Archive of Our Own ^beta

Halloween, in Seungmin’s humble opinion, is an excuse for people to drink and party all night in risque outfits they presumably don’t have the courage to wear on any other occasion. The excuse isn’t even that big of a factor for Halloween parties, because people would drink and party all night and wear risque outfits all they want, anyway.

The air in Jisung’s apartment is thick with the scent of hairspray, Jisung’s good cologne, and the mimosas that Felix mixed up for them to drink while they got ready.

Around him, his three friends are going around Jisung’s living room, putting the finishing touches on their Halloween costumes, each one swinging their hips as a masterclass in ‘how to wear the sluttiest thing you own and pair it with random animal ears (maybe a tail, too, if you want to go the extra mile)’.

To their credit, Felix and Hyunjin are having the time of their lives with the make-up. Even Seungmin, only wearing a pair of dark wash jeans and a comfortable shirt, looks dolled-up thanks to the glitter that Hyunjin flicked on his cheeks and the liner that Felix straddled his lap to apply on for him.

Seungmin sips on his glass of orange juice and champagne as he watches his friends with amused eyes. Felix, in a slinky white leotard and fishnet tights, flicked eyeliner and a cheap headband of a halo peeking through his blond hair; and Jisung, in a glitter-dusted corset that emphasizes his smaller waist, as he clips on a black cat tail to the belt-loop of his jeans.

“I could have sworn you’d match Felix and be the devil to his angel.” Seungmin muses.

“Minho-hyung loves cats.” Jisung winks, glossy lips curved into a mischievous smirk.

Hyunjin fakes a gag. “Gross. Don’t give me that information.”

Seungmin takes another sip of his drink. To Felix’s credit, he makes great mimosas. He won’t complain if their friends just went here and this is where they spent the rest of the night.

He scrolls through his phone, going between their Life360 circle and various social media sites, speed-reading through the articles about how there’s a suspected serial killer out on the loose, judging by the surge of missing people and static-y camera footage of what looks to be a person in a threatening clown get-up.

Seungmin thinks it’s just a group of friends that want to scare people for the month. It’s October, after all, and there are people that get their shits and giggles by chasing strangers through an empty parking lot with a butcher knife and a scary clown costume.

“Alright, let’s go.” Felix pipes up, twirling around to show off the little angel wings he strapped onto his back. “Channie-hyung just texted, and they’re already there. I don’t want us to get there when the rest of them are too drunk to tell a gargoyle from a goblin.”

Hyunjin giggles, his red glitter-dress shirt loose and tight in all the right places. “I still don’t know whose house we’re going to.”

Seungmin shrugs, the four of them already filing out of Jisung’s apartment after they’ve made their last run-throughs of the area to make sure they didn’t leave anything behind.

Jisung recounts as he locks the door to his apartment. “Jeongin’s blockmate’s friend’s neighbor’s cousin is some eccentric millionaire that thinks Halloween is a holiday that’s larger than life. I don’t know, the six degrees of separation confuse me.”

“That was only five.” Seungmin deadpans.

“That’s how confused I am!” Jisung blusters.

On the way to the outskirts of the city, Hyunjin drives, but Seungmin has a vague recollection that Changbin and Minho are tier designated drivers for the night, so that must be why Hyunjin isn’t sulking about not being able to drink at the party.

The drive to the house takes almost an hour, with it being in a semi-private village that boasts residences that enjoy lavish lifestyles. They end up two streets away from the actual house, since Hyunjin wants to avoid his car being caught in potential crossfires.

The sprawling mansion of the party stands out from the quiet neighborhood. Seungmin can imagine that most families from this area are out of town for vacation, but that doesn’t seem to be an issue either with how far the houses are situated from one another. It’s not even his place to worry about noise complaints, but the control freak in him is relieved that there’s a slimmer chance that the cops will be called on them.

Their host seems to truly be an eccentric millionaire, evidenced by the gothic-looking behemoth of a house, with dark ivy-coloured walls topped with sharp, pointed gables. Eerie orange lights cast long, dancing shadows on the front lawn, mingling with the people that have been loitering the manicured lawn instead of staying inside the large house.

Music spills from the opened windows and doors of the house, bass thumping like a heartbeat, and from where they are, Seungmin believes that there’s even a live DJ in charge of the music.

“It looks like a haunted house,” Seungmin mutters. If it was any other day, he might have been scolded for being rude, but the house is decorated accordingly. It looks like the most populated haunted house in existence.

“I think that was the goal.” Jisung shrugs, grabbing his arm to pull him forward.

“Please promise us that you’ll let go tonight.” Hyunjin urges, almost pouting. “You’re way too young to already be worried about gut health and sugar intake.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m already planning on getting shitfaced, don’t worry.”

Jisung beams. “Yay! I’m so proud!”

They walk past a group of people taking pictures by a massive, fake spiderweb draped over a bush. As they cross the threshold of the front door, Seungmin gets a whiff of the mingled scents of alcohol, sweat, and something sickly sweet—probably the assortment of candy being passed around just as much as the alcohol.

There’s a massive space with a sparkling chandelier flickering above the living room-turned dance floor. There are people feeling the music in the bones, while others are sprawled on the plush sofas pushed against the walls, talking loudly over the music.

“Where are they?” Seungmin speaks over the music.

Felix peeks his head in between his and Jisung’s. “They’re waiting for us in the kitchen!”

When they find the kitchen, the first of their friends that they see is Chan, dressed as a vampire, complete with a dark cape and fake fangs. He’s naturally pale, Seungmin knew that, but it’s emphasized with his outfit tonight.

Hyunjin wolf-whistles as they stalk closer to their friends, interrupting the story that Minho was in the middle of telling. “Look at you, hot stuff.”

Chan laughs, waves the comment off. “My sister had fun dressing me up, I couldn’t refuse when she was so happy.”

Jisung stalks over to Minho, who wraps an arm around Jisung’s waist and pulls him in for a kiss.

“That corset looks so good on you, kitty.” Minho mumbles against Jisung’s lips.

Jisung laughs. “Bought it for you.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Hyunjin deadpans, already in the middle of helping himself to a cup of jungle juice.

Seungmin raises a brow when he sees what Minho is wearing: baggy and cropped jeans, a white button-up shirt under a loose patterned sleeveless top, and framed lenses. “What are you supposed to be?”

“I’m a douche.” Minho shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets coolly.

Felix tilts his head. “Those look like Jeongin’s clothes.”

Minho snickers. “Jeongin must be a douche.”

Jeongin, dressed coincidentally in an all-black attire save for the devil-horned headband on top of his head, punches Minho on the shoulder. “Asshole.”

“I’m a douche, actually.” Minho points out, matter-of-factly. Then, he giggles and holds Jeongin in a headlock.

Jeongin whines and stamps his foot, but doesn’t fight back past elbowing Minho in the ribs.

“Where’s Changbin-hyung?” Felix asks.

Chan shrugs. “He was with us a few minutes ago, but he found some people he knew and went off with them.” He hands Seungmin a jello shot. “Drink up, puppy boy.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes but accepts the offering. It’s hardly the time to be offended when his friends liken him so much to a puppy that he couldn’t think of any other costume to go with tonight.

He sees the appeal to it, to an extent.

“Candy!” Felix bubbles, his hand already fisting the glass bowl of assorted candies placed on the counter. He offers the handful to all of them, then shoves the rest inside his mouth.

Seungmin chews on the hard candy, pleased by the sweetly artificial flavour of fruits that coat his tongue. He doesn’t indulge in candy much, so he’ll consider tonight a cheat day. Jeongin hands him another jello shot, the gelatinous cube of cherry-flavoured alcohol mixing pleasantly with the candy still in his mouth.

They spend the next hour bouncing between the punch bowl and a giant bowl of candy, snagging chocolate bars and chewy gummies. It doesn’t take long before the sugar and alcohol begin to take effect, and the music sounds less like a chaotic thump and more like a lull that he can feel in his bones.

“Happy Halloween!” Felix giggles, pushing another jello shot in Seungmin’s hand while Minho fills his cup with jungle juice. “Drink up, Seungminnie!”

Seungmin does, laughing between swallows because he sees the face Jisung makes when he eats a sour piece of candy. Felix giggles and wipes off the line of liquid spilling from the corner of Seungmin’s mouth. “You’re a mess.”

He doesn’t know which of them move to the dance floor first, but before he knows it, Seungmin is pressed between Jeongin and some other person he doesn’t know, letting the music dictate the way his body moves against the other people that are gathered in the living room. Through the haze of alcohol, Seungmin can see Jisung and Minho a couple of people away, but he can’t see the others.

Has he seen Changbin around yet? Seungmin doesn’t remember.

There are hands on his hips, someone pulling him backward. When Seungmin cranes his head, he comes face-to-face with a man he doesn’t know. He’s wearing a cheap Iron Man outfit, which is just a simple shirt that has the hero’s suit printed on.

He can’t really judge the guy, Seungmin is just wearing jeans and a dog-eared headband.

“Do I know you?” Seungmin internally nags himself when he hears how he’s slurred his words.

The man smirks, just slightly, and nudges Seungmin closer, until they’re back-to-chest. “Let me get you a drink so that you can get to know me.”

Pick-up lines don’t usually work on Seungmin, but he’s had more alcohol than he’s had in months, at a rate faster than he usually drinks. That, and the amount of candy in his system.

So, Seungmin nods and lets the cheap Iron Man drag him to the kitchen to fix him a drink. Seungmin leans against the wall and closes his eyes, the bright lights of the kitchen a dizzying contrast to the dim ones from the living room.

He thinks this should be his last drink for now. He doesn’t want to throw up on a random eccentric millionare’s lawn.

“Here you are, puppy.” the man says.

Seungmin opens his eyes barely and accepts the cup. He takes a sip, humming under his breath when he tastes vodka mixed with something else. He peers inside the cup and his brows furrow when he looks at the perfectly clear liquid, save for the three small sugar plum candies that were dropped in the vodka, already dissolving.

The colour of the candies bleed into the clear liquid like watercolour. It’s so distracting that Seungmin almost forgot to take another sip.

His attention is taken away from his cup when the man leans his arm over him, almost like he wants to trap Seungmin into the wall. Cheap Iron Man aside, the man is attractive, but Seungmin isn’t in the mood to hook up with someone he won’t remember the name of.

“I have to look for my friends.” Seungmin reasons after taking another sip of the drink. It’s actually really good. If Seungmin didn’t just cut himself off with this last drink, he would have asked for another one.

No matter how drunk he is, he’s not rude, so he tips his head back and drinks every last drop of his drink, swallowing past the burn of vodka going down his throat.

“Stay with me a little longer. I don’t even know your name.” the man puts a hand on his waist, as if that would convince Seungmin to stay.

“My name is none of your business.” Seungmin pushes past the man and stumbles out of the kitchen, suddenly more dizzy than he remembers himself to be.

In the five minutes he’s been in the kitchen, it seems that the party has intensified. The music that has been a contant thumping in his bones now feels like a physical force he’s pushing against, a pulsing beat that rattles his bones and reverberates even until his teeth.

He tries to look for his friends, checking the areas he saw them last, but the crowd continues to move in a swirling mosaic of colours and shapes. Even the floor beneath his feet feels spongy, as if he’s wearing high heels and walking on a mattress, and he has to grab onto a passing ghost-costumed person to steady himself lest he want to fall on the floor.

Okay, time for air.

He pushes through the crush of bodies, forgetting his quest to find his friends. He can do that later, after he’s gotten away from the noise and the way that the pirate’s tricorn hat is twisting and writhing like it’s a living thing on top of that blonde woman’s head.

For as packed as the house and front lawn is, the backyard is empty save for a few couples huddled by the patio, talking and laughing in hushed tones, all of them all clearly intoxicated. The music from inside is immediately muffled, a dull thudding in the back of his head rather than screeching in his ears.

Even here, the air is still thick with the scent of perfume, alcohol, and sweat; it’s a heavy, suffocating blanket that makes Seungmin’s head spin.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and with faulty vision, he unlocks it to see that he left it open on his Life360.

“Huh?” Seungmin tilts his head when he sees Changbin’s icon blinking away from where the rest of them are. It’s not too far, but it’s clear that Changbin isn’t in the house.

Seungmin blinks, hard, and for a brief moment, he considers just laying down on the patio and falling asleep. Or he should text their group chat and let them know how dangerously close he is to being out like a light—

But beyond the manicured grass, the mansion’s property line ends in a dense, dark line of trees, leading to the woods, shrouded in the darkness of the night. It’s almost eerie. Fitting for Halloween.

And, for some reason, that’s where Changbin’s icon is leading him.

Without a second thought, Seungmin walks across the dry grass. He stumbles over the low, decorative fence and pushes through a cluster of ferns, blinking through the haze in his head. The darkness under the tree canopy is almost unnerving save for the thin slivers of moonlight that let Seungmin see where his feet are going, but not anything else past that.

His eyes refuse to adjust to the darkness. It must be the alcohol, or the candy, or it’s just that dark. The moonlight filtering through the branches creates dancing, liquid figures, the air smells like damp earth and pine, and Seungmin feels like he’s floating rather than stumbling through overgrown roots and bushes.

Then, he hears the rustling of leaves, somewhere in front of him.

Seungmin stops, his balance wavering, and when he stumbles, he almost slams into the tree right next to him. His heart stutteres against the fog in his head, some unexplainable sense of fear making goosebumps rise across his arms.

The rustling grows louder. Grunting and the sick squelch of something Seungmin can’t see but makes his stomach churn nonetheless.

He squints, but the shadows continue to blur together. He takes a slow step forward, and then another, clutching at the rough bark of nearby trees to steady himself.

He hears more rustling. It’s not from the wind; it’s a deliberate, scraping noise, like something being dragged through the dry leaves.

Then, he sees it.

Through the small gap in the gnarled trees, the moonlight cuts into a glade. Right in the middle of it, a figure is illuminated, and Seungmin’s alcohol-addled mind takes him a few long, breathless seconds to figure out what he’s looking at.

A figure dressed all in black, save for the clown mask covering his face. It’s not a sad or happy clown, made for fun to be worn as costumes. It looks more like the type that scarers would wear at haunted house attractions, a red grin painted on a stark white face and bloody streaks spilling from the eyes.

Seungmin’s mind takes even longer to grasp the horror of what he discovered. In one hand, the clown holds a long, gleaming kitchen knife; and when his eyes trail downward, he sees two bodies lying still on the grass.

His mind screams at him to move, to run, but his feet feel heavy, his ankle slips and his vision blures, and his foot catched on a thick root hidden in the undergrowth. A loud ‘crack’ echoes through the air as he stumbles backward on the forest floor.

The clown’s head snaps to his direction, its painted smile unmoving.

The buzzing in Seungmin’s head turns into a high-pitched whine as adrenaline floods his system. His mind screams at him to Run, you idiot! but his body still feels disconnected, moving through molasses.

He turns, clumsily, not even given the chance to stand on his feet before his foot slips on a pile of leaves. He yelps, tears blurring his already hazy vision, but he shoves himself off the ground in a desperate attempt to gain speed.

He can hear the clown running after him, and suddenly Seungmin is terrified of the sound of rustling leaves. His own movements are sluggish and uncoordinated, the darkness not doing him any favours when his legs feel like lead and his vision swims in and out of focus.

A tree branch reaches out like a skeletal arm, dragging him down. He blinks, too slow to dodge, and he scrapes his cheek against the rough bark. He stumbles and collapses onto the forest floor, his arm aching upon contact.

“No!” Seungmin sobs when the clown catches up to him in that same second. It reaches down with its bloodied gloved hand, the grip on his ankle immediately unforgiving.

A low, mocking chuckle echoes from his chest. “Wandered off, dog?”

Seungmin kicks and thrashes, but strength leaves his body when he’s dragged through twigs and rocks by a killer clown with a bloodied knife in one hand and Seungmin’s leg in the other. Roots and rocks scrape against his back, the leaves cling to his clothes, and his vision refuses to clear up.

Seungmin sobs and tries to scream, but the only sounds that come out are pathetic, choked gasps. He tries to grab onto anything—a tree, a bush, an overgrown root—but his fingers slip every single time, until he’s pulled back into the pale circle of moonlight where the two bodies lie, still and lifeless, painting the forest floor with their blood.

Through his tears, Seungmin can get a better look at the two bodies. Their costumes are torn, limbs folded in unnatural positions. One of them is dressed as a fairy, her iridescent wings torns and crumpled under her mangled body, while the other is a pirate with his eyepatch askew.

“You wanted to join this party instead?” the clown rasps, standing over him with the knife raised and poised to stab through Seungmin’s stomach with one wrong move.

The clown bends down and raises the knife to Seungmin’s face. He freezes, blood running cold as he tries his hardest with his swimming vision to follow the line that the blade draws from the tip of his nose to his forehead.

“I won’t—won’t tell anyone what I saw, I promise.” Seungmin tries to bargain, though his words are slurring and his hands feel damp with what he can only imagine to be blood. He can’t turn his head down to look lest he want the clown to nick him in the eye.

A scoff, cruel and cold. “Oh, I’m sure you won’t, dog.” the clown flicks his wrist, using the knife to throw Seungmin’s headband off his hair, now a forgotten piece of fabric on the bloody grass. “You’re loyal like that, aren’t you?”

The voice. Even through the distorted, buzzing chaos in his head, a flicker of familiarity sparks in Seungmin's mind. The raspy baritone is impossible to forget, a comforting sound he's heard countless times, from late-night gaming sessions to drunken karaoke.

It doesn't belong to a monster.

It belongs to—

"Changbin?" Seungmin's voice is a broken whisper, thick with tears and a bone-deep confusion. He looks at the figure above him, but his mind still sees the killer clown.

He sees the wicked, painted smile and the dark, hollow eyes. The incongruity of the voice and the image sends a fresh wave of terror through him, and he begins to sob harder, the sobs wracking his body.

The clown clicks his tongue, but he lowers the arm holding the knife. “I should have known you could tell, Seungminnie.” he crouches, bringing the blade of the knife down. “But I didn’t think you’d figure me out so fast.”

Seungmin’s body locks up, his tear-filled eyes wide as the clown drags the flat side of the knife from his stomach to his chest. The pressure is light, but it’s enough to send Seungmin into a full-blown panic. A scream rips from his throat as he thrashes against the ground.

The clown laughs harder, a breathless, breathless sound that rings in Seungmin’s ears. "You're so fun when you're scared," the clown whispers, leaning down close to Seungmin’s ear. “If I’d known, I would have pointed a knife at you long ago.”

“Please don’t hurt me.” Seungmin cries.

The knife glints under the faint light, catching Seungmin's tear-blurred vision. His chest heaves, every breath ragged, while the clown only tilts his head at him, thoroughly amused.

Seungmin gasps when the knife slips under his shirt, the metal cold and wet from the blood it’s drenched in.

“Say my name, baby.” the clown presses the flat end of the blade under Seungmin’s belly button, taunting.

“Changbin—” Seungmin chokes on a sob, mind reeling from the fog of fear and confusion.

Fingers hook beneath the edge of the mask. A sharp tug and the grotesque grin of the clown falls to the bloodied grass under them.

Changbin’s face emerges, his damp hair clinging to his temples, his lips curled into something as dark as the smile on the mask he was wearing. His eyes burn with something unreadable, almost invisible to Seungmin’s swimming vision.

“See?” Changbin murmurs, voice low, as he drags the knife higher on Seungmin’s stomach. “No monster, puppy. It’s just your Changbin-hyung.”

Seungmin’s heart lurches. Relief, betrayal, terror—they all collapse into each other. “What did you do to them?”

“That’s nothing of your concern.” Changbin only chuckles, crouching lower until his breath ghosts hot against Seungmin’s ear. “I won’t hurt you, puppy. You know I never would.”

Seungmin’s body jerks when Changbin slips the knife out from under his shirt. His head feels heavy, too heavy for his neck to hold up, and the edges of his vision continue to blur in and out like a faulty screen.

“Can’t—hyung—how could you—” his words slur, voice trembling as though his words are getting dragged through mud. He tries to push at Changbin’s arm, but his strength is draining faster than he can muster it up.

“You won’t tell anyone, right?” Changbin whispers, eyes flickering with something dark. “You won’t do that to your hyung, right?”

“You killed...” Seungmin whimpers. “Why can’t I—can’t think...”

Changbin grins, as if the sight of Seungmin writhing on the dirt is pleasing. His grip tightens on the knife and he keeps it poised just beneath Seungmin’s collarbones, the flat edge of it cold on the warped senses of Seungmin’s heated skin.

“Did you let someone slip something in your drink, Seungminnie?” Changbin muses, like it’s funny.

Like Seungmin didn’t just find out that he’s a murderer.

Like he didn’t just drag Seungmin by the leg and throw him in the middle of his two victims.

“Poor thing, can’t even open your eyes. Would be a shame if we let those drugs go to waste, would it?”

Seungmin whines, a broken sound, his limbs twitching weakly as he tries to resist the heaviness keeping him pinned on the bloodied leaves of the forest floor.

His body won’t listen to him, his mind a storm he can’t navigate, leaving him drowning in the haze of whatever drugs he’s ingested and the sharp edge of fear that comes with finding out that he’s at the mercy of one of his best friends, right in the middle of two dead bodies.

As if it was just waiting for acknowledgement, the drug works its way deeping, pulling Seungmin’s thoughts apart like wet paper.

Fear spikes sharp one second, then dulls to something heavy and sluggish, leaving him gasping in urgency and confusion. The tears on his cheeks feel hot, but the rest of his body shivers in the cold air of the forest.

The knife against his skin is real—Seungmin knows that it’s real, blade and blood and all—but everything else starts to waver.

Changbin’s face wavers the most, shifting like a reflection in the water. One second, he’s looking up at the familiar friend he knows, comforting and reliable and sweet; and the next, he’s staring at the cold eyes of a serial killer, cruel and menacing and terrifying.

And then Seungmin feels a pair of lips on his, a tongue pushing past his lips and forcing itself between his teeth, wandering and intrusive, but Seungmin melts into it like it’s the only thing he’s capable of doing.

The intrusion of tongue and teeth should feel invasive, but it’s grounding in its own twisted way, the overwhelming feeling slowly seeping in from his core to the tips of his toes. He closes his eyes tighter when he gets the smallest taste of blood, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he forces himself to remember that this is Changbin, that he’s safe, even if the person kissing him to the dirt is covered in blood and wielding a knife.

“Hyung—” Seungmin moans, the noise raw and desperate, hips jerking weakly beneath Changbin’s own body.

Saliva slicks his chin as Changbin breaks away just far enough to bite down on Seungmin’s lower lip, digging his teeth on the flesh until it’s swollen. He must have dropped his knife, because there’s one hand on Seungmin’s thigh and another pressing on his stomach, keeping him pinned against the cold earth.

It doesn’t matter where the knife is. Seungmin is consumed by the way Changbin’s teeth clash with his, his tongue prodding until he can’t breathe or think, the way he can taste sugar and alcohol, then sweat and dirt and blood.

“I’ve got you, baby, don’t worry.” Changbin whispers. A thick cloud of fog goes over Seungmin’s mind before he processes the fingers reaching for the button of his jeans.

“No—No, stop! Stop!” Seungmin thrashes, but his limbs feel detached, even as he’s able to kick his leg to create distance between them.

He rolls over, winces when he lands on his hurt arm, and he tries to crawl away, but it’s not a second later when a hand on his ankle drags him back to where he was. Seungmin’s nails dig into the soil as he claws forward, desperate for escape.

Changbin’s laughter cuts through the haze, sharp and distorted, echoing in his head. It bends; deep and monstrous, then the same booming laugh he hears on lazy afternoons. The forest spins and stretches unnaturally, trees bending at impossible angles as though they’re mocking his attempts to save himself.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Changbin grunts. He digs his knee on Seungmin’s spine to keep him pinned on the ground.

Seungmin hears shuffling above him, and through his tears, he makes out a single bloodied-glove being discarded in front of him.

Right next to the bloodied body of the dead fairy.

Seungmin sobs again. Changbin takes his knee off his back but he presses down on him with his palm, slowly dragging down his body until it rests above the hem of his pants. The touch is deliberate, and the fog in Seungmin’s mind makes everything feel disconnected.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how long I’ve been waiting for a taste of you.” Changbin’s voice is loud in the dead of the forest.

Seungmin doesn’t have to crane his head back to know that there’s a satisfied smirk on the older’s face, knowing that Seungmin had stumbled into him and served himself on a silver platter, drugged and terrified and all that.

Seungmin trembles under the weight of Changbin’s hand, his nerves alive with a mixture of fear and the unbearable heat pooling low in his belly. His nails scrape the dirt until soil is packed under his fingers, desperate to keep crawling, even as his mind swims with a need to keep Changbin’s hands on him.

“Hyung, please—” his voice cracks on a sob. Seungmin isn’t sure if he’s begging to be let go or if he’s begging for more.

Changbin leans down until his mouth brushes the shell of Seungmin’s ear, puffing out air in heavy breaths. “Please what?” his tone is almost cruel, almost sadistic, and a twisted part of Seungmin’s brain revels in it. “You want me to stop, Seungminnie? Let my puppy go home lost and confused and unsatisfied?”

The question lingers in the fog of Seungmin’s head, thoughts too fractured to form a cohesive answer. The forest tilts, shadows stretching long and menacing, visual proof that he could scream all he wants and the trees would only swallow up any sounds he’d make.

But even through the distortion, even through the phantom dead eyes of the pirate lying two feet away from him, Changbin’s breath is warm. His spit feels good, cooling on Seungmin sweaty, dirty skin as he trails wet kisses along Seungmin’s nape and the side of his neck.

Seungmin shudders, whimpering as his legs kick uselessly against the forest floor. Changbin’s mouth closes around the back of his neck, tongue and teeth digging into his skin and Seungmin loses even more strength in his body.

“Hyung, please—” he moans, cheek pressed to the dirt, practically motionless under Changbin’s body.

“I got you, baby, no need to think.” Changbin whispers in his ear. He drags his blood-smeared hand under Seungmin’s body, expertly undoing the button of his jeans and pulling the zipper down.

Seungmin gasps when Changbin’s hand slides under his underwear in the next seconds, his body arching instinctively to the touch. The panic in his chest twists into something sharper, more tangled, a cocktail of terror and lust.

“You’re hard, puppy.” Changbin coos as he wraps his hand around Seungmin’s cock, already hard and leaking. He palms Seungmin’s cock, chuckling in disbelief when Seungmin ruts into his hand. “You want my help, right?”

The haze makes it impossible to fight, but maybe that’s the point—every weak thrash, every strangled protest, all of it just feeds into the heat pooling deep in Seungmin’s core, begging him to let the older do as he pleases.

“Help, hyung, please. Help me.” Seungmin’s words are slurred, alcohol and drugs molding his syllables together.

He almost cries when Changbin lets go of his cock with nothing more than a teasing tug. His hips buck into the dirt, searching for friction, but the older hikes his hips up to grant him space to tug Seungmin’s jeans and underwear down until the bends of his knees.

Seungmin whines when the cold air hits his bare thighs, his body instinctively curling before Changbin shoves him flat against the dirt again.

“You’re on something pretty strong, aren’t you?” Changbin coos. He presses his crotch against the cleft of Seungmin’s ass, letting him feel the strain of Changbin’s cock through his pants.

Seungmin’s hips jerk backwards, chasing even the rough texture of Changbin’s pants and the outline of his erection. He moans at the feeling, even when he’s not getting what he really wants, because it’s still something.

“Stay still.” Changbin commands with a rumble that vibrates through the air around them. One hand grips the side of Seungmin’s hip, bare now that his shirt has ridden up his chest, while his other hand is lifted and brought down in a rough slap that makes Seungmin’s body freeze.

Changbin hums, pleased with how pliant Seungmin is. His cold fingers trace the curve of Seungmin’s ass, deceptively gentle, before spreading him open.

“Hyung,” Seungmin whines when he feels Changbin’s lips on the crack of his ass, leaving a wet kiss on it, before his tongue dips down and licks a long line over his hole. “Hyung, Changbin-hyung!”

“I don’t have lube, puppy.” Changbin tells him. “We’ll have to make do with what we have here.”

Seungmin peels his eyes open and chokes when he sees Changbin reach over to the lifeless corpse of the fairy and press into her stomach. The squelching sound of Changbin digging into the body makes his stomach turn, even more so when Changbin’s hand comes back up covered in blood, dripping down his wrist in excess.

Seungmin gasps at the sight, the fog in his mind twisting every touch and breath into something more urgent. The forest continues to bend and warp at the edges of his vision, but Changbin is an anchor: hot, heavy, and terrifyingly real.

The first push of a fingertip has Seungmin clawing into the dirt once more. “Hyung—that’s—blood—don’t, please don’t—”

“We’re making do.” Changbin growls, shoving in deeper, twisting his finger until Seungmin’s hole clenches around his knuckle. “You’ll take every fucking thing I give you, Seungmin.”

Seungmin moans, raw and broken, pushing back even as he squirms. His mind is a storm—fear spiking then dissolving into molten heat—but his body betrays him, opening under Changbin’s relentless fingers.

A second finger slides in, scissoring him open, his hole clenching around Changbin’s fingers as his nails dig into the soil and he sobs, a mess of fear and desperation. “Binnie-hyung, please, I can’t.”

That’s someone’s blood that Changbin is working into his body, fucking him on his fingers while he stains Seungmin’s guts with the blood of people that he doesn’t even know. People that Seungmin had caught him on the tail-end of killing. And now, here Seungmin is, his ass in the air and cheek on the dirt, sobbing as his hips rock back as Changbin curls his fingers inside of him.

“You’re already taking it,” Changbin reminds him, bending over him, his breath hot and heavy on Seungmin’s temple. He thrusts his fingers harder, sharper, until Seungmin’s cries twist into broken moans. “Tell me the truth, baby, you love it, don’t you?”

The smell of blood is everywhere: thick, metallic, clinging to the damp night air until it coats Seungmin’s tongue. It gets him even dizzier, his chest heaving harder, the haze in his head keeping that sick, twisted part of him intoxicated.

He whines when Changbin crooks his fingers just right, his entire body jerking despite Changbin’s body pinning him down. Seungmin’s cheek grinds against the dirt, smearing mud and streaks of blood across his cheek. It’s only now that it registers that he’s lying in a pool of blood.

“I—Binnie—I love it, ah, please—more, more, more.”

A third finger forces its way inside, the stretch brutal and relentless. Seungmin’s body siezes around it, his back arching as his hole clenches. The sharp reek of iron fills his lungs, thick and suffocating, mixing with the hot string of tears sliding over his cheeks. His brain is working overtime, trying to tell him that he’s in danger, that the corpses around him are real, but his body only clenches down on Changbin’s fingers like it’s starving for him.

“There you go, baby, isn’t it better when you tell the truth?” Changbin coos, twisting his fingers harshly inside of Seungmin.

Seungmin can feel the blood dripping down his thighs, coating him in Changbin’s crime. The obscene squelch of Changbin’s fingers doesn’t stop, stretching his hole and filling the silent night with his ragged breathing.

“Ah, haa, Binnie-hyung.” Seungmin squeals when Changbin’s fingers brush against his prostate. His hips push back against Changbin’s hand, desperate for more of it.

Changbin smirks against the back of his shoulder, then drags his teeth to the side of his neck as he bites down on his soil-layered skin. “Let me hear you, puppy. I’m the only one that can hear you.”

The words brand themselves in the fog of Seungmin’s mind. His sob dissolves into a moan when Changbin licks behind his ear.

“Please—ah—don’t stop.” Seungmin is sure that his skin is slick with blood and soil, he can taste it when he moans, but the line between fear and want have blurred until he can’t separate them anymore.

Changbin pumps his fingers ruthlessly, dragging sounds out of Seungmin that echo in the dead forest. His cock is leaking between his legs, begging for more, but all Seungmin can do is cry and moan as he trembles under Changbin’s touch.

“Did you ever expect to find yourself like this, Seungmin-ah?” Changbin breathes out, almost taunting. “Spread out under me, lying in the blood of strangers I’ve killed?”

Seungmin shakes his head, digging his fists in the soil as Changbin’s fingers drive deeper inside of him. “You’re a murderer.”

“And you’re my little puppy.” Changbin grunts, each thrust of his fingers rougher than the last, purposeful in its cruelty, leaving Seungmin’s body clenching around the intrusion. “You’ll find yourself like this every time I get the urge to pick up that mask, Seungmin-ah.”

The dirt beneath him is damp and sticky, his cheeks and neck caked with blood and soil, and his tear-soaked eyes catch a glimpse of the clown mask, forgotten under the moonlight.

“Binnie-hyung, you killed them.” Seungmin’s voice is broken, desperate, and high with subdued panic. He kicks his legs weakly, but it only makes Changbin digs his free hand on his hip with a bruising grip.

“I did,” Changbin laughs, spreading his fingers inside of him, rubbing relentlessly at his prostate until Seungmin jerks and trembles in a full-body shudder. “I’ll bring you along with me next time, baby. Bathe you in their blood and fuck you stupid, like now.”

Seungmin wails, his body seizing around the fingers stretching his hole. His mind fragments completely—fear, arousal, guilt, relief one on top of the other.

“Hyung, wan’ you, please, please, please.” he babbles around the dirt in his mouth. “Can’t take it, hyung, I need you—ah—need you in me.”

He thinks of it: of Changbin dragging him out in the dead of the night, his face covered by that clown mask, menacing and dangerous. He thinks of Changbin’s next victims, their blood splattered on empty alleys or a forest just like this one, of Changbin pushing him to the ground or against the wall and fucking him with the blood of his victims staining their skin.

It stares at him. Taunting. Promising him that Changbin won't let him go after tonight. Not after this. Lust and shame and guilt pool deep in his gut.

“Fuck me, please, hyung, I need it—need you.” Seungmin feels like he’s overheating, most likely thanks to whatever laced candies have been slipped into his drink. “Changbinnie-hyung, please—”

“Shit, baby, look at you.” Changbin curses. He thrusts his fingers all the way to the second knuckle and chuckles darkly when Seungmin writhes beneath him. “Fucked dumb already when you’ve just had my fingers.”

His hips push back into Changbin’s hand, his cock hard and leaking between his legs, begging for more. Begging for anything more that Changbin can give him.

Then, Changbin pulls his fingers out. Seungmin whines at the emptiness, his hole clenching helplessly, and he uses what little strength he has to hold his hips up by himself, slick and trembling, swaying it as best as he can, wanting to be filled.

“Be patient, Seungmin-ah.” Changbin mutters darkly, helping Seungmin pull his hips up. “You’re opened up and crying, you don’t even care that you’re covered in blood.”

Seungmin barely registers the sound of a zipper being undone, the rough drag of denim and cotton being pushed down. He blinks his sticky eyes into the darkness and sees Changbin reach into the bodies once more and slick his hand up with more blood.

He whines when he finally feels the heavy heat of Changbin’s cock pressing between his legs. He can feel the length of him throbbing against his inner thighs, brushing just between his balls.

Seungmin wiggles his hips again, his own cock useless as it spills precum on the forest floor. “Wan’ your cock, Bin-hyung.”

“You’ll get it.” Changbin hisses as he jerks himself off, smearing blood and precum over his shaft to lube it up as best as he can. Seungmin’s hole puckers around air, desperate to suck him in.

The stretch is brutal from the first push. Changbin doesn’t give him a second’s grace, forcing the head of his cock past the tight ring of Seungmin’s hole. Seungmin’s moan breaks off into a scream, his back arching until his chest is pressed to the dirt, fingers clawing into the soil as his body thrashes between the pain of being split open and the desperate relief of finally being filled.

“Hyung—I, oh God, hyung, too big—I can’t—” Seungmin’s words slur into his sobs, tears streaming hot across his dirt-smeared cheeks. His hole clenches the more Changbin pushes into him, and he doesn’t know if he’s trying to push Changbin out or suck him in deeper.

Changbin’s grip on his hips is merciless, the only thing keeping his ass up. “You begged for this, baby.” he growls against Seungmin’s ear, every word vibrating through Seungmin’s overheating body. “I’m only giving you what you want, because I’m a good hyung that takes care of his shit-faced puppy.”

The more Changbin pushes in, the more Seungmin breaks down. His moans break off into whines and whimpers, the haze in his mind keeping him exactly where Changbin wants. He trembles in his place, too weak to fight against something that feels too good to resist.

When Changbin bottoms out, pressed flushed against Seungmin’s ass, he lets out a wet sob, the heat in his core still unsatiated even when he feels so full.

At Changbin’s first thrust, Seungmin lets out a raw, guttural moan that almost sounds inhuman. It rips through the forest, loud and full.

“Binnie-hyung, ah, hyung—’m so full.” Seungmin gasps, but his hips buck back desperately, meeting Changbin’s thrusts and matching the rhythm that he’s set without waiting for Seungmin to adjust to the stretch.

“If I knew you’d be like this, I’d have drugged you myself.” Changbin snarls, snapping his hips into Seungmin’s ass. “Wonder if you’ll grow a tolerance to it, or if you’d eat candy off the palm of my hand if it makes you feel this good. What is it, Seungmin-ah? Is it the blood or the drugs? The alcohol? Or are you just a cockslut?”

Every word vibrates in Seungmin’s skull, tangled with the pounding of his heart, until there’s nothing left but the sensation of Changbin’s cock: rough, relentless, and consuming.

“Don’t stop, don’ stop, hyung, you feel s’good.” Seungmin’s voice is hoarse, breaking apart with every ragged moan that Changbin’s cock punches out of him. “Changbin, ah, s’good, hyung—I can’t—need more, faster, faster, please, hyung, need more.”

Changbin responds with a sharp series of thrusts that makes Seungmin choke on his screams, the pain coursing through him immediately melting into something hotter and heavier and curling low in his belly.

Every thrust is deliberate and crushing, Changbin’s cock dragging along the his walls until the younger’s entire body jolts with each snap of his hips. His sobs climb higher, only broken by his moans, but beneath the fear in his whimpers is the unmistakable sound of want.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Seungmin lets out in little gasps.

Changbin grunts, pulls Seungmin’s hips back and forces him to a different angle. “Louder, baby, the only people that can hear you are dead.”

Changbin pulls out until only the head of his cock is inside, before he slams back to the hilt in one smooth thrust. Seungmin’s voice cracks on a moan, fresh tears lining his eyes when he makes out the unmoving bodies in front of him.

Seungmin’s head lolls to the side, the metallic smell of blood clinging thick in the night air, masking the scent of sweat and sex. Each breath Seungmin makes tastes like rust, sharp and suffocating, his sweat cold as it drips down his temples.

“I—hyung, ah, please, I can’t—”

Seungmin can’t think. He can’t breath. He can’t see anything past the dirt caked under his nails. He can’t feel anything that’s not Changbin’s hands pressing bruises on his hips and his cock ramming into his hole, blood dripping down the back of his thighs.

“Changbin—haaa, I’m close—can’t, I can’t.”

Changbin holds his hips up, adjusts the arch of Seungmin’s back as he drives into him with brutal precision while Seungmin’s body convulses under him. “Don’t think, puppy. Just break for me.”

His chest heaves, lungs straining, and the haze makes it feel like he’s drowning in fire and ice all at once.

It tears through him violently, his orgasm ripping out broken, breathless sobs as his cock spills out thick ropes of cum that settle as a puddle on the forest floor. His body siezes, his walls clenching around Changbin, who continues to snap his hips into him as Seungmin comes untouched.

The release is overwhelming, pain and terror dissolving into a bliss that Seungmin has never known until now, so sharp it hurts, especially as Changbin fucks him through it.

Changbin gives him no time to come down from it. As Seungmin’s orgasm wracks through him, Changbin tightens his grip on his hips and keeps thrusting, rough and relentless.

“T-Too much, hyung, ah, haa—I can’t,” the overstimulation hits immediately.

Changbin leans down and snaps his teeth at Seungmin’s earlobe, growling low and sharp in between his own moans. “You’re not done until I say you’re done.”

His cock twitches uselessly between his twitching legs, his entire body too raw and too sensitive, but the continual drag of Changbin’s cock against his walls sends him spiraling. He feels himself clenching around Changbin, squeezing tighter around the older’s cock as moans continue to spill from his swollen lips.

“See, puppy? I knew you can. Hyung knows best.” Changbin pounds into him harder and faster, the wet slap of their skin mixing with the coppery tang of blood in the air.

It doesn’t take long before Seungmin’s second orgasm crashes into him without warning. His sobs break into incoherent cries. His words collapse into pleas that sound more like moans, fueling Changbin to roll his hips harder.

Changbin moans, then growls, driven by the tight, desperate grip around his cock. He slams into Seungmin harder, rutting into him like he owns him—and Seungmin knows he does; after this, he knows that Changbin owns him—chasing his own release with feral determination.

“Just a little more, Seungmin-ah.” Changbin grits his teeth. “I’m close.”

Seungmin’s body is still overheating, the relentless waves of overstimulation leaving him babbling incoherent pleas. He’s begging for mercy, begging for more, begging for Changbin to keep him right where he is now, pliant and broken under him.

Then, Changbin finally comes. His thrusts grow erratic, losing rhythm, breath harsh in Seungmin’s ear before he digs his teeth on Seungmin’s shoulder and buries himself to the hilt.

The flood of warmth makes Seungmin cry out, instinctively clenching around the hot release spilling inside of him, milking every drop. Changbin’s hands move to wrap his hands around Seungmin’s hips, keeping them locked together as grinds into him through his orgasm, panting and groaning into Seungmin’s ear.

Seungmin trembles uncontrollably, overstimulated to the point of delirium, his face lifted off the dirt but his back stays pressed to Changbin’s chest. He can feel Changbin twitching inside of him as he empties himself, filling Seungmin up until it leaks down his thighs and mixes in with the blood dripping down his hole.

“That’s it, puppy.” Changbin mouths against his ear. “Just take everything I give you, yeah? Gonna keep you full and dumb just like this.”

And Seungmin, lost in the haze of blood and dirt and cum, can only nod. His head lolls backward, falling to Changbin’s shoulder, and all he can manage are short puffs of air.

“You’d like that, yeah?” Changbin presses a kiss to Seungmin’s cheek. It would have been unbearably sweet if it wasn’t another brand on Seungmin's skin.

Seungmin whimpers when Changbin pulls out of him and tucks himself back in his pants. He lays Seungmin on his back and teasingly flicks his flaccid cock before he pulls up Seungmin’s pants and underwear for him.

Through bleary eyes and a buzzing head, Seungmin watches as Changbin retrieves his knife and mask. He looks down at Seungmin, tilting and smirking his head, as he puts the mask back on.

“Let’s take you home, puppy.” Changbin says, almost muffled through the mask.

Seungmin’s voice is too shattered to speak, but his body breathes with trembling, yielding acceptance. As Changbin heaves him up in his arms to carry him out of the forest, Seungmin’s eyes fall shut, submitting himself to his fate as whatever Changbin wants him to be.