Archive of Our Own

The rain pattered heavily against the windows, thunder and lighting crashed around outside, the noise sometimes making Gi-hun jump when it sounded too close. 

He glanced outside every so often, sucking his teeth at the way the rain had ruined what started out as such a beautiful day, for both him and the business. 

People had flooded into their coffee shop earlier in the morning, it had become quite popular recently after an Influencer, a girl named Jun-hee, had come in to review it with her friends. They had given the shop a raving review, praising how fresh the baked goods were and how perfectly Gi-hun had made their drinks. 

After her, they'd even gotten a visit from a popular rapper named "Thanos", who said he was a friend of Jun-hee's.

Since then business had been booming, a lot of the times Gi-hun couldn't even work by himself and needed to call either Jung-bae or Sang-woo, his friend and boyfriend who he started the shop with. 

Customers became a blur, a stark contrast from when they'd first started only having a handful of regulars that kept the business afloat. The three owners of the small shop had never been prouder, and they made sure to show it to each new person who came in. 

Especially Gi-hun who had always been eager to make someone's day. 

"A nice smile and a good cup of coffee are the key to a good day!" He remembered telling Sang-woo when questioned about why he was so nice to even the rudest of customers. His boyfriend always shook his head while sucking his teeth. 

"You need to be careful with all that sunshine Jagi, someone might get the idea to steal you from me." 

Gi-hun grinned softly to himself replaying Sang-woo's words—God, did he love that man. 

Sang-woo meant the world to him. His longest friend, most avid supporter, and even most steadfast protector when he needed him to be. He had held his hand every second of life—especially when he had transitioned and most had turned their backs on him. Gi-hun was grateful for every second of his time. He couldn't think of anyone else who could ever replace him. 

He sighed softly, grabbing a rag to wipe away a stray ring of coffee left behind from his last drink. The storm still raged outside. 

Ding!

The chime of the coffee shops bell rang out, pulling Gi-hun away from his thoughts. He straightened up from the counter turning to the newly arrived customer. 

"Welcome in! My—you're soaked!" Gi-hun was taken aback by the man who was actually sopping wet, head to toe. There was no umbrella in sight so he assumed the man had gotten caught in the storm. 

The man looked up at him, the displeasure written on his face, a look reading 'No shit.' glaring back at Gi-hun.

Gi-hun took a moment to study him. He was wearing all black, a hoodie that sagged slightly over his frame and simple black joggers with white, dirtied sneakers. Something an athlete might wear. His hood was half off, damp, brown hair clinging to his forehead in messy patches. His eyes were pretty, Gi-hun thought, despite the dark circles that permeated underneath them. He also noticed the uneven curve of his upper lip, an interesting feature, it made his face memorable. 

"I'm glad you could find shelter here!" Gi-hun continued, the man just nodded curtly, "Is there anything I can get for you today?" He finished with a soft smile. 

The man approached the counter, eyes looking everywhere but directly at Gi-hun. He scanned the menu, eyebrows furrowing at the choices. 

Gi-hun picked up on the micro-expression, "You can order something that's not on the menu if you'd like, these are just what has been popular recently." 

"Ah... Okay then, Just a large plain black coffee— hot please." His voice came out clipped, jittery. Gi-hun guessed he was probably on the shy side, uncomfortable with talking to strangers. 

After a few seconds their eyes met, Gi-hun still smiling softly, lost in his own thoughts. He gave a small nod before turning to work on the order. 

A minute or so passed until he finished. He turned back to the counter and set the drink down, once again offering that charming, warm smile of his. 

The man nodded at him, taking the cup and slowly sipping. His reaction was... Blank, to say the least. 

Gi-hun understood it was black coffee, but he'd hoped that maybe the warmth of the drink would help with the cold of the rain soaked clothing that clung to him.

He blinked a few times, deciding on an attempt to make the mysterious stranger smile, a distraction from his wet clothes and the awful storm outside, "Has anyone ever told you you have nice eyes?" 

The shorter man paused mid-sip, eyes flitting up to meet Gi-hun's. He lowered the drink, breaking eye contact, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed down the rest of the sip he was working on. 

He stood silent for a minute, eyes still looking at Gi-hun, wide and shimmering as if his small compliment meant much more to him than Gi-hun could comprehend. 

"No... Noone has ever told me that before, thank you." He finally muttered after what felt like too long. "That's nice of you." 

"Of course!" Gi-hun beamed, "I'm surprised, you're pretty handsome! People aren't looking hard enough." He waved his hand and let his head tilt towards his shoulder. "Well, I hope you enjoy your coffee! Feel free to sit and wait for the storm to calm down, I'll be in the back, you can ring this bell if you need anything!" 

He received a small nod in return. He gave one last curt smile before turning to the kitchen area of the shop, ready to begin prepping for tomorrow morning and closing. 

♡♡♡♡♡

"You're pretty handsome! People aren't looking hard enough." 

The words repeated in In-ho's mind like an earworm, looping and looping all day, everyday. He wasn't sure if he liked it—the sudden switch from a meaningless life, bland. Empty. To one with a goal, a purpose, a desire.

He laid sprawled on his bed, eyes staring at the ceiling of his room, unblinking. He didn't really even see the ceiling though, he saw him—Gi-hun. 

He was burned into his head, relentless and unwavering in presence. Haunting his every thought.

He had tried to get over himself, he really did. He had told himself those little words probably meant nothing, just something light to make conversation.

Then he went back to the shop. 

After their 2nd encounter he began to think—Gi-hun must've been attracted to him. After the 3rd, 4th, and 5th encounter he was sure of it.

He never failed to compliment him, to talk to him sweetly in a way a lot of people never bothered to. He even always handed In-ho his cup with both hands. Respectful, tender, and loving in manner. That along with the cute little notes he'd write on his cup, wishing him a good day or a silly little pun. He showed him a warmth he didn't think he had ever felt before, and he couldn't have been more pleased with that. 

He wouldn't hesitate to admit that he found him beautiful, especially on that rainy evening. When he approached the shop he had been doing nothing at all, walking idly throughout the storm, letting the rain soak him just to feel something. Then he saw the soft, warm lighting that seemingly beckoned him, begging him to take refuge, so he did. 

He hadn't expected to be blinded by Gi-hun's beaming face. He must've been an angel, he had thought at first glance. It was plausible, the way the light behind him had bounced off his hair, reflecting like a shimmering halo surrounding his head. 

In-ho tried to play aloof, cold, but his act couldn't withstand his sweet words that had touched him so deeply, simply divine. 

Not then, and certainly not now. So he spiraled. 

He frequented the shop, he went everyday, same time, same order. It had become a ritual to appease his dear angel. Nothing was better than seeing Gi-hun smile, not just smile—smile at him.

His smile had become an itch he could never scratch on his own. A necessity to keep his world revolving. He feared that without him, his world would return to the dull gray he had grown so used to, so he never strayed from his path, his ritual, his worship.

But Gi-hun... Gi-hun often strayed far. 

It didn't take him long to notice it. The other man.

A man taller than him with rectangular framed glasses and skeptical eyes. Sang-woo, In-ho had figured out. 

He hated Sang-woo. Him and his stupid, pompous laugh. Always glaring at In-ho like he was filth, his eyes ever so judging and condemning. Always too close to what was his. Caressing his angel's face, hands, waist. Always threatening to taint—to defile him, to breach the walls of their love. 

He was very unwelcome in their church, but for some reason Gi-hun never pushed him away. 

He let the man caress him, he smiled back at him—a smile too close to the one reserved for In-ho alone. It drove him crazy every time he saw it. 

He wanted to grab the man, to shake him out of the hypnotic temptation the other man wrapped him in.

He thought at first maybe it was a punishment. 

Maybe his angel knew of the late nights he spent heaving Into his pillow, face flushed, body slick with sweat he had worked up himself. Fisting himself needily as he stared at the pictures he had stolen of the other man. 

But he couldn't help it—hell, if anything it was another form of worship, so he was sure he couldn't have been in the wrong. But if he was, all Gi-hun had to do was tell him. He'd drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness faster than Gi-hun could say the word forgiveness. 

He loved Gi-hun, and he would do anything for him, all he had to do was ask. He definitely found the addition of another man to punish him unfair and unnecessary. 

Yet still, he pushed his emotions to the side, there was some distance so he didn't lash out. His angel was still smiling at him, still his in every way that mattered. Well, except for one, but In-ho knew that the day would come where they would come together, he awaited it patiently, eagerly. 

He waited and waited, until their union was stolen from him. 

It had been the perfect way to sour his pleasant day. 

He had gotten his coffee, that days communion, and lingered around the building, drinking in he sight of his love through the window until close, which after he followed Gi-hun home. 

This had been a new practice, something he'd started after the long hours of watching him began to simply not be enough. When his patience began to run thin and his need began to swell like the tide before a tsunami. 

But it was also something he would come to regret. Not watching Gi-hun of course, but witnessing the betrayal of a lifetime. 

His angel, Sang-woo, curled around each other, moving in tandem. The lights in the room where low, he could only make out the movement underneath sheets, the sharp slope of the devils back and the delicate arms wrapped around it, digging in, anchoring. 

The world stopped in that moment, holding its breath right alongside side him. As if it felt the weight of the sin he had bore witness to.

He would've been delighted to see how gorgeous Gi-hun looked with his silent screams, face contorted in ecstasy, assuming he were the one causing it. But not like this—this was shattering.

He almost died when their eyes met. Gi-hun's half-lidded, lust filled gaze boring into him, taunting him. 'You took too long, my love. Should've moved faster.'

He remembered running home, almost immediately collapsing over his toilet upon entering. Bile rose out of him like a waterfall, the physical manifestation of his disgust. The scene replayed over and over, killing him on the inside. He scratched at his scalp, as if trying to claw the memory of his brain. He couldn't stop shaking, revulsion running deep into his nervous system.  

How could he do that? How could he give away In-ho's gift—the love he had worked so hard for? Gi-hun's body was supposed to be his, it was his. So why—?

Then it occurred to him, Sang-woo was merely temptation. His angel got carried away in the current of it—It wasn't his fault. 

He laughed to himself, wiping the sides of his mouth, clutching at his hair. Of course. Gi-hun would've never betrayed him in that manner... He was just lost. He hadn't been taunting him with his eyes. 

He'd been pleading. 

He wanted to be saved, and that was something In-ho could certainly do. He could almost see it now, the way Gi-hun would cling to him, the way he would thank him for freeing him from the grasp of that demon. 

It clicked to him, this was his final test before his angel was finally his. Of course he had to work for it. He let his head fall forward on his arm, resting it against the toilet seat. 

"Don't worry My sweet angel, I'll free you... I swear." He muttered, voice soft with promise. 

♡♡♡♡♡

For Gi-hun, the day started the same way every other day had. 

He opened his shop, set up for the day and carried out the job as he did every other day. Greeted customers with his familiar smile and made drinks with the efficiency of a 20 year pro—even though he only had about 3 years of experience.

He was happy, content, in no ways prepared for his world to be flipped upside down. 

Sang-woo had been supposed to stay later that day, the sales projections guessed it would be busy, they were usually busy on Fridays. But the day was muggy, grey, so most people stayed inside. 

Sang-woo left early to help his mother with moving some furniture in her house. Gi-hun bid him farewell with a hug and a kiss, before lounging back onto the counter. 

The rest of the shift passed by slowly, the hours dragging by due to boredom. He couldn't have been more excited to get out of the shop and go home that day, ready to return to his man and cuddle up and watch a drama with a good snack and warm blankets. The perfect remedy for such a dreary day. 

The air was cool, brisk when he stepped outside. The chill bit his cheeks, he shivered, but smiled. The thought of curling up in bed fueling his steps. 

Gi-hun pulled out his phone, scrolling through his feed idly while walking, unperturbed by the prospect of danger. 

Until he heard footsteps behind him, not passing, consistent—one's he'd been hearing for a minute since he'd left the coffee shop. He put his phone down, glancing behind him. 

It was a man in all black, white sneakers, but more disturbingly a hat tipped low on his head and a face mask. He shivered, not from the cold—from the small pang of fear that curled at the base of his spine. 

He gave a small nod at the man, hoping to signal that he saw him so that he wouldn't rob or hurt him, if that was the goal of course. He turned around and began to walk faster, home. He would be home soon. 

He walked, never once turning to check if the figure had left. He didn't have to, he still heard the footsteps. 

Relief flooded through him when his home was in view, the light of the windows cutting through the dark. Safe and sound, he just had to make it. 

But then the footsteps sped up, so did he, but the figure seemed to notice. 

Gi-hun's breath caught, his throat began to squeeze with the dread of the atmosphere. He bit his lip, hands beginning to shake. So close—he was so close to home. Relax. Breathe. 

But the sounds were too close. He couldn't stop himself from peering over his shoulder once again, a poor attempt at consolation. The worst mistake he could've made. 

The man was nearly right behind him, within arms reach. Gi-hun yelped as he took in the proximity, body already moving to form a sprint. 

Then suddenly he was being grabbed, one strong arm wrapped around his torso while the man fished around in his pocket for something else. 

Gi-hun thrashed and struggled in his arms, yelled for help, cursing this town for having absolutely no streetlights, cursing everyone who was tucked away inside, ignoring his pleas. 

He continued to kick, desperate flailing doing little to deter the man behind him. It wasn't until he threw his head back, striking the other man on his nose, that he let go of him.

Gi-hun stumbled, reeling from the shock until his adrenaline took hold. He began to sprint, as fast as he could, desperately trying to close the gap between him and his house, but the man was on him again in seconds. 

They crashed together, Gi-hun's head bouncing off the pavement with a harsh crack as they hit the floor. His head spun, a dull ache beginning to take root at the point of impact. 

The man above him gasped softly, rubbing the side of his head gently, he could just barely make out the furrow of his eyebrows, "—I'm sorry!" He muttered, pulling out a small cloth from his pocket, "I didn't mean to hurt you." He sighed softly, his hand moving down from Gi-hun's hair to his cheek. 

"What–What do you want?" Gi-hun breathed out weakly, squirming with what little power he had left, hands pushing at the man's torso. 

"What do I want?" The man seemed taken aback, "I'm saving you—like you asked me to?" 

Gi-hun laid, eyebrows furrowed, tears beginning to pool in his eyes, "I don't even know you—let me go..." His voice was clipped, he tried again at shoving the man off, but his arms failed him miserably.

"Of course you know me... You're confused is all." The man brought the cloth to his face, covering his mouth and nose, "Rest now, angel. You'll be safe in just a minute."

Gi-hun turned his head, the man followed with the cloth. His conscious began to fade with each passing second, horror taking root in his core yet he wasn't able to do anything about it. 

He looked up at his porch, so close—too far. He reached weakly towards the warm glow of his home, a breath away from safety. 

'Sang-woo-ya...' The name barely made it to his lips. 'What did I do? Why me?' Was his last thought before his vision faded, his world stopped spinning and everything was black. 

♡♡♡♡♡

For In-ho, the day had also started out the same as days had been recently. 

His ritual remained undisturbed—coffee, surveillance, unspoken prayer. He watched and drank and watched some more. The only difference was now he watched for different things, how the demon moved, when he separated himself from his angel. 

He had dressed for the event for days. Dark clothes, a hat and a mask. Things to keep him covered, keep him unrecognizable to Sang-woo,  god forbid he recognized In-ho and got in his way. He wore those accessories, plus his usual hoodie—along with a cloth soaked in chloroform tucked in his pocket—hadn't been cheap, but love demanded sacrifice. Anything to get his darling to safety. He thought it'd be easier to have him sleep, that way he couldn't alert Sang-woo. It was a precaution, just in case Gi-hun hadn't fully gotten over the other man's spell.

He spent time waiting for the chance to liberate Gi-hun, waiting for Sang-woo to finally separate himself so he could swoop in and grab Gi-hun before he had a chance to notice.

The day finally came. A Friday, the weather was awful, bland—forgettable. He'd hoped it would be brighter on their union, but he couldn't control the weather. 

He surged with joy as he watched Sang-woo leave the Cafe, knowing it was his time to shine. He planted himself in the alley by the shop, counting the minutes before salvation.

They counted down too slowly, dragging by.

His entire body buzzed, he felt alive in a way he never felt before. His heart raced, thudding hard against his chest, his palms were clammy, and he couldn't suppress the grin that spread across his face, plastered ear to ear. Heat coursed through him, alight with the feeling of divine ecstasy.

Then the time came. Gi-hun flicked off the lights of his shop and stepped outside. 

In-ho noticed the way he shivered at the cold, he giggled softly. It was only a matter of time before he could keep him warm. He wouldn't feel cold another day of his life after tonight. 

He stood watching him as he walked. The flutter of his beige coat, the way his scarf was wrapped around him so snug, In-ho wished he was that scarf. 

He sighed, giddy, internally screaming as he walked after the man. 

Blocks passed. Gi-hun stared down at his phone, the light casting him in a soft glow. In-ho couldn't help but notice how unaware he seemed, not paying attention to his surroundings at all. Too focused on his phone to check—anyone could hurt him if they wanted to. He was lucky In-ho was there to keep him safe. 

Then, he slowed down, lowering his phone as if he heard In-ho's comment, read his mind. He wouldn't be surprised if he had, they were connected after all. 

He slowed his steps as well, matching him as he watched. 

Then Gi-hun turned around, their eyes meeting. A shiver ran through In-ho, soft but undeniable. His heart quickened again. 

Then came the nod, the confirmation.

It was time. 

In-ho nearly collapsed at such a vivid acknowledgement, Gi-hun had never been so forward before.

He gathered himself and sped up, quickly closing the gap between him and Gi-hun. The other man was walking faster now, making him work for it no doubt. He wanted In-ho to prove his devotion through action, he understood and he acted. 

He reached out and grabbed, pulling Gi-hun close to his chest. The scent of vanilla and coffee that lingered over him hit immediately, In-ho's eyes fluttered as he inhaled. His body bristled with warmth at the contact—just now realizing they had never been this close before.

He just barely kept in a moan, fishing around in his pocket while the other man squirmed in his grasp. He was right to bring the chloroform. 

Then he was knocked back, Gi-hun's head slamming back into his nose. He recoiled with a grunt, a hand coming up to nurse the injury. 

Fucking Sang-woo.

He shook away the pain and lunged after Gi-hun, able to catch up to him quickly despite their height difference. A shame those long legs weren't very fast—Ironic, really. All that height and he still couldn't outrun fate. 

He threw his weight into Gi-hun, wincing as he crashed into the ground harder than In-ho had meant him to. He had been too slow to shield him from the impact, "—I'm sorry!" He brought his hand up in a soothing motion, caressing the dark hair on the man's head, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Gi-hun squirmed against him, he noticed the tears subtly filling his lash line, threatening to spill. He figured hitting his head must've really hurt, he felt awful about it but he'd make it up to him in no time. He smiled softly underneath the mask. 

In this moment, he was a sinner welcomed in to paradise—unworthy, trembling,  and overwhelmed by the miracle of proximity.

He had earned this—being above Gi-hun—and it was aweing. He had to fight his own body, his need threatening to show at the continuous grinding of Gi-hun's hips into his while he squirmed, the feeling of his hands plush against his stomach. It was amazing.

But there would be time for that later, for now he had to work. He reached around in his pocket once again, producing the chemical laced cloth. 

"What—What do you want?" Came the meager voice from under him. So soft and pleasant as usual. 

In-ho raised an eyebrow, as if Gi-hun didn't know what he wanted— "What do I want? I'm saving you—like you asked me to?" He couldn't hide the confusion in his voice. He should've known, unless he was playing a trick on him. 

"I don't even know you—let me go." His voice cracked, wavering with the sound of his unspilt tears.

The words landed like a slap. Didn't know him? That was impossible. 

He felt himself shake subtly, on the verge of lashing out before he gathered himself. He had to remember, it wasn't Gi-hun's fault. 

Never Gi-hun's fault. 

It was Sang-woo's—he taught his baby how to lie. A desperate ploy to keep them apart. In-ho would correct it when he had the time, though he really hoped he wouldn't even have to. Maybe spending time together would be enough to release Gi-hun from Sang-woo's perverted hypnosis. 

"Of course you know me... You're confused is all." He sighed to himself, pushing the cloth to the man's face gently, unwilling to risk hurting him again, "Rest now, angel. You'll be safe in just a minute."

He watched as his arm moved weakly, reaching for what he thought was still his home.

In-ho wanted to tell him that he would have a new home soon, one he would adore he was sure. He knew Gi-hun wouldn't hear him though, he had already faded. His head going slack and drooping to the side. 

He looked beautiful, at peace. In-ho couldn't be more ready to worship him in such close proximity. For them to finally be together.

He stared down, eyes shimmering for a moment as he took this victory in. Triumph swelled in him in waves. He stood up, glaring at the home he knew Sang-woo was in, as if he would be able to feel his animosity through the walls, then stooped down. Slipping his arms under Gi-hun and hoisting him up, holding him close to his chest.

He planted a soft kiss to his temple, a small reward for his unwavering devotion and effort. 

With heaven in his arms, warm and holy, and hell behind him, he walked on—already dreaming of the life they'd begin together.

♡♡♡♡♡

Gi-hun woke up, head spinning, vision blurry. 

He was in a living room, unfamiliar, one he certainly hadn't seen before. The room was only lit by a couple of small lamps. There was the faint scent of tea, jazz floated in the air around him softly. 

His coat was folded neatly on the arm of the couch next to him, his shoes off, discarded somewhere. 

He groaned, struggling to lift his upper body upright. 

"You're awake!" Came a voice—excited, childlike almost. He turned towards it. "Are you okay? Thirsty, or anything?"

He rubbed at his head, squinting at the figure. A man, shorter than him, younger looking—and vaguely familiar. 

"W–Where am I?" He muttered, voice ragged, his throat felt dry. Every movement of his vocal chords scratched against the inside of his throat making it feel like he hadn't had water in ages.

The man walked over to Gi-hun, stopping in front of him before sinking to his knees onto the plush carpet underneath them. 

"Home, angel. You're home." He rested his head against Gi-hun's thighs, bringing his hand up to draw patterns in the fabric of his jeans with the tip of his finger.

Gi-hun's breath hitched, memories of what had happened hitting him all at once. He shoved at the man's head,  pulling his knees up to his chest, curling himself as deep as he could into the couch—as far away from this stranger as he could.

"Who are you?!" He exclaimed, adrenaline soon catching up to him, his heart thudding in his chest, his hands shaky, nails digging into the tough leather of the couch. His eyes began to dart around the room, scanning for exits. There were two windows, but from the looks of it they were high up. The only door he could see was behind the man. 

"Why are you being like this?" Came the response. The man sat wounded, defensive, face full of hurt, "You know who I am—Gi-hun you're safe now, you know." He crawled back towards him, his hand reached slowly to him, as if attempting to pet a frightened animal, "It's me, In-ho..." 

Gi-hun slapped his hand away from him, shifting even further, horror painting his features, "I don't know you—!" He shouted at him, "I don't—Let me go!" He gasped, voice quivering pathetically as he spoke. 

In-ho's eyebrows furrowed, a flash of anger streaking his face, "Why do you keep saying that? You do know me Gi-hun! You love me—"

Gi-hun cut him off, voice sharp, low, "I recognize you..." In-ho lit up for a second, hope shimmering in his eyes similar to how it had that stormy night.

The uneven curve of his lip... It was memorable.

"I recognize you—but I. Don't. Know. You!" Gi-hun hissed, the hope was wiped from his eyes immediately, "Much less love you!" His chest was heaving, eyes wide and frightened.

This isn't the reaction In-ho expected, he was confused. Hurt. 

In-ho backed away, recoiling at the man's words. He looked up at him, returning his wide eyed stare before looking down at his lap. He shifted around uncomfortably, smoothing out creases in his pants. Only then did Gi-hun realize he was dressed nicely. Hoodie and sweats traded for clean, pressed slacks and a button down, undone at the top. 

He watched the gears turn in his head, the way his shoulders started to shake. The urgency in his movements when he began to rub at his face. The sound of soft sniffles rising in the air.

"I... I don't understand—" He felt his breath begin to catch in his throat, shaky, uneven. "I—You asked for this!" His voice began to crack under the pressure of his emotions. He looked up at Gi-hun, tears beginning to streak down his face, a look of pure disbelief written on him. "I love you! Why are you acting like this?—I don't understand!"

"Shut up!" Gi-hun snapped, "Asked for this? Are you crazy?!" A dumb question. Clearly, this man was crazy—beyond that. "Who would ask for this?!"

In-ho's head snapped back to look at him, rubbing his hands over tear tracks, still sniffling, "You did!" He argued, "You looked at me! Your eyes told me! When that—that fucking demon was—" He swallowed hard, "Using you!

Gi-hun glared at him, disbelief mixing with the horror to form an agonizing kind of scrutiny, "Demon? What the fuck are you talking about?!" He snapped, eyebrows furrowing deeply, mouth turning downwards as he began to shift, just about ready to run. 

"You know who..." In-ho's face crinkled with disgust, before softening as he met Gi-hun's eyes, "Sang-woo... That bastard" His eyes flashed, volatile. Like he had short circuited, disgust, then rage, melting right back into love as he gathered himself. 

Gi-hun gasped, an uncontrollable reflex, "S-Sangwoo?" He shook his head slowly, "Sang-woo is my boyfriend... He wasn't using me..." He suddenly felt sick—how long had In-ho been following him? How long has this been going on? How much had he seen? 

How long had Gi-hun been unsafe for? How did he not notice?

"What do you mean by using me?" He swallowed hard as he asked, almost 100% sure he knew the answer. 

In-ho sat quietly, bottom lip beginning to quiver recalling the memory. He looked like a lover who had been cheated on, "He was... On top of you—You know how he was using you, Gi-hun." He shook his head, voice wavering. "He shouldn't have ever touched you like that... I'm sorry I let him do that to you." His voice dropped to a whisper. 

Gi-hun could've laughed at the audacity of the words, the rambling. "You're gone..." He muttered softly, "You're completely insane." He scoffed, moving to stand up. He stepped slowly off to the side pressing himself into the wall.

In-ho watched him.

"I'm not insane... Baby, why would you say that?" He shook his head, "Was getting you away from him not enough? What more do I have to do?" He began to crawl to where Gi-hun now stood, reaching out for him once again. 

Gi-hun glared at him, shifting away from the touch, one step closer to the door, "Stay away from me." His voice was low, a warning. 

"Gi-hun, baby—my angel, don't push me away." In-ho pled, eyes still full of unshed tears, "I saved you, you just have to forget about him now." He stood, wide frame caging Gi-hun against the wall. 

He reached out to him, leaning in close, hands coming up to hold Gi-hun's face. 

"Back up..." Gi-hun muttered again. 

"My angel..." In-ho's pupils were blown, eyes still glassy, yet they no longer looked anguished. There was nothing but his twisted look of adoration woven into the grain. 

He leaned in closer, their lips brushing for a second—a second that lasted forever in In-ho's world. 

Gi-hun froze, stomach churning, bile rising in his throat. The touch was electric in the worst way possible—wrong. Burning. Unbearable.

Slap!

The sound vibrated through the air. The impact left In-ho staggering, face turned, a bruise blooming on his cheek. 

He turned back to Gi-hun, shocked. Shaken. "Gi-hun—"

"I told you to back off!" Gi-hun snapped at him, "Don't you ever even think about touching me like that again! Psycho!"

With that he turned his back towards the man, sprinting the short distance to the door, only to find there were four whole locks on it.

Panic surged through him as he fiddled with each one, not a single one budging. 

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. No!" His whimpers turned to anger, he slammed his fist against the door bedore he spun around, facing In-ho once again, "Unlock this fucking door right now!"

In-ho stood, still staring at the wall where Gi-hun had just been. He was completely still, statuesque in his shock.

He turned to Gi-hun, eyes finding his, bottom lip held between teeth, eyebrows furrowed, twitching slightly. The corners of his lips downturned while his cheeks were painted with fresh tear tracks. 

"No."

"What? No?" Gi-hun felt that unfortunately familiar feeling of panic creeping up his spine, while he had never settled down, he now understood just how helpless he really was in this predicament. "In-ho, this is illegal! You can't do this!" His voice began to crack, defiance turned to a plea as his composure melted away, "Please! Please, let me go! This isn't right! You—You can't do this!" 

Gi-hun began to sob, unable to hold himself together any longer. 

"I can do this." He stepped towards Gi-hun slowly, a predator stalking prey, "You asked me to do this." He put a hand out, brushing his shoulder before pulling the trembling man into his arms. He leaned into him, signing softly, lips pressed against his ear. 

"I'm doing this for you... All for you."

Gi-hun could only sob harder, each new cry wracked his body and left an aching feeling in his stomach and chest. He had never felt so weak before. 

He hicced, the panic overcoming him for a moment. Thoughts rushed through him—What would happen now? What should he do? What if this man tried to hurt him—

Tried to kill him?

The thought struck him like lightning. 

Gi-hun flew into a frenzied form of panic, thrashing wildly, hitting In-ho's chest.

The moment the man broke away from him he scrambled, looking for cover, a place to hide, anything safe—anything, anything!

But there was nothing. 

Just the man's house that only he knew the layout to and In-ho himself, still stood staring at him. His face still held the aftercurrents of hurt, but for the most part read blank now. Almost calm even, like a parent waiting for a child to calm down from a tantrum. 

Gi-hun stood wide-eyed and heaving. His entire body bristled with his panic, tears still flowed freely. 

'Save me, save me, save me!' Where was anyone? Had no one heard his cries—his pleas? Why didn't he hear sirens yet? Someone should've called the cops by now, yet there was nothing. 

"Please In-ho..." He began, taking a deep breath, "Please... Let me go." The man sighed, tilting his head, an obvious no. 

"You said you loved me right? You don't do this to people you love, In-ho—"

"I like the way you say my name..." He finally spoke. He took a deep breath of his own, a small smile forming on his lips, "I'm so happy to have you here, I've been dreaming of this for... Forever. Since I first saw you, so I won't—can't let you go, Gi-hun-a." 

Gi-hun let a scream bubble up from his throat, his attempt to play on the man's feeling failing completely, he turned to anger once again. 

"My boyfriends probably looking for me right now! He won't let you get away with this—He'll  find me! Sang-woo will find me and he'll kill—"

"Don't." Gi-hun's words caught in his throat. 

In-ho's jaw was clenched, the muscles strung tight, "Don't say his name again... Do not bring him up again—You know I hate him." He paused taking a step forward, "I love you, I really do, angel... But if I hear you say his name again I can't promise I'll be able to stay calm... I don't want to hurt you—please don't make me."

Gi-hun shook his head, another scream tore through him. His hands flew up to his head, tugging on black strands, unable to think of any other ways to cope with the situation.

He regretted everything in this moment, every kind word, every smile, every— It wasn't fair. He didn't do anything to deserve this so why?

He collapsed to the floor, dry heaving, shaking. He couldn't fathom how this happened—how he became the object of this twisted man's obsession. It was ridiculous. 

In-ho stood over him silent, watching. For him, it was a sad sight, not at all how he imagine Gi-hun would react to him when they came together. 

The guilt began to rise in his chest, this wasn't supposed to happen— "Baby, I'm sorry—I didn't mean to scare you..." He followed Gi-hun to the floor, pulling him in close, "I just wanted to take care of you—to save you.."

Gi-hun didn't respond anymore, unable to form coherent words through sobs. All he could do was push at In-ho as he tried to caress him, but it didn't deter him for long. He simply reached up to start petting him again. 

They sat like that for awhile, victim and perpetrator. Predator and prey. A clueless Gi-hun and a twisted In-ho. A fly caught in a sticky, claustrophobic web with a spider that was convinced the web was cozy. 

In-ho held him, nuzzled into him like they had been together forever, through lifetimes. Like Gi-hun meant the world to him—it was sickening. 

He felt even more trapped than before. The weight of the man against him, the lack of exits—locks glinting on the door like a taunt. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. No one that knew where he was and—God, Sang-woo must've been worried sick.

When he collected himself, just in the slightest, he spoke again, "I want to go home." His voice was soft, shattered. He knew what In-ho would say. 

"You are home." In-ho ran his hands through his hair smiling, eyes beaming despite the situation. His tears had dried and Gi-hun was in his arms, so of course he was happy. 

"Home is with..." He paused, staring out the window, In-ho sat still, tilting his head, patiently waiting for him to finish. "Home is with—" Gi-hun swallowed, "Sang-woo!" Another sob cracked out of him as he thought of his boyfriend. Why couldn't he keep him safe this time? When it truly mattered...

In-ho pulled away, the distraught look returning to his face, though he said nothing. He just stared at Gi-hun, eyes studying him as if trying to solve a complex puzzle. 

"...He really did a number on you, huh?" In-ho murmured, "That's one's strong spell he's cast..." 

Gi-hun stared at the other man. Spells, demons? It made no sense. 

"Gi-hun, kiss me, please?" In-ho grabbed his hands, holding them in a way that felt sickeningly tender, his thumb brushing over the knuckle of the other man's hand, "If you kiss me, it might help—you can feel how connected we are that way since it's not clicking—"

In-ho froze when he felt a wet glob hit his face, right under his eyes—It was warm, oozing slowly down the side of his cheek. Spit... 

"Fuck you..." Gi-hun pulled his hand away from In-ho's, eyes dulled, shallow like the fight had been drained from them, "We are not connected." 

They sat quiet. Gi-hun braced for a fit, for the man to lash out at his act of blatant disrespect. He sat staring at his hands hoping that whatever happened, this whole stint would just come to an end. The exhaustion from his working day, his walk home, the panic, the adrenaline, and the drug all stacking, pulling him under. He was tired. 

But nothing ever happened. No violence, physical or verbal.  

He looked up slowly, catching the way In-ho's hands shook in his lap, then the quick rise and fall of his chest, all the way up to his face. 

It did nothing to ease Gi-hun's disgust. 

He was flushed, face coated in red. His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes half lidded. He but down harshly into his lip as he panted. Completely, totally, disgustingly aroused—by spit. 

Gi-hun watched as he brought his hand up, sliding his thumb over the glob then brought it to his own lips, greedily sucking the spit off, eyes fluttering as he did so. 

"You fucking creep." Was all Gi-hun could manage through his shock. 

"I'll accept anything and everything you give me, angel." He swallowed hard, running his tongue over his lips, savoring whatever taste left behind from the other man's saliva, "Thank you—Thank you for that."

Gi-hun's face crinkled, contorting in disgust, unable to comprehend his thought process. He was a freak—That's all he could gather looking at the man, red, trembling, and now very clearly hard. He tried his best to avoid looking at the tent in the other man's pants, afraid of what kind of reaction that may cause. 

"Ah—right..." In-ho shook his head, giving a shy laugh, "Sorry, I got carried away—That was completely on you though..." He gave a smirk, teasing him like a very bad flirt, "Kiss me—Well, or I could show you we're meant to be together other ways. I think maybe its because we haven't connected physically yet! Thats the only thing i can think of." He said it matter of fact, like he was about to test some simple hypothesis. 

Gi-hun's eyes darted up to meet his, dread curling in his gut, the ancient instinct to run pulling at him. He didn't though, not yet. He just shifted back, eyes beginning to scan the room for something he could maybe use as a weapon if it came down to it—there were a lot of things. Glass cups, lamps, there were probably knives in the kitchen. "I'm not kissing you, and you will not show me anything."

In-ho frowned, "If we don't at least kiss, how will I save you? How else can I snap you out of this—you'll never see that I'm the one you're supposed to be with—you'll be stuck with that devil clinging to you..." He paused, "If you want more than a kiss, I'll be gentle—I promise... I can make you feel really good if you give me a chance. Please?"

Gi-hun felt his throat tighten at the suggestion, how he began to push into the idea—the knowledge that if he really wanted to have him, there was very little he could do to stop it. Even if he fought him off, he couldn't escape... And the memory of just how strong he was only made Gi-hun feel horribly about his chances in a physical clash with In-ho. He could maybe—maybe—knock him out, but then what?

"If—If I kiss you, will you let me go?" His voice shook, he pleaded with his eyes, held his breath. 

This was a last resort. He prayed, he prayed, he prayed—

"If you kiss me, you won't want to leave, dear." In-ho hummed with finality, "But if for some reason you do, then that wouldn't be enough for me to just let you go..." He pressed his lips together, looking off to the side before he face suddenly brightened up, "This is basically our honeymoon, Gi-hun! What couple isn't together during their first night?" He nodded, a decision made, good for him—horrible for Gi-hun,

"No, of course I can't let you go."

Gi-hun gasped, letting out the breath he'd been holding so deeply. The last spark of hope being extinguished as easily as a candle. 

"I don't understand what you want from me..." He whimpered, "In-ho, I—I was just being nice to you... We aren't meant to be—this isn't some fantasy!" His voice rose with his frustration, "Let me go!" He shouted at him. 

In-ho sucked his teeth, shaking his head, "Why are you denying me so hard? Wouldn't it just be easier to kiss me? You don't have to fight so hard—You're just in denial because of Sang-woo—"

"Keep his name out of your mouth!" He jabbed a finger at In-ho, tired of the way he kept slandering his boyfriend, "You're the one in denial! Not me—You! Get over yourself!" 

In-ho pressed his lips into a flat line, the shine gone from his eyes, smile wiped completely.

"You just won't stop talking about him..." He stood up, towering over Gi-hun's crumpled form on the floor, "Gi-hun, I'll give you one last chance... Kiss me, let me show you what you need to see,"

He peered down at Gi-hun, and in that moment he understood his time was up—he felt the world around him narrow. This was really his last chance. 

"Or I'll do it myself. If you won't give youself to me—If you insist on rejecting my salvation..." He sighed, shaking his head, almost solemnly, "I'm tired of you clinging to that motherfucker, and I'm tired of waiting."

Gi-hun stared up at him—he should've moved sooner. He should've been prepared, anything—In this position, his disadvantage was outrageous.

The silence in the air hung thick around them, louder than any scream Gi-hun could've mustered up. 

"Well?"

Gi-hun swallowed—then nodded. A curt, shaky nod... He just had to get back on his feet. 

In-ho smiled, pleased, the sparkle almost immediately returning to his eyes as if a switch had been flipped. 

He reached a hand out, Gi-hun took it. He let the other man pull him up from the floor—then he struck. 

He shoved at In-ho hard and bolted towards the coffee table next to the couches, grabbing a cup from the table, holding it up in a defensive manner. He tried to make himself look bigger—more confident, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking and he couldn't gather his breath. 

In-ho just stared, his pleasure melting off his face in a matter of seconds when he realized Gi-hun wasn't actually planning to cooperate. 

"I see how it is." He sighed, "I want you to know, I'm not mad at you." He stepped towards him slowly, "I know this isn't what you actually want to be doing."

Gi-hun shook his head vigorously,  "Just stay—stay back, please—please!" He didn't even know what he was saying anymore. Just desperate noises. Begging.

He felt tears well up again as In-ho stalked closer to him, more akin to a predator than he'd been all night. Fear flooded Gi-hun—this was the moment, he either killed the lion or was devoured by it. 

They went into a standstill. Time, the world around them—even the air had frozen, anticipation trickled throughout.

Then In-ho lunged, Gi-hun swung blindly.

And he failed. 

In-ho caught his arm, shoving him back into the wall, twisting his wrist, forcing him to drop the ceramic mug he'd held. 

Gi-hun gasped at the sharp twinge of pain that radiated up his arm, wincing. He tried to shove In-ho away with his free arm, but he simply caught that too and kept him pinned. 

He dropped his arms and threw a harsh punch to his gut, causing Gi-hun to double over, the breath knocked out of him. Tears streamed uncontrollably, he almost threw up.

He collapsed on his knees, reeling from the assault, "I'm sorry, I know that hurt—I'm going to make you feel better though."

He reached around Gi-Hun's torso, throwing him over his shoulder with alarming ease and walked off deeper into his apartment. 

He kicked the door open to his bedroom and let Gi-hun fall onto the bed. 

He whimpered, "Wait—No, no,no! In-ho please—please don't do this!" He willed his body to scramble away, holding his arms out in front of him, defensive and cornered, "Let me try again—a kiss, right? I'll—I'll kiss you—please!"

In-ho smiled softly, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "We'll be doing a lot of kissing, honey. You don't have to worry about it."

He began to work the buttons on his shirt, eyes darkened as he loomed over Gi-hun. He shrugged the shirt off and approached the bed, the mattress dipping in under his weight. He reached for Gi-hun's belt, only for his wrist to be caught in trembling hands.

"You—You don't want me," He gasped through tears, "I—I" His brain wracked for any excuse, anything no matter how small or lame it was, "I don't have a penis!" He yelped, this was the one time he needed transphobia, the one time, "I—I wasn't born a guy, so—" His voice wavered, so?

He didn't know how to continue, he had never had to play into his past this way. It was a last ditch attempt at escape, pathetic and desperate.

In-ho paused, eyebrow raising as he scanned over the man's body. 

Then he laughed, a short genuine laugh as if he'd been told a funny joke.

"Why would I care about that? I love you no matter what." He grinned down at Gi-hun, before attempting to move his hands out of the way, but the taller man wasn't making it easy. 

He squirmed thrashed, and sobbed even harder, barely making out pleas and nonsensical noises. 

In-ho huffed and shifted, yanking the belt from his own pants and straddling the trembling man. He yanked his hands above his head and got to work, securing the belt around his wrists and to the headboard of his bed before dipping back down in between the man's legs. 

He drank in the sight, like a man kneeling before his god. His chest swelled, his heart thumped vigorously. 

"My god—You're beautiful..." He muttered, lowly, reverence laced in every syllable. 

Gi-hun sobbed, shaking his head. He couldn't believe this was happening. his mind played What-ifs on repeat, he wondered what Sang-woo was doing right now. 

Then lips met his, ripping him back to his horrifying reality. He tried to turn his head away, he squirmed to shake In-ho off, but to no avail. 

In-ho gripped his jaw, firmly but not roughly, and continued to delve into his mouth, his tongue swirling over Gi-hun's with a ravenous hunger that made his stomach clench with disgust. 

His mouth was wet—nauseatingly so. 

He ripped his face away, desperate for air, for an end to the assault on his mouth, but he barely got a second of relief. 

In-ho was back on him immediately, moaning into his mouth with no sense of shame. He kissed Gi-hun, sloppy, open-mouthed, desperate. 

Then his hips started to grind down, inconsistent and jerky—like a dog in heat, just eager for friction. The weight of his arousal pressed into Gi-hun's crotch making him shiver. The contact hot and unwelcome. 

He vision began to swim, he felt numb and floaty. His body's last stand—a final attempt at preserving his mind, his soul. 

In-ho continued to assault him with vile kisses, breathy and gasping. He kissed sloppy—his mouth his jaw, trailing to his ear, down his neck then back up again. 

"—Love you—I love you—" He panted between kisses, his tone was sickening to the man pinned under him. 

'Leave me alone—Stop touching me—Stop it, stop it, stop it—!' The words never escaped his throat. They sat just as frozen as him. 

In-ho's hands joined his lips in antagonizing him, beginning to run over his body—up his thighs, under his sweater and over his chest. His head followed their path, lifting his shirt up his chest and moving his flurry of kisses down. 

They started, soft, deceptively so when he first started, one small peck to his sternum. It changed just as quickly as it started though, the man's insatiable hunger making him sloppy. 

He ran his tongue over the soft peaks on his chest until they stiffened, his fingers running over the unoccupied side, only fueled by the unwilling twitch of Gi-hun's body under him. 

It was too much, the incessant grinding in between his legs, the wet of In-ho's tongue. It was disgusting, it permeated. 

No matter how out of it he felt, he couldn't shake the weight—the heat. He squeezed his eyes shut harder, letting his mind wonder elsewhere. Somewhere better, brighter—to Sang-woo.

He hated himself for it, but it was the only way he could justify the way his body began to tremble, the sharp pinch in his gut that bloomed downwards. 

In-ho continued his kissing, while his hands moved from his waist down to his belt. The leather slipped through the metal bracket easily, he tugged it from the loops of his jeans. 

His fingers worked deftly, eagerly to undo the button, lips pressing kisses down his navel as he slip the fabric down his thighs and over his feet. 

His boxers came off right along with his jeans, being discarded haphazardly onto the floor. 

Just like that, he was left restrained and exposed, In-ho's frame planted between his legs keeping them from closing. He stared down at him with dark pools, pupils shot like he had taken the strongest of stimulants. 

"So, so pretty..." He whispered, voice breathy and awestruck.

He lowered his head in between Gi-hun's thighs, placing quick pecks here and sucking dark bruises there while his hands caressed over his stomach. 

He kissed to the conjunction of his thigh and his hip before running the tip of his tongue over his slit. That's all it took for In-ho's composure to melt away. 

He didn't even attempt to take it slow, immediately devouring the man like he had been starving. Like a man finding water in the desert. 

His tongue swirled around the bundle of nerves set between his folds, then followed down. Sucking, slipping inside him. His fingers touching whatever his tongue wasn't; swiping over his clit while his tongue was inside him, and slipping his fingers inside while his tongue traced back up.

He moaned into his folds, the vibration making Gi-hun jump and twitch, 'Sang-woo, Sang-woo, Sang-woo—' His mind clung to the other man's name, repeating it like a mantra. The last way he could deny In-ho as the coil in his stomach cinched and tightened.

The other man ground his hips into the mattress feverishly, chasing his own pleasure, making him even sloppier. Lewd, wet noises rose in the air like a twisted, disgusting symphony.

"—Tastes good, you taste so good—" In-ho whined into him in between movements. 

'shut up and die.' Is what Gi-hun wanted to say, but he didn't dare open his mouth in fear that it might betray him in this very moment. 

One final prod inside of him sent Gi-hun crashing—he bit back any noise, refusing to show In-ho he had been able to feel anything at all. His body couldn't hide it though, his back arched, hips stuttered, and his thigh squeezed around In-ho's head. 

In-ho brought his free hand to squeeze Gi-hun's thigh, shivering like he had been the one who came. His moans vibrated through the taller man as he continued his movements, forcing Gi-hun to ride out his high, greedy. Only stopping when he decided he was done.

He pulled away from the man, sitting up on his heels, beaming down at a broken Gi-hun. He was panting, quivering, sweaty—gross.  His lips and chin coated in spit and slick; he looked like a frothing animal. 

Gi-hun stared into nothing, eyes dulled, face slack. His tears had dried—something inside him broke as the last thread of his dignity snapped. 

In-ho leaned back down over him, fabric of his slacks grinding down into Gi-hun as he pressed himself closer. He planted kisses all over the other man's face, "Did you feel it?" He whispered against his lips, "I did, I felt it—We really were meant to be together..." A noise bubbled in his throat, a mix between a moan and a laugh, "Baby... My angel."

'I'm not your angel... I'm not yours... I hate you—I hate you, I hate you—' He wanted to scream, to cry, to kick, but every movement died before he could even try. His body was uncooperative, overwhelmed, and disconnected.

Hollow. 

In-ho didn't give him long to fully recover from his climax, hand slipping in between then to undo the button on his own pants, fishing himself out. 

He kissed all over Gi-hun's jaw and neck, beginning to leave hickeys and bite marks—irrefutable proof of his degeneracy—while he stroked himself leisurely, in no hurry at all. Only now stopping to savor the moment. 

He placed one last deep kiss to Gi-hun's lips, caressing his face with a sickening gentleness. He lifted his head up, looking into Gi-hun's eyes as he pressed himself against Gi-hun's slit, breath hitching at the contact. 

"I've needed this so badly—Thank you," He dropped his head into the dip of Gi-hun's neck, rubbing himself in between his folds, over his clit and back down until he lined up with his enterance. "Thank you—"

An uncontrolled gasp left Gi-hun, he winced at the intrusion. The other man was thick, heavy; it hurt, but of course he paid no mind to that. 

In-ho huffed, eyebrows furrowed, rolling his hips while he got himself used to the sensation of being inside the other man, "You're tight, baby..." His voice was high-pitched, broken. Cracking like a broken vinyl. 

Gi-hun screwed his eyes shut, a whimper escaped him—not the kind In-ho wanted. The stretch in between his legs was uncomfortable, it killed him on the inside.

Tears pricked his eyes once again, In-ho had really just taken everything from him with so much ease. He tried to replay his times with Sang-woo, how the man ran his fingers over him, smooth, gentle—wanted—to no avail. 

His touched were burned away like paper, replaced with the crawling sensation of In-ho's hands. It consumed Gi-hun, twisted in his stomach like rot. 

His head spun and he didn't bother trying to hold back sobs.

"Are you overwhelmed, dear?" In-ho paused, a thumb brushing under Gi-hun's eye. "I am too—in a good way... I love you, I mean it." He kissed under his eye, Gi-hun sobbed harder. 

"I'm going to move now, okay?" The words flipped a switch in Gi-hun's brain, his body falling away even further from him than it already had. He felt out of it, like he was sitting beside his body as opposed to being inside of it. 

In-ho moved slowly at first, an easy pace as he experimented with rhythm. Hips twitching as his composure trickled away, fighting the urge to cum then and there. That wouldn't have been good, not for him—it would've left Gi-hun unsatisfied and disappointed, he thought. He held it together. 

He settled into his movements, thrusts deep and needy, bottoming out on nearly each one. He kissed and panted along Gi-hun, his angel lying pliant and sweet, all for him; he was elated. 

His head swam, high on euphoria from their unity. His body buzzed with the electric currents of pleasure. His chest felt full, complete. 

He sat up, grabbing Gi-hun's hips and pulling him in closer, Sinking as deep as he could. He pulled one leg up, over his shoulder, hiking the other around his waist as he sped up. 

Moans and filthy nothings slipped out of him uncontrollably as his poise slipped, all semblance of control out the window as he took and took. Every word, every movement, every sound made Gi-hun shrink back further into the dark of his own mind. 

He twitched again when In-ho's fingers found their way in between his legs, thumb swiping over his clit in time with the movement of his hips, urging another orgasm to the surface. 

Gi-hun's hips began to stutter once again, the swole of In-ho's cock setting every nerve on fire with the drag, in and out. 

He didn't want to feel, but the size, the weight, the movement left him no choice. 

He bit down on his lip hard, refusing to make any noise. In-ho sucked his teeth, a hand coming up to grip his jaw, "You'll break your lip, gorgeous..." He muttered between pants, "You don't have to be quiet, my love, I want to hear you." 

Gi-hun glared at him, those words pissed him off, he wasn't sure why, why those specifically, but they stoked the feeling of frustration in his chest. "That's why I'm—" He was cut off my a particularly harsh thrust, his voice wavering, "That's why I'm not making any noise—" His voice came out pathetic on the second pass, the sensation of In-ho deep in his stomach snipping the anger from his voice. 

In-ho raised an eyebrow and hummed, shaking his head, "That's not—nice—" He grunted, lips pulling to form a pout, "Looks like you can't help it though, huh?" He cooed out, proving his point with a harsh, angled thrust. 

Gi-hun gasped, betraying himself. 

"See?" In-ho grinned, pride on full display, "That spot feels good? I got you, baby–" He began to abuse the same spot, thumb circling faster over Gi-hun's sensitive nub, "I told you I'd make you feel good—"

Gi-hun barely stopped the whimper threatening to spill from him, clenching his teeth so hard he thought they might snap. 

His orgasm was building fast, intense pangs of pleasure swimming in his core. In-ho's pace was crazy, deep and unrelenting. He was fucking into him like if he fucked him hard enough they would beome one—like Gi-hun might finally accept him.

He tried to deny him, tugging at his restraints, squirming in In-ho's graps trying to pull his hips away, but his grip was strong, and the belt didn't budge. 

"Ahh—You're doing so good for me, Gi-hun-a, fuck—" His voice was tight, breaking, "I'm so close—cum with me, yeah?" 

"Stop—Ah!" Gi-hun's voice shattered the moment it rose out of him, "Please, I don't want to, I don't want—" Another moan slipped out of him, his eyes trailing down to where they were connected. 

"You sound so good when you beg—" In-ho shivered and huffed, completely lost in the motions, the noises, the smells—Gi-hun's moans and the sound of his wetness as he moved sent sparks of electricity down his spine. He sped up, impossibly fast, borderlining on brutal, even to him. 

"Need it, need it—cum for me!" He let his head tip forward, eyes squeezed shut as the thread split apart, "Cum for me, Gi-hun—baby—please!" He gasped, breathless. His nails dug into Gi-hun's hip and thigh, his jaw clenched. 

Gi-hun whined, his orgasm clawing through him unwillingly—on command as if he were a toy. 

He hated himself. He hated his body. 

His toes curled, back arched, a loud cry escaping him despite how hard he fought it off. His hips pulled away from In-ho's, a weak attempt at escaping the blooming overstimulation. 

In-ho gave several more deep thrusts before following after Gi-hun. His seed spilt hot inside the man, flowing until it dripped out of him. 

In-ho whimpered with his climax, body twitching and heaving as he held Gi-hun close, buried as deep as he possible could be. 

He collapsed forward onto the man, wrapping his arms under and around him, nuzzling into his chest while he caught his breath. 

He laid silent for a short while before tilting his head up to look at Gi-hun, he looked dazed, completely fucked out and loopy. In-ho smiled, triumphant. The sight breathing proof he had done his mission and done it well–there was no way Gi-hun wasn't freed now, no way he didn't understand their connection. 

He let out a contented sigh, laying back down on his chest, a hand beginning to trail and caress over, drawing random patterns in his skin. 

"That was amazing, Gi-hun..." He kissed his jaw, "You are amazing, I love you." 

Gi-hun laid staring at the ceiling, jaw slack, lips quivering. Tears refused to come, his eyes only pulsated with the ache that came from crying too much. His stomach was in knots, twisted and gross. His hole twitched in the aftermath of being used, cum leaked from him—the sensations only serving as cruel reminders that this was reality. This had happened, and he had been powerless to stop it. 

There was no way for him to name his despair, to really say how violated he felt, so he cursed the world instead. He cursed the world for being so cruel, himself for being so weak, In-ho for being twisted, and—

And Sang-woo for not coming to save him this time. 

And the worst part was it wasn't even over. He still wasn't free, trapped under the weight of In-ho's body, his delusions. He knew after this he really wouldn't let him go, his own fantasy fulfilled, justified in his mind.

The man spoke, pulling him away from his spiraling thoughts, "Did I do good?" His voice sounded small,vulnerable. Gi-hun hated it. 

Hated him. 

'Die...Get off of me and die.' Is what his mind said, but once again his lips stayed shut.

"Tired?" He hummed, lifting himself up, "I'll get you a drink and something to clean you with—wait here." 

As if Gi-hun wasn't tied to the bed. As if he could go anywhere. As if there weren't four locks keeping him inside. 

In-ho returned in a few short moments, water and a rag in hand. 

Gi-hun refused the water, so he drank it himself and forced it down his throat. He squirmed at the touch of the rag, so he pried his legs apart and held them in place while he cleaned him. 

Gi-hun was subjected to his sickening care.

Nowhere to run, no one to save him, and no energy to properly fight him off.  

In-ho joined him in laying down once again, curling beside him, wrapping around him like a snake, clammy and inescapable—suffocating him in presence.

"I'm so glad you're mine now." Was the last thing he heard before he began to succumb to the ache under his skin, the weariness that had been forgotten in the throes of stimulation. 

The room was still, quiet. The sheets felt cold against his skin despite the heat surrounding him. 

He didn't want to feel that heat. He didn't want to feel anything. 

He didn't want to be seen, touched, or remembered.

He drifted off, still restrained to a bed that was far away from his, praying when his eyes opened again, it would all have been a sick dream.

fin.