Archive of Our Own

There is something in the woods with them. Someone. Jisung prays there is.

“You’re a fucking freak,” Felix spits and struggles against her restraints.

She hasn’t learned to be scared yet. Jisung shivers with fear.

The professor says nothing.

A twig snaps somewhere. Leaves rustle. It’s fall, gold and orange and brown and yellow everywhere. Jisung focuses on the colors. How the sun forces its way through the trees, how it hits a spot on Felix’s blonde head, making her hair shine. It’s dyed, Jisung knows. He’s seen her with roots in their sociology class.

The zip tie cuts into Jisung’s skin so much it hurts. He doesn’t dare to move. His heart rabbits in his chest, small and scared. He doesn’t dare to move anything but his eyes, glued on the professor.

He’s quiet. Cold. So fucking organized like he’s done this a million times.

Maybe he has.

The professor pulls out a Swiss army knife and Jisung whimpers. He squeezes his eyes shut and curls in on himself. His arms are bound behind his back and it hurts.

“Stay the fuck away from me,” Felix hisses and Jisung hears her legs kicking leaves.

He dares to open his eyes. She pushes herself away from the professor, the fabric of her jeans stained where her ass is planted on the ground. If Jisung weren’t so paralyzed with fear he’d laugh. The professor takes only three strides and stands over Felix, looking down at her with a blank face. Now she’s trembling. Her eyes are so big and her bangs stick to her sweaty face and her chest is heaving—

The professor smiles.

“Relax,” he says. His voice is soft. “I’m not going to hurt you if you don’t give me a reason to.”

Felix growls. Something wild in her throat and she bares her teeth. Jisung is so jealous of the fight she has left. He barely had any to begin with. She kicks the professor’s shin with her boots and it must hurt, but he just raises his brows.

“Yongbok-ah. Behave,” he says. “Jisung-ah is doing so well, hm?”

He’s doing well. He’s being good, so good, will it help him? Will it save him? He can be good.

Voices drift over in the light breeze and the professor’s head snaps around so fast he’s like a hunting dog. Jisung doesn’t want to see his teeth.

Felix backs away, driving her heels into the dirt so hard it pushes her backwards until she hits against the trunk of a tree. Jisung wants it, too. It’s a sense of safety, surely, that tree. She glares at the professor and pushes herself harder against the wood. Jisung sits on the ground with nothing to hold him up except the fear pulling his muscles taut. He’d give anything for a tree.

“Be quiet,” the professor says and makes for one of his bags.

Felix’s gaze snaps to Jisung. They’re a good three meters apart.

“Get up,” she whispers harshly. “Get the fuck up and let’s run.”

Jisung feels dread tug at his organs. It ties him to the ground like the roots of a tree. He shakes his head with wide eyes.

“There’s two of us,” she says. “He can’t catch us both.”

“He’s caught us both before,” Jisung whispers. His throat feels dry.

The professor returns. He stands between them and looks up into the branches. Felix stares, angry. Jisung stares, afraid.

Snap.

Jisung flinches. The professor turns and smiles. There’s someone in the woods with them.

Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—

Felix starts screaming and the professor kicks her in the face so hard she gets shoved to the ground. She groans and whimpers, cowering in the dirt and leaves and bugs. Jisung can see blood on her temple. He shivers so hard it’s exhausting. The rush in his ears is louder than the footsteps of the stranger approaching.

Jisung can only stare at Felix. He wants to help her, wants to make her shut the fuck up so the professor doesn’t hurt them—again.

The professor looks at Jisung for a moment. His face is blank. Jisung feels like prey. The professor moves with a twitch of his limbs and it makes Jisung flinch back. But he doesn’t come closer. He vanishes behind the tree Felix is lying in front of. She’s crying. The professor lifts a finger to his lips for only Jisung to see.

“What’s going on?”

The man is old. Maybe sixty. He looks like he’s on a hike. His beard is starting to gray. Jisung’s tongue is numb.

“Oh, God, are you hurt? What— Who tied you—”

“Help,” Felix rasps. She twists onto her side. “He’s here, he’s— help us.”

Jisung wants to scream. He wants to run. He wants to live. He watches the man haste over to Felix and try to help her up.

“Who did this? You’re bleeding,” the man gasps and pulls out a linen handkerchief. Jisung feels himself rise to his knees. “I’m calling the police.”

“He’s—” Jisung starts but then he sees him.

The professor is so fast. He grabs the man by his hair and yanks him back. He yells in pain. Jisung watches. His heart is beating so fast. Felix squeaks and tries to get away, but the tree at her back stops her. Jisung is glad there’s nothing to cage him in. He could run. The professor kicks the man into the jaw.

“Stop—” the man begs. Maybe he’s older. He looks fragile underneath the professor.

The Swiss army knife shimmers in the sun. The professor kneels over the man’s chest and slices the blade over his neck. Jisung’s legs tremble as he stumbles back. Felix is trapped.

Death is a gurgling sound, like something wrong going down the drain. The professor watches until the man stops spasming. Blood is everywhere. On the man, on the professor in Jisung’s head in his guts in his heart in his lungs. It’s quiet, until Felix screams again. It kickstarts Jisung’s reflexes and he runs.

Jisung never liked watching horror movies, but Seungmin forced him. He told Jisung he’d either be the first to die or make an excellent final girl. The first to die was the man. Jisung runs.

His arms are still bound behind his back and it’s fucking difficult, but he pumps his legs. His heart is going so fast he feels sick. He hears Felix scream again and it’s her fault. It’s her fault he stumbles and falls.

Jisung’s foot catches in a root and his knees scrape against rocks when he hits the ground. It forces all the air out of his lungs and he feels like his chest burst open. He can’t breathe. The aggressive beating of his heart becomes louder and it’s all he can hear and he whimpers when he realizes it isn’t his heart at all. It’s footsteps.

The professor clicks his tongue and turns Jisung onto his back with a nudge of his boot.

“You were being so good,” he sighs. The knife in his hand is rusty with blood.

Jisung whimpers. He’s gonna die.

“I— I’m sorry, sorry, I’ll be good, I promise, I’m gonna stay, please I—” Jisung stammers and feels tears prick behind his eyes. He thought he’d cried himself dry when he woke up tied up in the woods.

“Yeah?” The professor taunts and squats down to look at him. There’s amusement in his sharp eyes. “Will you behave?”

Jisung nods so quickly it hurts his neck. He’s so scared he’s gonna piss himself.

“There we go,” the professor says. He tilts his head. “I won’t hurt you if you’re good for me.”

He hauls Jisung to his feet and pushes him forward. A steady hand keeps him upright and the grip is so tight on his forearm it will bruise. Jisung bruises and bleeds so easily.

Felix’s legs are tied up lazily. Tight enough that she can’t get up and run, but it’s messy. A rope wound around her shins. The dead body— Jisung makes a pathetic noise and almost falls again, but the professor holds him steady.

Jisung falls to his knees the second the hand lets go. He shuffles closer to Felix, tries to see if she’s hurt, if she’s dead, but her gaze snaps up and she scoffs. It’s more a sob, really, but she’s clearly not happy to see him back here.

“Now, that was fun, wasn’t it?” The professor asks. His tone is entirely even.

Jisung swallows the bile in his throat. The man isn’t moving. Felix curls her small body against Jisung’s as much as she can. She’s shivering.

The professor pays them no mind for a while. He texts something on his phone, like he didn’t just kill someone and has two students tied up. Jisung’s eyes are fixed on his face so he doesn’t have to look at the corpse.

The sun sets.

Jisung has never been so cold in his life. There’s dread so icy in his veins he wants to die. He wants to live.

The professor makes Jisung get up again and Felix whines quietly. She’s scared. He’s so fucking scared. He squeezes his eyes shut as the professor moves behind him. All Jisung can think about is the knife on the man’s neck on his own neck in his skin his flesh his vocal cords his bones his

“Don’t get funny ideas,” the professor says and cuts through the zip tie.

It hurts. Jisung whimpers and brings his arms forward and the relief in his wrists and shoulders is momentarily bigger than the relief in his chest. Then he stops breathing. He’s free. He’s terrified now.

Casually, like they are friends on a hike, the professor picks up a backpack and hands it to Jisung. It’s heavy when he takes it. He takes it because there’s nothing else he can do. He could run he could hit him he could fight. He slowly puts the backpack on.

“Good,” the professor says and smiles.

Good. Just be good for him. There is nothing else he can do.

Jisung relaxes just a fraction when the professor ties his wrists together again, this time in the front. He wouldn’t tie someone up just to kill them right away. Jisung feels safe for a second.

“What the fuck are you doing,” Felix curses and kicks as her legs are being untied. “Is this your little family hike fantasy? Freak.”

If nothing else, Jisung knows that Felix has a pretty face and a foul tongue. They barely knew each other before.

“Be still, would you,” the professor sighs.

He watches Felix struggle and back away. He blinks and it scares Jisung. Felix’s chest is heaving as she stares back, defiant and difficult. Jisung wants to go home. The professor watches her for a long time. She eventually loses her fight and just looks small.

They woke up like this. Bound and in the dirt. There’s no last thing Jisung remembers. He was in the campus library and then not anymore. The professor just watched them realize.

“Are you done?” he asks.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Just grabs her by her shirt and pulls her up so quickly she makes a desperate sound. Jisung wishes— he genuinely wishes he wouldn’t be here.

Felix gets a backpack, too. The biggest one is on the professor’s back and he herds them away from the small clearing. From the fucking dead body.

“Someone’s gonna find the body,” Felix starts. She sounds like she’s freezing. “Or report him missing. Or us. People will notice that two students and a teacher are fucking missing. My friends—”

“Be quiet,” the professor says. He makes them walk in front of him. Jisung wants to see him. Wants to see him. Wants to see wants to see him so he can’t kill Jisung.

Felix laughs. Jisung glances to his side and sees her terrified face.

“Why?” she asks. It’s barely a whisper.

Jisung is a talker. His friends sometimes hit him for it. But his voice has left him now. He says the wrong thing so often and the right one sometimes, and he’s so fucking afraid of what either would mean right now.

The professor says nothing.

The sun is almost gone.

“Turn left,” the professor says after what feels like hours.

They’re not following a path. Jisung isn’t even sure they’re still in the city. He doesn’t know if there are forests this big anywhere near.

“I need to pee,” Felix says.

They keep going. Jisung doesn’t think he can will his legs to stop moving. They don’t shake so badly when he’s walking.

“I need to pee,” Felix repeats and stops.

She turns around with a glare and Jisung follows and his heart stumbles because the professor is so much closer than he thought.

“Hold it,” he says simply.

“Fuck you,” Felix spits.

“I need a break,” Jisung whispers. He can barely hear himself and yet the professor’s eyes snap to him.

“This isn’t a family hike,” he says slowly and drags his gaze back to Felix. “Keep walking.”

“Please,” Jisung pleads and his heart hammers so forcefully. It’s so scared of stopping.

It’s dark now. Jisung fears the professor can still see them clearly. Or doesn’t need to because he’s more dangerous anyway.

He sighs and drops his backpack.

“Two minutes,” the professor says and cuts their ties.

Felix jumps him the second she’s freed. Jisung stops. His blood freezes and he watches, helpless and paralyzed, as Felix tries to hit the professor. Tries to kick him in the groin, tries to hurt him.

Jisung hears the click of a gun safety and the backpack slides off his body. He feels numb all over. In the dusk, the barrel should fade into the shadows, but it’s all Jisung can see.

The professor aims it at Felix’s head and she stops. Her eyes are so wide. She backs away, shaking, until she’s up against a tree. Jisung doesn’t want a tree anymore.

“Do I have to make you behave?” the professor asks.

Felix sobs and Jisung legs it.

He’s never run so fast in his life.

Fasterfasterfasterfaster

Tree trunks and branches and leaves surge past him in the dark and Jisung’s heart races, faster than him.

The woods are too fucking quiet—

There’s a gunshot and Jisung doesn’t stumble.

He starts crying and he runs faster and he hears something—someone and he begs his legs to keep moving. He can’t see in the dark and the tears blur his vision and his blood is in his ears but he hears someone else and he runs so fucking fast and sobs and cries and runs and almost falls but his legs won’t stop now even if he would want them to. He never wants them to stop. He wants to live he wants to live he wants to live—

Something crashes into him so hard Jisung screams. He’s thrown to the ground and they’re rolling in the dirt and leaves and twigs and it hurts. The arms around him are so strong.

They hit a huge root and then everything stops.

Jisung sobs. He claws into the arms around his chest and cries and begs and shivers.

“Shhh,” the professor whispers.

He’s breathing heavily into Jisung’s hair and holds him so tightly and Jisung thinks he’s dead.

“I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry—” he whimpers and cries and he feels hot and cold all over and he realizes he’s pissing himself.

“Jisung-ah,” the professor says. “I’ll always catch you. I’ll always be there for you.”

Jisung is shaking and his throat hurts and he nods and nods and nods.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs. “I— I’ll be good now, please, I’m sorry, don’t kill me, don’t kill me.”

The professor says nothing. He holds Jisung down until the warmth in his jeans starts to become cold. His teeth are clattering. He wants to die.

“I’ve got you,” the professor whispers into his ear.

Jisung is pulled to his feet and the hand on his wrist stays iron. He stumbles after the professor with wet jeans and quiet sobs.

He didn’t come that far. Maybe he just ran in a circle like a fucking idiot. They reach the backpacks and a body on the ground after a few minutes.

Jisung crumbles and feels his guts twist at the sight.

Then Felix whimpers and wails and writhes on the floor and Jisung stops crying in shock. He crawls over to her and tries to touch her, tries to find the fucking wound. He heard a gunshot. She’s crying and moaning in pain and Jisung panics. His lips wobble and he cradles her head on his knees and makes her hair stickier with his piss wet jeans. He tries to calm her down, but she doesn’t seem to hear him.

“Breathe,” the professor says.

He kneels down by her feet and clicks a torch to life. Jisung whimpers when he sees the blood. It’s black on the ground. Her left sneaker isn’t white anymore, not even dirty with mud. Felix cries and shakes and claws into Jisung’s arm.

The professor shot her foot.

“I have to remove the bullet,” he says and drops a small bag off his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung whispers. He holds Felix close.

She screams when her shoelaces are being untied. The professor seems almost gentle as he removes the sneaker and sock. He shines the torch at the wound and Felix buries her head into Jisung’s knee. She doesn’t look at it, but Jisung does. Blood. Open flesh and grime and sweat and bone.

The professor says nothing, and pulls a pack of pills out of the bag. He gives it to Jisung.

“Make her take two,” he says.

“No, no, don’t fucking drug me,” Felix cries and kicks her good leg and curls into Jisung.

Jisung shields her head protectively. At least he tries. He looks at the professor and wills his pathetic face to look less that.

“It’s ibuprofen,” the professor sighs and shines the torch at the pills. “You don’t want to get an infection. You don’t want to feel this.”

Felix sobs and there’s snot all over Jisung’s pants. He wants to burn the jeans. He wants to go home and cut them up and throw matches at them and—

“Jisung-ah,” the professor says. “She needs you. You’ve only got each other against me. Don’t leave her again.”

Jisung sniffs and nods and takes the pills. He shoves one after the other into her mouth, even when she bites him. She coughs and sobs and swallows.

“Good girl,” the professor says.

He puts the torch between his teeth and starts unbuckling his belt.

Jisung flinches so hard he feels it in his bones. Felix whimpers and tries to curl in on herself, but a hand on her shin forces her to keep it still.

“Please,” she begs, “don’t, please, no, no—”

The professor comes closer and she cries into Jisung. He holds her head and grabs the professor’s forearm as it reaches out. He digs his nails into the jacket and his skin crawls.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” he hisses.

“Open your mouth,” the professor says. He means Felix, but looks at Jisung.

She shakes her head so violently it justles him.

“She has to have something between her teeth. Otherwise she’ll bite her tongue off,” the professor explains.

He grabs her hair and pulls her head up. She cries out and whimpers when she’s being forced to turn with a hand on her chin. It digs hard, prying her jaws apart and Jisung takes the leather belt to shove it between her teeth. Felix shakes. He feels sick.

He’s a professor of medicine, that much Jisung knows. If not his name.

Jisung can only hold Felix’s hand and try not to throw up as he watches the professor work.

Alcohol on the wound. Tweezers into skin. A metal clang when it finds the bullet. The sound of slick flesh being forced apart.

She screams around the leather until she goes limp and quiet.

Jisung chokes in shock and whispers her name over and over and shakes her shoulder and begs and only stops when there’s a hand on his arm.

“She passed out. She’s lucky,” the professor says.

“You’re insane,” Jisung says.

The professor smiles.

Jisung has to carry her. He’s tired and weak and everything hurts, but he has to carry her. Felix weighs almost nothing. Jisung is shaking all over.

The professor carries her backpack as well as his own and they walk beside each other in silence.

“What the fuck do you want from us?” Jisung asks.

He asked it over and over when he woke up and there was never a reply.

The professor says nothing.

There’s a cabin. In the middle of nowhere.

Jisung can barely stand.

He is told to put Felix on a bed in the corner and he does. He is told to drop the backpack. He is shoved against the wooden wall so hard he groans with the pain blooming on the back of his head.

The professor holds Jisung’s hands together and ties his wrists.

Jisung is pushed onto a chair and his pants are getting peeled off his skin. He whimpers quietly, at the feeling and the cold air on his damp legs. He struggles when the professor reaches for his underwear.

“You’re dirty,” he says. “But suit yourself.”

Jisung would rather lie in his own piss than have the professor get him naked. Sleep comes like a punch to his face.

-

He wakes to a quiet whimper by his head.

It all comes back to him when he sees blonde hair on the pillow, oily and dirty and dull. Felix’s forehead shines with pearls of sweat.

Jisung almost throws up, but she distracts him enough. He focuses on her. The bed is small, made for one person. He’s on his side, glued to Felix. His wrists hurt. He can’t feel his pinkies. Felix moans quietly. One of her arms is trapped between them and she’s clawing into Jisung’s shirt.

He can’t see much except her face. The wall at his back makes him feel safe and trapped.

“Felix,” he whispers. It’s so quiet.

She makes a small sound.

“Are you—” He doesn’t say it. She’s not.

Jisung hears movement and becomes stock still. His heartbeat picks up and he tries to breathe more shallowly.

Footsteps on the wooden floor. It creaks.

Jisung squeezes his eyes shut.

Then, nothing. He waits for his pulse to even out and opens his eyes.

The professor is squatting by the bed. He’s not looking at Jisung. His shoulders move and Felix whimpers. Jisung hears a noise like wallpaper peeling off a wall, slick with glue. His stomach turns and he curls into himself. Into Felix.

The professor says nothing and leaves.

Jisung can only stay like this for so long. He emptied his bladder all over himself last night and yet. He dares to lift his head to peek over Felix’s body. What he sees is a wooden table and some chairs.

He turns onto his back and sits up. His head almost explodes.

The professor looks at him. Calm. He’s standing by the table, various bandages and instruments spread before him. If Felix didn’t have a fucking hole in her foot Jisung would think the professor is about to torture them. He still can.

His little heart leaps out of his throat and Jisung has to swallow it down before it spills over the blanket.

“Is…” Jisung tries and it comes out wrong. Everything hurts. “Is she okay?”

The professor tilts his head to watch him. Jisung burns under his eyes.

“She will be,” he replies.

He finally looks at Felix. It makes him want to cry. She’s so pale, her freckles look like they don’t belong on her face. Her eyes are shut. She’s sweating and shivering and in pain. The hand by the edge of the bed is tied to the frame with an actual pair of handcuffs.

Her foot.

It’s resting on top of what looks like a bunch of towels. There’s a bandage around it that is stained a sickly pink.

Jisung reaches down and finds her hand to squeeze it between his. She gives a weak tug.

It comes to the point where he has to crawl over her to get out of the bed. It’s clumsy without arms and he tries really hard not to touch her as he stretches a leg over her stomach to reach the floor. Jisung loses balance and almost falls, but the professor catches him by the shoulders.

“Easy,” he says.

Jisung flinches back and away. He glares. His head hurts. His wrists and arms and legs and everything. He’s littered in bruises, he’s sure.

“Don’t touch me,” he hisses.

The professor says nothing and goes back to sorting through his equipment on the table. When he talks, he’s calm and focuses on cleaning a pair of medical scissors.

“To your left is a bathroom. The front door is locked and I have the only key. None of the windows here can be opened completely, don’t even try. The glass doesn’t shatter.”

He looks up. Jisung has moved back, slowly, and positioned himself behind a chair. Better than nothing.

“There’s no way out of here except with me. And if you try to run away again, you won’t know what I’ll do to Yongbok when you’re gone.”

Jisung recoils and frowns. The least thing he’s worried about is the professor calling Felix Yongbok.

“What are you gonna—”

“You won’t find out.”

Jisung grips the backrest of the chair so hard he starts feeling his fingers again. He glances around the cabin. Another bed, cabinets, small kitchen nook, a couch. A heater. The bathroom door. Jisung feels like he’s about to burst, but he doesn’t want to leave Felix alone.

“Go,” the professor says. “If you piss on my floor I’ll make you lick it clean.”

There’s a tilt to his voice and Jisung doesn’t want to know if he means it.

He stumbles more than he walks to the bathroom. It’s tiny. He cries quietly on the toilet.

There’s a mirror over the sink, but it’s plastic. The view is warped. Jisung looks like a ghost. He eyes the small shower in the corner and wonders if he’s allowed. If he should ask.

Felix cries when the professor lifts her shirt.

Jisung is cowering on the bed beside her and he can see the expanse of her flat stomach. He can see her pink bralette. He’s gonna throw up.

“What the fuck are you doing,” he croaks and grabs the professor’s wrist before he can touch her.

The professor looks at him. Blank, bored.

“She’s been sweating all night. She can’t very well go take a shower, now, can she?”

Jisung glares at him. The skin under his fingers feels warm and human. It shouldn’t be.

“I’ll do it,” he insists.

The professor sighs and hands him a wet washcloth.

Felix’s body is coated in sweat. It’s clammy and feels leathery. She makes small sounds as Jisung gently wipes her down. He doesn’t touch her chest, just her sternum and neck.

She blinks up at him. Her eyes are bleary and unfocused. Jisung dabs the washcloth on her forehead. He doesn’t know what else to do.

“Don’t…” she starts. It’s quiet and raw. “Don’t let him touch me.”

Jisung’s heart stops. He’s scared, but she’s scared. He nods. The professor is watching them and hears it, of course. Jisung pushes her hair out of her face.

The professor lets him shower. Gives him fresh clothes. Jisung examines the bruises on his body and the ones forming on his wrists underneath the tight zip tie. He wants to go home. The water is hot and it feels like punishment.

There’s a bowl and a glass on the table, and Jisung almost passes out when his body catches up on its hunger.

Jisung wolfs down the rice with sauce. Only when it’s nearly empty does he stop. His stomach twists and he stares at the food. His heart starts racing and his eyes snap to the professor sitting in front of him.

“Are you poisoning me?” he asks, mouth full.

“Swallow,” the professor says. “It’s a little late to ask that, no?”

Jisung becomes very still.

The professor sighs and pulls the bowl toward himself. He puts a spoonful of rice into his mouth, leaving it clean with his lips on the plastic. His gaze is so heavy Jisung feels like a deer in headlights. Don’t move.

They make Felix drink and eat. The professor tried first, but she refused. She spit rice at him. Jisung soothes her and feeds her small spoons. She drinks water in slow gulps. Her skin looks better in the afternoon.

She presses her mouth shut when she’s given pills.

Jisung squints at the three white tablets. Two are bigger, ibuprofen. One is small and round.

“What is that?” he asks.

The professor reaches for a small yellow toiletry bag.

“The pill,” he says. “It would be very annoying if you got your period here.”

Felix whimpers at the other implication and stares at her small bag with big glassy eyes. She takes the pills.

“I need to pee,” she whispers.

Jisung imagines one of them carrying her to the toilet. He looks at her foot, covered in a fresh bandage, and swallows. Any movement makes her cry.

The professor takes a bowl from the counter and squats beside her. He looks at Jisung.

“Open her pants,” he says.

Felix’s chest starts heaving. Jisung can hear her heart. It’s faster than his own.

“What?” he asks. He doesn’t— He flinches when he gets it.

He’s careful opening the button and zipper of her jeans. She whines quietly. Jisung pulls her pants down to her thighs, revealing baby pink panties. There’s a small bow at the front. Felix clings to the hem of her shirt and pulls it down. It doesn’t cover anything.

Jisung stares at it, because he’s dreading the next step. The professor just watches.

“Jisung-ah,” he says. “You don’t want her to piss the bed you both sleep in, right?”

He takes a deep breath and Felix lets it happen.

Her pussy is shaved and pink. She sobs quietly. Her whole body is shaking. She whimpers when the professor pushes his hand beneath her back and lifts her up to squeeze the bowl underneath her ass. Jisung tries to take her hand, but she grips her shirt again. It doesn’t cover anything.

The sound of her pee dribbling into the bowl is too loud in the cabin. She tries to hide her wet face in her cuffed arm. Jisung’s heart is hammering in his chest.

“Good girl,” the professor says.

Felix whines.

Jisung can’t see the piss, just the edge of the red plastic bowl between her soft thighs. She must be so scared. He is.

She finishes with trembling legs. The professor gives her tissues and takes the bowl. Felix cleans herself up and Jisung looks away.

When she claws for the waistband of her pants, the professor stops her.

“Hold still,” he says.

He has scissors. Felix whimpers and Jisung’s hand twitches. It’s on her thigh, keeping it close to himself. Whatever help that is.

The professor cuts her jeans from the cuffs up to the top. Felix breathes so fast Jisung thinks she might be hyperventilating. Her pussy is still uncovered. She’s squeezing her thighs together. Jisung can see her muscles trembling. There’s small, light hairs on her legs.

The professor says nothing.

Felix doesn’t either, because she’s learned to be scared.

Her pants fall off her leg and get peeled away. The professor pulls her panties down, slow and careful. Felix starts crying again.

Jisung uses the edge of the blanket to cover her crotch. He should’ve done that five minutes ago. He hates himself.

Felix moans quietly when the professor has to lift her foot to pull the panties off completely. Now she’s naked from the waist down. Jisung wants to pull her towards himself and shield her. He’s scared.

Jisung looks up at the professor with big eyes. He just stands there, watching.

“Don’t rape her,” he whispers.

Felix sobs.

The professor says nothing.

He finds a new pair of panties and slowly threads Felix’s legs through them. When she’s covered, he sighs.

“I’m married,” he says.

It shuts Jisung up. He thinks he knew that before.

Hyunjin had thirsted for the professor, over a year ago. He’d never paid so much attention in class, he told Jisung. He lamented the ring on the professor’s finger, the dismissive way he treated Hyunjin. Jisung wants to hit his head against the wall until he remembers the professor’s name. Hyunjin had said it, moaned it just to prove how good it sounded.

Felix drifts away after a while. Jisung watches her. The professor watches him.

Everything is spinning. Everything hurts. Why the fuck is he here?

They’re left alone until night time. The professor does something around the cabin. Prepare. Clean up.

Jisung has to pee again. He goes quietly. He feels so fucking sorry for Felix it wrecks through him like a sob.

Felix has to pee again. She cries. The professor lets Jisung do everything. He just watches.

“Do you get off on this?” she hisses. It doesn’t drown out the sound of her pee hitting the bowl.

Jisung has covered her crotch with the blanket. He holds the bowl steady and feels it warm up under his fingers. He’d kill himself in embarrassment if it were him instead.

The professor says nothing and takes the bowl from Jisung when she’s done.

Jisung watches him wash it out in a sink.

“No,” he says eventually.

“Then why the fuck are we here?” Jisung spits.

Anger boils inside him like a storm. He doesn’t understand. If not rape, then—

Jisung feels the hairs on his body rise.

The professor says nothing and turns off the lights.

-

Three days go by and nothing changes.

The only thing—

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Felix says. Her cheeks are so red Jisung is afraid her fever has returned.

The professor comes with the bowl.

“No,” she says.

She glares. Jisung understands.

“Ah,” the professor says.

He opens the handcuffs from around the bed frame and puts it on Felix’s other hand.

“It’s gonna hurt,” he says.

Felix frowns and Jisung grabs her arm. It’s all he can do, apparently. Hold onto her. He has no fight.

“Don’t be fucking weird,” she hisses. “Just let me use the bathroom.”

The professor clicks his tongue. “I warned you.”

Felix sits up slowly. Jisung helps her. His hands are still tied with a plastic zip tie and it’s fucking annoying. She turns to bend her legs over the edge, carefully keeping her bandaged foot in the air. The professor watches her closely. She breathes deeply as she looks up at him.

“I don’t need your help,” she says.

The professor says nothing.

Jisung sees her rise on one leg and then it starts. The screaming. He flinches so hard his shoulder hits the wooden wall.

The professor catches Felix around the waist before she can fall. She’s moaning and whining like she doesn’t know what’s happening. Jisung certainly doesn’t. He’s scared.

“Shh,” the professor murmurs.

He has one arm around her back and the other grips her bad leg to hold it up just enough that her toes don’t touch the floor. She’s still only wearing panties. Jisung sees the way his hand makes the flesh of her thigh bulge between his fingers.

“It’s okay,” the professor whispers.

Felix is shaking. She’s crying and clawing into his sweater and then— she buries her head into his shoulder. Sobs wreck through her and it hurts Jisung to look at this.

“It’s the blood flowing into your foot,” the professor explains quietly. “It’ll be over soon.”

Jisung doesn’t know what to make of this. This gentle voice, this soft touch, this man who kidnapped them. He watches the professor rub his thumb over her thigh in soothing motions. She’s still trembling, but her cries are more quiet.

“Attagirl,” he says.

“Fuck you,” she sobs.

The professor moves around Felix. Her arm is over his shoulders and he’s holding her hand. He helps her hop towards the bathroom. Jisung follows, unsure and small.

Felix sits on the toilet and stares at the professor so furiously he stops.

“I hope you fucking drop dead,” she spits and yanks the door shut. There’s no lock.

The professor says nothing.

Jisung is the one to help her back to bed. The professor is the one to cuff her to the frame again.

“I literally can’t run, you sick fuck,” she grits out.

“Hm,” the professor says. Jisung has never seen him think before. “Be good and I’ll remove the handcuffs.”

Jisung’s been good, no? He hasn’t said anything wrong. He hasn’t said anything.

“I…” he starts. He clears his throat a little. “I’ve… Can you…”

He lifts his bound hands. Felix purses her lips.

The professor smiles. “Not yet, Jisung-ah.”

He reaches out. Reaches out reaches out reaches out and Jisung flinches back but there’s a wall and the professor pats his hair. Jisung feels the warm palm on his head and he wants to die. It gives him hope for a second.

“I thought you’re not supposed to play favorites, professor,” Felix says.

The professor says nothing.

He makes instant ramen for them, Jisung can see. But the food in his bowl makes his mouth water so much he has to swallow. He used to live off of instant ramen late at night. Put half an egg in it if he was feeling fancy. This has stir-fried vegetables and meat in it.

It’s hard to eat with tied hands. It’s hard to shower, hard to sleep, hard not to cry. But Jisung eats, and it’s okay for now.

Jisung dreams of the man in the woods. He dreams of the beast in the woods, the one that’s on the other side of the cabin. But the beast is sleeping, and the man is dead.

Jisung dreams of maggots and flies and rotten flesh. Of a corpse underneath him and a knife in his hands. He’s the professor and he kills the man and it feels like nothing ever has before.

Jisung wakes up, shaking and with a racing heart. It’s dark.

“Hey,” Felix whispers.

His face is pressed into her arm, his limbs curled around her body. He twitches back.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “Nightmare.”

Felix hums. “Been having those. Wonder why.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. He tries to find her face. “For running away and leaving you behind. Twice.”

She sighs. “I would’ve done the same.”

Jisung nods into her shoulder. They’re quiet for a while, but he knows she’s awake. He can feel it in his bones. She’s nestled in there.

“Why does he call you Yongbok?” Jisung asks.

“It’s my name,” she says. Her face is turned into Jisung’s hair. “All teachers call me that. But I go by Felix.”

“Do you know…” He stops when she threads her fingers between his. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

She doesn’t reply for a while. “I don’t know. I think I was on my way home. I’m not sure. You?”

He shrugs and it’s weird in this position. His arms hurt. “I was at the library.”

“I think Professor Lee drugged us,” she whispers.

Jisung—

he stills and his heart runs and the back of his head tingles.

“What?” he breathes.

“I had a weird taste in my mouth when I—”

“No,” he interrupts. He tries to sit up and look at her. His eyes have gotten used to the darkness and she is frowning at him.

“You… know his name?” he whispers.

She blinks. “Yeah… Just his surname. Because it’s the same as mine.”

Professor Lee Professor Lee Professor Lee Professor—

-

—Lee Minho.

Jisung wakes up and knows.

It’s the first thing he says when he sees the professor.

“Lee Minho.”

The water in the sink stops running.

Minho turns around and looks at Jisung.

“Should I be flattered?” he asks.

Jisung’s heart goes so fast it must show through the shirt.

Hyunjin had gushed about him. The sexy anatomy professor. Lee Minho.

Felix makes a surprised noise.

Minho smiles. “Good boy.”

Heat crawls up Jisung’s cheeks. It comes from deep within his guts.

Minho is softer on them. At least he hasn’t vaguely threatened to hurt them in two days. It makes Felix’s tongue looser and Jisung feel too safe. He’s such a good victim.

They get warm food. They get to shower until the water turns cold. They get to sit at the table. They get to see Minho smile sometimes.

“Doesn’t your wife miss you?” Felix asks.

She glares and glowers and scowls at Minho any time she gets. Jisung’s trying to be good.

“Probably, yeah. I’m on a hunting trip. She always misses me,” Minho replies. He watches them eat.

Jisung gets hung up on hunting trip. Hunting what. Hunting who. His fingers tremble until he balls them into fists.

“How…” he starts. “How long is this trip?”

Minho says nothing.

“What about us?” Felix asks instead. She sounds agitated. “We’ve been gone for a fucking week and our friends sure as fuck have noticed.”

Minho rises from his chair, slowly. He takes the bowls and cutlery away from them before he goes to open a drawer of his locked cabinet.

He returns with their phones.

“No one’s missing you,” he says.

Jisung feels sick.

Felix lurches forward and tries to snatch her phone, but Minho holds them out of reach.

“You’re visiting family,” he tells Felix. “In Australia.”

His sharp eyes fix Jisung. He spins the cracked phone between his fingers lazily.

“You’re with your mother. She had an accident.”

Jisung’s guts twist and turn and he wants to throw up. He let himself forget that this is planned out. That there is a plan. For what he doesn’t know, he doesn’t want to know. But it’s in motion, it’s happening.

“Why?” he asks. Quiet and pathetic and helpless.

Minho locks their phones away and says nothing.

“We have to get out of here,” Jisung whispers in the dark.

Felix turns to him as much as her cuffed hand allows. “How?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. There’s no fight in him. Never has been. “I… Whatever he’s planned, I’m scared.”

Felix breathes through her nose. Her fingers search for his.

“I don’t think he’s gonna… touch us,” she whispers. “He would’ve already, no?”

She sounds insecure. Jisung grips her hand so tight it hurts him.

“If he wants to… wants to kill us… I don’t know what he’s waiting for,” she murmurs.

“I think it’s something else,” Jisung whispers.

He doesn’t know what.

-

Minho ruins it all the next day. Their unformed plans.

“I have to pull the stitches,” he says.

Felix backs away against Jisung’s chest.

Minho doesn’t care, and removes the bandages.

She looks at it for the first time. She whimpers.

“It’s healing nicely,” Minho says. “No infection.”

Jisung stares. It’s a raggedy red line across the arch of her foot. The thread is thick and dark. He holds Felix tightly.

She cries again when Minho starts to pull. Jisung lets her bite into his sweater.

“Will she… walk again?” Jisung asks.

He probably shouldn’t. Felix is shaking in his arms.

Minho says nothing as he uses surgical scissors and tweezers to remove the stitches. Jisung watches a crease form between his brows in concentration.

“Yes,” he says then.

It takes a little for Felix to relax again, but she’s given ibuprofen and a banana. She shares a bite with Jisung.

Minho’s phone rings.

It sits on the cabinet by his bed.

Jisung and Felix become very still.

Minho looks at the screen and picks up.

“Hey,” he says.

Felix starts to scream.

It’s so loud it scares Jisung.

Minho is so fast it terrifies Jisung.

He crosses the cabin in two long strides and pushes his hand onto her mouth. He’s pressing down so hard her head gets dug into the mattress. His knee leans on the bed. She keeps screaming, muffled, and writhes under his hold.

Jisung is shaking in the corner.

“Sorry, she’s a screamer,” Minho says with a smile.

He looks at Jisung as he listens to the other person.

Felix is clawing at his hand. She kicks her good leg and thrashes her head and screams.

“Yes,” Minho says. “It’s going great. You should see them.”

Jisung watches his lips move as he speaks. He pushes at Minho’s hand until it slips off Felix’s mouth. She’s gasping for air, scooting back as far as she can.

Minho looks at his palm. Wet and irritated with teeth marks.

“They’re perfect,” he says.

Jisung wants to die.

There’s someone else.

“Did you get him? He’s big,” Minho says. He looks at them. “He tried to save them.”

There’s someone else in the woods with them.

Jisung cries quietly into Felix’s hair. Minho watches his tears. He clicks his tongue.

“Not yet. Get more painkillers, too. And snacks. They’ve been good. Yeah. I know,” Minho says.

He’s still kneeling on the bed with one leg. His body looms over them. Jisung is so scared.

With tears on his cheeks he lets himself admit that Hyunjin was right. Minho is hot. The curve of his neck, the tilt of his lips, the edge of his eyes, the slope of his nose, the veiny hand that he used to suffocate Felix. To shoot her. To kill the man in the woods.

He’s the hot professor you have a crush on and say inappropriate things to your friend about.

He kidnapped two students and holds them captive for whatever fucked up reason.

Jisung feels shame so deep in his blood it’s become a part of him.

“Don’t test me,” he says. It’s low and annoyed. Jisung holds Felix close. She’s hiding in his chest.

“I’ll text you,” Minho says and hangs up.

He looks down at them and sighs.

“Don’t worry. We’ll still be alone for a while.”

-

Three days go by and nothing changes.

There’s a routine by now.

Minho is awake before both of them.

Jisung hears the shower run sometimes.

He goes first, then Felix. He has to help her still. Sits on the closed toilet seat and carefully holds her foot that she’s sticking out of the shower. The bandage can’t get wet Minho said. There’s no curtain. He tries not to look, but sometimes she slips a little, or moves too quick and he has to steady her.

Felix is pretty. Jisung knew that. Before.

He has seen her in class sometimes. Sometimes dolled up, pretty pink cheeks and glossy lips and clips in her hair. Other times in sweats and a bun and without make-up. He’s never paid her much mind.

She is tan, usually. But here her skin pales. It makes her freckles darker. She has them on her shoulders and down her back.

Her nipples are pink. Jisung doesn’t want to know that it’s the same color as her pussy. Her breasts are small and perky and perfect, Jisung supposes. He wouldn’t know. He tries not to look or touch, but sometimes he has to and it does nothing for him. He’s relieved for her.

Felix isn’t shy with him, per se. She can’t really afford to be. But Jisung knows she appreciates that he doesn’t look at her when she can see it.

“Do you… Sorry, do you shave?” he asks.

He spends most of the time looking at her leg as she showers. It’s hairless up to her thigh, where there’s only invisible body hair.

She snorts. “No, I got laser all over.”

“Oh,” he breathes.

He doesn’t want to say, but it surprised him that her pussy is still smooth and bare after so long. Minho doesn’t allow them razors.

“You should try,” she says and smiles at him.

Jisung pouts. His chin and upper lip have dark stubbles by now.

“Maybe. When he lets us out for Christmas,” he jokes.

It’s not funny, but Felix laughs. It’s beautiful. He smiles.

Minho cuffs Felix’s hands together instead of tying her to the bed. She squints at him in suspicion, but doesn’t insult him.

“You’ve done well,” he tells her.

Jisung feels his heart tug. What about him?

Minho eyes him for a moment before going back to sit at the table.

It’s what he’s spending his time with. His laptop.

Jisung wonders if there’s wifi. For a second he misses TikTok. Then he misses being home.

Minho types on his laptop all day. Drinks coffee. Looks like the professor he is.

“Are you working?” Felix asks.

She moved to sit next to Jisung with their backs against the wall and their legs stretched over the bed. They watch Minho. There’s not much else to do.

“Yes,” Minho says. “Most of my students will fail.”

“We are only as good as our teachers,” she replies.

Jisung hides a smile.

“It’s a shame I never had you, Yongbok-ah,” Minho says and casts them a glance.

She shuts up at the innuendo. “Freak,” she mutters.

“Jisung-ah,” he says. He shuts the laptop. “I need your help.”

Jisung stares. His heart starts pounding. He feels sweat start to dampen his palms.

“Uh…” he says dumbly.

Felix frowns. “What you need is twenty years in jail.”

Minho ignores her as he hauls Jisung off the bed. The hand on his arm grips him tightly, almost painfully so. He squeaks as he’s dragged across the mattress. His knees hit the floor and it hurts. Blood rushes in his ears as he blinks up at Minho.

The view is—

Minho smiles, slowly.

“I know you’ve been dying to get out,” he says.

Felix gets cuffed to the bed again and she’s screaming as Minho leads Jisung to the front door.

The outside is so beautiful Jisung cries.

He’s scared and his legs feel like jelly and his wrists hurt and the trees are carrying yellow-golden leaves.

There’s nothing but trees. Jisung isn’t even sure which direction they came from that night.

Minho lets him have a minute. How nice.

“Come on,” he says and pulls him along.

Jisung stumbles more than walks as they round the cabin. It looks bigger from the outside.

There’s a huge freezer at the back. It’s white and has a lock and it sends a shiver down Jisung’s spine. A human could fit in there. Jisung could fit in there.

He stops, but Minho yanks him towards it.

Jisung trembles as Minho unlocks it.

He could run.

Felix.

He doesn’t. It pains him.

Minho turns to look at him, one hand pushing the lid open.

“Don’t be shy,” he says.

Jisung whimpers. He comes closer. There’s so much meat in the freezer it makes him sick. Minho grabs his bound hands and stacks frozen packs of flesh on them.

Jisung’s heart pumps so hard he feels like he’s gonna pass out or throw up.

“It’s deer,” Minho explains as he rummages around the freezer. “I shot it.”

“In the foot?” Jisung can’t help but ask.

Minho smiles. It’s quick and real and Jisung shivers.

Felix has angry tears on her cheeks when they return. She pulls at her cuffs.

“What the fuck did he do?” she hisses.

Minho says nothing and takes the meat to the kitchen nook.

“Nothing,” Jisung says quickly. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to go back to her, so he just stands in the middle of the room like an idiot.

“How do you like your steak?” Minho asks.

“Rare,” Felix snarls.

“Well done,” Jisung whispers.

Minho smiles.

It’s weird.

Minho cuts their steaks into little pieces for them so they can use spoons. It tastes so good it’s obscene.

He almost seems happy. Jisung’s legs twitch with how ready he is to flee.

“Got something to celebrate, oppa?”

Jisung flinches at the word.

“It’s my birthday,” Minho replies. He smiles around a mouthful of meat.

Jisung stares. Felix chokes on a piece of deer.

“How… How old—” he starts, but he doesn’t dare to finish. It seems too personal.

“Thirty-six,” Minho says.

“Happy fucking birthday,” Felix mumbles.

Minho watches them eat for a moment. “Did you know you two are only a day apart? September 14th and 15th.”

Felix stills.

Jisung stops chewing and blinks his big eyes.

“Why the fuck do you know our birthdays?” Felix asks.

Minho puts the silver fork into his mouth and pulls the meat off its prongs with his teeth.

“I stalked you for months,” he says.

Jisung feels the slimy flesh crawl up his throat and he gags.

“Swallow,” Minho tells him.

Jisung’s eyes water with the next convulsion of his stomach muscles. There’s a hand on his mouth that isn’t his own. Everything is spinning. He swallows.

“Good boy,” Minho says.

“I want to go home,” he rasps and it’s pathetic.

Minho says nothing.

-

They cling to each other at night.

Now that Felix isn’t cuffed to the bed anymore she takes the spot on the inner side, between Jisung and the wall.

He can’t sleep.

Felix shifts in his arms. Her small fists are curled into his sweater.

The cabin gets cold at night.

She makes a breathy sound.

Jisung holds her tighter.

His mind flashes from white teeth around bloody meat to a warm palm on his spit-wet mouth.

Felix presses closer. Her heart hammers in her chest. He can feel her breasts pushing into him.

Jisung realizes what’s happening when her legs tremble and she’s squeezing her thighs together.

She moans quietly, not unlike when she’d been feverish.

He doesn’t move.

Her breath fans over his neck. It’s quick and hot. She makes cute little sounds, he admits.

Felix wakes up after she cums.

“Hey—” Jisung says quietly, but she flinches. “Sorry.”

She stares at him in the dark. He can feel the heat of her face.

“It’s okay,” he whispers.

Felix buries her head into the crook of Jisung’s neck. He tries to stroke her hair, but the position doesn't allow it.

Her mouth is on his skin. She's just breathing, but it feels nice anyway.

Felix angles her face up and she kisses him.

It’s soft. Warm. Intimate.

Her lips are dry and bitten. He kisses back.

Jisung feels like crying again.

She sniffs quietly and pulls back.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

He shakes his head. It rustles the sheets.

“I’m gay,” Jisung mumbles after a while.

“I know,” she replies.

It wasn't that kind of kiss.

“I…” She swallows. Her fingers are digging through the fabric into Jisung’s heart. “I dreamed of him.”

Jisung smiles into her hair. “You freak,” he whispers.

Felix breathes through her nose. “He fucked me on his office desk.”

“How romantic,” he replies.

They're quiet again. Jisung doesn't say anything when he feels her tears wet his sweater.

-

The thing is, he thinks about it.

Of course he does. Felix had cum from the dream.

He imagines her in a classic school uniform, even though they don’t have those at their university. Short skirt, tight blouse. She can make her eyes just as big and round as Jisung’s he knows.

Minho is wearing a suit. He’s strict and cold.

He tells her she’s good when she spreads her legs on his desk. She’s wearing those pink panties from that night.

Tells her she’s pretty and tight and wet for him. Fucks his cock into her pussy without a condom. She whines and cries and moans. He fucks her so hard she has to cling to him.

It changes halfway through.

Minho fucks Jisung so hard he has to cling to him.

He whimpers and sobs and makes pathetic sounds and Minho tells him how good he feels. How good he takes him. How good he is.

Jisung cums with a fist around his cock and a fist between his teeth.

The water in the shower is so hot as it bears down on his shoulders it burns. He’s breathing heavily.

He stares down at his cum vanishing in the drain and hates himself.

Felix raises her brows at him when he returns with flushed cheeks.

Minho says nothing.

They’re so bored it’s annoying.

Nothing happens.

They keep playing “I spy with my little eye” until Minho shuts his laptop so forcefully they flinch.

He gets up and stands before them.

“I spy with my little eye a huge fucking psychopath,” Felix mutters.

“Be good,” Minho says.

He takes Jisung and drags him outside.

He almost falls down the front steps.

Minho kneels in front of him and Jisung stops breathing.

He stares, big-eyed. Remembers the image of his cock.

There’s something cold around his ankle. Hard and unyielding.

Minho rises to his feet and smiles. He’s just a sliver taller. They’re close. Jisung can feel his breath on his face. He shivers.

A hand closes around his bound ones and he’s led away from the cabin.

They almost reach a tree when something tugs at his foot. Jisung looks down. There’s a shackle around his ankle. A chain leads all the way back to the cabin.

Jisung feels like a dog.

“You were good, Jisung-ah,” Minho tells him.

His heart stops for a moment. “I… really?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “It makes me happy.”

Jisung almost whines. Happy.

Minho pulls the Swiss army knife out of his pocket. It’s spotless as he cuts through the zip ties.

The relief hurts so much he lets out a shocked gasp.

“Shh,” Minho murmurs.

He takes Jisung’s wrists and carefully rubs his thumbs into the ring of bruises.

Flexing his fingers and bending his hands, it calms him that Minho keeps holding onto him.

“I’ve got you,” Minho tells him. There’s a smile.

Jisung smiles back, unsure and small.

Minho pulls back and leaves. His fingertips catch on Jisung’s and it feels good.

He’s alone.

The woods are quiet. He pulls a little on the chain. Crouches down to pry at the lock, but it’s unforgiving.

His socks get soggy with dirt. It’s cold. Minho’s touch was warm. The shame eats at him and devours his guts.

Felix looks so small in Minho’s arms.

He’s helping her walk. Hop. Her bad foot hovers in the air. They stop at the top of the stairs.

Minho has an arm around her waist and he brings it down to grab her ass and push her up. His other hand holds her arm tightly around his shoulders. She squeaks as he lifts her and carries her down the three steps.

Jisung watches. Her cheeks are red with embarrassment and anger as Minho’s hand slips to her waist again. Her shirt rides up and his palm rests tightly on her skin. At least she’s wearing sweatpants.

“There we go,” Minho tells her.

They reach him and Felix pushes away from Minho to lean against Jisung instead.

“How’s your… foot,” he asks.

“Well, I can’t fucking walk,” she replies.

“We can try it soon,” Minho says.

A shiver runs through Felix. Jisung feels it on his body.

“Sorry I’m ruining your huge plan, whatever it is,” she hisses.

Minho blinks at them. “I was always going to shoot you, Yongbok-ah.”

Jisung freezes. Felix flinches and makes a weird sound.

“What?” he whispers.

“It happened a little earlier than planned, but it’s fine. It wasn’t supposed to be your foot, though.”

“You… Where…” she stammers.

Minho clicks his tongue. “Your arm. But this is better. Now you can’t run.”

He smiles.

Jisung feels so cold his limbs are numb.

“Why not Jisung?” she asks. It’s quiet and afraid and he doesn’t blame her.

“Don’t worry your pretty heads about the plan. It’s going perfectly well.”

Pretty. Minho leaves.

They’re alone and shivering.

Jisung doesn't know if he can handle it much longer.

Things go wrong, then, before they get better. After that it’s hell.

They’re on the bed. Minho is working. He put actual handcuffs on Jisung now, too. It feels like a reward.

Felix is pulling a sweater on because she’s cold. Jisung frowns.

“How did you get our sizes?” he asks.

It’s all brand-new clothes. He wonders if Minho ever broke into his dorm room to look through his stuff. There’d been a couple of burglaries lately.

Minho says nothing.

Jisung knows what it means. He’s silent when the answer would give away too much.

He cuddles with Felix and braids her hair. It needs conditioner very badly. She shifts around a lot, but the braids look cute. Even Minho glances up. He gave them hair ties from Felix’s toiletry bag.

She nestles into his chest. Squirms around. Sighs in annoyance.

“You okay?” Jisung asks.

She just shrugs. They’re not okay. How could they be?

It happens after dinner.

The food is good. It pisses Jisung off.

“Is cooking your hobby?” he asks.

“Yes,” Minho replies.

“What else? Kidnapping students?” Felix asks.

“Yes,” Minho replies with a smile. “You’re not the first.”

Jisung’s heart seizes so tightly it hurts. He blinks down at his bowl and grips the plastic spoon so hard it cuts into his skin. He pushes the bowl away.

“Will you please let us go?” His own voice sounds foreign to his ears. “I… We won’t report you. Please.”

Felix is quiet.

Minho leans his chin on his palm and looks at him. He doesn’t seem thirty-six. He’s ageless.

“You know I can’t do that, Jisung-ah,” he says.

Felix gets up so abruptly the chair makes an uncomfortable noise on the floor. She buries herself in the blankets on their bed and turns to the wall.

Minho follows her with his eyes.

Jisung pleads.

“Please,” he whispers. “Let us go, I’ll do anything. Let her go.”

“Anything?” Minho echoes. He sounds amused.

Anything. Anything anything anything. Jisung has imagined every possible thing Minho could do to them. It scares him more that nothing has happened yet.

“You’re already doing just fine, Jisung-ah. There’s nothing else I need from you but this,” he says.

Jisung can see in his eyes the utter satisfaction of telling him this. Because Minho believes it. It makes his skin crawl with shame that he blushes at this.

Felix is curled up and quiet. Jisung presses against her back for warmth, because she hogged the whole blanket.

“Jisung,” she whispers. He barely hears it.

“Hm?”

“I… I’ve got a problem.” She sounds embarrassed.

She turns to face him. The blanket rustles as she lifts her hands to peek out from underneath.

Jisung sees her fingers. Some are stained a dark red. He frowns before he gets it.

“Oh,” he replies. “Uh…”

Felix opens her mouth to speak, cheeks flushed pink, but her gaze snaps to something behind Jisung and she whines.

“Yongbok-ah,” Minho says.

She hides her hands and scoots as far back against the wall as possible. It’s like the tree. She’s trapped.

Jisung sits up, a small obstacle to shield her.

“Show me,” Minho tells her.

She shakes her head, wide-eyed and shivering.

“Don’t be difficult,” he scolds.

Minho is strong. He’s broad in his sweaters and shirts. He pushes Jisung out of the way so easily.

Too fast he’s between Felix’s legs, forcing them apart until they’re spread wide. She cries out and kicks and writhes, but Minho sees. The small red spot on her crotch.

Jisung can see her tremble and start to cry and uselessly push at Minho’s hands.

“Get off,” Jisung hisses and pulls at Minho’s arm.

He eventually backs off and stands before the bed.

“Are you not taking your pill?” Minho asks.

Jisung can’t read his face. He never can.

“Yes, I am,” she shouts. “But apparently something is stressing me out so fucking much my hormones are fucked. Got any idea, professor?”

“Sorry,” Minho says. He blinks.

Felix is so surprised she stops crying. Jisung has crawled over to her, squeezing her hand. Now he just stares.

Minho rummages in one of his bags, while Felix stuffs tissues into her underwear. She’s still sniffling.

“This is the best I can do,” he offers.

He gives her fresh clothes and a make-shift pad made of bandages and medical tape.

“I fucking hate you,” she spits.

She doesn’t let anyone help her as she hops to the bathroom.

“You planned the whole fucking thing and didn’t get tampons?” Jisung asks. He’s in such disbelief he forgets to be scared.

“I think I had a little too much faith in the pharmacy industry,” Minho sighs.

Felix hops back, face twisted in frustration.

It’s then that Minho gets his phone and starts calling someone.

Jisung pulls Felix in and holds her close. He almost doesn’t want to listen to the phone call.

“Hey,” Minho says. “Change of plans.”

It makes his heart stop.

“Yeah. She got her period. I know. I know. Buy some pads. And tampons.”

Felix pulls the blanket over her head.

“No, he’s been good. Yeah. Well, then fucking change it. I— no. Not yet. They’re not ready. Okay, text me.” Minho hangs up.

Jisung is painfully aware that every word was so carefully chosen that they were supposed to hear but not understand.

Felix doesn’t say anything for a whole day. Not even to Jisung. She cries a little at night and glares at Minho, but she doesn’t speak.

Minho prepares a few more pads. They soak up the blood just fine, Jisung supposes, but it must be so humiliating. He holds Felix and lets her be angry.

“Do you want some tea?” Minho asks.

She chucks their pillow at him. Jisung watches him get hit in the chest, soft and painless. He raises his brows at Minho. It’s his own fault.

“I want you to fucking kill yourself,” is what she eventually snarls.

Jisung smiles into her hair.

Minho makes her tea. Hands her a steaming cup. His one mistake.

Felix takes it. Pretends to drink. Minho watches her.

She glares at him over the edge.

“It’s chamomile—” Minho starts.

Felix throws the tea at him. It’s scalding hot, Jisung can tell. From the way Minho yells.

“Fuck,” he shouts.

Jisung snorts.

They don’t use the distraction to flee. They just watch Minho suffer.

His sweater is drenched. His face is red. The tips of his hair drip onto his cheeks.

Minho opens his eyes.

Jisung stills. Felix curls back against his chest again.

“Yongbok-ah,” he says. Calm. “I’m being nice to you because you got your period when you were not supposed to. I can tie you to the bed again, hm?” He comes closer. “I can make you piss in the bowl again. There’s a gun in this cabin and you don’t know where it is. I hear you talk at night, did you know? Even when you whisper. I’m flattered, really, but don’t fucking push it.”

Jisung’s heart rabbits in his chest. Pounds so hard he’s sure Felix can feel it. She makes a small sound.

“What was that?” Minho asks.

“Sorry,” she whispers. Her voice is hard, but Jisung knows she’s scared. She’s trembling.

Minho leaves.

Pulls his sweater over his head and uses a towel to dry his hair. Jisung sees his naked back. His muscles are like marble. Chiseled into stone. They move so perfectly under his skin. Jisung sees his naked back, littered in small scars.

Jisung wonders what it would feel like under his hands.

Jisung wonders if Minho is actually working or just pretending. He doesn’t think the other professors work that much.

Minho types away on his laptop, sitting in front of Jisung. He’s quiet.

Felix is in the bathroom and Jisung sits at the table. He’s bored.

“Do you have games? Like, UNO?” he asks.

He thinks he can afford to push a little. Minho likes him better than Felix.

“No,” Minho says.

Jisung pouts. “Can you ask your friend?”

“No,” Minho says.

Felix comes out of the bathroom. Jisung can see that she left the bloody pad sitting in the sink. He doesn’t mind, but it pisses Minho off.

Jisung watches him work. It’s a silver laptop and looks well taken care of. Not like his own eight year old thing that’s already falling apart. He wonders if he will ever see it again.

Minho types quickly. Almost no errors, judging by the way he only rarely hits the delete key.

Jisung surges forward and hits the laptop shut on Minho’s fingers.

Felix laughs at the surprised shout.

Minho glares at him. His jaw is clenched and Jisung can see it twitch. He regrets it instantly.

“I— I’m sorry,” he stammers.

He’s so scared sorry doesn’t make it.

Minho gets up slowly. His fingers look irritated and sore.

Jisung is rooted to the chair. He whimpers quietly as Minho prowls closer, looking down at him.

“You’re sorry?” he asks. His voice is quiet. It makes Jisung shiver.

He nods until his vision blurs.

“Maybe I’ve been too nice to you two.”

Minho grips Jisung’s chin and makes him look up. It hurts. His fingers are warm.

He watches Jisung for a while. The anger dissipates, but there’s something else that stays.

“You need a shave,” Minho tells him.

He bends down and they’re eye to eye for a moment. Jisung is so surprised he doesn’t move. Minho’s gaze is so heavy all the time. It crawls into him and fills him up until he’s drowning inside.

Minho pulls Jisung closer by his thighs. A squeak escapes him. He gets lifted up and higher and he claws his cuffed hands into Minho’s sweater.

The hands on the back of his thighs are warm. They’re almost on his ass.

Minho carries him. Felix says something but Jisung can’t hear it over the rush of blood in his ears. His legs wind themselves around Minho on their own. They’re so close.

The light oak counter is cold when Jisung gets planted on top of it.

There’s a knife. It’s in Minho’s hands. The blade is thin and shines in the light. Jisung makes a small sound.

“Close your eyes,” Minho tells him.

Maybe it’s easier this way. Maybe he’s being nice. The last thing Jisung sees is Minho.

There’s a noise he can’t place.

“You’re a pervert,” Felix says. “You’re seriously deranged and I hope you die.”

Minho hums.

Something soft touches Jisung’s cheek. It’s light and smooth and gets smeared all over his face.

The knife is cold.

Jisung whimpers and tears his eyes open and sees Minho’s face all calm and blank.

He’s shaving Jisung.

“Hold still,” he tells him.

Jisung listens. His heart hammers away in his chest, pounding to be let free and run away. He watches Minho take care of him. It feels like punishment. The beat of his heart changes and it’s shameful.

“A cutthroat razor is better,” Minho says, “than disposable ones. It feels nicer on the skin.”

He wants to nod but can’t, so he just blinks.

The knife is cold on his throat.

Jisung holds still like prey playing dead.

The sounds eat their way into his skin and bury themselves in his pores. He feels clean, and Minho will forever stay in there.

The lotion feels soothing on his face and neck. Warm fingers apply it in slow, deep circles. Minho drags his eyes over his work, assessing and dark.

“All done,” he says.

Jisung dares to breathe again. His hands hurt from curling them into his sweats.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Felix touches his cheek and neck. Her fingers are too cold.

-

Now it gets worse. Worst.

They longed for it, no? To know.

It’s like any other day.

Jisung lost count a while ago. Time swims in his head until he gets dizzy. It’s easier to focus on Minho. He’s calm in the chaos.

Felix complains about the bandage pads.

Minho says nothing.

There’s a knock on the door and everything falls apart.

It’s so quiet for a second, Jisung is sure he’s in a vacuum.

It happens so slowly. Realizing.

Minho unlocks the door and Felix holds onto Jisung so tightly her nails break the skin of his palms.

The door is open and shields their view of the stranger.

Jisung’s heart is beating so fucking hard it echoes in his ears and he can’t hear their voices as they talk and Minho returns with that unreadable fucking blank face and rolls his eyes.

“Make your entrance,” he says.

Hyunjin sticks his head around the door and smiles brightly.

“Hi!”

Felix makes a sound so gut-wrenching it rattles his bones.

Jisung stares, and feels hot all over and his throat is dry and it hurts and something crawls up his spine so violently he starts shaking. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe he can’t breathe. His ribcage snaps open with the force of his heart beating against it.

Jisung stares at Hyunjin and starts to cry.

They can’t say anything as they watch him enter and close the door.

The look in his eyes is sheer fascination and something else. Jisung is about to throw up and he thinks it’s envy.

“Did I promise too much?” Minho asks.

“No,” Hyunjin smiles. “They’re perfect.”

Hyunjin isn’t Jisung’s best friend. It’s casual and they get lunch together when no one else is free and talk about surface level stuff that digs deeper when they’ve both had a cocktail too many at some party.

Jisung tastes bile in his mouth. His throat hurts as it constricts with a pathetic sob.

Then Felix screams. It’s vicious and furious and she’s shaking with it.

“What the fuck?” she shouts. “You— How could you—”

Hyunjin coos at her and comes closer. He wipes at her wet face and she tries to squirm away. She almost hits him, but Hyunjin dodges easily.

“Calm down, baby, it’s alright,” he says.

Jisung crawls away from him until his back hits the wall. His ears are ringing and the only thing he hears is the memory of Minho telling him to swallow. Swallow swallow swallow. He doesn’t throw up.

“Don’t fucking call me that! Get away from me, you psycho,” she snarls.

Everything is wrong. Everything hurts. Nothing makes sense and it’s all too much and Jisung is crying and it fucking hurts.

“Jisung-ah,” Minho says.

His voice breaks through the chaos and Jisung’s eyes snap away from Hyunjin.

“Breathe,” he says.

Jisung knows he can’t, but he’s so fucking scared that he doesn’t dare to disobey.

He wants to die. He wants to die on the spot and not at their hands.

“It’s going well, I see,” Hyunjin says and leans against the table. He crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his pretty head. “You’re softer on them.”

Minho says nothing. He just fixes Jisung with his gaze. It’s the only anchor Jisung has right now and he hates it. He clings to it so hard it digs into his bones.

Felix curls in on herself.

“God, I remember those weeks in this bed. I was so fucking scared you were gonna rape me, hyung,” Hyunjin says with a smile. He twists to look at Minho. “After a while I wanted you to do it just so it’s over.”

Minho moves—to roll his eyes and sort some stuff on the table and push Hyunjin off it. He moves and the spell breaks and Jisung feels lost.

“I know you did,” Minho says. “They do, too.”

Jisung flinches so hard it hurts in all of his limbs. He cowers and pulls his knees up and presses his face so hard into them there’s stars and shapes behind his eyes. He starts praying, in his head. For a God he knows doesn’t exist and knows won’t save them.

Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “Not to ruin the surprise, but he won’t.”

Felix chokes. Her spit gargles in her mouth and Jisung isn’t so sure she won’t vomit.

“What the fuck is going on here?” she hisses.

Jisung looks at her. Her skin is a blotchy red and it scares him, what he sees in her eyes.

“Did you fuck me just so he could kidnap me?”

Hyunjin pouts. Jisung tries to reach out for Felix but she flinches away.

“Don’t insult me, Felix-ah,” he says. “I really do like you. And what we have is great, yeah? I was gonna ask you out on a real date.” He stops to think. “After this.”

“You can fight later,” Minho says.

Jisung is shivering so hard he feels like his skin came off. He presses his mouth into his knees and bites down so his teeth don’t clatter and he prays and prays and prays.

“We should eat,” Minho says.

Hyunjin perks up and smiles. “Already?”

“I made mushroom donburi.”

He can’t eat. He’ll throw it all up again. Jisung is so scared. Of vomiting of eating of them.

Hyunjin is his friend and Jisung remembers vaguely that he was hooking up with a girl for a while right before this. He never said her name.

Hyunjin is his friend and Jisung remembers clearly how he’d vanished for a month. Two years ago. He returned different. Told everyone he’d been with family. Jisung hadn’t asked and so he’d forgotten about it quite quickly again.

“Boring,” Hyunjin says now. There’s something in his eyes.

Felix cries out when Hyunjin touches her. He doesn’t seem fazed and pulls her up.

“Be—” Minho starts, but Felix whimpers and falls and Hyunjin catches her just in time. “Careful.”

Felix struggles in the hold on her. Kicks her leg and winds her arms and bites.

Hyunjin smiles. “You weren’t kidding about her.”

Jisung runs out of prayers. Out of Gods. There’s only Minho dragging him off the bed.

Minho and Hyunjin sit opposite them.

Felix is gripping her plastic spoon so hard it snaps. She stops to look at it for a second before she surges forward to plunge the jagged end into Hyunjin’s arm. He pulls away easily. Coos at her.

She’s breathing heavily and her anger has doubled in the last— hour?

“Eat,” Minho says.

Jisung feels sick. The mushrooms are slimy.

Felix refuses.

“Hyunjin,” Jisung whispers. His throat hurts. “Did you—”

He doesn’t know what he wants to ask. No reply could save him.

“Hm? I told hyung you’re perfect for this, Sungie,” Hyunjin says.

Perfect. Hyung? Jisung’s heart seizes. It curls so tight into itself all the blood gets squeezed out of it.

Minho eats. He finishes and leans back and watches them.

Felix doesn’t eat. Hyunjin does. Jisung lifts spoonfuls of rice into his mouth until there’s no space left between his cheeks. He feels so hollow.

“Hyunjin was… like you,” Minho says.

Everything stops. Stops spinning stops hurting stops. Jisung looks up.

“The way he turned out…” Minho sighs. Hyunjin pouts. “That’s why I needed two this time. To balance it out.”

Felix swipes her bowl off the table. It clatters somewhere on the ground, spilling rice and mushrooms and vegetables all over the wooden floor. Hyunjin follows it with his eyes.

“Need two for what? I’m so fucking tired of your cryptic shit, just tell us,” she hisses.

“I’ll let you go,” Minho says.

Jisung stops breathing. His lungs burn. They burn and burn and burn, but he’s scared Minho will take it all back if he breathes.

“You can go home and back to your lives and forget about this,” he continues. “If that is what you want. After.”

Felix snorts. “I don’t believe a thing you say.”

Hyunjin doesn’t look so cheerful anymore. The other thing in his eyes is unsettling. He leans his head onto his palm and looks at Minho as he talks.

Looks at him like Felix does. With hatred.

“After what?” Jisung whispers.

Minho smiles. “I’ll show you. Tomorrow.”

Their routine falls apart around Hyunjin.

He brought real menstruation pads and tampons and snacks. He tries to chat with them, smiles and sits close and talks like he’s one of them. Jisung feels his skin crawl.

“You’re lucky,” Hyunjin tells them. “You’ve got each other. I was all alone.”

“No wonder you went fucking crazy,” Felix spits. “What did he do to you, huh?”

Hyunjin says nothing. But his face betrays him—his mouth pulls into an ugly thing.

“He made me into something else than who I was. I will never forgive him,” he says then.

Minho hears it all, of course. The cabin isn’t big.

They don’t sleep. How could they?

Felix cries quietly.

Jisung drowns and drowns and drowns in his head. This isn’t real. It can’t be.

He doesn’t know where Hyunjin is. If he left or if he lies on the floor or if he sleeps with Minho. The thought is nauseating.

-

Minho makes them leave the cabin the next day.

He puts the shackle around Jisung’s ankle and carries a struggling Felix down the steps. Hyunjin descends the stairs like he owns the entire forest.

Minho goes inside and closes the door.

“Are you going to hunt us for sport?” Felix asks. She’s glaring from where Jisung holds her up around her waist.

Hyunjin smiles. “That would be fun! But you can’t really run away, so it would be over way too soon.”

“Oh no,” Felix grits out.

“Hyunjin, do you like him?” Jisung asks.

“Minho-hyung? I wouldn’t mind if he fucked me in the bed he shares with his wife,” Hyunjin replies. “But if he falls down the stairs and breaks his neck I’d love to watch.”

No one says anything for a while.

It’s torture, the waiting.

“I’m really sorry, Felix,” Hyunjin says. She looks up, but there’s nothing good in her eyes. “When we met at that party, it was real. Only when he… Minho-hyung noticed you. Said you were perfect. And I… he’s right. Look at you. You don’t know it, but there really is no one who fits better. I’m not sure I could’ve been you if he’d done it right the first time. I’m afraid I’d be Jisung.”

Nothing makes sense. Jisung’s head hurts and he feels another wave of tears behind his eyes. His skin feels wrong on his bones.

“Save your delusions, you freak,” she snarls. “I don’t need your apology, I need you to run into that tree until your brains spill out.”

Hyunjin smiles. It’s wide and pretty and genuine. “He did so well with you.”

The door opens and Minho pays them no mind when he rounds the cabin. Jisung hears the faint sounds of the freezer being opened.

His heart is pounding.

Minho returns with an armful of meat. His eyes catch Jisung’s for just a second.

Hyunjin says nothing.

The door closes.

“I’m curious about you, Sungie,” Hyunjin says then. “You’re so quiet. I miss your endless rambling.”

His smile is kind. They are friends. Were before Minho kidnapped Jisung, before Minho kidnapped Hyunjin.

“I miss when my wrists didn’t hurt,” he replies. “I miss when I didn’t know Felix’s name is Yongbok.”

She turns her head into him, buries her face into his shoulder. They’re in each other’s bones for the rest of their lives.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin says again. Minho is infinitely better at this than him. “Truth is, I was sure it was gonna happen anyway. Without me telling him about you.”

“What was gonna happen?” he asks, quietly. His voice quivers.

“He’d find you somehow, or you’d find him first. Eventually. Maybe not like this, but… You’re perfect for him. And he’s perfect for you.”

It hurts to hear this. It hurts in his chest with how much his heart swells and his pulse quickens and his blood warms. Felix curls into him. He holds her as close as he can.

He thinks she understands before him. He’s still lost, and afraid.

Minho calls them inside.

He makes Hyunjin carry Felix and she spits into his face. He just smiles.

Minho removes the shackle. Removes the handcuffs. Looks at him, with so much in his eyes they are impossible to read.

“I made dinner,” he says softly.

He reaches out to push Jisung’s hair out of his face.

“You’ll let us go after this?” Jisung whispers.

“If you want to, yes,” Minho replies.

He holds Jisung’s hands in his. Not tightly. Jisung could run.

“Is…” Is the answer inside?

“Come,” Minho tells him.

They go inside. Jisung’s hand is still engulfed in a warm palm.

Hyunjin and Felix sit, opposite each other.

Dinner is served.

Jisung looks down at his plate.

A steak, well-done.

There’s a real fork and knife.

His heart is beating so fast.

Minho watches them.

“Is this it?” Felix asks.

“Yes,” Minho says.

“Can I tell them?” Hyunjin sounds like an impatient child, giddy with anticipation.

“No,” Minho says.

He pulls something from his pocket and puts it on the table.

It’s an ID.

The man was old. Sixty-three. Younger in the photo. The beard was still black.

Jisung stares.

“Eat,” Minho tells them.

Hyunjin grins so widely it looks like a grimace.

“It’s meat from his thighs. It’s good,” Minho says and it all falls apart.

Felix flinches back so hard the chair scrapes across the floor. Hyunjin grips her forearm and pins her to the table.

Jisung—

“You fucking monsters,” Felix shouts and struggles against the hold.

Hyunjin shushes her.

Jisung—

“Eat,” Minho says again.

Hyunjin lets go of Felix and digs in. He moans around the flesh.

“You’ve outdone yourself, hyung,” he mumbles.

Jisung— he feels sick.

Minho’s hand finds Hyunjin’s head. He pets through the hair.

“Hyunjin turned out perfect and wrong. He adores me,” Minho says. His fingers wind themselves into black strands. It looks like snakes. “But he hates me, too. I made him do this. It was so easy.”

Felix stares at the steak in front of her.

“I wanted both, but not from him.”

Hyunjin keeps eating, tearing the flesh apart with his teeth. The look in his eyes is hard. His fingers are white around the cutlery.

“I want you,” Minho says.

Jisung— starts crying.

Felix’s shoulders tremble and she’s making such horrible sounds.

“To hate me for what I did to you. I made you like this and yet you listened to me. You want to tear me apart and you’re still eating the man who tried to save you.”

Jisung turns to Felix so slowly it feels like forever.

She’s beautiful. She likes her steak rare. Her small hands and pretty lips are glossy with the red juice flowing from her mouth. There’s something in her hair.

Felix holds the steak in her hands and rips into it with her teeth. She’s groaning and snarling and crying and devours the flesh like it’s the best thing she’s ever eaten.

Hyunjin looks at her like he’s in love.

Jisung—

He’s crying. His chest hurts and he’s shaking and he doesn’t understand and they’re looking at him and he’s looking at Felix eating human flesh and he sobs and cries and it hurts.

Minho stands before him and lifts his chin.

“Jisung-ah,” he whispers. “I made this for you.”

He looks at the steak.

His mouth waters and he cries harder and it wrecks through him like something wrong entered his blood stream.

Minho takes the knife and fork and cuts Jisung’s steak into pieces.

Jisung shakes his head and sobs and grips the edge of the table so hard his nails start to tear.

“Shh,” Minho murmurs.

He makes Jisung look up into his face. Despite the tears he can see Minho so clearly. The fork hovers before his mouth. There’s meat on it.

His stomach turns. From nausea or hunger he can’t tell.

Minho looks at him.

Soft and adoring and loving.

He cradles his cheek.

Swipes his thumb over Jisung’s lips and presses down.

Jisung cries.

He opens his mouth.

Minho holds him and feeds him the flesh.

It tastes so good. It feels so good. It fills his mouth and nestles against his tongue and gives under his teeth.

Minho told him to swallow. All those days ago.

Jisung swallows.

“Good boy,” Minho tells him.

He’s smiling and Jisung is crying and he obediently eats all the meat he’s fed.

He was always weak.

“You can take her home,” Minho says and Hyunjin replies something.

Jisung doesn’t hear it. He only sees Minho. He only tastes the umami of a dead man. He only hears Felix make sounds like an animal as she cries.

It’s quiet when they’re alone.

“You did so well,” Minho tells him.

He’s stroking Jisung’s hair and drying his tears with his own fingers.

“It’s okay,” he says.

Jisung curls forward into Minho.

Buries his face into the soft sweater and cries. Minho holds him and comforts him and cards fingers through his hair.

“My Jisungie,” he whispers. “This is everything I want from you. You were so perfect. You made me so happy.”

Jisung sobs. He doesn’t feel sick. He swallowed it all.

His head is spinning and he doesn’t want this to end.

How can he go back to his life like nothing ever happened?

Like Minho didn’t feed him human flesh and held him so tenderly.

He clings to Minho and doesn’t pull away even when his tears dry.

“I’ll bring you home,” Minho says softly.

He pulls Jisung up. His legs are trembling.

Jisung shakes his head. He looks at Minho, at his shining eyes and his curved mouth and his straight nose and shakes his head.

He can’t breathe.

He ate the man who tried to save him and he would do it again if it meant he could stay.

Minho holds his face and strokes his thumbs over his cheekbones.

“Tell me,” Minho says.

Jisung sobs. It’s dry and hurts his throat and rattles his heart inside his ribcage.

He stares at Minho.

He can’t say it.

He can’t fucking say it.

Jisung kisses Minho.

His fingers are still curled into the sweater and he pulls Minho close and presses their lips together.

There’s no space for humiliation in his body because his stomach is already full.

Minho smiles.

He smiles and tilts his head and kisses Jisung and it stops hurting. All of it.

“Good boy,” Minho whispers.

He kisses Jisung again.

Minho made Jisung into something that can’t survive on its own. Jisung doesn’t mind.

They’re kissing.

Minho’s lips are soft and his tongue is slick and Jisung’s mouth fills with flesh again.

He makes small sounds as he’s being guided to the bed— Minho’s bed.

It feels like a reward just to lie on it.

“Say it,” Minho whispers against him.

He tastes the words on his tongue.

“I love you,” Jisung confesses.

It grew inside him like a creature of shame, nurtured by warm hands and rare smiles and his own flesh.

He doesn’t realize he’s being stripped of his clothes. He can only look at Minho.

“Professor—”

Minho makes a sound. He looks surprised for the first time.

Jisung flushes and his head is spinning and Minho kisses him again.

“Try again,” he tells him.

Jisung whines and sniffs and kisses back. “Hyung. Minho,” he says.

“There we go,” Minho mumbles. “You deserve my name.”

Jisung nods. He cries with the praise.

“You’re so perfect,” Minho tells him as he touches his body. “You were made for me.”

It singes his skin, the touch. The words. He moans softly. It feels so good.

“Hyunjin doesn’t understand me,” he whispers. Mouth on bare skin. “Not really. My wife doesn’t either. It was all wrong. But you—”

“Will you eat me?” Jisung whispers. Not scared, just eager.

Minho moans into his stomach. Sucks on the flesh. Licks over it again and again.

“Someday, Jisungie,” he promises. “You’ll have me and I’ll have you.”

It doesn’t hurt.

Jisung cries. He’s full. Minho is inside him and he sobs with the feeling. It’s—

“—perfect,” Minho groans. “You’re so good, Jisungie.”

He’s big. His cock is stretching Jisung so wide and there’s an ache in his guts when they’re pressed as close as they can and Jisung cries.

“You’re so pretty when you cry.”

Minho fucks him and Jisung has never been so happy.

He clings to his shoulders and moans high in his throat and there’s only one thing he prays for. One God.

“Ah— ah, ah, ah, hyung, I love you,” he sobs and moans and takes it.

“You’re everything,” Minho replies. He’s sweating and groaning and touching him so well. “So good for me. All mine.”

Jisung nods and nods and moans so sweetly and Minho fucks him harder. Makes a space for himself inside his body. Jisung writhes and cries and clenches.

Minho kisses all over his face. Tells him how perfect he is, how good he feels, how they’re made for each other. Jisung believes it all. He loves him.

His mouth is on Jisung’s shoulder as he reaches down to touch.

Jisung tenses and chokes and shakes. Faster. Something else grows inside of him. Next to his love in his chest, next to Minho’s cock in his ass, next to the flesh in his stomach.

“Hyung—” Jisung whines.

It builds and builds and builds and he’s so full and he’s so perfect and Minho presses closer and bites into his shoulder so hard it hurts.

Jisung cums and cries out and Minho fucks him faster and digs his teeth deeper and it’s all he’s ever wanted.

“Thank you, thank you— hyung, Minho, ah—”

Minho follows right after. He groans and cums so deep inside Jisung he’s sure it will stay forever.

The come-down is slow.

Minho stays on top of him, inside of him. Holds him close and licks over his wound. It’s bleeding.

“I… Can I stay?” Jisung whispers.

He’s so afraid that Minho won’t let him. He’s never been so scared, he thinks.

“I will never let you go,” Minho promises. “I’ve got you.”

Jisung cries.