Chapter Text
Seoul underworld is quiet on the surface, entirely hidden behind the legal facades of the country's largest mega-conglomerates.
At the top of that hidden system sits the Taewon Group, led by Lee Sanghyeok, the youngest chairman in the organization’s history.
He inherited control over the company at the age of 20–right after an airplane crash claimed the lives of both his parents. At the time, everyone questioned whether someone so young could keep the company afloat, while many within the internal board quietly expected his leadership to collapse within a year.
But defying every prediction, the company flourishes.
Despite his young age, Sanghyeok is a genius at managing both the legal corporate operations and the illegal syndicates beneath them. In criminal circles, he is known as the Unkillable Demon King because every rival family that has ever attempted to assassinate him or dismantle his power was systematically destroyed within days.
Yet, as legendary as Sanghyeok is, the whispers about his shadow are no less unsettling.
Word on the street said the Demon King’s right-hand man was someone with a small figure of a woman. Most would question why. A man in such a position is usually someone whose strength is capable of crushing another man barehanded—which makes complete sense. It’s a skill mostly required to establish fear and control within the organization.
They expected a hulking monster as their prime enforcer, but instead, they got sweet Ryu Minseok.
With his rather cute facial features, petite frame, and soft, airy voice that sounded like it could easily soothe a room, he looked entirely out of place in the underworld. Yet beneath that exterior sat the most ruthless, calculated executioner the organization had ever produced.
Because of his status, it was an incredibly rare sight to see him personally stepping foot into a dirty abandoned warehouse just to handle a "clean-up." This was normally work for the lower ranks. But it seemed like tonight was a special occasion.
(⚠️ this scene contains graphic depictions of violence and death)
“Minseok-ah, I’ve told you everything. Now please tell the Chairman,” a 45 year old man with tied hands desperately entreated. “You know better than anyone how many years I’ve worked with Sanghyeok! It’s been 10 years since he took over the business. There’s no way I would have done such a thing just for money. Someone in the middle must be stirring up trouble!”
His voice echoed throughout the warehouse—the only sound despite the dozen armed men surrounding him in the shadows.
Face ashen, he looked up at the smallest silhouette of them all—the 22 year old Minseok. The young man merely dug a pinky into his ear, twisting it idly as if the man's pleas were nothing more than a localized nuisance.
“Ah, seriously. You old people gotta be more creative with the excuses.”
The face looking down was entirely expressionless. It was a gaze devoid of a single drop of empathy—yet to the desperate man, who was bound tightly and stripped of every shred of his dignity, that cold facade was his last remaining lifeline.
“S-Section Chief Ryu! Please, just save me this once. I will go straight to the Chairman and explain everything,” the man begged again. “I told you already! It must have been the kids underneath me. They made a mistake while moving the shipment. I really didn’t know—”
Ah. Inconsistencies, inconsistencies. All these dumb excuses. Did he really think Minseok was that dumb?
“Shh.” Minseok placed a finger against his own lips, stopping the man altogether. He then turns at his side, opening his mouth at a taller man in black jacket. “Hey, Donggyu-ya. Is this area clear?”
The man—Donggyu nods. “Yes, hyungnim.”
Minseok didn't say another word to that. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and struck a light. The flame flickered to life, casting brief shadows across his sweet face. He took a slow drag of his cigarette.
The old man quickly realized exactly what that implied, and his panic quickly surged.
“S-Section Chief… no, Minseok-gun!” He started sobbing. “I am someone who has watched you since you first entered the family! I watched you grow up right by the chairman’s side!”
At that moment, the ridiculous title and the pathetic sentimentality actually managed to catch Minseok’s interest. He rolled his stiff neck before tilting his head down, meeting the man’s upward-straining eyes once more.
“…Can’t you at least help me this time?” The man fumbled blindly with his hands against the dusty ground, until his trembling fingers locked around Minseok’s ankle. “I swear I’m being wronged. Please.”
Tsk.
Raising a single eyebrow, Minseok kicked his leg out of the man's desperate grasp without much effort. He then shoved the heavy sole of his shoe against the man’s shoulder, ruthlessly pushing him down onto the floor.
The man’s eyes, heavy with absolute despair, were now aimed at the empty air. It seemed like he had only just realized that begging for mercy in front of this stone-cold Minseok was a futile attempt.
Minseok let out a small grunt as he crouched down on his haunches in front of the ruined man.
“Mr. Kwon. If you're so innocent, then why did you go around doing things that would get you misunderstood in the first place?”
“Min- Minseok…” His tears flowing down, now wetting the floor with dark stains. “It was so dumb of m-me… I didn’t know that the woman was from the White Tigers. If only I’d known…” Trembling with terror, the man failed to notice the subtle yet vital shift in Minseok’s expression.
Liar.
Minseok clicked his tongue dismissively, casually flicked his cigarette ash right in front of the man’s face. Beyond the grey, scattering embers, the terrified pupils trembled, locking onto Minseok’s face. To Minseok, however, the sight was closer to a mere piece of meat to butcher than a functioning human being.
“I don’t want to do this either, you know,” he murmured, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. “Sanghyeok-hyung rarely hands me these kinds of messy jobs these days. But here we are.”
He leaned in closer, the glowing cherry of his cigarette illuminating the fear crossing the old man's face. “You know why that is, right? Since you watched us grow up together, you should know exactly why he did that.”
The man’s eyes got even wider, then he let out a gasp.
“Please, please…”
Ah. It seemed like fear was completely eating away at the man’s thinking ability. Seeing him stuck in despair, stammering out the same broken sounds, Minseok felt there would be nothing more to gain from further questioning.
And so, he braced his hands on his knees and stood up to his full height.
“I thought 10 years of working alongside Sanghyeok-hyung would somehow help boost your intelligence,” he added, voice cold and empty. “But here you are, making the dumbest mistake.”
With a quiet sigh, Minseok threw his cigarette onto the floor and crushed the glowing ember beneath his foot. He took a few steps behind the man, then shoved his boot forcefully between the man's shoulder blades, once more forcing him face-down against the ground.
“You should’ve known. No one messes with him and stays alive.”
“Please…please…I beg you,” the broken noise kept filling the room. Not enough to change a fate.
With his left hand, Minseok grabbed a handful of the man's graying hair, yanking it backward with enough force to pull the expanse of his throat completely taut.
“Your hard work for the family is appreciated,” he whispered. “Now, rest well, Mr. Kwon,”
Finally, at the realization of his imminent end, the broken voice other than pleading came out as the man’s last words:
“You ungrateful bastard! You would’ve done the same thing if you were me. You’re just a—”
But the sudden venomous spite was cut short as Minseok drove the tip of his knife inward with a single thrust, cutting the carotid artery on one side.
“Kkhh—!”
Minseok immediately stepped back a pace, clearing himself completely from the trajectory. He watched as the man’s arterial pressure took over. A stream of blood pulsed from his throat, spraying onto the ground and rapidly expanding into a wide pool of crimson.
“Kugh, hugh…”
The man couldn't even scream. The sudden loss of pressure paralyzed his vocal cords, forcing him to watch the remaining of his own life rush across the floor toward Minseok's boots. Minseok just stood there, tilting his head, watching the red pool reflect the dim overhead light until the pulsing finally slowed to a stop.
A flicker of nostalgic flashbacks finally played in Minseok’s head, slowly surging out after the task was finally done.
“Welcome, little boy. In this family, we protect each other.”
Minseok cleared his throat. He stared down at the now motionless face—eyes wide in what remained of an agony, yet entirely hollow. The face of death was never pretty to look at, but it always served well to ground him to reality.
“The difference between you and me,” Minseok murmured to the lifeless eyes, “is that you followed him to stay alive. While I... I’m following him to my death.”
He shifted his gaze, his lips turning down in annoyance as he spotted a couple of tiny red droplets marring the polished leather of his boots.
“Tsk. I’m getting rusty,” Minseok muttered to himself. Then, licking the inside of his cheek, he looked around and clicked his tongue at the man beside him—Donggyu who was now visibly trembling.
“See? I told you. I hate it when someone acts like an idiot right in front of me,” he pointed the tip of his knife toward the oldman’s corpse. “Even until the very last second of his life, he was still spouting stupid lies.”
“You’re just a—“
So it is true what they say. It is only in the face of death a man will truly reveal his true colors.
Kwon Daegil was nothing but a cunning snake who thought his decades-long record of loyalty would be enough to shield him from his own treachery. To think the old man actually believed he could buy his way out with a bit of pathetic sentimentality and a nostalgic story. It made Minseok’s skin crawl in disgust—especially when he reminded himself of the irreversible disaster the man’s greed had caused the family.
Minseok looked up from the expanding pool of crimson. The rest of his men stood in paralyzed silence, watching as he calmly drew a pack of tissues and a tube of lip balm from his pocket. With a heavy sigh, he plucked a tissue out and began to wipe the dark stains from his knife.
“Now you know better than to play around behind the chairman’s back. Next time, just make sure to follow every single word he says.”
“Yes, sir!”
Then, looking around at the bloodstains scattered here and there, the unidentifiable brownish liquid, and the floor dirtied by the mud and blood stuck to his shoe soles, he opened his mouth to Donggyu.
“Take care of the rest.”
Minseok didn’t need to explain a single detail more. Donggyu knew exactly what that meant. He wanted it clean. Minseok always wanted everything handled meticulously, leaving behind absolutely no trace for the authorities to find.
"Understood, Hyungnim.”
With that, Minseok turned and walked away. He smoothly uncapped his lip balm and swiped it over his lips, leaving the filth of the abandoned warehouse behind without a single backward glance.
This is the path Minseok had chosen, the reality that will define the rest of his life. He would follow Lee Sanghyeok to his death, no matter how bleak, cold, or suffocating his surroundings became.
Because without him, Minseok wouldn’t have a life at all.
“I know that you are now old enough to understand we are on the wrong path, Minseok-ah. But it’s a path I have to take to keep my home intact. There will be enemies everywhere once we start walking this path. If you want to quit, you can do that now….”
”….But if you don’t, will you still follow me and stand by my side?”
Sanghyeok had asked him that years ago, right before Minseok was deployed to his very first cleanup job.
Minseok hadn’t needed even a second to think about it.
“Yes, hyung. I will.”
He hadn’t hesitated the first time he drew blood from a living being, either. His knife had sliced through skin and flesh without a tremor when he cemented his place in the dark.
Because Minseok is a man of his word, that was exactly what he would do. He would bind himself as Sanghyeok's shadow, surround himself with the red and black of the ugly side of the underworld.
Because deep down, Minseok understood the truth.
He was born this way—never meant to keep the pretty things he always admired.
“Want me to prove exactly how far I’d go for you?”
Suhwan’s question left the narrow space of Minseok’s car without an echo, giving out silence.
Minseok blinks several times. His entire head stalls, trying to process how the hell such a boy can possess this insanity. How often is it to run into someone so willing to dive headfirst into deep water without testing its depth first?
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Minseok can only say that—he’s still struggling to process the absurdity of it all.
He looks down at Suhwan’s right hand, which is now covering his own knife-gripping hand, feeling the distinct heat and dampness of the boy's palm. Suhwan's gaze, which had been locked straight onto Minseok’s eyes, falters down for a split second before pulling itself right back to him.
“Maybe not,” Suhwan admits. “But I’d take the risk. Better than losing my chance at you.”
Oh, Minseok thinks to himself, dropping his vision to the clean silver edge of the knife still pressing against the side of the boy’s neck. If only he knew. If this kid could see the trace of blood permanently etched into his hands, he wouldn't even dream of starting these dangerous games.
Minseok takes a heavy breath of the stagnant car air. “I am quite literally threatening your life right here, and you’re using it to flirt with me?”
The younger stays silent. Minseok pulls back slightly, dragging his left hand away from the boy’s chin, though the knife remains exactly where it is. He runs his free hand through his hair and exhales heavily. Without the support beneath his jaw, Suhwan’s head dips a little.
“Hey. What do you want from me?”
The sudden question catches the boy entirely by surprise. He looks up and blinks rapidly, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “Well, you saved my life. And, ah… I thought you’re—”
“No,” Minseok cuts him off, slicing through the hesitation.
“What exactly do you want us to be?”
Suhwan freezes, simply keeping his gaze still—which only makes the whole situation even more frustrating. Bet he’s going to say that again. Savior this, savior that. Is this kid really going to use that same template every single time?
“Me saving you was just a small act of kindness on my part,” Minseok presses, leaning in slightly. “Like choosing not to step on an ant you see on the sidewalk.”
Suhwan’s dark eyes don't even waver. He just keeps staring, looking as if he is just processing the structure of Minseok's sentences without registering a single thorn implied in his words.
Minseok groans inwardly.“If you’re going to follow just anyone around for something that trivial, kid, you better—”
“I like you,” Suhwan says suddenly, freezing the rest of Minseok’s words right in his throat.
Huh?
“I.. I know you don’t feel the same way about me. But I want to be closer to you.”
What the heck is running through this kid's head?
The younger is already parting his lips, clearly ready to continue spouting whatever romantic nonsense he’d conjured up. “You’re my—”
But before his words can fully form, Minseok cuts him off by sealing the younger’s mouth firmly with his palm.
“Suhwan-ssi. Let me get it straight, since you’re clearly not taking the hint,” Minseok says, drawing in a sharp breath.
“I’m definitely not into someone younger than me.”
With his mouth covered, Suhwan's dark eyes become completely unignorable, boring into his face, filling up Minseok's entire field of vision. Minseok clicks his tongue, shifting his gaze toward the dashboard to break the suffocating hold of those eyes.
“I don’t have time and mental space for whatever romance a kid like you has dreamed up,” he says, keeping his voice cool. “Cute dates, texting all day—I don't do any of that shit. It's strictly physical for me.”
There is another silence for a moment, as the boy tries to process every single word. Then, his hand creeps up and pulls Minseok’s hand slightly to the side of his face. Minseok allows him that, just so the boy can finally speak.
“So that’s it? Because you think I’m still a kid?”
“Huh?”
“The reason why you’re drawing a line between us.”
“I don’t—” Minseok cuts himself off. It’s true that he has been trying to tell himself that Suhwan is still a kid, hence it’s better for them to just continue living their separate lives. They’re strangers to begin with; there’s no use adding this mess to Minseok’s already messy life.
With another sigh, Minseok softens his voice just slightly. “Listen, kiddo. I was just trying to do you a favor here. Involving yourself with someone like me will only do you harm.”
Suhwan looks up at him, then down at the knife at his throat. “I’m not scared.” Unexpectedly, he leans forward, closing the distance until their faces are only a few centimeters apart.
“Hyung,” he murmurs. “At least give me a trial run.”
A trial run, he said. Despite his unexpected bravado, his choices of words have been so childish, but at the same time it proves exactly how clueless he is about Minseok’s world.
“You could’ve had a perfectly good life if you weren’t messing around with me.”
“Or I could not have a life at all.”
Minseok scoffs at that. “Those kidnappers were obviously just going to use you to scrape some ransom money out of your dad,” shifting away and is about to pull his hand back entirely. “They needed you alive. You would've walked away from that in one piece.”
But before he can actually retreat, Suhwan’s hand shoots forward, locking around Minseok’s forearm.
“Hyung. You can’t just back off after shoving this knife onto my throat,” he says, stopping Minseok altogether with the words. “If you’re going to threaten me, at least show me that you can do it properly.”
…huh?
“Show me how you’d do it. How you’d use your knife. And I can prove to you that I’m not scared.”
Shit. This kid is just—
“You’re fucking insane.” Minseok stares at him in disbelief. “Do you think this is some kind of joke?”
But as Minseok searched the younger boy's face, there wasn’t a single flicker of hesitation or humor. The intensity in his dark eyes proved he meant every single syllable.
Minseok could have just ignored this whole absurdity and shoved the boy out of his car—drive away, leave him behind for good. It would be easy. It should be easy.
Or, he could’ve just drawn the knife across a non-vital point just to prove he means his threats. It would’ve been easier; it would’ve been so fucking easy if this Kim Suhwan guy weren't stuck halfway between everything. He’s too stubborn to leave. Too sincere to dismiss.
Minseok could’ve shoved him away if Suhwan had been a shy, scaredy boy. He could’ve just slit his throat if Suhwan had been a cocky, pushy brat. But Suhwan is none of those things, and yet, he is all of them at once.
His resolve is entirely clear through his eyes, but Minseok can still catch every small bit of hesitation from the way his gaze flickers at times. His grip is steady, yet the coldness and dampness of his palm suggest exactly how much effort he’s expending just to hold on.
Curiosity starts to fill Minseok's head—an emotion that, by his own self-understanding, is always his strongest. His curiosity always gets the better of him. And right now, it is pulling him straight in.
Ah. Fine, then.
Finally, Minseok lets out a soft laugh, conceding to the sheer absurdity of it all. The younger boy only stares back at him, unaware of what Minseok is about to bring him.
“You see, Suhwan-ssi,” Minseok starts, leaning in closer. He purposely loosens the blade on Suhwan’s throat, offering a fleeting deceptive moment of security before he strikes.
“I hate doing things messy, so I often prefer things to be done quickly and meticulously,” he says, keeping his tone light. “But in some cases, I want it slow and painful enough so that the one I kill will remember the pain until the very end.” Minseok smiles, watching as Suhwan’s throat bobs once more with a heavy gulp.
“Say, do you know what happens right before you die from intense pain?”
And when the expected silence comes, Minseok goes on.
“The human mind tries to protect itself. It quickly shifts from agony to a natural state of dissociation. In those final seconds, the brain goes numb, forces an artificial peace, or plays a little movie of your memories before the lights go out. It’s like your body’s last mercy clause.”
Slowly, with a quiet hum, Minseok shifts the knife, tracing the tip down the side of Suhwan's neck.
“I like to cheat people out of that mercy…”
There’s no other sound inside the car except for the subtle rustle of fabric as their clothes rub against each other with the movement of his hand.
“…So I don’t go for this spot.” He stops the point exactly at the vulnerable dip of the jugular notch, right above the collarbone. “And this,” before sliding the steel back up to press lightly over the carotid triangle—the exact sweet spot where the primary blood supply to the brain sits exposed.
“I like to drag it out slowly…” Minseok whispers, leaning in so close that his jacket buttons press against Suhwan’s chest, his hot breath pooling in the collar of the boy's shirt. “Very, very slowly.”
He pushes the knife, ensuring the sharp edge presses with enough pressure to leave a fine scratch. By now, a tiny bead of blood has probably welled against the metal. But instead of making a sound, the only thing the boy gives away is a slight, involuntary flinch the moment it happens.
Minseok keeps his eyes piercing onto the younger’s as he says,
“I'm going to let you breathe. Keep your eyes wide open. Your body is going to run out of adrenaline long before I'm done, and your mind won't have a single second of peace to look away. You are going to feel every millimeter of this."
“And when your mind finally breaks into a scream for it to end….” he smiles. “…I drink it in.”
Only after the last word left his lips does Minseok realize just how far he’s invaded Suhwan’s territory. He’s angled his body a bit too deep across the console, crowding the passenger seat much more than he had intended.
When he finally pulls himself away, the full aftermath of his performance is right on display.
On the side of the boy's throat, a thin red line marks the path of his knife.
Then he looks up to his face—that catches him off-guard.
Suhwan’s face is the deepest shade of red Minseok has ever seen. Tiny beads of sweat are forming along his hairline, and his eyes look heavily dazed and unfocused—as if his brain is still desperately trying to process the entire sequence. Well, it wasn't exactly a surprise. For an ordinary college kid, such graphic monologue is bound to scare him.
Minseok smirks at the boy, thoroughly satisfied with the wreck he has made of him.
“You can’t handle me.”
With a sigh, he finally retreats and leans all the way back into his driver's seat, finally hitting the central lock. The simultaneous click of the doors is subtle, but sharp enough to instantly shatter the suffocating haze of tension inside the car.
“Now, this is your last chance, kiddo,” Minseok says, not even bothering to glance to his side. “Get the fuck out of my car and pray you never see me again.
Time seems to freeze inside the car. The boy doesn’t move a single millimeter, nor does he say a word. Minseok wonders if he is just completely paralyzed by the shock. He has to be.
Minseok truly thinks this will be the end of it—that Suhwan will finally scramble out, scared for his life. He waits for the reaction, waiting to hear the door handle pull and click open. But there, the boy is still sitting stubbornly in the passenger seat.
“Wow. That was hot.”
Huh?
Did Minseok just hear that right?
He quickly turns his head around to find the boy is now staring intently down at his own palm, a small smudge of red apparent on the tip of his finger where he had touched his neck.
“…And then, what else would you do?” the boy suddenly asks, the question bringing the hard realization that those words had indeed come from Suhwan.
“Huh?” Minseok is utterly lost for words.
“Hyung. What would you do if the person didn't scream?”
“I—”
“Minseok-hyung,” Suhwan says, turning his dazed but unblinking gaze over to Minseok’s side. “Tell me.”
Minseok stares back at him, but as he does, Suhwan’s gaze falls away after exactly 3 seconds of eye contact. It is amusing how hard he tries to hide the effect Minseok has on him, completely unaware of how brightly red his ears have turned.
“You’re awfully bold for a kid who can’t even maintain eye contact for more than 3 seconds.”
Interestingly enough, the moment Minseok points it out, the boy looks right back up. This time, his gaze doesn’t waver. Only the slight, tight purse of his lips gives away how much effort he’s exerting to look entirely unaffected. Everything he does, everything he says, everything his body betrays—it’s completely all over the place. It makes Kim Suhwan feel like an unsolved puzzle with its pieces scattered everywhere.
God. Why is this suddenly becoming so intriguing?
Minseok clears his throat, breaking the momentary silence as well as their impromptu staring contest.
“Hey. Have you ever even done it with a man before?”
The surprise on Suhwan’s face is unmistakable. “What?”
“Sex, of course.”
As expected, he can’t answer rightaway. But of course he’ll try to. Suhwan’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard before answering:
“No.”
Figures.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Minseok says with a grim smile. “That’s the only thing I seek from a partner.”
When another stretch of silence piles between them, Minseok prepares to finally close the subject. “Now, kiddo, you better—”
“Fine then, sex it is,” Suhwan cuts him off.
“Teach me your way, hyung. I can be your sex… uh… sex-partner. Ah, wait, what do you call it? Sex-friend?”
What the heck?
Staring back into Suhwan’s eyes, Minseok can’t believe someone as innocent-looking as him can actually say something like that with a straight face.
Those eyes. The way Suhwan stares at him.
Minseok is used to many kinds of stares. He's stared down the sharpest glares, eyes filled with indifference, disgust, hatred, fear, terror. He's seen eyes filled with lust—countless times. But the way Suhwan is looking at him right now completely defies his knowledge.
Minseok can’t read a single trace of what lies behind those eyes.
“Y-you’re—” Minseok's voice wavers when he tries to speak. He shoves his palm up, flattening it right over Suhwan’s face in panic because he suddenly can’t handle the weight of that stare.
“…”
There is silence following the action. Suhwan doesn’t say a word, nor does he try to pull away. From beneath the sensory landscape of Minseok’s palm, he can feel the sharp prickle of the boy’s eyelashes brushing against his skin, the steady puff of his breath. Suhwan is entirely pliant behind his palm, and the complete lack of resistance sends a strange pressure straight into Minseok’s chest.
Slowly, Minseok shifts his fingers, opening a small gap between them. Through the narrow space, he finds Suhwan’s eyes still tracking him—sharp as a knife, entirely unbothered by the restriction.
“Tell me, how do I do this, hyung?” the younger asks, his breath ghosting hot against Minseok’s palm.
When Minseok reluctantly slides his hand down to the side of Suhwan’s face, the younger boy immediately tilts his head, leaning his weight into Minseok’s palm. The subtle movement causes his dark bangs to shift across his forehead, revealing a small yet distinct mole resting just at the inner corner of his eyebrow.
Minseok's heartbeat skyrockets at the reaction. His gaze involuntarily drifts, scanning the view up close. He tracks the thick fan of the boy's eyelashes, the sharp slope of his nose. The pale skin of his forehead and temple catching the muted glow from the dashboard. Color gathers naturally across his face, faint at the cheekbones and deeper along his cheeks, before Minseok’s eyes inevitably land on the soft pink sheen of his lips.
Minseok has been around plenty of aesthetically pleasing men and women in his life, but the sight in front of him is a totally different thing.
“Shit. You’re pretty,” he mutters. He doesn’t even realize the words have crossed his lips until he catches the way Suhwan’s eyes widen, followed closely by the way they curve into a crescent-shaped smile.
Minseok wants to curse this specific flaw in his head. His weakness for pretty things. It's a liability he can't afford, yet here it is, tripping him up in his own car.
“I assume that’s an advantage,” Suhwan murmurs, looking up through his lashes. “Or is it not?”
“It’s a double edged sword.” Minseok replies, steadying his voice. “Only if you are smart enough to make use of it, and strong enough to keep it from becoming a vulnerability.”
“Of course you’d understand it well.” The younger smiles.
Oh, I’ll make sure you understand it just as well.
Wait. Did Minseok say that out loud? Well, maybe he did. At this point, he isn't entirely sure. Not like he cares anymore.
“Good,” Suhwan breathes. “Now, hyung. Test me.”
The voice only comes as background noise—because Minseok’s entire mind is completely blurred, because his body is already pulled like a magnet, leaning even closer, and closer.
He cups the boy’s face, and Suhwan closes his eyes, his perfect features turning still like a statue. Just like those pretty things Minseok has always quietly admired from afar.
Ah. He knows he should stop.
He knows every rational thought in his head is screaming at him to stop. Yet he can do nothing but succumb to the beauty, even as his own logic sneers at him for it. Consequences be damned.
And suddenly, their lips meet.
One second passes. Then two. Then three. Minseok tilts his head slightly to deepen the angle, but Suhwan remains completely rigid, failing to give even the slightest opening. Minseok cracks his eyes open and finds the boy still squeezing his eyes tightly shut, completely frozen in place.
Oh? He doesn’t even know how to respond to a kiss? Does he even know how kissing works to begin with?
He’s 20, right? Where the hell has this boy been living for the last two decades? Did he grow up in some secluded princess tower, or a cave?
Minseok scrunches his brows, pulling back just slightly. “Hey. Open your mouth.”
But instead of his lips, it’s Suhwan’s eyes that’s parting wide open in shock.
Shit. What are they even doing? It feels like he’s actually molesting an innocent kid at this point. This boy is clearly biting off way more than he can chew.
Frustrated, Minseok pulls away abruptly, clicking his tongue. “Forget it—”
But then the boy does something unexpected once more.
Before Minseok can even catch his breath and fully retreat, Suhwan lunges forward, his hands reaches forward at the back of Minseok’s head, dragging him back into another—this time, a real—kiss.
“Mmh—“
Unlike before, his mouth parts without instruction. It’s clumsy, slightly awkward, but the sudden burst of heat is undeniable as they melt into a breathless mess of a kiss.
Minseok slides his hands to the back of Suhwan’s head, and erratically, to his nape. His knife has fallen somewhere. He doesn’t even know when that happened.
Drowned in the sudden heat, Suhwan’s hand creeps up toward Minseok’s face, seeking to cup his cheek—but Minseok’s left hand flies up, stopping the movement altogether with a firm grip on Suhwan’s wrist.
“!” The younger flinches at the sudden restriction.
Minseok ignores the reaction completely. He uses his grip to pull the boy's wrist and pin it firmly against the seat upholstery, while simultaneously leaning his entire weight forward to force his way deeper into Suhwan's mouth.
“Hnghh—”
He needs the kid to understand the hierarchy here, immediately and without question. Minseok absolutely hates the feeling of control slipping from his grasp, and he has zero intention of letting a kid dictate their pace.
The kiss brings Minseok to a new discovery.
To him, kisses had always tasted like a blend of smokes and top-shelf liquor—the distinct bite of alcohol swallowed down in dim backrooms, or the bitter, chemically sharp trace of prescription numbing agents passed casually between lips in the VIP lounges.
But this…tastes like…cola?
The artificial syrup and bubbly carbonation hits his tongue and forces him to a grounding realization—cutting straight through the heat of the moment.
It’s different.
This is different. Nothing like the flings he’s collected over the years.
Because Suhwan is nothing like them.
Minseok is kissing a boy who still belongs to the sun, whose worst vice is probably a mere convenience store beer—someone who has absolutely no business being anywhere near a monster like him.
One of them still has a future, the other has spent years burying people in theirs.
The realization seeps further into Minseok’s mind until he’s unable to feel the kiss anymore, and the taste of cola dissipates into sudden tang of guilt. Or fear. Or whatever the fuck it is that’s currently choking him—and with that, Minseok abruptly pulls away.
“…”
The narrow space is momentarily filled with nothing except their catching breaths, neither of them says a word.
Suhwan’s face is boiling red, the flush creeping up to his ears, down to his neck. His lips are a bruised cherry color, the pale palette of his skin has completely transformed into the color of a ripe apple.
God. Look at the mess Minseok has made of him.
“…Get out,” Minseok finally manages to rasp.
“Hyung?” Suhwan stares at him, thoroughly confused. “What… why?”
“We shouldn’t be doing this.”
And of course, true to form, the boy stubbornly stays in his silence, still with his ragged breath and unfocused eyes.
Minseok forces his mouth open, making sure his voice is firmer this time. “I said, get out.”
This time, Minseok refuses to look at him. Clicking his tongue, he leans all the way back into the driver’s seat, fixing his eyes on his side window—which, unfortunately, still grants him a dark reflection of the passenger seat.
“It was my bad. Just an impulsive act. We should never do this again,” Minseok says, letting the cold words cut the final thread.
“Suhwan-ssi. Get out of my car. Now.”
He ensures this third command acts as the final nail.
There is another silence for a moment, until the quiet is broken by a sudden rustling—Suhwan is fumbling at something in his pocket. A second later, the sharp click of the passenger door latch echoes through the cramped space. Minseok strictly forces himself not to look, gluing his eyes straight to the glowing gauges of the dashboard.
“Minseok-hyung. I hope we get to meet again,” Suhwan says quietly.
Minseok turns away completely.
“I hope not.”
And with that, the door slams close, cutting the boy out of his world.
For a long time, Minseok just sits there in contemplation, letting his car idle on a street just a short walk from his apartment complex. Then, with a heavy sigh, he pulls a cigarette from its pack—one he’d been itching to light ever since the moment he dropped Suhwan off.
He pops it between his lips and digs into his pockets. Nothing. Shit. He forgot his lighter.
Annoyed, he leans across the center console, stretching his arm out toward the glove compartment to rummage for a spare. But the moment his hand hovers over the latch, a pop of color catches his eye.
A bright neon-yellow square was stuck right to the dashboard. A sticky note.
Did that brat seriously leave this here?
Minseok snatches it off, bringing it close to the faint glow of the dashboard lights, revealing a messy handwriting:
You already blocked me on kakao, but here’s my number anyway, in case you change your mind :)
010-XXXX-XXXX
“Crazy kid,” Minseok mutters under his breath. Amusement twists his lips for a brief second before reality reasserts itself. He crumples the paper into a tight ball, shoving it deep into his jacket pocket with the mental note to throw it away later.
He leans down again to finish his search for the lighter, but his eyes catch another pop of different color resting on the passenger floor mat.
Minseok reaches into the footwell, fumbling around until his fingers brush against a piece of plastic-made card. When he brings it up into the dim light, a cobalt-blue branding and a prestigious university crest appear in his vision—confronting him with a fact that brings an entirely new realization.
He flips the card over, scanning its printed text:
KIM SUHWAN
Department of Computer Science and Engineering
Issued: 2024.11.24
Oh. So he is actually a smartass.
What a surprise from a guy who looked like he needed 5 business days just to process a single conversational sentence, who was careless enough to drop his identity card in a stranger's car.
Minseok aggressively drags a hand through his hair, trying to process the sharp prickle of regret beginning to needle at his head. He questions every single choice, every second of hesitation that had led him to this point.
Desperate for a distraction, he reaches back into his pocket, and unexpectedly, his fingers brush against a metal.
Oh. His lighter was actually in the other side of his pocket the whole time.
Shit. He is completely losing his edge.
Minseok sparks the flame, letting the orange glow illuminate the heavy frown carved into his face.
Kim Suhwan is such a fool.
A boy born with every privilege imaginable who is willfully choosing to play with fire—completely blind to how easily it could consume everything his silver spoon had granted him.
But as the bitter smoke hits the back of his throat, Minseok faces his own reflection in the dark glass.
Suhwan really is a fool. But Minseok is even much of a bigger fool for letting a pretty face and a broken puzzle piece tempt him into breaking his own damn rules.
He stares out through the darkness of the car’s windshield, the empty street, the student ID in his hand.
What the fuck did he just get himself into?