But what are you-”
“Do you trust me?”
“...yes?”
Hyunjin lifts his hands up, one palm cupping either side of Jeongin’s face. His hands are
warm, holding Jeongin in a little closer as he looks him in the eye.
“Then trust that I put you here because I need you safe,” Hyunjin tells him seriously. “Trust
that I will come back to you and trust that when you text me to check up on me, I will text
back. Okay?”
Jeongin sniffs. “This isn’t like you going out with a friend, Hyunjin. This is Wolgang Pa. It’s
kkangpae.”
“Yes and it comes down to my same question: do you trust me?”
Jeongin frowns. It has nothing to do with trust and everything to do with the people that he’s
about to tangle with. But he can see a determination in Hyunjin’s eyes, one he can’t change.
He reaches up, his fingers brushing Hyunjin’s wrist as the other holds his face.
“I trust you,” he mumbles, voice wobbly and uncertain. “I trust you but you better come back
to me alive, Hyunjin. If you don’t, I’m going to hunt you down, bring you back to life and
kick your ass I swear to fucking god-”
He sees Hyunjin chuckle seconds before the other brings his face in closer for a kiss. Jeongin
clings, his hands grabbing Hyunjin’s jacket needily and no amount of how intensely he kisses
Hyunjin will quell the anxiety gnawing at his stomach.
It’s over too soon when Hyunjin pulls back and finally lets go of Jeongin’s face.
“Got your phone?” he asks with a nod to Jeongin’s pockets.
Jeongin nods slowly.
“Good, check up on me if you need. Try not to go crazy, I will come back, okay?”
It feels like a test. If it is one, it’s cruel. Jeongin is already shaking as he reluctantly lets
Hyunjin’s jacket go and lets the other take one step away from him.
“Hyunjin…”
“Just trust me,” Hyunjin says, his feet slowly walking him backwards. Back to Minjun’s car.
Jeongin sniffles, he nods and watches as Hyunjin approaches the car and instead of going in
the backseat, he goes for the front passenger seat instead. He stops, hand perched on top of
the car and looks at Jeongin. It’s unfair how perfect he looks in that moment, even battered
and bruised as he is, he’s still the most beautiful thing Jeongin’s ever seen.
“Can you stay sane for me?”
Jeongin sniffs, his entire body is shaking but he manages a small nod.
“I’ll try…”
With one more smile, Hyunjin opens the door and heads into the car. Jeongin watches as the
door closes and Minjun says something before the car takes off down the road.
Jeongin’s stomach is in knots, his legs are shaking, worry plagues his mind and it takes him a
moment to breathe and remember to hit the call button for Felix’s apartment. He buzzes once
and when no answer comes, he tries again. Relief floods through him when the speaker
buzzes and Felix’s confused face appears on the little screen next to the speaker.
“Innie?”
“Yeah,” Jeongin sniffles. “Can I come up?”
The door clicks and Jeongin nods as he heads inside. He takes the elevator up to Felix’s floor
and when the doors open, Felix is already in the hallway waiting for him.
Felix, dressed in a white pullover hoodie and black shorts, looks over Jeongin in confusion.
“Where’s Hyunjin?”
Jeongin doesn’t cry. He feels like he’s going to but he doesn’t. Instead what he does is sink
into Felix’s arms and bury his face in Felix’s shoulder. He holds him tight until his anxiety
ebbs just a little and the knots in his stomach relax. Felix rubs his back and as he takes
Jeongin inside, Jeongin braces himself for the next few hours.
It’s never been so difficult to trust Hyunjin.
In the light of the earliest morning rays, the dew drops on the leaves of plants and the glass of
windows cast a fresh scent in the air. Jisung hops out of his uber and takes the stairs two at a
time with a joy akin to an overexcited child on Christmas morning.
He feels a little like it.

One thing Jisung is painfully, painfully aware of is that his parents - whilst absent - are not
what he’d necessarily call ‘bad parents’. It’s no secret at all that both of Jisung’s parents are
busy people with multiple ventures, charity commissions and businesses around the world.
They are a classic example of an arranged marriage that made things work - not with love but
with compromises.
Love is not something Jisung was ever raised with, nor was he ever given a good example of
what love was. His parents didn’t dislike each other, they just didn’t like each other. They
nothinged each other and that much was blatantly clear to Jisung all his life. He had a mother
and he had a father and the only time he ever saw them together was when they both came
together to do their duty for a family reputation Jisung never cared about.
Last night, whilst talking to his father he was reminded - not for the first time - just how
different he turned out to be from both his parents. His parents who had countless affairs all
over the world, who found affection for a few hours in a strangers arms. His parents who had
both been raised to squash every notion of love as something that didn’t exist and here he
was, their son who loved with every inch of his beating heart.
He did wonder if perhaps he’d been swapped in the hospital and somewhere out there was
their real son who held a view just as jaded and pessimistic as they did.
Whether that is the case or not, one thing remains dreadfully certain to him and that is that he
will not be them. Not this time. He’d found heaven again in Minho’s arms and after so long
away from him, he doesn’t intend to let the same thing happen again. He’ll move back in,
he’ll be with him again and right now, it’s the only thing in the world that makes sense to
him.
Lee Minho will always make sense to him.
He’d made a promise to come for him before he opened his eyes and Jisung grins as he sees
the early morning rays penetrating the apartment walls, waking its sleepy residents.
He heads quietly into Minho’s apartment and closes the door behind himself with the quietest
snap. He’ll kiss him awake, he’ll be the very first thing Minho sees when he opens his eyes
and they’ll be together again.
He’s in such a state of excitement that he doesn’t notice how unusually silent the apartment
is. He doesn’t realise he can’t hear the cats meowing as they usually would at the sight of
him, at least one of them would have noticed him and come for him but as he walks through
the hallway, the apartment is deathly silent.
It’s not until he walks into their bedroom that he finally realises something is wrong.
The bed is empty, still made, Minho hasn’t touched it. The cats are gone, he’s gone and all
that’s left is a note on the end of the bed.
‘I’m sorry. I can’t do this. - Minho’

-
When Changbin was a child, he was once taken to stay with his grandmother for a week. He
always hated her mansion, it was way out in the middle of nowhere. A large, haunted, windy
mansion with too many rooms, too many long corridors and too many spiderwebs.
His grandmother was not the socialite his parents were. She may have been so in her younger
years but as age caught up with her, she chose to spend more time at home enjoying the
wealth she’d fought to maintain and uphold all her life.
His grandfather had died before Changbin was born and his grandmother lived alone with a
small collection of staff - a result of her paranoia and dementia, she kept firing maids she
suspected stole her precious jewels and because of that, she didn’t have a lot of them left.
But Changbin remembers one thing rather vividly. He remembers staring at his grandmother
across the living room. It was one of her good days - a rare day when she remembered who
he was. She was talking to him about her childhood, all the responsibilities and duties she’d
been raised to undertake. He remembers watching the light in her eyes, the frayed edges of
her sanity.
Something had happened to her in her younger years. He had no way of knowing what but
something horrible had happened to her. Like a well-bred upper class daughter, she’d done
exactly what he would be later taught to do - swallow down all the pain and continue with a
face of steel.
But the trauma lingered. It lingered and slowly ate at her mind because she wasn’t dealing
with it. She’d never dealt with it.
Now, at 72 years old, she was losing her mind and Changbin could see it happening.
He remembers quite well how she’d go from speaking to him in a soft voice, talking to him
about her childhood and suddenly something would snap. Something would disappear in her
eyes and she wouldn’t be her anymore, she’d be a shell of herself. Something else entirely.
Now as an adult, standing across the room and watching Jung Wooyoung, Changbin
recognises that same light in his eyes vanish when his frayed sanity ebbs just a little more out
of his grasp.
Wooyoung had tried to deal with the cards he’d been dealt but as anyone could have
predicted, being the head of Wolgang Pa was simply too much for him to take on. Wooyoung
was human, more than that he was empathetic. He cared deeply for things that a lot of people
in his world wouldn’t. He cared about abused and trafficked little children, he cried after
every single meeting with the scum of the earth and a little piece of him died every time he
signed a contract agreeing to something that would ruin lives just to put more money in the
pockets of the people he hated most.
He was falling apart and even Changbin’s best efforts to keep him afloat were failing. He
could see it before his eyes, Wooyoung was like glass that had shattered and been
meticulously, carefully put together. On the outside, he looked whole again but anyone who
knew him well enough could see he was hanging on by a very, very thin thread.
Dark circles under Wooyoung’s eyes change his entire face. He looks exhausted as he comes
out of his room to face Changbin. Hovering behind him, San looks worried and Changbin
isn’t surprised.
It doesn’t take a genius to see that Wooyoung is on the verge of cracking.
“Lovey,” Wooyoung says, his voice soft as he approaches Changbin. “You said you wanted to
talk to me?”
Changbin reaches a hand up to hold Wooyoung’s shoulder. The other has lost weight, he can
feel hard bone underneath his clothing and glances over at San to see the other shaking his
head. Wooyoung isn’t eating.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to San,” Changbin admits quietly. “Woo, when was the last time
you ate?”
“M’not hungry.”
“Woo-”
“If you’re not here for me, I’ll leave you two alone,” Wooyoung cuts in with a dismissive
wave of his hand.
Changbin watches as Wooyoung heads into his bedroom. He slams the door behind himself
and Changbin turns to look at San who looks just as worried.
He should have seen this coming. They all should have seen it coming that Wooyoung would
never be able to deal with the position he was thrust in but for a while there, Changbin had
honestly seen some chance. Some hope that Wooyoung would be able to deal with this - and
he had been able to at the start…but not long term.
Changbin points to Wooyoung’s bedroom door and looks San in the eye. “You need to make
him eat.”
“I’m trying,” San frowns. “He can’t keep anything down anymore, I’m on the verge of
having a mental breakdown because of it.”
“Well bring in a doctor,” Changbin suggests. “I know this is hard but he can’t be allowed to
fall apart like this-”
“If we try to push him any further, I’m legitimately afraid he’ll jump off the nearest balcony,
Bin,” San argues, Changbin can see desperation in his eyes and the other is just as lost. “He’s
severely depressed-”
“I know, but he can’t be. He can’t fall apart like this.”
“Oh, well I’ll just tell him to stop being depressed and he’ll perk right up then!” San scoffs.
“You know better than this, Changbin.”
Changbin takes a deep breath and glances at the bedroom door. If a solution to this problem
was so easy, he’d have thought of it already. Wooyoung is falling apart and no amount of
efforts from him, Chan or San are enough to save him - but if he leaves the seat of the head of
Wolgang Pa, who would take his place? What would the ramifications of a new leader have
on Gods Menu? On their relationship with Wolgang Pa?
Too many uncertainties and most of the probabilities are too horrible to think about.
It would be naive to think that Wolgang Pa would simply leave them alone if they were
fronted by someone new. No, they have a relationship with them now. Wolgang Pa know
about them now and the only thing that stops them from fully attacking is Wooyoung’s
precarious hold over them.
Even then…
“I need to talk to you about your brother,” Changbin says, turning to look at San. “He’s
recruiting my staff, I want him to stop.”
“Recruiting?” San frowns, genuinely confused. “Why would he-?”
“I don’t know but he is not allowed to touch any of the staff at God’s Menu. That was the
deal,” Changbin says, cutting him off firmly. “You were there when the deal was made, your
brother wasn’t. I need you to warn him off.”
“How do you know he’s recruiting your staff?” San asks, his arms folded against his chest in
what Changbin can only describe is a defensive stance.
“Because he took one in the dead of night and threw him in a fighting pit,” Changbin
explains calmly. “You know about those pits right? The ones where they fight to the death?
We’re lucky that the staff member in question fights like a savage or this conversation would
be going very differently.”
“But how do you know it was Minjun-”
“San,” Changbin cuts him off again. “I know this is your brother and you’re protective over
him but trust me, it’s him. Not only is he the one who took one of my staff and threw him in a
fighting pit, he’s also been hanging around God’s Menu and harassing another of my staff.
Tell him to stop or I’ll stop him myself.”
San curls in on himself a little and Changbin isn’t surprised. From the little he’s gathered, San
loves his brother - has always loved his brother. Having him back must have made him happy
but to hear he’s doing this shit…it can’t be easy.
“Minjun is just as invested in keeping Wolgang Pa alive as we are,” San explains carefully.
“He has nothing against Wooyoung-”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Changbin argues. “He loves you, maybe. But he doesn’t
feel anything for Wooyoung, his stance on Wooyoung is the same as everyone else’s, he’d
have preferred one of his older siblings-”
“You don’t know him!”
“And you’re deliberately ignoring every red flag that guy walks around with!”
San shrinks a little more. Changbin can tell he’s getting through to him, there must have been
some doubt in San’s mind about his own brother. Hard as it may be to accept or swallow,
Minjun’s main priority is the gang. He doesn’t care about Wooyoung and in fact, his opinion
on Wooyoung is the same as most - the illegitimate upstart who should have never sat on the
throne of Wolgang Pa.
If he dies tomorrow, they’ll be celebrating it.
Changbin sighs. “San, I know he’s your brother but tell him to back off. If he doesn’t, I’ll
deal with him personally regardless of your relationship with him. I’m giving you one chance
to deal with him yourself.”
It’s a courtesy. A kindness. Changbin could have tracked Minjun down himself, he could
have raised hell to get rid of him but the only thing that’s stopping him is San. The fact that
he likes San, respects him enough to give him a chance to deal with his own brother himself.
It may be a mistake but at the very least, Changbin feels he owes San this much.
San nods slowly, he looks down and for a moment Changbin thinks he’s about to start crying.
After all, San’s been up with Wooyoung, trying like hell to keep him sane, it’s wearing down
on him.
“Bin,” San mumbles quietly. “Woo is falling apart and I can’t do anything about it. I’m the
one who put him there and every time I close my eyes, every time I leave him alone, I worry
that I’ll find him one day hanging from the ceiling.”
“That won’t happen,” Changbin says, almost an automatic reaction. “It won’t happen. We
won’t let it.”
“But it’s not up to us, is it?” San squeaks, his eyes filled with tears as he looks at Changbin.
“We can’t keep watching him 24/7.”
Changbin deflates and he knows it’s true. They can’t watch him all the time, especially not
because Changbin has other things to worry about. Felix, Chan, God’s Menu, he has other
things that need his attention.
Still, the thought of losing Wooyoung hits him harder than he realises it would. Perhaps
Wooyoung is his friend after all. Maybe he likes him more than he thought he did.
San sniffs. “Sometimes I think we were happier back then,” he mumbles. “When I knew he’d
die if his father ever died…but Wooyoung smiled more then. He was fine with it. So long as
he could live in his sheltered bubble, be protected by his father, never have to deal with
Wolgang Pa, he was happy. I did this to him.”
“Hey, don’t do this to yourself,” Changbin frowns. He takes San’s shoulder and holds it tight.
“You knew that if his father ever died, Wooyoung would too and that’s why you did this. You
were protecting him.”
“And in doing so, I may have just killed him,” San sniffs, a few tears streaking down his
cheeks at the thought. “I’ll deal with my brother soon, I promise. Let me look after Woo
today, I can’t leave him alone.”
Changbin takes a deep breath. He doesn’t see why not. As far as he’s aware, Hyunjin and
Jeongin are safe in their own apartment, Minjun hasn’t made any moves yet, it should be fine
for now. That and he is worried about Wooyoung, maybe San staying with him just a little
longer will help.
“Okay, but deal with him soon.”
“I will,” San promises.
He heads back into Wooyoung’s bedroom and as he does, Changbin is left with a strange
feeling in his gut.
The last time he had this feeling was right before his grandmother died and the weight of her
legacy, her responsibilities and burdens fell upon his father and himself as well. It’s a
foreboding feeling and it puts him on edge.
The feeling lingers long after he leaves.
The drama on the screen plays at a reduced volume. Jeongin hugs a pillow to his chest and
pulls his feet up onto the couch as he reads the subtitles. He can hear Felix clattering about in
the kitchen and as the main character on the screen sings about the different powers her
family members have.
As Felix comes into the living room with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, Jeongin
moves to make space and watches the main character reluctantly admit that despite everyone
else receiving powers, she was the only one who didn’t get one.
“What power would you want?” he asks as Felix settles in next to him and hands him one of
the drinks.
Felix snorts. “Well I know which one I wouldn’t want.”

“Which one?”
“That girl whose hearing is so good she can hear a pin drop. Can you imagine what she must
hear? All those kids were born somehow and she hears all of it.”
Jeongin giggles at the thought.
He hadn’t told Felix about Hyunjin or about the gang. He didn’t know where to start and
Felix, once he figured out Jeongin wasn’t going to tell him anything, stopped asking and
instead offered a movie and hot chocolate - which sounded infinitely better than worrying
about Hyunjin.
He knows Felix is still curious, wondering why he’s here and not at home with Hyunjin but
Jeongin honestly doesn’t know where to start. He doesn’t know what Hyunjin is doing - only
that the other told him to trust him.
Trust that whatever he’s doing isn’t as idiotic as going out in the middle of the night and
getting himself kidnapped and almost killed by the very same gangsters he’s hanging out with
at this very moment.
Thank god for Felix. Thank god Hyunjin had thought ahead and dropped him off here. Home
wasn’t safe, not with Wolgang Pa still sniffing about and if he was alone, he’d have spent the
entire time going insane with worry. At least Felix knows how to distract him even if he
doesn’t exactly know the reason for it.
“Talking to animals could be cool,” Felix says after a moment of thinking it through. “And
turning into other people. I could turn into Chan and take some of his responsibilities for him
while he rests.”
Jeongin starts at the mention of Chan. Chan whose secret he’s still keeping, even from
Hyunjin.
He glances at Felix. The other would be heartbroken to know what’s happening to Chan. If
word got out that he was dying, if everyone knew, what would happen? Felix would be
inconsolable, Jisung and Changbin would be lost and Minho…
Minho already knows. He’d spent days crying, unable to tell Jisung anything and even now
Jeongin can see his relationship with Chan is strained because of what he knows. Jeongin had
noticed it before, the way Minho looked at Chan sometimes when he thought no one else
would notice. But it changed from simple concern to Minho being terrified that each glance
at Chan would be his last.
If everyone started doing that to Chan…
Jeongin knows why Chan hasn’t told anyone yet but eventually, he’s going to have to. It’s
going to be horrible for most of them, the uncertainty about God’s Menu, about all of them,
about the bodies under the restaurant - Chan really is the only one stopping them from being
investigated.
Then there’s his father. If Chan’s father knew his son was dying, what would happen?
“Innie?”
Jeongin starts, belatedly realising Felix is looking at him as if he’s just asked a question.
“What?”
Felix chuckles. “I was just asking if you wanted to watch something else? You know, to take
your mind off whatever you’re not telling me?”
Jeongin blinks. He’s not telling Felix a lot. He’s not telling him about Chan and he’s
definitely not telling him what Hyunjin is probably doing right at this very moment. He’s also
not telling him how insanely difficult it is to trust that Hyunjin isn’t just going to turn up
somewhere dead, that he isn’t an idiot who signed his own death warrant when he went along
with whatever Minjun wanted him for.
To say there’s a bit on his mind would be a severe understatement.
Like before, Jeongin can feel panic rising in the back of his mind as he grabs his phone and
shoots a quick message to Hyunjin to ask him what he’s doing.
“Innie?”
“I’m fine,” Jeongin promises him in the least convincing voice he’s ever heard himself utter
before. “I’m…I need something distracting.”
“Okay,” Felix picks the remote up and looks through the movie selection. “Um…how about
comedy?”
“Never works.”
“Romance?”
“Nope.”
“Horror?”
“No.”
“Action?” Felix flicks through the list of Marvel movies on his screen. “Hawkeye? Thor?
Iron Man? Ragnarok?”
Jeongin has to take deep breaths. His hand is clenching the couch and he’s trying to keep
himself in check. The last time he felt this way, he’d hallucinated Hyunjin in the kitchen, he
can’t lose it again. He has to stay sane.
“Innie. Innie, look at me.”
Jeongin’s head is so loud. All he can hear is screaming and he’s not sure if it’s his own or just
the voices in his head. He puts his hot chocolate down and tries to breathe through it but it
just gets louder and louder until at last, two warm hands cup both his cheeks and force his
eyes open.
Felix is sitting very, very close to him. Both hands on Jeongin’s face, holding him in place as
he looks right into his eyes.
“Breathe with me, Innie,” Felix says, slowly and firmly. “In and out, follow my breathing,
okay? In and out.”
Jeongin’s left hand is still holding on to the couch cushion, desperately gripping it for sanity.
His other is gripping Felix’s jacket and he has to force himself to breathe. Just like Felix, he
watches the steady rise and fall of his chest and copies just as he does.
Slowly, the voices start to quiet down. They don’t go away completely but they do get quiet
enough for Jeongin to be able to think again.
Felix frowns. Jeongin can see he wants to ask about Hyunjin, he wants to ask what’s going on
but he doesn’t. The question doesn’t exit his lips and Jeongin loves him for it. He’s not sure
he can handle thinking about it.
His phone pings and he feels the remnants of his anxiety ease up at the sight of Hyunjin’s
message.
Hyune: still here innie. it’s ok
He heaves a deep sigh of relief and leans in to bury his face in Felix’s chest.
“On second thought,” he says, his voice slightly muffled by Felix’s shirt. “Let’s watch
something loud. Play it louder than the voices in my head.”
“You got it,” Felix beams.
He turns the movie on, dims the lights and grabs a blanket to throw over them both. On the
couch, Jeongin leans into Felix and rests his head on his shoulder as his phone buzzes again.
Hyune: trust me
Jeongin holds onto Felix and forces himself to focus on the movie. Focus, don’t lose control,
don’t black out.
Because if he does, Felix will be the one in danger.
-
“It’s bullshit,” Jisung says, shaking the note for the millionth time in Chan’s face as the other
looks around the apartment. “It’s bullshit!”
“I know it’s bullshit, Hannie, stop waving that thing at me,” Chan hisses with a swipe of his
hand.
It had taken all of two minutes for Jisung to come out of his shocked stupor and think about
doing something. He tried calling Minho but his phone was disconnected. He called
Changbin but the other wasn’t answering so he called Chan.
Chan points to the note he’d batted away. “That’s his handwriting?”
“Yes, but you know he wouldn’t do this,” Jisung frowns. “It’s-”
“Bullshit, yes I know.”
The first thing they’d done is check what was taken - aside from Minho and the cats. All his
clothes were left behind, the cat food hadn’t been touched, the fridge was left alone, the
pantry too. The only thing that was missing was his shoes.
“Did something happen?” Chan asks, he’s mostly talking to himself but he can hear Jisung
trailing along behind him. “Something that might have made him-”
“I dropped him off here last night but he had no reason to run. You know he wouldn’t have
done that to me!” Jisung points out, almost desperate. Minho couldn’t have done this to him,
they were together all of yesterday, they were just getting better, he couldn’t have turned
around and fled.
Even if he had, where the hell could he have gone? Jisung and Chan know better than most
that Minho doesn’t have anyone else, he doesn’t have family, his only friends are the ones in
God’s Menu.
“Minho said someone was after him,” Jisung says as Chan stands back up and turns to look at
him. “Someone tried to attack him the other day and that’s when he ran into that gangster.
The one who’d been hanging around him?”
“Choi something,” Chan recalls with a small frown.
“Maybe he did this.”
Chan nods slowly and there’s something in his eyes Jisung recognises. He knows something
else.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Chan, what do you know?”
The note in Jisung’s hand burns his skin. Jisung is panicked, worried and desperate as he
walks right up to Chan and looks him in the eye.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” Chan assures him. “But if he is behind this, you can’t expect him to just hand
Minho over if you ask him nicely.”
“I have no intention of asking him nicely! If he did this, I’m storming in there to get Minho
back-”
“Yeah that’s a quick way to get yourself killed,” Chan frowns. “You’re doing nothing of the
sort, you hear me? If this is connected to him, you don’t get involved at all. Promise me that.”
“What are you, my father?!” Jisung splutters, suddenly filled with rage as he shoves the note
in his pocket and storms up to Chan. “If this has anything to do with that puffed up gangster,
I’m going to rip his tongue out and shove it up his own ass!”
“If you take one step into Wolgang Pa grounds with any intention to hurt any of them, you’re
going to be riddled with holes before you can even make one move,” Chan warns with a
frown. “I get you’re angry, but we don’t even know if they’re the ones that did this.”
“Who else could it be?!” Jisung screams in frustration. “That guy has been hanging around
Minho like a fucking bad smell-”
“And if it was him, do you really think he’d let Minho take his cats?” Chan argues, his finger
pointing at the empty cat bowls. “Do you really think he’d leave this apartment untouched? It
doesn’t add up, Hannie.”
Jisung fumes. He hates admitting it when Chan has a point but Chan does have a point.
Minjun is a gangster and if he had done this, he probably would not have come alone. Even if
he would only take Minho, anyone he brought with him would have thought to clear the
apartment too. At least to sell off some valuables and make some cash.
“He’s the only lead I have,” Jisung says after a moment of quietly fuming to himself. “He is
the only one who has been hanging around Minho. I’ll bet he’s even the one who tried to
scare him the other day with that attack.”
Chan takes a step back and looks around the apartment worriedly. He knows Minho couldn’t
have done this but Minjun is just as unlikely. As a Wolgang Pa kkangpae, it’s just not his
style at all. He’d be loud about it, he’d even boast about it, he wouldn’t quietly snatch Minho
and make him write a note.
His gut is telling him someone else did this, the problem is he just can’t figure out who.
“I’ll make some calls,” Chan says as he pulls his phone out. With his other hand, he points to
Jisung. “And you’re coming with me. I don’t trust you to go out trying to look for him and
get yourself killed in the process.”
Jisung glares but he doesn’t argue. He follows Chan out of the apartment and at the door, he
pauses and turns to take one last look.
Minho wouldn’t have left him. That much he knows for sure. But anxiety pulls at his stomach
at the thought of where Minho is right now, what’s happening to him and who might have
him.
If it’s Minjun, Jisung silently vows to himself, he’ll tear his fucking throat open.
The day drags on far longer than it has any right to be. Felix and Jeongin tear through movie
after movie. They eat through his entire pantry and Jeongin has three more panic attacks but
they somehow get through it.
By the time the moon is high in the sky and night has finally blanketed the city in darkness,
Jeongin is asleep on Felix’s couch and Felix is looking over the messages on his phone
worriedly.
Hyunjin keeps telling him things are fine but won’t give him details. Chan, Changbin and
Jisung are busy because Minho’s gone missing and Seungmin isn’t answering his phone at all
but that’s normal for him.
Felix pulls the blanket over Jeongin’s sleeping form and watches over him worriedly. He’s
never really felt unsafe around the other. He knows Jeongin is capable of murder and he
knows that whatever happened to him recently knocked out any sense of empathy he might
have had before but he’s never felt like Jeongin could really ever cause him any harm.
Even now when he knows that if Jeongin ever blacks out again, he probably won’t remember
who Felix is.
He brushes Jeongin’s hair out of his face and gets up to clean away the empty chip packets,
half eaten bowls and glasses they left around the living room. As he clears away the last of it,
a knock on his door startles him.
Jeongin is still fast asleep. Felix skitters quietly out of the room and to his front door. He
opens, his breath catching in his throat when he finds Hyunjin - unscathed, unharmed -
standing on the other side alone.
“Fucks sake,” Felix nearly wheezes as he comes out into the hallway and closes the door
behind him. “Where the fuck have you been?!”
Hyunjin is wearing a black leather jacket about two sizes bigger than he is. Felix has never
seen him wear it before, he’s also dressed in a white shirt, black jeans and boots. Aside from
the leftover scars and bruises from his last fight, he looks relatively unharmed. Tired,
perhaps, but otherwise alright.
Hyunjin nods to the door. “Is he alright?”
“He’s asleep which is why I’m whispering,” Felix hisses. “Where have you been?! And
before you tell me some bullshit story about how you were at home or fine, I know for a fact
that that’s not true, so don’t even try lying to me!”
Hyunjin fixes him with a dull, bored stare. “Okay. I wasn’t at home.”
“Hyunjin!”
“I had shit to do,” Hyunjin shrugs. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to explain why I just spent the whole day trying to calm Innie down!”
Hyunjin sighs and averts his eyes. Jeongin had gotten away with not telling Felix anything all
day but Hyunjin isn’t afforded that luxury. Felix stares at Hyunjin and something horrible in
the back of his head is telling him Hyunjin was doing something they’d all disapprove of.
“Did you go back to that fight hall?”
“No.”
“Then what?!”
“Lix,” Hyunjin holds up his hand, as if to tell Felix to stop hissing at him. “This is one of
those times when I really need you to mind your own business. Thank you for looking after
Innie, but I had shit to do today and it’s really not your business.”
Felix huffs. “It is if it had anything to do with Wolgang Pa!”
He doesn’t even realise he’s screaming. Not until Hyunjin’s hand suddenly clamps over his
mouth. His back hits the wall and suddenly Hyunjin’s pressing him to it, one hand over his
mouth, the other over his arm as if to stop him from even trying to hit him. Hyunjin glances
down the hall but none of the other tenants seem interested enough to come out and
investigate any noise they might have heard.
Just as well.
No one is in the hallway. No one witnesses the way Hyunjin leans in until his mouth is near
Felix’s ear. No one hears him whispering to Felix, his hand on Felix’s arm loosening as he
talks quietly to him. No one sees Felix’s eyes widen, his free hand grabbing Hyunjin’s jacket
as if to stop himself falling.
Slowly, Hyunjin pulls back. He lets Felix go and watches Felix’s wide eyes staring at him in
shock and horror. His eyes are brimming with tears, perhaps a little pink around the edges as
the full force of what Hyunjin just told him hits him hard.
Hyunjin leaves him there. He walks past him and opens the front door to walk into his
apartment and as he does, Felix stares at the wall ahead of him. He can’t breathe, his entire
body is stunned and he barely notices it when Hyunjin walks back out with an unconscious
Jeongin in his arms.
“Lix.”
Felix looks up, Hyunjin is carrying Jeongin in bridal style. His cold eyes look over Felix but
for a moment, just a moment, they soften. Perhaps in pity.
“Are you sure?” Felix asks, his voice comes out like a scared whisper and he belatedly
realises he’s already shaking. If he weren’t leaning against the wall, he’d have fainted by
now. “Are…are you really sure?”
“I’m certain,” Hyunjin tells him. “Innie’s been keeping it from me…I’ve got a feeling Minho
knows too-”
“But-”
“Lix, he’s sick all the time and it’s not just because he’s tired,” Hyunjin sighs. “Wolgang Pa
thinks his father is the one with cancer but they haven’t seen Chan chugging painkillers
everyday. Minho wouldn’t have gotten that upset if it was something small. I can connect the
dots and so can you. Chan is dying.”
The words hang in the air like a heavy dark cloud. Felix’s knees start to shake and he feels
tears slipping down onto his cheeks but he’s too stunned to cry aloud. He just stares ahead,
numb and shaking all at once.
There’s nothing more Hyunjin can do for him. Nothing he can say so he walks ahead and
leaves with Jeongin in his arms. Felix listens to his fading steps, the sound of the elevator bell
and when they’re finally gone, that’s when Felix finally sinks down to sit on the well-worn
hallway carpet.
One breath, two, there’s a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes. His hands grip the carpet
and he’s shaking so hard but he can’t breathe. He can hear his hitched, struggling breaths in
his ears, like it’s someone else not him.
But it is him and when Felix finally gasps long enough for the air to flow into his lungs, he
lets it out with an ear-piercing, heartbroken scream.
The light of the morning finds Chan sleeping on his desk. As the earliest peeks of morning
sunshine filter in through his tiny office beside God’s Menu, it gently warms the side of
Chan’s cheek.
Snoring on the armchair, Jisung’s exhausted figure is slumped in a seriously uncomfortable

position.
They’d spent the entire day looking for any sign, any clue of Minho. Chan’s contacts reached
far and wide, they included some people around Wolgang Pa, subtle contacts in the police
and the security guards watching over Minho’s apartment block - but none had turned up any
answers.
No one had seen Minho, no one knew where he was and it had now officially been 24 hours
since his disappearance.
It had taken all of Chan’s energy to stop Jisung from rushing out to bang on Wolgang Pa’s
door. By then, Changbin had joined the search and went out on foot to ask some of his own
contacts. But Jisung had to stay with Chan - just to make sure he didn’t go out and get
himself killed.
A sudden bang at the door wakes both Chan and Jisung up. Both sit up, their eyes blinking
away sleep as the door opens and Changbin comes in hurriedly.
Jisung groans and stretches, his back popping as bones slip back into place and Chan rubs
drool away from his desk as Changbin hurries towards him, phone in hand.
“Anything?”
Changbin pulls his phone up. “You’re gonna want to see this,” he says. “You too Han, come
here.”
Jisung springs up from the chair and comes around the desk to watch as Changbin shows
them the website. Chan recognises the site and frowns in confusion.
“My father?” he asks. “What about him?”
“Look,” Changbin says as his finger opens a link on Prime Minister Bang’s website.
There, under the page dedicated to his team, his newest team member appears on a video.
Chan recognises the room, it’s his father’s study back in Seoul. The mahogany desk, the
expensive pen, the sickeningly patriotic background. It’s where he films all his propaganda
videos for the public.
But he’s not sitting in the chair this time. The name appearing underneath reads Lee Minho
and sitting in the chair, Minho is dressed in a crisp black suit complete with a white shirt and
silky black tie. His hair is combed back, eyes are cold, hard and unreadable as he addresses
his audience.
“Hello, my name is Lee Minho, I am Prime Minister Bang’s newest secretary,” he says in a
level tone. “As the youngest member of his team, my goal is to appeal to the people of my
own generation and convince them that voting for Prime Minister Bang as their future
President is in their best interests-”
“Minho,” Jisung breathes in disbelief. “What happened to you?”
Chan doesn’t say anything. He can’t. He takes one look at Minho’s attire, at the look in his
eyes, the forced words tumbling from his mouth and in one second, he understands
everything. It was his father who sent someone after Minho and it was his father who had
taken him away.
It reminds Chan of when he was much, much younger. When his father used horrible
methods to keep his son in line. If Chan ever got attached to anything his father didn’t
approve of, his father used to simply take it off him.
A favourite toy? Gone because it made Chan ‘soft’.
A friend? Gone because Chan made friends with the ‘wrong people’.
A pet? Gone because Chan had ‘more important things to care for’.
Now Minho. His father had taken one look at him, recognised the threat he posed and took
him off Chan. Just like everything else.
Minho’s eyes are devoid of emotion. They stare straight through the screen.
“For the future,” he says. “Vote for Prime Minister Bang.”
Chapter End Notes
Happy New Year my lovely readers! I've missed you all and I hope you all managed to
enter 2022 safely and with little to no dramas or hiccups.
First of all thank you all for being SO patient with me. You can tell we're almost at the
end of this massive fic because it's taking every ounce of energy I have to write it. The
closer we get to the end, the harder it is for me to write so really, thank you all for your
love and patience it means more than you know ;)
In other news, we ARE very close to the end of the story! I make no promises but I
predict it'll take about two to three chapters more, I'm going to miss it but at the same
time I am eager to have it done because it really does demand so much energy so lets
pray that my new work schedule doesn't throw off writing too much. This chapter, whilst
it does cover some very important points, is very much a filler compared to what's
happening in the next chapter :)
Love you guys! See you next time!

XXX: Lege atque lacrima
Chapter Notes
Brace yourselves.
Also small warning for homophobic language used in this chapter.

SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
Some of Jeongin’s worst memories are of the asylum.
Despite the horrors of his life outside of the silent, padded walls, Jeongin’s memories of the
asylum were much worse. The masked doctors, the needles, the straitjackets and the helpless
feeling of constant vulnerability accumulated to the stress and anxiety he felt when stripped
of any choice or freewill.
He can see his legs in the white cotton of the asylum uniform. Kicking as he’s dragged down
the hallway by two nurses and a doctor.
“What did he do this time?”
“Bit another patient, sir.”
“That’s the fifth time. Put the muzzle on him.”
Jeongin thrashes as hard as he can but it’s hard with his arms bound in the straitjacket. It had
happened in the breakfast hall. Jeongin had spent the entire night prior in the isolation room
and the nurse on call never bothered feeding the patients in isolation. So he’d gone an entire
night starving, half out of his mind as he screamed in the padded room he’d been thrown into.
Then he’d been dragged out this morning and put in the breakfast hall where Patient B40 - a
crazy man in his 40’s who believed everything he saw belonged to him naturally - tried to
take his food.
So Jeongin bit him and he was immediately put back in the straitjacket.
He has bitter memories of being dragged away whilst Patient B40, having wailed and
screamed about being bitten, was now eating his breakfast and smiling as Jeongin was
dragged off.
He’s thrown back into the padded room. Jeongin is pulled up into a sitting position and
before he even has the chance to fight, a muzzle is placed over his mouth. His screams come
out muffled, eyes red with tears of frustration leaking out as he stares up at the nurses and the
doctor.
None of them care.
“Twelve hours in here ought to teach him,” the doctor decrees as he walks out of the room.
Jeongin screams and with some difficulty, he manages to push himself up onto his feet. He
rushes for the door just in time to have it slammed in his face. The little window slides shut,
leaving him in complete and total darkness.
Shrieking, Jeongin throws himself against the steel door again and again and again. The steel
of the muzzle rattles against his head, his arms start to ache as his elbows and shoulders are
bashed against the door.
The worst part about isolation rooms is the silence. With no sound, there’s nothing to protect
Jeongin from his own thoughts and the longer he stays in that room, dark and silent, the
louder his thoughts become. Eventually he ends up on the floor, curled up, muzzled and
bound, letting the voices in his head consume him until there’s almost nothing left of him…
“---Innie! Innie, dammit wake up!”
Something’s holding him down, lying on top of him and Jeongin’s first instinct is to fight. His
arms, no longer bound, scratch and hit until hands grab his wrists and pin him down. Jeongin
screams and when he opens his eyes, everything is a terrifying blur and he’s sure he’s still in
that isolation room.
“Innie!”
He starts to thrash, helplessly wriggling underneath whatever’s lying on top of him in a bid to
buck it off. He hears whatever is lying on top of him grunt a little and tries moving his legs
but whatever it is, it’s sitting on him.
Jeongin’s shrieks and screams echo in the room, he’s vaguely aware of the sound of moving
blankets and sheets.
“Innie-”
“Get off!” Jeongin cries, tears already leaking down the side of his face. “Get off me!”
His wrists are being held down, whatever’s sitting on him is strong and Jeongin is about to
start full on bawling before something plugs his mouth.
At first his cries are muffled against it but then the scent hits him. A familiar scent and it’s
not disinfectant. It’s a subtle kind of wooden scent that instantly floods his brain and relaxes
it. Like his body is conditioned to the scent, it relaxes immediately. He’s suddenly aware of
the distant sound of the cicadas outside, the feel of the mattress underneath him, of Hyunjin’s
body on top of him and Hyunjin’s hands over both his wrists.
Hyunjin’s lips quiver against his and it’s the only sign Jeongin has that his nightmare rattled
Hyunjin a little. That seeing him screaming like that, thrashing on the bed, unaware of where
he was, had actually affected him.
Hyunjin pulls back and Jeongin’s eyes open to see the other leaning over him. His hair is a
mess, his eyes dark as he watches Jeongin cautiously, almost as though he’s expecting
Jeongin to start freaking out again.
Jeongin isn’t in the asylum. He’s not alone. He’s lying underneath Hyunjin and he’s safe, it’s
all he can think. Relief floods through him and before Hyunjin can ask him if he’s alright or
if he’s awake, Jeongin lifts his head up off the pillow to catch Hyunjin’s lips with his own.
The second Hyunjin’s grip on his wrists eases a little, Jeongin brings his hands up to grip
Hyunjin’s shoulders. His hands slide up to hold the back of his head and neck as his body
relaxes back onto the bed and brings Hyunjin down with him.
Hyunjin’s weight, his heat, his lips, his hands, it’s all wonderfully grounding. It’s exactly
what Jeongin needs after spending the entire day in a constant state of anxiety.
How many times had he almost blacked out and put Felix in danger? How many homicidal
thoughts had crossed Jeongin’s mind when the anxiety reached its peak? He’d been sitting on
the couch with Felix and thinking about snapping his neck, about breaking a glass and
stabbing him in the eye with the sharp edge. All these thoughts floated past the entire day and
each one had Jeongin shaking more and more.
It wasn’t because he hated Felix - on the contrary he’s pretty sure he loves him - but that
didn’t stop the thoughts from coming. If anything, it only made them worse.
All his life he’s only ever met one person who can stop them from coming.
Clinging to Hyunjin, his fingers sift through long strands of hair as he tilts his head to deepen
the kiss until the noises in his head finally get quieter and quieter. Until at long last all that’s
in his head is blissful peace and silence.
He sighs against Hyunjin’s lips and finally eases his grip enough to let Hyunjin pull back just
a little. Both are panting, Jeongin’s cheeks are red and Hyunjin’s pupils are blown out and
fully distracted.
Then Hyunjin surges down and takes his lips again. This time with intent.
Jeongin clings, his arms wrapped around Hyunjin's shoulders, his fingers clinging to hair,
skin beneath his nails. Neither are patient enough to strip and what ends up happening is they
end up bare only from the waist down. The sex this time is messy, a little desperate and
heated with Hyunjin's face in Jeongin's neck, marking his skin whilst Jeongin's moans fill the
room with each thrust. He scratches so hard he draws blood on Hyunjin's back and when
Hyunjin wrenches him up into a sitting position, Jeongin rides him like they'll die tomorrow.
Maybe they will.

He kisses Hyunjin so hard their teeth almost clack. He sucks on his tongue, swallowing his
moans as Hyunjin's hips shudder with release. Jeongin sighs and follows him into the sweet
abyss. Pleasure makes his toes curl, fogs his brain and for a blissful moment all there is in his
world is Hyunjin.
Then they lie back on the bed in each others arms, Hyunjin pulls out and Jeongin, at last,
feels calm wash over him.
“You awake?” Hyunjin finally asks, still a little breathless as he leans down to nuzzle
Jeongin’s neck with his nose. “If I’d known you’d react like this, I’d have held you down
more often.”
Jeongin chuckles, his arms settling around Hyunjin in a light embrace as he tilts his head
back to let the other nuzzle. He looks up and when he realises the ceiling isn’t the same one
as their apartment, he turns his attention to the window at the end of the room, the dresser in
the corner, the slightly ajar door and he realises with a start that he’s not in Hyunjin’s
apartment - he’s in his old room in Minji’s house.
He sits up, dragging a small noise of protest from Hyunjin as he looks around the room in
surprise.
As far as he knew, after Minji’s death, her house just stayed empty. It’s hard to sell a house
someone died in and Jeongin didn’t know what happened to it afterwards.
“Why are we here?” he asks, his eyes turning to Hyunjin.
“It’s safer,” Hyunjin explains as he climbs off Jeongin and settles in next to him. “For now
anyway.”
Safer. Jeongin shivers and looks over Hyunjin with a small frown.
“What did you do?” he asks, watching as Hyunjin lies back down and stretches his arms out
with a yawn. “You were with Wolgang Pa all day, what did you do?”
Hyunjin doesn’t answer. Instead he averts his eyes and looks at the wall until Jeongin leans
over him and grabs his face to make him look up at him.
“You left me with Felix all day. Which, by the way, was stupid because all I kept thinking
about was how much I wanted to snap his neck. The least you could do is tell me why?”
“Ah,” Hyunjin hums and shakes Jeongin’s hand off his face. “Homicidal thoughts still
present and active.”
“Hyunjin-”
“Fine,” Hyunjin sighs. “Fine. I was making a Plan B.”
Jeongin frowns, he watches Hyunjin push himself up into a sitting position and adjusts
himself to make more room. His bed in this house had never been the biggest. Back when
Hyunjin used to sneak in here to threaten him, they still had to squish on this bed.
“Plan B?”
“Yeah,” Hyunjin scratches the back of his neck and leans back against the wall. Jeongin can
see the fading bruises from the fight, the scratches that still linger and he has to wonder what
the other had to do yesterday to come back to him in one piece.
Hyunjin sighs heavily, he looks down and starts picking at the sheets. Uncharacteristic for
him, he’s usually so certain of everything he does but this time he looks almost…insecure.
“How long have you known Chan is dying?”
Jeongin jumps and Hyunjin locks eyes with him.
“I know,” Hyunjin tells him. “It’s not hard to figure it out. The man is constantly on
painkillers, Minho had a mental breakdown and you got all jumpy when you saw that picture
of him outside the clinic. None of you would be reacting like that if it was PM Bang with
cancer so it has to be him - right?”
Jeongin’s throat suddenly feels dry and scratchy. He looks down and he can’t manage more
than a small nod.
“He’s dying?” Hyunjin asks, as if to confirm his suspicions.
Again, Jeongin nods.
Hyunjin lets out a breath and he’s so hard to read. Jeongin knew that if Felix was told about
Chan, he’d break down. Same with Changbin and probably Jisung but Hyunjin is difficult to
figure out. What his feelings are towards the others, how attached he is to him. It surprises
him that Hyunjin even needs a moment to comprehend the fact that Chan is dying.
Finally, Hyunjin manages a small nod and turns his eyes back to Jeongin.
“How long have you known?”
The words tumble from Jeongin as if he were on some sort of truth serum.
“Since the wedding.”
Hyunjin nods slowly and Jeongin tenses. He’s fully aware he’d kept Hyunjin in the dark for
months on end. He’d kept this secret for a long time when he knew damn well that Hyunjin
wouldn’t tolerate secrets. He wanted to know everything Jeongin knew, he wanted to be in
his mind at all times.
But Hyunjin doesn’t snap at him. He doesn’t tie him down or do anything horrible to him.
Instead he nods.
“I get why,” he says, as if needing to explain to Jeongin why he isn’t gearing to hit him for
daring to keep a secret from him. “You respect Chan. I hate that you kept this from me but…I
get it.”
Jeongin blinks. It’s not the fact that Hyunjin isn’t going to punish him for this that surprises
him. It’s the fact that Hyunjin put into words what he couldn’t. He’d been wondering why he
kept Chan’s secret, he thought he kept it out of fear but that’s not it at all. He’s not afraid of
Chan, he respects him.
He likes him. It surprises Jeongin because he’s not exactly sure when that happened but ever
since Chan got closer to him, he hasn’t given Jeongin any reason to be afraid of him or to
hate him. Actually, all he’s done is give Jeongin more and more reasons to rely on him, trust
him and like him.
It was Chan who looked after him when his mother was dying. It was Chan who kept an eye
on him in Seoul, who looked into his past for him, who kept looking after him.
Even though he was sick and dying, Chan had kept a steady hand on Jeongin’s wellbeing and
Jeongin hadn’t thought to re-evaluate how he felt about Chan until just now.
He shifts uneasily and looks at Hyunjin. “So what’s Plan B?”
“Plan B,” Hyunjin clears his throat. “When Chan dies, God’s Menu won’t have his protection
anymore. It’s Chan’s connections that keep the police looking here and it’s Chan’s influence
that keeps suspicions at bay but the police are still looking for all those missing people.
They’re pushing against the boundaries and the second Chan dies, they’ll swarm the
restaurant.”
Jeongin flinches at the thought of his earlier nightmare coming true.
“I know you’re not keen on Wolgang Pa. Neither am I, to be honest, but it’s probably the only
place that can keep you safe when Chan dies and I’m not going to let the opportunity pass. If
the police are going to come looking and if they’re going to hunt us down, I want to make
sure something strong is standing between them and you. That’s Plan B.”
“But kkangpae?” Jeongin frowns. “Hyunjin, a gang is the last thing we need. Especially not
with a prick like Minjun-”
“Don’t worry about Minjun, I’ll deal with him,” Hyunjin tells him. “For now, the only thing I
want you to do is keep your head down and stay as calm as you can. Chan and the others are
eventually going to find out what I’m doing and I’ll deal with them when the time comes but
for now, the safest place you can be is in the restaurant.”
Jeongin’s head is spinning. On the one hand, he knows that Hyunjin is trying to make sure
they’ll still be safe after Chan dies but on the other hand his plan is insane. Jeongin wants to
ask how he plans on pulling this off but he’s scared of the answer. If Hyunjin even tells him,
that is.
“Does it have to be Wolgang Pa?”
Hyunjin shrugs. “Unless you have a better plan?”
Jeongin doesn’t. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it too. Since he learnt the truth about
Chan, all he could think of is what’s going to happen when Chan dies, it’s an unknown future
and it’s terrifying.
But the thought of joining Wolgang Pa, of being any more involved with them than they
already are…it sets all of Jeongin’s anxieties off at the same time.
He leans into Hyunjin and buries his face in his shoulder. Hyunjin’s arms come around him,
holding him close as Jeongin climbs onto his lap and curls into him. Outside, Jeongin can
hear the cries of the cicadas, the sky is still dark and morning hasn’t broken yet. He can feel it
too, his body is still tired.
Hyunjin eventually shifts and lies down with Jeongin. He pulls the blankets over them both
and adjusts himself, letting Jeongin cling to him as much as he needs. Hyunjin kisses his
forehead and strokes his hair back.
His scent, his heat, Jeongin lets it envelop his entire being. It calms the voices in his head
until they’re nothing but a quiet murmur.
“Do you trust me, Innie?” Hyunjin whispers.
Jeongin’s eyes are heavy, his body relaxing and his mind drifting off to sleep as he curls
against Hyunjin’s body. He thinks he mumbles ‘yes’ before he falls asleep but he’s
unconscious before the words leave his mouth.
Chan’s phone buzzes in his pocket relentlessly as he steps off the plane.
He steps into line with weary businessmen, each one looking about as tired as he feels as they
file dolefully out of the domestic area and into the fresh morning Seoul air. He stops just
outside the airport to check his phone, frowning when he sees three missed calls from Felix
and two messages.
Before he can check them, Jisung appears at his side looking tired but infinitely more
determined.
“So where do we find your father?” he asks as Chan puts his phone back in his pocket and
leads the way towards his waiting driver. “I have more than a few words for the bastard.”
“You aren’t talking to him at all,” Chan warns. “I’ll talk to him. The only thing I want you to
do is wait in the hotel.”
“What?!”
“Han,” Chan stops in front of the car and turns to look at him properly. “Remember who he
is. My father is powerful enough to squash you, your kids and your grandkids into the
ground. Especially if you go barging in and demanding that he give you back your
boyfriend.”
“I don’t have kids,” Jisung grumbles quietly.
“Let me deal with him,” Chan tells him. “I brought you along because you weren’t taking no
for an answer but I am not dumb enough to let you be in the same room as him. It’s
dangerous. Stay in the hotel and don’t come out until I tell you to.”
“But-”
“Han, I swear to god,” Chan says. “I will put you back on a plane to Busan so fast your head
will spin. Now will you let me deal with this and do as I say?”
For a moment, Jisung looks like he’s about to shout at Chan. But it dies down fast and all it’s
replaced with is a pout. It distantly reminds Chan of when they were younger, when Jisung
was the baby of their group and they all treated him as such. Now they’re adults and he’s still
the baby - at least amongst the original three of them.
“Fine,” Jisung eventually mutters through gritted teeth. “Minho probably isn’t with him
anyway.”
“Probably not,” Chan shrugs as he finally opens the door and lets Jisung in first.
The car pulls away and speeds towards the city. In the back, Chan and Jisung fall silent, both
watching the city as it passes by their windows. Chan glances at Jisung and he can tell by the
clench of his jaw and his fist that the other is nervous, he’s tense but there’s a determined
glint in his eye.
God help him, not much can stop Jisung when he makes up his mind like this.
The car stops first at the hotel Chan had booked. Jisung’s door opens and Chan turns to look
at him.
“Stay in there,” he tells him. “I’ll let you know when I know anything.”
Jisung shoots him a small look before reluctantly climbing out of the car. Chan can tell he’s
annoyed, he honestly can’t blame him, but it’s for the best that he’s not standing there hurling
insults at the Prime Minister. In a free country, he might have been afforded the luxury to do
that but they’ve been working for a man who gets his son to kill and serve his enemies as
food - Chan knows better.
The moment Jisung is in the hotel, Chan gives the driver the address to his father’s office.
The car pulls away and Chan pulls his phone out to see another two missed calls from Felix.
Plus one message.
Lix: chan i rlly need to talk to u
“We’re here, sir.”
Chan looks up to see the towering building just outside his car. He glances regretfully at
Felix’s name and puts his phone back in his pocket. He’ll have to call him back later.
He heads out of the car and looks up.
Chan’s father works in the tallest commercial building in Seoul - because of course he does.
Nine times out of ten, he’s not in the office but out in meetings, flying around the country.
Especially now with the elections, promotions make up for 90% of his work.
However at Chan’s request, a meeting had been arranged and Chan isn’t dumb enough to
think his father doesn’t know why he asked for this meeting.
He braces himself. His shined shoes clicking on polished floors as he walks in through the
doors and towards the elevator. People greet him on his way, each and every one of them
recognising who he is and some even jumping out of his way to give him space. As if he’s as
terrifying as his father….perhaps to them, he is.
He takes the elevator up, his hands curling into fists as he steels himself for a face to face
confrontation with his father. He’s done this so many times in his life and it never ever gets
easier.
Because despite all the secrets Chan actively keeps from his father, despite his best efforts to
branch out on his own, his father’s hold on his neck is still incredibly tight.
The doors are opened for him as he approaches. The main office is ridiculously huge with
wide windows overlooking the city. It reminds Chan vaguely of what he imagines the blue
house looking like as he spots his father sitting behind a grand desk, not unlike the one
Minho sat in front of when he introduced himself as the new secretary.
The reminder annoys Chan a little.
Chan stands at the open doors and eyes his father for a moment. The man is wearing the
same, soulless smile on his face but there’s a new glint to it. The same kind Chan used to see
when he was younger and the man had taken something off him. Proof that he’s still in
charge.
Chan glances at the guards at the door, at the woman working away at her desk and shoots a
look at his father. One his father understands.
“Leave us,” he orders.

The room clears and Chan walks in. He stops before the desk and waits until the last person
has left and the door has closed securely behind them before he chooses to speak.
“New secretary?”
His father rests his chin on his hands and watches his son. There’s no emotion on his face,
he’s well trained just like Chan to hide it.
“Is that all you came here to talk to me about?”
“You know damn well why I’d object to that,” Chan responds, tone just as unreadable. “He’s
my staff, you can’t just take someone working for me.”
“I can take anyone I please,” his father reminds him. “Especially when he’s someone who can
appeal to a generation I’m having trouble connecting with.”
“You already have a secretary-”
“And unfortunately she’s not the right age-”
“The last time you had two secretaries, you had to send out cease and desist letters because
you got them both pregnant!”
“Well that’s not going to be a problem this time,” his father tells him. “I’m not into men.
Unlike you.”
Chan narrows his eyes. His father gestures to a seat and Chan, as if conditioned, sits down.
He eyes his father carefully and he knows he’s been generally careful regarding his limited
relationships with men. It’s not like he sleeps around either, he’s had a few flings, the longest
lasting was Hongjoong and he’s always had something with Minho but it’s not like his father
had any chance to know about any of those.
“Here’s the deal, son,” his father says. “I don’t care who you fuck. I don’t care what gender
or species you fuck, it’s not my business. What I do care about is image and if I could tell that
the boy was a threat to your image, then everyone can tell and you know that’s not something
we could risk.”
Chan glares at his father. If he had it his way, if he wasn’t the son he was, he’d have long
since happily announced his sexual preferences and retired to a tiny little island where no one
could bother him. Unfortunately he was born in a world where his business is everyone’s
business - especially his father.
“Minho is not a threat,” he tells his father in a level tone. “He’s my staff member-”
“I watch you closer than you dare to imagine, Christopher,” his father reminds him. “Don’t
lie to me. That day at the hospital, it was clear as day. I won’t risk it - especially not so close
to the election-”
“So you just kidnap him?!” Chan chokes. “He’s not a fucking toy, father, he’s not something
you can just take off me!”
“I didn’t kidnap him,” his father says. “I gave him a choice.”
“Bullshit!” Chan shrieks and his emotionless mask is gone as he jumps up from his seat to
glare down at his father. “I know what this is, you’ve been doing it to me all my life. You
take things off me if you don’t approve of them but Minho is not a ‘thing’!”
“He is a threat to your marriage-”
“You know I only agreed to that because of her father’s support for your cause!” Chan glares.
“Don’t even try to pretend I actually like the girl I’m married to! And besides that, Minho
isn’t a threat to anything, least of all my marriage!”
Chan’s father fixes him with a stare that would have made him wither if he were younger.
Back when his father was taller and bigger than him, perhaps it would have made him
weaken. But he’s older now and Chan matches his stare with equal intensity.
Neither notice the door behind Chan opening. Neither hear the quiet footsteps coming
towards them. Neither take their eyes off each other until a soft, quiet voice sounds next to
Chan.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
Chan jumps, he turns to see Minho standing right next to him. Contrary to how Chan feels, to
the emotions splayed all over his face, Minho is the very picture of emotionless. He doesn’t
look at Chan and stands there in a black suit, his eyes trained on Chan’s father as though he’s
been brainwashed.
“Ah, yes,” Chan’s father speaks. “I assume you know my son.”
Minho doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even look at Chan, he just stares at Chan’s father.
“He just came here to tell me to let you go,” Chan’s father continues. “What would you
prefer, Lee? You’re free to go if you want, I’m not keeping you hostage.”
Chan hates the gloat he can hear in his father’s tone. He would glare at him but he’s too busy
staring at Minho.
“Minho,” he says, his eyes scanning Minho’s face for any sign of emotion. “Come back with
me to Busan, whatever my father has over you, I’ll deal with it.”
Minho doesn’t respond. He simply stares at Chan’s father.
“Speak your mind, Lee,” Chan’s father smiles. “Would you like to quit?”
Finally, Minho moves. His eyes flick to Chan and for the first time since Chan has met him,
Chan can’t read him. There’s no life in his eyes, no emotion. He simply turns to him and
faces him with the same stare he’d used on his father.
Then with the same soft tone, he says: “Leave.”
Chan’s eyes widen in alarm. His brain is scrambling for a reason and the only one he can
think of is that Minho can’t speak openly in front of his father. That whatever he’s holding
over him, it’s strong enough to make him act like this.
“Minho-”
“Leave,” Minho orders again, this time a little firmer. “I moved here of my own choice.
Leave.”
Chan stares at him incredulously. He turns to his father. “What did you threaten him with?!”
“It saddens me to see all my training and all my talks go to waste,” Chan’s father tells him.
“You don’t talk to me like this and you know better than to show your emotions this way. Lee
Minho clearly knows how things work better than you and that’s saying something.”
“But-”
“Mr Bang.”
For a second, Chan thinks Minho is addressing his father but when he sees Minho is facing
him, he flinches at the realisation that Minho is talking to him.
“Please leave.”
Chan stares. He turns to his father who is still looking at him with the same smile, that same
smile that reminded Chan over and over who had control here. It wasn’t him. It was never
him.
With one more look at Minho, he turns on his heels and leaves the room as quickly as he’d
entered. As the doors swing shut behind him he can hear his father speaking to Minho.
“Nicely done. You can go back to your desk now.”
Chan doesn’t leave, he knows better than to follow Minho back to his desk when the entire
building has security cameras. He heads outside the building and across the road to a cafe
where he snags a seat at the window and keeps an eagle eye on the building.
His mind is racing as he tries to figure out exactly what his father could have threatened
Minho with. What could be harsh enough to make him not only agree to coming here but also
push Chan away like that? He knows Minho, he wouldn’t have done this of his own accord
but then what did his father have over him?
After a few hours and a few repeated orders of coffee, Chan finally sees Minho heading out
of the building. He skitters out of the cafe and rushes across the road.
“Minho!” he calls, his shoes skidding across hard asphalt. “Wait up! Minho!”
He sees Minho stop and turn, the look in his eyes tired as Chan finally catches up to him.
“Go home, Chan,” Minho tells him, voice annoyed as he turns back to walk ahead. “I made
my bed, I’ll lie in it.”
“Just tell me what my father has over you,” Chan begs as he falls into step beside Minho.
“Did he threaten you with something? Did he hurt you at all? Tell me what he did and I’ll-”
“You’ll what? Disobey him?” Minho snarls, whirling on him with a glare he rarely throws at
Chan. “You know how he found out about us? Apparently all he needed as evidence was the
way you look at me.”
“Minho-”
“Just leave me here, Chris,” Minho cuts in, his cold facade dropping the longer he looks at
Chan. “It’s over, he figured out something is going on between us-”
“But there’s nothing between us!” Chan blurts without thinking.
He sees the look on Minho’s face and immediately regrets it. A look torn between disbelief
and something truly sad.
An apology is already on Chan’s tongue when Minho speaks first.
“There should be nothing between us,” he says. “There really should be nothing. I’ve tried to
make it nothing but then I look at you and I…”
Scoffing, he shakes his head and rubs his sleeve over his eyes before the tears have a chance
to form. “Fuck this. Fuck you, Chris.”
“Minho-”
“Don’t touch me!” Minho shrieks, slapping Chan’s hand away before he can reach his shirt.
“I have prayed and I have tried absolutely everything. I wake up every single morning
wishing I didn’t feel the way I do. It’s the reason why Han left me, it’s the reason why your
fucking father sent someone to kill me and it’s the reason why…”
He trails off, his eyes filling with tears and Chan’s stomach drops.
“Minho,” he breathes. “What did he do?”
Minho doesn’t answer. Instead he rubs at his eyes until they’re red and dry. He takes another
step back, away from Chan, his eyes dropping to the ground.
“I blame myself most of all,” he sniffs. “If I could just…if it was just one person, this
wouldn’t be so complicated. If I wasn’t the way I am…if I wasn’t a whor-”
“Don’t you dare say that word,” Chan warns angrily.
“Go back to Busan, Chris. I’m choosing to stay here. Besides, it’ll help. Your father said he
was having trouble connecting to the young people who aren’t stupid enough to vote for him.
Lo and behold, it’s now my job to promote him from a ‘Gen Z’ perspective,” Minho rolls his
eyes, his index and middle fingers forming a V to imitate quotation marks. “I’m starting to
think your father doesn’t believe in waste, he could have just shot me in the head.”
“He’d rather get me to do that,” Chan mutters darkly.
“Go on then.”
“Minho…”
“Go home, Chris,” Minho says, his voice firm as he stares at Chan. “Just go home. This is my
punishment for getting too close to you and for hurting Han. If I stay here, he won’t do
anything else to you two.”
“Minho-”
“Go. Home.”
For the first time in a long time, Chan feels something different bubbling in his chest.
Something painful and it burns as he watches Minho. He doesn’t mean to say it, he’s been
keeping his distance all this time for a reason and it’s because he always knew Minho never
could belong to him but seeing the other stepping back, distancing himself and telling him to
go away is just too much for Chan.
“Well how the fuck am I meant to go home when you’re my home, Minho?!”
A beat. Minho’s eyes widen and Chan’s do as well as he realises what he’d just said.
“Minho…I…”
Minho turns and bolts down the road before Chan can even think of running after him. Left
alone on the sidewalk, Chan stares after his shrinking silhouette, for once at a complete loss
for words.
Holding in a sob, Felix leans against the wall of his shower and lets the hot water run down
his back.
Somewhere out in his apartment, Changbin is cooking them breakfast before they have to
head to work and although he knows something is wrong with Felix, he doesn’t know exactly
what it is.
Last night when he’d come over, Felix hadn’t been able to hide his red eyes and puffy cheeks.
He hadn’t even been able to form any lie about why he was crying and instead spent the
entire night crying in Changbin’s chest.
Now in the shower, Felix bites his lip and suppresses the sobs that threaten to break out
again.
Changbin doesn’t know about Chan and Felix has no intention of telling him either. It was
one thing for Hyunjin to tell him but over the course of the night, it became glaringly obvious
to Felix that this was a secret Chan hadn’t told anyone. He doubts that Chan would have
wanted Jeongin and Minho to find out either, which means this is a leaked secret.
That, and Felix doesn’t know how to tell Changbin something like that. Changbin has known
Chan longer after all. Along with Jisung, the three of them have a bond that matches nothing
Felix has ever seen before. Hearing that Chan is dying could very well kill him.
He takes a deep, shuddering breath and forces himself to stop. The shower is saving him from
looking puffy and upset but he can’t keep going on like this. He has to go to work, he has to
carry on as if he doesn’t know the truth…and then he has to corner Chan and either cry his
heart out to him or hit him for not telling him sooner. He doesn’t know which.
Turning the water off, Felix takes another breath and pushes himself out. As he grabs a towel,
he hears a knock at the door.
“Lix?” Changbin’s voice comes through. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” Felix lies, his hand rubbing off a stray tear as he checks himself in the mirror. “Be
out soon.”
Changbin’s steps fade away and Felix has to lean against the sink. His chest aches, his knees
are shaking and he knows he has to get changed and get ready for work but it’s so much
harder to do that than it usually is.
“One day at a time,” he repeats to himself. “One hour at a time. One minute at a time.”
He glances at his phone but there are no new notifications, Chan hasn’t called him back. He
wonders what he would even say to the other if he did. Hi? Heard you’re dying, why the fuck
didn’t you tell me?
Or would he just cry in his arms and hold him so tight he’d never let go?
Changbin is surely going to be able to tell that something is wrong. He’ll ask more questions
and Felix isn’t sure he can handle it. In all the time he’s ever known Changbin, he’s never
lied to him. This will be the first time he has to and the very thought makes his stomach
wrench uncomfortably.
He takes a few more minutes before he finally manages to force himself to get dry and
dressed into his uniform. He comes out of the bathroom at last to face Changbin, who has this
awfully worried look on his face. It’s almost enough to make Felix start crying again.
“Maybe you should stay home?” Changbin suggests, one arm coming around Felix’s waist to
hold him close. “Babe, are you sure you’re okay? There’s nothing I can do to help?”
Felix shakes his head. He doesn’t trust his own voice. He looks down and gently grasps
Changbin’s shirt in his hand, as if it will steady him. If he can just get through today, find
Chan and confront him, he can handle it.
He manages to steady his voice enough to say: “I need to work. If I stay home, I’ll go insane.
Besides, with Minho and Han out, Hyunjin really needs your help on the main floor. He can’t
do it alone.”
“Okay,” Changbin nods, still frowning in concern. “Just let me know if you need me, okay?
I’ll be on the floor.”
Felix nods and lets Changbin take him out of the apartment and down to the parking lot. The
whole way to the restaurant, he has to steel himself. Put his worries and Chan to one side of
his brain and compartmentalise, it’s the only way. Changbin talks to him over the sound of
the radio but in all honesty, Felix is struggling to keep up with him.
There’s too much going on in his head.
By the time they get to the restaurant, Felix is in a serene enough state of mind to be able to
climb out of the car and head towards the back door into the kitchen where Seungmin is
already emptying out the freezer contents for the day.
Felix eyes him. Seungmin is, more often than not, on the outside of the drama that happens in
the restaurant. Although he and Minho have a history, Seungmin doesn’t seem to be affected
at all by the fact that he was kidnapped and taken to Seoul.
Or maybe he is affected, it’s just not Seungmin’s style to show it like Felix does.
Changbin rubs the small of his back on his way to the main floor and presses a kiss to his
temple. He checks one more time but when Felix shoots him a reassuring smile, he heads in
to work.
Seungmin looks up from the bench. “Do we ever have a quiet week at God’s Menu?” he asks.
“One week, I just want one week.”
Felix shrugs and heads to his station.
This, he can do. He can chop vegetables, he can set out the woks and the frying pans and
pots. He can concentrate on food so much that he’ll forget everything else.
It normally works but as he sets out the vegetables, Chan’s face flashes in his face. The first
time he’d met him at the bar and Chan had saved him from a language nightmare.
His head hurts.
Flash after flash, the memories surface as if only to taunt him. Images of Chan laughing at
something he said, Chan offering his help with settling in Seoul, Chan treating him like a
brother despite the fact that he never told Felix that’s what they were. Chan holding him tight
when Felix is scared or anxious or missing home because Chan is his home.
A warm tear drops onto his hand and Felix tries to shake it off but they keep coming.
“Lix.”
He looks up to see Seungmin watching him. “Do you wanna…go outside for some air or
something? I can set up.”
“Sorry,” Felix sniffs. “I’m fine, I’m ok-”
“Go get some air,” Seungmin tells him. “Really, it’ll be alright here. You’ve basically done
most of the groundwork anyway.”
Felix’s knees feel weak, the pain in his chest intensifies and he barely manages a whimper as
he nods and heads for the back door. He pushes it open and as the balmy morning air hits
him, the first thing he sees is Jeongin and Hyunjin coming up to the door.
They stop at the sight of him and Felix glances at Hyunjin first, then at Jeongin. Jeongin, who
knew about Chan, who tried to keep it from Hyunjin. Jeongin, who takes one look at him and
knows immediately why Felix is upset.
“You told him,” he states with a glance at Hyunjin.
Hyunjin nods and Felix’s chest pangs as he approaches the two of them.
He can’t handle the regretful and pitiful look on Jeongin’s face. “Hyung, I-”
Felix throws his arms around Jeongin and buries his face in Jeongin’s shoulder. The first sob
escapes and the floodgates open with no chance of stopping them. As Jeongin’s arms slowly
come around Felix, Felix sobs into his shoulder.
He distantly hears Hyunjin saying he’ll go in first. Jeongin waves him off and goes back to
holding Felix.
“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jeongin murmurs against his head. “I’m really sorry.”
Eventually he manages to move them both to sit near the bins. As Felix’s sobs start to calm,
he slumps tiredly against Jeongin. The other is warm and comforting, he always has been but
Felix has never needed him so much before now.
“He’s not answering my calls,” Felix mumbles, his mind vaguely registering that Jeongin is
rubbing his back slowly. “I know he’s busy but-”
“He’ll call back,” Jeongin assures him. “We just…never have a calm week here.”
Exactly the same thing Seungmin said. Felix snorts quietly and gently pulls his head away
from Jeongin’s wet shoulder.
“Sorry,” he sniffs as he uses his sleeve to dab Jeongin’s shoulder dry. “I’ve been trying not to
cry but…”
“I’m surprised you’re even here,” Jeongin tells him. “Minho had to take a few days off.”
Felix shakes his head. He’s not even in the right headspace to be able to comprehend what
Minho must have felt when he found out. He can’t predict what Jisung or Changbin will be
like when they find out, it hurts to even try. All he can think now is that Chan is dying and it’s
the only thing in his mind.
“I didn’t want to stay home,” he mutters, sniffing as he picks at the material of his pants. “It
would drive me crazy…you know? I’d just be left with my thoughts and…and I’d go
insane…”
Jeongin nods.
“Poor Seungmin,” Felix sniffles, fresh tears leaking from his eyes as he glances at the door.
“I’m going to be a mess all day. Maybe I won’t be of any help here…but I can’t go home, I
can’t…”
He feels something soft in his hand and looks down to see Jeongin gently slipping his hand
into his. Their fingers entwine as Felix looks up and Jeongin smiles.
It’s not much but amidst the pain in his chest, some relief blooms there too. Because when he
looks at Jeongin, he knows the other is different. He knows that whatever Hyunjin did to him
killed the last remnants of innocence Jeongin had.
But this new Jeongin, he still cares for him. He may be a little more wary, a little less naive
but he’s still sweet.
They eventually get up, brush the stones and dirt off their uniforms and trudge back inside.
Felix’s face is puffy and red but Seungmin makes no comment on it.
Then when they’re at their stations, Felix glances at Jeongin working near him and smiles, a
genuine smile this time.
“Stay near me.”
“As long as you need me, hyung.”

-
Minho’s new apartment has a window he can sit in.
It overlooks the lights of the city that shine even in the darkest part of the night. The city that
never sleeps, Minho would be lying if he said he missed it.
He sits, his knees pushed up to his chest, his arms around his legs and watches the dots of the
cars far below. It reminds him of when he was much younger and doing just this. Watching,
imagining what life would be like for him if he was any one of the people far below, living
different lives, loving different people.
Chan’s words repeat in his head like a mantra. Over and over. It occurred to him later that it’s
the first time Chan has outwardly acknowledged whatever happened between them as well.
Minho has. Plenty of times. Despite knowing he shouldn’t, Minho has always been more
aware of it, he never scrubbed Chan off his skin and he tried. He really tried. He’s told Chan
several times how much he wishes he didn’t love him, how much he wishes he could get him
out of his head but Chan had never vocally confirmed that he felt the same.
Minho always suspected but…
He curls a little more and watches the lights. No matter how much he loves Chan, it doesn’t
lessen the love he feels for Jisung. Not at all. In fact, the whole reason he agreed to leaving
Busan in the first place had nothing to do with Chan and everything to do with Jisung.
He’d made a grave mistake in underestimating Prime Minister Bang, the other knew more
than Chan could dare to hope.
The only blessing is that the man seems to have no idea just how sick his son really is.
The apartment is painfully silent and he’s not used to it. Back in Busan there was always
some noise, be it the sound of Soonie purring, the drip of the tap or the sound of one of the
cats fighting with the other over food.
But here? Silent as the grave.
A knock at his door pulls him out of his thoughts. Minho turns his eyes to the front door,
anxiety gnawing at his stomach at the thought of meeting the business end of a loaded gun on
the other end.
All he’d hope then is that it’s aimed right between his eyes.
The knock sounds again and Minho gently pulls himself off the windowsill and onto the
hardwood flooring. He walks towards the door, passing unfamiliar furniture and items as he
passes.
He’ll never get used to it here.
When he pulls the door open, he looks up and his breath catches in his throat, his blood
freezes and he stares in disbelief.
Han Jisung stands in the hallway dressed in an oversized red and white striped hoodie with
black jeans. For a moment, the two just stare at each other, Minho in temporary shock and
Jisung in relief.
It’s Jisung who closes the gap with two wide strides through the doorframe. His arms envelop
Minho in a crushing hug and Minho sinks into him so naturally, his arms grabbing the other
as if he needs the physical confirmation that Jisung is here. He’s really here.
“How?” he breathes.
Jisung pulls back just enough to look at his face. There’s a small smile on Jisung’s lips as he
cups the side of Minho’s face in his palm.
“Chan isn’t the only one with contacts,” he reminds Minho softly.
Minho coughs. “You rich kids. Is no door unlocked for you?”
“Not many doors are closed to me, baby,” Jisung smirks and Minho can’t help himself. He
laughs, despite the situation, despite everything, he leans into Jisung like it’s second nature.
The knot in his stomach is easing as Jisung’s scent invades his senses, his warmth holding
him close calms Minho’s nerves and his anxiety. Just for a moment, bliss envelops them both
as Minho rests his forehead against Jisung’s and holds him close.
Then Jisung kisses him and for one, calm moment all Minho knows is peace.
They pull back and it’s at that moment that Jisung opens his eyes and looks around the
apartment. He looks down, noting the clean floors, the absence of sound and he looks at
Minho.
“Where are the cats?”
“I brought them here and left them with an old friend, they’re not safe here with me.”
The peace shatters, tears spring to Minho’s eyes and Jisung gently pulls him in by the back of
his head to cry in his shoulder. Minho sags into his hold, he sobs and holds him tight and he
barely registers when Jisung practically picks him up and carries him deeper into the
apartment.
Everything comes flooding out. He hasn’t cried once since he was brought here, shock had
kept the tears at bay but with Jisung here, Minho cries because it’s safe. At last it’s safe
enough to break down the way he’s been dying to.
Jisung settles him on the end of the bed and holds him close. His fingers trail gently down
Minho’s hair, down his shoulder, rubbing little circles into his skin as he kisses Minho’s
forehead and lets him cry his heart out.
It takes a while but when Minho’s sobs start to die down, when exhaustion starts to creep in,
Jisung pulls back and heads into the kitchen to grab him a glass of water. He settles right
against Minho when he returns, his warmth touching Minho’s side, reminding him physically
that he’s here. He’s here and it’s safe.
Jisung waits. He doesn’t ask anything, he doesn’t ask what happened, what Prime Minister
Bang did, he just waits for Minho to drink the water and calm himself down. He gives Minho
tissues, lets him clean himself up and he doesn’t ask anything.
It’s Minho who breaks the silence when he’s finally capable of talking.
“Chan’s father knows everything,” he says, his voice wavering with lingering emotion as he
dabs at tears still falling down his cheeks. “He knows something is up between me and Chan,
he knows my former guardian has been missing for awhile, he knows I killed him and he
knows…”
He stops, his eyes going up to Jisung’s face.
“He knows about us,” he tells the other quietly. “That was one of the things he threatened me
with.”
“What did he threaten, exactly?” Jisung asks, eyes narrowing a little. His hand perches on
Minho’s knee, a gentle, warm reminder that he’s there.
“Everything,” Minho coughs, a sob escaping his lips at the mere thought. “He wants Chan in
his control. He threatened to have me put away for the murder of Sungcheol-”
“He doesn’t have proof-”
“You know he doesn’t need it,” Minho sniffs, wide tearfilled eyes looking at Jisung. “He
knows everything, Hannie. He made it blatantly clear that if I didn’t do as he said, he’d make
Chan’s life a living hell and…”
Jisung frowns. “And?”
“You,” Minho mumbles quietly. “He threatened me with you. If I don’t do as he says, he’ll
make sure your parents know about us and…Han, I don’t know what they’ll do to you but
I…”
Jisung looks down. His parents don’t know about Minho, it’s true. Like a well-off son of
chaebol, he knows exactly what their reaction would be as well. Han Jisung, son of the proud
and prestigious Han family, is not meant to be the man he is. He’s meant to marry a rich girl,
continue to enrich the family reputation he doesn’t care about.
He was never meant to fall in love with a poor ex-stripper with no money to his name.
They’d either force him to marry to cover their own asses or they’d completely disown him
as so many other families have done before.
Minho had left with Prime Minister Bang to protect Jisung.
“Chan can deal with his father,” Jisung says. “He has ways around him even when he does as
he’s told. Even if the PM tries to make his life a living hell, Chan would fight back.”
Minho closes his eyes to prevent the emotion rising in his eyes - Jisung still doesn’t know
Chan is sick.
“As for me,” Jisung continues. “You’re right. My parents don’t know about you. It’s easier
for me because they’re never in the country but I kept you from them because…because
that’s what we’re supposed to do. We’re not meant to be in gay relationships, we’re meant to
continue the family line, never bring scandals, raise heirs and continue a bloodline we don’t
care about.”
Minho’s fingers start to pick at the plush, soft fabric of the black duvet cover on his bed. He
shivers and nods. He knows how things work, it’s not his world but he knows how it works.
Jisung can’t disobey it just like Chan can’t and Changbin can’t.
“Fuck it,” Jisung says, his finger hooking under Minho’s chin to force him to look at him. “I
don’t care if PM Bang tells my parents about you. I really don’t care-”
“Han-”
“No, listen to me,” Jisung leans in. “I don’t care. If they find out, if they disown me, if it’s
splashed all over the news tomorrow morning, I don’t care. I’ll fucking do it myself, I should
have done it years ago, I don’t care.”
Minho stares at him, wide eyes taking in the seriousness of Jisung’s face contrasting with the
love and gentleness in his eyes.
“PM Bang is too close to the presidency to risk a scandal. He can’t make Chan’s life hell
because he relies on him too much and as for me, he can do whatever the fuck he likes. I
don’t care.”
“But…” Minho hiccups. “But your parents-”
“If they disown me for this, they’re not my parents,” Jisung tells him. “What’s the worst that
could happen? They cut me off daddy’s money and power? Oh no, it’s not as though I haven’t
been working a full time job for years now and made my own money.”
“But Sungcheol-”
“Was eaten and disposed of. If he tries to bury you for it, Chan will fight it and you know he
will,” Jisung tells him. “If Chan doesn’t, I will. No high court can bury you for a murder with
no evidence. And again, PM Bang can’t risk it right now, a court scandal would hurt his
image especially now that you’re his secretary.”
Minho blinks, it makes sense. He takes Jisung’s hand in his own and holds it, drawing energy
from the other as he thinks it over.
“He can’t…hurt us?”
“Oh he can. It just depends on whether or not we care and I don’t,” Jisung assures him.
“But with all that aside, what if he just tries to have me killed?” Minho asks as he thinks
about the guy who almost succeeded had it not been for Minjun’s appearance. That was all
PM Bang’s doing.
“Again, he can’t risk it. He’s bluffing and I’m calling bullshit,” Jisung tells him. “And when
it comes to having people killed and erased off the face of the planet with absolutely no
evidence traced back to him, there’s only one person he can ask to do it. That person will
never hurt you.”
Chan.
The knot eases in his stomach, his tense shoulders start to relax and he turns to look at
Jisung’s face. The other is so solid, so reassuring and safe that he can’t help but lean into him.
Jisung’s arm around him is warm, his lips press gently against Minho’s forehead and Minho
feels a warm, calm peace rush through him. Safety.
“Let me deal with you leaving PM Bang’s employment,” he whispers, his thumb tracing
circles on Minho’s shoulder. “Just come home with me.”
This apartment is too cold. Too clean, too suffocating. Minho thinks of his own home back in
Busan and although the ache for his cats is still there, Jisung’s strong presence grounds him.
He leans up to pull Jisung into a kiss, relieved, grateful and loving as his hands come up to
hold the back of Jisung’s head. Jisung kisses him back and as he pushes Minho back into the
mattress, Minho holds onto him as tight as he can.
May he never let this man go ever again.
The scent of popcorn fills the air as Felix slips his hand into Jeongin’s hold and looks over
the movies on offer for the night.
After the restaurant had closed, Changbin had received a call that made him run out the door
in a rush. Hyunjin had given Jeongin a look and it was then that Jeongin knew he was going
back to Wolgang Pa.
He’d tried to argue with him even as Hyunjin had one foot out the door.
“But,” Jeongin hisses, his voice low in case Felix can hear as they stand at the back door.
“Why do you keep leaving me with Felix? Don’t you know he’ll be in danger if I snap? What
if I black out?”
“Because Felix is probably one of the only people who can keep you from blacking out,”
Hyunjin tells him, his hand perched on the door as he leans outside. “Now be good, keep
your head down and I’ll be back later.”
Then he kisses him and heads out.
Left alone with Felix, Jeongin looks back at him and sees him checking his phone. His
shoulders slump when he sees no new messages from Chan.
So they decide that since neither of them really want to go home and panic about it, they’ll go
see a movie.
There aren’t a lot of people out for the night. Some couples, a few families but it’s a
weeknight and many people leave their dates for the weekend. Because of this, it’s simple
enough to wander into the theatre and sit without being near anyone else.
They deliberately pick the seats right at the back.
Jeongin catches Felix still checking his phone. His shoulders slumping again when he sees no
new messages from Chan. As the movie theatre slowly fills with people, Jeongin tries to
think of what he can do for Felix.
The truth is there isn’t a hell of a lot he can do. Not about this. Chan is in Seoul trying to get
Minho back and he’s clearly busy because Jeongin would have thought the first person he’d
call if he ever needed to was Felix. That he’s ignoring even him only tells Jeongin that
whatever is going on in Seoul, it’s keeping Chan busy.
What can he say anyway? Chan will be okay? He’s dying and now they both know it would
be a blatant lie.
But worrying for Felix, caring for Felix comes easy. Especially when it distracts Jeongin
from his own worrying thoughts. Every second Hyunjin is away from him doing god knows
what is another second that the anxiety in Jeongin churns, knotting his stomach, making his
heart beat just that little bit faster. Making breathing just a little harder.
He takes Felix’s hand and squeezes it. Half to comfort the other, half for his own sake.
“I have a horrible feeling in my gut,” Felix says, his fingers entwining with Jeongin’s and
squeezing tightly. “Like something really bad is coming…it might be about Chan but it’s
awful.”
Jeongin feels the same, the problem is that he can’t tell anyone the cause might actually be
Hyunjin if this stunt with Wolgang Pa goes wrong in any way, shape or form. This feeling of
doom that hangs over his head, thoughts of the worst case scenarios playing over and over in
his head range from Chan dying and all of them being finally arrested for murder and
cannibalism, to the worst case scenario being that they all die before that can even happen.
No matter how he shapes this, the future looks dark and his only beacon of hope is that
whatever Hyunjin is doing, it’ll help somehow.
But then would it help Felix? What about Jisung? Changbin? Seungmin or Minho? Is
Hyunjin thinking about just them or is he thinking about all of them?
“I don’t know what I can say to make it better,” Jeongin says after a moment of thinking it
through. “Maybe I can’t say anything because I’m feeling it too. But maybe the best thing we
can do is have faith that something will work out. Chan will call you back and you’ll be able
to talk about it - maybe he has a plan.”
Maybe Hyunjin has a plan. Maybe Jeongin should do something too but he can’t think of
where he’d start.
Felix is looking at him, his eyes watery and wide. He sniffs and leans into Jeongin’s arm as
the lights start to dim and the trailers start.
“Chan is dying,” Felix whispers. “I don’t know how to believe that anything will be good
anymore.”
In the darkness, Hyunjin’s image flashes before Jeongin’s eyes and he takes a deep, shaking
breath. He pulls Felix closer and wills himself to stay here, stay grounded for Felix’s sake.
“I’ll be here, hyung,” he says, his thumb rubbing small circles into Felix’s shoulder. “I won’t
leave.”
It’s a promise he’s not sure he can keep and in the darkness of the theatre, the feeling of
bones breaking under his hands flashes in his mind, Felix bleeding out next to him, every
single person in this theatre dead as he sits here watching the movie. Jeongin’s free hand
curls into a fist as he wills himself to stay sane.
It’s getting harder and harder with each passing day.
Changbin bursts into the door, breathless from running. When he’d received the call from
Wooyoung’s new right hand man, Yunho, the other had sounded truly panicked. He’d
practically been hyperventilating on the phone but it’s not until Changbin enters the main
meeting room of the Jung Tower that he realises why.
Blood is splattered all along the walls, he spots a businessman hanging over the back of one
chair, another lying on the ground, one slumped against the window with his head in a
strange angle. One of the outward-facing windows is broken, half a shirt hanging from a
shard of broken glass.
Changbin looks around in horror, he hasn’t seen a bloodbath this bad since the freezer in
God’s Menu.
“Woo?!” he calls, fear caught in his throat as he looks around the board room and runs out
into the hallway. “Woo?!”
He runs, frantic and worried, his eyes darting left and right as he sees more bodies in other
rooms. A man in a suit slumped in a tiny meeting room on his chair, another slumped in an
office chair, his bloody head resting on his keyboard with his eyes staring forward, unseeing.
Changbin looks up when someone enters the hallway covered head to toe in blood, a knife in
one hand, gun in the other, panting and looking both tired and psychotic at the same time.
It’s Wooyoung.
“Woo,” Changbin breathes, both relieved and concerned as he stops running and stares at the
other. “Woo-”
Wooyoung points the gun at him. “Don’t,” he snaps. “Don’t come closer.”
Changbin raises his hands automatically, his eyes looking all around but he sees no sign of
Yunho. He turns his eyes back to Wooyoung and the telltale shake of his hand holding the
gun is all he needs to know the other won’t willingly shoot him.
“What happened?” he asks quietly. “What did they do? Did they hurt you?”
Wooyoung’s bottom lip starts to tremble, his eyes filling with tears and for a moment there,
he looks so lost. There’s blood matting his hair, half his face is covered and it’s all down his
chest, his arms and legs. His hands are shaking and he’s barely keeping the gun pointed at
Changbin.
“They deserved it…” he says with a shaking voice. “They all…”
Changbin slowly takes one step forward. “Tell me what they did,” he says. “What did they
do?”
So many bodies. He sees more the closer he gets to Wooyoung. Another few slumped at their
desks, shot in the back of the head.
“They’re all monsters,” Wooyoung breathes, a few of his tears mix with the blood on his
cheeks as he keeps the gun pointed at Changbin. “They’re monsters, Bin. They sell children,
they kill innocent people…they ruin lives. I couldn’t let them.”
Changbin takes another careful, slow step forward. “Tell me what happened. How did this
start?”
“We were having a meeting,” Wooyoung whimpers. “Another meeting about a shipment of…
of…”
Changbin takes one more step forward and he can see more bodies. Some sticking out from
under desks, they must have tried hiding.
“All those…monsters,” Wooyoung whispers, a hiccupping sob following his words as he

thinks back on it. “Monsters. All those rich, pompous, arrogant businessmen selling other
people’s children, talking about killing people as if it was as simple as killing a bug…and
then they…”
Changbin is closer to him now and Wooyoung either hasn’t noticed or he doesn’t care.
“Then what?” Changbin asks, fear crawling up his chest as he sees no sign of Yunho or San.
“Where is Yunho?”
Wooyoung sobs and his arm holding the gun lowers. Changbin reaches forward to take the
gun off him, with his other arm he pulls Wooyoung close and hears the metallic clatter of the
knife in Wooyoung’s other hand falling to the floor. He holds Wooyoung close and lets the
other cling to him, Wooyoung cries into his shoulder, his entire body shaking in Changbin’s
hold.
“I couldn’t take it anymore,” he sobs. “I just couldn’t…they’re monsters, Lovey, they’re

monsters…”
Changbin rubs his arm, he can just see what happened. The businessmen Wooyoung regularly
meets with used to have such a strong relationship with his father. His father who set them all
up for life, who created their positions, made them money. They had spent years and years
doing exactly what they do.
An upstart like Wooyoung, they were just looking for a single crack in his shield. Proof that
he wasn’t fit for the role he’d been forced into. Once they had that…
“I didn’t mean to…not Yunho…he was already gone and they…” Wooyoung’s entire body
shudders with another sob. “They laughed, they laughed because I’d accidentally…”
Changbin can hear a distant scream from outside. He looks around the office and holds
Wooyoung tighter.
“I don’t remember what happened next,” Wooyoung cries. “But when I started to remember,
they were already dead. All of them. I killed them…”
“Where’s San?”
Wooyoung shakes his head. “He’s not here.”
Changbin has to emotionally divorce himself from the situation. It’s the only way they’re
going to get anything done now. Wooyoung can’t be trusted to do anymore than this and from
what Changbin can surmise, it was Wooyoung who’d killed Yunho. Accidentally. He’d either
pulled a gun or a knife and perhaps Yunho even tried to stop him but either way, it ended in
his death.
Either he’s somewhere in this building or…
There are more screams outside, someone found the body that went through the window and
Changbin uses his free hand to pull out his phone to call San. Someone has to get Wooyoung
out of here, someone has to deal with the cleanup and if Wooyoung’s name is implicated in
this at all, he doesn’t have nearly enough people standing between him and the police. Not
anymore.
Wolgang Pa will give him up in a heartbeat, especially when they hear about this.
When San answers, Changbin cuts to the chase immediately.
“San, I need you to come to Jung Tower, park somewhere discreet and help me get
Wooyoung out of here without anyone seeing him.”
A pause. “What happened?”
Changbin can practically hear the fear dripping off San’s tongue.
“We need to hide him,” Changbin tells him. “Get here as fast as you can.”
San arrives in record time. Changbin takes Wooyoung down to the underground parking lot
and hands him over to a shocked looking San. Once Wooyoung is safe in the car, Changbin
turns to San with a serious look on his face as he lowers his voice for Wooyoung’s sake.
“Hide him,” he warns. “Once Wolgang Pa finds out what happened, they’re going to start
looking for the culprit and if they find out it was Woo, nothing will protect him. So hide him
and stay out of sight until I give the all-clear.”
San looks terrified. “What will you do?”
“I’m going to clean this mess,” Changbin announces as he turns on his heel and heads for the
elevator. “Go. Now.”
Prime Minister Bang scowls as the morning newspaper is dropped right in front of him. Front
page news for Seoul is the fact that his newest assistant is a former stripper. Several images
of him half nude, wrapped around a pole with money hanging out of his underwear are
splashed all over the front next to another story about a massacre in Busan.
He looks over the headline with narrowed eyes and turns his gaze up to the two people
standing in front of his desk. Han Jisung and Bang Chan.
“I assume you’re responsible for this?” he says, his finger pointing at the revealing picture of
Minho.
“Well spotted, sir,” Jisung hums, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he looks over the
newspapers. “I have plenty more if you’re interested. I picked only the best of course and
when I started talking to the journalists - fuck they ate it up. They’ve been looking for dirt on
you for years.”
Beside him, Chan is just barely keeping his laughter in. There’s a certain satisfaction in
seeing his father beaten like this.
“You know the best thing about this?” Jisung continues. “The press are very interested in
him. They’ll be keeping an eye on him. They’ll be taking pictures, following him around,
they’ll want interviews with the secretary of Prime Minister Bang. And if you do something
stupid like try to have him killed or make him go ‘missing’, they’ll know right away and
they’re smart enough to figure out you’d have a motive - isn’t that awfully convenient?”
Prime Minister Bang narrows his eyes. “You’ve ruined my campaign, my ratings-”
“That’s what you get for taking my boyfriend away,” Jisung cuts in coldly. “Be thankful I
didn’t do worse. I expect you to fire him immediately so I can take him home.”
“Your parents-”
“Oh don’t worry about that one,” Jisung announces as he pulls his phone up to show the man
a line of text messages. “I told them this morning. Both of them. You wanna blackmail me?
Try harder.”
Chan looks down. Taking Jisung had been the best decision after all, he’d never seen this
determined side of Jisung before but apparently all it took was threatening Minho to bring it
out.
In a way it’s a relief. It’s confirmation that Jisung will be alright after he…
“So that’s all your threats taken care of,” Jisung says as he puts his phone back in his pocket.
“My parents know I’m gay, South Korea knows you hired a stripper to work for you and
because they’ll all be watching him, you can’t do anything to him - was there anything else?”
Jisung pauses a little, a faux thinking look on his face as he takes a moment to pretend
pondering about it. After a second, he clicks his fingers and leans in.
“Oh right,” he chuckles, his hands perching on Prime Minister Bang’s desk as he leans in to
look him in the eye. “You come after me or anyone I love ever again, not even your son will
save you from what I can do to you.”
He pushes himself off the desk, glances at Chan and heads out of the room without so much
as a backwards glance.
The door slams behind him and Chan clears his throat. Somewhere way below in the
underground parking lot, Minho is waiting with a car full of his newly retrieved cats. They’ll
meet him at the airport later.
His father turns his cold, icy gaze right at him.
“This is all your fault-”
“No, father, it’s not,” Chan cuts in calmly. “You pulled the wrong tail and got bitten for it.
But this won’t ruin your campaign, if anything it’ll make you more interesting. You wanted
the attention of the younger generation, you just got it,” he points to the picture of Minho.
“That right there got you more publicity than you can ever buy.”
His father narrows his eyes. “The voters won’t vote for a man who has a-”
“The voters will vote for someone they deem human enough to lead them,” Chan corrects
him. “Now everyone knows your secretary is a former stripper, that puts you in front of them.
If the story of you letting Minho go because he didn’t want to cause you problems - not
because you’re a bigot who can’t handle the scandal - goes around, your votes will increase,
not decrease. It’ll make you look human and empathetic.”
His father chews his lip in annoyance. “And I suppose in turn you want me to leave him
alone and trust that you won’t screw your marriage because of him?”
“Uh…in case you weren’t listening back there, he’s with Han,” Chan frowns. “And besides, I
know better. I’m invested in your campaign, I’m working to get you where you want to be
but in return, you can’t pick and choose what you want me to do and when. If you want me to
help you, stop trying to control me.”
“You’re my son-”
“And you can’t do this without me,” Chan points out firmly. “Do you want my help or not?
Because I can just walk away from this, I can give less shits about whether or not you’ll
make it to the presidency and I can care so much less if you disown me. The great legacy of
the Bang family means less to me than it does to you, father.”
There have only been two instances in Chan’s life where he’s seen his father truly backed into
a corner and speechless. This is one of them, the rage on his face is real but Chan knows
better than anyone that he has no leg to stand on. Not after Jisung effectively knocked most
of them down and Chan took care of the rest.
The other instance was when his mother started losing her mind and it took his father a few
weeks to figure out what to do with her - by which time Chan had already taken her and
hidden her.
“Do we have a deal?” Chan asks. “You leave me and mine alone, I do what you want. That’s
the offer. We’re too close to the end of elections for this to slip through your fingers, father.”
He can see it. It’s practically killing his father to bend to him for this but he has absolutely no
choice.
“Fine,” his father says through gritted teeth. “We have a deal.”
Chan smiles but it only lasts a second because right then, his world starts to waver. The room
blurs, everything starts to spin and he just barely catches himself in time.
Shit.
“I’ll be going now,” he informs his father who, thankfully, doesn’t seem to have noticed the
momentary dizziness.
Taking a deep breath, Chan turns around and heads for the door. He walks past the security
guards and lets the door swing shut behind himself as he heads down the hallway. Security
cameras watch as he walks to the elevator, each step careful and calculated.
By the time he reaches the elevator, his stomach is already churning with nausea.
He steps into the elevator, mindful of the cameras as he takes a corner and stands as still as he
can. The numbers start blurring and swimming in his vision, the whirring sound of the
elevator shaft makes his head pound. He hits the ground floor and barely resists holding onto
the wall as he forces himself out into the lobby.
People are watching. Cameras are watching. His father has access to those tapes…
Chan can barely see straight as he walks out of the building and towards the car waiting for
him at the front.
Breathe. Breathe. It’ll pass, just breathe.
He climbs into the back, tells his driver where to go and closes the window between them so
the driver can’t see him. As the car rolls away from the building, Chan holds his breath and
closes his eyes.
Breathe. Breathe.
The hum of the car hurts his head. The sound of the cars outside hurts his head. Everything is
too bright, too loud. He leans over and puts his head between his knees, he focuses on his
breathing and wills himself to make it through this. He can’t get sick just yet, he can’t die yet.
There’s still so many things he has to do, so many things he must make sure of.
He reaches for the small microphone hidden in his shirt and pulls it off. Tossing it aside, he
grabs his phone and calls the first number at the top of his contact list.
“Hyung?”
“You got it?” Chan asks, his eyes still closed as he staves off the migraine from hell. “Did
you get it?”
“I got it,” the voice assures him. “I can hear you, are you alright? Your breathing…”
“You know I’m dying,” Chan says, wincing as a particularly painful spike shoots through his
head. “Just tell me you got all that.”
“I got it,” the voice replies. “Is it time?”
“Not yet. We need to wait until the night of the election. Pull this too early and he has time to
cover his ass, we get him right when he has nothing to defend himself.”
“Okay.”
“I’m coming back now. Everything alright over there?”
“Yeah…but you might wanna check on Felix.”
Chan remembers Felix trying to call him all yesterday and all of today. He never had the
chance to answer…probably best to do it in person. Whatever it is, he’ll take care of it.
Because that’s what he does. It’s who he is.
“You know what to do,” he tells the voice on the other end. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
“Okay…and hyung?”
“Mm?”
“Don’t die yet.”
Despite the pain, Chan laughs.
“I’ll try my best.”
The call cuts off and Chan takes a few more deep breaths. Election night…it’s only a month
away.
One more month, if he can hold out just one more month, everything will be complete.
Maybe he’ll even live long enough to visit his mother one more time, maybe he’ll live long
enough to make sure everyone will be safe after he’s gone.
His time is running out. Slipping through his fingers like sand and it’s all he can do to clench
his fists and hold on just that little bit longer.
Breathe. Just breathe.

-
In just two days, the bowels of Wolgang Pa buzzed with only one name on their lips. From
the drug dealers to the runners to the lowest ranking members to the highest, one name won
them over as whispers and murmurs of a takeover sent the entire Pa shivering with barely
hidden excitement.
The fighting pit had never seen such fighting prowess before but his charisma, the way he
could pull them in, the honeyed words on his lips drew them closer.
After the massacre at Jung Tower, the remnants of Wolgang Pa pulled together with one wish
on all their minds: To remove Jung Wooyoung and replace him with someone who would
restore the glory of the pa to where it once belonged and only one person could do that.
Standing behind Minjun, Hyunjin watches as the crowds of pa members ranging from the
lowest possible ranking to the highest gather around cheering and hooting for the initiation of
their newest member.
Minjun raises his arms, silencing them all.
“Well we have a special night here,” he announces, a large grin on his face as he pulls
Hyunjin right into the middle of the circle in the fighting warehouse where they’re all
gathered. “Our newest member. Not one to be underestimated, I’m sure I don’t need to
introduce him but I will anyway, Mr Hwang Hyunjin!”
Cheers rattle the fragile and worn walls of the warehouse. Hyunjin keeps his face passive as
he looks around at them all. Minjun raises his arm again and the warehouse falls silent once
more.
“Prepare for the takeover of the century. Wolgang Pa will rise again!” Minjun shouts. “Under
my leadership, Wolgang Pa will rise to where it was and surpass it!”
Cheers follow his speeches, hungry, angry men and women of the pa, all watching Minjun
and Hyunjin as if they’re the answer to their problems.
And they are.
“In just one day, our newest member has taken out the dregs of Wolgang Pa!” Minjun
announces. “The weak! Those willing to kiss the ass of that faggot sitting on our throne!
Under our new laws, Busan will be our city to rule again! No exceptions, no second chances!
It’s ours!”
Hyunjin closes his eyes. Today he’d been cracking necks, breaking skulls and throwing
bodies out of windows. All those Minjun deemed too weak for the pa, all those who had bent
over to Wooyoung too quickly, he’d killed them all. The police had been scrambling between
the massacre at Jung Tower and the murders popping up all over the city.
Any more and a city wide curfew would soon be called. Busan was becoming very, very
dangerous and already people were evacuating.
When he opens his eyes again, he meets the gazes of those around him. Hungry for power,
for money, for a sense of belonging. Wolgang Pa is as much a place for lost people as it is for
anyone who craves power and money.
With sweet and honeyed words mixed with his violent actions, he’d won them all over.
“Now howl with me, brothers and sisters,” Minjun says as he turns back to Hyunjin and
reaches for his shirt. “As our newest member becomes one of ours.”
He pulls, the material rips off to reveal Hyunjin’s bare skin. His back is pristine, clean as his
front and more than a few eyes take in the sight in all its glory. Hyunjin closes his eyes and
gently gets down on his knees for the final part of the initiation.
Behind him, the pa are starting to howl like the wolves they are. Between cheering and
howling, the walls and windows rattle as Minjun turns around and picks up the iron brand
that had been heating up in the metal bin behind him. The brand at the end of the long metal
stick is that of a circle, in the middle is a wolf. The same brand on all of them.
“With this,” Minjun announces as the sounds around him reach a fever pitch. “You’re one of
us.”
He thrusts the stick forward and as the hot iron hits Hyunjin’s shoulder blade, Hyunjin can’t
help the howl of pain he lets out. He barely catches himself as he falls forward, his head
dipping as Minjun presses the brand firmly against his skin.
When he pulls it away, there it is. Raw, red and leathery. A perfect circle with the imprint of a
wolf. A Wolgang Pa symbol.
Hyunjin catches his breath to the cacophony of sound all around him. The howling, the
cheering, the stomping of feet in unbridled excitement. He forces himself up again and takes
Minjun’s hand to help him up to his feet. Minjun is smiling ear to ear.
“Welcome home, brother,” he says with a clap on Hyunjin’s uninjured shoulder.
Hyunjin smiles and the warehouse erupts in cheers.
Minho and Jisung are blissfully happy the whole way home. After they land, they say their
goodbyes to Chan and head off in an uber with their cats in tow. Chan sees them off and he
feels a little relieved. At least something went perfectly for once.
His driver takes him back to God’s Menu. On the way he texts Felix to meet him there and is
answered with a: ‘K’.
Hopefully whatever is wrong with Felix can be fixed with a few soothing words, maybe a
movie night. Felix is pretty low maintenance when it comes to calming him down.
The car rolls into the city and as it does, the radio is on low but Chan catches the news
announcements. Murders popping up all over the city, followed by a massacre at Jung Tower.
He frowns and checks his phone where he finally receives message after message from
Changbin about what happened.
Bin: Woo’s cracking.
Bin: I’ve got the security tapes.
Bin: He’s not gonna last.
Bin: But they don’t know he did it.
Chan makes a mental note to meet up with Changbin later to figure out what happened.
The car stops in the mostly empty parking lot of God’s Menu. Chan climbs out of the car and
heads around the restaurant to the back where he is greeted by a familiar figure standing near
his office.
Not Felix. Hyunjin.
Chan blinks in surprise and stops in front of him.
“Hyunjin, what are you doing here?”
Hyunjin’s face is completely unreadable. His eyes somehow darker than usual, he’s wearing a
simple white shirt and black pants and for a moment, he just stares.
Chan points to the office door. “Did you want to talk?”
“I can do it out here,” Hyunjin says. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m leaving God’s Menu.
I’ve worked off the debt I owed you when you cleared me of charges after killing my father,
there’s nothing keeping me here anymore.”
Chan’s stomach drops, the air rushes out of his lungs in one shocked exhale and his eyes
widen.
“Wait…you what?”
“I’m leaving,” Hyunjin continues. “I quit.”
“Bu…but…Innie?!”
“Innie’s safer here for now, it’s just me. I’m leaving and there’s nothing you can do to stop
me.”
He turns to leave but Chan’s world is spinning already. No. No, it can’t be this way. Not when
they’re so close to the end. Not when the whole reason Chan brought him in and protected
him is because he’s his little brother.
Him and Felix, they’re the only family he has left.
“Wait,” he blurts, his hand reaching out to grab Hyunjin’s shoulder.
He touches something and Hyunjin hisses in pain. He tries pulling away from Chan but Chan
can already see something under the white material of his shirt. He holds Hyunjin in place
with his other hand and pulls his shirt up to reveal the new brand on his skin. Ugly, red and
angry.
In one dizzying moment, Chan understands what Hyunjin has done.
“Hyunjin…”
“Get off me!” Hyunjin snarls, his shoulder twisting out of Chan’s grasp so he can push the
other away.
Hyunjin takes a few precautionary steps back and glares. “Next time you touch me, I’ll break
your arm.”
“Hyunjin…” Chan breathes, still too shocked to get angry about this. “Why…why would
you…?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Hyunjin sneers as he pushes his shirt back down. “At least when they lie,
I’m expecting it from them. I’ve been raised my whole life never to trust people and you
almost…” he stops himself, his hands curling into fists as he takes a few breaths to control
himself.
Chan shakes his head. “It’s not too late,” he tells the other. “I can protect you from them-”
“I didn’t join them because I owed them something!” Hyunjin snaps angrily. “I joined them
because I need Innie to be somewhere safe. I need him to be protected-”
“And you think he’ll be protected at Wolgang Pa?!” Chan chokes, anger finally rising at the
thought of Jeongin in the middle of that mess. “Have you lost your fucking mind, Hyunjin?!”
“He’ll be safer there than he is here,” Hyunjin snarls. “You know, I almost did it. I almost
trusted you, you’d never given me reason not to and I had one big reason for thinking you’d
be…”
He stops again, his brain catching up with him and stopping his tongue before he says too
much. Chan can’t read the look on his face but it almost looks…sad. Betrayed. Hyunjin looks
down and bites his lip and for a moment he looks like a lost child. Chan can just see him as a
child making that same face, stuck in a loveless house with an abusive father - the
comparison hurts.
“You can trust me,” Chan tells him. “You can. I need you here, Hyunjin. I need you where I
can see you-”
“No,” Hyunjin tells him. “No. You lied to me. I’m not trusting you again, you lied to me.
When you die, we’re all fucked and I’m not taking that chance.”
“When I-?”
“We know, by the way,” Hyunjin says coldly. “We know everything. We know you’re dying
and we know you’ve lied to us.”
“We?”
Hyunjin nods to something behind him and Chan’s stomach twists as he turns around to see
Felix coming towards them both. Chan can see the tears in Felix’s eyes and his heart stutters
at the thought that Felix had been calling him all this time because of this. Because he knows.
“Goodbye, Chan,” Hyunjin says, his steps echoing on the concrete carpark as he vanishes
into the night.
Chan can’t call after him. He can’t save him. All he can do is stare helplessly as Felix
approaches him.
He doesn’t say anything. Neither of them do. They can tell by the look on each others faces
what they’re feeling. Felix’s face is a mix of various emotions ranging from upset to angry,
Chan’s is just so sorry. Sorry that he hadn’t told Felix, sorry that Felix had to find out the way
he did.
For a moment it looks like Felix might hit him but he doesn’t. Instead Felix falls into Chan’s
arms and holds him as tight as he can. Chan’s arms wrap around him, grounding him,
keeping him up as Felix gasps into his shoulder and starts to cry.
“I’m sorry,” Chan whispers against Felix’s golden locks. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”
Their knees give out and the two of them sit on the cold concrete ground. Felix’s cries lost to
the wind as the two of them break right there in the empty space with only one witness.
Standing near the park, Hyunjin watches the silhouettes of both his brothers breaking down,
crying against each other and something inside him dies.
Being raised with a man who abused him, Hyunjin had learnt a lot of things in life very early.
He’d learnt how to survive alone and he’d learnt that no one could ever be trusted. Not the
man who beat him daily, not the boy who’d befriended him and then left him.
But then he’d met Chan and at first he really hadn’t trusted him…until he found out why
Chan had taken him in. Maybe it was in the blood, maybe Chan just never gave him any
other reason to distrust him but Hyunjin had let his guard down without even realising it.
Chan was meant to be the barrier between him and jail, Chan was meant to be someone who
would always be there.
He wasn’t meant to die of cancer and leave them here.
Hyunjin hadn’t survived this long by forming attachments to people who would leave him.
He’d be damned if he started now. The only thing in this world he can trust is Jeongin.
Jeongin belongs to him.
And a small part of him will never admit it, but he doesn’t think he can watch Chan get sick
and die. He just can’t watch that.
His shoulder aches. Jeongin is going to freak out when he sees it but Hyunjin turns to head
home anyway. Keep going forward. This is for the best.
For Jeongin. For his safety. For himself.
Wolgang Pa burns painfully on his back, a reminder of where he’s going now.
He doesn’t look back.
Chapter End Notes
Whew. Despite the stress of my new job (and anyone who follows me on Twitter might
have seen me ranting about my new and difficult boss) writing came smoother than last
time.
Maybe I needed the outlet.
I debated with myself over and over what to do about Minho's cats. Because you know
PM Bang is an asshole and he would have been cruel enough to have all four fluffballs
shot buuuut ultimately I decided to keep them alive.
Mainly because I believe Minho would have made things harder for PM Bang if
anything happened to them but also because I just can't kill the animals.
Humans? Fine. Animals? Ugh it hurts to even write it.
I mean I will and I have but in this particular instance I saw no reason to do it other than
to simply be cruel.
...and considering what's coming up, I decided you'd have enough pain without needing
to add the cats to it.
Also, a note about the ATEEZ side fic. It's on hold for now whilst the end of this story
plays out. Thus, there will be some spoilers for that side revealed in this side but it's
okay. You'll get clearer scenes ATEEZ specific in the other story. They're linked so this
was kind of inevitable but I want to concentrate on the SKZ side first.
I love you all, this week has been especially hard for me. I've been anxious and crying a
lot and I really loved writing this chapter because I needed the catharsis but what got me
through this week was definitely you guys and your comments. (I was reading them
whilst pretending to be working so my horrible boss wouldn't load more work on me, so
thank you)
We're almost there! See you soon!
Love, Zara.
XXXI: Carpe Noctem
Chapter Notes
Nothing left to say really. We're not at the end yet.
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
Dawn barely breaks upon the horizon of Busan. In the midst of a police shortage, people
evacuating and murders popping up all over the city, one house just on the outskirts of the
city remains rather calm.
The earliest peeks of orange and pink hues flit through the curtains that gently billow with the
wind coming in from the open window. Morning dust particles float in the sunbeams but
neither of the occupants of the bedroom take any notice.
Curled in each other, Jeongin’s hand slides gently down Hyunjin’s back. Taking in every
ounce of warm skin and muscle he feels as the other takes his lips and holds him down
underneath him. Jeongin had woken early, a routine nightmare about the asylum and instead
of going back to sleep, the two had opted instead to spend the earliest morning wrapped in
each other.
Not a bad plan in Jeongin’s opinion.
Their lips are swollen, cheeks pink and lungs struggling for air but neither mind. The way
Hyunjin’s hand sifts gently through Jeongin’s hair has him shivering. He tilts his head back
when Hyunjin kisses his neck, biting and leaving little marks here and there whilst his hand
slides down the side of Jeongin’s body.
Hyunjin slides his nose up the side of Jeongin’s jawline, nuzzling lovingly as he pulls himself
up and leans over Jeongin, one elbow on the pillow to keep him propped up. Jeongin reaches
for Hyunjin’s hair, letting the soft locks slide through his fingers as the other hovers over him,
a sleepy sort of smile on his face.
“Hi,” Jeongin breathes.
“Hi.”
“Why’d you stop?”
“Because if I didn’t you were going to die of asphyxiation,” Hyunjin points out with a
crooked grin. “Breathe, Innie.”
Jeongin pouts. He makes a point of taking in one deep breath, making sure his bare chest
rises and falls underneath Hyunjin’s frame. He then tries to lock his arms around Hyunjin’s
shoulders to pull him down for more kisses but the other just laughs and keeps himself up.
“Ngh,” Jeongin whines. “Come here.”
“You’re so demanding.”
“Yes I am, now come back here and love me.”
Hyunjin’s laughter, especially in the morning when he’s too tired to remember why he should
be angry, is the most beautiful sound in the world. He almost giggles, gleeful as he resists
Jeongin trying to pull him down and braces his hands on either side of Jeongin’s head in an
effort to keep himself up.
“Come baaaack,” Jeongin whines as he locks his legs around the other to keep him on top of
him.
“No,” Hyunjin laughs. “You need a break.”
“No I don’t, I need you.”
He moves his hand down to Hyunjin’s side and he doesn’t expect it to work but when his
fingers brush just over the left side of his ribcage, Hyunjin lets out a shrieking laugh and
collapses on top of Jeongin completely.
Jeongin wraps himself around Hyunjin, clinging to him like a panda but there’s a huge smile
on his face.
“Are you ticklish?”
“No.”
“Sounded like you were.”
“I am not-no get away!”
Hyunjin has never made that sound before. A kind of shriek and a laugh as he rips himself
out of Jeongin’s hold and tries to scramble to the other side of the bed when Jeongin tries
tickling his side. Unfortunately because the bed is against the wall, there really is only so far
he can go before Jeongin is on him again with his wiggling fingers brushing over Hyunjin’s
sides.
Hyunjin tries to kick but Jeongin is already settled between his legs, a gleefully evil look on
his face as he tickles all the spots that make Hyunjin squirm. Through gasps and giggles,
Hyunjin manages to hook his arm around Jeongin and push himself forward, surprising
Jeongin long enough for Hyunjin to roll them over and pin Jeongin back down on the bed
where he was before.
He even makes a point of collecting Jeongin’s wrists and pinning them down beside either
side of his head.
Jeongin pouts. “You’re no fun.”
He tries to squirm but Hyunjin’s full weight is sitting on him and Jeongin is all too aware just
how thin the layers are between them. His cheeks start to bloom a pretty shade of pink and
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow.
“Hmm? Am I bothering you?”
“No,” Jeongin lies as he tries to ignore the way Hyunjin just wiggled his hips.
Evil prick.
“Oh? I can just get off you-”
“No!”
That smile is back on his face again, amused and perhaps a little sadistic but it makes Jeongin
melt every time. It feels like that within these walls. In the safety of these walls, Hyunjin is
like this. He smiles, he laughs, he plays. Jeongin watches the prettiest sides of him, the softest
sides only in this room.
He’s always sad to have to get up and leave this space.
Hyunjin leans down, his lips kissing Jeongin’s once more and Jeongin feels something warm
bloom in his chest. His wrists are released and the second they are, he winds his arms around
Hyunjin’s shoulders to hold him closer.
“Let’s just stay here,” he murmurs against Hyunjin’s searching lips. “Let’s never leave.”
“You know we can’t,” Hyunjin mumbles as his hand curls into Jeongin’s soft locks of hair.
“Too much shit to do-”
“Ugh, no,” Jeongin whines. His grip on the other tightens and he hugs him closer. “Stay here
with me.”
“You have to go to work.”
“No I don’t.”
“I have shit to do.”
“No you don’t.”
“Innie…”
“Hyunjin,” Jeongin retorts, mimicking the light warning tone Hyunjin had taken. He looks up
at his beautiful face hovering over him and feels something painful tighten in his chest. It sits
there like a rock, unmoving and uncomfortable. Anxiety.
Because what happens outside these walls is not just losing this side of Hyunjin. It’s
everything else. It’s Chan’s deteriorating condition, it’s the fact that Hyunjin isn’t in God’s
Menu anymore, it’s Felix being clinically depressed but Changbin can’t understand why.
The only people who are actually happy out there are Minho and Jisung - and after all the shit
they went through, Jeongin feels nothing but relief for the two of them.
Three weeks ago, when the others had heard about Hyunjin leaving - and why - they’d damn
near lost their minds. Jeongin was suddenly bombarded with questions before they all
realised that Jeongin knew about as much as they did - next to nothing. Jeongin had been
careful not to imply that Chan’s condition had anything to do with Hyunjin’s departure and
for that, he could see Chan was grateful for it.
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder when Chan planned on telling the rest of God’s Menu.
Now the only people who didn’t seem to know about it were Jisung, Changbin and
Seungmin.
Hyunjin’s nose nuzzles against his. His mother used to call those ‘eskimo kisses’ and despite
the comparison, Jeongin feels nothing but warmth and safety when Hyunjin does it. Tender,
gentle, so unlike what he’s like when he gets out of this bed.
His hand brushes over Hyunjin’s back and feels the burn at his shoulder blade. The imprint of
the wolf symbol scarred into his skin and in response, Hyunjin shivers. The burn will be there
forever, it was a third-degree branding and the only thing Jeongin could do was apply ice to
it.
Apply ice and tell Hyunjin how much of an idiot he is.
“I want to try something with you, Innie,” Hyunjin says, the soft look in his eyes changing
into something else, something Jeongin can’t read just yet.
Jeongin blinks. “Try what?”
There’s a reserved look on Hyunjin’s face. Uncharacteristic for him. Whenever Hyunjin does
something relatively new, he rarely stops to take the time to talk about it - he just does it and
trusts that if Jeongin doesn’t like it, he’ll say so.
“I want to try and change your nightmares,” Hyunjin continues slowly. “Change your…
perception.”
Jeongin frowns. His nightmares are about looming, long corridors. They’re about needles,
doctors in masks, straitjackets and barred doors. They’re about silence and loneliness and the
very thought makes him shiver.
“...how?”
Hyunjin tucks a lock of Jeongin’s hair behind his ear and meets his gaze.
“You can say no at any point, I’ll stop. No questions asked, okay?”
Swallowing hard, Jeongin nods and watches as Hyunjin gets off him and walks over to the
other side of the room. Sitting up in bed, he watches Hyunjin dig through one of the drawers
on the desk before bringing out a white piece of material that, at first glance, appears to be a
jacket.
Then he brings it closer and Jeongin starts when he realises it’s a straitjacket. The buckles,
the long sleeves, the white canvas fabric, there’s no mistaking it. Hyunjin brings it to the bed
and sits down, watching the way Jeongin tenses and pushes himself against the headboard.
“It’s just a thing,” Hyunjin reminds him gently. “Innie, it’s just a thing.”
Jeongin nods but his heart is in his throat and it’s hammering at three times its normal speed.
His fingertips clench on the bed as he watches the straitjacket in Hyunjin’s hands. It’s
perfectly folded, almost innocently so, a dormant version of the stretched out thing that was
always clamped onto him.
“Do you wanna touch it?”
Jeongin shakes his head and Hyunjin gently sets it on the bed in the space between them. He
shuffles back, his legs crossing as he sits across from Jeongin and watches him closely.
“It’s just a thing, Innie,” he reminds him. “It’s not going to hurt you.”
Jeongin sniffles. Some of his worst and most torturous memories have been whilst bound
inside this thing. Bound, crying, rocking on the floor alone and neglected whilst the voices in
his head took over. In this jacket, it felt like he had no control because he really didn’t. Not
just physically but mentally as well, it was like the demons in his mind were only waiting for
the right time to take over and they did - every time.
Hyunjin crawls across the bed and sits behind Jeongin. He brings his arms around him,
pulling Jeongin’s back to his chest until Jeongin is all but sitting between his legs. His hands
rub up and down his arms, willing him to calm down whilst his lips press gentle kisses along
the back of Jeongin’s head. In his hair, against his neck, his cheek.
“I’m right here,” Hyunjin whispers as he presses one hand against the left side of Jeongin’s
chest, right over his heart. “Breathe with me, Innie. In and out, follow me.”
Closing his eyes, Jeongin concentrates on Hyunjin’s breathing. His own is shaky as he tries to
follow.
Hyunjin’s breathing is slow and calm. His warmth seeps into Jeongin’s bones and his hands
are gentle, lovingly caressing up and down his arms. Eventually, Jeongin’s shoulders sag a
little as he finally relaxes and opens his eyes to look at the straitjacket on the bed.
Hyunjin’s arm locks around his middle, holding him and grounding him as Jeongin slowly
reaches out to touch the material. His fingers brush the tough fabric and he shivers at the
memories it wrenches to the forefront of his mind. How many times has he touched this and
cried? How many times was he wrapped in this exact same fabric until he couldn’t feel his
arms anymore?
He pulls his hand back and curls into Hyunjin.
“What…” he has to swallow and steady himself before he can speak again. “What are you…
planning on doing with that?”
“Nothing without your consent,” Hyunjin tells him. “You’re in control this time, Innie.
Whatever you decide to do, I’ll follow without question. I just want you to have a different
memory with a straitjacket.”
Jeongin frowns, he turns his head to look up at Hyunjin. “You think that’ll change my
nightmares?”
“It might. It’s worth a shot.”
Hyunjin’s hands are comforting, gently caressing his body as he turns back to look at the
straitjacket. Jeongin swallows hard, his mind struggles to focus at first but as Hyunjin’s
warmth sinks into him, his kisses at the back of his neck and the beat of his heart thumping
against his back, Jeongin slowly begins to calm.
He looks over the fabric and turns to look back up at Hyunjin.
“Can you wear it?”
Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate at all, he smiles and holds out his arms.
It’s different putting it on someone else. Jeongin pulls the straitjacket open, wincing at all the
belts and buckles that dangle from the fittings. He leans over Hyunjin, carefully sliding each
arm into the long sleeves until the fabric is snug against his chest. Hyunjin then leans forward
a little, obediently letting Jeongin wrap his arms around himself so the sleeves can be
fastened at the back.
“Bit tighter,” Hyunjin advises, leaning forwards so Jeongin can fasten the buckles. “It’s too
loose.”
Jeongin frowns. “I don’t want to actually hurt you.”
“Those nurses didn’t care about that, did they?” Hyunjin shoots back. “Neither did the
doctors. Tie me up as tight as they tied you up.”
Jeongin looks down at the buttons and remembers all the time they tightened the buckles and
sleeves. Every time he acted up, they’d tighten it just a little more, always until they heard
something in Jeongin’s arms click. He remembers the straitjacket pinching him, wound too
tight around him and it’s with this thought in mind that he reaches down and yanks at one of
the buckles so hard Hyunjin actually chokes.
“Ooff,” he wheezes, a breathless chuckle following as Jeongin tightens the knots. “Good
puppy.”
“I’m starting to think you’re a secret masochist, Hyunjin.”
“Took you long enough, I’ve been a masochist for years.”
Jeongin fastens the last buckle in place and helps Hyunjin rest his back against the wall. He
sits back to look over him and the sight takes his breath away.
It’s unfair that Hyunjin somehow manages to make a straitjacket look hot but he does. Sitting
there with messy hair, both arms bound around himself and that godawful smirk on his face.
Perhaps a mentally sane person would take one look at this and recognise all the glaringly
obvious red warnings blinking right in their faces but all Jeongin felt was strangely turned on.
“Fuck…”
“I mean…I can if you want,” Hyunjin offers with a restricted shrug. “You’d have to do all the
work though. I’m kind of tied up here.”
A thought occurs to Jeongin. Sudden, strange, but there in his head and impossible to ignore.
He pauses as he looks over the straitjacket and tilts his head.
Hyunjin notices the change in his face and frowns. “You alright?”
“Yeah…” Jeongin trails off, still half in thought.
After a moment of thinking it through, he reaches behind Hyunjin and starts undoing the
buckles and straps. Hyunjin lets out a small groan when his arms are finally released and
brought back to his front where Jeongin carefully peels the jacket off him.
Jeongin then turns the jacket around, puts it in Hyunjin’s hands and holds his arms out.
Hyunjin doesn’t question it, maybe a more empathetic person would. After all, given the
trauma Jeongin had gone through with straitjackets, no sane person would suggest trying it
on for any other purpose. But Hyunjin sits up and starts pulling the straitjacket on Jeongin
instead.
First one arm, then the next, he shifts around so he’s sitting behind Jeongin as he starts
fastening the buckles and pulling the sleeves around Jeongin’s back.
It’s as he’s pulling the fourth buckle that he starts to hear Jeongin’s breathing speeding up.
Hyunjin leans in, he rests his chin on Jeongin’s shoulder as his hands work on fastening the
buckles at his back. He blows a small gust of air against Jeongin’s ear and feels the other
shiver.
“I’m here,” he assures the other. “It’s just me.”
His hand pulls hard against one of the restraints, smiling when he hears Jeongin whimper in
response.
“Why…?” Jeongin swallows hard and turns his head as much as he can to see Hyunjin.
“Why so hard?”
Hyunjin blows air against Jeongin’s neck again and watches him shiver. “Don’t want you
escaping me.”
Jeongin shivers and Hyunjin notes how the other doesn’t actually tell him to loosen the
restraints. Instead Jeongin tries wriggling his arms and thanks to the buckles, his movements
are very restricted.
He moves around to see him from the front and he has to pause to really take it in. Jeongin
watches the look in Hyunjin’s eyes darken, his eyes dilate a little as he takes the full view in.
Jeongin wrapped up in a straitjacket is something he’d only been told about but to see it with
his own eyes.
“Jesus, Innie…” he breathes.
Jeongin shifts forward, relying mostly on his legs to push him towards Hyunjin. He leans up
to take his lips and that seems to be all the encouragement Hyunjin needs because the next
thing he knows, he’s lying on his back with Hyunjin’s body on top of him and Hyunjin’s lips
taking his harder than before.
He kisses until Jeongin is only breathing him in. Until their lips are swollen and their cheeks
are pink for lack of air. Jeongin wants to touch him, he wants to hold him but his arms are
restrained and it’s all he can do to lean his head up and follow Hyunjin’s lips. He can feel
Hyunjin’s hands on his body, sliding down his sides, holding his hips and feeling his thighs.
It all makes Jeongin shiver with need.
Somehow Hyunjin manages to pull back, his eyes wilder than Jeongin ever remembers them
being. Hyunjin’s eyes are hooded with thick need as he whispers, breathless and insanely
turned on.
“Do you want to stop?”
“No.”
“Do you want to take it off?”
After seeing the effect it has on Hyunjin? Jeongin’s elbows are starting to ache and he can’t
really breathe in this but there’s a part of him that wants Hyunjin to eat him alive.
“No.”
“Do you want me to take over?”
“Yes.”
The speed at which Hyunjin undresses him knocks the air right out of Jeongin’s lungs. The
other is almost unhinged, he kisses Jeongin’s lips, he bites his neck, his hands grab and feel
every inch of skin he reveals from the waist down but the straitjacket stays on.
Without the use of his arms, all Jeongin can do is pull him in with his legs, his head tilting
back and a moan escaping his lips when he feels Hyunjin’s mouth on his neck. He’s so
preoccupied with the sounds Hyunjin makes, panting and almost animalistic, that he doesn’t
even realise the other is already prepping him until he feels fingers at his entrance and
squeaks in surprise.
It doesn’t take much. It really doesn’t take much. Jeongin had already been wanting him
since their makeout session this morning and this just made it worse. He keeps trying to lift
his head to take Hyunjin’s lips, move his hips towards Hyunjin’s fingers and he can’t help the
needy sounds coming out from his throat.
His entire body feels like it’s burning, exacerbated by the straitjacket impeding his
movements. When Hyunjin finally pushes inside of him, Jeongin almost chokes as he throws
his head back and arches his back.
He’s completely helpless. He can’t use his arms, he can’t move, the only part of him that can
is his legs and he’s trying to wrap them around Hyunjin’s waist. Hyunjin wastes absolutely no
time either, he sounds just as needy, just as riled up as he grabs Jeongin’s bare waist and starts
pounding into him.
It’s different from their normal sessions. Charged with something….else. Jeongin feels like
all his nerve endings are on fire, the heels of his feet are digging into the mattress as he tries
like hell to meet every one of Hyunjin’s thrusts and he feels like he’s hyperventilating.
Hyunjin has never grabbed him so hard, fucked him so hard, Jeongin’s seeing stars behind his
eyelids. He can hear the sounds of him whimpering and gasping but can’t recognise it as him
right away because all he can focus on is how good it feels.
Then Hyunjin pulls out and flips him over. Straitjacket and all, Jeongin is flipped onto his
stomach and his hips are pulled up until he’s bent over with his knees and his head holding
him up. Hyunjin enters him this time and he seems to go deeper, dragging out a loud gasp
from Jeongin.
Jeongin couldn’t have seized control of this situation even if he wanted to. He’s completely
helpless to every thrust, every spark of pleasure rushing through him. He moves his head,
burying his face in the pillow as his end creeps up on him too fast and takes him by surprise.
He almost forgets to breathe as his body spasms under Hyunjin’s tight grip on him.
For a blissful, almost heavenly moment it’s like he goes somewhere else. Somewhere warm,
safe, where he only feels good. But then he crashes back to earth when Hyunjin’s hand on the
back of his head turns his face and air rushes back into his lungs with a gasp.
Jeongin’s eyes flutter, he feels so good that he’s barely conscious of anything else. He only
distantly notes when Hyunjin’s hands grip his hips harder and a barely restrained grunt
signals Hyunjin’s end.
They both sink back into the mattress, breathing hard, pink faced, bruised and marked with
nails. Jeongin’s arms ache, his back aches, his chest aches and the straitjacket is on too tight
but for the life of him he can’t be bothered to gather the energy to ask to have it taken off
him.
“Innie,” Hyunjin breathes, breaking the silence after a few moments. “Are you okay?”
Jeongin is sore, he’s breathless but he feels so good. Even wrapped up like this, his body still
zings from Hyunjin’s attentions. He can’t even process the fact that he just had sex in a
straitjacket, a psychologist would have a field day with that one.
“Mm’ok…”
“Yeah?”
Jeongin’s eyes flutter shut, he thinks he mumbles something back but he can’t be sure
because he’s unconscious in seconds.
When Chan wakes up, the first thing he sees is a head of golden hair. It’s starting to become a
normal sight in the mornings, over the last three weeks all Felix has done is cling to him and
it’s not surprising. It’s exactly what Chan had been trying to avoid.
They’re lying on Felix’s bed, the yellow curtains shading his bedroom in a warm yellow glow
as the sun shines through them. His window is open and Chan can distantly hear the sounds
of the morning traffic as the breeze flutters the curtains and cools the stifling bedroom.
Felix is curled into his chest, his arms tight around him and it’s been a nightly occurrence
now. He calls Chan over, he cries, sometimes he drinks and then he passes out hugging Chan
as close as he can. It’s been three weeks since he found out and he’s done exactly what Chan
feared he would.
Pressing a kiss to Felix’s forehead, Chan gently pulls himself out of Felix’s hold and gets up.
He grabs his bag from where it sits next to the nightstand and pulls out a few pills before
wandering into the kitchen in search of water.
It’s getting worse. His head pounds almost every single day now and he can’t get through one
day without his vision wavering in and out at random times. Eating is difficult as well as he
can barely keep anything down - at this rate, the others are bound to figure it out themselves,
something is very wrong with him.
He leans against the kitchen sink and pours himself a glass before downing the pills and
willing them to work fast.
One week. He just needs to hang on for one more week. On the night of election, everything
will be revealed and he has to stay alive long enough to see it through. For himself, for
everyone he loves, he can’t die now.
Not yet. Just a little longer.
His legs shake as he pushes himself off the kitchen counter and makes his way to the
bathroom. He has to force himself through the shower, gripping the wall as his head spins
with dizziness. Then he has to keep the water going so Felix won’t hear him stumbling out of
the shower to throw up in the toilet.
It takes him a little longer than usual but by the time he’s pushed himself through the shower,
through vigorously brushing his teeth and washing his face, he looks somewhat decent
enough to leave the bathroom.
Felix is just stirring when Chan comes into the bedroom and leans down to grab his bag.
“...Chan?”
“Hey,” Chan smiles. “I’ve gotta go, there’s a meeting.”
“What? No,” Felix protests sleepily as he sits up and reaches for Chan. “Come back here.”
“Lix,” Chan sighs tiredly. “I promise I’m not going to keel over today.”
“You look like shit,” Felix points out, his arms still stretched out towards Chan. “Come back
to bed and sleep.”
“Lix, you know I have stuff to do,” Chan says but he puts his bag down anyway and climbs
onto the bed.
Felix’s arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him down. For a moment, Chan lets himself
be hugged, he buries his face in Felix’s hair and wraps his arms around him. Felix always
feels so small in his hold, somehow he’s smaller now and Chan can’t help but feel sorry for
being the reason.
This was what he’d been trying to avoid. This was exactly what he didn’t want happening
and the only saving grace is that Jisung and Changbin don’t know about it yet. If they all
knew, it would make doing anything impossible.
“Lix,” he whispers, his hand rubbing Felix’s back as he feels the other shaking slightly. “I’ll
be okay, I promise.”
A sniff. “You can’t promise me that,” Felix mumbles, his voice a little choked up as he starts
crying again. “You can’t promise me anything right now.”
Chan closes his eyes, he squeezes Felix tight and gently pulls back so he can see Felix’s face.
With his sleeve, he wipes the tears from Felix’s cheek and ruffles his hair fondly.
“I promise I’ll be right back here tonight,” he tells Felix. “I promise I’m not gonna die today.
I promise no matter what happens today, I will come back to you if you want me to.”
“I do.”
“Then I will. But you need to let me go, Lix. There’s things I need to do.”
Another tear slips from Felix’s eyes and Chan rubs it gently with his sleeve. Then another
escapes and Chan dabs at his face again, and again and again until Felix laughs through his
tears.
“Stop poking my eyes.”
“I will when you stop leaking,” Chan teases, his damp sleeve dabbing at Felix’s face again.
“There’s a leak somewhere, we need to fix it with a screwdriver.”
Felix laughs again, this time a little more genuine and Chan knows he’s going to be late for
this meeting but it’s somehow worth it just to see Felix laugh. He doesn’t do that much these
days.
“Might have to use duct tape,” Felix suggests as Chan wipes off the last of his tears. “Just
tape my tear ducts closed.”
“Or use a cork.”
Felix shoots him an incredulous look, his shoulders shaking as he laughs at the thought. It’s
probably not even really that funny but they’re both so tired and strung out that right now,
anything is funny and infinitely better than crying all day.
Chan rubs Felix’s hair out of place and gently pushes himself up again. He crawls off the bed
and leans down to grab his bag.
“I’ll be back later,” he promises before a thought comes to mind and he turns around to look
at Felix. “What does Bin think about me staying over all the time?”
Felix shrugs. “He’s kind of been busy with Wolgang,” he confesses. “Bin doesn’t really know
either. I don’t really feel like explaining it - especially if he doesn’t know you’re sick. You
really should tell him.”
“I know,” Chan sighs. “Gimme time. I’ll tell him eventually.”
One week. Just one more week.

He turns to leave but before he can, Felix reaches over to grab his sleeve. Chan pauses and
looks down to see Felix watching him, a reserved and hesitant look on his face.
“If…” Felix begins slowly. “If you see Hyunjin…”
Something in Chan twinges at the thought of him. When Hyunjin had left that night, he
hadn’t come back. Jeongin came to work on his own, Hyunjin didn’t go near the restaurant
and he didn’t answer calls either. The murders in Busan had ramped up and the city was
starting to become truly dangerous.
Unexplained fires, bodies turning up on the news, the police were stretched thin here and it
was starting to gain national attention. It wasn’t just Wolgang Pa rising from the ashes but
other smaller gangs were seeing the havoc they were wreaking and taking the opportunity to
join in.
Robberies, murders, vandalism, Busan was a very dangerous place to be in right now.
Chan didn’t have any proof but he knew that somehow, somehow Hyunjin was right in the
middle of it.
The thought hurt because this was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid. If Hyunjin only
gave him more time…if Hyunjin hadn’t found out…
But it’s not all Hyunjin’s fault. Chan knows it’s not. It’s his fault too, he should have told
Hyunjin, he should have let him in on his plans, he should have told him he’d do anything to
protect him. All of them.
One more week. Just one more week.
“Look after Innie,” he tells Felix. “If he blacks out, do what I told you to do.”
Something in the air felt charged today.
It’s something Jisung’s mother used to say when he was younger, back in her ‘everything is
connected and the moon dictates our cycles’ phase, she used to say one could feel it in the air.
The charge in the atmosphere, the winds of change. The feeling that something was coming
and innately, humans always knew whether that something was good or bad.
For Jisung, he couldn’t tell if it was because he hadn’t heard from his parents since he told
them he was gay or because he ate something that didn’t agree with his stomach but the
rumblings in his gut were telling him something wasn’t right.
“Maybe you should take today off,” Minho suggests as he watches Jisung wince when
another rumble scares off Soonie who was lounging on the floor near him. “You’re scaring
the cats, lie down, baby.”
“Can’t,” Jisung groans, one hand over his stomach as he sifts through his pile of clothing in
the closet. “Gotta go to work. You know Chan can’t find cover these days, everyone’s
running from Busan.”
Minho clicks his fingers until Soonie comes to him. He lets the cat settle next to his hand and
pets it reassuringly. Not that Soonie really gives a shit whether or not Jisung is suffering but
the stomach rumblings definitely unsettled him.
Jisung makes a mess on the floor, one hand pulling clothes out whilst he searches. Minho sits
in the middle of the bed, his phone out in front of him as the recent headlines scramble
between reporting about the riots in Busan versus the upcoming results of the election -
apparently it’s a close race between Prime Minister Bang and Kwang Yoseob.
“Maybe that second cereal wasn’t a good idea,” he suggests after he hears another unhappy
rumble from Jisung’s stomach. “I can find some painkillers if you like?”
“Please.”
Minho hops off the bed and heads towards the bathroom cabinet, smiling when he hears
Jisung groan in pain behind him. He shouldn’t be happy but lately he’s been nothing but
happy. Despite the world crashing down around his ears, despite the city literally burning
down around him, having Jisung in his life again seems to have put him in a permanently
good mood.
Which is kind of a blessing considering no one in God’s Menu seems all that happy.
“I’ve been thinking,” Jisung is saying as he comes back to hand him pills. “We should go
away when all this is over.”
Minho sits down on the end of the bed, he watches his boyfriend chuck the pills back dry
before he pulls his shirt off and dresses into his uniform instead.
“Go away where?”
“Anywhere that isn’t South Korea,” Jisung replies, his voice muffled as he gets his head
stuck in the shirt momentarily. “How about Malaysia?”
“Well…our last trip out of the country didn’t go so bad,” Minho shrugs. “And it might be
safer to get out of here for a bit…when things are over that is.”
“We can take the cats,” Jisung gasps for air when his head finally pokes through the neck
hole of his shirt. “Travel around the world, mark every city with our love-”
“You mean fuck on every single surface we see.”
“Baby, I was trying to be romantic,” Jisung mutters, rolling his eyes as he fixes his shirt and
turns to look at Minho properly. “I just want to get away from this mess. Just for a bit and I’d
really like you all to myself for once.”
Minho beams. When he’s with Jisung it’s too easy to forget how bad things are out there. It’s
like being on drugs or wearing rose-tinted glasses that just don’t come off. It’s a nice change
from the depression that had been constantly gripping him before, this perpetual state of
happiness was welcome.
“Wherever I am, as long as it’s with you, I’m happy,” he says, watching the steady blush rise
up Jisung’s cheeks.
“Hyung,” he complains as his lips stretch into a smile he can’t control. “Don’t sneak up on
me with cheesy lines like that. That’s my job.”
Minho grins as he slides off the bed and goes to find his uniform to get ready for the day.
They’re going to be late and he just can’t find it in himself to care much, with God’s Menu
steadily winding up (as a precaution, Chan and Changbin had spent the last week thoroughly
getting rid of all the bodies in the freezer) things were slowing down on their end despite the
chaos in the city.
One more week. Just one more week. All they had to do was get through the elections, see
through Chan’s plan to the end and they’d all be free.
He’s just fastening the sash around his waist when he feels Jisung’s body cuddling up behind
him. Jisung’s arms wrap around him from behind and Minho leans back naturally. He feels
Jisung taking his finger and looks down in time to see Jisung sliding a silver band over his
ring finger.
Minho’s eyes widen. He’s in such a state of shock that it takes him a good ten seconds to
recognise what this is, what Jisung is silently asking of him and when it hits him all at once,
there’s only one answer.
Minho turns around to see an uncharacteristically insecure look on Jisung’s face, hopeful and
guarded. Like he’s not sure if he’s going too fast or if Minho is about to reject him.
“Yes,” Minho breathes, his arms wrapping around Jisung’s shoulders as he leans in to kiss
him. “Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes!”
He lands short, loving pecks on Jisung’s lips, on his cheek, his jawbone his nose and Jisung
laughs as he picks him up to spin him around the room. This is the kind of cheesy scene
Minho would have gagged at, it’s the kind of scene Jisung would have watched for in dramas
and cried about but it’s here and for the moment, neither of them are sorry for it.
They’re an hour late for work after that. Neither of them care.
On the outskirts of the city, closer to the docks, there is a warehouse.

For perhaps 362 days out of the year, the warehouse remains completely abandoned. It stands
tall, two stories high and neglected with broken windows, dusty surfaces, missing floorboards
and stairs. Day and night, the dust particles roam unhindered and undisturbed.
But on the rare nights of the year, the warehouse is alive. It’s loud with booming music,
screaming voices and thumping boots. It’s lit up with colours and blinding lights and in the
light of the day, Hyunjin paces along the dusty wooden flooring as he watches groups and
groups of people setting up for the party of the night.
The Ascension, they called it. The night when all of Wolgang Pa (not counting Wooyoung
and San) come together to acknowledge the man who will take over all of them. The one man
they’ll follow until Wolgang Pa rises from the ashes and becomes what it was once more.
“How’s security?” Minjun asks, leading Hyunjin through the throngs of people wandering
past as they ready the warehouse for the night.
“Guards at every entrance,” Hyunjin replies, dodging someone who struggles to carry a large
set of lights. “Fully armed, more at the fence.”
“Good,” Minjun hums. “What about sajangnim?”
“In hiding,” Hyunjin answers, his gaze tilting upwards to watch at least five men setting up
the spotlights near the ceiling. “Since that massacre, he’s been hiding.”
“I’d wager my brother is with him,” Minjun huffs in disapproval. He turns to look at Hyunjin.
“But no matter, once all of Wolgang Pa acknowledges me as their new leader, I’ll take care of
Wooyoung and bring San to my side again. Given that the guys here hate him as much as
they hate our sajangnim, probably for the best that San doesn’t show up tonight. They’d tear
him to pieces for what happened with that massacre - some of them were related to high
ranking members of our pa.”
Over Minjun’s shoulder, Hyunjin catches the gaze of one of the guards. The guard nods to
him and goes back to checking the firearms in the crate - a silent signal Minjun completely
misses.
“Surprises me though,” Minjun continues, a pensive look on his face. “I don’t buy that little
Jung Wooyoung could have been responsible for killing all those guys alone. Not unless they
all lined up in front of him and let him shoot them one by one. Something’s off.”
“Maybe he snapped,” Hyunjin suggests, in the back of his mind he thinks of Jeongin. If
Jeongin were pushed far enough, he’d do it too and Hyunjin knows it.
“Even so,” Minjun frowns. “He was in that meeting with several well armed veteran gang
members as well as the people on the outside who would have probably been unarmed but
stronger than Wooyoung at the very least. I’m not buying it, I just don’t see the little twitch
streamer capable of killing a whole bunch of people just because he lost his mind.”
It was improbable but not impossible that Wooyoung could snap and kill all those men.
Especially if they were doubting him just like Minjun. Still, Hyunjin has to admit to himself,
something’s off about it to him as well. Not enough for him to look into it but enough for him
to realise that Wooyoung probably did not do all of that alone.
“Anyway,” Minjun carries on, his feet taking him ahead as Hyunjin follows behind him. “I’ll
take care of the little shit later. What matters right now is that we do this the right way, the
old way. Wolgang Pa will rise again.”
There’s a large smile on his face when he turns and places his hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder.
“And with you right next to me, no one will dare fuck with me.”
Hyunjin catches several gazes of people standing a little further away. Guys halfway between
installing sound systems, some guards, some lower ranking pa members, all pausing for a
moment to look at Hyunjin behind Minjun’s shoulder. They all watch him, just for a second
and continue with what they were doing before Minjun can notice the pause.
Hyunjin turns his eyes back to Minjun and nods. “Whatever you say, sajangnim.”
The top candidates for the role of the presidency were obvious by now. With the day of
election just one week away, the polls were already heating up between two candidates in
particular.
Prime Minister Bang, known for his connections in the wealthier side of South Korea, had his
name and face plastered everywhere. From the tip of the country to the retreat of Jeju,
nowhere was free of his presence and influence. He was on every screen, every prime time
news report and if they weren’t talking about him and his strong will to lead the country, they
were talking about his son.
The only other candidate who came close to him in terms of voting power was a man named
Kwang Yoseob. Kwang’s strategy was very different to Bang’s, where Bang promoted the
image of ideal families, of economic growth and unprecedented power, Kwang’s appeal to
the public came from a more humanitarian standpoint.
It’s no secret that Kwang doesn’t stand in the wealthier circles like Prime Minister Bang.
He’s not in that world, he comes from Daegu, he talks about keeping people safe and
educated, he talks about making prisons into reform centers to stem reoffending. He’s a father
of three, he’s a supporter of cutting down work hours so people can enjoy their lives more, he
says everything Prime Minister Bang doesn’t.
The only mystery is where the funding for his campaigns come from. Ask Kwang himself
and one would receive a confused face. Kwang didn’t know where he got the money from
either, simply an anonymous donation from someone who supported his cause.
Chan sits in his seat, a tired look on his face as his father paces the office floor.
“The man has nothing I can touch,” his father mutters angrily to himself. “If I’m beaten in the
elections by a Mother Theresa loving, tree-hugger-”
“You won’t,” Chan assures him for the millionth time. “The polls are in your favour and
come hell or high water, the ones who shift the minds of the Blue House are not the people on
the ground. They’re the people in our circles, the ones with money.”
“Still,” his father grumbles as he sits down at his desk. “It’s obvious who the popular vote is.”
“Who cares? Come election day, the people who make things happen are on your side. The
popular vote is not the one that gets into the house.” Chan pinches the bridge of his nose and
sits up straighter in his seat. “Stop worrying about Kwang and worry more about your image.
You need to address the riots happening in Busan, ignoring them is not making people love
you.”
“Ah yes,” his father sighs. “Busan. I’m assuming this is gang related?”
“Yes,” Chan winces. “The police there are stretched very thin, they need outside help and if
the public see you not only supporting this but making it happen, you’ll have this presidency
in the bag.”
His father huffs. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, son, but the police in Seoul are rather
stretched thin as well. Some local gangs are seeing the uprisings in Busan and getting ideas,
we can’t spare them.”
“You can spare the students,” Chan suggests. “Seoul Police Academy. Call it practical
training. They just need more able bodies to help out down there, they don’t need trained
scouts.”
He sees his father pause and consider it. Really consider it. After a moment, his father’s head
nods slowly.
“And I have to be seen supporting this…”
“Yes, it’s good for your image.”
He’s not exactly lying but Chan’s face hides that he has more than one reason for asking for
trainees from Seoul Police Academy.
Reasons his father most certainly does not need to know about.
“Alright,” his father says at last. “I’ll arrange a meeting with the Chief of Police and push the
idea forward. If all goes well, the headlines will be talking about my support for quelling the
riots as early as tomorrow morning.”
Chan wonders if that will be soon enough. He keeps the thought to himself and nods.
“Thank you father.”

Something horrible and cold is dripping in his stomach and making it churn. A gut feeling
that something is wrong.
Jeongin looks over the piece of meat on the counter and tilts his head. It’s been such a long
time since he’s seen any meat aside from human that he almost forgot what it looked like. But
there it is, pale, unmistakable.
“Chicken,” Felix says beside him. “Looks weird, doesn’t it?”
“I think it’s weird that we think it’s weird,” Jeongin admits as he pushes the chicken to one
side and eyes the rest of the packets. “So…no more bodies?”
“Nope, they’re all gone,” Felix sighs in relief as he washes his hands and pulls some gloves
on. “Chan reckons it’s not safe for us to have all the evidence rotting away in the freezer so
close to the election. With so many people looking at him and at the restaurant, the risk was
too high.”
“Getting rid of them was a bitch,” Seungmin admits where he’s busy washing the vegetables.
“I’ve never liked pigs and I like them even less now.”
Jeongin blinks, he glances at the chicken again and turns to look out the window. Despite it
having been three weeks since Hyunjin quit, he still expects to see him there. In his uniform,
gliding past with orders on a tray and a dull look on his face.
All he sees out there is Jisung now.
The thought makes his stomach ache, makes his mind buzz with longing and he has to turn
back to the counter to control himself. The only way he can do that is by forcing himself in
the present moment, by relying on the sound of Seungmin muttering under his breath as he
works, the distant music playing from the speakers in the main room. He has to ground
himself in the feel of the steel bench under his fingers, the sharp kiss of the kitchen knife next
to him, anything that will keep him grounded in the moment and not off in his head.
If he thinks about Hyunjin too much, he starts to lose control and if he loses control, he’ll
black out.
Felix notices the look on his face and reaches over to take his hand. He squeezes it once,
earning a small grateful smile from Jeongin.
“It’s almost over,” he tells him. “One more week and then I suggest we all run away for a
permanent holiday. Let’s go back to Hawaii.”
The thought makes Jeongin smile, he wouldn’t mind going back there. Being alone with
Hyunjin where the worries of the city would be far from his mind. It would be nice.
The day carries on. With the new menu, Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin are almost rushed off
their feet with curious orders. There’s a new feeling in the air as well, they’re not handling
human meat anymore so all of this feels strangely legitimate and above board. It feels like
they’re a normal restaurant at last with nothing to hide.
It’s a strangely cathartic feeling.
But all the while, Jeongin’s stomach churns and churns. The dark feeling growing in his gut
gets worse and worse as the day gets darker and darker. He shoots messages off to Hyunjin
and the other answers him until about 5pm when he stops answering and Jeongin’s anxieties
grow.
Something is wrong. Something is very wrong with today.
Jisung sticks his head into the kitchen about two hours before closing with a desperate look
on his face.
“We’re overrun,” he says. “Fucking Hyunjin, I’m doing this by myself. I need someone to
come out here and take orders.”
“I am neck deep in chicken right now,” Felix calls from the frying pans. “So no.”
Seungmin is already in the freezer getting more supplies because they’d gravely
miscalculated how much they’d need for the day. Then Jisung throws a pleading look at
Jeongin and Jeongin has no choice but to put his utensils down, wash his hands and follow
Jisung out onto the main room.
He’s never been on this side before. Not to work. The tables are full with groups, chatter fills
the air and drowns out the music from the speakers. Minho is at the counter telling people to
either wait or find somewhere else to eat because they’re full.
Jisung wasn’t kidding.
Jisung shoves a notepad into Jeongin’s hands and points to the five tables closest to the
window. “Okay, here’s how we do this. Go around and take orders, all the tables are
numbered. Get the orders back to Seungmin as fast as you can. When he gives you plates, the
table numbers are on the receipt so just bring the plates to the right table. If you get lost, find
either me or Minho, okay?”
Jeongin’s eyes widen and Jisung pats his shoulder.
“You can do this, Innie. If Hyunjin could do it, you can do it. It’s not rocket science, I
promise.”
“Han!” Minho calls. “I need you here!”
Jisung disappears from sight and Jeongin looks ahead at the groups of tables. He’s never seen
God’s Menu this packed before, was it the change of menu that brought them in or something
else? He can hear some of them talking about Chan and can guess that his reputation brought
them here too.
With notebook in hand, Jeongin heads towards the nearest table at the windows and starts
taking orders. They rattle off their orders at the same time and when they see the look on his
face, thankfully, they slow down and go one by one.
Drinks, meals, side dishes, Jeongin tries his hardest to squash down his anxiety long enough
to take them all down.
He used to watch Hyunjin do this very thing. He’d watch him swan around the main room as
though he were walking on air, he’d watch him take orders without needing anyone to repeat
them. He’d hand out dishes and carry more in his arms with the barest amount of effort and
Jeongin didn’t realise how much of a skill it was until just now.
He’s on his third table and sweating a little when he overhears Hyunjin’s name at the fourth
table where a bunch of rowdy looking men are sitting, chatting loudly about the party
happening tonight. Jeongin glances at them and looks down at their arms, jumping a little
when he realises they’re Wolgang Pa.
“You goin to this thing tonight?
“Fuck no. It’s gonna be a bloodbath.”
“That crazy little shit…what’s his name?”
“Hwang Hyunjin. Don’t say that too loudly, the last guy who forgot his name was forced to
have the name branded on his ass…”
Jeongin freezes, his ears straining to listen. He completely forgets about the table he’s
serving, his entire attention honed in on the conversation next to them. This is the first he’s
heard about anything to do with Hyunjin directly since he left.
“Warehouse’s gonna be full of them, it’s gonna be a fucking bloodbath. I ain’t goin’ there.”
“Excuse me!”
Jeongin blinks and turns back to the table he’s serving where three women in their late forties
are all giving him incredulous looks.
“Are you taking our order or not?”
Jeongin drops the notepad and moves to the next table instead, adrenaline rushing through his
bloodstream as he forgets safety and grabs the shoulder of one of the gang members.
“Excuse me,” he says. “Where’s this warehouse?”
The men look up, equal looks of confusion and suspicion on their faces when they see
Jeongin.
“What’s it to you? Aren’t you meant to be taking our orders?”
“Where is it?!” Jeongin demands, his voice a little sharper than before. Panic rushes through
him at the thought of a bloodbath, are they going to kill Hyunjin?
One of the men laughs. “Why? Are you planning on joining? You’d be better off as a whore
in our ranks rather than an actual pa member.”
Jeongin feels their eyes scouring him up and down. The feeling makes him shiver but he
doesn’t move, he needs to know. He takes his hand off the man’s shoulder and stands
properly.
“Tell me where it is,” he demands.
“You wouldn’t last two seconds there,” one of the men laughs. “But sure. Fine. I’m sure the
guys there could do with something to pick their teeth with.”
The others laugh and Jeongin can feel his heartbeat in his ears. All he can see is Hyunjin
lying in a pool of his own blood somewhere in a warehouse tonight. He can’t let it happen, he
needs him. He’ll go insane without him, he’ll die without him.
“You know the shipyards near Dasong? You can’t miss it, the warehouse out there will be
cracking with lights and music tonight,” another man says, a predatory smile on his face as he
makes no secret of raking Jeongin’s body up and down with his eyes. “Maybe we’ll go easy
on you.”
Jeongin heads straight for the kitchen. Behind him, he can hear Jisung and Minho calling for
him, he rushes through the kitchen and ignores Felix and Seungmin doing the same.
“Innie? Innie, where are you going?!”
Jeongin rushes out of the back door and takes off towards the nearest subway station as fast
as his feet can carry him. The others won’t help, he knows this already. They won’t help if
they know where he’s going but he does have enough peace of mind to pull his phone out of
his pocket and call Chan.
He’s still running down the road, the subway station in sight when Chan answers. In the
background he can hear Changbin’s voice and the sound of a voice calling for boarding. An
airport.
“Innie?”
“Hyunjin’s in trouble,” Jeongin rushes to say. “There’s a warehouse in the shipyards near
Dasong. They’re gonna kill him!”
“What? Innie slow down-”

“Just get there! Hurry!”
Jeongin hangs up quickly and pushes himself through the ticket gates, the only thing moving
him forward is single minded adrenaline and fear.
He can’t lose Hyunjin. He just can’t. Somewhere in his body his gut is twisting with anxiety
and the feeling that something tonight is going to go horrifically wrong. Something is coming
and his mind is darkening at the thought.
He won’t be able to stop another black out.
San’s fingers gently brush the soft pad of Wooyoung’s cheek. Their little apartment is quiet,
dark and calm as he leans over the bed to press a small kiss to Wooyoung’s head.
The other isn’t asleep, not yet but he’s getting there. A fair amount of antipsychotics and
alcohol had managed to mellow him out until he was lying there on the bed, his eyes faraway
and his mind calmed at last.
It hadn’t been easy. The last three weeks had been hell. Between Wooyoung’s wracked guilt
torturing him over and over for what he’d done and the fact that they had to hide from
everyone, nothing had been easy. San had barely gotten any rest. Between trying to calm
Wooyoung, keep him away from sharp and pointy objects and just sitting with him, San had
been going through hell ever since the day Wooyoung killed everyone in his board meeting
and outside of it as well.
And Yunho. San’s chest clenches at the thought. Yunho had tried to stop Wooyoung from
snapping, he’d even tried to take the gun out of his hand and that was how he’d gotten shot.
He’d been shot and fell through the window behind him.
Wooyoung cries about him the most. He cries about the lives he’s taken and he’s even talked
so many times about taking his own.
“I can’t stand this, San. I can’t stand this. Just give me the gun, it’ll all be over in seconds,
give me the gun!”
San barely had enough time to cry but when he did, he found himself curled up in a ball,
shaking because he had no idea what could come now. How could they come back from this?
Wolgang Pa wanted him and Wooyoung dead for what happened. Most of the men
Wooyoung killed were high ranking members and family, blood relations to a lot of other
Wolgang members. There was anger, resentment and a murderous outrage, a need to settle
blood with blood.
Changbin had told them both quite clearly: Take one step out of here and you’ll both end up
in boxes.
But staying in here wasn’t doing them much good either. Changbin, to his credit, had tried to
help. He’d gathered the last remaining loyal guards to Wooyoung (a total of 13 guards) and
brought them here to stand guard outside the apartment. In this apartment, Wooyoung had
steadily lost his mind and San wasn’t too far off either.
They couldn’t go on like this.
“Don’t cry, Woo,” San whispers, his finger wiping away a stray tear. “It’ll get better. It has to.
I’ll find something, I’ll make it work, I’ll do anything just don’t cry.”
Wooyoung doesn’t answer. He’s not capable of it. His mind is a million miles away and his
eyes stare straight through San. At least he’s not screaming, crying and trying to hurt himself
anymore but San isn’t sure this is an improvement.
He settles next to the bed and watches Wooyoung’s eyes flutter. When he’s on this many
drugs, he’s incapable of talking. Incapable of thinking. He just stares ahead, eyes glassy, lips
parted…like a doll. He reminds San of a pretty little doll.
There’s almost nothing left of him.
San sniffs and settles back down on the floor. He rubs at his face with his sleeve and takes a
shaking breath. He can’t keep going on like this, neither of them can. There has to be
something that can be done, if he could only take Wooyoung out of here - out of the country.
If they could start somewhere new, if he could bring his Wooyoung back somehow…
Changbin can’t do it. Changbin’s main concern is in keeping them here, safe and away from
Wolgang Pa. They need someone else, someone who will help them get out of here, help
them start anew.
San thinks of his brother. When they were kids, Minjun always looked out for San. Stood up
for him, taught him to fight his own battles, kept him away from their abusive parents. It was
always Minjun who saved him, Minjun who made sure he grew to reach the age he is now.
San glances at Wooyoung and he knows Minjun doesn’t approve of him…but he loves his
brother.
If he could help…if he could find a way to get them out. He would. If it was what San
wanted, he would help. He would even help Wooyoung if San wanted that, San knows his
brother always put him first.
He brings out his phone and tries calling him but Minjun doesn’t answer. Five calls and
Minjun doesn’t pick up. San frowns as he gets up and pulls a blanket over Wooyoung before
heading towards the door and poking his head out. The guard in charge for tonight is named
Lee. Kind of new to the pa, has a wife and family to support and he always did support
Wooyoung.
Probably because Wooyoung isn’t half as bad as everyone else in the pa.
Lee looks up, straightening at the sight of San. “Sir? What did you need?”
“I’m looking for my brother,” San says as he slips outside and closes the door behind him.
“He’s not answering his phone.”
Lee frowns. “Changbin said-”
“I know, but we can’t live like this,” San points out. “I know Changbin said we need to stay
here but we’re going to die in here. If I could find my brother, maybe he can help us get out
of here. He loves me, he’ll do it.”
Lee still looks doubtful but for all his suspicions, Lee still works for San and Wooyoung, not
Changbin.
“Well,” he says, shifting his feet as he thinks. “There were whispers tonight of a party out on
the docks. Most of the pa will be there apparently.”
San frowns. “A party?”
“Yeah…I haven’t heard much about it but if most of the pa is going to be there, I’d wager
your brother will be there too.”
It’s not unusual for Wolgang Pa to hold parties. Any excuse for endless booze, prostitutes and
drugs but for it to be out on the docks means it’s something a little bigger, a little more
significant than an average pissup.
San senses something off.
“Lee, I need you to go in there and look after Wooyoung,” he tells him. “If Changbin comes
round, don’t tell him where I’ve gone. Keep Wooyoung calm, okay? If he asks, tell him I’ve
gone to God’s Menu.”
It would be safer there for him. Safer than him turning up at the docks anyway.
Lee looks a little worried as San pats his shoulder and heads towards the main exit.
“Sir…” Lee tries to call after him. “I really don’t think you should-”
“I’ll be back soon,” San promises as he disappears through the doors and out into the night.
Outside, the sky is darkening as heavy thick rainclouds cover the light of the moon. The rain
begins to pelt the city, putting out fires caused by the ongoing riots, causing citizens to rush
inside for safety. Something truly dark falls over the city of Busan as the docks start to fill
with life and lights of Wolgang Pa.
The warehouse is alive with music that pounds the walls so hard the cheap metal starts to
rattle. On the ground floor, various gang members of varying statuses are getting steadily
drunk. Standing on the stage, Hyunjin’s serene eyes watch as the prostitutes are brought in
and taken by horny old gang men. He watches the tower of booze struggling to keep up with
demand, the terrified slaves in the corner with ropes around their necks.
It’s not the first time he’s been to a gang gathering but something about this one seems
different. Charged with something different. Call it the winds of change or the hunger for
something new, something stronger than what they’ve had.
This pa has been starving for years and with new leadership always comes the promise of
blood and power.
Hyunjin sits in a chair right next to Minjun. Minjun himself seems pretty satisfied with
himself, enjoying the random fights that break out, the rowdy nature of the pa he’d been born
into. The pa he wants to take over and steer to it’s ‘destined place’.
Nothing about Wolgang Pa would be the same after tonight. Hyunjin had made sure of it.
Finally, Minjun stands and holds up his hands. At first the pa doesn’t notice but when
Hyunjin rises to his feet, a hush falls over the warehouse. The music is turned off and eyes
turn to the stage as Minjun stands in front of Hyunjin, his arms out and a large satisfied smile
on his face.
“Brothers,” he says, proud and grandiose. “Welcome to the fucking shindig of the century!”
A roar follows his words, the clang of beer glasses, the stomping of feet and wolf howls.
Hyunjin catches the eyes of one of the guards at the door and nods slowly. It’s almost time.
He’d done what he does best. He’d worked his way not just under Minjun’s skin, but others
as well. People who recognised him for what he was, people who feared him. They feared
and respected him far more than Minjun because he was the one at the front. He was the one
who caused the riots, he was the one with his feet on the ground, bringing back the core
ideals of Wolgang Pa.
Not this jumped up asshole howling on the stage and preaching on about it, the shadow
behind him who actually got his hands dirty doing it.
Meanwhile at the entrance of the warehouse, Jeongin runs in wearing a dark navy blue
Wolgang trenchcoat he’d found off a gang member who’d passed out drunk just down the
road. The guards hadn’t taken much notice of him and he’d walked right past several gang
members who took one look at his trenchcoat and assumed he was one of theirs.
His eyes search the warehouse, widening as they land on the main stage where the attention
is. Hyunjin doesn’t notice him at all but Jeongin freezes at the sight of him. His heart jumping
into his throat as he turns his attention to Minjun.
“Too long have we been squashed underneath a weak puppet!” Minjun carries on as he paces
the stage. “No more! Busan will never forget us again!”
A chorus of howls follow his words and Hyunjin’s eyes flick to another corner of the
warehouse where the men waiting there nod in response.
Through an entrance at the east part of the warehouse, Chan and Changbin rush in. Their eyes
immediately looking around the warehouse for any sign of Jeongin.
“I’ll go this way,” Chan whispers, pointing to his left. “You go that way, meet up again at the
other exit. Try not to be noticed by anyone.”
Changbin nods and heads off to his right as Chan breaks off to the left. His brain is buzzing
with numbing fear, adrenaline pushing his body forward as he gently pushes past gang
members and looks around for Jeongin. Hyunjin, he’ll worry about later, right now his main
concern is Jeongin.
Why the fuck did he come here alone?!
“Wolgang Pa will rise once more!” Minjun promises to his buzzing audience. “We will rule
this fucking city! The way we used to! The way we ought to!”
Something electric is charging through the audience but it’s not what he thinks it is. Minjun
looks over them all and sees only gazes of hunger and devotion. Men who will fight and die
for him to be their leader.
He doesn’t realise they’re not looking at him, they’re looking at Hyunjin.
San runs in through the west entrance, his eyes widening as he looks up just in time to see
Hyunjin pointing a gun at the back of Minjun’s unsuspecting head.
“MINJUN!” San screams, his voice breaking over the warehouse.
All eyes, including Minjun’s turn to him just before a loud and deafening bang blasts through
Minjun’s head.
Jeongin freezes in place, all he can hear is ringing in his ears and the warehouse seems to
slow down around him. He sees Minjun slowly falling to his knees, the smoking gun in
Hyunjin’s hand and the murderous look in his eyes. Jeongin hears a rush of sound sweep past
him, a jarring sound of yelling and screaming as the anger of the gang members around him
are turned towards Choi San.
“It’s him!”
“The faggot’s guard!”
“It’s his brother! Traitor!”
“Where’s your sajangnim now?”
“Join your fucking brother!”
People rush past Jeongin and he can’t understand why until he looks to the left and sees them
overwhelm San. Charged with unadulterated anger and rage, they crush him and Jeongin is in
the perfect position to see the way they maul him like animals.
Jeongin sees blood and in his mind he can hear them. Whimpering like dogs, the crushing of
bone beneath his hands. He sees teeth baring at him when he was too little to defend himself,
flashes of memories invade his mind. San’s screams are drowned by the sound those dogs
made when he killed them. The blood is replaced by blood on his hands.
Jeongin grabs his aching head, a whimper escaping his lips as someone grabs him from
behind.
“Innie! Innie get up!”
Chan. It’s Chan’s voice. Jeongin tries to follow him but it’s too noisy in here, there’s too
much blood, too much chaos, he barely manages to grab Chan’s shoulders to keep himself up.
“We gotta get out of here,” Chan is saying. “Bin! Leave him! He’s dead! We have to go
now!”
Changbin is screaming San’s name and in the midst of this chaos, Jeongin looks up and sees
Hyunjin standing there on the stage. Hyunjin finally looks at him, finally notices him and
those dead eyes widen with surprise and sudden fear.
He sees Hyunjin’s lips form the word ‘Innie’ before Changbin suddenly swims into vision
and grabs Jeongin.
“We gotta go, we gotta go!” Chan is yelling.
Jeongin grabs Changbin’s shoulders and wraps his arms around them as he’s carried out. All
the way out he watches Hyunjin’s lone form on the stage. Changbin rushes them out of the
warehouse and Hyunjin disappears behind the closing doors.
Jeongin doesn’t know why but at that moment, all he can think about is this morning. When
the dawn had warmed their bedroom and they'd curled up together on that bed, in each other's
arms.
“Let’s just stay here,” he’d whispered against Hyunjin’s soft lips. “Let’s never leave.”
Jeongin passes out in Changbin’s hold, his exhausted mind too traumatised to keep him
awake any longer.
When the dust clears over the city and the morning finds Busan a little more wary for it’s
light, it finds Chan, Changbin, Felix, Jeongin, Minho, Jisung and Seungmin gathered in the
kitchen of God’s Menu.
The restaurant is closed. It’s never going to open again. If last night had demonstrated
anything, it was that Wolgang Pa was now under Hyunjin’s control.
Election is in 6 days and Busan is falling apart.
Changbin had gone back afterwards, not just to find San but also to find out what happened
and why. From what he’d managed to glean from drunk gang members is that Hyunjin was
now their sajangnim and he was always going to be. He represented everything they wanted
and he’d taken the time to scout them all as well.
Last night, anyone who still stood with Minjun had been executed without hope for a trial.
Hyunjin had been merciless.
San had died as well. Now Changbin knows that for sure. Once the gang saw him, it was over
and they’d torn him apart. Like fucking animals they’d shot him, stabbed him, stomped him,
torn him to pieces and the person who saw all of that was Jeongin.
Jeongin, who is awake but mostly unresponsive.
Felix’s arms are wound around Jeongin. His chin resting on Jeongin’s head as he rubs his
shoulder and keeps him close. Jeongin is awake but staring out into space as if he’s on drugs,
he doesn’t respond to anyone, doesn’t talk, just stares straight ahead.
“Come back to me Innie,” Felix whispers as the morning light dawns over the kitchen.
“Come back to me. You are loved. We love you so much, you can’t go yet, you can’t leave us
yet.”
Sitting on the benches, Jisung grabs Minho’s hand and holds it tight. Even Seungmin looks
disturbed where he’s leaning on the sink, his eyes averted as he tries to grasp the gravity of
the situation right now.
“Busan is rioting,” Chan summarises for them. “Hyunjin is in charge of Wolgang Pa and San
is dead. We don’t know what Wooyoung is going to do when he finds out-”
“He’s going to kill himself,” Changbin mutters, rubbing a stray tear from his eye at the
thought. “He’s gonna fucking…”
“That’s why we’re going to go tell him ourselves and look after him,” Chan assures
Changbin. “We’ll go to him today and look after him.”
“What about Innie?” Minho asks with a nod to Jeongin’s near-comatose state in Felix’s arms.
“What happened?”
Changbin takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Innie must have witnessed them killing
San. There was so much blood everywhere…if I had to guess, it triggered him.”
“Maybe,” Chan nods slowly. “Maybe he’s been heading this way all along but seeing all that
just wrenched it forward. Either way, he’s not safe with Hyunjin anymore. Not with Hyunjin
as the head of Wolgang Pa, they’ll force Innie into a full on state of psychosis and we’ll lose
him forever - and that’s the lightest possible outcome of what could happen.”
“What do we do now?” Jisung asks. “Are we closing forever?”
Chan nods, a grim look on his face as he thinks it over. “It should be safe here today.
Hyunjin’s target isn’t God’s Menu and he wouldn’t let Wolgang come here if Innie’s here.”
“That’s a gamble and you know it,” Seungmin speaks up. “He could if Innie is what he
wants.”
“He wouldn’t,” Chan assures them. “I don’t know what Hyunjin is planning on doing with
the pa but even he knows that it would be beyond stupid to storm the restaurant with Innie
still in it. He has a reputation to uphold as well, if the gang members find out that he’s gay
and Innie is his lover, that makes both of them targets. He can’t afford that right now and that
keeps us safe for now.”
Seungmin glances at Jeongin and he doesn’t have anything to argue against that. It’s a gamble
but it’s also a solid enough point.
“I don’t want you guys here too long though,” Chan says. “So Felix, stay in the kitchen with
Innie. Seungmin, stay with them. If Innie acts up in any way at all, shows any sign that he
might hurt any of you, do whatever you can to keep him tied up. Don’t hurt him.”
They nod and Chan turns his attention to Jisung and Minho.
“Clear the main room and kitchen of any remaining evidence. I don’t want you guys here any
longer than half an hour at most, do what you can and get out. All of you go to my mansion,
alright?”
They nod and Chan turns to Changbin. The other is still crying about San and Wooyoung and
it’s not surprising. Of all of them, Changbin was the one who’d befriended them both, who’d
come to love them. He’d tried to save San last night but he couldn’t even reach him.
“Let’s go,” he tells him gently.
They head out, Changbin rubs at his eyes with his sleeve, his shoulders shaking as he follows
Chan out of the kitchen and towards the car waiting for them. Chan doesn’t know what to say
to make it better, if there’s even anything he can possibly say. He knows the odds as well as
Changbin does. Wooyoung has been deteriorating since day one, San had struggled to keep
him from hurting himself too.
Losing San would definitely be the last straw.
They climb into the back of the car and Changbin tells the driver the address of the hideout.
As the car pulls away from the restaurant, Chan squirms a little in his seat.
What was it Jisung’s mother used to call it? The winds of change, the innate knowledge
humans were blessed with when they knew something was coming? It’s an uncomfortable
feeling in his gut, a dread in his mind and he’d felt it last night too.
They’re silent in the car, both focused on what they have to do as they listen to the gentle
hum of the engine as the car takes them towards the other side of the city.
Finally Changbin speaks, hesitant and quiet.
“San,” he mutters, swallowing once before he continues. “He was…I didn’t always get along
with him but he was…a good guy. He didn’t always make the right choices but he always
meant well.”
Chan shoots him a sympathetic look. “He was lucky to have you in his corner.”
Tears well up in Changbin’s eyes again. He rubs his face with his sleeve and Chan is just
about to reach out and touch his shoulder when something horrible shoots right through his
core, knocking his breath out of his lungs. He gasps, his entire body freezing as though
doused with ice cold water and his eyes widen in alarm.
Changbin frowns. “Chan?”
Chan can’t breathe. He can’t breathe at all, this horrible dread fills his mind, his gut churns
and without thinking, he slams on the window to his driver.
“Turn the car around!” he screams.
Changbin jumps. “Chan? What’s-
“Turn it around!” Chan yells at the startled driver. “Go back! Go back!”
Alarmed, Changbin looks down when Chan’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket. Chan is
frantic, terrified as he pulls his phone out and sees Seungmin’s name on the screen.
He puts him on speakerphone.
“Seungmin,” he gasps as the car slowly turns back around. “What’s-”
“He’s dead,” Seungmin cries on the other end. In the background, Changbin and Chan can
hear the wail of the restaurant alarms, they can hear someone crying in the background and
Seungmin sounds both distraught and shocked.
“Chan, he…he’s gone.”
Chapter End Notes

Honestly tho. I write most of this story in the dead of night and post them in the early
hours of the morning BUT OH my GOD you should fear the chapters that come out in
the light of day!
I predict one more chapter to go. Whatever happens after this I want to put in one
chapter, no matter how long. I know you guys are heading towards a world of hurt and
pain and I know some of you might clock out now for the sake of your mental health
(which is totally fine, do what you need) but for those of you willing to stick around for
the end, may I just say thank you :)
We're almost there guys! Please believe me when I tell you that writing this chapter and
especially the next is going to hurt like a bitch.
I love you and all your comments and tweets and everything keeps me going you have
no idea. We're this close to the end of it and I'm feeling the pressure of it so I really
appreciate everything you guys do :)
See you next time!
Love, Zara
XXXII: Amara usque in finem
Chapter Notes
T/W: Suicide and a lot of screaming
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
Wooyoung wakes from his drug-induced sleep with an awful feeling in his gut and a scream
in his throat.
It’s a feeling of dread, of cold, of dying and he knows as he sits up that something is wrong.
More than that, he knows exactly what is wrong too. He looks around his room, heart
pounding in his ears and as his vision clears it shows him exactly what he doesn’t want to
see.
San isn’t here.
His legs shake as he gets out of bed, the blankets seem to cling to him as if willing him to just
go back. Go back to sleep, close your eyes and never open them again. You already know
something’s wrong, you know he’s gone, you can feel it. Come back to bed and just close your
eyes.
“Lee?” he calls as he opens the door to find the guard standing there as always. He rubs at his
eyes and leans against the doorframe, heavy as his heart refuses to acknowledge what he
already knows is true. “Where’s San?”
Lee blinks at him. It’s not the first time Lee has ever seen Wooyoung in this state. Ever since
San got his hands on drugs, he’s been keeping Wooyoung mellow, keeping him tuned out of
the world. But it does mean that most of the time, Wooyoung ends up wandering around in
striped pyjama pants and a long-sleeve shirt that’s three sizes too big for him.
“Lee,” Wooyoung asks again when the man offers no quick answer. “Where is he?”
“He…umm…” Lee blinks at him. “He said he was going to God’s Menu.”
Wooyoung’s vision wavers gently and he knows it’s because of the drugs. It always takes him
forever to wake up from them and perhaps that’s what’s keeping him from breaking down
right now. That and he can’t believe it, refuses to believe it. He needs to see him, needs to
know what happened to him.
Did something happen at the restaurant?

“We’re going there,” he tells Lee as he ducks his head back inside to get dressed. “Bring
everyone. Armed.”
Jeongin’s nightmares are laced with a contrasting mix of terrified screams and helpless
moans.
In one second, he’s standing in that warehouse surrounded by Wolgang Pa members. He’s
watching Hyunjin shoot Minjun in the back of the head and feeling the energy shift in the
room. It had been incredible, the way Jeongin could feel the attention of the gang members,
every one of them staring at Hyunjin like he was the answer to their prayers.
Then they turn at once to look at their intruder but instead of looking at San, they’re looking
at him. They’re rushing towards him, they’re tearing his limbs apart, they’re grabbing and
pulling at him and Jeongin’s scream rips from his throat as his hand reaches out for Hyunjin
on the stage. Hyunjin who merely stares at him with those dead eyes and lips that form the
word ‘Innie’
Then the scene shifts, Jeongin’s head hits the pillow and he moans. Hyunjin is leaning over
him and he wants to touch him but his arms are restrained in the straitjacket. His body is
overheated, he keeps moving towards Hyunjin, wanting more of him but he’s never able to
get enough of him.
“So impatient, Innie,” Hyunjin teases, his soft lips dragging tender kisses down the side of
Jeongin’s neck. “You’ll have me…all of me…”
Hyunjin’s hands on his bare thighs, his mouth dragging down the material of the straitjacket
and Jeongin’s whimpers reach a fever pitch when he feels Hyunjin’s mouth close around his
aching and neglected cock. He wants to touch, he wants to touch so badly but his arms won’t
move.
“Hyunjin,” he breathes and when he opens his eyes, the room seems to blur.
It’s too hot, everything’s too hot, he feels like he’s running a fever but he can’t open his
mouth to tell Hyunjin that something’s wrong.
He closes his eyes and when he opens it again, he’s standing on the stage. He’s the one with
the gun in his hand, Minjun’s head is right in front of him and the hungry eyes of Wolgang Pa
watch as he pulls the trigger.
But it’s not Minjun that falls dead in front of him. Jeongin watches the body drop like a
weight and when he looks down, it’s Hyunjin’s body he sees. Hyunjin staring up at him with
glassy eyes, a massive hole in his forehead and blood leaking onto the stage, towards his
shoes.
Jeongin wants to scream but no sound will come from his throat. He drops the gun and his
hands rip at his own hair in madness, gut-wrenching madness and he tries to breathe but he
can’t.
“Hyunjin…Hyunjin!”
The scene shifts again and he’s back on the cold, dirty ground of the warehouse, there’s blood
all around him but instead of being torn apart by the gang members of Wolgang Pa, it’s only
Hyunjin leaning over him. Hyunjin covered in his blood. He smiles and lifts up Jeongin’s
heart in his hand, there’s blood dripping from his chin, coating those pretty lips that he’s
kissed so many times.
“Just taking what’s mine,” Hyunjin says as he holds the bleeding heart in front of Jeongin. “It
always belonged to me anyway. Didn’t it, baby?”
Jeongin can’t move, he stares as Hyunjin brings his heart to his lips and takes a large bite out
of it, almost moaning at the taste of it.
Darkness consumes Jeongin and when he opens his eyes again, Hyunjin is lying on a bed in
front of him. He’s wrapped up in a straitjacket and smiling as Jeongin climbs onto the bed
and leans over him. There’s an unfamiliar smile on Hyunjin’s face, almost manic as Jeongin
leans in closer until their faces are inches apart.
“Innie, Innie,” Hyunjin sings. “How do I taste?”
Confusion takes over him for a second before he looks down and realises Hyunjin doesn’t
have a leg anymore. His blood seeps into the mattress and Jeongin’s horror is interrupted by
Felix coming into the room carrying a plate with a beautifully cooked piece of meat in the
centre, complimented by a bit of parsley and mustard sauce.
“Veal?”
Jeongin’s world goes black again and he can’t breathe, he feels like he’s in a vacuum and he
can’t breathe. His hands reach out but he can’t even see them, he feels like he needs to
scream but no sound is coming out. Is someone suffocating him? Is he going to die?
In the black veil of his mind, he hears something. Faint at first but it echoes and as it grows
closer, it starts getting louder and clearer.
“Innie.”
Felix. Felix’s voice. Jeongin clings to it like a lifeline.
“Innie, come back to us.”
Something bright is approaching him, Jeongin holds on for dear life, willing Felix to bring
him back.
“Come back to us, baby, come back. You can’t leave us yet, come back.”
Like a light at the end of a long tunnel, Jeongin is racing towards it and when his world
finally fills with light, the room around him starts to clear. Sound fills his ears, his body starts
to feel again and the first thing he sees is the kitchen.
He’s sitting on the kitchen floor. The cold tiles underneath him chill his legs. There are warm
arms wrapped around his middle and a warm body against his back. Air fills Jeongin’s lungs
as his eyes dart around the room and he feels so cold. His entire body is drenched in a cold
sweat like he’s been through hell and back.
Certainly feels like it.
Seungmin’s figure swims before his eyes, crouching down in front of him with a look of
concern on his face.
“He’s back,” he says, one hand reaching out to touch Jeongin’s head. “He’s running a fever…
I’ll get some water.”
He gets up again and heads off towards the sinks as Felix’s hand reaches up to touch
Jeongin’s forehead. Jeongin feels the other shift from behind him so they can see each other
and Felix’s eyes are wide and full of concern but also relief. Deep, deep relief that Jeongin is
back.
“Oh thank god,” Felix breathes. “You alright?”
Jeongin shivers and Felix rubs his arms to get some heat back into them.
“Take it slow, Innie,” he tells him. “We’re just waiting on Minho and Han to finish clearing
the main room, then we’ll go to the mansion. Everything’s gonna be alright, Innie.”
Jeongin wants to ask about Hyunjin. He wants to ask about what happened at the warehouse
but all he can think about is the blood he’d seen, the sound of San’s screaming. That sound
will stay with him and even as it replays in his mind now, he can feel himself slipping back
and it takes gripping Felix’s hand tight to keep him here.
“Felix,” he whimpers, his breathing picking up as he struggles to stay grounded, stay here
and not in his nightmare of a mind. “I…I can’t…”
“It’s okay, Innie,” Felix tells him. “Just hold on, it’s going to be alright, I promise.”
Seungmin comes back and pushes a glass into Jeongin’s hand. He helps to hold it as Jeongin
brings it to his lips and takes a few sips. The cold water helps a little, keeps him grounded in
the moment and not off in his head.
When the glass is empty again, Felix pulls Jeongin towards him until Jeongin’s head is
resting on his shoulder. Jeongin shifts, snuggling into Felix as the other rubs small circles into
his shoulder with one hand, his other holding Jeongin’s hand tight.
“Lix,” he breathes, shivering as another bout of cold air hits him. “Wh-where’s Hyunjin?”
He misses the way Felix and Seungmin exchange glances, he misses the look on Seungmin’s
face as the other gets up to dispose of the glass. But he feels Felix’s hand rubbing his back
and relaxes into him.
“He’s alright,” Felix lies. “He’s safe.”
Maybe if Jeongin had his eyes open, he might have been able to tell the lie on Felix’s face.
Maybe if he weren’t so weakened by his fight to stay sane and conscious, he would have
been able to hear the lie in Felix’s voice. But he’s neither and for now, he believes him.
In the main room, Jisung pulls away the last photo from the wall and looks around, humming
in satisfaction.
“I think that’s it,” he says, turning to look at Minho on the other side of the room.
“Everywhere else is clear. I’ll just put this stuff in Chan’s office and let him deal with the
rest.”
Minho hums, he stands at his podium and looks around the bare restaurant. They’d spent the
last few years here, steadily operating despite the horrors that went on downstairs. It had
almost felt…normal. To be stripped of it now felt like having the rug pulled out from
underneath him left him helpless, vulnerable, unsure of what was to come next.
“I think I’m gonna miss this place,” he admits quietly.
Jisung grins, he pockets the photos and walks over to the podium to pull Minho into a small,
reassuring kiss.
“We’ll make something new,” he promises, nuzzling his nose against Minho’s. He then pats
his pockets and pulls back. “I’ll just go put this stuff in Chan’s room and then we should
probably head out.”
Minho nods. “I’ll do one more check.”
Jisung kisses him one more time before heading into the kitchen. He walks past Jeongin,
Felix and Seungmin as he heads out to the back door and across the path to Chan’s office.
The day is warm, sunny, not a cloud in the sky as he unlocks the door to the office and drops
the photos off on the desk.
There’s still something wrong, a clench in his stomach that refuses to go away but as Jisung
closes the door to the office again, he takes a deep breath and heads back to the kitchen.
It’ll be alright. The elections will pass, things will calm down and they’ll be alright. The
stomach clenching is only natural after everything that’s happened.
He walks back into the kitchen where he finds Seungmin, Felix and Jeongin exactly where
they were when he left them.
“Hey guys,” he says as he walks to the main room. “Let’s get going. Chan said we shouldn’t
linger.”
They nod and Jisung heads in through the double doors to the main room where the sight that
greets him freezes him in place.
Wooyoung is standing in the middle of the main room with about twelve armed men behind
him, all of them pointing their guns right at Jisung. In Wooyoung’s arm is Minho, in his other
hand is a gun pressed to the side of Minho’s head.
“Where’s San?” Wooyoung asks and it’s his tone that gives him away. Jisung knows right in
that moment that he’s not talking to someone sane, he’s not even talking to someone sober.
Wooyoung’s hair is a mess, he’s dressed in a grey shirt with a bulletproof vest overtop and
black pants. The gun in his hand isn’t the only one he’s carrying and the only thing Jisung can
think is that he’d come here with one specific goal in mind: if he can’t find San, he’ll burn
the restaurant down.
“Woo-”
“Where’s San?!” Wooyoung screams.
Jisung can hear Seungmin, Jeongin and Felix in the kitchen. All three are smart enough not to
show their faces and he imagines they’ll be doing exactly what they ought to be doing in this
situation - crouching behind the counters and staying out of sight.
Minho’s eyes are wide, his hands raised slightly as Wooyoung keeps one arm around his
neck. He’s barely breathing and Jisung’s heart is thundering so hard he can hear it in his ears.
“He’s not here,” he tells Wooyoung and he’s struggling to keep his tone steady and calm.
“He’s not here.”
“Where is he?” Wooyoung demands. Minho whimpers as he presses the barrel more against
his head and Jisung almost loses his breath at the sight.
“He’s not here,” he says again, almost stammering over his words as his eyes are fixed
helplessly on the gun pressed to Minho’s head. “He’s not here, Wooyoung. He went to
Wolgang Pa-”
“That’s bullshit,” Wooyoung counters angrily. “He said he was coming here-”
“He never came here!” Jisung argues, his eyes desperate as he holds his hand out. “Look, just
put Minho down. I can talk to you about what happened to him just-”
“What happened?!” Wooyoung laughs sardonically. “You think I don’t already know what
happened? You think I didn’t feel it?!”
“Please, please put him down,” Jisung pleads. “Please, I’ll do anything-”
“San’s dead!” Wooyoung snaps angrily, his eyes filling with tears as his hand holding the gun
wobbles slightly. “I can feel it, he’s dead!”
Jisung’s entire body is flushed in a cold sweat, he’s shaking hard and his eyes meet Minho’s,
the other looks back at him terrified.
“Tell me,” Wooyoung says, his eyes focussed on Jisung. “Tell me I’m wrong. I know I’m
not.”
All Jisung can see is the gun pressed to Minho’s head. All he can think about is how terrified
he is for Minho. How terrified he is that if he tells Wooyoung that San is actually dead, there
will be no turning back. Wooyoung will kill Minho and that will be it.
“He’s not-”
“You’re lying!” Wooyoung screams. “Where is he?! What did you do to him?!”
“We didn’t do anything to him!” Jisung shrieks back, panicked and scared. “Please! Just
don’t hurt him, let him go! I can tell you where he is, just let him go!”
Wooyoung is breathing hard, his hand is shaking but the one holding Minho still is firm and
solid. For a breathless few seconds, Jisung and Wooyoung do nothing more than stare at each
other, both desperate for different reasons.
“He must be yours,” Wooyoung finally says, his voice a little calmer as he nods to Minho.
“Isn’t he?”
Jisung can’t do anything other than nod, his eyes watching Minho in complete, paralysing
fear.
“San was mine,” Wooyoung tells him, his voice shaking like his hand pressed to Minho’s
head. “My sanity, my pain, my life…you know when someone you love that much is dead.
You can feel it. It’s like…getting doused in cold water, like you can’t breathe.”
Jisung is barely listening, all he can see is Minho. He’s not even breathing anymore.
“It was you people who approached San with that offer,” Wooyoung continues. “An offer to
help him kill my father and my siblings. To pull me up to the head of Wolgang Pa. It was you
people who ruined my life like this, filled his head with an alternative that would kill us
both.”
“Wooyoung,” Jisung breathes. “We didn’t kill San. Wolgang Pa did. San went to Wolgang Pa
last night and they…we didn’t do it. They did.”
A tear slips down Wooyoung’s face, he shakes his head slowly.
“I was never born to be the head of the pa,” he says, his voice quieter than before. “I could
never take a life. I wanted to save lives. But ever since I was placed here, all I’ve caused is
death after death after death…even San’s death is on my hands too.”
Minho’s eyes meet Jisung’s again and for a moment, everything calms. Air seeps back into
Jisung’s lungs, his nerves calm, his legs stop shaking and he watches the pupils in Minho’s
eyes dilate.
“I wish he’d never met you,” Wooyoung whispers.
When it happens, Jisung doesn’t realise it right away. The bang of the gun echoes in the room
and all Jisung can see is Minho falling as if in slow motion. His entire body jolts, slips from
Wooyoung’s hold and falls to the floor. He’s dead before his head hits the floor and Jisung
doesn’t have the chance to scream before he realises all the guns are pointed at him.
“Shoot the place up!” Wooyoung screams.
Jisung jumps out of the way, vaulting behind Minho’s podium just in time to avoid the hail of
bullets that rain down on the walls, on the furniture, shattering the windows and doors. One
shot triggers the alarms and the restaurant is suddenly filled with the dreadful high pitched
wails that pierce their ears.
In the kitchen, Felix curls up on the floor, his arms tight around Jeongin as his screams are
lost in the chaotic sound of the restaurant being torn to pieces.
On the other end of the kitchen, Seungmin is curled up on the floor with both hands over his
head as they all wait out the storm.
When it finally ends, dust fills the air, the metallic scent of gunpowder lingers and the distant
sound of cars driving away at fast speed pulls Jisung out of his hiding place to see Wooyoung
and his men are gone.
The restaurant is a mess, glass and wood shards everywhere, toppled tables and chairs, holes
in the walls, the sirens are still going and all Jisung can see is Minho. Minho who is lying in
the middle of the main room.
He can’t get up. Jisung can barely breathe as he crawls out and rushes forward to Minho’s
body. He’s already gasping when he reaches Minho’s shoulder and turns him onto his back
and there’s so much blood. Too much blood. Tears fill Jisung’s eyes, blinding him as his head
struggles to come to terms with what he’s seeing.
It had been a clean, clear shot. There’s more than just blood leaking onto the floor but Jisung
can’t see it, he refuses to see it. He holds Minho’s shoulders and gently shakes him and he
can’t hear anything else.
He can’t hear Seungmin, Jeongin and Felix coming out of the kitchen to see what’s happened,
he can’t hear the sound of Felix crying or the slightly choking sound Seungmin makes.
“Open your eyes,” Jisung breathes, his hand brushing over Minho’s face as he ignores the
blood. “Please, open your eyes. Minho, open them, please.”
Minho doesn’t. He doesn’t respond, not even when Jisung’s grip tightens and he starts
shaking harder.
“Minho!” he yells desperately.
“Han,” Seungmin says as he approaches him. “Han don’t-”
“Wake up! You can’t leave me now, wake up!”
“Han!”
Jisung looks up to see Seungmin crouched down next to him. Seungmin’s face is distraught,
tears already rolling down his cheeks as he reaches a hand out to place over Jisung’s.
“Stop shaking him,” he tells Jisung quietly. “He’s gone.”
A sob, Jisung and Seungmin turn to see Felix clinging to Jeongin, his face hidden in
Jeongin’s shoulder as he cries. Jeongin is just staring at Minho’s body with wide eyes, as if he
doesn’t believe what’s happening.
Seungmin turns back to look at Minho and he doesn’t have the chance to say or do anything
more when Jisung suddenly gets onto his feet and rushes for the door.
“Han!” Felix cries out. “Han, don’t!”
Seungmin runs after him. Felix pulls away from Jeongin and takes his hand, the both of them
watching as Seungmin disappears out the door seconds after Jisung. They hear the muffled
noise of the two arguing outside, mostly Seungmin yelling Jisung’s name. Then the roar of a
motorbike speeding out of the parking lot.
When Seungmin comes back, he comes back alone.
“Where’d he go?” Felix asks, he thinks he knows the answer but he doesn’t want to be right
about this. He stumbles towards Seungmin and grabs his arms. “Seungmin, where’d he go?”
Seungmin shakes his head and Jeongin shivers. He’s struggling to stay here, struggling to
understand what’s happening. Even though he can see it, he can see the bullet holes in the
walls, the broken windows, Minho’s body, something in his mind refuses to acknowledge it.
As if he knows somehow that acknowledging his surroundings, recognising the blood,

realising how bad it really is, will make him worse.
He stumbles backwards and Felix is right in front of him again, big tearful eyes filled with
worry. Felix reaches up and cups Jeongin’s face in his warm hands. Jeongin clings to him.
“Innie?” he breathes. “Breathe, look at me, okay? Just me.”

Jeongin’s hands are shaking where he’s holding onto Felix’s sides, fingers clenching over
Felix’s pink cotton shirt, willing it to help him stay grounded.
They look up when the distant sound of the back door echoes through the broken restaurant
and the double doors to the kitchen open to reveal a breathless and scared Chan with
Changbin close behind him.
Their eyes land on Minho’s body and for a moment, no one is breathing.
“Oh god,” Chan whispers as he moves forward and falls to his knees next to Minho.
Changbin walks slowly forwards, standing behind Chan as the other looks over Minho’s
body.
“Wooyoung came,” Seungmin tells them quietly. “He came armed and he came with men and
somehow he knew San was dead but he wouldn’t listen when Han said it wasn’t us who did
it…”
“He was listening,” Felix corrects him, a sob stuck in his throat as he watches the way Chan
looks over Minho. “He just didn’t care.”
It’s hopeless, he knows there’s no possible chance but Chan’s shaking fingers feel the inside
of Minho’s wrist for a pulse he knows isn’t there. His breath comes out slow, shaky and he’s
barely keeping himself together when he looks up.
“Han?”
“He ran after Wooyoung,” Seungmin tells them. “I couldn’t stop him.”
Changbin pales. “We have to go after him….now, Chan! He’s gonna get himself killed!”
Chan’s breath is coming out in slow, shaking pants. He’s barely able to function when all he
can see in front of him is Minho’s dead body. It’s a sight he’d never imagined he would see in
his lifetime and yet it’s here and he has to pull himself away from it. He has to go after
Jisung, he has to…
“Go to my mansion,” he says, looking up at Felix, Jeongin and Seungmin. “Now. All three of
you.”
“But what about him?” Seungmin asks with a gesture at Minho. “We can’t just leave him-”
“I’m not taking the chance that someone else will come and finish the job,” Chan says,
cutting in firmly as he has to force himself up onto his feet. “Go now. Don’t argue with me.”
He really doesn’t have the energy or willpower needed to run out of the restaurant and leave
Minho there but somehow he manages it. Chan has to leave every emotion behind him as he
runs after Changbin towards the car, all he can think about is Jisung. It’s all he’s letting
himself think about.
The door swings shut behind them and it’s not until Seungmin hears the screech of car tyres
that he slowly kneels down next to Minho’s body and reaches over to take his hand. Felix
hides Jeongin’s face in his shoulder as he watches the way Seungmin’s usually stoic
expression begins to crumble.
“Go to his mansion,” he says, his watery eyes lifting to look up at Felix and Jeongin.
“But-”
“I’m not leaving him here alone,” Seungmin states as his hand tightens over Minho’s. “Take
Innie and go.”
Jeongin shivers and Felix knows he’s just barely hanging on. He’s clinging to Felix, trying
his best not to look around at how messed up the restaurant is. Everything here is designed
specifically to trigger him and they’re probably not going to be much safer at the mansion in
all honesty but they have nowhere else to go.
Nowhere that would be safe enough.
“I’ll…” Felix sniffs and holds Jeongin closer. “I’ll stay with you-”
“No. Go,” Seungmin commands. “I’ll be alright here. I’m just…”
Felix almost crumbles at the sight. He’s never seen Seungmin break down before, not even
close. In all the time he’s known him, Seungmin has displayed the least amount of emotions,
the least amount of reactions. He always used to say he was dead inside and Felix knew it
wasn’t true, he knew Seungmin and Minho had history but he’s never seen him like this.
So…broken.
“I’ll be alright, Lix,” Seungmin promises, his voice shaking a little. “Just go.”
Felix turns his head to look over Jeongin. The other has his eyes closed, his fingers are
clinging to Felix’s shirt and maybe he’ll black out, maybe he’ll go completely crazy but at
least if they get to the mansion, Wolgang Pa can’t reach them.
“Come on, Innie,” he whispers, his hand taking Jeongin’s as he leads him out of the broken
restaurant.
Just before he leaves, he looks back at Seungmin’s frame sitting next to Minho. From the
angle near the entrance, Minho almost looks like he’s sleeping, long eyelashes splayed over
high cheekbones, his hair hides the wound at his temple and his lips are just slightly parted.
Seungmin’s sob is the saddest thing Felix has ever heard and it takes all his willpower to
leave the restaurant as Seungmin rests his head on Minho’s chest and cries.
-
Kicking the door of Wooyoung’s apartment open, Chan leads the way in. Gun in hand, he
looks around the apartment and the first thing he notices are the bodies littered on the floor.
His guards. Jisung had followed him back here and by the looks of it, he’d killed them all.
There’s an eerie silence in the apartment, the lights are blown out and the only light comes
from the afternoon glow shining through the windows.
The gun in Chan’s hand feels heavy but he grips it tight, acutely aware of Changbin’s
presence behind him as he slowly leads the way into the living space.
A long time ago, for safety reasons, Jisung, Changbin and Chan had all signed onto an app
that only they could use. They put their phones onto the app to make it easier to track each
other and Jisung’s tracker had led them right here. Chan checks his phone again but sure
enough, the red blinking dot is right where they are.
Swallowing hard, he leads the way further into the apartment. There are more bodies in the
kitchen. A lot of them are lying near the counter, they’d probably been crouched behind
them, Hiding but that hadn’t stopped Jisung from killing them.
“Han?!” Changbin calls out, his voice laced with obvious fear as Chan lifts his hand to
silence him.
Shouting in the middle of an apartment they’re not exactly sure is safe is never the best idea.
They hear something crash in a room down the hall, followed by a cough. Chan holds his
hand out to keep Changbin behind him as he leads the way towards the noise.
There’s blood on the carpet, blood dotting the walls. The bedroom door is slightly ajar and
when Chan pushes it gently open, the first thing he sees is Wooyoung’s body slumped on the
floor near his bed. There’s an open wound on his chest, his bulletproof vest long gone as
blood stains his shirt. But there’s another wound at his head, a point-blank shot through the
temple as if he’d done it himself.
A cough drags Chan and Changbin’s attention to the other body near the door and fear grips
them both at the sight of Jisung, their Jisung, covered in blood, riddled with wounds and
slumped on the floor with his back against the wall.
“Han,” Changbin breathes as both drop their guns and rush to his side.
Chan’s hands are shaking, he frantically looks over Jisung’s body and there’s just too much
blood. So much he can’t tell where Jisung’s been wounded but it’s obvious he’s been shot
multiple times. It’s just that none of those shots were enough to stop him from murdering
everyone in his path before he got to Wooyoung.
Changbin already has his phone in his hand and he’s calling the ambulance as Chan lifts
Jisung’s shirt to look over the damage.
“Don’t…bother…hyung…” Jisung breathes, voice ragged and soft as he coughs up more
blood.
Chan is scared. Every breath seems to be a struggle for Jisung, his eyes are already somewhat
far away and Chan can’t even register the sound of Changbin’s scared voice begging for
someone to send an ambulance as fast as possible.
Chan doesn’t even have the capacity to think it through. To remember that the police and
medical units in Busan are swamped because of the attacks. To remember that they can’t
come for them right away, they don’t have enough people thanks to the gang attacks
rampaging the city.
“Han,” he breathes as he looks over Jisung’s face helplessly and tries to put pressure on one
of the wounds. “Hold on, okay? I can make it stop bleeding, I can fix this, just…”
There are tears rushing down his face already. Changbin is screaming into his phone, telling
them to get here immediately and somewhere on the other end of the line, the operator is
trying to tell him that they just don’t have anyone who can do it right now. All their
ambulances are out, their staff are out trying to save lives. They don’t have enough staff.
“Bring a car! Bring a fucking truck, just get here!” Changbin screams. “Just get someone here
now!”
“Chan,” Jisung whispers, wincing as though to lift his voice any more than that is painful.
“Do you think he’s waiting for me?”
Chan sobs, he doesn’t mean to but it comes out with the torrent of tears. He shakes his head
profusely and presses hard on one of the wounds.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Han,” he pleads. “Don’t you dare…”
Changbin hurls his phone at the wall with a scream. The sound of it clattering echoes slightly
as Changbin turns back to Jisung and tries adding pressure to his wounds too.
“Stay with us, Han,” he pleads. “They’re coming. They’re on their way just…just don’t…”
Jisung’s eyes flutter and for a breathless moment, both Chan and Changbin stare. They listen
to his breathing stutter, the rattle in his lungs and they know he’s dying. He was dying before
they got there. Of all the shots in his body, one of them had hit something crucial and even
the fastest ambulance wouldn’t have saved him.
Still, both Chan and Changbin’s hands are soaked with his blood as they both try to keep him
here with sheer strength alone.
“Han,” Changbin sobs. Chan has never heard his voice sound that heartbroken before. “Han
don’t…”
“Please,” he finds himself whispering as his shaking hands gripping Jisung’s hand in his own.
“Don’t go…”
Then Jisung looks at something over Chan’s shoulder. His lips curl into the smallest smile,
his hand in Chan’s grip squeezes once before relaxing. Chan and Changbin watch the light in
Jisung’s eyes fade until he’s staring into nothing, the smile fades and he’s gone.
Chan’s mansion feels strange when it’s just the two of them. The silent servants bow as
Jeongin and Felix wander inside, hand in hand. They pause in the grand foyer and look
around, both wondering what to do while they wait.
Felix squeezes Jeongin’s hand and turns to the nearest maid.
“Take him upstairs to the bedroom on the far left,” he tells her. “I’ll be there soon.”
Jeongin’s eyes are wide at the thought of being escorted alone but Felix is quick to rub his
arm and lean into him.
“I’ll be with you soon,” he promises. “I just have to get something.”
Jeongin is already shaking but Felix can see a familiar look in his eye, he’s trying to be brave
when he lets go of Felix’s hand and follows the maid to the staircase. Felix watches them
leave and when he’s sure Jeongin is out of sight, he takes a left towards Chan’s offices.
Just beyond the main sitting room, there are several rooms Felix knows he’s not allowed to
go into. Chan had once given him a grand tour and there are several rooms with sensitive
information - mainly pertaining to his father. Somewhere in there, there are probably
documents detailing that Hyunjin and Felix are his brothers, things that Chan had tried to
keep from both Felix and Hyunjin.
Felix heads down a long, winding hallway until he reaches the office right at the end. It’s the
only room he’s allowed to go into. He pushes the door open and goes to the desk where, sure
enough, Chan had left one spare sedative in a bag.
Tears gently roll down his eyes as he fixes a needle to the tube and fastens the cap overtop.
He gently places the sedative in his pocket and rubs at his eyes with his sleeves.
“Just in case,” Chan had told him some days earlier.
Felix had lingered in the doorway, watching as Chan made a point of showing him the
sedative and placing it in plain sight on his desk.
“Just in case, Lix. There’s another in the restaurant in my office.”
“But-”
“Lix, promise me you will use it,” Chan had said as he approached Felix and placed his
hands on his shoulders. “I don’t know what’s going to happen in the coming days, maybe
he’ll never need it but I don’t want you caught out. If he starts to lose it, he will hurt you.”
Felix had clung to Chan’s hands, he shook his own head and tried to meet Chan’s serious
eyes with his own.
“Innie would never…”
Chan had a determined look on his face, even when he gently squeezed Felix’s shoulders.
“Innie would,” he had warned. “So use it.”
Felix leaves the office, the small sedative burning in his pocket. He closes the door behind
him and makes his way down the hall and up the grand staircase. Each step seems harder than
before and he’s not sure what’s making him cry more: the fact that he knows Jeongin is
steadily losing his grip on reality, or the fact that Minho is dead.
Jeongin is sitting on the bed when Felix enters the room. He dismisses the maid and when
they’re alone, he closes the door behind himself and goes to climb onto the bed with Jeongin.
The thick, plush mattress sinks gently beneath their weight. Jeongin’s hands find Felix’s
arms, clinging immediately as Felix gently guides them onto the bed, shifting further until
they’re both sitting in the middle. Felix grabs the extra blanket folded at the end of the bed
and wraps it around them both, cocooning them together as they sit facing each other. Face to
face, chest to chest.
Jeongin looks terrified, he’s shivering even as Felix fixes the blanket around them both and
pulls him close until they’re curled together as close as he can get them.
“Lix,” Jeongin breathes, his arms and legs curling around Felix as he rests his head on Felix’s
shoulder. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop-”
“Focus on me,” Felix tells him, his arms squeezing Jeongin close. “Concentrate on this, how
warm you feel, the sounds you hear, what you can see. Focus on where you are now, think
about it so much that you can’t think about anything else.”
Jeongin shivers and Felix rubs his back gently.
“Tell me what you feel,” he prompts as he pulls his face back far enough to look into
Jeongin’s eyes. “Let’s start there.”
He’d been taught about this when he was a child. His mother called it focussing on the
present, on the now and it had helped stave off the worst of panic attacks. Felix himself had
been prone to several, especially when things seemed to get too overwhelming. Several
nights he could remember sitting in his mother’s lap, a blanket around them both as she
gently soothed all the fears and worries plaguing him.
“Think about now,” she’d told him, her hand gently stroking his hair out of his face. “Tell me
what you feel, tell me what you see. Don’t think about anything else, just think about right
now.”
Jeongin is struggling. He can see it in his eyes. The other is trying his hardest to stay here, to
stay in the present and out of his mind but the horrors of what he’d seen today and yesterday
still haunt him. Maybe he’s always been heading this way, maybe seeing such a gruesome
death right before his eyes had merely pushed his mind over the edge but Felix was
determined to give it one more try.
“I feel…the blanket,” Jeongin whispers as Felix holds it around them both.
“Good. Keep going.”
“I can feel you…you’re warm. The mattress…I can feel…it’s cold outside.”
“What can you hear?”
“Your breathing…mine…there’s crickets outside…”
Felix glances at the window. The sky is growing dark as night settles in. He turns back to
Jeongin and the other is shivering despite the blanket and their combined body heat. He can
see the telltale shift in Jeongin’s eyes and moves in closer to rub his arms, as if willing some
heat back into his bloodstream.
“Good, that’s good, Innie,” he whispers. “Tell me what you see.”
Jeongin’s fingers cling to Felix, he tries to focus on him but when he looks up, he doesn’t see
him. He sees Hyunjin sitting in front of him, a knowing smile on his face. He sees blood
trickling down Hyunjin’s forehead and when he closes his eyes, he sees San lying in pieces in
front of him. Minho bleeding out on the floor…
“Innie,” Felix pleads. “Innie, open your eyes, look at me. Just me, okay? We can do this.”
Jeongin opens his eyes but Felix isn’t there. He’s not safe in a bedroom, he’s on the floor of
the warehouse. Jeongin’s senses are invaded with the metallic and dusty scent of the
warehouse, the feel of blood between his fingers and Hyunjin is lying on the floor with his
head on Jeongin’s lap.
Blood seeps from the corner of Hyunjin’s mouth as he looks up at Jeongin with the smallest
of smiles on his face. He reaches a bloody hand up to touch Jeongin’s face so gently.
Jeongin wants to touch him, he wants to wipe that blood off his face but when he looks down
all he sees is the straitjacket holding him down.
Is it a dream or is it reality? Was he dreaming Felix or is he dreaming Hyunjin? Jeongin can’t

tell anymore because this feels too real, all of it does. The warmth of Felix and the bedroom,
the cold of the warehouse and Hyunjin’s hand.
“Innie,” Hyunjin says, his voice soft and gentle as fingers leave blood traces on Jeongin’s
jawline. “Why are you crying, baby?”
Jeongin shivers, he tilts his face towards Hyunjin’s hand and shakes his head.
“I’m going crazy,” he whimpers. “I told you, I’m going crazy. I can’t tell what’s real
anymore.”
He looks down and Hyunjin isn’t there, instead a dog is. The first dog he’d ever killed with
his own hands. Jeongin whimpers and closes his eyes, when he opens them again, Hyunjin is
back but this time instead of lying down, he’s sitting right in front of him.
He’s wearing black silk with gold threads. The Gods Menu uniform, his hair is tied back and
he looks exactly the way he did when they first met. Beautiful and untouchable. Jeongin still
can’t move as Hyunjin leans in and presses the softest kiss to his lips.
“Let go, Innie,” he breathes against Jeongin’s lips.
Jeongin shivers. “But…but I-”
“This is the real you,” Hyunjin tells him, his dark eyes gazing deep into Jeongin’s, almost
piercing into his core. “You’re almost there. Just one more push, Innie. Don’t be scared.”
Jeongin wants to hold onto him. He wants to cling to him and live in this reality whether it’s
real or not. Some time ago he had felt something inside of him die. The last of his innocence
and in its place is something else, something dark and growing larger by the second.
Something that threatens to consume him.
Hyunjin is the only one telling him not to fight it.
“Snap,” Hyunjin whispers against his lips. “Let go, Innie.”
Jeongin’s eyes flutter shut and when he opens them again, Felix is in front of him. They’re
not in the warehouse, they’re back in the bedroom, Felix’s eyes are wide and he’s holding
onto Jeongin so tightly. He looks like he’s been calling his name for a while now.
“Innie?”
Blood. San’s screams, Minho’s body, all the bodies hanging from the freezer. They’re all
there, all of Gods Menu hanging upside down on the hooks, their skin pale white and
glistening with ice. Suddenly Jeongin’s back in that freezer again, he’s tied to the chair and
whimpering as all the members of God’s Menu, including Hyunjin, are dangling over his
head.
He tries to fight against the rope, a scream catching in his throat when Felix’s body opens his
eyes to reveal a milky film over his eyes. He reaches up to unhook himself from the ceiling
and Jeongin cries when Felix’s body falls onto the cold tile floor.
Felix seems inhuman, almost creature like as he picks himself up from the floor and starts
crawling with frozen limbs towards Jeongin. Jeongin fights against the ropes, pulls and pulls
until he can feel his wrists bleeding. Felix grabs his ankle and Jeongin screams as Felix
crawls up his body until they’re face to face, Felix’s dead eyes, his cold white skin and an
inhuman sort of growling sound coming from him.
Finally Jeongin pulls his arms free and pushes him off.
Back in the bedroom, Felix falls off the bed in fright. He looks up in time to see Jeongin,
crazed and panicked, pulling at the blankets around him. He can tell by the look in Jeongin’s
eyes that he’s not there anymore, he doesn’t see Felix anymore, he sees something dangerous.
Something that got too close to him like all the rest.
“Innie!” he shrieks, jumping out of the way as Jeongin vaults off the bed after him.
Felix tries to scramble but Jeongin is faster. Jeongin grabs Felix’s hair and wrenches him
back onto the floor, Felix barely has the time to scream before he realises Jeongin is leaning
over him with both hands clenched around Felix’s neck.
Felix can’t breathe, Jeongin’s thumbs are pressing right into his windpipe and the look in his
eyes is murderous. He can’t see Felix anymore, he can’t seem to hear him either. Felix
chokes, his legs flailing underneath Jeongin’s frame.
It’s only through sheer willpower that Felix is able to reach down with shaking hands, uncap
the needle and bring it up. Jeongin’s eyes shift but he doesn’t move fast enough before Felix
is able to slam the needle into the side of his neck and push down on the plunger.
Jeongin slumps on top of him, his hands loosen and Felix gasps for air as it rushes back into
his lungs.
He drops the needle and listens to it roll under the bed, for a moment all he can hear is the
sound of his ragged breathing. Jeongin’s weight on his chest is heavy and Felix’s mind races
as he gently settles his arm around the other and comes to grips with the fact that he’d lost.
He’d lost and Jeongin had tried to kill him. The one thing he was certain Jeongin wouldn’t
do.
Minho is dead. Jeongin is gone. Hyunjin is with Wolgang Pa. Chan is dying and Jisung…
As soon as Felix has enough air in his lungs he screams. He screams until he cries and curls
up like a ball on the floor with Jeongin in his arms. The servants don’t come in so they don’t
witness the sight of Felix hiding in Jeongin’s chest, crying his heart out and clinging to his
unconscious friend.
No one but the moon witnesses the way Felix’s heart breaks.
Gods’ Menu is pitch black. With the electricity gone and night cloaking the sky, Seungmin
barely recognises the cold as it whistles through the holes in the walls.
He only looks up when the doors open and Chan walks in alone.
Chan’s steps seem to drag, his cheeks are marked with dirt and tear tracks. He’d left
Changbin with Jisung to wait for the paramedics because he knew someone had to deal with
the others. Someone had to pick up the pieces and right now, that someone was not going to
be Changbin.
His body seems heavy, exhausted as he approaches Seungmin and gently kneels down next to
Minho’s body.
Seungmin’s face gives him away, he’s too scared to ask and Chan is too tired, too devastated
to say it aloud. He simply shakes his head and Seungmin understands.
Grief too powerful to cry through takes over them both. Seungmin finds it hard to breathe as
he looks over Minho’s face for the millionth time tonight.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes, fresh tears trailing down his face as he holds Minho’s hand. “I know
I should have gone to the mansion like you said but…but I couldn’t…”
“I know,” Chan tells him.
Seungmin sobs, he leans forward as Chan reaches over to rub his shoulder.
“Go to the mansion,” Chan says, his voice croaky and sore from the screaming he’d done
earlier. “I need you to look after Felix and Innie. Especially Felix. I’ll stay with Minho.”
Seungmin doesn’t fight this time. Minho’s safe with Chan and Felix does need him.
Especially if Jeongin…
His legs ache as he pulls himself up and forces himself to let Minho’s hand go. Minho’s skin
is cold to the touch and it makes Seungmin shiver, the fact that this is too real. He can’t even
convince himself it’s not happening.
He doesn’t say another word. There’s nothing more to say, not to Minho and not to Chan. He
simply turns on his heel and leaves the broken and silent restaurant.
Sitting on the dirty floor, Chan listens to Seungmin go. He listens to the back door close
behind him and when he knows Seungmin is gone, he reaches his hand forwards and gently
touches Minho’s wrist.
He’s cold. It makes Chan flinch as he stares at Minho’s face.
Ever since Chan realised he was dying, he’d imagined how it would happen over and over.
He imagined all the scenarios, all the things he could control and all the things he couldn’t.
He could have never imagined, never let himself imagine that Minho and Jisung would die
before him.
There’s someone on the way. Chan had called for help and although the police were
swamped, they’d promised to send someone to be with him until more help arrived. From
what he knows, Wolgang Pa is still terrorising Busan, still stretching their medical and police
resources thin.
The sad thing is, Chan knows that even if the ambulance had rushed for Jisung, they wouldn’t
have been able to save him. No one could have. They’d gotten there too late and part of Chan
can’t help but wonder if that was how Jisung wanted it, if Jisung would have wanted them to
save him knowing that Minho was dead.
Somewhere in the kitchen, a broken tap is dripping. Wind whistles through the holes in the
walls, echoing through the empty room of God’s Menu. Chan’s thumb rubs Minho’s hand
until he feels something on his finger and looks down to see a silver band over Minho’s ring
finger. His heart jolts at the realisation of what it meant. Jisung hadn’t told them.
“Congratulations,” he breathes, his eyes moving to look at Minho’s face. He squeezes

Minho’s hand and sniffs. “Didn’t I tell you I’d send you anywhere you wanted to marry
him?”
Somewhere in Chan’s mind, he is acutely aware that this is the last time he will be with
Minho alone. The last time he’ll see his face with the knowledge that no one is watching him.
All this time Chan has been so guarded, even in front of Minho himself. He’d kept that wall
up, kept it strong. Every emotion he felt, every time he felt anything towards Minho, he
fought to keep it from showing in his eyes because he knew someone would see him and
understand what Minho is to him.
But no one is watching him now. The look in his eyes isn’t guarded, it’s an open wound. Of
all the pain he’d ever experienced in his life, seeing Minho dead in front of him capped it all.
He’s never known such physical pain, strangling his voice, making it hard to breathe, filling
his eyes with tears and breaking him from the inside.
With a sniff, he leans forward until his forehead is pressed to Minho’s still chest. His choking
sobs echo in the room as he lets himself break. His hands shake as they grip Minho’s, holding
his hand, his wrist and trying to ignore how cold he is. Chan’s cries are loud, unrestrained and
heartbroken. At one point he screams into Minho’s chest and grips his side, as if to keep
himself from going completely insane.
God, he would if he could. If he could die here right now, he would. He’s never felt this much
pain before, not even from his own illness, it feels like it’s tearing him from the inside out.
It feels like hours before he finally feels something faint against his cheek. Something under
Minho’s shirt. Chan lifts his head, his fingers shivering as he reaches up to feel a small silver
chain around Minho’s neck. The necklace is tucked under his shirt and Chan’s tears stream
endlessly as he gently pulls the end free to reveal a ring. His ring. The one his mother had
given Minho.
A sound outside pricks his ears. Chan turns his head and sees a small light just outside one of
the windows. He turns back to Minho and gently puts the necklace back, hiding it under his
shirt as he hears footsteps approach the restaurant. Chan kisses Minho’s forehead and turns to
get up just in time to see a familiar silhouette enter the restaurant.
Both of them pause, both taking each other in. It hasn’t been that long since they’d last seen
each other and perhaps it’s some stroke of irony that the police had decided to send Kim
Hongjoong to the restaurant because they didn’t have any qualified police to send.
Hongjoong is dressed like a policeman, the uniform fits him perfectly and yet somehow he
still looks too young to be one.
Chan rubs at his face and manages a small, watery smile.
“Hey.”
Hongjoong’s eyes glance down to look at Minho’s body, he looks around the destroyed
restaurant and somehow, despite Chan never having told him any details, he seems to
understand. In five broad strides, he’s right in front of Chan and holding him. Chan shivers
and buries his face in Hongjoong’s shoulder, for once letting the other comfort him.
“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong whispers into Chan’s neck.
“I know.”
“No one else could come. That’s why I…I mean…”
“I know.”
“They’ll come when they have more people…”
“I know.”
“Hyung?”
Chan lifts his head to see Hongjoong watching him, wide eyes shaded with worry as his gaze
flicks from Chan down to Minho, then back to Chan.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.
Chan can’t talk, his throat feels like it’s closing up. All he can do is nod and let Hongjoong
hide him in his embrace.
It’s hours before the police can send people for Jisung and Minho. Once they’re both taken
away, Chan and Changbin return to the mansion. A heavy silence takes over them all as they
reconvene in the main sitting room.
Chan had dismissed the staff for the night - for their own safety because sitting in the middle
of the living room was Jeongin tied to a chair. Jeongin had woken up about an hour before
Chan and Changbin returned, the look in his eyes manic and absent as he struggles against
the ropes and stares at the four of them as though he can’t see them. Like he’s staring right
through them all.
Felix grips Changbin’s hand and leans into his side, watching as Jeongin pulls against the
ropes, his head tossed back as he starts to giggle at nothing. Seungmin is curled up in the
corner, his eyes watching Jeongin but he’s faraway, he’s not really registering anything and
sitting closest to Jeongin, Chan observes the way Jeongin’s eyes seem to be empty.
It’s exactly what he feared would happen. He’d seen Jeongin’s mind breaking down piece by
piece but what happened last night and today had wrenched it out completely. They didn’t
know what was going on in Jeongin’s mind and they had no hope of finding out either.
“What do we do?” Felix asks, his voice still a little croaky because Jeongin had tried to
strangle him.
Chan watches Jeongin and shakes his head slowly. They can’t leave him like this and there’s
no way to know when Jeongin will come back - if he’ll come back or if they’ve lost him
forever. With the elections drawing too close and Hyunjin tearing Busan down, Jeongin isn’t
safe with any of them either.
Especially not Hyunjin. If there is any hope of bringing Jeongin back, it won’t be with him.
Hyunjin had murdered Minjun right in front of everyone, in front of Jeongin and he is
undoubtedly the head of Wolgang Pa now. If not that, he’s well on his way to being one.
Chan doesn’t know how Hyunjin ever thought Jeongin would be alright in that environment.
Turbulent and unpredictable, that environment would kill Jeongin.
But then what’s the alternative?
Jeongin beams at him and his smile is chilling. His eyes wide and manic, his smile spreads
from ear to ear and he struggles against the ropes binding him to the chair.
“If he goes to Hyunjin, he might end up killing him,” Chan says quietly.
Changbin huffs. “Good.”
“Bin-”
“No, fucking good,” Changbin argues. “If Hyunjin hadn’t done that shit, San would still be
alive and if San was still alive, this wouldn’t have happened. Han and Minho would still be
here!”
“San died because he ran right into the middle of Wolgang Pa,” Chan points out with a frown.
“Wolgang Pa who were still hurting over the fact that Wooyoung was their leader and he’d
killed their executives, Wooyoung was falling apart.”
“This is Hyunjin’s fault,” Changbin insists, he sits up straight on the couch and points to
Chan. “What the fuck was he thinking?! Riling up Wolgang Pa like that, how did he think
that was going to end? How did he think Innie would ever be safe there?! Hyunjin and his
antics with Wolgang Pa is the reason the police and ambulances couldn’t get to Han fast
enough, Hyunjin is the reason Han’s dead!”
“Han was dying before we even got there!” Chan yells, thoroughly annoyed now as he gets
up to face Changbin. “Even the fastest fucking ambulance couldn’t have saved him!”
“If Hyunjin hadn’t been pulling that fucking stunt at the warehouse, San would still be alive!”
Changbin screams as he gets up onto his feet to face Chan head on. “Wooyoung would still
be alive! Minho would still be alive!”
“This is not all Hyunjin’s fault!”
“What IS it with you and Hyunjin?!” Changbin shrieks in frustration. “You’ve always
defended him! Ever since you brought that psychotic little shit in, you’ve defended every
single thing he’s ever done wrong, you wouldn’t cut ties with him even when Han and I both
told you to!”
Panicked, Felix jumps up and tries to put himself between Chan and Changbin. He grabs
Changbin’s arms and tries pushing him away from Chan.
“Just calm down,” he pleads. “Walk away. You’re upset, we’re all upset…”
“Of course I’m fucking upset!” Changbin cries. “My fucking best friend is dead!”
“It wasn’t Hyunjin who did it,” Chan hisses. “It wasn’t Hyunjin who killed Minho and Han, it
wasn’t Hyunjin who drove Wooyoung insane-”
“No, but it was Hyunjin who escalated things to this point!” Changbin screams even as Felix
clings to his chest. “He might as well have shot Minho in the head himself!”
Before Chan or Felix can retaliate, an almighty crash draws their attention to the broken vase
that had just been hurled at the wall. In unison, their eyes turn to the one who threw it and
Seungmin doesn’t look at any of them. He simply puts his hand down and sniffs as he stares
down at his lap.
Silence takes over all of them for a few moments, their minds struggling to deal with what’s
going on. In the suffocating air, Jeongin’s giggles draw their attention to the fact that he’s still
there, still pulling on the ropes until his skin burns, until it bleeds. He rocks back and forth in
the chair, his eyes staring ahead at nothing and it’s wholly unnerving.
Chan stares at him, his mind desperately trying to think of anywhere that could be safe and
against all odds, only one place is safe enough. Only one place can handle him when he’s like
this and only one place can hide his identity, hide him from Hyunjin.
Especially if they have a strong enough reason.

“Hyunjin can’t touch him, he can’t find him if he’s hidden by a plea bargain,” Chan breathes,
his heart dropping as the full realisation hits him all at once. He turns to Felix and Changbin,
both of whom are watching him with silent dread in their eyes.
“There’s only one place that can hide him,” Chan tells them. “One place that can take him in
and hide him from Hyunjin.”
Felix pales, his eyes go wide and he shakes his head adamantly.
“No.”
“Lix, it’s the only way. Hyunjin will always find him otherwise-”
“No!” Felix snaps. “You can’t do this to him!”
“There is nothing else, we can’t keep him and if we try, Hyunjin will find him!” Chan argues.
“They might even be able to bring him back-”
“Not if you give them a reason not to!” Felix cries. “That’s what you want to do, isn’t it? Tell
them the truth? Give them a reason to keep him under lock and key under a false name?”
“If we keep him and if Hyunjin finds him, we’ll lose him forever,” Chan says, his voice firm
as he faces Felix. “There’s still a chance. There is still a chance that he can be brought back
but they won’t hide him unless they have a reason, THAT is a reason.”
Seungmin looks up, he sees the lost look on Felix’s face and turns his eyes to look at Jeongin
instead.
“How do you know he’s not already gone?” he asks. “How do you know there’s still
something of him left to bring back? He looks pretty insane to me.”
Felix glares at him. “Shut up, Seungmin!”
“Look at him!” Seungmin snaps, his hand gesturing to the way Jeongin stares ahead, a vacant
smile on his lips. “He’s gone!”
“I said shut up!”
“Stop, stop, stop!” Chan begs, his hands out between Seungmin and Felix to stop the two
going at each others throats.
They fall silent, both glaring at each other and Chan feels the onset of another migraine as he
turns to Changbin.
“What do you think?”
Changbin winces, he looks over Jeongin and holds Felix’s hand to keep him close. Chan isn’t
exactly wrong about this. With elections and everything heating up like this, they’re not the
safest place for Jeongin but neither is Hyunjin. If there’s a single chance to save him, to bring
him back, it has to be with people who know how to handle him. Or at least in a facility that
can keep him safe and there’s only one place that will hide his information if they’re given a
reason.
If they know that Jeongin is capable of murder, if they know what he’s done…they’ll hide his
identity because even as a psychotic murderer, he is allowed anonymity - especially when
there runs the risk of people who would want him dead if they knew it was him. It’s not just
for his safety, it’s for theirs too.
Hyunjin won’t be able to find him. No one will.
“He’ll be safer,” Changbin finally says, his hand squeezing Felix’s gently. “But we’ll be
condemning him to a life inside. He’ll have those charges following him the rest of his life so
even if he does come back, even if that place somehow manages to save him, he’ll never be
free.”
Felix whimpers at the very thought.
“But,” Changbin adds after a moment. “He will be safe. Hyunjin won’t find him.”
Another giggle draws their attention to Jeongin.
For a breathless moment they can’t do anything more than stare. Jeongin is a shadow of who
he used to be and they know if Hyunjin finds him, neither of them will be safe from each
other. They’ll destroy each other at this point.
“Is there another way?” Chan asks, his eyes helplessly watching Jeongin. “Someone come up
with another way.”
But the others are silent, even Felix. Chan racks his brain but nothing comes up. The centre
that houses his mother will not take Jeongin because he’s too dangerous. He can’t just hand
Jeongin to an asylum without telling them why, they’ll release him within days. They need a
reason to hide him, a reason to keep him.
With the elections and the heating tension in Busan, Jeongin isn’t safe with any of them
either. They’re not safe with him.
There’s no other way.
Felix sobs as he brings his phone up and flicks through his storage until he lands on an old
video. There Jeongin is, terrified but still willing. Behind him, Hyunjin is holding the knife in
Jeongin’s hand, guiding him as they both kill the man strapped to the table.
It feels like lightyears ago.
One glance at this video and Jeongin will be locked away forever.
He sends the video to Chan and turns around to hide his face in Changbin’s chest. Changbin
rubs his back gently, holding him as he breaks down. Chan closes his eyes, his hand rising up
to pinch the bridge of his nose and Seungmin sits down on the floor again. His head hangs as
he exhales shakily, too much has happened in one day.
“I’ll have him admitted tomorrow,” Chan decides quietly.
Jeongin stares right through him and Chan feels something inside him rip at the sight.
“Goodbye, Innie.”
Two days until the election.
The sun is hidden behind dark clouds, casting a chill over the air. The skies are grey and
threatening to rain as a group of people slowly walk into the cemetery.
Chan exhales and holds his tears in. The last few days had been a nightmare of holding his
father at bay whilst sorting the last of the election worries and arranging a funeral for both
Jisung and Minho.
They’d all decided that Chan could be the only person who knew where Jeongin had gone. It
was safer that way. Letting him go hadn’t been easy for any of them and least of all Chan
who had witnessed the way Jeongin had started freaking out the second the doctors in white
coats took him away.
Possibly triggered some old memories, he’d certainly tried attacking but he was no match for
a syringe full of sedative.
Arranging funerals for Minho and Jisung had been especially painful. When Jisung’s parents
flew into the country, Chan and Changbin had been prepared for a fight. After all, Jisung had
told them he was in a relationship with Minho and he simply hadn’t heard back from them. If
it had been Chan or Changbin, their parents would have fought them to the bitter end.
But when Chan went to the airport to pick up Jisung’s parents, both who had flown in from
different countries, one of the first things Jisung’s mother wanted to know about was Minho.
“I had always wondered,” she had told Chan and Changbin as they’d led her out of the airport
and into the car waiting outside. “But I knew better than to pry. Jisung could be so secretive
but…if someone was there to make him happy…”
His father sits in the back, face crumpled in mourning and distress. He sniffs, hiding a sob
behind his sleeve and his wife leans over to rub his shoulder - a rare sign of solidarity
between two married people who spend most of their time ignoring each other.
“I’m just glad he had someone,” his father confesses, he turns his tearful eyes to Chan.
“Maybe we should have told him so earlier.”
Chan and Changbin exchange glances. As the car rolls away from the airport and towards
Busan, Jisung’s mother leans in.
“What’s happening with that boy?” she asks quietly. “Is he…are you arranging his funeral as
well?”
Chan nods and through her tears, she smiles.
“Please let us help,” she tells him. “My son should be buried with the one he loves.”
Thanks to Jisung’s parents, Chan’s workload had lessened but he’d still had a say in a few
things. He’d agreed to Jisung’s ashes being interred in the family plot but only on the
condition that Minho is with him - which Jisung’s parents had readily agreed to.
They’d arranged the service, they’d sorted the rites and in the end, the service had been
exactly what Jisung and Minho could have hoped for.
Still, as the procession moves into the graveyard, Chan feels a chill rush down his spine.
Beside him, Felix is crying into his sleeve, his free hand in Changbin’s as he follows along.
Seungmin is at his other side, he’s not crying but his eyes are dark and he hasn’t spoken in
days. Somewhere behind him, a select few students from the Seoul Police Academy,
including Hongjoong, had come to show their respect.
They follow. A group dressed in black and their final resting place is beautiful. Right
underneath a weeping willow tree. Minho and Jisung are buried together and as their ashes
are lowered into the plot, Chan closes his eyes.
He can feel himself shaking and it’s not because of the cold. His head feels like it’s splitting,
his symptoms have flared in the last few days. Maybe it’s because of stress, grief or maybe
it’s simply because he’s running out of time but Chan can feel it coming. He doesn’t have
much time left.
Felix curls into Changbin’s hold, sniffling as the final rites are performed. The last few days
had been rough on everyone and Felix was no exception. He’d barely been able to forgive
himself after Jeongin was admitted into an asylum and he’d spent days crying into
Changbin’s chest, blaming himself for not being able to keep Jeongin here.
When at last it’s over, the funeral party begins to disperse and not long after Chan bids
goodbye to Jisung’s parents for the last time, Seungmin comes up to his side and leans in to
whisper in his ear.
“Hyunjin’s here.”
Chan freezes, so do Changbin and Felix. They look around the cemetery and finally spot him
standing right at the edge of the cemetery, atop one of the hills, flanked by six Wolgang
guards all dressed in black. Hyunjin is a sleek vision dressed in a long black trenchcoat, white
shirt and black leather pants. His long black locks are tied back and his cold, icy eyes are
watching Chan.
Chan grits his teeth, he leans over to grab Hongjoong’s arm and drags him along as the five
of them leave the burial plot and head towards the hill.
The guards behind Hyunjin are armed and alert, all of them eyeing Chan warily as Chan
approaches and stands in front of Hyunjin. The gap between them may as well have been a
chasm.
Chan notices a small vine crawling up the side of Hyunjin’s neck. The beginnings of a tattoo,
still fresh and pink peeking from behind his coat. Another marks his right hand and from the
way the guards behind him stand, they’re loyal to him and him alone. Hyunjin’s entire aura
seems to have changed almost overnight and it’s like looking at a stranger.
Chan breaks the silence first. “Why are you here?”
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “I knew them,” he points out in a calm, cool tone. “I can say
farewell too.”
“You can fucking rot in hell,” Changbin snaps.
Hyunjin doesn’t react, he doesn’t even spare Changbin a glance. His eyes are honed on Chan
alone as he tilts his head.
“Where’s Innie?”
“He’s not here.”
“I can see that,” Hyunjin says. “So where is he?”
Chan steels himself. He should have known Hyunjin would turn up at some point looking for
Jeongin, this confrontation was never going to be easy and he’s never been more grateful for
Hongjoong’s presence behind him. Without him, this could get ugly extremely fast.
“He’s gone,” he tells Hyunjin. “Somewhere you will never find him.”
Hyunjin’s eyes darken, his entire demeanour changes from indifferent to dangerous in a
matter of seconds and Hongjoong draws his gun the second the guards behind Hyunjin do the
same. Suddenly Seungmin and Changbin are pointing their guns at Hyunjin, Felix is hiding
behind Changbin, Chan keeps his hands in his pockets and stares Hyunjin down.
“What did you do to him?” Hyunjin hisses. “Where is he?!”
Chan just shakes his head. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t aim a weapon and neither does
Hyunjin.
“I’m the only person who knows where he is,” he tells Hyunjin calmly. “You hurt anyone, the
knowledge will die with me.”
Hyunjin’s left eye twitches with annoyance. “An ultimatum?”
“Well spotted.”
“We’re beyond ultimatums, Bang Chan.”
Chan just shakes his head. He stares until he sees something small shift in Hyunjin’s eyes.
Recognition. The only person here who holds the cards is Chan.
There’s a vein in Hyunjin’s neck, it strains against his skin when he’s angry. Chan watches it
move beneath the ink of his tattoo when he finally turns to his guards and flicks his hand.
They drop their guns, Hongjoong, Changbin and Seungmin do the same.
Hyunjin then turns to Chan and leans in. “What do you want?”
Chan just smiles. “You think I’ll give you Innie if you promise to be a good boy?”
“I think you know better than to let him rot wherever you left him, Chan,” Hyunjin replies,
his voice lowering a little so only Chan can hear him. “You and I both know you don’t have
much time left. You look like shit, by the way.”
Chan just smiles, it doesn’t reach his eyes. It hasn’t for days. Maybe something in him died
early when Jisung and Minho did. Maybe he’s already tired. Too tired to bother with any
genuine emotion.
“Elections are in two days,” Chan reminds Hyunjin quietly. “And Busan is falling to pieces
thanks to you and your new pa. If you want Innie to live beyond this year, you’re going to
have to stop the attacks and riots. Pull your gang back in and force them to behave. Do that
and you might just get Innie back.”
“You’re full of shit,” Hyunjin challenges. “You wouldn’t let Innie die. You love him too
much.”
“Don’t assume I won’t leave him to die because of personal attachment to him,” Chan
counters smoothly. “I will let him die if you don’t do what I’m telling you to do now. You
want to be the head of Wolgang Pa? Take control of it by stopping the riots, pull their heads
in. If not, you’ll be burying Innie by the end of the year - and I will make sure you’re the one
who finds him.”
It is a bluff. Hyunjin’s right, Chan does love Jeongin too much to let him die. But maybe it’s
because Hyunjin can’t read him as well as he thought he could, or maybe it’s because Chan is
dead inside and he’s not as readable as he once used to be. Whatever the case, Hyunjin
eventually huffs and leans back.
“How do I know he’s even still alive?” he asks. “How do I know you’ll keep your word?”
“You don’t,” Chan tells him. “But you can’t shoot me either because I’m the only one who
knows where he is. So you’re either gonna have to trust me for once in your life…or shoot
me now and risk that I was telling the truth.”
Hyunjin doesn’t move. He stares and the air between them is intense. For a moment, no one
knows what Hyunjin’s next move will be, he’s too unpredictable, too angry, too detached.
Until Felix peeks his head out from behind Changbin.
“Hyunjin,” he says, breaking the tension.
Unlike Changbin, Hyunjin actually looks at Felix this time. His pretty eyes flick from Chan
to Felix and against his will, they seem to soften just a little. Just enough for Chan to realise
Hyunjin still feels something for them.
With an annoyed huff, Hyunjin then turns back to Chan and leans in.
“If you’re lying, I will find him,” he promises quietly. “You can’t keep him from me forever,
Chan.”
Chan sighs tiredly.
“See, that’s just it,” he says, his tone sad and honest. “I can.”
Hyunjin turns on his heel, he sweeps past his guards and they follow him out. Down the hill
and away from the cemetery. Chan stays where he is and watches their figures climb into the
cars waiting for them, Hyunjin’s figure disappears in the back of a sleek, black sedan.
Chan watches the cars until they disappear down the road. That’s when it hits him, that is
probably the last time he’ll ever see Hyunjin.
That night, the mansion Minjun had once occupied is alive with music and rowdy gang
members once again. Lights fill each room, music pounds at the walls and endless alcohol
fills the tables with enough food to feed an army.
A reward. That’s what Hyunjin-sajangnim called it. A reward for bringing Busan to their
knees, for the rise of Wolgang Pa with an entire city as their stomping ground.
Hyunjin had called in all the members he knew were responsible for the riots Minjun actually
started. The high ranking members, the long-standing proud members of Wolgang Pa who
were rolling in so much money they were choking on it. He’d called in the human traffickers,
the businessmen and the lawyers who kept Wolgang Pa and their businesses afloat on the
cries of underage children and babies.
He brought them all in with the promise of alcohol, money, food and prostitutes and like flies
on shit, they’d all come.
Hyunjin sits in a car parked just down the road. He leans forward and watches as the house
fills with the highest ranking, worst members of Wolgang Pa.
Picking up his phone, he picks the first contact in his list and waits for the nervous answer.
“Sir?”
“I need a headcount,” Hyunjin orders coldly. “I want you to make sure every single member I
invited is in that building and not a single one is absent.”
“O-of course, sir…but why aren’t you here too?”
“Just do it,” Hyunjin barks. “Call me back when you’ve checked everyone.”
He hangs up and leans back in his seat with a long exhale. Contrary to the cold day, the night
is warm. The clouds have long since disappeared, revealing a clear sky full of stars. Hyunjin
taps his fingers against his lap and as he always does when he’s alone and quiet, his mind
goes back to Jeongin.
He wonders where he is, what he’s doing right now. He knows Chan wouldn’t kill the poor
boy but where would he put him? Hyunjin can’t even begin to imagine.
Maybe he sent him away to another country. Maybe Jeongin is somewhere foreign, maybe
everyone around him speaks French and he’s on the verge of another mental breakdown.
Or maybe - and this is actually more likely - Chan sent him away to another asylum. Hyunjin
frowns at the thought but he can see how Chan would come to the conclusion that that would
be for the best. Especially if Jeongin is losing his mind.
It also means that finding him will be next to impossible. They’d have hidden him under
another name, maybe his clinic isn’t even in South Korea. Hyunjin has no possible way of
finding out.
His chest aches. It’s been doing that ever since he lost contact with Jeongin. Ever since he
lost the ability to hold that little baby bread in his arms, he’s been feeling nothing but pain
and anxiety. Knots in his stomach, twitches in his fingers, he recognises it all because he’s
been through it before but this time is different.
This time Jeongin isn’t just somewhere else and trying to ignore him, Jeongin is sick and
Hyunjin knows something’s wrong. He knows he’s somewhere he can’t reach and the thought
makes him desperately ill.
He takes a deep breath and pushes himself out of the car. Just as he sticks a cigarette between
his lips, his phone buzzes and he reaches into his pocket to pull it out.
“Talk to me.”
“They’re all here.”
Hyunjin takes the cigarette out of his mouth and looks up at the building. “All of them? Did
you double check?”
“I triple checked…sir.”
“Well,” Hyunjin smiles. “Good. Lock all the doors and come out here.”
“...sir?”
“Just do it,” Hyunjin snaps. “Don’t let anyone see you either. Get your ass out here.”
He hangs up and puts the cigarette back into it’s packet. He tucks it into his pocket and
watches as a small figure leaves the house and locks it on his way out. He makes his way
carefully down the path, out the front gate and looks up to see Hyunjin leaning on the car
parked down the road.
Hyunjin watches his newest assistant, a thin, weedy little nerd by the name of Daniel, coming
towards him with a somewhat nervous look in his eyes.
Good. He should be nervous.
“Sir,” Daniel says as he approaches Hyunjin. “Why aren’t you inside? The bosses are
expecting you.”
Hyunjin makes a point of shrugging and leaning back against the car.
“Such a nice night,” he comments casually. “Don’t you think?”
Daniel looks confused. It’s almost amusing.
“Do me a favour,” Hyunjin says, his hand tapping the roof of the car. “Go to the other side of
this car and crouch down, will you?”
More confusion.
“...sir?”
“Go on,” Hyunjin waves him off. “Crouch behind this car.”
Daniel stares but he hurries off around the car where he crouches down on the other side. As
he does, Hyunjin pulls his phone out and taps into a system he’d had installed earlier today.
One tap and the timer on his phone starts ticking down.
“Five Mississippi,” Hyunjin mutters to himself as he paces around the car. “Four
Mississippi….three Mississippi…”
He crouches down next to Daniel and grabs his head to keep him down.
“Two Mississippi…one.”
An almighty boom shakes the ground. Hyunjin keeps his head down and listens to Daniel
screaming as the house explodes, shattering the windows, destroying the walls, bursting into
flames that reach high into the sky. Some debris flies past the car, bumping the roof,
skittering past Hyunjin and Daniel and when it’s finally over, Hyunjin lets go of Daniel’s
head and stands to see the building in flames.
Daniel looks up, he’s shaking but when Hyunjin clicks his fingers, he follows Hyunjin
towards the burning building.
There is absolutely no chance anyone inside could have survived that.
Strolling towards the fence, Hyunjin pulls the cigarette from his pocket again and sticks it
between his lips. He pushes the fence open and walks towards the flames. Daniel watches,
wide eyed and horrified as Hyunjin leans forward until the tip of his cigarette is lit with the
same flames that just killed a good 40% of his gang.
He’s insane.
Hyunjin leans back, he takes a deep drag and exhales the smoke with a relieved sigh. He then
walks back to Daniel and takes him back out through the fence, back towards the car.
“Send out a message,” he orders Daniel. “Anyone who wants to challenge me over what just
happened, feel free to come at me. More than enough space in the ground and I’ll be more
than happy to fuck up any one who gets in my way.”
Daniel blinks, he watches Hyunjin pull his keys out of his pocket and toss them back to him.
“You’re driving,” he tells him as he climbs into the back. “Let’s go, we’ve got work to do.”
Busan Airport is busy as usual. The announcements echo as crowds of people coming in and
out of the international departures and arrivals mill about with big bags of luggage, all of
them trying to find their way.
One day before the election finds Chan standing right before the international departures, his
heart aching as Felix turns to him with wide, tearful eyes.
“Chan,” he pleads quietly. “Don’t do this, please. I can stay, I can help.”
Behind him, Changbin looks like he’s about to fall to pieces. It was Changbin that Chan had
to talk to about this. One long, lengthy discussion had been what it took to make Changbin
realise that Chan was right: this was the best move. Busan wasn’t safe, nowhere was going to
be safe once the elections were over.
This is the only way to keep Felix safe.
In the end, Chan had made that call. Send Felix away. Changbin too.
“I’m not taking that risk,” Chan reminds Felix as he reaches up to swipe a rogue tear leaking
down Felix’s face. “You know it’s dangerous here. I’ve already lost Minho, Han, Innie, I’m
not losing you too.”
Felix shivers, his fingers cling to Chan and when he leans forward, Chan wraps his arms
around him. He feels Felix’s warm tears wetting his shirt and over Felix’s head, he looks at
Changbin. The other just looks lost, torn and Chan isn’t surprised. Changbin has followed
him for years and with Jisung gone, all they have left is each other.
The intercom calls for passengers on Flight 35C to board. Chan feels Felix’s body stiffen in
his hold and he kisses the top of his head.
“Time to go,” he whispers.
Felix sobs and clings to Chan. “No…”
“Do this for me, Lix,” Chan says, voice soft as he strokes Felix’s hair back gently. “This was
always the plan, I was always going to get you out of here before the election…if things had
been different, you’d have been going with everyone else but that’s not how things panned
out.”
Felix sniffles, he pulls back and in his big, wide eyes, Chan can see that Felix knows one
fundamental truth neither of them are saying out loud: Chan isn’t going to live long enough
to see Felix come back to Korea. It’s a truth only they know because Changbin still doesn’t
know Chan is sick - and with everything going on, there’s no point in telling him either.
Doing so would only cause further pain and it wouldn’t change a thing. Chan would still
make him get on that plane.
Felix reluctantly lets go of Chan so Changbin can lean in. Chan hugs Changbin close to
himself, feeling the other shiver in his hold.
“Look after him,” he whispers to Changbin. “No matter what happens, no matter what you
see, don’t come back too soon. Keep him safe no matter what.”
Changbin nods and Chan holds him tighter.
This is perhaps the one thing left in his plan he knows will work out just fine. So long as
Changbin and Felix are looking out for each other, they’ll be fine. It’s a comforting thought
because everything else had gone so horribly wrong but this hadn’t. He still had them.
Changbin, his first brother, his first friend and Felix, his little brother whom he’d sworn to
protect until the end.
The intercom calls again and Chan slowly pulls back from Changbin. As he does, his head
begins to pound. Technicolour blurs his sight, everything starts to blur and glow green, red
and blue. He takes a deep breath and turns to look at Felix.
“Go,” he tells them quietly. “I’ll see you.”
Maybe he looks like shit, maybe he’s actually fooling them into believing he’s somehow
going to pull through this. Chan can’t tell, he can’t see them anymore. Just blurs and the
sounds of Felix’s sobs as the two reluctantly pull away and head towards the departure gate.
Chan’s vision focuses and unfocuses, his stomach churns and all the while he stays where he
is. Watching until he’s sure they’re both gone and safe.
Then, with shaking hands and legs, he turns and slowly makes his way out of the airport
building.
Everything is so hot, so painful, his breathing is ragged as he finally finds his car and climbs
into the back. He pulls his phone out and groans in pain when the light of the screen hits his
eyes, it’s too bright. Everything hurts.
“Sir?” his driver calls from the front. “Are you alright?”
“Home,” Chan tells him, his hand blindly finding the button to pull the screen up. “Take me
home.”
The car begins to roll and as it does, Chan forces his eyes to focus on the screen. He pulls his
contacts up and picks the first name in the list before dropping his phone next to him and
putting it on speaker. He groans and lets his head flop back onto the headrest. Everything
hurts.
“Hyung?” comes a voice from the speaker.
“They’re gone,” Chan tells him, his breathing pained and hitched with every pang of pain
that shoots through his skull. “It’s almost time.”
“Hyung…your breathing.”
“I know.”
“...are you…?”
Chan sucks in a breath through his teeth when a sharp pang zips through his brain. His hands
start to shake, his fingertips are cold and his entire body shivers. He doesn’t have any
medication left, not the kind that would take the pain away. It’s far too late for that.
“I told you: You know I’m dying, Seungmin,” he reminds the other on the phone. “Where are
you?”
“In my apartment,” Seungmin answers. “Surrounded by one dog and four cats.”
Despite the pain, Chan manages to chuckle. “Poor you.”
“The cats are scaring the dog.”
Fitting, considering they were Minho’s cats and the dog had once belonged to Jeongin but
now belongs to Seungmin. Personality wise, if Seungmin were a dog and Minho were a cat,
they’d be no different.
“Tonight at midnight, drop it all,” Chan tells him. “Everything we’ve ever collected over the
years, upload all of it to every public server. Then hide, you’ll find enough money in your
account to disappear comfortably for a year or so - just to be safe.”
“And with that, your father will be destroyed,” Seungmin answers. “But so will you.”
Chan laughs again, he winces at the pain that shoots through him and shivers. “I’m hardly in
a position to care anymore, Seungmin.”
“I know but still…” Seungmin pauses for a moment, a question in his tone before he finally
continues. “You never told me why you were doing this. Why it had to be like this. Why
didn’t you bury him earlier than this? Why did you help him climb to the ranks of president
only to knock him down now? I don’t understand.”
“Because,” Chan breathes, his eyes fluttering shut as he wills the lights outside to stop
hurting him. “My father is an ambitious monster with his fingers in every single pie in the
political world. If I’d tried attacking him any earlier, he could have passed it off. He could
have wriggled away with a slap on the wrist at most and several loopholes in the law would
have defended him. If I never helped him become president, he’d have found another way
and that other way would have probably been more painful for everyone. At least this way, I
had control. This way, I could make sure he’d rise and fall exactly as I planned. And the
reason why I couldn’t attack until now was simple: he’s at his most vulnerable right now.
This is when anything we throw at him will stick and burn him alive. By the time we’re done
with him, he’ll never be able to set foot in the political world ever again.”
“Just as you planned.”
Chan winces. Not exactly as he’d planned. He’d planned to keep everyone safe. He’d planned
to send Jisung away with Minho. To send Hyunjin safely away with Jeongin. He’d planned to
keep them all safe, he’d had tickets and hideouts ready for months…but even the best laid
plans…
His breath hitches again, the pain seems to be shooting all through his body now.
“Chan?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you. For everything.”

Chan’s lips curl into a small smile, he keeps his eyes closed and turns his head towards his
phone.
“Time to start all over again, Seungmin,” he reminds him softly. “Live a new life and be
happy. Do it because I can’t.”
He hears a small sniff on the other end and for a moment, he thinks he imagined it. Seungmin
only cried when Minho died, he’s been dead inside ever since his mother died. But then
Seungmin sniffs again and Chan smiles when he realises that Seungmin is crying. He’s crying
for him.
Perhaps there is hope for him after all.
“Bye Seungmin,” he breathes.
Another sniff. “Bye Chan.”
The call cuts out and Chan slips in and out of consciousness the entire way home.
It’s night when his car finally pulls up to his apartment block. Chan’s legs seem to shake, his
body weak as he climbs out of the car and gingerly, slowly makes his way to the elevator.
Everything’s a blur. Visions shift in and out as Chan makes his way up to his apartment. All
the way down the hallway, he has to hold onto the wall to keep himself up.
His card opens the door, Chan stumbles in and makes his way down the quiet hallway. He
doesn’t turn on the lights, he doesn’t need to. He makes his way through the dark apartment
to his bedroom where at last, he slowly sits down with a relieved exhale.
It’ll be alright. He knows it will be. With Seungmin on the move, the last stage of his plan is
complete.
Checkmate.
It’ll bury him but it’ll bury his father too. All his conversations, all his commands, all his
plans. The truth about God’s Menu and the disappearances, the proof that Chan’s father had
ordered it all, it will all come to light.
When it’s over, his father won’t have a friend in the world to hide behind. No one would risk
protecting him with that much evidence staring them straight in the face. With him gone, the
only viable candidate left will be the new president - as he should be, because Chan has been
funneling anonymous funds into Kwang’s campaign for months now.
Kwang is the kind of person who would never have accepted the donation straight from
Chan, he’d have wanted to run an honest campaign and Chan respected that.
But there’s no way Kwang would have been able to pull it off without money so Chan had
been forced to donate anonymously.
He’ll be a good president.
Chan shrugs his jacket off and lets it fall to the floor with a heavy thunk. He reaches out for
his bedside table and pulls the drawer open. There he sees his collection. Five full bottles of
sleeping pills, he’d refrained from taking a single one for fear he wouldn’t stop.
There’s nothing more he has to do. It’s a strange thing to feel. The absence of anything, the
absence of responsibility. There’s nothing more, no one else he has to protect, nothing more
he has to ensure. He’s done everything he possibly can.
So he gets up, fills a glass of water and slowly comes back to bed. There he changes into
sweatpants and a shirt before climbing into bed and slowly uncapping the bottles. His hands
shake, his vision blurs but it doesn’t hurt. Not anymore. He swallows and swallows until the
glass is empty and most of the pills are gone.
When at last he lies down in bed, colours dance before his eyes and the pain is gone. He rests
his head on the pillow and watches the colours dancing over his walls, over the ceiling. He
thinks about Felix, about Hyunjin, about Jeongin, Changbin, Seungmin, Minho and Jisung.
He thinks about the day they’d decided to create God’s Menu and the day he’d realised that
this was the only way he could protect them all.
He doesn’t know if he’s asleep or not when a vision, blurry at first, appears in his room and
approaches his bed. Chan recognises familiar features as the figure comes closer and leans in
to reveal a warm smile, feline eyes and the most beautiful face he’d ever fallen in love with.
“Hey,” Minho whispers, his hand reaching out to touch Chan’s chest as he leans in close.
“You kept me waiting.”
Chan’s lips pull into a gentle smile. “Sorry I took so long.”
Minho leans in and Chan swears he can feel the touch of Minho’s warm lips against his. He
can feel the other just as solid as if he were really there.
Then Minho takes Chan’s hand and pulls away from his lips.
“Ready to go?”
The room fades around them until all Chan can see is Minho, beautiful Minho pulling at his
hand to help him up onto his feet. The world around them seems to fade to black and all
that’s left is them.
Chan feels nothing. No pain, no headaches, no nausea. Just warmth as he kisses Minho again
and squeezes his hand.
He walks away with Minho until nothing exists anymore.

On the bed, Chan’s chest rises one more time and falls with a relieved exhale. The room is
silent and still.
And so is he.
One Year Later
Ahopsan Forest is as peaceful now as it had been when they were children. The tall bamboo
trees sway gently in the summer breeze, tourists mill around, their eyes wide in wonder at the
lush green sights all around them.
Sitting on a bench, Seungmin watches a group of schoolchildren walk by and he can’t help
but smile at the sight of their little yellow hats and flags.
Some things just don’t change.
Busan is peaceful again. On the day of election, Bang Chan’s body had been discovered by
his wife and at the same time, Seungmin’s information dump had sent the political and upper
class world into a panicked frenzy. Seungmin had done exactly as he was asked, he’d dumped
all the information everywhere and he’d gone into hiding.
The bomb had done it’s job. With no time to cover his ass and nothing to hide behind, Prime
Minister Bang had no defence in front of him. The allegations, the proof shoved right in his
face had caused an international outrage and for months on end, all the world could talk about
was what had been dubbed as ‘The Cannibal Restaurant’ and the hundreds of lives lost to
Prime Minister Bang’s endless greed and near-demonic behaviour.
Everything came to light. The way he ordered his son to dispose of the bodies, the orgies that
took place in God’s Menu (and that one in particular destroyed several upper class marriages
once wives and husbands realised their significant others were participating in these
disgusting rituals). The gangs involvements, the human trafficking, Chan hid almost nothing
and his father burnt for it.
He had no standing, no credibility and no way to be President. When the last ally left him
defenceless, the police finally swooped in and took care of the rest.
It left Kwang Yoseob to rise as the elected President and just as Chan predicted, he did well.
He had a strange calming influence and when the scandal of Prime Minister Bang and his son
died out, President Kwang brought calm back to South Korea.
As for Chan, the scandal ruined him too but since he was dead, there was nothing to be done.
As per his plans and wishes, his will privately divided his remaining family fortune in
different directions. He left Kaeun a rich and comfortable widow (apparently he’d also left
her a note telling her to be a better human and do something good since her life was now
officially her own)
He’d sent money to Australia, to Felix and Changbin and he’d sent more money to a clinic in
Hawaii for his mother. He’d set Seungmin up for life and the rest of his will detailed one
more thing. One more thing that only Seungmin could handle.
The breeze is warm, Seungmin closes his eyes to feel it brush gently over his face. He has to
go home later and feed the cats and the dog. Over the year, they’d all grown on him. He had a
small zoo in his apartment and he was considering getting some fish, maybe some turtles.
It was always nice to come home to them. Felt infinitely less lonely.
He doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t look up as he hears the crunch of pebbles under a heavy
boot drawing closer to him. A familiar light musk scent hits his nose as someone sits next to
him.
“Hello, Seungie.”
Seungmin smiles, he opens his eyes and turns his head to see Hwang Hyunjin sitting right
next to him. Somehow Hyunjin looks a little taller, perhaps more wary and tired too but still
so unfairly beautiful. His hair is still jet black and long, half tied back with a jagged crown of
white clips atop his head.
Seungmin spots more tattoos of vines and roses with thorns licking up and down his neck,
dipping down into his low cut shirt to reveal another tattoo at his chest, the silhouette of a fox
showing just slightly beneath the fabric. Hyunjin has a scar that starts just above his left
eyebrow and cuts down vertically, through his eye and down to his cheek. An old scar, left
from his days of fighting to gain control over Wolgang Pa.
From what Seungmin heard, it hadn’t been easy but through sheer force of will (and a lot of
psychotic breaks) Hyunjin had somehow managed it.
Hyunjin pulls a cigarette pack from his pocket. There’s a casual way in which he leans over
slightly to stick one between his lips and light the end. An attendant approaches him, as if to
try and tell him not to smoke there but when he looks up and glares, the poor girl hurries
away just as quickly as she’d come.
Seungmin snorts in amusement. “You’re gonna get us kicked out of here.”
Hyunjin takes a long drag and makes a point of leaning back into the park bench, he crosses
one leg over the other and makes himself comfortable.
“I’d like to see them try.”
Seungmin shakes his head but he feels a lot calmer now than he had been before. One year
had been long enough to hide, to reflect on his life and take a new course. There’s something
about this forest, about being here with Hyunjin that somehow feels right. Familiar. It is the
place where they met after all.
“How’ve you been?”

Hyunjin winces, he takes another drag of his cigarette and makes a point of blowing the
smoke right at Seungmin.
“Don’t ask questions you know the answer to, Seungie,” Hyunjin chides.
Seungmin coughs, his hand waves the smoke away and he can’t help but pout. “I know the
basics,” he admits. “But I was asking how you’re doing. You personally. It’s called
smalltalk.”
“I hate smalltalk.”
“I remember.”
Hyunjin takes another drag and for a moment, Seungmin thinks he’s going to drop it there but
then Hyunjin answers him.
“Bored,” he mutters.
Seungmin blinks at him,he’d expected a lot of answers but not that one.
“...bored?”
“Yep.”
“You’re the head of a major crime syndicate ruling Busan,” Seungmin points out with a
raised eyebrow. “How can you possibly be bored?”
“It’s fucking boring,” Hyunjin shrugs. “Do you know what gang bosses do most of the time?
They attend boring-ass meetings, talk to mind-numbingly dull people and spend a good 70%
of their time arranging heists and small jobs for revenue.”
“70% What do you do with the other 30%?”
“Try like fuck not to kill myself because I’m so bored.”
Seungmin laughs, he sees a small smirk curl at the tip of Hyunjin’s lips and this at least is
familiar. It’s like talking to his old friend again, even the lightest of caramel browns is back in
Hyunjin’s eyes despite the situation.
“Why did you ask me here, Seungie?” Hyunjin finally asks. “I doubt it was for smalltalk.”
He’s right of course. Seungmin reaches for his bag and pulls it up to his lap. He can feel
Hyunjin’s eyes on him, burning and curious as he pulls a small brown manila folder from his
bag and hands it to Hyunjin.
Hyunjin turns the folder over, his eyes widening and his heart stopping at the sight of the
label on the front: YANG JEONGIN.
He tosses his cigarette and uses both hands to open the folder and flick through the file. In the
corner of the profile, there’s a picture of Jeongin. His large bambi eyes stare out from the
photo, wide and almost frightened. Hyunjin looks over the profile details, the diagnosis of his
various mental illnesses, his medical history, everything is meticulously detailed.
He’s on several medications, notes upon notes detail his progress. When he’d been brought in
a year ago, he’d been psychotic and unresponsive. His grip on reality was shaky at best and
he kept trying to bite the nurses until they stuck him in a straitjacket and tied a muzzle over
his face.
As the months dragged on, Jeongin acted out less and less. At some point, the doctor
describes him as having some sort of ‘lucid awakening’ where he was suddenly aware of who
he was, where he was and what he’d done.
After that, the notes detail his progress in a more optimistic light. How he was able to eat
solid foods again, didn’t need the straitjacket as often (he was still prone to random psychotic
episodes but they’re not as common these days)
He’s still locked up. He’s still their patient, but he’s awake and he’s conscious of everything
that happened to him.
Hyunjin flicks to the last page where a doctor has jotted in several notes from the night shift.
“3:45am - talks in his sleep. Keeps tossing.”
“3:52am - More talking.”
“4:13am - Who’s Hyunjin?”
“Rosewood Asylum,” Seungmin tells him. “Under the pseudonym, Lee Dongji. He’s not
cleared for release and he never will be so however you get him out of there will be…you
know…illegal. Do your gang thing.”
“My gang thing?” Hyunjin snorts. “What? Do you think we just burst into places, guns
ablazing?”
“Well I don’t fucking know,” Seungmin huffs, an amused smile still playing on his lips as he
leans back into the park bench. “I just figure he’s been in there long enough. When Chan sent
him in, he told the asylum to look after him and bring him back - it looks like they did that. If
there’s one more thing I do before I leave this country, it’s tell you where Innie is. After that,
the ball is in your court.”
Hyunjin closes the file, he traces his fingers over Jeongin’s name and for the first time in a
long time, he feels something other than mind numbing boredom. Something small and
warm, hopeful blooming in his chest at the thought of his Jeongin back in his arms again.
Seungmin sighs. He pushes himself up onto his feet again and stretches his arms over his
head.
“I should get going,” he says. “I’ve got a dog and four cats to prepare for the big move.
They’re not gonna like it at all but I think we’ll manage.”
Hyunjin smiles, it’s a genuine smile and for a moment, it’s just familiar. It’s just them, old
friends in the place where they first met.
“Be safe, Seungie.”
“I always am,” Seungmin promises. “Go get Innie. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Hyunjin laughs, he waves Seungmin off and watches him leave the forest. A sense of finality
in his steps, a strange sort of positive assurance he hasn’t seen in the other since they were
children.
Maybe Seungmin is ready to start over.
Flicking the folder open again, Hyunjin looks over Jeongin’s photo. The warm feeling of
hope in his chest is spreading even as he takes his phone out and dials the first number on the
list.
Daniel answers, his tone just as scared and timid as it had been a year ago.
“S-sir?”
“Get a team together, arm them and give them bombs,” Hyunjin orders. “We’re meeting
outside Rosewood Asylum in two hours. Don’t be late.”
“B-Bombs?!” Daniel chokes just as Hyunjin cuts the call and turns his attention back to the
photo in the profile.
“Yang Jeongin,” he breathes, his thumb gently tracing the name on the paper. “Wait for me.”
There are good days and there are bad days.
On a good day, Jeongin’s medication intake is reduced. He’s free to wander the asylum,
snatch the last muffin off the food tray. He’s allowed to go outside and bask in the sun, good
days are nice.
On a bad day, thoughts plague his mind until he’s forced to scream just to hear himself. Bad
days are plagued with an increase in his medication. He downs so many pills he spends the
rest of the day either completely out of it or unconscious. Bad days are when his arms are
pulled into straitjackets and they leave him in the isolation room to scream and cry.
In his year at Rosewood Asylum, Jeongin has had to contend with his best and worst
memories. The isolation room, a room of supposed reflection, is actually where he relives his
memories. From his childhood days being poisoned by his mother, to his small stint in an
asylum as a teenager, to moving into Seoul Police Academy and being put on an undercover
mission to investigate Bang Chan.
He relives the first moment he saw Hyunjin glinting in the sun, the first moment Felix
wrapped him in his arms. He relives the golden days of God’s Menu, when he felt like he
belonged and in the same breath, he relives the worst days when holes in the walls, blood on
the floors marked the end of the restaurant and of his friends.
All of them, at some point, appear in his mind. Almost like a taunt, a reminder that no matter
how far he runs, how crazy he gets, all of them are imprinted into his brain. Like scars that
won’t ever fade, he’ll hear their voices in that isolation room, he’ll feel their touches through
hallucinations. He’ll cry for them in his sleep and wish he could live with his hallucinations
forever because reality is so much colder without them.
But, for all this, the doctors do say he’s improving. Slow, steady but it’s better than the
catatonic state he’d been in when he was first brought to them. Now he’s lucid, he’s
conscious, he’s aware of his thoughts and feelings - though he still has no way of controlling
them.
Most of all, he misses Hyunjin so badly it hurts. It’s Hyunjin’s hands he dreams of, Hyunjin
he thinks of especially when he’s in a straitjacket (thanks to that little stunt, Jeongin has
gotten turned on more than once whilst stuck in straitjackets and the doctors soon found out
not to go anywhere near him if he started hallucinating and calling them ‘Hyunjin’)
One year. One long year in Rosewood Asylum and Jeongin doesn’t black out anymore. He’s
conscious, he’s aware of himself and his memories. He breaks down a lot, he has what the
doctors call ‘episodes’ where he goes completely insane and starts screaming at everyone but
through all of this, Jeongin remains well aware of what he’s doing.
That in itself is the only improvement that really matters and he doesn’t know it, but it’s
exactly what Chan had been hoping for.
“Jeongin.”
Jeongin looks up, he’s lying on the therapists couch and he’s only just noticed his
psychologist is watching him with a strange look in her eye. He must have spaced out
because he can’t remember what she last said.
“Sorry,” he winces. “I was daydreaming.”
She smiles and Jeongin relaxes a little. It’s hard to relax here, he’s had bad experiences with
asylums and doctors but there are a few people here who seem to be genuinely trying to help.
His psychologist, Doctor Mae, is one of them.
It was her, along with some well meaning doctors who had advocated to get Jeongin’s braces
off before they were in there too long. It was her who encouraged the board to allow Jeongin
to change the colour of his hair (“Freedom of self expression has been known to help improve
mental health. He wants to dye his hair pink.”)
One year had passed and Jeongin had grown a little taller, his hair a little longer, tinged with
the lightest tone of pink. Without his braces, he somehow looks a little older, his features had
sharpened with age and whilst he was still undoubtedly young, there wasn’t anything
innocent about him anymore save for the doe eyes that stubbornly remained.
“Why don’t you start there?” she suggests as she adjusts her clipboard on her lap. “What
were you daydreaming about?”
Jeongin settles back into the plush cushion on the couch and stares up at the ceiling. He likes
the therapy room. In comparison to the sterile and too-clean environment of the asylum, it’s
one of the nicest rooms, normal with wooden flooring, nice clean walls in a peach sort of
tone. Decorated with pictures of stingrays and koi fish next to tall wooden bookshelves filled
top to bottom with thick books about the human mind.
Jeongin bets not one of them would be able to tell him how a brain tastes.
“I was thinking about everything,” he confesses. “Where I started….where I ended up…how

I got there…”
Doctor Mae hums and makes a few notes in her folder. “Were you thinking about anyone in
particular?”
“Everyone,” Jeongin says, his fingers fidgeting where they rest on his stomach. “Chan,
Felix…Minho…Han, Bin, Seungmin…”
He pauses and Doctor Mae looks up. She’s expecting him to say Hyunjin’s name again.
Sooner or later, Hyunjin always comes up in their sessions and anyone who sits with Jeongin
for ten minutes would be able to tell that of all the people he’d ever met, it was Hyunjin who
had the most profound impact on him.
In both a negative and positive way, Hyunjin had both grounded Jeongin and pushed him
over the edge.
Jeongin had needed a year to sort through his thoughts about him. He had nightmares about
Hyunjin eating him alive and he had wet dreams about him too. He thought about him every
second of every day and in a single minute he could hate him and love him too. He could find
himself consumed with the thought of wanting him so badly his skin crawled with the
thought of never having him again and in the same day, he’d wish he’d never met him.
To say Hyunjin had a confusing effect on Jeongin would be a major understatement.
But as time passed and Jeongin was able to control his thoughts, his feelings and his
memories, what he felt most predominantly was love. He loved him, he missed him and in
their sessions, she was starting to understand that of all the scars Yang Jeongin carried
around, Hyunjin was the deepest and most painful one.
“What would you say to him if he walked right through this door?” she asks with a nod to the
glass door leading to the hallway.
Jeongin glances at the door and shivers. “I’d slap him.”
Doctor Mae chuckles. “But what would you say to him? What would you tell him? Surely
you have some things you want to tell him?”
He does. As usual she hits the nail on the head. Jeongin has a million things he’d want to say
to Hyunjin and not all of them make any sense.
“I…” he mumbles quietly, his mind still thinking through it carefully. “I’d tell him I forgive
him. I’d ask him to forgive me. I’d tell him how close he came to being killed by me and how
close I came to being killed by him. I’d tell him I’m not better and I probably never will be
but I’m trying.”
Doctor Mae, bless her, says nothing. She doesn’t even write and just listens as Jeongin stares
up at the ceiling as if Hyunjin were there already.
“He’s the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing that passes through my
mind before I fall asleep. He haunts me in the isolation rooms and he’s completely ruined
straitjackets for me.”
Doctor Mae coughs, obviously trying to hide a laugh. Everyone knows what happened the
last time the doctors put Jeongin in a straitjacket. No one talks about it but the doctor whom
Jeongin had mistaken as Hyunjin had to go on special leave for a week to recover.
“Is that love?” Jeongin asks.
Doctor Mae blinks, it takes her a moment to realise that had actually been a question. She
looks over Jeongin and has to admit to herself that of all her patients, Jeongin is possibly one
of the most complex ones she’s ever encountered. She’s had patients ask her the same
question but most of them were in abusive relationships (standard abuse, drunk spouse,
beaten spouse syndrome, nothing like the cannibalistic and fucked up relationship Jeongin
had.)
Every time she’s asked that question, her answer has to be the same.
“I can’t answer that one for you,” she tells him. “I think you know what you’re feeling better
than anyone else. If it’s love, then you’d know it is, right?”
Jeongin nods slowly and Doctor Mae smiles.
“A year ago, you wouldn’t have been able to tell me this much, Jeongin. You’re making
excellent progress,” she comments happily. “Bad days aside, you really are-”
The distant sound of a crash stops her. Jeongin sits up fast and looks out the door, jumping
when he hears another crash. This time, the sirens of the asylum start to wail and Jeongin
looks up to the ceiling to see the alarms blinking red.
Perhaps it’s the chaos but panic isn’t the first thing that comes to Jeongin’s mind. Instead,
he’s gripped with familiarity.
“Wait right there, Jeongin,” Doctor Mae says, her clipboard dropping to the floor as she gets
up to go to the door and investigate. “If you need to, run outside to the courtyard.”
She leaves and Jeongin listens to the distant banging, screaming and chaos happening just
down the hallway.
There’s something extremely familiar and comforting about this. The screams, the banging,
the sound of explosions. A normal person might have panicked but as Jeongin gets up from
the couch, he realises he’s finding it comforting.
More bangs, more screams. Jeongin watches someone run past the door and he wonders if he
should start panicking yet but for the life of him, he just can’t bring himself to be concerned
about this.
The door opens, smoke billows into the room and Jeongin watches as Hwang Hyunjin, armed
to the teeth and grinning wide, walks in through the smoke.
The first thing Jeongin does is slap him.
“Took you fucking long enough!” he snaps, watching Hyunjin’s beautiful face snap to the
side with the force of his hand. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?!”
Hyunjin is gorgeous. He’s armed with leather belts and a bulletproof vest. His legs are in the
tightest black pants Jeongin’s ever seen him wear and his hair, just as long as Jeongin
remembers, is tied back slightly to keep it out of his face. Still long bangs hang on either side
of his pretty face.
“Sorry,” Hyunjin tells him. “It took me awhile to find you. Chan hid you really well.”
Jeongin pouts but he can’t keep it up for long. Not when Hyunjin is actually standing in front
of him. He throws himself at the other and Hyunjin catches him, their lips meeting in a
feverish kiss.
Jeongin can feel his blood singing, every ounce of him tingling like he’s on fire and he clings
to Hyunjin. He pulls at his hair, relishes in the sound Hyunjin makes and the way he shakes
as he holds onto Jeongin. It’s a telltale sign that he’d missed Jeongin just as badly, perhaps
even more.
When they finally pull away, the fire alarms are blaring through the asylum and Jeongin
doesn’t know what’s going on but right now he can’t bring himself to care. Hyunjin is the
only thing that matters right now.
“Shall we get out of here?” Hyunjin asks.
“Yes please,” Jeongin breathes, his lips pressing more little kisses along Hyunjin’s pretty
face.
Then someone rushes in through the door and without letting go of Jeongin, Hyunjin’s other
hand points a gun right between Doctor Mae’s eyes. She squeaks in fright and before he can
pull the trigger, Jeongin pulls back and grabs his wrist.
“No, not her!” he pleads. “Don’t shoot my psychiatrist!”
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow but he lowers his gun obediently as Doctor Mae blinks at the two
of them, her hands still raised.
“So…I take it….this is Hyunjin?”
Jeongin nods and Hyunjin glares at her.
“I’m taking Innie,” he tells her clearly. “You can either watch me take him or try to stop me
and I’ll shoot you in the head. Your choice.”
Doctor Mae shivers.
“In all honesty,” she tells him. “I don’t get paid enough to take shots to the head. Take him.
But before you do, please hit the pharmacy on your way out. He needs his medication.”
“I do,” Jeongin agrees with a nod. “They keep the nightmares away.”
“Fucks sake,” Hyunjin grumbles but he puts Jeongin down and taps the end of his gun on a
notepad on the coffee table. “Write down what he needs and how much.”
As Doctor Mae quickly writes what Jeongin needs, Jeongin is bouncing on the balls of his
feet and listening to the sounds outside. Every bang, every explosion and every scream
excites him the same way the sound of jingles might excite a small child waiting for Santa.
He watches as Doctor Mae rips the paper off the pad and hands it to Hyunjin.
She then turns to Jeongin.
“Well,” she sighs. “I suppose that’s it for our session. Promise me you’ll take care of
yourself?”
Perhaps it’s because Hyunjin doesn’t seem like he’s about to kill her or maybe she’s been in
dire situations before but she speaks as though they’re merely ending a session. Not standing
in an asylum that’s probably on fire and rigged with several bombs.
Jeongin feels Hyunjin take his hand and he grins.
“I promise.”
With a nod to the psychiatrist, Hyunjin pulls Jeongin away and out the door. Doctor Mae
watches them leave and it’s only when they’re gone that she jumps at the sound of another
bang.
She’ll have to find a new job. Maybe she’ll start writing that book. If the world would like to
hear the tale of a boy like Jeongin wrapped in a twisted world of upper class politics, a
cannibalistic restaurant and a group trying to stay together throughout it all, she’ll never have
to work again.
Wolgang Pa are still tearing the asylum down when Jeongin and Hyunjin finally escape
through the back. Over Hyunjin’s shoulder is a bag stuffed with every drug and pill he could
steal from the pharmacy (he’d actually ended up robbing the entire place after he’d taken the
drugs Jeongin needed - drugs are worth a lot after all and since he’s not in human trafficking,
he needs to find some way of making money).
The sun outside is warm, the air crisp and fresh as Jeongin runs out, hand in hand with
Hyunjin.
They near the cars parked just beyond the gate and Hyunjin looks up when he spots Daniel
waiting nervously near one of the cars.
“Daniel!” he calls, his hand tossing the keys to the poor boy. “You’re driving!”
Daniel drops the keys under the car and as he scrambles nervously to retrieve them, Hyunjin
tosses the bag of drugs into the back and turns around to pick Jeongin up. Jeongin almost
squeals, laughing as Hyunjin twirls them both around and around in sheer joy.
He presses him into another kiss and with the asylum burning in the background, the sound
of screams and fire and the scent of burnt wood, nothing could be more perfect.
4 Months Later
Ice clings to the corners of the massive freezer as the heavy door opens. Jeongin’s boots click
on the tile flooring as he walks inside, his eyes pinned to the whimpering man hanging by his
wrists from the hook on the ceiling.
“Daniel,” he says, making the skittish boy behind him jump. “Who’s this?”
“That..um…” Daniel shivers at the sight of the man. “That’s one of the traffickers. When
sajangnim…that is…when Hyunjin…killed the bosses, he didn’t get all the sex traffickers so
we’ve been hunting them down ever since.”
“Right,” Jeongin frowns, he tilts his head and studies the naked body shivering in front of
him. “He’s awfully skinny, isn’t he?”
Daniel’s fingers are shivering where he’s holding the clipboard. He hates the freezer. He’d
rather follow Hyunjin around. That is way better than what happens down here.
“Not gonna get much out of him,” Jeongin observes as he plucks a knife from the table
nearby and approaches the man. He pokes the tip of his blade against the soft belly, smiling
when the man shudders in response. “Barely enough for a toothpick, to be honest.”
Daniel blinks. “Um…we can give him to the pigs?”
“No need,” Jeongin sighs, the handle of the blade twirling between his fingers. “I can make a
snack out of him.”
With one quick slash, Jeongin cuts the throat clean open. Daniel winces as the blood starts to
flow quickly down the body, dripping onto the floor and staining it red.
He thought Hyunjin was the scariest person he’d ever met until Jeongin came along.
“Daniel?”
Daniel stands up straight, his blood freezing at the tone of Jeongin’s soft voice. It’s actually
scarier than Hyunjin’s barking command.
Jeongin turns, blood dotting his face as he smiles wide. With a knife in his hand, he looks
absolutely terrifying.
“Y-yes?”
“Be a darling and get me a cloth, will you?” Jeongin asks sweetly. “I’ve got a date with
Hyunjin tonight and it’s not polite to turn up covered in blood.”
“Right…right away,” Daniel promises, his legs scrambling him out of the freezer as fast as he
can.
When he’s gone, Jeongin turns back to the body. He starts carving at the skin and he’s left
alone for two minutes before the door opens again and the slow sound of boots strolling in
echoes in the freezer. Hyunjin’s warm arms snake around Jeongin from behind, his warm
chest pressing against Jeongin’s back.
“Innie,” Hyunjin hums, kissing the back of Jeongin’s neck. “You know you’re scaring my
assistant.”
Jeongin snorts. “Not my fault he scares easily.”
“Still. I’d like him to be able to carry out his duties without shitting himself every time I tell
him to go see you.”
Jeongin giggles. He turns around and wraps his arms around Hyunjin’s shoulders. He presses
a kiss to Hyunjin’s lips and shivers when Hyunjin drags his lips along his face and licks at
every speck of blood he finds.
“I’m still holding a knife,” Jeongin reminds him as he taps Hyunjin’s back with the pointy
end.
Hyunjin hums, his hands are already sliding up and down Jeongin’s sides.
“Kinky.”
“Daniel will be back soon with that cloth I asked him for.”
“Kinkier.”
“And I left the door unlocked,” Jeongin reminds him teasingly. “What if all of Wolgang Pa
wandered in halfway?”
Hyunjin picks Jeongin up and carries him until his back hits the cold wall. Jeongin giggles,
breathless and entranced as Hyunjin leans in to press their foreheads together.
“Like I said,” he whispers against Jeongin’s lips. “Plenty of room in the ground for anyone
who tries to challenge me. Either to my face or behind my back, I’d love to see them try.”
Jeongin pulls him into another kiss. They sink into each other, Hyunjin’s hands sliding under
Jeongin’s shirt and Jeongin’s hand holding Hyunjin’s jaw close. The other still holds the knife
that taps against Hyunjin’s back every now and then, almost a reminder.
Eventually their kisses grow more heated, hands start to grab and Hyunjin drags Jeongin
down onto the floor with him. Neither of them notice the door open, they don’t notice the
mortified look on Daniel’s face before the poor guy skitters out again and closes the door
behind himself. Hyunjin and Jeongin are too busy with each other to care but when Hyunjin
pulls back, cheeks pink, lips swollen and eyes blown out with lust, he smiles down at
Jeongin.
“Good puppy,” he whispers.
His hand comes up to play with Jeongin’s hair, thumb affectionately stroking the smallest
strands from his forehead. As he does, Jeongin looks up to the body hanging from the ceiling.
His smile lights his entire face up and Hyunjin grins at the sight.
“What are you thinking?”
“Veal sandwich,” Jeongin tells him. “With lettuce, tomato, wholegrain bread….”
“Sounds tasty,” Hyunjin comments, his lips pressing tiny kisses to Jeongin’s neck. “If you
make it tonight, I’ll pack it up and send it to the prison. I’m sure your father will love it.”
Jeongin giggles at the thought of having an unwilling customer who can’t run or refuse their
food. Especially not when Hyunjin pulled some strings with Wolgang Pa to ensure that the
members still behind bars promised to stuff the food down Yang’s throat if he tried to throw it
away.
It was a fun way to pass the time.
Leaning over Jeongin, Hyunjin watches his face and traces his hand down his cheek, down
his neck to his chest. He feels a strange but welcome calm over take him, the same that takes
over Jeongin too. Calm and peace, even in the eye of a hurricane like Wolgang Pa.
Jeongin has the same look in his eyes, complete adoration.
“I asked my psychiatrist if I loved you,” he tells Hyunjin, his lips spread wide into a smile as
if he’s telling a secret.
“Oh? What did she say?”
“She said I had to figure it out myself.”
Hyunjin snorts. “Copout.”
“I know, right?”
“So?”
Jeongin blinks, momentarily confused until Hyunjin pokes his cheek and tilts his head in
curiosity.
“S-so?”
“Do you love me?” Hyunjin prompts.
Jeongin hums, deliberately dragging it out as he pretends to think about it. Eventually he
shrugs and reaches a hand up to tuck Hyunjin’s hair behind his ear. “I might,” he confesses, a
teasing grin on his lips. “If you take me somewhere really nice tonight, I might even say it.”
Hyunjin exhales a breath he didn’t even realise he’d been holding. He sinks into Jeongin’s
body and nuzzles his nose against Jeongin’s. “Deal.”
“And you?” Jeongin asks, his head tilting back as Hyunjin nuzzles his neck.
“Me?”
“Do you love me?”
Hyunjin presses a kiss to Jeongin’s collarbone, he feels the other shiver in his hold and smiles
against his skin. Something inside him calms as he pulls his face up to look at Jeongin’s, eyes
warm and content.
“To the bitter, bitter end, Innie.”
Chapter End Notes
Whew!
Now some of you might have noticed the tags changed a bit (and that we finally have a
total amount of chapters) you may have also noticed that it's not exactly at the end and
that is because I wanted to leave one open for one more extra in the works. Main plot
wise, we are done here but there is one more extra coming (for those of you who want to
know what happened with Felix and Changbin in particular)
But WHEW. Oh my god we reached the end of this long-ass mountain and my god it has
been a long, long uphill struggle but so worth it to see it's ending at last. I never
promised it was going to be a happy one per se but I do want you to know that when I
wrote all death scenes, I cried a little bit (apparently it helps writing and releasing stress
hormones, of which I have plenty)
Thank you, thank you, thank you all of you who stayed with me from the beginning or
halfway through, all of you who just got here, thank you for making it to the end with
me. I really want you to know, it wouldn't have happened without you guys. Like really,
I was prepared for this story to never reach its end but you guys helped keep it afloat and
push it through to the end. So really, really, thank you so much.
And I'll see you next time! There is already another story in the works. There's also In
Venere Veritas still being written and ONE more extra chapter for this story so I promise
you have not seen the last of me :)
I love you all, I'm grateful for all of you and I'll see you soon!
Love always (to the bitter, bitter end) Zara.

EXTRA XXXIII: Memento Vivere
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
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TIKTOK: 1 | 2
The distant sound of sirens, the crackle of intercoms and the mindless chatter of the people
around him have dulled completely into background noise. Somewhere near him, a police
woman is trying to ask him questions but for the life of him, Seungmin can’t bring himself to
listen.
There’s a blanket over his shoulders. Trauma, apparently and all around him is a chaos of
blue and red, too many people standing around, too many people trying to understand what
happened here and all Seungmin can think is how cold his feet are.
He hadn’t thought to put his shoes on when they ushered him out of the kitchen. He hadn’t
paid any attention to the fact that his pyjamas are too thin in the frosty winter morning. The
fact of the matter is, he hadn’t had a chance to even throw a coat on before he was hustled out
of the house by helping arms who kept telling him everything would be alright.
They’re liars of course. How could anything be alright now? How would he ever be alright
after what he’d seen this morning?
He doesn’t look up until a clatter drags his attention to the black bag being carefully wheeled
out of the house. The body inside is tucked in tight, zipped in and carried out like she doesn’t
have a face, a name, just a tag on her toe that will identify her now.
“Seungmin.”
He looks up to see the police woman who’s been trying to talk to him for the last half hour.
She offers a small smile but it’s obvious even to her that there’s nothing she can say or do that
will make this situation any better.
What do you say to a teenager who just woke up and walked downstairs to the sight of his
mother, long dead and bleeding out on the floor from a fatal head injury?
“We’re going to need you to come down to the station to answer some questions,” the woman
informs him - albeit a little reluctantly. “Is there anyone you can call? A family member-”
“No,” Seungmin cuts in.
The woman frowns. “Not...a father?”
“No.”
He watches her body being taken away, the car drives down the road until it turns the corner
and disappears. He stares after it and it’s a strange thing. He’s sitting here, hands covered in
her blood, he’s seen her body slumped on the floor but it hasn’t hit him completely that his
mother is dead. That he’d seen her dead. Rather than devastated or traumatised - like he
thinks he should be - he feels numb instead.
Is that normal?
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the police woman nod to someone else and Seungmin is
soon taken into a police car. He’s packed into the back, blanket and all. He doesn’t even
remember the ride, he doesn’t remember being taken into the station.
When he finally looks up, he’s sitting at a table with two officers staring at him with pity in
their eyes. The blanket is still around his shoulders and all he can think to say is: “My feet are
cold.”
One of the officers, the one without the moustache, starts a little and looks down to see
Seungmin’s feet under the table. He turns to his partner and mutters something about getting
shoes for Seungmin.
His partner leaves and Seungmin looks at the moustached man in front of him. It’s quite an
impressive moustache, the kind that probably shot out of the 80’s. Big and bushy to go with
his big, bushy eyebrows. He looks like one of those assholes who spends their time at the
beach flexing his muscles and thinking women like that sort of stuff.
“Your moustache is huge,” he comments. Tone dry as ever as he stares at it. “Do you trim it?”
The officer clears his throat awkwardly and shuffles his papers. “Mr Kim-”
“Seungmin, please,” Seungmin answers, still dry and emotionless. “Too many Kim’s, you’re
going to get confused if you go around calling everyone Mr Kim.”
“Seungmin,” the officer sighs. “Please tell us about the incident. We need to know what you
saw, where you were, if you heard anything-”
“I don’t want to.”
“Seungmin-”
“I don’t want to,” Seungmin frowns. “Don’t make me relive it.”
“We need to know-”
“You do it then,” Seungmin snaps at him, sudden rage flaring up without warning. “Go on!
You do it! Go find your mother bleeding out on the kitchen floor and tell me what that feels
like!”
“Seungmin, I know you’ve been through something traumatic-”
“TRAUMATIC?!” Seungmin roars, his fist slams on the table as he stands up.
“TRAUMATIC?! You want to talk about traumatic?! Bringing your mother to the hospital
because her fuckhead of a husband beat her up for the millionth time is traumatic! Begging
her to file for a divorce and restraining order is traumatic! Watching your mother wear
sunglasses inside and pretend everything’s fine when she’s being beaten half to death every
single night is fucking traumatic!”
“Seungmin-”
“I begged!” Seungmin cries. “I begged and I begged and I called the police so many fucking
times. I called you assholes every single time I heard that monster come home and beat her
up and what did you tell me? You told me that if my mother didn’t want to press charges,
there was nothing to be done. You told me that she had to file a report before anything could
be done - she was fucking terrified every single day that he would do something worse if she
ever went against him and you just…”
Just like that, all the steam in him leaves in one shaky exhale. His legs are shaking, his entire
body is shivering and he sinks back down into his seat as tears finally spring to his eyes. He
wasn’t even aware how cold he was until his warm tears make him acutely aware of how cold
his skin actually is.
He shrinks in his chair, his hands coming up to clutch his hair. His entire body shudders with
each chest-wracking sob and somewhere in his mind, he wants to stop crying. He keeps
telling himself to calm down, pull himself together and stop crying but he can’t stop. Every
time he closes his eyes, all he sees is her. Her lying there, staring at him in a pool of blood
and he doesn’t even notice when someone awkwardly puts shoes on his feet.
Eventually he manages to curl himself into a ball. His arms folded on the table and his face
tucked into his sleeves. He cries, he screams and he sobs until he has no more tears left. He
doesn’t stop and no one tries stopping him.
At some point he falls asleep and the officers, well aware that he has nowhere else to go and
they still need to ask questions, place him in the warmest cell they have to be monitored until
morning.
The strangest thing, Seungmin finds in his later years, is that the one person who can
understand him best is also the first friend he ever made. If anyone knows what it’s like to
compare home to hell, it’s Hyunjin. Hyunjin who endured such horrors when he was too
young to realise it wasn’t right.
For the most part, Seungmin’s upbringing and his life with his mother had been fairly drama-
free. He had a loving relationship with her, she supported him in everything. She even knew
somehow that Minho was his boyfriend and she supported him quietly even though he never
actually came out to her.
Somehow she knew.
She also knew when Minho had left because she was right by her son the entire time he was
grieving, moping around the house and trying to get over him.
The more Seungmin looks through God’s Menu, the more he realises that he really is the rare
one. The one who knows what a loving parent is and the only other person is Felix. But when
it comes to domestic violence, to waking up in hell, to being reluctant to go home because
hell awaits, it’s Hyunjin who understands.
It happened slowly but at the same time, it feels like it came on too quickly. Simply referring
to his father as a step-douche turned into the man actually fully earning the name. At first
he’d just been this homophobic, trashy asshole his mother had somehow fallen for but after
they got married and he moved in, that’s when things really fell to pieces.
One hit turned to two, turned to Seungmin begging his mother to leave and she kept telling
him it was an accident. Her husband never meant to hit her, then she started saying it was her
fault for egging him on, it was her fault for not doing the washing, it was her fault for not
covering the bruise on her face.
Seungmin recognised the signs well enough but the thing is, he’d never lived in an abusive
home before. He didn’t care what his stepfather did to him but he was scared every time his
mother was left alone with the man. He tried getting help, he tried calling the police, calling
anyone, he tried everything and in the end, those hits went too far and he woke up one
morning to find her dead.
He wakes with a scream to find himself in an unfamiliar bed. He looks around, cold sweat
drenching him as he slowly pulls himself out of his bed and glances at the open bars. He’s in
a cell, but it’s open and there’s the moustache officer watching him from a desk nearby. The
moustache picks up his coffee, takes a sip and looks over Seungmin carefully.
“Morning,” he says. “Let’s have some breakfast and take another crack at those questions.”
The police rule him off the suspect list. Several therapists would be happy to tell them that
Seungmin’s grief and trauma is real enough.
Because he’s still underage and because he has no other family, it’s the state that takes care of
what happens to his mother. She’s cremated, a small ceremony held consisting of Seungmin
and a few social workers who came to take care of him. She’s then given a place to rest and
that’s when they tell him that because he’s still underage, he’s a ward of the state.
They take him with them back to their office, presumably to get him into the system and find
somewhere for him to stay. He’s in the car with them, still dressed in his funeral suit when
they say the words ‘foster care’ near him.
Then they make the mistake of stopping for gas, leaving him alone in the car for all of thirty
seconds and when they come back, Seungmin is gone.
In the vast and jungle-like city of Seoul, it’s very easy for a teenager to get lost. Especially
when he knows how. Seungmin disappears completely from the radar by going to the only
place he knows won’t ask him any questions.
He’d met the bartender at the Honeypot twice already, both times when he’d gone to see
Minho perform. Now Minho is long gone, having run off to Busan months ago but when
Seungmin runs in through the door, he sighs in relief at the only familiar face he has left in
this city.
The crowd of the Honeypot is as seedy as ever and Seungmin never did pay much attention
to the other dancers since his entire attention had been taken by Minho. It almost feels wrong
that Minho isn’t on that stage as he makes his way past men in their late forties, women out
for the night and the occasional young man who claims he was dragged here. Seungmin
pushes past them to the counter where the young man looks up and grins at the sight of him.
“Seungmin!” Insung beams, he hasn’t changed a bit since Seungmin last saw him. “What
brings you here?”
Seungmin imagines he looks a little strange. He’s overdressed in a black suit, white dress
shirt, dress pants and shiny shoes. Even after running all day, he still looks far better than
most of the people here. He pulls himself up onto the stool and sighs heavily.
“Long story,” he manages to say. “Can I have a water?”
Insung studies him and frowns. “You look like you could use something a little stronger, my
friend.”
“I don’t have any money,” Seungmin says. “Water please.”
Shrugging, Insung leans down to pour him a glass with ice. He places the water in front of
Seungmin who downs it all in one. In the background, the music gets louder as a new dancer
wanders out onto the stage but Seungmin can’t be bothered looking. He’s not interested if it’s
not Minho.
“What brings you here?” Insung asks as he pours Seungmin some more water. “Minho’s not
here, he quit ages ago.”
“I know,” Seungmin nods and he has to ignore the pang in his chest at the reminder that
Minho isn’t here. “I just...I didn’t know where else to go. This is the only place I could think
of.”
Sensing something wrong, Insung puts down the glass he’d been polishing and checks the
bar. When he’s sure no one is going to need him any time soon, he leans in.
“You okay?” he asks, dropping the customer service voice and adopting one that sounds
much more genuinely concerned.
Seungmin isn’t even sure how to answer that. It’s not an easy subject to bring up even when
prompted and he doesn’t even know where to start. He’s homeless, he’s an orphan and he
doesn’t know where to go but he knows he doesn’t want to go into foster care.
His mother’s funeral was today. Mere hours ago. Seungmin shakes his head slowly and bites
his lip. The last thing he wants to do is break down crying in the middle of a strip joint with
someone shaking their ass to a tinny version of Baker Street. He takes a deep breath, as if to
steady himself and looks at Insung.
“I need somewhere to stay,” he tells him. “Do you know anyone who wouldn’t mind having
me on their couch for a bit? Just while I figure out what to do.”
Insung winces. “I’d love to help you mate but I just moved. I barely have space or furniture
of my own otherwise I’d let you have my couch.”
Seungmin feels his stomach drop and he looks down at the counter. No money, no family, no
home, he may not have a choice but to be pushed into the foster system until he comes of
age.
“I do know someone who might be able to help though,” Insung says. “Hang on, I think he’s
in today. Wait here and lemme go find him.”
He’s gone in a flash, Insung disappears into the backroom and Seungmin slowly sips his
water. He feels a sort of slow depression sinking deep into his bones, a weary exhaustion
taking over him and it’s not surprising. He’s been on his feet for the last few days with
sorting out his mother, answering endless questions and finally being passed off to social
services. This is the first time he’s been on his own since it happened.
He did tell the police about his asshole of a stepfather and they did suspect him too -
especially because there was evidence that Seungmin had repeatedly called for help during
multiple abusive episodes. But because his mother never filed so much as a complaint, the
trail stopped at hard evidence.
It was just enough to get them to start looking for him. Not enough to get them to charge him
with anything until they had more proof.
That alone was frustrating.
The backdoor opens and Seungmin watches Insung come out with an older looking man. The
man is well dressed in a maroon coat. He has nice brown hair and a pleasant smile on his face
as Insung brings him to the counter and Seungmin stands to be polite.
“Seungmin, this is my boss, Kim Sungcheol. Boss, this is a friend of mine,” Insung
introduces them.
Seungmin bows slightly. “Nice to meet you.”
“No need to stand on ceremony here, we’re in a strip joint,” Sungcheol laughs. “I understand
you’re looking for somewhere to crash?”
“Yes...if you don’t mind,” Seungmin winces. “Just for a bit, I need to figure out what I’m
doing next and I have nowhere else to go….I can get a job and pay?”
“Nonsense, I have a spare room you’re free to take,” Sungcheol assures him with a pat to his
shoulder. “You’re in luck, I was just about to head home actually. I can take you with me and
get you settled in if you’d like? If I’m not too creepy?”
Seungmin is too tired to care who looks creepy and who doesn’t. He’s just grateful someone
is willing to take him in. He smiles and nods.
“Thank you so much, Mr Kim.”
“Call me Sungcheol,” the man assures him as he squeezes his shoulder gently and starts
leading him towards the door. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
He lives nearby. A short walk takes Seungmin to a tiny apartment on the third floor of a
building only ten minutes away from the club. Sungcheol flurries around him, telling him to
make himself at home whilst he whirls around the table, cleaning bowls and cups (“I was in a
rush this morning, didn’t have time to do the dishes-so embarrassing. Please sit anywhere you
like!”)
Seungmin feels the weight of the day hit him like a ton of bricks as he sinks himself into a
chair at the end of the dining table and looks around curiously. The apartment is little but
cosy. A little eating area and kitchen, a very small area for a sofa and a TV. There are three
doors to the left of the entrance, two lead to bedrooms and one to a bathroom.
He looks up when Sungcheol comes back from hastily cleaning away his dishes.
“Sorry about that, I was in a rush.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s your house,” Seungmin reminds him with a tired smile.
Sungcheol observes him curiously and tilts his head. “Well you look exhausted, starving...all
of the above really. Which are you feeling more, food or bed? Or maybe...food in bed? Or
perhaps bed in food, what’s your flavour?”
Seungmin appreciates that he isn’t asking why this kid is here, homeless, nowhere to go,
dressed like he’s just been to a funeral. After spending the last few days doing nothing but
answering questions, the last thing he wants to do is answer more. He knows he should eat,
he hasn’t eaten since breakfast when the social workers somehow managed to force oats
down his throat but for the life of him he can’t bring himself to feel hungry.
Maybe it’s the shock, the lingering trauma. Or perhaps he’s too exhausted to work up an
appetite but his body is shaking with stress, hunger and exhaustion.
But he doesn’t want to sleep either. Because when he closes his eyes, he knows what he’ll
see.
There’s a noise and he looks up to see Sungcheol has pulled a chair out and is sitting at the
table with him. His eyes are kind, curious as they watch Seungmin and for a moment,
Seungmin is afraid he’s going to ask about his past.
He doesn’t. Instead Sungcheol studies him for a few minutes and nods slowly.
“I think soup,” he decides. “Something light and easy. Soup, then bed. You look like you
could sleep for a year.”
Try forever, Seungmin thinks morbidly.
Sungcheol dashes off to the kitchen and as he clatters about in there making soup, Seungmin
sinks back into the chair. He doesn’t know why, but at this particular moment, he thinks of
Minho.
The boy left him months ago. Broke his heart in two and ran off to Busan. No explanation, no
hint as to what he was going to do there. Just disappeared and what Seungmin still doesn’t
understand is how they managed to break apart so quickly. They were perfectly happy until
one day Minho started avoiding him and Seungmin started getting wary about Minho’s job.
It wasn’t just the stripping...sure, the stripping bit concerned Seungmin but what really
concerned him was that Minho never seemed to think he was better than that. Stripping is a
valid job if he actually likes it but Minho has never been anything else. He got into it early
and he stuck to it - though he may be good at it, there may also be other things he could do.
Other things he could reach if he only believed in his own intelligence enough.
That was all he wanted to say and then Minho blew up. Just...vanished.
He wonders what Minho would do if he knew what just happened to Seungmin. Would he
care at all? Would he ask those horrible questions the police have been asking for days? Or
would he take him in, let him cry and not ask why?
Soon enough, a bowl of steaming chicken noodle soup is placed in front of him. Seungmin
doesn’t feel his appetite stir in the least even when the scent reaches his nose.
“I know you might not want to eat, but you should eat something,” Sungcheol tells him as he
gives him a spoon. “Try to get down what you can and take it slow. I don’t know what you’ve
been through, kid, but we all have to keep our strength up.”
To his credit, he doesn’t just sit there and stare to make sure Seungmin eats. That’s what the
social workers had done and eating with an audience has always made Seungmin feel weird
and anxious. Instead, Sungcheol leaves him to it. He wanders off, humming to himself as he
goes into his room to change out of his business suit.
Seungmin has to force himself to pick up the spoon. He manages two spoonfuls of soup and
the second the broth hits his tongue, his appetite comes to life. It’s like it needed the physical
reminder that he was actually hungry. Seungmin leans over, spooning the broth and noodles
at a steady pace. He sips and swallows down the soup in record time and when Sungcheol
comes out again, the bowl is empty and Seungmin takes a deep breath.
He feels a little better for it.
“Good,” Sungcheol beams as he comes back to him. “Was that enough, did you need any
more?”
“That was enough, thank you,” Seungmin says, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “Thank
you. I didn’t realise I was that hungry.”
“You’re welcome,” Sungcheol smiles. “Don’t stand on ceremony though, make yourself at
home. If you need any more food, please help yourself to the kitchen whenever you like.”
Seungmin smiles, he sways a little in his seat and Sungcheol seems to recognise why because
in the next minute, he leans down to help Seungmin onto his feet.
“I’ll show you to your room,” he tells him.
The spare room is fully furnished. Complete with a single bed right next to the window that
overlooks the area. There’s a bookshelf against the other wall with a closet near the window
and a desk near the door. Seungmin looks around curiously and turns to Sungcheol.
“Is it really okay for me to be here?” he asks. It feels less like a spare room and more like
someone’s bedroom.
“It’s fine,” Sungcheol assures him. “I never use this room anyway so it’ll be nice to know the
furniture is getting some use in it.”
Seungmin bites his lip and looks around. “I’ll pay you back the second I figure out how.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Sungcheol tells him. “Really. You look like you’re going through
enough, I’m just glad I can help in some way.”
Suddenly, Seungmin can feel a lump growing in his throat. He hasn’t been shown this much
kindness since...since he first met Minho and Minho showed him around town for no reason
other than he liked his company.
Seungmin swallows down a sob and looks down. “Thank you.”
He imagines he must look pretty pitiful now. Sungcheol pats his shoulder and gives it a small
friendly squeeze.
“It’ll be better in the morning, you’ll see,” he assures him. “Bathroom is down the hall, I
have a spare toothbrush near the sink - it’s the green one. Just help yourself to anything but
first I really think you could do with some sleep. You look like you’re about to collapse.”
Seungmin certainly feels like he’s on the verge of collapsing.
Sungcheol walks past him to the closet where he digs around inside for a moment before
pulling out a plain white shirt and checkered sweatpants.
“You look about the same size,” he says as he hands the clothes to Seungmin. “I’ll get you a
towel. You can have a nice hot shower, a nice sleep and you’ll see - it’ll all be better in the
morning.”
Seungmin feels a tear slipping down his cheek. He rubs it off with his sleeve and follows
Sungcheol to the bathroom where he’s given a towel and a short explanation on how the
shower works (“I’ve been meaning to replace the shower for a month now. If the water stops
running, just give the faucet a good whack.”)
Then he’s left alone. Seungmin cries in the shower, he takes advantage of the water and sobs
his heart out. After he’s dried and dressed, he’s taken to bed where he curls under the plush
duvet cover and curls up. He looks at the view of the city lights just beyond the window and
he doesn’t know why, but he thinks of Minho.
The pillow kind of has his scent. It’s faint and Seungmin thinks that maybe Sungcheol just
uses the same soap or something. After all, there’s no way Minho’s actually been here.
Still, he’s grateful for the scent. It’s a little comforting. It lulls him to sleep even as his tears
wet the pillowcase and exhaustion falls over him like a blanket until at last he’s out like a
light.
The next morning, Seungmin’s face is all over the news. Seungmin wanders out of his room
to see Sungcheol on the couch watching TV and sure enough, there he is. Face plastered on
the screen beneath a plea from the police looking for him in relation to a homicide case.
Seungmin glances at Sungcheol who looks at him with a small raised eyebrow.
“I can explain,” he blurts, half afraid Sungcheol is about to give him to the authorities. “I
really-”
“It’s okay,” Sungcheol tells him calmly. “I sort of figured you were running from something -
no one comes to the Honeypot looking for help unless something serious happened.”
“Yeah but that…” Seungmin points to the TV. “That is implying I had something to do with
the homicide, I don’t.”
“I’m not judging,” Sungcheol assures him. He gestures to the armchair and smiles. “Why
don’t you tell me what’s going on and I’ll see if I can help in some way?”
Seungmin glances at the screen again. They really don’t leave much to the imagination. The
police ask the public for help in looking for not only him but also his stepfather. Both in
relation to a recent murder case.
He feels something in his stomach tighten with anxiety as he slowly heads to the armchair
and sinks down into the seat with a shaky breath.
It’s still too raw. It’ll be raw for years but at the very least, Sungcheol deserves to know what
kind of person is living in his apartment with him. At the very least he deserves the chance to
make up his own mind about whether or not to keep him.
“That...murder case they’re talking about was my mother,” Seungmin explains and he can’t
look at Sungcheol properly. He stares down at his knees instead. “I found her…”
It feels like months ago and at the same time it feels like seconds ago. Seungmin has to rack
his brains to keep track of the days and how long it’s been since he found her in the kitchen.
“...three days ago. My stepfather killed her and he’s missing too. I was taken in by the state
but because I’m still underage they were going to put me into foster care so...so I…”
“So you ran,” Sungcheol finishes for him.
Seungmin dares to lift his gaze and he doesn’t see judging on Sungcheol’s face. Oddly
enough, what he does see is understanding. Quiet understanding that whatever Seungmin is
tangled in, it’s difficult and he doesn’t judge him for it.
“Yeah…”
Sungcheol nods, he seems to accept that as a suitable enough explanation and Seungmin has
to ignore the knots in his stomach. He’s afraid Sungcheol is about to kick him out, maybe call
the cops and they’ll come and put him in foster care. But instead Sungcheol just turns the TV
off and sighs.
“Hungry?” he asks as he gets up to his feet and wanders to the kitchen. “I’m thinking stew
for lunch.”
Seungmin blinks in surprise and watches Sungcheol disappear into the kitchen area. For a
moment, Seungmin doesn’t know what to think or what to do but then Sungcheol’s voice
calls from the kitchen.
“Let’s go find your step-father,” he says. “Maybe we’ll find him before the police do.”
It should have been a horrible idea. It should have been obvious that the police would find
him first, that Seungmin didn’t have a chance in hell but right at this moment, all he wanted
to do was kill the man who’d taken his mother away from him. The police wouldn’t do that, a
lengthy trial would drag things out and one day he’d get his freedom back, Seungmin didn’t
want that.
“Yeah,” he breathes, his hands curling into fists. “Let’s do that.”
Sungcheol has a surprising amount of contacts. As a strip club owner, it makes sense that
he’d get in contact with a lot of different people but Seungmin never really thought about
what kind of people would not only walk into the Honeypot, but also think to enter a
relationship with its owner.
Over the following months, Sungcheol reaches out to his contacts for information on the
whereabouts of Seungmin’s step-father and as he does that, Seungmin spends that week
hiding from the police and thinking about what he’d do, what he’d say if he ever came face to
face with that asshole ever again.
Maybe he’d kill him. Maybe he’d beat him up the same way the man had beaten his mother.
Maybe he’d tie him to a chair and repeatedly bash his face in with a baseball bat until not
even dental records would be enough to identify him.
Seungmin spends a lot of time in his new room thinking about how he’ll make that man pay
for taking away his mother.
But he also thinks about Minho. He isn’t sure why but Minho is on his mind a lot. His room
smells like Minho still, the shampoo and conditioner Sungcheol kept in the bathroom must
have been the same one he used and in a strange way it’s comforting. The bed smells like
him, the room smells like him, it’s almost like he’s with Seungmin.
Seungmin wonders what Minho would do if he knew what was happening right now. Would
he be supportive? Would he understand that Seungmin wants to kill the man or would he try
and stop him?
Sometimes Seungmin thinks about beating the man to death, being covered in his blood and
then happening upon Minho right afterwards. He wonders if the other would recognise him
still or if he’d run from him. The more the thoughts of revenge and murder consumed him,
the less he recognised himself.
His mother wouldn’t recognise him. She hadn’t raised him to be the kind of person who’d
take revenge on another, or even think about murdering another. But then again, in those last
few months of her marriage, Seungmin hadn’t recognised her either. She’d become a ghost of
who she used to be, beaten and tortured, scared into submission. She wasn’t herself, not the
woman who raised him.
And he cries. He cries a lot. He soaks the pillow until the scent of Minho fades and he has to
turn the pillow around to the cooler side so the scent comes back. He cries in the shower,
sometimes he’s sure the tears won’t ever stop. It isn’t just his mother he cries for, he cries for
Minho too and sometimes he even cries for Hyunjin.
He feels so alone and really, the only person by his side this entire time is Sungcheol.
Sungcheol who seems to wordlessly understand and let Seungmin cry freely. Seungmin is
grateful for his silent presence.
Seungmin eventually starts working at the Honeypot alongside Insung. He works the bar,
learns the ropes and contributes to the household expenses for Sungcheol. It distracts him,
gives him something to do and honestly, it’s actually not that bad.
None of the dancers are as beautiful as Minho was. Even now, the legend of Minho’s
presence in the Honeypot is something most long-term customers still talk about (often with a
longing tone that Seungmin understands better than most). Seungmin enjoys the work, enjoys
the distraction from his own thoughts and enjoys the opportunity to learn how to mix
different drinks.
He also gets to meet different people. The clientele of the Honeypot is surprisingly varied and
Seungmin meets a lot of very different and interesting people.
It’s after a year of working, of Sungcheol hitting up various contacts that Sungcheol finally
comes home one Friday evening with a large grin on his face.
“Get your coat,” he tells Seungmin. “I found him.”
The lights of the city seem to pass by the window slowly as Seungmin fidgets in the front
seat. He’s wearing a hoodie he found in the closet, it’s not his but it engulfs him comfortably
enough and strangely, it smells strongly of Minho.
He has the hood drawn up over his head and as he listens to the low hum of the radio, he
watches the city lights pass as Sungcheol drives them through the city.
Sungcheol doesn’t say anything and Seungmin’s kind of grateful for it. The guy can be really
chatty sometimes and other times he’s quiet, like now when they’re on their way to the man
who killed Seungmin’s mother.
God. What would Seungmin do? What will he do when he sees his face again? Seungmin
tries to imagine the man, his facial features, all the times he screamed at his mother and
punched her lights out and for some reason, Seungmin can’t remember him clearly.
Had he spent the last year blocking all bad memories out? Perhaps he had, for his own sanity
and self preservation if nothing else. His fingers tap his knees, they curl into fists and he
wonders how he’d gone through an entire year without going crazy, but now it’s here. Now
he’s about to find the man who’d ruined his life and for all his anger, he doesn’t know what
he’s going to do to him - if he’s going to do anything to him at all.
“Hey Sungcheol?”
“Mm?”
“What’s he…I mean…” Seungmin winces at his own racing thoughts and turns to look at the
man who’d housed him and taken care of him for the last year. “What’s he like? How did you
find him?”
Sungcheol blinks at him and turns his attention back to the road. “I…didn’t actually see him,”
he confesses. “A contact of mine found him. Said he’d been laying low since…you know…
that’s why it took so long to find him.”
“Oh.”
“Are you having second thoughts?”
“No,” Seungmin frowns. “No, nothing like that. I don’t know what I’m gonna do to him but
at the very least…at the very least I wanna look him in the eyes and…maybe try to
understand why he did that. Why he killed her. Maybe then I’ll figure out what I wanna do to
him.”
Sungcheol hums and Seungmin turns his gaze back to the window. They’re not in Seoul
anymore, the city lights are far behind them as Sungcheol drives his way out of the city. The
lights outside are replaced instead with darkness and Seungmin fidgets restlessly.
“How far is he?”
“A bit out of the city,” Sungcheol tells him. “It’ll be a few hours. The guy ran pretty far.”
That makes sense. Seungmin rests his head back on the headrest and tries to take a deep
breath to calm his nerves. His stomach is twisting, his hands are shaking and the only comfort
is the fact that the hoodie smells like Minho.
He closes his eyes and imagines Minho there with him. If Minho could accept that Seungmin
wants to kill a man, if Minho could hold his hand and stay with him, would he whisper in his
ear right now? Would he be sitting next to him, kissing his head and would he understand
why Seungmin needs to do this?
“It’s okay, Seungie,” Minho would whisper, his fingers carding soothingly through
Seungmin’s hair. “It’s okay.”
Hyunjin would understand. Of that, Seungmin has absolutely no doubt. Hyunjin would be
right there with him.
“Lets get him together,” he’d say, his smile twisting his beautiful face into something truly
demonic. The chocolate brown in his eyes darkens with revenge as he holds Seungmin’s hand
and squeezes. “Bastard deserves worse.”
Seungmin imagines them both next to him. One on either side, both supporting him, both
understanding that even though this is murder and Seungmin has never hurt anyone before in
his life, he has to do this. He has to. The man killed his mother and Seungmin has never been
the same.
He has to do this.
He falls asleep during the ride and when he wakes up, the first thing he sees is a warehouse.
He hears the distant sound of water crashing onto the shore and he wonders how far away
from the city they are.
“We’re here,” Sungcheol tells him.
Seungmin steps out of the car and into freezing cold air. He shivers as he shuts the door
behind him and looks up to see Sungcheol has taken him to what appears to be an area of
warehouses and shipment crates. He frowns and turns to look at Sungcheol.
“Where are we?”
“Well,” Sungcheol nods to the large red crate nearby. “When you’re trying to catch someone
who doesn’t want to be brought in, you gotta find places they can’t run from.”
Seungmin glances at the large crate and pales. Is the man in there?
Somehow knowing the man who’d tortured his mother, who’d killed his mother and
traumatised Seungmin, knowing he’s just in that crate, barely a minutes walk away makes
Seungmin’s blood freeze. His brain is all over the place, is he going to kill him? What could
he say to him? Is there anything to say? Can he really do this?
Sungcheol pats his back and Seungmin somehow manages to force his legs to follow him
towards the crate. Seungmin is hyper-aware of everything, the sound of his breathing, the
sight of his breath in the air because it’s so cold, the sound of the gravel crunching
underneath their shoes, everything.
He follows Sungcheol and watches the man open the crate door with a loud squeak that
seems to echo in the area. He follows him in and when he looks up, he sees a man standing in
front of him. The man is dressed in a fishnet shirt with a black vest and leather pants. He
seems to be about 50% piercings and chains and the way he’s looking Seungmin up and
down sends shivers down Seungmin’s spine.
Standing behind him are three large, burly men, all of them watching Seungmin.
“This the boy?” the fishnet man asks.
Sungcheol nods and alarm bells are going off like crazy in Seungmin’s head but he barely
gets the time to understand what’s going on before one of the burly men is suddenly right in
front of him and grabbing his arm.
“What’s…what?!” Seungmin gasps, he turns to Sungcheol with wide eyes. “What’s

going…?”
“Of course I recognised you,” Sungcheol tells him, his eyes are cold and he looks completely
different to the man who’d taken Seungmin in over a year ago. “You’re the one who took
Minho away.”
“Min…” Seungmin gasps, a hand clamps over his mouth and he tries to scream but it comes
out muffled as another strong pair of arms lift him up.
He sees the fishnet guy pick up a suitcase from the corner of the container and hand it to
Sungcheol with a smile.
“As promised,” he says. “Took my boys awhile to find him but he’s there. I have all the
things you’re gonna need to take him too, including a hideout in Daegu.”
“Good,” Sungcheol smiles. “Where is he?”
“Busan.”
Seungmin screams, he tries to fight but there are two men holding him down and they’re both
so much bigger than him. Sungcheol leaves the warehouse without looking back once and
when the door slams shut behind him, fishnet guy turns around to look at Seungmin.
“Cute,” he says, his eyes raking over Seungmin’s form appreciatively. “You’ll fetch a pretty
price.”
Are they…?! Seungmin’s eyes widen in sudden realisation. Are they going to sell him?!
He screams and kicks, thrashes in their arms but fishnet guy just smiles. Then something
sharp pricks Seungmin’s neck and the world goes black.
Seungmin remembers very little about the next three days. He’s kept on heavy drugs and
keeps floating in and out of consciousness. He’s moved around a lot, usually blindfolded,
tucked into the trunks of cars, kept on chains that rub his wrists raw. He’s rarely ever fed,
clearly they have no problem with starving him so long as he’s still something they can sell.
From what Seungmin can recall though, no one touches him. Not to fuck him anyway. He’s
there to be sold and at one point he remembers being high out of his mind, stripped naked
and made to stand in front of a camera.
He comes across a lot of others as well. People in the same position as him, drugged to the
eyeballs, high as fuck and in chains.
Seungmin is too drugged to panic about it, too high to really feel any real concern for his
safety - though he knows he should be more scared. He appreciates the reprieve that being
too high does for his aching brain.
The only downside of being that fucked up all the time is the hallucinations. Seungmin would
be sitting there, chained to the ceiling and he’d see Hyunjin coming into the warehouse to
look over him. He’d look up and Hyunjin’s pretty face would be right in front of him,
perhaps a little older but still undeniably beautiful.
“Look at you, Seungie,” Hyunjin laughs, his voice sounds distorted and strange to
Seungmin’s ears. “You’re really fucked up.”
“Hyunjin…” Seungmin mumbles. “Get me outta here…”

“No can do, baby,” Hyunjin sighs. “You left me behind, remember?”
Sometimes it’s worse. Sometimes he sees his mother and she doesn’t recognise him at all.
Sometimes she walks into the warehouse and walks right by him. Sometimes she’s calling his
name and even though he’s right there, right in front of her, she doesn’t see him.
And sometimes it’s Minho. Minho who’s running his cold fingers over the chains and
Seungmin’s aching wrists.
“Does it hurt, baby?” he whispers. “I’ll make it better...remember what I always used to tell
you. Do you remember?”
Seungmin’s head lolls, the world spins and Minho is whispering in his ear something he
hasn’t told him in years.
“Thou art alive. Thou art still living…”
On the fourth day, fishnet guy comes back in just as one of the guards is feeding Seungmin.
“No drugging him today,” he says. “We have a buyer.”
Seungmin’s senses come back to him during the drive. When he comes to, he’s clothed for
once but his hands are still bound in chains. He recognises the big burly guards seated on
either side of him, Fishnet in the drivers seat in front of him. His head lolls but he’s conscious
now, conscious and becoming increasingly aware how much they’ve starved him over the last
few days.
“You got lucky,” Fishnet keeps telling him as they park up at the same warehouse area he’d
been kidnapped in. “It usually takes awhile to find a buyer, this one wanted you specifically.”
Seungmin feels his stomach lurching and he’s not sure if he’s going to be sick or not.
He’s dragged out of the car and back into the red container where they wait until a knock on
the door signals the arrival of Seungmin’s buyer. Seungmin’s arms are being held by the
guards and he watches as the door opens and instead of an older, pervy sort of businessman
walking in - like he’d expected - instead he sees someone his age. Perhaps a little bit older.
The man is carrying a suitcase, he’s dressed in a black three piece suit and his hair is pure
white.
Seungmin watches him greet fishnet guy and narrows his eyes. He’s only just coherent
enough to understand that this guy is here to buy him.
“I see you’ve kept him in pristine condition,” the guy says with a nod to Seungmin. He puts
the suitcase down and smiles. “You’ll find the entire amount there in cold hard cash.”
“Excellent,” fishnet guy smiles.

He leans down to open the suitcase and sure enough, there it all is. In cold, hard stacks of
cash Seungmin thought only existed in action movies. As fishnet counts, Seungmin looks up
to his buyer and thinks he sees him wink.
“It’s all there,” Fishnet confirms, he turns to his guards. “Let him go.”
Seungmin almost drops when the support on his arms is suddenly released. He stumbles a
little, his vision blurring a bit as he struggles to steady himself.
“One question,” his buyer asks as Seungmin stumbles towards him. “Have you guys done
anything to him?”
“What do you mean?” Fishnet asks.
Seungmin reaches him and his buyer takes his arm (a lot gentler than those guards had) and
pulls him behind himself.
“Like…” his buyer shrugs. “Have you fucked him?”
“No,” Fishnet says with a chuckle. “We never touch the merchandise. Sajangnim would kill
us.”
Seungmin barely gets a warning because his buyer chuckles and shrugs.
“Oh good, good,” he says. “Because, you know, I was gonna say that if any of you assholes
touched him, I’d have dragged this out longer but since we don’t have to worry about that,
this will be real quick.”
Seungmin doesn’t see it coming, neither do the others. Within a split second, his buyer pulls a
gun out and shoots fishnet between the eyes. The guards are too slow to react before the
buyer rounds on them, shooting each in the head and downing them in seconds.
Seungmin jumps back, his eyes wide in fright as the guy puts his gun back and turns to
Seungmin with a relieved sigh.
“Sorry about that,” he says as he comes up to Seungmin and checks over the chains holding
his hands together. “Human traffickers, I hate them. Scum of the universe actually - you need
a key.”
The man turns around and crouches over Fishnet’s body to check his pockets. As he does,
Seungmin stares in disbelief. Was this man here to save him?
“Who…are you?”
“Aha!” The man cheers triumphantly as he pulls a key out from Fishnets pocket and jingles it
happily. He stands back up and comes back to Seungmin to undo the chains. “I’m Bang
Chan. You can call me Chan.”
The chains drop from Seungmin’s wrists with a heavy clunk on the concrete floor. Seungmin
stares at Chan and it hits him, he does know this guy. He’s seen him on newspapers and
magazines countless times. Bang Chan, the son of the prime minister.
“And you’re Kim Seungmin, correct?” Chan grins. “How the fuck did you end up tangled
with human trafficking?”
Seungmin wants to answer. Honestly he does, he wants to tell him he got fucked over by
some asshole he thought he could trust. But the first thing that comes out of Seungmin’s
mouth is not a verbal answer but rather the bile from his empty stomach as he vomits all over
Chan’s chest and his shoes.
Chan jumps back in surprise but the damage is already done. Seungmin groans, keeling over
with his hands on his aching starved stomach.
“Right…” Chan says after a moment. “Um…first thing’s first. Maybe a shower and some
food.”
Chan takes Seungmin back to Seoul. The whole ride there, Seungmin can’t help but notice
how clean and new the interior of Chan’s car is. Of course it’s new and expensive, it’s
fucking Bang Chan, the guy could buy a helicopter and it probably wouldn’t even make a
dent in what his family earns in a day.
He’s taken to a hotel he’d have never been able to afford in his lifetime. Chan sets them both
in a room and guides Seungmin to sit on the end of one of the double beds.
“I would get you in the shower first,” he says as he picks up his phone. “But I’m legitimately
afraid you’re going to faint in there so the first thing we need to do is feed you - THEN you
can shower.”
Seungmin sways where he sits. Right now he doesn’t care what’s going on. All he knows is
that someone is taking care of him and yeah, maybe he should be concerned that Bang Chan
is going to fuck him over like Sungcheol did but right now he doesn’t have the energy to
care.
Chan orders in food, mostly light and easy to eat things like soup and crackers with tomato
and ham on top. Seungmin eats slowly, as hungry as he is, his stomach is also aching and
punishing him for starving it. He’s aware of the lump in his throat making it hard to eat.
“Take it slow,” Chan advises. “They starved you for awhile and you’ve been high for days.
Your body isn’t going to get back to normal quickly.”
Seungmin throws up one more time but he does make it through dinner, then Chan lets him
shower but when he almost collapses under the heat of the water, Chan has to come in and
help him. Again, maybe Seungmin should be more concerned for his own safety, especially
when he’s naked in front of Chan, but right now he really can’t find it in himself to care.
Chan doesn’t hurt him. He doesn’t touch him in any way other than to help him shower, help
him dress and help him into bed.
“Easy,” Chan says as he lowers Seungmin into the plush mattress. Seungmin groans in relief
as Chan arranges the pillows under his head and pulls the blanket over him.
“Easy, Seungmin. I’ve got you,” Chan assures him.
Seungmin wants to ask him why he’s doing this. What possible reason he could have for
wanting to save him and help him but he can’t. He’s unconscious before he can even form the
first word.
It takes about three days for Seungmin to bounce back. Chan keeps him fed, he takes care of
him and every time Seungmin asks him why he’s doing this, Chan dodges the question. They
spend those three days in the hotel room and Seungmin notices Chan does get called a lot.
Well maybe that’s not surprising, Chan should be busy after all - being who he is. Seungmin
watches him answer calls and the most frequent calls are from a ‘Changbin’ and ‘Han’.
“Han, I’ll be back soon,” Chan is saying one afternoon whilst Seungmin is curled up on his
bed watching infomercials on TV. “Well I don’t fucking know, I’m not even in the city! Tell
Bin to buy some more noodles or something, or get off your ass and cook something, I know
we have chicken in the freezer, I bought some before I left.”
Seungmin is watching some lady trying to sell him some hair-regrowth cream that ‘really
works!’ but in all honesty he’s listening to Chan with increasing amusement.
“No, Han, pizza is not a vegetable. If you buy pizza with pineapple on it, I’ll disown you.”
Seungmin snorts, he sees the small smile on Chan’s face and he feels bad for listening in but
Chan doesn’t seem to mind it.
“Look, babe, just uber something in if you’re so hungry and reluctant to cook,” Chan finally
sighs. “I’ll be home soon.”
He ends the conversation and leans back on his bed with a tired sigh.
Seungmin glances at him curiously. “...boyfriend?”
“Roommate,” Chan corrects him with a small grin. “Brother…kind of. He’s lazy and doesn’t
like cooking. God help the poor soul he decides to marry.”
Seungmin grins. He taps his blanket and looks back to the TV.
“Hyung,” he says. “I really appreciate this, you’ve been looking after me and you saved me
from literal human traffickers but…I have to ask you, why are you doing this?”
He looks over to see Chan watching him.
“You don’t even know me.”
“Not entirely true,” Chan admits quietly. “Maybe I don’t know the details but I know what
happened to you. I know what happened to your mother and I know why you ran away from
the authorities. It wasn’t because you were guilty, it was because they were about to stick you
in foster care.”
Seungmin blinks, how could Chan possibly know that?
“I know the asshole your mother married is the one who killed her and the police are
scratching their asses because they can’t find him,” Chan continues. “I know you laid low for
a year but when you turned up online, I knew I had to get you out of there - plus I’m always
looking for an excuse to kill human traffickers. They are very much the scum of the
universe.”
“But why me?” Seungmin presses with a small frown. “You didn’t have any reason to save
me, you don’t know me.”
Chan doesn’t answer. Not right away at least. He just watches Seungmin, his sharp eyes seem
to see right through Seungmin. Right through his lies, his trauma, everything. It makes
Seungmin uncomfortable.
Then Chan gets up off his bed and holds out his hand to help Seungmin up.
“Come with me,” he says. “I think you’re ready for this now.”
Seungmin starts to get flashbacks as he sits in the passenger seat of Chan’s car. Chan keeps
the radio on low, music playing as he drives through the city and out of it just as Sungcheol
had done. As the city lights begin to fade and the darkness outside the city appears outside his
window, Seungmin begins to fidget restlessly.
“How far?” he asks.
Chan, as if sensing his discomfort, smiles. “Not far,” he promises.
They’re driving down a long stretch of mostly empty road. Keeping his eyes on the road,
Chan reaches one arm to the back seats and Seungmin blinks at him, watching as Chan
blindly fumbles around the back in search of something.
He then brings up a gun and Seungmin’s eyes widen as Chan hands it to him.
“Wh…wha…”
“For you,” Chan tells him as he puts both hands back on the wheel. “I know you’re feeling
nervous - especially given what happened last time - might make you feel better if you’re
holding a weapon. That way if I fuck you over, you can just shoot me.”
Seungmin shivers, the gun is heavier than he thought it would be in his hands. It feels wrong
to hold it and yet at the same time he knows he feels safer for it.
“I um…” he swallows. “I don’t like guns.”
“Neither,” Chan sighs. “But my asshole of a father insisted I learn how to use one. If you’d
prefer, I can give you a bat instead.”
“You’re not afraid I’ll accidentally hurt you?”
Chan takes his eyes off the road for a moment to look at Seungmin. A smile pulls at his lips
before he turns back to the road and shrugs.
“No, you got this.”
Seungmin swallows and holds the gun steady. Chan has more faith in him than he does in
himself.
The drive is not as far as it was last time. It takes about one hour to get to their destination.
Seungmin looks around at the rural area, sparse houses separated by acres of land and he
frowns as he hops out of the car with Chan.
They’ve parked right outside a small house that looks like it’s seconds away from falling
apart. In the darkness, Seungmin can make out the peeled paint job, broken windows and the
cracks in the veranda as Chan leads him up the steps to the front door.
Seungmin starts to shake, his grip on the handle of the gun quivers and he turns to look at
Chan.
“I’m not sure what’s scaring me more,” he confesses in a whisper. “The fact that this feels
like last time or the fact that I’m holding a gun.”
“I can give you a crowbar if you’d like?”
Seungmin shivers, he knows this comes down to blind trust but given that he was almost
killed last time, he’s almost fresh out of that. Chan holds his arm out, stopping Seungmin
from getting too close to the door.
“Do you trust me?”
“....no.”
“Good,” Chan grins. “Can I borrow that gun?”
Good god, is he going to shoot him in the head and bury him out here in the middle of
nowhere? Seungmin swallows hard but he slowly hands Chan the gun.
Chan then moves very fast. He rears himself back and kicks the door down so hard it actually
completely breaks off its hinges and falls to the dusty floor with a crash. Seungmin jumps
back, hiding behind Chan as Chan then walks in, finds the person he’s looking for and
laughs.
“Don’t run!” he giggles, gleeful as Seungmin hears something crash inside. “Poor baby, were
you taking a nap?”
Seungmin, confused, walks inside the house to find the stinking area a mess of crushed beer
cans, pizza boxes and rubbish strewn all about the floor. Sprawled on the floor in fright,
having obviously been asleep on the couch, is the man who destroyed Seungmin’s life.
He’d almost forgotten what he looked like but there he is. A year of hiding out, possibly with
the help of friends, with only beer and whatever food he could get had made him fatter but
it’s still him. Same dark eyes, same greying hair, same face Seungmin saw every time he
imagined what kind of terror his mother endured.
“Shall I shoot him in the leg for you?” Chan offers, his gun pointed at the man already. “We
can tie him to a chair and you can figure out what you wanna do with him then.”
Seungmin narrows his eyes. The man is terrified, his wide eyes staring up at both Chan and
Seungmin with terror he doesn’t deserve to have. Not after what he’d done, how much terror
he’d caused Seungmin’s mother.
“Let’s tie him to a chair first,” Seungmin suggests. “If he tries to run, shoot him in the
kneecaps.”
The man surprisingly doesn’t put up much of a fight despite being scared out of his mind. He
stands at gunpoint and sits down on one of the kitchen chairs. Seungmin finds some rope out
the back and uses it to tie him down to the chair.
“Do you remember me?” he asks the man as he stands back and looks him in the eye. “Do
you?”
The man shakes his head and Seungmin huffs. It makes sense he doesn’t remember him. It
was Seungmin’s mother he’d been mainly concerned with, Seungmin he hadn’t bothered with
except to leave snide little comments every now and then about Seungmin’s sexuality.
“I’ll get some tools,” Chan says, handing Seungmin the gun before he heads outside.
Seungmin glares. Now that he’s face to face with this man, he can feel all that hatred coming
back to him. The pain, the torture he’d felt since the day he realised his mother was being
beaten to the day he lost his mother, he’s feeling it all at once. One year had been enough to
tuck it away to the back of his mind but it’s all coming out now and it’s almost
overwhelming.
He never thought he could hate someone this much but he does. With every single iota of his
body.
“You killed my mother,” he reminds the man as he points the gun at his head. “You tortured
her, you beat her, you made her too scared to even leave the fucking house, you fucking
animal!”
He sees the man’s eyes widen in sudden realisation.
“I…I…”
“She deserved so much better than you,” Seungmin hisses.
“It was…an accident-”
“Don’t fucking sell me that bullshit!” Seungmin screams. “You fucking killed her! You threw
her against the wall!”
“I didn’t mean for her to-”
“You beat her for months! You bruised her! You cut her! You took your anger out on her
every day and night and I begged her to leave you but she was too fucking scared!”
“I was drunk-”
Seungmin doesn’t know how to shoot a gun so he uses the heavy part of the handle to smack
it down on the man’s face. He hears something crack and watches the satisfying flow of
blood from his broken nose as he whimpers and shakes in his chair.
Chan comes back in, he heads to the table and sets down a knife and a crowbar. Seungmin
glances at it and he’s too angry to consider not hurting this man. He’s still too raw and too
broken to realise what it is he’s about to do.
All he knows is that the man in front of him killed his mother.
“You,” he begins, his voice surprisingly unsteady and wobbly as he points the gun at his
stepfather. “You killed her. I loved my mother and you killed her. For over a year now it’s
been all I can think about, all I dream about. It’s my nightmares and my memories, it’s all I
see so tell me something different. Tell me why you did it. Tell me what she even saw in a
shitstain like you.”
The man stares at him, he’s shaking, he’s terrified, he’s nothing like the drunk asshole who
used his strength and anger to beat his mother down into submission. This man used to lord
over the house like he owned it despite never having a job, he used to scream at Seungmin’s
mother if she didn’t clean something right, didn’t cook something right or buy him the right
alcohol and cigarettes. He used to go out for hours on end and coming back reeking of piss
and liquor.
For the life of him, Seungmin just couldn’t understand why his mother ever married him or
stayed with him.
“It was an accident,” his stepfather says quietly. “I didn’t mean to…we just got into another
fight and I saw red and I…”
Seungmin sniffs. There is no acceptable reason for killing his mother, he knows this. He’s not
sure what kind of closure he’s looking for, if he’ll ever get one from knowing exactly why.
The truth is that this man is a drunk, he’s a loser, he took his misery and his hate out on his
mother and she died because of it. One push too hard, one night he went overboard and
boom…maybe he didn’t mean to kill her but that doesn’t change a thing.
Seungmin doesn’t even realise he’s crying. That there are tears already streaming down his
face. He just hands Chan the gun, grabs the knife and without a second of hesitation, he stabs
his stepfather in the chest.
It’s like he’s not even there. Like he’s not even in control of himself. His hand grips the
handle of the knife tightly and he’s not even aware of the man staring at him as he rips the
knife out and stabs again and again and again. Warm blood flicks out onto his face, he can
taste the tang of iron on his tongue but like a machine he keeps stabbing. As if each stab will
rid him of his memories, his trauma and give him his mother back.
When it’s finally over, when he’s finally aware of what he’s done, the man is long dead.
Bleeding from so many holes in his chest, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth as his
eyes stare ahead.
Seungmin’s stomach clenches and he rips himself away to throw up in the corner of the
room.
He’s shaking, he feels physically ill and something inside of himself dies that night.
His mother really wouldn’t recognise him at all.
He looks up in time to see Chan putting his phone away - had he been recording? Seungmin’s
thoughts fly all over the place as he realises what this is, what he’d just done and what Chan
had witnessed. All at once a horrifying truth becomes crystal clear as he stares up at Chan.
He belongs to him now. Chan made sure of it.
“Come on,” Chan says as he leans down to help Seungmin up onto his feet. “Job done. One
less monster in the world.”
Seungmin doesn’t know what to think. He spits out the last of bile onto the floor and
grimaces.
“Let’s torch the place and leave,” Chan suggests. “Have you ever thought of living in Busan?
I can set you up with a nice apartment and a job.”
Seungmin’s not even sure he has a choice. What else is he going to do? Especially since Chan
has footage of him committing murder.
“I’ve…lived in Busan before.”
“Excellent!” Chan beams. “Then it’ll be like coming home!”
Seungmin feels ill again and he slowly nods. What else can he do? At least Chan is offering
somewhere to stay. It kind of takes the sting out of the blackmail part, at least a little.
Chan rubs his shoulder and smiles. “Let’s go home.”
Home. Busan. Seungmin shivers.
Where Hyunjin is, where Minho is. He looks at Chan and feels like his entire life is in Chan’s
hands. All he can do is hope the other won’t fuck him over - but even if he does, what can he
do?
Slowly he nods and Chan smiles.
“It’ll be okay, Seungmin,” he tells him. “I promise.”
Chan keeps his word. He arranges everything. He takes Seungmin back to Busan, sets him up
in a nice apartment (and it is nice, it has a view of the ocean and plenty of space) he hooks
him up with a job in his restaurant when Seungmin admits he can cook.
On the first day, Seungmin walks in through the back door of God’s Menu. He’s dressed in
his uniform and ignoring the anxious knots in his stomach and when he looks up, the first
thing he sees on the other side of the kitchen is Minho. His Minho. Beautiful as he
remembered and standing there dressed in the same uniform.
“Seungie?” Minho breathes, his eyes wide in disbelief.
Seungmin blinks, he barely gets a second of warning before Minho rushes across the kitchen
and throws his arms around Seungmin. All of a sudden he’s there, his scent invades
Seungmin’s senses, his arms are tight around him and Seungmin gasps as he wraps his arms
around Minho in turn.
“I heard what happened,” Minho says, his face still tucked into Seungmin’s shoulder as he
squeezes him tight. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Seungmin doesn’t know what he’s sorry about, what he’s heard. Did Minho just hear that
Seungmin’s mother had died or does he know the rest of it? Does he know that Seungmin
was sold off to human trafficking? Does he know what Seungmin had been saved by Chan
and went on to murder someone for the first time in his life?
He doesn’t ask. He just waits for Minho to pull back from the hug. Minho takes Seungmin’s
face in his hands and leans up to press a kiss to his forehead.
“It’s going to be okay now,” he promises.
Seungmin wants to believe him.
When Hyunjin first steps into God’s Menu, Seungmin is sure the fates are fucking with him.
Minho was one thing (and finding out that Minho is in a very committed and loving
relationship with Han Jisung was kind of like a punch to the gut) but Hyunjin is completely
different.
Of course, maybe Seungmin should have seen it coming. What happened to Hyunjin made
international news after all and Seungmin knew all about it. He followed the news articles
religiously, scoffed when the focus became all about how beautiful Hyunjin is.
Of-fucking-course they focussed on that and less on the fact that he’d murdered his own
father.
He knew Chan had disappeared for a bit and maybe he should have figured that Chan would
go after someone like Hyunjin. After all, now Seungmin knows what happens in the freezers,
it makes sense.
But when Hyunjin steps into the restaurant, Seungmin feels the fates laughing at him. First
Minho, now Hyunjin, they both step back into his life. In this restaurant that kills people and
feeds them to customers. It’s like a sick joke.
“Seungmin,” Hyunjin greets as if he’s not surprised to see him too. “Long time no see.”
His eyes are just as black as they were whenever he’d get angry. Seungmin can’t see any
softness leftover and it makes him sad. But he’s also not entirely surprised, Hyunjin’s father
must have killed off whatever innocence and softness Hyunjin had left.
“Hello, Hyunjin,” he says, his tone gives away that he’s resigned to this fate. He’s tired and
he’s stuck here.
Hyunjin walks past him and into the main area where he is to work. Seungmin watches him
go and if he had any life left in him, perhaps he’d feel more. But he doesn’t and as
unbelievable as it is that these people are back in his life again, he kind of takes it in stride. In
a weird kind of way, it sort of even makes sense.
-
Seungmin finds out about Chan’s condition first. He’s the first one to know. Well before
Minho, Jeongin or any of the others find out, Seungmin finds out about it when he walks into
Chan’s office one morning and finds him unconscious on the floor.
No one else is in, it’s the weekend and so Seungmin calls for the ambulance. He’s with Chan
when he’s taken to the hospital, he’s with him when he wakes up and maybe Chan didn’t
want it to happen this way, but he’s there when the doctors tell Chan that the brain scans he’d
taken weeks ago had come back with an undeniable prognosis.
“How long do I have?” Chan asks.
The doctor winces behind his mask.
“We don’t like to predict that,” he admits. “It often turns into a self fulfilling prophecy. It
could be months, could be years…with treatment-”
“I’m not getting treatment,” Chan cuts in and Seungmin looks at him with wide eyes.
The doctor looks confused. “Sir…at the rate your tumour is going, I highly recommend you
undergo treatment. If you’re nervous about radiotherapy-”
“I’m not nervous about anything, I’m not going through treatment,” Chan tells him, a little
firmer now. “I have shit to do and if I start getting sick and losing my hair, it’ll seriously fuck
with my plans. I’m not doing it.”
“Hyung,” Seungmin frowns. “You’re going to get sick anyway. You’re dying.”
“I’ll do this my way,” Chan tells the doctor. “Just get me dressed and discharge me. You can’t
keep me here.”
Seungmin doesn’t understand. But Chan is right, the doctors can’t keep him if he refuses
treatment. They discharge him that afternoon and when Seungmin sits in the car with Chan,
he watches him worriedly.
Somehow, over the time he’d gotten to know him, he’d come to care for him. The realisation
comes as a shock to Seungmin but there it is, he cares that Chan is dying.
“Hyung…” he starts, quiet and uncertain.
Chan doesn’t answer. His eyes are a million miles away, he’s staring out the window and
thinking hard, his hand tapping against his knee restlessly. He looks like he has the weight of
the world on his shoulders and Seungmin feels for him, he really does. Over the past year
he’s come to realise that Chan really does take everything on.
He doesn’t know the full extent of it, not yet, but he’s starting to understand what Chan is
about and it’s not at all what he initially thought it was.
“Seungmin,” Chan says after a moment. “Can you promise me you won’t tell anyone else
about this?”
Seungmin jumps when Chan meets his eyes, he’s never looked so serious before.
“Please?”
It’s not an order or a command. It’s not even really a gentle question, it’s a plea.
He nods and meets Chan’s eyes honestly.
“I promise.”
Chan lets out a shaky breath and turns his gaze back out the window.
Three months later, Jeongin arrives at God’s Menu.
Seungmin slides open the thin wooden door to the bathroom and jumps over Doongie, who is
inconveniently sprawled out on the tile floors right in front of the door. He stifles a yawn into
his arm as he wanders past the bathroom sink and heads for the toilet.
“One of these days, you’re gonna break my neck, Doongie,” he mutters to the cat who merely
yawns and stretches as if to say ‘yes, so what?’
The distant sound of the waves crashing against the shore serve as almost a quiet reminder of
where he is and as the morning golden rays stream in through his open space living room,
Seungmin showers, brushes his teeth and washes his face before heading back out into the
kitchen.
Onyx and Soonie are busy playfighting in the living room whilst Honey, perched on the end
of the couch, seems to be watching them as if to see who will come out victorious. Dori purrs
and rubs against Seungmin’s legs as he makes his way to the pantry to get out the pet food.
Always feed them first. He’d learnt that lesson the hard way when he tried to eat dinner by
himself once and all four cats had tried to steal it from him.
Minho had spoiled them.
He places his phone on the bench and calls the first number on his contact list. He puts it on
speakerphone as he yawns and picks up the cat biscuits first so he can pour them into the
bowls.
The call connects and a tired voice sounds on the other end.
“Fucks sake, Seungie,” Hyunjin yawns. “I know it might be 8am for you in Honolulu, but it’s
3am in Korea. The fuck is wrong with you?!”
“I have serious anxiety, I suffer from night terrors, I have mild depression and post traumatic
stress disorder, should I continue?” Seungmin shoots back with a smirk as he fills the bowls
and moves onto grab the dog food. “How are you?”
“Sleeping.”
“How’s Innie?”
“Sleeping. And if you wake him up, I’m gonna fucking kick your ass.”
“Ooh,” Seungmin laughs. “What are you gonna do? Take the nearest plane to Hawaii and
kick my ass?”
“Yes.”
Seungmin laughs, he knows Hyunjin doesn’t mean it. It’s not like Hyunjin is in any position
to leave the country anyway. Gang leader he might be, he’s done an admirable job of
controlling Wolgang Pa.
He’d abolished their human trafficking division, he’d gotten rid of the worst parts of the gang
and those he kept, he kept under his thumb at all times. Hyunjin showed them exactly what
they wanted to see in a leader and in return, they showed him their loyalty. So long as they
made money, lived comfortable lives and had some modicum of power in Busan, they had
nothing to complain about and he knew that.
It’s a job even Chan couldn’t have predicted Hyunjin would actually be good at but he is.
With an iron fist, he’d kept Wolgang Pa under his control.
Seungmin hears something quiet in the background.
“It’s just Seungmin, Innie, go back to sleep,” Hyunjin mutters.
Seungmin hears another noise, then the shuffle of the phone being transferred before
Jeongin’s voice sounds on the other end.
“Hi Seungmin.”
“Hi Innie,” Seungmin grins. “Sorry to wake you. I only called to annoy Hyunjin.”
Jeongin giggles and Seungmin puts the pet food away. He washes his hands and starts to
think about his own breakfast as he turns to his phone.
“You doing okay? Hyunjin treating you alright?”
“We’re fine,” Jeongin assures him.
Seungmin thinks he can hear something faint in the background and narrows his eyes. He
wouldn’t put it past Hyunjin to try fucking Jeongin mid-phone call just to gross Seungmin
out.
“I miss you,” Jeongin tells him. “I miss everyone.”
Seungmin glances to his wall. He’d kept a picture there ever since he moved in. A framed
photo of them all the last time they were here in Honolulu, one of the rare group photos
they’d taken in front of the beach. Jisung is there, halfway through lifting Minho who is mid-
laugh with his legs dangling mid-air. Hyunjin has his arms around Jeongin and his face
pressed into his neck as Jeongin grins at the camera. Felix is hanging off Chan’s shoulders
and Changbin has his arm around Seungmin’s shoulders.
They’d all looked happier then. It’s half the reason Seungmin decided to come back here to
live. It felt like they were free here and to an extent, he feels it too. It’s what his mother
would have wanted for him too. To be safe and content…it had taken over a year of intensive
therapy and Chan’s massive fortune he’d left to him to accomplish it but somehow, Seungmin
had found peace.
It’s all he could ask for.
Sometimes Seungmin felt like he carried them with himself. Chan, Minho and Hyunjin, the
three people who’d shaken the foundations of his world at one point or another. The scars
they left on him were ones he felt every day and he was somehow okay with this.
“Will you come back to visit?” Jeongin asks and Seungmin can definitely hear the sound of
Hyunjin kissing Jeongin’s neck. If he doesn’t end the call soon, he’s going to hear something
he’d really rather not.
“One day,” he promises as Honey comes up to sit next to his leg. “Send Hyunjin my love.
Tell him I’ll call again tomorrow, this time at 2am.”
“You’re an asshole, Seungie,” Hyunjin says, his voice a little distant as he’s obviously
preoccupied with making Jeongin squirm.
Seungmin just grins. “Miss you too.”
He ends the call before Hyunjin can get too daring with his stunt with Jeongin. Seungmin
looks over at the wide open windows, the sight of his white curtains billowing with the
morning breeze and the sight of the ocean just ahead of him. He can hear the crash of the
waves, the sound of the birds and if he closes his eyes, he can remember being there on the
beach with all of them.
Hyunjin and Jeongin were in the water - a rare time Jeongin had managed to drag Hyunjin in.
Chan and Felix were in the water too, playing some splashing game and ganging up on
Jisung and Changbin. Seungmin had stayed out on the sand to watch them when Minho came
to sit next to him.
“Penny for your thoughts?”

Seungmin huffed. “You’re gonna need a lot more than a penny. Try a black card.”
Minho’s smile was as bright as the golden afternoon glow. He’d settled in the sand, dug his
toes in and simply joined him in watching the others. After a moment, Seungmin decided to
talk after all.
“I was just thinking…wondering really…how long this peace will last,” he admitted. Minho
turned to look at him as he kept his eyes on the scene in front of him. “This…right here. All
of us together and playing around like this. I wish it could last.”
Maybe Minho didn’t understand what he meant. It’s likely he really didn’t because by that
point, Seungmin already knew Chan was dying - Minho had no idea. But Minho looked out
to the sea, watched the others playing and he nodded.
“Do you remember that time we rented out a hotel room, got drunk and watched Coraline?”
Seungmin glanced at him and nodded. He remembered that, of course he remembered that.
He remembered every moment he had with Minho.
“Do you remember what I used to keep telling you whenever things got a little hard or when
you needed the reminder that life has to carry on?”
It had been one of Minho’s favourite quotes from the movie. The moment when the ghost
children surrounded the main character to remind her that she’d survived where they hadn’t.
Minho used to do it to Seungmin as a joke but over time, the words stuck to him. Life
couldn’t stay still in one memory, no matter how nice. But to move on, he sometimes needed
the reminder that he couldn’t stay still.
Minho leaned into his side and patted his leg.
“Thou art alive,” he hummed. “Thou art still living.”
In the present day, Honey jumps and leaps happily through the waves. She’s off her leash and
happy to bounce around in the water during her morning walk. Seungmin watches her, his
feet sinking in the sand and inside his chest he feels peace instead of anxiety or pain.
He can imagine Minho leaning into one side of him, Hyunjin on the other and it’s what he
has to do to keep his sanity. Take them with him, the memory of them. One step at a time,
one day at a time, he’ll heal so long as they’re with him.
The wind rustles his hair and he takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes, Honey is
bouncing towards him, a stick in her mouth and the happiest jump to her paws. He smiles and
leans down to take the stick from her and throw it towards the shore.
“Thou art alive,” Minho had told him. “Thou art still living.”
Chapter End Notes
I wrote this MONTHS ago and literally completely forgot about it. It wasn't until I was
writing the other extra that I stumbled across this and thought 'oh! :)....OH :0'
It's a little sad on poor Seungminnie's end. I find his character to be probably one of the
most tragic ones. Unlike Chan and Jisung, he has to continue living in the full
knowledge that Minho is dead and gone and he's struggling with that more than he
thought he would. But he's also just trying to take things day by day and he's living
away from the source of his trauma and in the place he found some happiness and peace.
Maybe one day he'll go back to South Korea, visit Innie and Hyunjin and let them (okay,
Innie, Hyunjin doesn't do the emotional thing) hug him and comfort him and try to make
it better.
Also I will and will not confirm or deny that whilst writing this chapter I got insanely
😐😐😐
depressed, wrapped myself in several blankets, ate popcorn and spent three days
watching Coraline, Encanto and Finding Nemo over and over.
One more to go! Felix's chapter is coming soon :)

EXTRA XXXIV: Sub Rosa
Chapter Notes
SPOTIFY
PINTEREST
MEMES
ARTWORK
TIKTOK: 1 | 2
The news hits them both not long after their flight touches the ground in Sydney, Australia.
Felix had spent the entire night in first class, cuddled into Changbin’s side. They’d held each
other, they’d cried and the flight attendants eventually knew to just leave them alone.
Occasionally Felix would ask them for something but for the most part, neither of them really
wanted anything other than water.
The hot air hits them the second they step off the plane. Felix’s hand slips into Changbin’s
hold, the tip of his nose red, his eyes heavy from crying and Changbin’s no different. They
mill into the airport with the rest of the weary crowd and it’s not until after they get through
luggage claims and customs that Felix is finally able to access the internet.
The very first story on the front pages is about the fall of Prime Minister Bang, the scandal of
his involvement in a series of cannibalistic murders and the irrefutible truth that is now
circling the internet everywhere.
Felix rubs at his face and reads on, the media details everything from the restaurant to the
people who were served as food there. The only thing it doesn’t mention is who was working
in the restaurant and right away, Felix knows that was deliberate. Chan would have ensured
it, paid off the right people to make sure they’ll never go looking for the staff.
It goes on about how the orders came straight from the top and then it mentions Bang Chan.
Bang Chan, who was found dead just a few hours ago.
Felix almost drops his phone. He feels a sudden shot of pain through his chest and he gasps
so loudly that Changbin looks at him in concern.
“Babe?” he frowns. “What-?”
Felix can’t breathe, he can’t see anything. Tears are filling his eyes and he’s struggling to
inhale so much his lungs burn for lack of air. He hands Changbin his phone and stumbles
outside through the automatic sliding doors and into the scorching hot air.
There, in the middle of a thinning crowd of people heading out with luggages trying to find
busses and taxi’s, Felix takes in a deep breath and screams. He falls to his hands and knees,
the hard gravel unforgiving on his hands as he screams into the ground and cries. All around
him, concerned people are staring and some are coming up to him to ask him if he’s alright
but for the life of him he can’t register any of them.
Chan’s dead. Chan is dead. Chan is dead.
Knowing he was dying for weeks prior doesn’t lessen the blow of it at all. Felix cries hard,
wailing without restraint until Changbin’s figure appears in front of him. Changbin drops to
his knees in front of Felix and picks him up, he holds him close and Felix clings to him.
It’s such a hot day but Felix is freezing. They’re both shivering, both crying into each other’s
shoulders and although some people remain, some disperse after seeing there’s nothing they
can do to help.
Eventually Changbin forces them to move. They find a taxi and head for their hotel. Felix’s
hand is encased in Changbin’s, both of them drawing strength from each other as their minds
mull over what just happened. They move, tearful and stunned to their hotel and at
Changbin’s suggestion, Felix has a shower first.
He cries more under the spray of the water. Felix leans against the tile wall and lets the water
cascade down his back as he sobs. He cries for Chan, for Minho, for Jisung and for Jeongin.
He cries for Seungmin and even for Hyunjin, he misses and needs them all.
He comes out, drained and dressed in a white dressing gown. His hair is still slightly damp as
he moves into the suite and finds Changbin sitting on the end of the bed, perusing the internet
with his phone and a confused look on his face.
“What’s up?”
Changbin looks up from his phone and rubs at his eyes. “I uh…I was just reading the
reports,” he confesses as Felix comes to sit next to him. “They keep saying Chan died of an
overdose. A suspected suicide and…”
His eyebrows fix in a frown again and Felix sniffs.
“And?”
“It just…” Changbin shakes his head. “It just doesn’t sound like him.”
“You don’t think he’s capable of killing himself?”
“It’s not that, I just don’t think he’d do that,” Changbin replies as he puts his phone down. “I
mean, I know he used to…you know…self harm when he was like fifteen but he was
different then. The guy he is now…he wouldn’t….he wouldn’t do that. He’s not-”
“Weak?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re thinking it.”
“No, babe, I’m not,” Changbin turns on the bed to face Felix. “I’m not. I just…Chan
wouldn’t do that. Chan wouldn’t leave you and he wouldn’t leave me.”
Felix stares into the dark abyss of Changbin’s eyes and is distantly reminded that Changbin
and Jisung never found out that Chan was sick. A tear slips out of his eye as he sniffs and
looks down at his lap.
“What if…?” Changbin continues hesitantly. “What if…this is what Chan wants the media to
think? What if he’s faking his death and this was just one of his plans-”
“Bin, stop it.”

“No, I’m serious! Chan would do that, he’s making plans all the time-”
“Bin-”
“To throw them off the scent! He could go into hiding and-and then-”
“Bin, stop it!” Felix shrieks, cutting Changbin’s almost desperate reasoning off. Tears are still
quietly streaming down his cheeks as he looks at Changbin’s face and shakes his head. “Stop
it.”
Changbin looks lost, he takes Felix’s hand and looks him in the eye.
“He wouldn’t have left,” he tells Felix. “Not after everything…he wouldn’t have…he can’t
have…”
Felix can’t handle this. With everything that happened over the last week and the pain of
Chan’s death still aching, he can’t handle telling Changbin the truth. He can’t handle seeing
the pain in Changbin’s eyes as he desperately tries to deny the idea that Chan would have left
him here alone after they’d both lost Jisung and Minho.
After all, it wasn’t just Chan who hurt from their death. Felix knows Chan was aware of that.
And yet the truth? The real reason why he would have killed himself? It wasn’t to get away
from the media or the news. It wasn’t to save himself from the punishment that would have
otherwise come down hard on him. It was because Chan had a choice between dying of his
illness and dying of his own hand.
True to himself, he chose to control his death.
“He revealed everything,” Changbin says, his eyes turning back to his phone. “Everything
but us. He protected us and burnt himself and his father. But that doesn’t mean his death is-”
“Bin.”
Changbin stops, clearly sensing the tired tone in Felix’s voice. He looks at Felix again and
without a word, they both put the subject aside.
Whatever they believe, it doesn’t change the fact that they’re both in Australia now and they
can’t help Chan anymore.
“I’ll go shower,” Changbin mumbles and Felix knows he should say something. He should
comfort him, he should go along with his denial - even for just a moment.
But as Changbin gets up and shuffles off to the bathroom, Felix can’t think of anything to say.
He listens to the sound of the shower and pulls his phone out. As he predicts, he spots a few
new messages from his sisters coming in and pauses for a moment when the water stops. But
when it runs again, he taps the call button and waits for his sister to answer.
“Felix? Are you back?”
“Yeah,” he sighs heavily. “I just got in.”
“Are you okay?”
He knows her tone. That careful, cautious tone of hers gives her away. She’s seen the news
and of course she’s worried about him.
“I’m fine.”
“Lix…I know this must have been hard on you. Despite everything…it’s only natural that
you got attached to them. We don’t hate you for it.”
“I’m okay, I promise,” Felix replies as he wipes a stray tear from his eye. “You don’t have to
worry about me. I knew the risk when I left, I’ll get over this.”
“Will you?” she asks and he hates her sceptic tone. “Look, it’s been nearly four years since
you left us to do this. We knew from the start that this wasn’t going to be easy. You’re only
human and even though you knew what they were…that wouldn’t have stopped you from-”
“I’m fine,” Felix cuts in, a little sharper than he means to. “I haven’t forgotten.”
“You’re not a robot, Felix. You’re as human as the rest of us and if either one of us had gone
in your place, we wouldn’t have fared any better. You may have fooled them but you don’t
fool me.”
“I haven’t forgotten anything,” Felix snaps, now a little more pissed off. “I haven’t forgiven
either.”
There’s silence on the other end for a few moments and Felix is distantly aware of the shower
water finally turning off. He needs to end this call soon.
“We haven’t forgotten,” his sister tells him. “But Felix, you still have a family here. Come
home. Let’s move on, she would have wanted it that way.”
Felix ends the call and looks up when he hears the bathroom door open. He’s still shaking a
little when he puts his phone away and watches Changbin wander into the room dressed in
sweatpants and a grey sleeveless top.
At the sight of him, Felix feels something inside himself melt and he hates himself for it.
Changbin’s mere presence makes it hard for him to think sometimes, makes it hard to
breathe. It was never planned that he’d be attracted to Changbin and it wasn’t planned to fall
for him either, of all of Felix’s plans - Changbin had completely blindsided him.
“You alright?” Changbin asks.

Felix shakes his head and makes room for Changbin to sit next to him on the end of the bed.
There’s a weariness to them both, a slump in their shoulders, a distant sadness to both of
them and neither try to shake it off. It just is. It’s there and both know why without having to
explain it to the other.
There’s a small comfort in that.
“I miss them,” Changbin says after a moment. “I just wish I could wake up to a boring day…
you know? I’d get up and go to the restaurant and just…there they’d all be. Han and Minho
in the main room, making any excuse to smile at each other or brush each other as they pass.
Chan would be in his office carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders…you’d be in
the kitchen with Jeongin and Seungmin and Hyunjin…” he pauses and shakes his head with a
bitter chuckle. “Fuck. I even miss that psychotic bastard. I just want one day to go back there
and appreciate them more….appreciate the time I had them right there and I took them for
granted.”
Felix shivers. He’s heard this kind of talk before. His sister said something similar before
he’d left and he’d always remembered it because he felt the same.
“Here’s the thing about those days though,” he confesses quietly as Changbin turns to look at
him. “Days like that…where everything is quiet and normal and we were all just…there…
they’re beautiful because at the time, you’re allowed to take it for granted.”
He meets Changbin’s watery eyes and reaches over to hold his hand.
“Even if you could go back and tell them all how much you loved them…it wouldn’t have
changed anything. We’re always going to wish we could have done more, said more, told
them how much we loved them but in the end they knew. The only thing you can do is
appreciate that you had that time with them, that you had the luxury of taking it for granted
that they’d always be there. You can’t go on regretting what you didn’t do or wishing you had
more time. All you can do is honour them and carry on.”
Changbin doesn’t say anything and Felix stares at his lap. His step-father had told him the
same thing all those years ago and he’d held onto the speech word for word.
Perhaps he’d done that to appeal to the boy he’d raised as his own son. Perhaps he’d tried to
appeal to Felix’s humane side and stop his plans but it hadn’t worked. Felix had still left.
Changbin’s hand on his cheek turns his face and Felix looks up to see the other leaning in.
Like a magnet, he leans in and meets Changbin halfway for a kiss. It’s slow, soft at first,
gentle appreciation that they still have each other. But Felix feels a lurch in his gut as he
reaches his hands up and grabs Changbin’s arms, his head tilting to deepen the kiss
feverishly.
Felix doesn’t want to think. He doesn’t want to do anything other than feel. Changbin’s arm
winds around his waist, pulling him close and Felix climbs up onto Changbin’s lap. His arms
loop around Changbin’s shoulders, legs naturally wrapping around Changbin as well as he
deepens the kiss more and cards his fingers through Changbin’s hair.
Hitched sighs, little moans are lost into each others mouths and Felix loves the way Changbin
grips him. The way his hands clench tight over Felix’s waist, holding him closer, pulling him
in almost forcefully. As if nothing in the world could have torn Felix from Changbin’s arms.
Changbin had been a quick study. Found out fast what really worked for Felix and he made
sure to drive Felix mad with it every single time.
“Wait, wait, Lix,” Changbin pants, he has to lean his head back because Felix keeps chasing
his lips every time he tries to stop. “Wait, baby.”
Felix whines, he tightens his arms around Changbin but he does let up so the other can talk.
“Maybe we should just sleep,” Changbin suggests, his hand sliding up and down Felix’s
back.
Felix frowns. “You don’t want to?”
“I do! I always want to,” Changbin says, his cheeks burning a little pink as he does it. “I
just…we’re both really tired from the flight and really upset. It’s been a long week and
maybe…maybe you’ll feel better after some sleep.”
“Tired and upset is a really good reason to do this,” Felix points out. “Plus, I don’t need sleep
right now, Bin. I need you, I really need you.”
Those words seem to strike hard. Felix sees Changbin’s eyes grow wide, they soften with
emotion and his hands seem to hold Felix a little closer in response. This time when Felix
initiates a kiss, Changbin doesn’t lean back. He doesn’t try to stop, instead he kisses Felix
with just as much intensity, just as much need.
And Felix wasn’t lying, he does need him. He’s never needed him so much before. His
fingers cling, his lips push hard enough to bruise and he moans as he slips a hand down
Changbin’s chest to feel muscles concealed underneath his clothes. His hands almost shake as
he reaches them both down and grabs the hem of Changbin’s top so he can yank it up and
over Changbin’s head.
Changbin throws the shirt away and grabs Felix, throwing him further up onto the bed. They
meet in another feverish kiss and Felix wills his mind to shut down. Just shut down and enjoy
every touch, every kiss. The feeling of the cold air on his skin when Changbin pulls at his
robe and pulls it off Felix with almost mad desperation.
Don’t think about Chan. Don’t think about his sisters. Don’t think about Innie, don’t think
about anything but this.
Despite their extremely inexperienced and embarrassing start to the intricacies of sex,
Changbin has proven himself a rather attentive lover. Not that Felix really has a wealth of
experience to draw from - save a night of fooling around with a guy who turned out to be his
half-brother. But Changbin has always been a lot more concerned with Felix enjoying the
experience rather than himself.
Felix remembers awkwardly asking Chan if that was normal, if he should be more worried
about making sure Changbin enjoys the experience too. Chan had looked extremely
uncomfortable but he’d somehow managed to clear his throat and say: “Bin’s a giver…so it
kind of makes sense he’s like that in bed too. It’s just the way he is, if you want to do more for
him then you can but I think he gets just as much satisfaction out of it by making sure you’re
enjoying it - can we stop talking about you two having sex now? It’s literally making me ill.”
“Are you okay?” Changbin asks, as Felix knew he would eventually. “Lix…”
“I’m fine,” Felix assures him with a breathless smile as his grabby hands pull Changbin
closer. “I need you.”
Those seem to be the magic words. Changbin kisses and leaves marks on Felix’s neck, he
trails his lips down Felix’s chest and Felix has to focus on his breathing. He wants to touch,
he wants to give back. He wants to reciprocate everything in kind but he can’t get himself to
move, all he can do is feel Changbin’s hands and lips, listen to his own breathing hitch and
whine with every kiss and bite.
But every time he closes his eyes, he can see it. Like a house of cards, God’s Menu and
almost everyone inside had fallen to pieces. In a matter of one week, they’d lost almost
everything. Felix can see the kitchen behind his eyelids, the freezer, the distant quiet sound of
the speakers in the main room as Hyunjin, Minho and Jisung dealt with customers. He can
see Chan and Changbin occasionally coming in when they don’t have work elsewhere, he can
see Jeongin and Seungmin working at their benches and his heart clenches.
So he clings to Changbin, he kisses him hard, he touches him, he rolls them over until
Changbin’s on his back. He only catches Changbin’s frightened and concerned eyes seconds
before he slams himself down on the other with no protection and very little preparation.
“Lix!” Changbin gasps, his hands holding Felix’s waist still to prevent the other from hurting
himself. “I…you…you weren’t ready, are you okay?”
Felix tilts his head back and…feels. That hurt. It actually reminds him of when they first tried
to have sex. Changbin had prepared him a little but they didn’t get around to the lube bit and
it burns with the stretch but Felix had needed it. He wanted this to hurt him, just enough to
keep him here, keep him grounded. He needs sex, he needs to feel, he needs to hurt, anything
to keep him out of his memories.
“I’m fine,” he pants, his eyes fluttering as he looks down at Changbin’s face. “I’m okay,
Bin.”
“But…”
Felix moves his hips and listens to the smallest sound Changbin makes. The other is shaking
underneath him, he’s barely keeping himself under control but that’s not what Felix wants.
Felix wants to hurt, he wants to snap Changbin’s precious control in half.
“Lix…” Changbin breathes, his teeth almost clenching with how much he has to keep
himself under control. “Let me…let up…I’ve got lube in the bag, I can-”
“No,” Felix pants, his hips rolling again. He smiles at the little whine Changbin makes and
tries moving his hips again but Changbin grabs him and holds him still.
“Lix…let me-”
“I’m fine, Changbin,” Felix tells him. “I need it like this. I need it to hurt.”
“But-”
“Let me,” Felix pants, his hands perching on Changbin’s bare chest as he leans over him.
“Let me. I need to feel it, Changbin, I need it to feel good and I need it to hurt. I need you to
get me out of my head and keep me out of it. Fuck me.”
Changbin looks just as confused as he is aroused. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are wide,
for a moment it looks like he can’t decide whether to do as Felix asks or try to stop him from
this destructive path he seems to want to go down.
Maybe it’s something in Felix’s eyes, maybe Changbin needs the distraction just as much as
Felix does but whatever the reason, Changbin’s eyes darken and Felix gets about two seconds
of a warning before Changbin’s hands on his hips tighten and he moves his hips underneath
Felix to slam right into him. The effect is so jarring, so mind-numbingly good that Felix
gasps as he tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling.
After that, Felix’s mind finally shuts down. He loses track of time, he doesn’t know how long
they end up tangled in each other. Each touch is desperate and leaves marks, every bite, every
kiss seems to burn. They don’t make love, they fuck and at one point they end up on the floor
going at it like animals.
By the time their hotel is doused in the darkness of night, Felix and Changbin are exhausted.
They’re covered in bruises, in little pink bites, they’re bleeding a little from some of the
harder bites. They’d long since kicked the blankets off and are curled up on the sheets, both
of them struggling to catch their breath.
Felix curls up on Changbin. He rests his head on his shoulder and holds him close.
It’s early evening at best. Time gets a little weird when travelling internationally. Felix lets
his eyes close and he gives himself a reprieve. A moment to just enjoy the sound of
Changbin’s steady heartbeat, his breathing, his heat.
“Lix,” Changbin whispers after a moment. “I love you.”
Felix doesn’t answer and Changbin lifts his head to see the other has already fallen asleep. A
warm fondness fills him as he leans in and presses a small kiss to Felix’s forehead.
His heart hurts, he’s lost too much and as he holds Felix in his arms he vows he’ll never lose
him too.
His last thread, his last piece of sanity. To lose Felix would mean death and Changbin would
welcome it with open arms.
Over the week that follows, Chan’s death still doesn’t feel real. Not to Changbin.
As the morning rays light their hotel room beautifully, Changbin obsessively searches every
single news outlet covering the story of what happened to Chan. They go into detail about his
deeds, the bodies that went missing, the indisputable evidence that it was Chan who oversaw
the whole thing.
They go on and on about how he was found. His wife (and Changbin uses that term loosely)
found him in his bed, overdosed on sleeping pills and Changbin just refuses to believe it.
He can’t believe it.
How could Chan leave him? How could he possibly leave him now after all they’ve been
through, after they’ve just lost Jisung, Chan wouldn’t do that to him. Chan wouldn’t leave
him alone like this when he’s the only one Changbin has left, he just wouldn’t do it.
But when he tries bringing this up to Felix again, Felix just goes quiet and disappears into the
bathroom to cry. Eventually, Changbin stops bringing it up.
They spend that week slowly coping with everything. With Chan’s death, Jisung and Minho’s
deaths, the quick destruction of God’s Menu, of everything they considered their home. They
try to cope with the fact that they’d lost Jeongin, that Hyunjin was out of their reach forever
and god knows what happened to Seungmin.
Sometimes they leave the hotel to wander around the streets of Sydney. Felix introduces him
to cafes and restaurants he knows and it’s a nice distraction for a couple of hours. It’s like
they’re on holiday.
But inevitably, when they’re not surrounded by people, when it’s just them and their little
hotel room, the memories rush back so fast it chokes them both. So they cling to each other,
they kiss, they touch, they make love until they exhaust each other. Until their bodies and
minds are too tired to haunt them with the nightmares that surely await them.
Then, at last, when a small fortune from Chan lands in both Changbin and Felix’s accounts,
both of them know his will has been read and the chances of him being dead are higher than
before.
Changbin cries into Felix’s chest all night.
At the end of the week, exhausted and emotionally spent, Felix slips his hand into Changbin’s
and holds on tight. He shoots him a small, tired smile and brings their hands up so he can kiss
Changbin’s fingers.
“We have to check out today,” he tells him.
Changbin blinks at him. His eyelids still heavy from exhaustion, swollen from crying.
“Where are we going?”
Felix’s smile is tired but fond.
“Home.”
They check out of the hotel and Felix takes him to the other side of the city. The cab takes
them out of the busy chaos of the central city towards the quiet suburbs. In the back of the
taxi, Changbin watches the view just outside his window change from tall buildings and busy
people rushing about the city to the quiet and idyllic streets of suburbia.
It’s not like what he’s used to. The houses out here are larger than the city in Korea would
allow them to. Space affords large front and back yards, it grants beautiful gardens and
children playing out on the lawns.
Felix takes him to a two storey house tucked away at the end of a cul-de-sac. A beautiful
home with shining windows, a well kept front garden, a cobblestone path and the overall look
that this is a home, not just a house. It’s a home occupied by people who love each other, who
are a family, who don’t obsess over their public image and don’t hire servants and maids like
what Changbin is used to.
When the taxi stops, Changbin watches as Felix gets out first and rushes towards the house in
time to embrace a girl who runs out the door first and jumps into his arms. Changbin slowly
gets out and watches another girl running out of the house to hug Felix, followed by an older,
taller man who stops at the doorway and smiles at them.
Then his eyes, kind and warm, flick to Changbin.
“Nice to finally meet you,” he says. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
Changbin swallows hard and meets the eyes of Felix’s two sisters, one older and one
younger. Both look up curiously and for the first time in his life, Changbin feels the nerves of
one who is afraid of being judged, of being rejected by these people he’s never met but aches
for their approval.
Felix makes it easier by taking his hand and bringing him towards his sisters and his father.
“This is Changbin.”
They have the exact same warmth in their smiles as Felix does.
-
They have dinner. Real dinner, home cooked and everything and seated at the same table. It’s
such a small thing to them but it’s new to Changbin, who has never known a dinner with his
parents unless it was in a high class restaurant.
Felix’s sisters bombard them both with questions about Korea, about their time there and
Changbin catches on that Felix answers them delicately, vaguely. He doesn’t go into details
of what happened there but he does talk about Chan, he tells them about the others, about the
good parts and not the bad.
They’re so different from what Changbin is used to. Felix’s older sister has long brown hair
and a keen sense about her. The way she looks at them both suggests an intelligence she’s
deliberately not revealing and it’s both concerning and impressive.
His younger sister is tiny. Whilst not as quietly impressive as her older sister, there’s an
inquisitiveness about her that Changbin finds oddly charming. They’re so like Felix in the
way they talk, the easy affection they give and yet at the same time they’re so different.
Felix’s father is the chef of the family, a fact he proudly tells Changbin all about as he
introduces the dishes he’d prepared for them.
“The kitchen is my territory,” he tells Changbin as he twirls a pair of tongs between long,
elegant fingers. “I cook, I clean and nobody’s allowed to touch it, it’s my domain.”
“Sure dad,” Felix’s younger sister snorts. “Except you can’t bake to save your life.”
Changbin doesn’t know what to make of him but he seems kind.
“You’re staying, right?” the younger sister asks, her eyes on both Felix and Changbin. “Are
you staying?”
“For a little bit,” Felix promises. “We don’t really have a Plan B right now.”
For a moment, Changbin is afraid they’ll ask why they can’t just go back to South Korea.
Why they seem to be here to stay when their lives were in another country. But they do no
such thing.
Instead, the older sister smiles and leans back in her seat. “We really missed you, Felix,” she
tells him.
Her eyes turn to Changbin and the smile on her face is still kind, but a little strained.
Changbin picks up on it right away, the way the look on her face turns a little reserved.
He wonders what she thinks of him.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” she tells him. “This house is your house.”
After dinner, Felix moves their luggage into his old bedroom on the second floor. Apparently
it hadn’t been touched since he left for Korea. Changbin looks over the posters on his walls,
the textbooks tucked away in boxes under the double bed. Felix has action figures lined along
his windowsill and books tucked into the shelves next to his wardrobe. He has an impressive
collection of comic books, Marvel, DC, whatever he could get his hands on apparently.
Felix blushes as Changbin leans over to take a closer look.
“I was a bit…” Felix begins, his cheeks pink as he sits on the end of his bed. “...a bit of a
nerd.”
“Was?” Changbin teases.
He gets up and crosses over to sit on the bed. The mattress sinks underneath his weight and
he takes a deep breath as he looks over the bedroom. It’s very…Felix. Warm, cute and
interesting like him.
“Your family is so different,” Changbin notes after a moment. “They’re so…warm.”
Felix nods and Changbin turns his eyes to the window. Night has fallen and just outside he
can see the view of the front yard and the street. The streetlights keep the area well lit, cosy,
quiet and peaceful.
“This place looks so nice,” Changbin says quietly. He turns to Felix and sees the other
smiling. “It’s so different to what I’m used to.”
“In a good way, I hope?”
“A very good way. This place feels like…” Changbin pauses, his eyebrows furrowing as he
searches for the right word. “It feels like…you were well and truly loved here.”
“I was.”
Changbin takes his hand and looks down. He doesn’t know why Felix appeared in South
Korea, only that he did and Chan never said why. Changbin never thought to ask. It just
occurs to him now that Felix had the perfect childhood here, he has a family who loves him,
why on earth would he trade all of that for an admittedly dangerous life in South Korea with
a cannibalistic restaurant?
He doesn’t ask now. It seems a strange thing to ask. Especially now after everything that’s
happened.
“Do you know what you want to do now?” he asks, his thumb gently rubbing Felix’s hand.
“Now that…we’re here and it looks like we’re going to be here for a while.”
Chan had told him not to come back. No matter what he heard, no matter what he saw, he
wasn’t to come back and as much as Changbin wants to return and look for him, he knows
better.
“No idea,” Felix admits. “I think for now we just need to take it day by day. Slowly.”
Day by day sounds fine to Changbin. Neither of them are in the headspace to plan for their
next move, to figure out what to do with their lives after being so violently derailed from the
lives they were living before. To lose everyone in such a short amount of time, to be forced
out of the country the way they had been…
“There’s a nice lake nearby,” Felix tells him. “I used to go there all the time with my mother.
I was thinking of going there tomorrow, do you want to come with me?”
Changbin nods, he feels Felix kiss his forehead and he leans into him.
They shower, they change, they sleep on Felix’s bed and it never occurs to Changbin that he
didn’t meet Felix’s mother tonight. It doesn’t cross Changbin’s exhausted and confused mind
that no one mentioned her before Felix talked about the lake.
He falls asleep, his arms locked around Felix, the scent of Felix emanating from the sheets
and he doesn’t realise that in his arms, Felix isn’t asleep. Felix doesn’t sleep. Felix simply
stares up at the ceiling, his hand gently stroking Changbin’s hair, a lump in his throat and
something aching in his heart.
Home again. Now it’s not so easy to forget.
When Felix’s little sister hears that they’re going to the lake, she insists on baking them
muffins for their lunch. The kitchen is filled with the scent of baking early in the morning and
Felix busies himself with packing food and a blanket.
Changbin tries to help but Felix keeps telling him it’s fine, he’s the guest, he doesn’t need to
lift a finger.
By midday, Felix takes Changbin out of the house and down the road. There’s a strange,
animated skip in his step as he takes Changbin down familiar roads. He tells Changbin all
about it too.
“I was riding a skateboard for the first time just down there,” Felix tells him, his finger
pointing at a nearby park as they walk by. “Scraped my knee so badly. There was blood all
over the playground.”
Changbin looks at him in alarm. “You didn’t get back on the skateboard, did you?”
“Of course I did! I broke my arm the week after.”
They walk past Felix’s primary school and Felix tells him all about his teachers, his friends,
the memories he’d made there. Changbin follows along and it’s nice to just listen to him.
Listen about a life full of such domestic happiness and love that he thought didn’t exist.
Because he never had this, Jisung didn’t either and god knows Chan never did. Hyunjin
didn’t, neither did Minho.
Felix and Seungmin are the only ones who know what it’s like to have a relatively happy and
‘normal’ life.
The winding suburban roads give way to a dirt track off the beaten path. Felix holds
Changbin’s hand and leads him down a thin dirt road lined with thick bushes and tall trees.
On and on they push until a clearing finally reveals itself. A small grassy area next to a quiet
lake with a wooden wharf.
It’s beautiful.
“Mum used to take me here all the time,” Felix explains as he leads Changbin into the small,
tranquil area.
Felix puts their picnic basket down and looks over the lake, the way it stretches out to the
other side of the area. It’s a picnic area no doubt, there are other open spaces but this one
seems hidden away, private and as a result, more beautiful.
They eat first. It turns out Felix’s younger sister has the same gift with cooking that Felix has.
Her baking melts in their mouths and Felix is proud when he tells Changbin he taught her
everything he knew about baking. They eat and for a while, they just sit on the picnic blanket,
quietly enjoying the view and each others company.
But as the afternoon sun begins to fade and the warm air turns cold, Felix stands from the
blanket and slowly walks towards the wharf. Changbin gets up and follows him, watching as
Felix slowly walks to the end of the wharf and sits down to let his feet dangle above the
water.
He feels something off.
“Lix?”
Felix doesn’t answer. His shoulders are slumped, his head downturned and for a moment,
Changbin thinks he might be crying. He might be sad about Chan and it’s understandable.
But what comes out of Felix’s mouth isn’t about Chan, or Minho, Jisung, Jeongin or any of
the others.
“Do you know why I came to South Korea?”
Changbin pauses, he stays standing behind Felix’s sitting figure and Felix can’t see him shake
his head but he seems to understand that of course, Changbin doesn’t know.
“I told Chan that I came to look for my real father…and it was half the truth,” Felix admits.
“I also told Chan I didn’t know any Korean…which was a blatant lie. I was fluent when I met
him.”
Changbin frowns, thoroughly confused. “I don’t understand.”
“You’ve been at my house, met my family,” Felix points out, his head turning so he can look
at Changbin. “Did you ever wonder why you never met my mother?”
It occurs to Changbin, belatedly, that he didn’t and no one talked about her either. His brain
struggles to keep up with what’s happening but he’s certain Felix has talked to his mother
before on the phone - so she’s not dead. Or at least, she wasn’t when she called him.
“Where is she?” he asks, cautious and aware that Felix is leading up to something.
Felix turns back to the lake and sighs. His shoulders rising and falling with his breathing.
“Well that’s kind of a lie too,” he admits quietly. “You have met my mother before. Just not
here.”
“Lix, I don’t understand,” Changbin frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“My mother went missing years ago,” Felix tells him quietly and calmly. “A letter from an
unknown man and she vanished to South Korea. Then we never heard from her and I went
after her.”
Changbin slowly sits down on the wharf, his eyes trained on Felix’s back as the other speaks
candidly.
“My sister knew that something bad must have happened - we all knew actually. We had just
enough clues to lead us to Bang Chan but we didn’t know how he could be connected to this,
so to keep everyone off the trail, she’d call me every now and then and pretend to be mum.
Just in case Chan ever tried to connect the dots.”
“So…all those times your mother called, it was actually-”
“My sister, yes.”
Changbin doesn’t understand, he’s struggling to follow but he listens regardless.
“I deliberately followed Chan to that bar and pretended not to know any Korean,” Felix
admits. “I pretended I didn’t know anything even as he took important calls right in front of
me. I integrated myself seamlessly into God’s Menu and worked on getting everyone to trust
me. Even Hyunjin.”
There’s an eerie calmness about Felix. Almost detached, as if this story isn’t his own, it’s
someone else’s. Still he doesn’t look at Changbin and instead keeps his gaze trained on the
lake ahead of him.
“And then, I looked into it. I looked into the murders, all the bodies, I searched all the
records, I tore through everything available to me and no one ever looked because everyone
trusted me - especially Chan. I pretended I was looking for my father and that is half true, I
always knew my mother had had an affair, I knew the man who raised me and loved me
wasn’t my father. I just didn’t realise that my father was the Prime Minister himself…”
Changbin’s eyes widen. “Chan’s father? You’re…?”
“His brother, yes,” Felix chuckles. “So is Hyunjin. Nasty shock when we found out about
that.”
Changbin blinks, stunned. Too stunned to comment.
“But that wasn’t what I came looking for. I came looking because I knew Chan had
something to do with my mothers sudden disappearance. I knew she’d been called to South
Korea by the Prime Minister and I don’t know if it was because he’d found her and she had to
protect me to prevent him finding out about me or if there was another reason but one thing I
do know is that he called her there…and then he told Chan…”
Changbin’s heart drops. Oh god no.
“Take care of her,” Felix finishes quietly, echoing the same words Chan’s father used to tell
Chan, Jisung and Changbin every time he gave them someone to kill. Someone who
threatened him.
They never questioned it. They did as they were told. They killed countless people,
politicians, businessmen, anyone who threatened the Prime Minister and his spotless
reputation. That man had found Felix’s mother, he’d called her back to the country and that’s
when his son, Jisung and Changbin had…
“Lix…”
Felix pulls his phone out of his pocket and scrolls through the gallery quickly before pulling
up a photo of a woman. He shows it to Changbin and Changbin recognises her immediately.
In the photo, she’s holding a younger Felix in her arms and smiling at the camera.
Years ago, that same woman had been in a hotel room when Jisung and Changbin were
ordered to ‘take care of her’. That same woman had disappeared just like all the others, she’d
hung from the meathooks, she’d vanished without a trace.
Not one of them ever knew she was Felix’s mother.
“Oh god…”
Felix is sobbing quietly, his shoulders shaking, his head bowed as he pulls his phone back
and cries into his knees. Changbin can’t stand the sound but he can’t stand that he’s the one
who caused it.
Distressed, Changbin gets up to his feet and paces the wharf, his hands in his hair and his
breathing coming in short.
He’d killed Felix’s mother. He’d killed her before he even knew who she was. Changbin
paces back and forth, tears leaking from his eyes as the gravity of the situation hits him right
between the eyes. That’s why Felix’s sisters were reserved with him, that’s why Felix used to
cry every time his sister would call him. That’s why every time Felix received a call from
home, he’d act out, it’s because of this.
“I was meant to kill you,” Felix cries, his face hidden in his hands. “I wanted to. I wanted to
kill the people who’d done this to her but by the time I found out it was you guys, it was
already too late. I already knew Chan was my brother, I already liked Han and I was already
in love with…”
He chokes on a sob and uses his sleeves to wipe at his face. Behind him, Changbin is still
pacing the wharf, as if worried he’ll panic and fall apart if he stops.
“God,” he breathes. “Felix I…”
He’s sorry? Changbin feels the words burn on his tongue. What good would being sorry do,
this isn’t something anyone could forgive. He stares at the back of Felix’s head and he
doesn’t know what to say, what he can possibly say or do to make this better.
There’s nothing he could say or do to make it better. Absolutely nothing.
Changbin’s chest aches. It feels like he’s being torn apart from the inside every time he hears
Felix’s breath hitch with a sob. For a paralysing moment, he has no idea what to do. Stuck in
another country, far away from home, with no one he loves left alive aside from the one
person he has left and he’s hurt him so badly he’s not sure either of them will ever come back
from it.
“I…” Changbin breathes, his chest rising and falling with his panicked breathing. “Felix I…
God…”
He wants to leave and at the same time he can’t bring himself to walk away from Felix. He
wants to stay but he feels like that isn’t going to be good for Felix at all, not after what he’d
done to him.
“Your sisters…”
“They know,” Felix replies, his voice soft and quiet. “Dad knows too. They all know.”
Changbin runs a hand through his hair, his mind struggling to think of what to do now, how
to deal with this. He wonders what Chan would have done, had he known. What would
Jisung have done about this?
That’s when Felix turns where he sits and looks up at Changbin.
“The problem is that I still love you,” he says, quite candidly. “And I don’t know what to do
with that.”
“I don’t know how you can still love me,” Changbin confesses, his heart still racing as he
looks down at Felix. “If it were me…”
“What?” Felix tilts his head. “You’d stop loving me if I killed your mother?”
“I’d have a hard time trying to be near you,” Changbin admits. “I don’t get on with my
mother but she’s still my mother. If I were you I’d…”
“What? You’d what?”
Changbin has to tear his eyes off Felix and run his hand through his hair again.
“Tell me,” Felix prompts. “Because I honestly don’t know what to do with you. I love you
and I need you and I can’t live without you but at the same time I can’t forget what you did.
What all of you did.”
Changbin’s heart hurts.
“I’ll leave,” he says. “You’re with your family now. You’re safe and you’re away from
everything that’s happening in South Korea. I’ll leave-”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Well me sticking around isn’t going to be good for you either!” Changbin snaps, frustrated
by the conundrum they’re both stuck in. “Let’s review the flat facts here: nevermind the
psychological damage you’ve experienced whilst working in God’s Menu. The fact is that
Chan, Han and I killed your mother, okay? That’s the fact. That’s the part we’re going to have
trouble getting past. The best solution is that I leave.”
“And go where?” Felix asks, springing up from the end of the wharf to his feet. “Where
would you go? Han and Chan are gone and it’s not safe to go back to South Korea-”
“Like I give a shit whether or not it’s safe!”
“Do you want to leave me?”
“I want to get as far away from you as possible!”
“Why?!”
“Because after what I did, I shouldn’t be anywhere near you!” Changbin screams. “You
should want to never see me ever again! You should want me dead!”
Felix’s hands push him back.
“But I don’t want you dead! I don’t want you gone! I want you with me!”
“Even I can see from a mile away that’s toxic as fuck, Felix!” Changbin yells, stumbling back
when Felix pushes him again. “I’m not Hyunjin! Okay?! I won’t stay with you when I’m
hurting you and every time you look at me, I’ll be hurting you by reminding you of what I
did. You can’t forgive me for that!”
“I won’t forgive you for that but I’ll forgive you even less if you leave me now!” Felix
shrieks, his hand in a vice grip around Changbin’s wrist as if to stop him from walking out
right then and there. There are tears streaming down his face and where he had been so calm,
now he’s angry. “You did this to me! You took my mother away from me! You’re the reason I
had to come after her to South Korea and you made me fall in love with you! You can’t just
do all of that to me and leave me!”
Changbin grits his teeth.
“I will leave you a thousand times if it’ll help you move on from all of this!” he declares as
he rips his wrist out of Felix’s vice grip.
“Then kill me!” Felix screams, tearful eyes squinted in rage as he starts pushing against
Changbin again. “Go on, finish the fucking job! He ordered you to kill her because she was a
threat to him, I’m a threat to him too so fucking kill me!”
“Lix-”
“Kill me! It’s what you’ll be doing if you leave me anyway!”
Felix is pushing against him and Changbin isn’t looking at anything but him. His Felix, who
is so tearful and so angry and so unwilling to acknowledge the nasty reality of their situation,
there is no reasoning with him. He takes one more step back and loses his footing because he
hadn’t realised he was right at the edge of the wharf.
Felix pushes him, his hands gripping Changbin’s shirt and because of that, he slips as well
and falls with Changbin into the water with a loud splash.
It’s shallow water but still shocking enough to knock the air out of both of them. When
Changbin pushes himself up, he splutters as he wipes his face and looks up to see Felix doing
the same. Before he can react, Felix’s hands are on his face, he pulls him in and Changbin
feels Felix’s lips on his own, desperate, clinging and almost bruising with the force he kisses
him with.
He’s helpless to pull away so he kisses him back.
Eventually they drag themselves out of the lake. In the balmy afternoon sun, Changbin and
Felix lie down side by side on the bank. The grass blades cut gently against their arms as they
stare up at the canopy of green leaves above them, the blue sky just beyond that.
Felix finds Changbin’s hand and holds it tight.

“We can’t do this, Lix,” Changbin tells him, exhausted as he squeezes Felix’s hand. “I can’t
do this to you. I’ve already hurt you enough, I won’t hurt you more by being the constant
reminder.”
“I love you,” Felix reminds him quietly.
“You love me now. But if I stay, that love will turn to hate and you’ll wish I’d left.”
“No I won’t-”
“Felix, listen to me,” Changbin pleads, his head turning to look at the other lying right next to
him.
Felix is beautiful. Even here, soaked to the bone, he’s stunning. The sun seems to kiss his
skin just right, highlighting the freckles Changbin has spent so long counting as an excuse to
stare at his beautiful face. It hurts to look at him.
“I am so sorry,” Changbin tells him. “For my part in this, for Chan’s, for Han’s too. You
haven’t had enough time to sort through it but you will, you need the time to sort through
what the last few years have done to you. What the last few months have done. You can’t
forgive me for what I did to your mother and I can’t forgive myself for it either.”
Felix sniffles, his bottom lip wobbling as tears fill his pretty eyes again.
“That doesn’t mean you have to leave me.”
“It does. You won’t move on if I stay. You’ll be reminded every day of what I did and
whether I stay or leave, one day you’ll come to terms with the reality of it and you’ll hate
me.”
“No,” Felix sniffs. He squeezes Changbin’s hand and brings it up to kiss his knuckles. “I’ve
known about my mother for a while now. Maybe I’ll never forget or forgive but I do know I
need you. Not just because I love you but because no one else knows what I’ve been through
over the last few years. No one else has lost the same people I’ve just lost. I need you and
you need me, if we separate now, neither of us will recover.”
Changbin’s breath halts in his lungs. His chest aches and the longer he stares at Felix, the
more he realises that Felix has a point. It’ll be painful, it’ll be hard and there will be times
where they’ll wish they’d separated but right now, whilst the pain is still too raw, they need
each other.
“Lix…”
“Stay,” Felix whispers. “Please. We won’t be living with my family, we can find an
apartment. We can start again, we can try to heal. Please stay with me.”
It hurts. His entire chest hurts. Changbin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, as if to try
and alleviate at least some of the pain but it doesn’t work. All his life, he’d never thought he
could hurt someone he loved this much but now that he has, he feels like he’s staring down
the barrel of a loaded gun.
“Promise me one thing,” he says, eyes opening to watch Felix seriously. “Promise me that the
second you want me gone, you tell me so. Don’t hold onto me. If you want me, I’ll stay but if
you don’t, I’ll leave. I’ll do whatever you want, you just have to tell me.”
Felix smiles, watery and tearful but relieved that Changbin isn’t going to leave him. He nods
and rolls closer to Changbin.
“I promise.”
Changbin nods and Felix leans over him to kiss him properly. He tastes like the lake water,
like salt and tears and the taste that Changbin will forever associate with Felix. Only Felix.
He closes his eyes and gently loops his arms around Felix.
The kiss tastes bittersweet and all Changbin can do is hold onto him.
1 Year, 6 Months Later
Jeongin exhales slowly, his fingers clenching gently on the blanket as he stares up at the
ceiling. It’s a chilly morning but he barely feels it, his body is hot, he can’t stop shivering and
not because he’s cold. The blanket is pulled up halfway over his chest, hiding what’s going
on underneath but anyone walking in would have seen the human sized bump nestled
between Jeongin’s legs.
Over the course of his relationship, he can count on maybe one hand how many times he’s
given Hyunjin a blowjob. It’s not for lack of trying either, it’s just that Hyunjin is so
hyperactive in bed that Jeongin can’t get him to lie back long enough to enjoy one.
Hyunjin however, has given countless blowjobs. To the point that Jeongin starts to suspect
Hyunjin actually enjoys giving them more than receiving them.
Quite literally a cocksucker.
The thought makes him chuckle until Hyunjin’s head pops up from under the blankets.
“Innie,” he says. “I’m sucking you off, you’re not supposed to laugh.”
“Sorry daddy,” Jeongin coos as he reaches a hand down to pet Hyunjin’s hair. “I was just
thinking about how you’re actually a cocksucker.”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes and Jeongin looks down at him. “And besides, I’m fucked up on meds
right now.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I just…I had to take my morning pills.”
“So um…how fucked up are you?”
“Little bit…”
“Can you feel what I’m doing or am I just getting a sore jaw for nothing?”
“No, I can feel it,” Jeongin assures him with a small giggle. “It feels amazing actually, the
meds I’m on make my entire body super sensitive so I’m actually feeling everything you do
times ten.”
Hyunjin shoots him a sceptical look but he disappears back under the blanket and Jeongin’s
eyes flutter when he feels his mouth back on his cock. He stares back up at the ceiling, his
hand stroking Hyunjin’s hair in appreciation.
The den of the kingpin is different. Where the rest of the building is maxxed out with security
guards, alarm codes and high ranking Wolgang Pa members who would live and die for him,
their space, their apartment, is a mixture of both of them.
The walls of the hallways are lined with paintings Hyunjin had taken a liking to over the
years, the kitchen is decked out with all the expensive electronics in a bid to make cooking
easier (and to reduce the risk of either of them getting nasty flashbacks from their days in the
restaurant) Jeongin has his own office area, usually where he hides when he’s fighting with
Hyunjin or he needs space - which isn’t that often.
But the bed. The bed had been the one thing both of them had agreed on. It had to be big and
it had to be comfortable because god knows they’d be spending a hell of a lot of time on it
together.
As it is now, Jeongin feels his back sinking comfortably into the plush topper of the mattress
and his eyes flutter as he pets Hyunjin’s hair and moans every time Hyunjin’s tongue flicks
just under the head, finding and touching all the areas he knows Jeongin responds to most. By
now, no one else knows Jeongin’s body better than Hyunjin himself.
Jeongin’s breath hitches, his eyes fluttering as he feels a pulse of pleasure at his gut. It starts
spreading slowly and he starts to shiver, his hand gripping Hyunjin’s hair tighter in warning.
Hyunjin holds his legs down to stop him squirming and Jeongin tilts his head back, a choked
moan echoing off the walls as he struggles to keep his breathing under control.
“Hyun…”
Hyunjin’s hand slides up the length of his flat abdomen, up to his chest and Jeongin shivers
as he links his fingers with Hyunjin’s. The other isn’t letting up, if anything he’s sucking
harder and Jeongin’s back begins to arch from the mattress the closer he gets.
He’s so close. So frustratingly close that he’s near begging when a sharp knock on the door
knocks both of them off the high they’d been riding.
“Sir,” Daniel’s voice sounds on the other end. “Sir, there’s someone here to see you.”
Hyunjin groans in annoyance, he pulls himself off Jeongin’s cock and pushes the blankets
down so he can pop his head up and glance at the door.
“Tell them to fuck off!” he barks.
“I…I can’t…sir, they're pretty adamant.”
“Fucks sake,” Hyunjin grumbles, he turns back to look up at Jeongin and the other is still
shivering, but his breathing is slowly returning to normal as that orgasm he’d been so close to
having is slipping further and further away. “I’m a little busy here, Daniel.”
Hyunjin disappears back under the blankets and Jeongin whimpers when he feels his mouth
back on his cock. But a knock at the door sounds again.
“Sir…I really have to insist. This guy isn’t leaving and-”
Hyunjin’s mouth sucks harder, Jeongin jumps when he feels Hyunjin’s hands between his
legs, massaging his inner thighs, another hand slides up his chest to flick at his nipples and he
gasps in response.
“Louder than that, Innie,” Hyunjin mutters quietly under the blanket. “Make him go away.”
Jeongin’s lips are parted, helpless pants escaping him as he stares up at the ceiling and
strokes Hyunjin’s hair back. He licks his lips in a bid to get moisture back into them and
arches his back when Hyunjin licks a particularly sensitive area. His eyes flutter, at this rate
he’s not going to last long at all.
“Hyun-”
“Louder, Innie,” Hyunjin demands quietly before he sucks Jeongin back into his mouth.
The choked sound Jeongin lets out still isn’t loud enough. Hyunjin’s hands roam, pinching
and feeling, his tongue rolls over sensitive skin and Jeongin starts to shake again.
So close. So fucking close.
“Sir,” Daniel’s voice cuts in again. “Sir please-”
“Fuuuuuuck,” Jeongin hisses, his back arching as at last, at last, ecstasy.
The moan he lets out is loud and unbridled, his hands scrabble to cling to the sheets, to
Hyunjin’s hair, to his hands, to anything for a semblance of sanity. He pants and feels the rush
of pleasure rolling over him over and over again. He calls for Hyunjin, his eyes rolling to the
back of his head as he feels his limbs shake in response.
There’s no way Daniel didn’t hear that.
When he comes to, he’s languidly sinking into the mattress. Hyunjin climbs up the length of
his body and leans over him, an almost proud and cocky smirk on his beautiful face.
Jeongin’s eyes flutter as he reaches a hand up and watches Hyunjin nuzzle his face into his
palm, a fond, amused smile on his lips. He presses a small kiss to Jeongin’s palm and leans
down to take Jeongin’s lips in another kiss. Shorter, sweeter but satisfied.
“Well.”
Hyunjin and Jeongin look up, both surprised to see the bedroom door is open and Felix is
standing in their room, arms folded and a small amused smirk on his face.
“Nice to see you two are getting along.”
Felix’s hugs feel the same now as they had done two years ago. Jeongin leans easily into him,
closing his eyes as Felix’s scent, his warmth seeps into his skin and after so long without him,
he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be embraced by him again.
They’re standing in the middle of the living room, right between two couches that face each
other. On one couch, Hyunjin crosses one leg over the other and ignores the display in front
of him in favour of lighting a cigarette. On the other, Changbin looks around the room
curiously, his fingers gently tapping the leather of the armrest.
“God you’ve gotten bigger,” Felix grins as he pulls back just far enough to look over Jeongin.
“You okay? Has he been feeding you? Treating you right?”
“Yes, yes and yes,” Jeongin answers with a smile. “I’ve been good, hyung.”
“Good,” Felix sighs, a devilish smile creeping onto his face as he leans in just a little closer.
“Because I was gonna say, if he ever makes you cry, I’m not above digging up a fresh grave
and helping you hide his body.”
Hyunjin chokes on the cigarette, he splutters and looks up incredulously at the pair. “I’m
sitting right here!” he reminds them, indignant. “Within earshot!”
“Yeah, so?” Felix shrugs, his arm curling around Jeongin’s shoulders as he pulls the other
closer to him. “If you don’t want me to break all your limbs and bury you alive, don’t hurt
my Innie and we’ll never have a problem.”
“My Innie,” Hyunjin huffs as he reaches over to grab Jeongin’s wrist and bring him closer.
Felix lets Jeongin go, watching in amusement as Hyunjin drags Jeongin closer and pulls him
down to sit next to him on the couch. Hyunjin levels Felix with a cool look as he drapes his
arm around Jeongin and pulls him closer to his side.
“Might I remind you, he’s been my Innie much longer,” he points out, unimpressed as he
leans back into the couch and keeps Jeongin close. “What brings you two back to Korea
anyway? Thought you were off living better lives in Australia or wherever it is you ended up
in.”
Felix turns and sits down next to Changbin. He takes his hand and it’s only a split second but
Jeongin notices it immediately. The slightest shift in Changbin’s facial expression, the tiniest
flinch before he fixes his face into composed indifference and links his fingers with Felix’s.
“It’s been two years now,” Felix says. “And…we tried living better lives but…honestly…”
“It was killing us,” Changbin finishes quietly. “We really did try.”
“We got an apartment, I went to uni, Bin got a job but…” Felix trails off, his eyebrows fixed
in a small frown as he tries to explain just how difficult the past two years have been. “Even
with the fortune Chan left for us, it was impossible to carry on as if all of this hadn’t
happened. We couldn’t even talk to anyone about it. We couldn’t live like that.”
Hyunjin shrugs, nonplussed. “I’m not surprised,” he says. “Personally, I wouldn’t be able to
do that.”
“Yes, but you’re different,” Jeongin reminds him quietly with an almost patronising pat to his
knee.
“This is the only place where everything made sense…oddly enough,” Felix confesses.
“Even when I stepped off the plane I felt like I was home. But I need…home.”
Jeongin glances at Hyunjin to see the other, for once, is silent. His eyes are watching Felix as
if he understands his meaning immediately. Changbin is silent too, his eyes averted as he
stares at a spot on the floor and zones out. Jeongin can’t imagine what the last year has been
like for them but he senses something off. Strained.
“What is home?” he asks at last.
“Home was God’s Menu,” Felix replies with ease. “Home was Chan. But he’s not here
anymore and the only people I have left are you two and Bin. I don’t know where Seungmin
is.”
“Gone,” Hyunjin replies before Jeongin can tell Felix that Seungmin is in Hawaii. Hyunjin
fixes his emotionless eyes on Felix and says: “He’s not coming back.”
“Then you two are all that’s left,” Felix answers and for a moment, he looks
uncharacteristically lost. Like something’s just occurred to him.
His face turns insecure and Jeongin frowns. He’s not even sure Felix knows what he’s asking
for. Just something…something because living a normal life isn’t an option for any of them
anymore.
Suddenly, Hyunjin gets up and nods to the sliding doors at the back of the room. They lead to
a balcony overlooking the city. He leads the way out and Felix, catching his meaning,
squeezes Changbin’s hand before he gets up to follow him out.
They leave through the doors and Jeongin turns to see Changbin is still zoned out.
“Hyung?”
“Mm?”
“Are you okay?”
Changbin’s eyes flick to Jeongin and there it is again. The slightest flicker of something
pained, something horribly restrained before he pulls it back in again and masks it with a
cool, emotionless facade.
“I’m fine.”
Jeongin frowns but he doesn’t press it.
Out on the balcony, the cool midnight air brushes over both Felix and Hyunjin. Felix still
feels awkward, out of place as he watches Hyunjin lean against the iron railing and light a
cigarette between his lips.
It’s a new development. Felix remembers Hyunjin would smoke weed but he didn’t smoke
cigarettes until fairly recently.
Hyunjin doesn’t speak at first and Felix doesn’t know how to break the silence. The only
sound is the distant sound of the traffic far below. Felix looks around at the wooden chairs
placed outside, the trailing vines and greenery - Jeongin’s touch no doubt. In a strange way,
the entire mansion of the kingpin of Wolgang Pa has traces of them both. The outward layout
of the apartment is entirely Hyunjin - just enough space to do things and not too much
because he never liked open areas.
The little touches inside, the plants, the hanging vines, the books, that’s all Jeongin.
“What’s up with you and Bin?” Hyunjin finally says.
Felix frowns. “We’re fine…we’re just jetlagged.”
Hyunjin shoots him a look but he doesn’t press it. Instead he takes another drag and carries
on.
“Well…if you don’t mind getting your hands dirty every now and then, I could always use
more members…”
Anyone else might have expected Felix to scoff. Maybe reject him outright and tell him he
wasn’t going to start working for a gang but Felix doesn’t. Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t either.
Instead Felix looks at him curiously and inches a little closer.
“I’m not getting branded,” he says.
“I don’t expect you to be branded,” Hyunjin shoots back with a shrug. “Most normal
gangsters go for tattoos anyway. I personally don’t give a shit what my guys do, so long as
they do it on my orders.”
Felix stares at him for the longest time. He’s always been the most expressive member of
their group. It’s so easy to tell what he’s thinking at a glance because he wears his heart on
his sleeve. In a way, it’s kind of refreshing because whilst Hyunjin isn’t the least observant
person around, he always did have to exert a certain amount of effort into reading the others.
Not Felix. With Felix he could always tell at a glance how he was feeling and what he can see
now is Felix standing on the edge of a precipice, asking to be pulled down.
Hyunjin nods to the door where he can still see Changbin sitting in the other room.
“He comes with me,” Felix says. “He’s fine. We just…we can’t live normal lives anymore.
I’ve accepted that. Give him something to do and he’ll come right.”
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at him. Felix either has absolutely no idea that something is wrong
with Changbin (extremely unlikely given how observant he is) or he does and he’s actively
ignoring it. Either way, Hyunjin knows a ticking time bomb when he can see one.
“Lix…”
“He’s fine,” Felix insists, his tone a little harder than before. He shoots Hyunjin a warning
look and turns back to look over the city below. “Bin’s fine.”
“Say it more, I think I’ll start believing you.”
Just as quickly as he’d flared up in defense, Felix deflates and with a very heavy sigh, he
leans heavily against the railing. For a moment, Felix looks out over the city and feels the
night breeze pushing his hair away from his face. Even the air smells different here and he’s
not sure if that’s a good thing yet.
Hyunjin doesn’t press, he doesn’t say anything, he just smokes and waits.
“He’s depressed,” Felix admits at last. “We tried to make it over there and we couldn’t.
There’s other things too but…in a nutshell, somewhere over the last few months, Changbin
started shutting down. He stopped talking to me, stopped…everything. He’s depressed and I
wouldn’t be surprised if he’s suicidal too.”
Hyunjin watches the back of Felix’s head and notes how the other looks tired, even defeated.
“I brought him here because I was hoping that being back in Korea would bring him back. I
hoped that seeing familiar faces other than mine might…I don’t know…”
Hyunjin shrugs. “You know he doesn’t like me, right?”
“But he likes Innie,” Felix turns back to Hyunjin. “And I’d take him to Seungmin if I knew
where he was. I don’t know what else to do, Hyunjin, I’m scared that one morning I’ll wake
up and he’ll be there hanging at the foot of my bed with a suicide note next to my head.”
“So…what, you thought the best solution was to take him back here and put him into a
gang?” Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at Felix. “Something’s missing in your logic, Lix.”
“There’s nothing else I can think of doing,” Felix says, almost desperate. “I just need help,
Hyunjin. Please, give him something to do. Maybe it’ll help him.”
Hyunjin sighs heavily and flicks his cigarette over the balcony. It falls to the city below as he
nods to the door and leads Felix back inside.
Jeongin and Changbin are still silent, awkwardly biding their time as Hyunjin and Felix walk
back inside and sit down. Hyunjin notices the way Changbin almost flinches when Felix sits
next to him and frowns. How can they possibly fix that?
“Oh, and I was also thinking of visiting Chan’s grave at some point,” Felix comments.
“Hyunjin, you should come with me.”
Hyunjin snorts and rests his head on Jeongin’s shoulder. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
Changbin’s eyes turn hard but he doesn’t comment. Instead Felix gently rests a hand on
Changbin’s knee and keeps his eyes trained on Hyunjin.
“You should come with me,” he says in a way that sounds much less like a suggestion and
more like an order. “And we should bring him flowers.”
“Again. Why…?”
“Because you’re his brother too,” Felix says, watching as Jeongin’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Just like I am. We. Should. Go. See. Our. Brother. Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin grits his teeth, he lifts his head from Jeongin’s shoulder and glares at Felix. “I hadn’t
told Innie that, Felix.”
“Well maybe you should have just gone along with me in the first place, Hyunjin.”
“Wait, wait,” Jeongin speaks up, his eyes wide as he looks from Hyunjin to Felix and back to
Hyunjin again. “You’re Chan’s brother?”
“Our father was a very friendly man,” Felix answers before Hyunjin has the chance to.
“Well…our biological father. Not the wonderful man who raised me and the asshole who
raised Hyunjin.”
“But…” Jeongin’s eyes rapidly flick from Felix to Hyunjin, his mind piecing together a very
vital piece of information. “But you…”
“Innie,” Hyunjin warns.
“But…”
“Don’t say it.”
“Didn’t you two…?”
“Yes, we did,” Felix confirms brazenly.
“Lix!” Hyunjin snaps.
“Oh my god…” Jeongin gasps. “You-”
“Innie, don’t-”
“You fucked your brother!”
Hyunjin buries his face in his hands, Felix winces and Changbin looks completely
nonplussed as Jeongin’s surprise and shock gives way to furious laughter. He starts cackling,
the kind of stomach aching laughter that ends with him on the floor holding his middle.
Felix just looks amused, Changbin watches on as Hyunjin slowly takes his face out of his
hands and glares down at Jeongin, who is still laughing.
“I hope you choke on your giggles, Innie.”
“Let him be,” Felix chuckles. “So let’s go see Channie tomorrow, Hyunjin. Before I tell him
exactly how we played around.”
Hyunjin grumbles. He curls up on the side of the couch and reaches a slender leg out to kick
what he can reach of Jeongin’s knee unhappily. The way he hunches up in his corner, knees
raised and arms around himself reminds Felix distantly of a pillbug. Complete with the
disgusted expression on his face.
“Fine,” Hyunjin finally mutters with another kick at Jeongin who simply rolls away. “Fine.”
Eventually he concedes to giving Felix and Changbin an apartment to stay. Jeongin is curled
up in bed, his phone between his fingers as he listens to Hyunjin cleaning himself up in the
bathroom. The whoosh sounds of messages being received and sent fills the otherwise quiet
room as Hyunjin finally flicks the bathroom light off and comes to bed.
“Who are you talking to?” he asks as he pulls the blanket back and slides in next to Jeongin.
“Seungmin.”
“Please tell me you didn’t tell him about the Felix thing.”
“I did.”
Jeongin proudly shows Hyunjin a long line of messages.
Seungmo: 😨
Seungmo: 🤢
Seungmo: 🤮
Seungmo: 😧
Seungmo: 😂
Seungmo: 🤣
Hyunjin groans and rolls onto his back.
“God I hate you.”
“Aww, love you too,” Jeongin chuckles.
He puts his phone away and when the light of the screen dies down, the room is doused in
darkness. Jeongin snuggles into Hyunjin’s side and locks both arms around him. He rests his
head on Hyunjin’s shoulder and waits for the other to put his arm around him - which he
always does, even when he’s mad at him.
“So you’re gonna go see Chan-hyung tomorrow?”
“Looks that way, yes,” Hyunjin mutters, his arm settling around Jeongin to pull him closer.
“As if Lix is giving me a choice.”
“Well I’d love to hear all about how you fucked your brother.”
“Can we not talk about that?”
“To think I got all jealous about that.”
“It’s not like we knew when it happened. Chan knew, he should have warned us but instead
all he did was leave Felix with a vague warning not to go for me. Who does that? Of course
Felix took that as a challenge.”
“Blaming Chan for your incest?”
Hyunjin pokes Jeongin’s side and smirks when the other shrieks with laughter. He tries to
wriggle away but Hyunjin keeps him in close until the other settles against him once again.
They’re quiet for a moment, both soaking in each others warmth until Jeongin speaks again.
“What about Changbin-hyung?”
“Didn’t he seem off to you?”
Hyunjin shrugs. Anyone could have been able to tell something was wrong there but he most
definitely wasn’t going to touch that one with a six foot pole.
“Whatever it is,” he says, pausing for a second to yawn. “Whatever it is, Lix will solve it.
Either that or it’ll explode, I really don’t give a shit.”
Jeongin hums and he seems to settle against Hyunjin once again. The room is quiet for a few
more minutes before Jeongin speaks up again.
“Did you find out before or after you committed incest?”
Hyunjin huffs. “Innie, we’re not talking about this anymore. You’re not to say the word incest
ever again, got it?”
“Okay, okay…I promise I won’t say the word again.”
The room is silent for another 30 seconds before Jeongin speaks again.
“Brother-Fucker.”
Hyunjin groans and flicks the light on. Jeongin’s still laughing as he rolls out of bed and
makes a point of grumpily taking his pillow with him.
“That’s it. I’m sleeping on the couch.”
He can still hear Jeongin’s giggling even as he closes the door behind himself.
The bed is enormous but foreign. The room is surprisingly quiet too. Changbin and Felix are
curled together in the centre of the bed, Felix’s head on Changbin’s chest and their hands
entwined next to them.
The silence is unnerving. Hyunjin had somehow managed to find an area that was so high up
that even the noise of the traffic didn’t reach them. At least back in Australia, there was
always some kind of noise.
But here? Dead silence.
Felix shifts a little and readjusts his head on Changbin’s chest. The sound of his beating heart
under his ear is comforting and he squeezes Changbin’s hand.
“Bin?”
“Mm?”
“I can’t sleep.”
The blankets shift and Changbin’s chest rises and falls beneath Felix’s head as the other sighs
into the darkness of their room.
“Neither.”
Felix lifts his head. In the darkness of the room, his eyes adjust quickly to see the outline of
Changbin’s face and he reaches a hand up to touch his cheek.
He’s not stupid. He knows Changbin is depressed. He even regrets telling Changbin the truth
about his mother, all it did was bring Changbin misery.
They’d made a go of it, they’d really tried. They’d tried to carry on with life as normal, get
jobs, contribute to society, live together pretending that God’s Menu had never happened but
it was impossible. Changbin couldn’t forgive himself for killing Felix’s mother, even under
orders and Felix couldn’t just carry on and forget God’s Menu. He couldn’t forget Chan or
Jeongin or anyone else.
He missed it. Even with the horrors of what was going on in the freezer, he missed it all and
he knew Changbin did too.
They mourned and they did it quietly until it broke them and when Felix looked up,
Changbin was depressed. Almost suicidally so. Even now he flinched with every touch, shied
away from Felix as if the only thing keeping him there was the simple knowledge that Felix
didn’t want him to leave.
But he was at odds with himself and he couldn’t forgive himself. He was punishing himself
and Felix could see it.
Leaning in, Felix presses a small kiss to Changbin’s lips. The other kisses back gently before
Felix pulls back to look at his face again.
“Do you think it’ll get better here?” he asks, his fingers trailing along Changbin’s face. “I
know it’s a gang but…but it’s more familiar to us than trying to live normal lives in Sydney.
Maybe this is where we’re meant to be.”
Changbin sighs, his head turns and his loose grip on Felix’s waist tightens for just a moment.
“I’m not sure we’re meant to be anywhere,” he admits after a quiet moment. “Hyunjin and
Innie are familiar but everything else…everyone else…they’re all gone.”
“I know, but we have to try something,” Felix points out, almost desperate as he touches
Changbin’s face and gently turns his face to look at him again. “Bin…I wish you’d talk to
me. You’ve been closing up on me and I know you’re depressed. Just let me in, let me help
you.”
The look on Changbin’s face tells Felix everything. Changbin isn’t even sure if Felix can help
and maybe he’s right. Maybe Felix can’t do a thing but he feels helpless for not even trying.
Eventually, Changbin’s warm hand rises and gently touches Felix’s cheek. He strokes his
cheek with the pad of his thumb and with his other hand, pulls Felix closer until he’s lying on
him again with his head on Changbin’s chest.
“Sleep, Lix,” Changbin whispers, his hand stroking Felix’s hair. “I love you.”
Felix curls up on Changbin and closes his eyes. He feels like crying.
BANG CHRISTOPHER CHAN
1997 - 2022
The sound of chirping birds floats over the quiet cemetery in a way that makes the area seem
almost tranquil. In the private area reserved only for the Bang family, Chan’s tombstone
stands quietly, almost unassuming, unnoticeable. Where his relatives have large tombstones
in the shapes of crosses and angels, Chan’s tombstone is modest, small and dark.
Felix leans down to place a fresh bouquet gently against it. He runs his fingers gently over
the engraving of Chan’s name and gently sits squats down next to it.
“Hey Chan.”
Behind him, Hyunjin remains standing. He looks over Chan’s name and takes a slow, deep
breath. The day is warm but somehow in this area of death and tombstones, the air seems
chilly. He pulls his trenchcoat closer to himself and gives Felix space.
Further back, Changbin looks over Chan’s name and swallows hard. He feels his eyes burn
and looks away in an attempt to control himself.
“Did as you asked,” Felix tells the stone quietly. “Left and didn’t come back. For over a year,
we stayed in Australia just like you told us to.”
Hyunjin feels another cool breeze brush his hair, sneak underneath to touch the nape of his
neck and he shivers. He closes his eyes and he can remember the fuss that was made over
Chan’s funeral. He’d kept himself at a distance, made sure no one saw him but he watched it
all unfold.
The morning Chan was found dead was the morning the news about God’s Menu broke all
over the world. Chan had protected his staff but he hadn’t protected himself and the victims,
the public, everyone went for him. When they found out they couldn’t go for him, they went
after his father.
Chan’s funeral was not without incident. Several incidents. Angry siblings, angry parents,
relatives of the victims wanted Chan strung up from the highest building for what he’d done.
The consequences of all the victims spread far and wide. Hyunjin learnt of at least fifteen
fake venues for where Chan’s funeral would be before he found the real one.
He’d kept himself away as Chan’s wife and the people who loved him quietly said goodbye
to him. He kept his distance as he watched them bury Chan and it was a very long time
before they were able to give him a tombstone out of fear that his final resting place would be
desecrated by an angry mob.
Something tells Hyunjin that Chan really wouldn’t have cared what they did to his ashes. If
they pissed in it, threw him into the sea or whatever. He can already hear Chan’s voice in his
head too.
“So? I’m dead, they can do whatever they like with me. Not like I’ll feel it.”
The real champion of protecting Chan’s ashes, his plot, everything was actually Kaeun.
Kaeun had booked sixteen venues for Chan’s funeral to confuse the angry mob. It was Kaeun
who kept Chan’s ashes safe until she was sure no one would come for him and it was Kaeun
who oversaw the creation of his tombstone.
“I miss you so much, you wouldn’t believe,” Felix confesses. A tear slips down his cheek as
he brushes his fingers over Chan’s name once more. “You once…told me you were never
going to leave me behind. You said that.”
Hyunjin averts his eyes, behind him Changbin is biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt
to control his emotions. To block himself out but it seems harder now that he’s standing in
front of Chan. It was easier when it was just Felix, he’s an expert at keeping his emotions
from Felix but Chan…he never did manage that.
“And I know you couldn’t have controlled any of this, Chan, but I was so angry at you. For
the longest time, I was angry at you and the worst part is that I think you would have just
accepted that. You would have just told me I was allowed to be angry at you for what you
did.”
Wiping at his face with his sleeve, Felix takes a shaky breath and rests his forehead against
the stone.
He takes a moment. Quiet seems to fall over the cemetery and neither Hyunjin nor Changbin
speak to break it. Felix just cries silently, takes a few breaths and holds the side of Chan’s
tombstone as if it’s the only thing keeping him up.
Perhaps it is.
“I just want you to know that I’m okay,” Felix says, his voice quieter as he speaks to Chan’s
tombstone alone. “I’m okay because you made sure of it. You looked after me, shielded me
and right until the end, you made sure nothing could touch me. You left me behind but at the
same time, it feels like you didn’t. It still feels like you’re guarding me, that’s the effect you
have on me.”
Running his thumb one more time over Chan’s name, Felix gently pats the stone and gets
back up onto his feet. He finally turns back and goes to stand next to Hyunjin. For a moment,
Hyunjin is almost concerned Felix is going to ask him to say something to the stone too but
he doesn’t, instead Felix seems content to just stand there in silent contemplation.
“Shall we go?” Felix finally asks after a few moments.
Hyunjin nods and Felix turns around to look at Changbin, who is still trying to look at
anything but them and the tombstone.
“Bin, you coming?”
“You go,” Changbin says, his tone forced and uncomfortable as he swallows a lump in his
throat. “I’ll meet you at the house later. I think I’ll stay here a bit longer.”
Hyunjin watches as Felix goes to press a kiss to Changbin’s cheek. Once upon a time, Felix
showing any kind of affection to Changbin would have had the other blushing and stuttering
and stumbling over himself in the most ridiculous way. These days he looks like he’s just
silently suffering through it.
Hyunjin doesn’t care enough to ask about it and when he’s sure Felix is done, he nods his
head and leads the other out of the area, down the path and away from the cemetery.
A cool breeze rustles the leaves of the trees nearby. Changbin pulls his coat closer to himself
and slowly walks towards Chan’s tombstone. The engraving seems to glint under the sunlight
as Changbin slowly sits down in front of the stone and watches Chan’s name.
He can’t think of anything to say. There’s really nothing to say. Not to a stone. It’s not like
Chan’s really there, watching him and it’s not like he’d be able to offer him any answers
either. For the last year and a half, Changbin had resolved to stay with Felix despite what
he’d done to his mother.
And it hadn’t been easy.

Felix was always desperate to keep him close but the fact that they were back in Australia
meant Felix was always constantly reminded of her. Places he used to go to with her, every
time he saw his sisters and his father, everything that brought her back. Both of them reacted
to those reminders, Felix felt depressed and Changbin’s well of guilt just grew deeper.
It didn’t help Changbin at all that Felix had his sisters and his father right there. It helped
Felix to have them but Changbin just felt guilt whenever he looked at them and knew they
knew what had happened. It surprised him that they never brought it up, never talked to him
about it and instead pretended that it hadn’t happened. Perhaps they only did that because
they knew Felix loved him.
Changbin missed Chan and Jisung. The hole that they’d left was excruciatingly painful and
every morning when Changbin woke up and remembered they weren’t there and he couldn’t
just go and see them or message them, he felt a small part of him die. Chan and Jisung, who
had been such massive staples in his life, snatched away so quickly it made his head spin.
To say that the last year and a half had been a special kind of toxic hell would be an
understatement. The only thing that kept Changbin there was the knowledge that Felix didn’t
want him to leave yet and he’d promised he’d stay.
When they were good, they were really good. They’d laugh, go on dates, explore the world
with each other. The amount of bad days far outweighed the good ones but the good ones
were enough to convince both of them that they had a chance. Somewhere, somehow there
was a chance for them.
But now that they’re back, Changbin already knows what he needs to do. He’s planned for it.
His bag is ready at the apartment, all he has to do is get it and leave. Without him, Felix will
heal. He’ll be fine with Hyunjin and Jeongin. Without Changbin, without the constant
reminder of what he’d done, Felix will be fine.
And Changbin…
He doesn’t need Changbin anymore. He’d be better off without him.
Maybe he’ll be okay if Changbin leaves him this time. Maybe he’ll finally heal. Maybe he
won’t bat an eye when he later hears how Changbin shot himself in the head. Changbin’s
certainly been thinking about doing something like that for months now and it’s the only plan
that makes sense to him now.
Without Felix, without Chan and without Jisung…what else is there?
A distant sound pulls him out of his thoughts. Changbin turns to see someone coming
towards him and he pushes himself up onto his feet. He turns around to see Kaeun walking
towards him dressed in a white blouse and grey pencil skirt designed to show off her long
legs. Her hair is longer, tied back loosely. Still pretty but something’s different about her. She
seems somehow…more mature.
“You took your sweet time,” she sighs as she approaches Changbin. “Do you know how long
I’ve been waiting for you to come back?”
Changbin frowns in confusion. “...you’ve been waiting?”
Kaeun turns to point at a nearby tree and at first glance Changbin has no idea what she’s
pointing at but then the sun’s rays reflect off something shiny and reveal a tiny camera
wedged into the bark.
“What…?!”
“One last favour I owed him,” Kaeun huffs as she turns back to Changbin and reaches into
her bag for something. “Actually, Chan had a long list of things I needed to do for him when
he died. Pay off the right people to make sure no one ever thinks to ask who worked at God’s
Menu, send guards out to discreetly watch over people-”
“I was being watched?” Changbin asks, he’s not sure how to react to that. “In Australia?”
“Yes, for the first year or so. Chan wanted to make sure no one would come after you two
and hurt you…where the fuck did I put that thing?” she mutters, her hand digging around the
bag. She huffs and pulls it off her shoulder so she can look through it properly. “Not just you
though, Hwang Hyunjin and Kim Seungmin were being watched as well. Just to make sure
nothing happened.”
With a triumphant ‘AHA’, Kaeun pulls a small USB out of her bag and hands it to Changbin.
It’s just a simple black USB stick but at the end, he sees a small silver keychain hanging off it
in the shape of what appears to be either a worm or a dinosaur…with a crown.
“What’s this?”
“No idea,” Kaeun shrugs. “Didn’t bother looking through it. Chan’s will said that I had to
hang onto that until it was safe for you to come back to South Korea. I’ve been keeping an
eye on his grave and I came here the second I saw you and your little blonde Australian were
here.”
“His name is Felix.”
“The little bitch who slapped me, yes,” Kaeun pulls her bag back up onto her shoulder and
sighs in relief. “And with that, my duties to Chan have been fulfilled. I can finally do what I
want.”
“Which is what?” Changbin asks as he pockets the USB. “Lifetime shopping spree?”
“Anthropology,” Kaeun retorts with a small smile.
Changbin blinks. He doesn’t know what happened to Kaeun in the time she’s been here since
Chan’s death but she’s not the same person she was before. Distance from her father
combined with Chan’s gentle advice had actually affected her and what stood before him was
someone who’d had enough time to grow into her own independence.
Chan would have liked her.
“Goodbye, Seo Changbin,” Kaeun nods with a satisfied smile. “I hope the USB gives you the
answers you’re looking for.”
With that, she turns on her heels and leaves the cemetery as quickly as she’d arrived.
Another cool breeze washes gently over the cemetery and Changbin pulls the USB out to
look over it again. He turns back to the stone and frowns at Chan’s name.
“What are you up to?”
Only another breeze answers him. He puts the USB back in his pocket, looks over Chan’s
name one more time and turns to head home.
The maximum-security section of the penitentiary rarely allows visitors. More than a few
strings had had to be pulled to allow this and even the guards look surprised as the doors to
the meeting room open to allow Felix and Hyunjin to stoll in together.
The former Prime Minister, former billionaire tycoon and former respected Mr Bang sits at
the table. There’s a glass partition between visitor and prisoner and for safety, Mr Bang’s
hands are perched on the table in plain sight. His jumpsuit is a dark moss green, the look in
his weathered eyes more than a little suspicious as he watches Hyunjin and Felix take their
seats on the other side of the table.
Silence drags between them for a moment, all three eyeing each other up and somewhere at
the door, the guard starts to feel uncomfortable.
“Do you remember us?” Felix asks, his tone light and casual as sharp eyes take in the figure
of the man who’d haunted the Korean media for years.
Mr Bang huffs. “You two worked for my son at that godforsaken restaurant. Of course I
remember that.”
“I’m not talking about the restaurant,” Felix replies. “I’m talking about before that. Before
God’s Menu was ever built, before you ever tried becoming the President, do you remember
us?”
“Of course I don’t,” Mr Bang frowns. “Why would I remember insignificant little shits like
you two?”
Hyunjin leans back in his chair, he crosses one long leg over the other and Felix smiles. Over
the last year, Hyunjin seems to have mastered the art of appearing comfortable in any given
setting, even in a place like this. His eyes, sharp as ever and darker, seem to pierce Mr Bang
and both don’t miss the way the man shivers in response.
“I remember you,” he confesses, pointing one finger at Hyunjin. “You’re the one who made
the news. Shook the world when you murdered your father.”
“Allegedly,” Hyunjin reminds the man coldly. “No one could ever prove it, could they?”
“But I know you did it,” Mr Bang shoots back. “I remember it because it was hilarious. The
world lost their heads not over the fact that you’d killed your own father, but because you
were so pretty. Show the world a pretty face and watch them lose their goddamn minds.”
Felix remembers Hyunjin saying the exact same thing.
“So why are you two here?” Mr Bang continues, his eyes looking over both boys tiredly. “If
you’re here to ask me questions about my son-”
“We’re not here for that,” Felix says, cutting him off quickly. “We’re here for us.”
Mr Bang doesn’t seem to be getting it because his face grows from slightly annoyed to
confused. Thick eyebrows knit together in confusion as he looks over Hyunjin first, then
Felix.
“I don’t understand.”
“You are the father of the year, honestly,” Hyunjin drawls, completely unimpressed. “Make
that the father of the century. Do you really think you know everything Chan kept from you?”
“I knew my son,” Mr Bang flares defensively. “Better than he could ever dream. I knew
about the disgusting things he used to do with Kim Hongjoong, I knew about Lee Minho.
There was nothing my son could keep from me-”
“Except maybe everything he used to bury you alive,” Felix points out. “Except for maybe…
the fact that he was hiding the biggest scandal in plain sight. You didn’t know shit, sir. You
can barely remember us.”
“Like I said, why should I remember insignificant little shits like you?”
“Because the world already knows what kind of a scumball you are, but there’s one thing
they never found out,” Hyunjin continues boredly. “Those secretaries you fucked when you
were still working at Uisim? The ones you sent cease and desist letters to?”
“Those women were delusional-”
“Those women went away and gave birth to your two illegitimate sons,” Hyunjin finishes, his
hand flicking up with a flourish. “Ta-da. Congratulations daddy.”
They’re both close enough to see the way Mr Bang frowns, his mind clearly trying to connect
the dots but when they do, he pales. He pales and his eyes grow wide as he looks over
Hyunjin first, then Felix.
“You’re lying-”
“A while ago, one of the guards called you in for a routine medical check and took some
blood,” Felix reminds him boredly. “The results haven’t come out yet but I’m willing to bet
they’re going to point to you.”
Mr Bang seems to have a look of permanent disbelief plastered onto his face. He spends a
few extra moments looking from Hyunjin to Felix, then back to Hyunjin again. He takes in
their features, the traits they’d inherited from their mothers and the parts that could be his
own. He’d found Felix’s mother in Australia and he’d asked her to come back but he hadn’t
realised she’d actually given birth to his son.
He huffs in disbelief.
“So what do you want?” he asks. “Money?”
“As if you have any,” Hyunjin points out with a scrunch of his nose.
“I don’t want anything from you, you monstrous bastard,” Felix sneers. “I just want you to
know that we exist. You fucked up and we exist and if you thought you could just quietly rot
away in your private cell, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“You can’t-”
“I can,” Hyunjin counters with a shit-eating grin. “Who do you think owns half the guards in
this place? Not to mention a lot of the most dangerous inmates? It really doesn’t take much to
convince the chief commissioner that you need to be out with the other inmates.”
They watch Mr Bang’s eyes widen and Hyunjin seems to take special pleasure at the sight of
it.
“A few well placed words here and there,” Hyunjin shrugs. “Talk to the right guys, mention
your name and ooh…not even the guards I don’t own can save you from what those guys are
gonna do to you.”
“What do you two want?” Mr Bang asks, his tone a little more desperate as he starts to realise
who holds the cards here. “I have money, I have influence, I can-”
“Whatever old man, you lost all of that the second Chan burnt you at the stake,” Hyunjin
snorts. “You’ve got fuck all to offer us and nothing we want. All we want is the knowledge
that you’re going to suffer…which you will when we leave and you’re transferred to a public
prison.”
Mr Bang looks at Felix and his face isn’t any more promising. If anything, the tears welling
in his eyes and the murderous look on his face is even worse.
“You killed my mother,” Felix hisses. “What’s about to happen to you will be excruciatingly
painful and horrible but it’s still lightyears better than what I would do to you if I got my
hands on you.”
Hyunjin just smiles.
“Well then,” he announces as he rises to his feet. “I believe we’re done here. I would like you
to know that when all the horrible shit happens to you in prison - and it will - I’ll be there to
make sure that you survive every hospital visit so you can go back out there and have it done
to you over and over again until your heart finally gives out. Then I’ll make sure your ashes
are put somewhere extremely unremarkable and forgettable so the stain that is your existence
can finally be wiped from the earth. Okay?”
Both of them rise to their full height and as they do, Mr Bang stares at them both in horror
and awe.
They look so much like their mothers. But that cruelty in them both…that’s entirely from
him.
Changbin pushes his laptop open and waits impatiently for the screen to wake up. The USB
seems to burn in his fingers and he sticks it in the second his laptop is awake enough. As he
clicks into the folder, he frowns at the sight of a single video file.
He looks around. Felix isn’t back yet. He’ll probably never get used to living in a Wolgang
Pa apartment but at least no one batted an eye when Hyunjin gave them this place. It’s too
close to headquarters but it’s safe…if the bulky guards standing at the door are of any
indication.
Outside the window, he can hear the distant sound of traffic. Jeongin is somewhere
‘downstairs’ and Changbin doesn’t want to know any more than that. It feels too familiar and
if Jeongin is down there mutilating people and turning them into food, he’s better off not
knowing.
He takes a deep breath and, with his heart racing, opens the video file.
The first thing he sees is Chan’s face, but it’s younger. He hasn’t had blonde highlights like
that since…
Changbin glances at the date on the corner of the screen and pales. This video was taken
when Chan was nineteen years old.
He recognises the bedroom. It’s where Chan used to live with his father, not too long after his
return from Australia. As Chan pulls back from the camera, looking much more alive than he
had been in his later years, Changbin chokes at the sight of sixteen year old Jisung sitting on
the end of Chan’s four poster bed and his seventeen year old self sitting on the floor right
next to Jisung’s foot.
Both he and Jisung are still dressed in school uniform.
Chan carefully sets the camera on a shelf so it has a full view of his room and all three
occupants. Changbin feels a lump in his throat, tears stinging his eyes at the sight of the three
of them, that old bedroom and how young they were at the time.
“Okay,” Chan says, a satisfied grin on his face as he goes to jump onto the end of the bed.
“Camera’s all set up.”
“Why does this feel strangely familiar?” Jisung asks as he closes his textbook and glances at
the camera.
“I dunno, Han,” Changbin comments dryly. “Is there something familiar about a camera
being pointed at your bed? Is there something you’re not telling us?”
Chan snorts. “Han, baby, I hate to tell you this but you’re way too young for pornography.”
Jisung pouts and throws his book at Chan who laughs and bats it out of the way.
“No! I mean the camera!” Jisung exclaims defensively, his finger pointing at the camera lens.
“I haven’t forgotten what happened the last time you assholes had a camera! Do you know
how long it took to fix my hair after you two fucked it up?!”
Changbin isn’t talking, he’s already flat on the floor laughing into the carpet. Chan is curled
up on the end of the bed, his laughter echoing in the room. When he finally lifts his head, he’s
still giggling in that carefree way Changbin hasn’t heard in years. Chan lost the ability to
laugh like that shortly after God’s Menu was formed.
“Oh fuck,” Chan gasps when he has enough air in his lungs. “That was classic. Did we take a
picture of your hair?”
“Several,” Changbin announces, flicking his phone up to show Chan the screen.
“You two are dicks,” Jisung pouts. “Why do I hang out with you guys?”
“Because you love us,” Chan giggles, his arms coming out to wrap around Jisung’s
shoulders. Jisung tries to struggle but it’s halfhearted and after a moment, he lets Chan pull
him into a hug.
Chan chuckles and strokes Jisung’s hair back from his face. “You love us and you clearly
can’t live without us. You’re so needy.”
Jisung coughs and paws at Chan’s arms. “Says…the needy one…”
“Anyway, why do we have the camera on?” Changbin asks as Jisung finally manages to
extract himself from Chan’s arms. “Are we doing something today?”
“As a matter of fact, we are,” Chan announces proudly. “We’re going to the zoo today.”
Jisung and Changbin have identical expressions of surprise and confusion.
“Uh…” Changbin blinks. “Why?”
“Because animals are the shit,” Chan says. “They’re cool and it beats bumming around here
all day like we usually do. So we’re gonna go to the zoo, take the camera with us and look at
all the cool animals.”
Jisung blinks. “I mean…it’s not a bad idea I just…this is random. Why do you suddenly want
to go to the zoo?”
“Do teenage guys even go to the zoo?” Changbin asks. “The last time I went to one was in
elementary school. We had little flags and everything, this seems like something kids do.”
“Everyone goes to the zoo,” Chan points out. “And besides, we’re not even adults yet. We’re
almost adults but not yet. Even when we become adults, I’m still going to insist on us doing
shit like this and do you know why?”
“Because you’re impulsive as fuck?”
“Because you don’t wanna turn twenty in two months?”
“Because the last thing I want is for us to grow old and think we’re too old to do things,”
Chan answers, his eyes on them both now as he drops a little bit of the playfulness he had
before. His eyes are sincere and both Jisung and Changbin, as if it’s ingrained into their
systems, automatically pay attention to him.
“Even when you’re in your thirties, you’re not too old to do ‘kid’ things. You’re only as old
as you feel and act so let’s go be kids,” Chan says, a warm smile brightening his face again.
“Please? They just got some fennec foxes and I wanna see them.”
“Alright,” Jisung agrees easily. “Let’s go see some animals then.”
Changbin nods but he’s quiet. Jisung may not have been able to pick up on it but Changbin
did. Chan’s decision to go to the zoo that day hadn’t been about impulse. But Changbin never
figured it out because at the time, Chan never told him.
The scene flicks and Changbin recognises Jisung’s face half covered by a black face mask.
He’s glances at the camera and shows it a peace sign before flicking it around to show the
path he’s walking on. In the distance, Changbin can see himself and Chan walking a little
ahead of Jisung, the enclosures on either side showing animals in their small habitats for
people to see.
They pass by a few children out with their parents, some college students and more children
and as they near a particular enclosure, Jisung lets out a gasp at the sight of the walrus
lounging near the pool area..
“Bin!” he squeals. “It’s your family!”
Chan cracks up laughing, he jumps out of the way of Changbin’s offended swipe and
stumbles off to laugh as Changbin turns around to glare half-heartedly at the camera.
Undeterred, Jisung’s finger appears on the camera view as he points at the walrus.
“Look! It’s your dad! You look just like him!”
The camera blurs and starts wobbling as Jisung then runs, camera and all, from Changbin.
The scene shifts again and this time Chan’s holding the camera. Changbin can hear him
laughing as in the distance, Jisung is standing near an enclosure and waving his arms
furiously. There’s a pair of little kids near him who are watching him like he’s a lunatic but
Jisung pays no mind to either of them as he’s waving at the little quokka’s inside.
“Mum! Dad! It’s me, your son!” he shouts at the confused animals. “I’m home!”
The camera pans to Changbin who has his arms folded, a fond and amused look on his face.
The scene moves on and Changbin notices that Chan is the one holding the camera for the
rest of the trip. He films Changbin and Jisung, both of whom end up enjoying the trip
entirely. Jisung imitates the animals and Changbin has one moment where he has a full on
conversation with a giraffe about the meaning of life (according to Chan, it’s 42 but the joke
falls flat because neither Changbin nor Jisung have ever seen Monty Python - much to
Chan’s horror.)
The scene cuts out suddenly halfway through the trip and Changbin notes the date in the
corner of the screen this time is much, much later. The screen shows a room and it takes
Changbin a moment to recognise the bookshelf at the wall. It’s Chan’s office in God’s Menu.
Chan appears in view and Changbin recognises the bags under his eyes, the unhealthy pale
glow of his skin. It’s not that long before Jeongin appeared in the restaurant. Back then, Chan
tended to always look sick and overworked. Changbin remembers that.
“Okay,” Chan says after a moment of thinking. “I’m making this for…posterity, I suppose.
One day when you see this, you’ll probably be really angry at me and I don’t blame you but I
wanted to…” he pauses, his eyes shifting off camera for a moment before he shakes his head.
“I don’t know what I’m trying to do here…I probably shouldn’t have even tried to do this but
I needed to…I wanted to…”
He pauses again and Changbin notes how pale he is. How sick he looks. He frowns as Chan
appears to look more troubled and lost than he ever allowed himself to look in front of
anyone else, even Changbin and Jisung.
“Fuck it,” Chan mutters, his hand coming out to switch the camera off.
The next scene is still in the office but Chan looks a little better. His hair is a little damp and
his clothes have changed but he’s still pale and sickly looking.
“I’m sick,” he tells the camera. “I just found out yesterday. That’s why I tried to make this
video but I was in no state to do it yesterday.”
Changbin frowns. He remembers Chan had a few days of looking like shit back then but he
pegged it down to stress and exhaustion, not because he was actually sick.
“I’ve had all night to think about what I’m going to do now,” Chan says. “And the first thing
I decided is that I’m not going to get treatment. It won’t save me and it’ll only make me sick,
my hair will fall out, I’ll be in the hospital all the time and I can’t allow that to happen. Not
with what my father is planning on doing.”
Changbin’s frown deepens. Had Felix known about this? Is this why Felix knew right away
that Chan had really died when it took Changbin weeks, if not months, to come to terms with
it? Is this why Minho was so upset that time and had to stay away from Chan for a few days?
Why Jeongin was suddenly so careful around Chan?
It’s like the pieces of a long lost puzzle start coming together and Changbin’s stomach drops
in response, his heart drops as the full realisation of what Chan had been going through hits
him all at once. The truth that Chan had been sick that whole time and that Chan must have
ended his own life to avoid dying of this illness.
“You two might be angry at me…actually you will be. You’ll be furious when you see this,”
Chan continues. “But I want you both to know that no matter what happens, I will always do
everything I can to make sure all of you come out of this. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll
figure it out. No matter what, you’re my endgame. Both of you are.”
The scene shifts and Changbin can’t stop thinking about all the times he saw Chan suffering
from headaches. All the times Chan looked like he was too sick to get up in the morning, all
the times he wanted to ask but knew that Chan would just brush him off.
The next scene is still in Chan’s office but it’s darker. His face is illuminated by what
Changbin can only assume is a laptop screen. The date is just a few days after Jisung and
Minho died.
“Changbin,” Chan says quietly as he looks at the camera. “I know this isn’t going to be easy
for you to hear but you’re all that’s left of us now. I’m going to send you away with Felix
tomorrow but before I do that, you have the right to know a few things.”
He winces, his hand coming up to delicately touch his head. Changbin almost loses his breath
at the sight. He should have known.
“First of all,” Chan continues, hissing a little as the pain in his head is beyond painkillers at
this point. “First of all…I want you to know that there is no one else in this world I would
trust Felix with more. I believe you love him and you will protect him. I just want you to
know that you can’t kill yourself over what we did to his mother.
“We didn’t know it was her. Maybe one day we’re all going to burn in hell for the lives we
took but I’m not going to regret a thing. My end goal was to destroy my father and ensure he
can never be president - we’ve done that. I won’t regret the steps we had to take to earn his
trust and get there. I’m the one who looked at the risks, at what we’d have to do and I’m the
one who made that call. Not you. She is dead because of my father and because of me, not
you.”
Changbin closes his eyes and hangs his head. He sniffles and wipes at his eyes with his
sleeve. It’s overwhelming hearing Chan speak to him like this.
“I added that day we went to the zoo because I was just reminded of the real reason why I
made us go there,” Chan continues with a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I told you
it was because I wanted you guys to do whatever you want without worrying about what
other people might think of you - and that’s still true but the real reason was because I had a
nightmare the night before. I dreamt I’d died and left you and Han alone…it felt so real. Now
that I know I’m dying, I wonder if it was half a premonition…”
Changbin pulls his face out of his hands and watches the pained look on Chan’s face. It hurts
but it’s comforting to know he’s there. Even this close to the end, he thought of Changbin.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye to you. You don’t know I’m dying and tomorrow when I drop
you off at the airport, you won’t have any idea,” Chan says quietly. “I might even be dead by
the time you reach Australia. So this is my goodbye and my wish. Whether it’s with or
without Felix, live a happy life, Bin. Do it because Han and I can’t. And when it’s your turn,
when you’re really old, we’ll come back for you. Han and I, we’ll see you at the bitter end.”
Chan’s eyes meet the lens and he smiles, this time a genuine smile.
“You can’t go back, Bin. But you can move forward. That’s all I want for you.”
And with a wave, he’s gone.
Hyunjin and Felix return to the apartment sometime after the sun sets and night cloaks itself
over the city. Pushing the front door open first, Felix holds it open for Hyunjin and pulls
himself out of his shoes as Hyunjin wanders in and looks around.
“Innie!” he calls as he shrugs his shoes off and makes his way towards the living room.
“Baby bread, where are you?”
Felix follows him in just in time to see Jeongin, dressed in white and covered in specks of
blood, rush out from the bedroom and gleefully jump up into Hyunjin’s arms. Hyunjin
doesn’t seem at all bothered or surprised by the blood as he pulls Jeongin into a kiss, one
hand on the back of his head and the other holding Jeongin up.
In the most murderous way, Felix realises, Hyunjin and Jeongin are absolutely perfect for
each other - and horrible for the rest of the world.
“Mm, I see you’ve been playing with your toys again,” Hyunjin teases as he sets Jeongin
back down onto his feet. He nods to the blood splatters. “You’re so messy when you play.
You know I can’t scrub bloodstains out of white material, what am I gonna do with you?”
Jeongin just looks manic, his smile wide and eyes glittering as he shrugs and loops his arms
around Hyunjin’s shoulders. “You’re just gonna have to punish me.”
Hyunjin clicks his tongue in faux-annoyance. “Brat.”
Felix kind of wishes he wasn’t here to witness this almost psychotic display of affection but
then Jeongin looks away from Hyunjin and to him instead. He waves and in his eyes, Felix
can almost see the innocent Innie. Specks of him underneath all that blood.
“Hi Felix!”
Felix waves and watches as Hyunjin leans over and hauls Jeongin up onto his shoulder.
Jeongin’s shrieks of laughter echo in the room as he’s suddenly carried away from Felix and
towards the bedroom.
“Nuh uh, you can play with Lix later, Innie,” Hyunjin announces, one hand smacking
Jeongin’s ass as he carries him. “You think I forgot about that stunt you pulled last night?
When I’m done with you, you’ll be lucky if you can walk without waddling.”
Jeongin’s giggles don’t stop, not even when the bedroom door shuts behind them. Felix
winces and looks away in time to see Changbin approaching him.
“Hey,” Felix smiles, cautious as usual as he walks up to Changbin. “You alright?”
Changbin loops his arms gently around Felix’s middle and pulls him in close. He holds him
in a close embrace and for a moment, Felix just melts into him. But when Changbin doesn’t
let him go, Felix slips his arms around him and frowns in concern.
“Bin?”
Changbin breathes in deep and lets out a slow, shaky breath.
“I love you,” he whispers into Felix’s hair.
“I love you too? But why…?”
“I was going to leave you. I was going to give up on us and leave you here…probably go to
my parents old mansion and shoot myself in the head. I had it all planned.”
Felix gasps but he doesn’t pull back. He can’t. Changbin is holding him tight and he’s
shaking as he speaks.
“But…I want to try again. One more time, I want to really make this last. I want to start
again.”
Changbin pulls back and Felix watches the watery emotion in his eyes. The genuine feeling
he hasn’t felt from Changbin in months. It almost takes him by complete surprise to see it
again, Changbin. His Changbin and not the tortured and suicidal ghost he’d become over the
last year.
It’s really him.
It’s him and with renewed energy (albeit a little scared) Changbin nods and holds Felix’s
hands. He rests his forehead against Felix’s and takes a deep breath.
“Let’s start again,” he says. “Will you have me?”
Felix just smiles and pulls him in closer.
“Always,” he promises. “We’re home now. We’ll be okay.”
Changbin doesn’t know whether being here will make it better. Felix doesn’t really know
either but something in the way he says it, in the conviction behind his words makes
Changbin want to believe that despite Wolgang Pa, despite Hyunjin and Jeongin’s psychotic
tendencies, despite everything, he and Felix will somehow be okay.
He pulls Felix into another embrace and the tighter Felix holds him, the more he can believe
it.
They will be okay.
2 Months Later
The drawing room is silent, tense as Hwang Hyunjin enters the room. The men of Wolgang
Pa sit in their seats, backs straight, eyes forward and attentive as Hyunjin takes a seat at the
head of the long meeting table.
It’s a special kind of meeting today. Every nerve in the room is on edge as the men slowly
look down at the covered plates in front of them. Their sajangnim has never fed them before.
“Gentlemen,” Hyunjin says as all eyes turn to him. “Is this all of us?”
The men look around and one is brave enough to raise his hand.
“Uhm…no sajangnim, Kawasaki is still absent,” he points out with a gesture to the empty
seat at the back of the table. “Should we wait…?”
“No need,” Hyunjin cuts him off gently. “Gentlemen. Be at ease. All of you are my loyal
department heads. There’s no need to be so nervous around me, I’m not about to jump up and
shoot you all in the head.”
Hyunjin isn’t the type. His leadership style has always been intimidatingly calm. Calm but
when he’s angry, when someone crosses him, he strikes like a snake. Fast and venomous with
no warning. That’s why they’re all on edge. It’s not unusual for Hyunjin to call a meeting
with all of them, but it is unusual for him to feed them.
They all suspect poison.
With a flourish, Hyunjin takes the cover off his plate and the men follow to do the same.
There on their plates is a perfectly cooked steak with mashed potatoes, peas and gravy. The
scent hits their noses all at once and it’s almost tantalising how good it looks.
Even more suspicious.
“It occurs to me that you gentlemen are in need of a reward every now and then,” Hyunjin
explains. “For all the hard work and loyalty you prove to Wolgang Pa. So please, eat and be
at ease. I’m not going to poison you, none of you are going to be killed today.”
As if to prove it, Hyunjin picks up his fork and starts in on the steak first. The men watch as
he cuts a piece off, puts it into his mouth and chews. When he swallows, their anxiety starts
to ease as they look down at their own plates hopefully.
Hyunjin picks up his wine glass and toasts to them. “Dig in, gentlemen.”
They do. Manners and caution is thrown to the wind as all of them dig in ravenously. As they
do, the door opens and Hyunjin watches as Felix comes in with a tray of wine glasses. One
by one, he hands them out to everyone at the table and when he hands out the last one, he
shoots Hyunjin a small smile and heads out of the room just as quickly as he’d entered it.
“Your chef is amazing, sajangnim!” one of the men says, his mouth half full of veal even as
he speaks. “This is so juicy!”
“Whoever cooks for you, they’re…wow,” another comments, moaning as he digs into the
meat a little more. “God this is good.”
Hyunjin smiles, he rests his chin gently on his hands and watches them all eat.
Then one of the men at the end of the table laughs. “God, Kawasaki picked a hell of a day not
to attend a meeting!” he comments happily. “His loss!”
“Yeah! What terrible timing!”
“Fucker is missing the best food…”
“Can I have his share?”
Hyunjin just smiles. He watches as every plate is cleared and licked clean. Every glass is
emptied and when the men are finally satisfied and happy, their stomachs full of the meal, he
picks up his wine glass and empties it in one gulp.
“Sajangnim,” one of them says as he puts the glass down. “Is there a reason Kawasaki isn’t
here? We all know to put off any plans if our sajangnim calls a meeting, there is no excuse.”
A murmur of agreement floats across the table as all eyes turn to Hyunjin.
“I’m sure there is a reason,” another man says, a little nervously. “Kawasaki wouldn’t do
anything against our sajangnim. He’s as loyal as the rest of us.”
Another round of murmurs as Hyunjin gently pushes his plate aside with the glass and leans
his elbows on the table, his chin perched on his hands.
“What makes you think Kawasaki isn’t here?” Hyunjin asks.
Silence. The men look around at each other in complete confusion before one finally speaks
up.
“But…sajangnim…he’s not here. His seat is…is…”
“He’s here,” Hyunjin tells them, his smirk growing wider. “He’s been here the whole time.”
More confused stares, the men look at Kawasaki’s empty seat and then at Hyunjin. It takes a
moment for the information to really sink in but when Hyunjin nods down to his plate, the
men look down at their empty plates. A little longer and one of them finally pales when they
realise what Hyunjin meant.
“Oh my…”
A loud bang smacks into the window, scaring all of them but Hyunjin. The men look up,
wide eyed and horrified as up here on the 17th window of the building, a body is hanging just
outside the wide windows. It’s Kawasaki…what’s left of him anyway. His body is torn open
in the middle, bits of him missing, he’s hanging from a rope tied around his neck and when
he’d smacked into the glass, he’d left blood splatters.
One of the men starts screaming until Hyunjin pulls out a gun and shoots him in the kneecap.
“You think I didn’t know that Kawasaki was planning to have me killed?” Hyunjin shouts
over the terrified whimpers and screams of his men. He rises from his seat and faces them all.
“You think I don’t have ears everywhere?! None of your actions are hidden from me, you
fuckers are just lucky I didn’t put you on this plate too!”
The room is a mess. Half the men are screaming in terror, unable to take their eyes off the
body and the other half - realising Hyunjin knew about their plans - are already on their knees
and begging him for mercy.
“Any of you step one foot out of line, any of you even think about going against me, I’m
going to do so much worse than cook your insides and feed it to everyone, understand?!”
Hyunjin screams. “Now get out!”
They can’t run fast enough. The man who was shot in the kneecaps is stumbling, crawling his
way out and when they’re gone, Hyunjin sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. He
takes a moment for himself before he pulls his phone out and calls Jeongin.
“All good?”
“Yep,” Hyunjin says as he glances at the body still hanging outside his window. “Get Bin to
pull him up. They’re gone now.”
“Think they’ll have learnt their lessons?” Jeongin asks. “They had the whole thing planned.”
“Kawasaki was the leader of that little idea,” Hyunjin shrugs as the body is steadily pulled up
by the neck. “If eating Kawasaki wasn’t enough to make them all loyal, the fact that I have
their families should work. Nothing makes a man loyal to you faster than a gun pointed at his
daughters head.”
Felix comes into the room just as Hyunjin paces over to the window and watches Kawasaki’s
body being lifted back up onto the ceiling.
“We gotta get going soon so don’t take too long up there, Innie,” Hyunjin says. “Come back
down soon and we’ll get going.”
He hangs up and turns around to see Felix approaching him with a small smile.
“It worked?”
“Hopefully,” Hyunjin shrugs. “I’m not bothered. This isn’t the first time someone’s tried to
kill me.”
“Yeah well, getting your men to eat him might have worked in scaring the shit out of them,”
Felix grimaces. “Who cut him up? Was it you or…?”
“Innie,” Hyunjin smirks. “Boy has a natural talent for it.”
Felix grimaces but it’s not the same as it used to be. Back in God’s Menu, he liked to forget
about what was going on down in the freezer. It made him sick just to think about it. These
days he knew it was happening, he knew Jeongin seemed to enjoy it and it didn’t make him
sick like it used to. It was just kind of something he’d accepted when he’d come into
Wolgang Pa.
“We should probably leave soon. The flight lands in half an hour, we’ll be late if we don’t go
soon.”
Hyunjin nods and leads the way out of the boardroom and out into the hallway. Felix falls
into step so naturally beside him, as if he was always meant to be there. Right next to him.
Hyunjin glances at him and thinks that Chan might have been horrified…or at the very least
saddened to find that both his brothers were in a gang.
“I’ve been thinking about my Wolgang tattoo,” Felix tells him as he hits the call button for
the elevator. “I want a wolf on the back of my thigh and I was thinking about adding extra
designs and linework…”
Hyunjin walks into the elevator with Felix and half listens to his enthusiastic rambling. He
leans back against the wall and listens to Felix babble on and on about the different tattoo
ideas he has and he can’t help but think that Chan would be happy to see them like this.
Horrified he might be about the gang thing, he’d have been happy to see the two of them
coexisting together. His two brothers. As if they were always meant to.
As if Chan willed it to.
On the ground floor they meet Jeongin and Changbin and together, they take off for Busan
Airport. Felix engages Jeongin in a heated debate about tattoo designs and when they get to
the airport, they hurry for the arrivals area. Hyunjin and Changbin stand back and give
Jeongin and Felix space to hold up their embarrassingly large and colourful sign.
It’s not that Felix and Jeongin exactly need space to hold up their sign. It’s just that Hyunjin
and Changbin can’t be seen anywhere near that thing. Far too embarrassing.
Instead Hyunjin finds a post nearby and leans against it. His sharp eyes watch the way
Jeongin bounces up and down with his sign held high in the air. The way he grins at Felix as
the two wait for the people to come off the plane and appear in the arrivals area.
“Kawasaki has been disposed of,” Changbin says as he stands next to Hyunjin. “The men are
being watched too. If any of them so much as sneeze, we’ll know about it.”
Hyunjin smirks. “You’re good at this.”
Changbin shrugs. In a weird way, it kind of feels familiar. Doing grunt work, keeping an eye
out for any potential hazards, utilising contacts and keeping his ear to the ground. It keeps
him busy and it’s not too challenging. The fact that the people he’s protecting is not just
Hyunjin but also Jeongin and Felix gives him enough incentive to stick with this.
Living in Wolgang Pa isn’t so bad. Knowing the sajangnim has its perks.
Changbin nods to the enthusiastic way Felix and Jeongin jump up and down with their
banner. “Think he’ll kill us for this?”
“Maybe,” Hyunjin chuckles. “But he’ll get over it. Being smothered lovingly by Innie and
Lix is kind of a rite of passage by now. He’s been gone over a year, it’s his own damn fault
for staying away.”
“Think he’s here to stay?” Changbin asks.
Hyunjin shakes his head. It’s hard to tell what Seungmin is thinking. Maybe staying away in
Hawaii is actually doing him good. Maybe this isn’t just a visit, maybe he’s actually moving
back. Whatever the case, Seungmin is one of the few people Hyunjin trusts to make
judgement calls based on what is best for himself.
If he’s staying or leaving again, it’ll be what’s best for him and Hyunjin can respect that. He
does the same thing.
He glances at Changbin. Changbin who had fallen so easily into Wolgang Pa once he’d set
his mind on giving it another chance. It hadn’t been easy but he’d been determined to try
again. For Felix and perhaps a little for himself as well.
Maybe he hadn’t forgiven Hyunjin completely for what had happened in the end. But he’d
been able to put it aside and work with him.
“Bin.”
“Mm?”
“Are you here to stay?”
The question surprises Changbin. Wide eyes look at Hyunjin and for a moment, it doesn’t
look like he even knows what the question was.
But then he relaxes, he glances at Felix and he nods. Felix is staying so Changbin is staying.
“Yeah,” he answers at last.
Hyunjin can sense his resolve and he could ask if the other is feeling alright, if he’s stopped
with his suicidal thoughts, if he’s going to give this another go but he doesn’t. Jeongin might
have asked, Felix might have asked but Hyunjin doesn’t need to.
The gates open and people start coming in. Changbin and Hyunjin watch as Seungmin finally
appears, tired and worn out from his flight. He approaches the crowd, he stops walking, his
eyes widening when he finally spots the large banner that reads, in very colourful lettering
‘WELCOME HOME SEUNGMIN!’
He immediately turns around and starts heading back towards the gates.
“Come back!” Felix giggles, dropping the sign with Jeongin as they both chase after
Seungmin.
“Hyung! Come back!” Jeongin laughs. The pair of them disappear through the gates after
Seungmin and Hyunjin just smiles.
Changbin looks at him then at the sight of Seungmin being dragged in by Felix and Jeongin.
Both of them smothering him in hugs. He watches as they bring him back and feels a small
ball of warmth settling in his chest at the sight.
Together again. Not all of them, but what’s left of them. After so long feeling cold and alone,
Changbin finally starts to feel warmth at the thought of all of them together once more. Like
it was before.
“You can’t go back, Bin. But you can move forward. That’s all I want for you.”
They eventually get Seungmin out of there. They back into a car with Daniel driving and in
the backseat, Changbin watches Jeongin talking to Seungmin about Hawaii. He watches the
content way Hyunjin keeps his hand perched on Jeongin’s knee, as if that’s all he needs to
stay sane and calm.
Felix rests his head on Changbins’ shoulder and slips his hand into Changbin’s. He squeezes
and Changbin feels content.
Home is dangerous and it’s full of unruly gang members, murder, extortion and cannibalism.
Changbin wouldn’t be anywhere else.
Chapter End Notes
Whew!
For those of you who follow me on Twitter, you might have seen the poll I put up about
what to write first. Although the new story did win that poll, I decided to go against it
and put this up first.
Finish something before you start something else, y'know?
We don't apply that logic to that ATEEZ story I've got going on. That one totally lost the
poll :(
I'm 50/50 on this chapter, I rewrote it so many times that the finished product is
lightyears away from what it was originally. There's also some parallels you might have
noticed, Chan keeping Changbin sane from beyond the grave like Minho is Seungmin's
stability. We do what we can to deal with those we've lost.
Also my updates are late and scattered because your dumbass author decided to study a
masters this year and forgot how suffocating higher education can be. I literally have no
time to think these days so I'm glad for the cathartic escape that writing is but I
sacrificed sleep for it because I needed sanity more than sleep this time XDXD
See you next time! The new story is named ERASURE. It'll be up as soon as I'm done
tweaking it.
Also SKZ comeback! Thoroughly enjoying this one, hoping our boys are back on their
feet soon and well again :)
Big thank you to all of you who stuck through to the end end. I love each and every one
of you and thank you for joining me on this long and murderous journey :)
Need a little more? I gotchu fam
No Rest (for the Wicked)
Love always, Zara

Chapter Index
Chapter Notes
Chapter 1: Lupus in Fabula - Speak of the devil
Chapter 2: Sic Semper Tyrannis - Thus always to tyrants
Chapter 3: Catulum - Puppy
Chapter 4: Dum Spiro Spero - While I breathe, I hope
Chapter 5: Non Timetis Messor - Don’t fear the reaper
Chapter 6: Facta, Non Verba - Deeds, not words
Chapter 7: Audentes Fortuna Iuvat - Fortune favours the bold
Chapter 8: Scientia Ipsa Potential Est - Knowledge is power
Chapter 9: Per Ardua Ad Astra - Through adversity to the stars
Chapter 10: Nosce Te Ipsum - Know thyself
Chapter 11: Veni Vidi Amavi - I came, I saw, I loved
Chapter 12: Vivamus Moriendum Est - Let us live (for we must die)
Chapter 13: Post Tenebras, Lux - Light after darkness
Chapter 14: Respice, Adspice, Prospice - Examine the past, examine the present, examine the
future
Chapter 15: Veni Vidi Vici - I came, I saw, I conquered
Chapter 16: Amacus Usque Ad Aras - A friend to the very end
Chapter 17: In Theatro Ludus - Like a scene in a play
Chapter 18: Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo - If I cannot bend the will of
heaven, I shall move hell
Chapter 19: Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor - Where there’s love, there’s pain
Chapter 20: Aequam servare mentem - Keep the mind calm

Chapter 21: Filius Canis - Son of a Bitch
Chapter 22: Alea Lacta Est - The die is cast
Chapter 23: Dulce Periculum - Sweet danger
Chapter 24: In Venere Veritas - The awful truth
Chapter 25: Veritas Liberabit - The truth will make you free
Chapter 26: Si vis amari, ama - If you wish to be loved, love
Chapter 27: Stercus accidit - Shit happens
Chapter 28: Nemini cedere - Yield to no one
Chapter 29: Equo ne credite - Don’t trust the horse
Chapter 30: Lege atque lacrima - Read ‘em and weep
Chapter 31: Carpe Noctem - Seize the Night
Chapter 32: Amara usque in finem - To the bitter end
Chapter 33: Memento Vivere - Remember that you are alive
Chapter 34: Sub Rosa - Under the Rose
Oneshot Extra: No Rest (for the Wicked)
Chapter End Notes
The more you know :)

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Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/27589957.

Welcome to God's Menu.

A note about translations/artworks etc... I welcome all translations/artworks/tiktoks/videos

TRANSLATIONS: РУССКИЙ | ESPAÑOL | FRANÇAIS | TIẾNG VIỆT

Trailer made by the incomparable Sapphiamur

“I need your arms, Jeongin.”

“Jeongin,” the nurse pleads. “Please, cooperate with me.”

A straitjacket. She’s trying to put him in a straitjacket.

Because Yang Jeongin is a clinically verified psychotic murderer.

The name? God's Menu.

Jeongin blinks at him and waits for him to go on.

“Father please,” Jeongin pleads. “I can’t do this.”

“Minnie, sit,” she tells him. “I’m just making dinner.”

“Okay,” he sighs. “Guess I better get a cat.”

“Minho!” she chirps happily. “We have a newbie!”

“I’ll bet,” Minho chuckles and scratches behind Onyx’s ears.

Jeongin watches and as he does, Toya’s words echo in his mind.

He feels Minho’s eyes on the back of his head as he walks away.

“What’s that spot on the ceiling?”

“The what?” Jisung pants, still quite out of it.

“It’s really distracting.”

“The fuck is this?”

Jisung watches him. “...better?”

“What do you mean?”

“Got someone in mind?”

“I-I’d love to.”

Oh shit, he’s in.

Jeongin recognises him immediately from the photos. Hyunjin.

Jeongin has to check he’s not drooling.

“You’ll be interviewed by Chan,” he tells him. “He’ll be here soon.”

“So um,” he begins, a little shyly. “About the job?”

“Minho told me why you’re in Busan,” Chan continues. “Sick grandma?”

“Beautifully cooked, I loved it.”

“Interview went well?”

Changbin nods. “As you wish.”

TRANSLATIONS: РУССКИЙ | ESPAÑOL | FRANÇAIS | TIẾNG VIỆT

Stylish and practical.

“Chan!” Felix calls. “Tell Hyunjin the newbie is mine!”

The nickname makes Jeongin blink. “Innie?”

He doesn’t even catch Felix laughing until later.

All he can do is look up at Felix who is still giggling at him.

“What was that?”

“Look, I’ll show you.”

“Go on,” he says. “Try and open the door.”

The more he tries, the bigger Felix’s smile gets.

Felix sticks his head in as well and looks around.

Jeongin nods. “Okay then.”

“Fucking asshole,” Chan hisses under his breath.

“Well,” he says after a moment. “Fuck him.”

“Of course it’s not,” Changbin mutters.

Jeongin can do nothing but nod.

Jeongin looks up in surprise. “Horny executives?”

Normal mess for a restaurant.

“We hosted an orgy?!”

“Well,” he says. “You won’t be the first pig I’ve killed.”

TRANSLATIONS: РУССКИЙ | ESPAÑOL | FRANÇAIS | TIẾNG VIỆT

“Are...are you going to kill me now?”

“I need an answer,” he warns. “What's it to be?”

“Tick, tock, puppy,” Hyunjin teases. “Answer me.”