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seonghwa and hongjoong had always been inseparable, a bond forged through years of loyal friendship. recently, since moving in together for the first time, their connection only seemed to get stronger than ever. joong had transferred to seonghwa’s university after changing his major, needing a new fresh start next to his best friend, and moving in together felt natural, almost fated.
their shared apartment, small and humble, was filled with the warmth of familiarity, little details of both scattered around, the environment screaming their names. everything was going smoothly, it all felt like their lives were finally working out as they always wished for, it all pieced together perfectly. that was until hwa began to notice changes, changes which he couldn’t ignore, changes that bothered him more than they should.
hongjoong, with his naturally attractive and charismatic personality, got himself a new social circle, he was gaining the attention of others. a little much attention. more than hwa was used to, he always had joong all to himself, that couldn't change. he couldn’t help but feel dreadful fear worm its way into his heart, staining his purity, darkening his once sweet self into something vile. over the passing years, his love for hongjoong had intensified into something all-consuming, something deeper. and now, as more and more people scrambled for joong's time and attention, seonghwa's possessiveness began to bloom, taking place in his system, clouding his brain and heart with insecurity. he couldn’t handle the thought of someone else stealing his friend away, the mere possibility left him restless, and he felt like doing something about it.
he tried everything in his reach to keep hongjoong close. he cooked his favorite meals, showered him with quiet acts of care, words of encouragement when he thought joong would doubt himself, and ensured he was always there when his friend needed him. to the normal eye, his efforts seemed sweet, heartwarming even. but in hwa's mind, it was a meticulously orchestrated plan to remind hongjoong who truly belonged by his side. whose loyalty never faltered.
initially, it appeared to be working. then, one fateful afternoon, everything changed.
seonghwa was working a shift at the cozy café where he’d been employed for the past months. the warm scent of coffee beans and the soft conversations of usual customers surrounded him as he carefully prepared drinks. then the bell above the door jingled, and his heart stopped when his gaze met the ones entering the place. hongjoong walked in, his arm brushing against that of another man— a stranger who was too close, far too close to his liking.
hwa froze, his hands trembling as he watched them from behind the counter, his body got cold and his chest started aching. he noticed how the boy leaned in, how he touched his joong’s arm with such ease, how joong didn’t pull away, how he even playfully shoved closer into the boy. seonghwa couldn’t bear it. quietly, he asked a coworker to switch places, retreating quickly to the kitchen. but from afar, he kept glaring at the scene unfolding before his eyes. his stomach churned as jealousy and rage bubbled up inside him.
mine. he’s mine.
the thought consumed him, echoing in his mind as he watched the pair laugh together. by the time they left the cafe, hwa felt overwhelmed, his vision getting blurry and drowned by liquid crystals. his joong wouldn’t leave him for someone else, would he?
but the days that followed offered no comfort. hongjoong grew closer to that boy hwa despised so much, spending more time with him and less with seonghwa. the increasing distance between them was unbearable. every pang of hurt converted into anger, and every flicker of fear bloomed into a dark, terrible conclusion.
he began to plan.
seonghwa studied the boy that was ripping his joongie away from him, learning his schedule, his habits, the places he frequented. noting everything down and putting his plan into action. guilt whispered faintly in the back of his mind, but he shut it down. this is what you must do, his heart driven thoughts urged him. hongjoong is yours. you're just protecting what’s yours.
on a cold, quiet night, hwa followed the boy through the dimly lit and lone streets with light footstep, quieter than mice. the boy was too caught up with music to notice hwa’s presence behind him.
seonghwa's pulse thudded in his ears as he closed the distance. his breath caught in his throat. for a quick moment, doubt flickered across his mind, but it was rapidly swallowed by a surge of possessiveness. his hands shook, but not from fear... no, this was something far deeper, something more primal. he reached out and, with a strength he didn't know he had, pulled the boy into the shadows.
the boy gasped, caught off guard, but before he could react, hwa pressed him against the cold, rough brick wall. his breath hitched, heart hammering painfully against his ribs as he leaned in, his voice low, barely a whisper. “mine. he’s mine.” the words fell from his lips like a prayer, sinfully chanting, as if they could make it all real.
the boy’s eyes widened, confusion washing over his face, but hwa could barely see it through the cloud of his own emotions, drowning in the overwhelming need to protect, to possess, to make sure that no one could ever take what belonged to him. the boy struggled against him, trying to fight back, but hwa didn’t move. his grip was like iron, holding him in place.
“mine,” seonghwa repeated, his voice trembling now with a mix of desperation and anger. “no one else gets to have him. no one. only me.” he smiled, eyes void of any remorse.
the boy’s struggle grew weaker as the realization of hwa’s intentions began to sink in, but it was too late. his focus sharpened, tunnel vision to just the two of them, the boy’s panicked breaths, and the storm that was his brain.
eyes, dark and focused, never left the boy’s face. “i won’t let you take him. not from me.” determination filled his tone. the boy tried again to break free from his grasp, but it only tightened. there was no turning back now. every moment had led to this; every glance, every word exchanged, every silent plea to keep what he loved the most, to keep it for himself. and he would. at any cost. anything for his joongie.
the pent up rage overtook him, hands pressing around the boy's neck, nails digging hard enough they drew blood, and his strength only increased as seconds went by. the boy lost consciousness, taking advantage of that, hwa dropped the body, reaching for his weapon of choice and repeatedly stabbing the contrary's entire body while chanting the same four letters all over, “mine, mine, mine.” releasing all the anger, the pain, the love. and when it was done, the boy layed lifeless, his butchered body discarded and burning in a dumpster. flames flickering as hwa stood there, head to toe sprayed in thick blood, looking like a monster, but feeling accomplished, he kept watching until there was nothing left but ashes.
when he returned home, it was past midnight, hongjoong had a tiring schedule that day so he figured the younger would be sleeping. he quietly disposed of his bloody clothes, bagging them and hiding them in the trash. after a long shower, he slipped into bed, his mind strangely calm. joong would be his again. everything would return to how it should be.
the next day, hongjoong appeared at the cafe, alone. hwa took the opportunity to serve him his favorite drink, earning a sweet smile in return, one which made his insides flutter. it all was as if nothing had changed. the news of the missing student spread across the university in the following days, but seonghwa felt nothing. why would he? he had done what needed to be done.
but his relief didn’t last long. hongjoong made new friends, two this time, a girl and another boy—and once again, hwa found himself consumed by the same gnawing fear. he tried to ignore it, push it away, but his mind whispered dark, twisted promises. ones to which he obeyed.
weeks passed, turned into months, and a pattern was born. each time the younger grew close to someone new, they disappeared, vanished without a trace. the first few times, seonghwa felt the tiniest bit of discomfort nagging at the back of his mind, a passenger thought that maybe he was taking things too far, but with the outcomes of each, the hesitation faded away. and so, the cycle continued flawlessly as ever.
no one noticed when he intervened, never leaving room for suspicion. he knew the ins and outs of his university, the timing of classes, the schedules of every person involved. it wasn’t hard to keep track, to know when and where these new ties would flourish, only to be quietly severed by his bare hands. and when they were gone, hwa would return to his role as the loyal friend, the one who comforted joong when his new “friend” was suddenly nowhere to be found.
seonghwa’s careful acting was meticulous, calculated, it ensured that no one suspected him, the kind and sweet literature major adored by all. he was the perfect picture of innocence, charming and with a gentle aura that comforted all. even at his job, regular customers dropped by just for him. in the eyes of the outside world, seonghwa was perfect, he was everything anyone could ever want.
it all happened so easy, falling into place perfectly, it almost seemed effortless. he had everything under control. or so he thought.
hongjoong wasn’t that oblivious.
one night, after hwa returned home from his sixth gruesome act of violence, which he painted as one of love, hongjoong was already waiting for him in the hallway. his breath hitched as he took in hwa’s disheveled appearance, his clothes soiled with blood and dirt.
“hwa… is that blood yours?” joong’s voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed his unease.
seonghwa froze, his heart pounding hard against his ribs. he couldn’t speak. he didn’t know how to explain, his brain instantly worked up screaming at him.
“seonghwa, I asked you a question,” the younger repeated, firmer this time.
still, seonghwa kept quiet, his fists clenching at his sides as hot tears blurred his vision.
“take off your sweater,” hongjoong demanded.
he hesitated, but joong’s commanding presence left him no choice, he might be the one consumed by sick, dark urges, but in their dynamic, hongjoong held the power over him. tension thickened, he could feel hongjoong’s expectant gaze on him, the dominance of it making him obedient. “now.” hongjoong said, louder this time. hwa complied, the moment joong spoke, he always had the final say.
slowly, seonghwa peeled off the garment, revealing unmarked skin beneath. the blood wasn’t his.
hongjoong’s expression hardened. “so it’s true,” he murmured, almost to himself. he stepped away towards his room, rustling sounds heard, then returning moments later with something in his hands—hwa’s bloodstained clothes.
the sight of them sent hwa into a panic, head spinning and nausea washing over him. he stumbled back, his knees hitting the couch as joong carelessly tossed the clothes in front of him.
— flashback —
the first time hongjoong discovered the truth, it was entirely by accident. late one night, he went to take out the trash, assuming hwa was too tired to do so. as he opened the can, he noticed an unusually large bag inside, heavier and bulkier than anything he or the older would normally discard. curiosity turned to concern as he rummaged through it. metallic scent hit him first, iron-laced, unmistakably blood. his chest tightened. did something happen to hwa?
panic overpowering logic and reason, he abandoned the trash and hurried back into the apartment. he crept to hwa’s room, where his best friend lay peacefully asleep, his chest rising and falling with soft, rhythmic breaths. hongjoong approached the bed cautiously, his hands trembling as he pulled back the blanket. guilt prickled at him, he felt like he was invading his best friend’s privacy, but fear compelled him forward.
hand inching closer, he carefully lifted the hem of hwa’s flowery pajama top, his gaze tracing every inch of bare skin beneath the fabric. not a single mark. no scratches, no bruises, no wounds of any kind. the blood didn’t belong to him.
he stepped back, mind racing with unanswered questions. he left the room as quietly as he had entered, though the image of the bloodstained bag lingered in his head. confusion quickly grew into suspicion, and his suspicions grew darker still.
couple weeks later, it happened again. hongjoong caught sight of another bloodied set of clothes as hwa returned home late one night, his usually clean demeanor horribly disheveled. quietly, hongjoong collected the clothes after seonghwa left them unattended and checked him again, lifting his shirt and still, there were no wounds.
however, this time, his brain connected the dots. the missing students, which were all coincidentally friends of his. hwa’s strange behavior. the blood that clearly wasn’t his. realization struck like lightning: seonghwa was behind it.
fear laced his heart. the sweet, gentle hwa—his hwa—was a murderer. his friends weren’t simply disappearing; seonghwa was killing them.
at first, he tried to distance himself, a nest of fear tightening in his stomach every time he saw hwa’s soft smile. but the distance didn’t last. seonghwa only grew more attentive, his every action laced with devotion, with utmost love. he made hongjoong his favorite meals, lingered close whenever they were in the same room, and looked at him with a fondness so profound it was almost painful.
hongjoong should have felt horrified. he should have left. instead, he found himself drawn to it, to the older’s unwavering focus on him. it was magnetic.
by the third occurrence, he wasn't surprised.
seonghwa came home late again, his clothes dirtied and his expression serene. joong retrieved the bloodied shirt like clockwork, a newfound routine, hiding it in his own room. but this time, something shifted inside him. alone in the quiet of his bedroom, he stared at the garment, dark stains of blood still vivid and damp under the dim moonlight. the metallic and sharp scent hit him, but faintly mingled with hwa's familiar floral and citrusy perfume.
his breathing quickened. ‘this is so wrong, so sick and wrong,’ he thought. yet, no matter how much he told himself to stop, his body betrayed him. he gripped the shirt tightly, bringing it to his face as his thoughts spiraled. hwa had done this for him. risked everything for him. that knowledge sent a jolt of heat through his veins, blood rushing down to where his body needed to let go the most, overpowering his disgust.
hongjoong let out a low, breathy whine as he pressed the fabric closer, his body reacting instinctively to the rush of emotions. his heart raced, his hips rutting against the bed desperately as he sought release from the tension building inside him.
he shifted, holding the garment against his lower body as his hips worked rhythmically against it, broken sobs leaving his chest and tears wetting his blushed cheeks. a mixture of guilt, arousal, and obsession coiled tighter, until his movements grew urgent, almost frantic.
the pressure snapped, sending his body into a hazy state, he was left breathless, trembling at the realization of how far his feelings for hwa had warped. it was all so deranged, so sick.
after that night, hongjoong’s fear dissolved into something far darker.
the next few occurrences followed the same pattern. seonghwa would come home late, clothes stained, demeanor calm but distant. hongjoong, no longer filled with terror, would collect the evidence like a secret ritual. every time, his obsession deepened. he began to crave the proof of hwa's loyalty and devotion.
eventually, he started to manipulate the circumstances. he made a point of befriending new people— classmates, acquaintances, even strangers, knowing full well seonghwa wouldn't tolerate anyone getting too close to him. it wasn't long before they would all vanish, and hongjoong would be left with another piece of hwa's twisted love.
he was falling for it, for all of it. for him.
the guilt that had once stabbed at hongjoong was replaced by a sick thrill. the more hwa killed, the more loved the younger felt. he started to orchestrate it, becoming the puppeteer, and hwa being his puppet, planting himself at the center of his obsessive devotion. the line between victim and accomplice blurred, until hongjoong no longer cared about the morality of it all.
and so, the two of them fell into their grotesque dance, their actions feeding into one another's obsessions. hongjoong’s friends would disappear, one after another, leaving him surrounded only by seonghwa’s presence.
this looped pattern of manipulation, murder, and obsession brought them to the present moment. the night hongjoong finally confronted hwa, no longer as the horrified, scared witness, but as an equal in their shared depravity.
“i’ve known, hwa,” he said, voice calm but laced with something darker. “i’ve known for quite a while. the late nights, the showers at odd hours, the way you watch me at the cafe…i know everything.”
the taller’s heart sank. burning tears streamed down his face as he whispered, “i’m sorry.” but deep down, he wasn’t. he had done it all for love.
joong’s lips curled into a soft, almost approving smile. “my sweet Hwa,” he murmured, stepping closer. “you’ve done so much for me, haven’t you? you’ve gone farther than anyone else ever would.”
seonghwa looked up, his tear-stained face and sparkly eyes filled with confusion and surprise at the sudden praise.
“i’ve cherished it,” hongjoong continued, cupping hwa’s cheek. “in fact, i wanted to see how far you’d go. i… i made “friends” on purpose, just to see how much you loved me.”
hwa’s breath hitched as joong’s words sank in. the tension that had been weighing him down melted, and in a surge of emotion, he launched himself into hongjoong’s arms, clinging to him tightly. “my joongie,” he whispered, voice trembling with need, nuzzling his nose into the contrary’s neck, the soft scent of his skin filling his senses. he placed a tender kiss right after, a simple act that could somehow make this moment eternal.
joong’s hands settled on the contrary’s waist, his touch possessive yet gentle. “yours,” he murmured softly, voice low and intimate, as if sealing their twisted bond in the still night. hwa could feel hongjoong’s warmth radiating through him, a reminder that he was claimed, that hongjoong would never let him go.
from that moment, their bond deepened into something sick and unbreakable. both twisted by their love, both obsessed beyond redemption, bound by something darker. neither of them could deny the hold the other had on them, a grip so tight, it suffocated yet filled their hearts better than anything else. the world outside no longer mattered. it was only them, and the toxic, perfect chaos they created together. it wasn’t normal. it wasn’t right. but it was theirs—pure in its madness.
they were perfect in the depravity of it all, each piece of their shattered souls fitting into the other’s like a puzzle. together, they destroyed. together, they loved. together, they remained. unwavering, through whatever darkness layed ahead. it was them against all. them.