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Soul hadn’t visited in a while. Unsurprisingly, reports of the ‘Seoul Suicides’ kept increasing. Jongseob scoffed at the news he read on his phone – “Of course that’s the reason he hasn’t been visiting,” he thought. He doesn’t remember interacting with that many people in the last two weeks, though. Whatever he was doing, Jongseob wasn’t particularly concerned.
He put his phone back in his pocket and crossed his arms, leaning back on his chair and looking out the window, completely ignoring whatever his professor was saying.
He wasn’t even sending the flowers anymore. Was he so busy that he couldn’t send them anymore? It wasn’t really about the flowers themselves, anyway—he just liked feeling remembered.
The bell rang and everyone gathered their stuff to leave. Jongseob left in a rush, barely avoiding walking straight into the doorframe. The hallway was full, like always at the end of the day. He speed-walked his way to the parking lot, looking forward to going home, sleeping, and being done with the day.
“Agh-” He mumbled. Some guy, also rushing somewhere, slammed into him, hitting him hard in the shoulder. Jongseob stopped, brought a hand to the shoulder where he was hit and turned around to look at him. The only thing he saw was the individual turning left on one of the corridors. He sighed, looking mildly perplexed, and continued toward his final destination—slower this time.
His ride home was okay. There wasn’t much traffic today and he was pretty sure he got back to his apartment complex faster than usual.
After locking his car, he heard a weird noise coming from a bush behind him. He turned around. The alarm on his face lasted only a second before curling into a cocky smile.
That’s the thrill he had been missing all this time.
“Ooh, are you going to chase me down the hallways this time?” He toyed with his keys. No answer. He couldn’t actually see anyone behind the bush, but that just felt better. The uncertainty. “Suit yourself.”
He walked slowly into the complex, waiting for the sound of footsteps behind him. Any second now, he thought. Any second.
Once Jongseob passed by the security guard’s office, he looked back. No one there. “Are you into hiding now?” he asked, an expectant smile tugging at his lips. No answer.
Instead of taking the elevator, Jongseob took the stairs in no hurry. After each floor he passed by, he looked down, trying to catch a glimpse of his lover climbing after him, knife in hand. The mere idea made his pulse quicken. The silence was enjoyable, even. Not knowing when he’d appear made Jongseob’s heart race.
Once he reached his floor, he waited a little bit in silence. Really? He wasn’t being chased? “What’s the game this time? Do you want to surprise me?” Still nothing. He sighed. His last hope was the hallway.
He looked around. Not a single soul in sight. If Soul had been there, he would’ve shown himself already. The boy sighed. One more night without him, I guess.
He grabbed his apartment keys and opened the door with a heavy sigh. Before he could close the door, a hard shove to his back sent him crashing face-first onto the floor, a firm hand pressing his head down.
Finally. That was what he wanted.
Soul’s knee dug into Jongseob’s back, keeping him pinned. His right hand pressed his head to the floor while the knife in his left rested dangerously close to the back of his neck. He heard the door closing on its own.
Jongseob could say he was used to it all he wanted, but of course he wasn’t. No one ever really gets used to having a knife at their throat—and Jongseob didn’t want to.
The feeling was surreal. Soul scared him in a way nothing else ever could, there was something that made him search for that adrenaline time and time again. It made his heart race and left his head spinning in the most intoxicating way. His breathing became uneven ans Soul could hear him struggling to steady his breath.
“What? You’re scared?” He asked, almost laughing. Jongseob looked at him from the corner of his eye. Jongseob forced a smirk.
“Yeah, so what? Isn’t that how you like me—” Soul turned him around in one swift move and now the knife was pointing directly to his throat. Jongseob swallowed hard, he couldn’t help but smile when he noticed the boy’s knee was placed right between his legs. He then noticed the recently dried blood on the knife. Guess the guy he ran into earlier was already a goner.
“I love you like this.” Soul’s smile grew wider, more desperate. The words sent shivers down Jongseob’s spine, heat creeping through his body. Soul stared down at him, his expression suddenly turning serious. “You know I can kill you right here and now, right?”
Jongseob scoffed, he’d learned to play along. “But you don’t want to.” He cupped Soul’s face. “Or you’d lose what’s most precious to you.”
Soul tossed the knife aside and crashed into a kiss. It was messy, desperate and exactly what Jongseob was yearning for. He’d missed that familiar taste of face paint. The boy on top of him bit his lip, and now the taste of face paint mixed with that of his own blood. The sensation pulled a moan from him.
Their lips suddenly parted, leaving Jongseob confused—until he felt teeth sink into his collarbone and a hand squeezing his waist. He hissed at the sensation, his hips automatically bucking up. He leaned his head to the side to provide more space to the boy. When the bites softened into kisses that trailed up his neck to his jaw, Jongseob couldn’t contain the whimper that escaped his mouth.
The contrast was brutal, abrupt. Being Soul’s plaything was one of his biggest pleasures. Strangely enough, the only thing that rivaled it was acing his midterms.
“Agh!-” He screamed at the feeling of a bite right on his jawline, next to his earlobe. His expression showed discomfort. The volume in his pants showed otherwise. Soul looked down at it and his hand came up to his nape and pulled Jongseob’s hair, drawing another whimper from him.
“You’re enjoying this more than I am, aren’t you?” he picked up the knife again, now pointing it to the other’s waist. Jongseob’s eyes filled with tears. Maybe out of fear, but mostly out of overstimulation. He grabbed Soul’s thigh.
“Soul, Please-” He sobbed. Soul tilted his head.
“What?” Now the knife pressed onto his skin. “Gotta use your words.”
“This- this is too much. Please- I- I can’t take this anymore.” If Jongseob wasn’t right where he wanted to be, Soul probably would’ve misunderstood his begging. He lifted Jongseob’s shirt and trailed the tip of the knife through his belly. Not enough to cut, just enough to tickle.
“Ah- Fuck-” He groaned. He was fully hard now, and Soul probably could feel it under him. But Jongseob was too proud to beg. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Soul sighed with a soft smile. “I’ll give you what you want.” A thumb caressed the other’s cheek.
Jongseob suddenly felt his body being lifted off the ground by two strong arms. Soul sat down on the edge of the bed and placed Jongseob on his thigh, facing him.
“I don’t have much time, gotta take care of some people later.” He put both hands on the hips of the boy on his lap and looked at him head to toe. “Can you get off like this?” Jongseob’s hips moved instinctively.
He held onto Soul by his shoulders, shaky breaths already escaping his lips. He whimpered when the other squeezed him, making him move with even more desperation. Their lips found each other again, even more messy and desperate than earlier. Soul’s hand traveled up to his nape for support.
“Ah!-” His head was yanked back by the other. He closed his eyes and hissed, it was too much. Soul let go almost instantly, and Jongseob hid his face on the crook of his neck. He couldn't hold back his moans anymore, he couldn’t hold back anything anymore. “Soul, please-”
Soul smiled and purposefully waited before answering “It’s okay. Don’t hold back, Jongseob-ah.”
His body trembled and he whimpered. The thrilling sensation traveled up and down his body. He squeezed Soul’s shoulder, and the other boy held him steady.
“Good job, Jongseob-ah.” He smiled softly. Jongseob took a last look at Soul and returned the smile before placing his forehead on the crook of his neck again and hugging him. Soul retributed the hug, stroking his hair.