Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Wynorrific

While this word was not formally recognized by any official dictionary, it had solidified its spot as Taehyung’s favorite word. Wynorrific. Something that is simultaneously beautiful and horrific. The English letters of the word seem daunting, but just like the meaning itself, the word was both alluring and grim. He felt as if it described many things in life: storms, space, the ocean, his art… and himself. 

Taehyung’s eyes darken as he hears the first note of the oboe play. It was time. As he had many other times, Taehyung walks over to his workbench to grab the tools that he would need to complete his new art piece. He was thinking of naming this one Pyotr, after one of his favorite composers. Though the inspiration behind the name had very little to do with music. Pyotr was also the Russian word for rock, which was something just about as irrelevant as the bastard thrashing on the other side of the room.

Humming softly along to the sounds of the french horns, Taehyung begins wiping off the blood of his last artwork from the knife. It was a messy one, which is why he did not even bother to name it. However, he knows that this piece would turn out exactly as he planned. 

“Won’t it, Pyotr? Because you’ll be a good boy for me, right?”

“Let me go– please, I’ll do anything! God, just please let me go–”

Taehyung smiles. The sounds of Pyotr’s pleads were almost as good as Tchaikovsky’s piece. Almost. Like a dance practiced thousands of times, Taehyung gracefully glides the knife across Pyotr’s chest. Not deep enough to draw blood, but enough to make his captive squirm with fear. 

Each slice was precisely done. Taehyung had a vision and he was determined to bring his vision to life. Pyotr was still conscious. Taehyung had yet to do anything lethal, but the man was acting as if Taehyung was ripping his heart out. Oh, that could be fun. Taehyung makes a mental note to add that to his future plans.

As the cuts grow deeper, Pyotr’s screams grow louder and his body writhes more.

Taehyung hums distastefully. If this keeps up, he could end up with a bloody mess just like his most recent piece. Fortunately, he had prepared himself for a situation like this. With his free hand, Taehyung pulls out a syringe from his back pocket.

“As much as I love hearing your screams. You’re moving a bit too much, which could mess up my work,” Taehyung whispers as he sticks the tip of the needle into Pyotr’s vein. “Time for a little nap.”

Unconscious victims were always less fun for Taehyung. The screams added a unique instrumental to the music he listened to. Unfortunately, Taehyung had big plans for Pyotr and he could not let a man as insignificant as this one ruin a possible masterpiece. Within a few seconds, Pyotr’s head collapses. The chains restraining his arms above his head being the only things keeping him upright.

Once Pyotr falls unconscious, Taehyung gets to work. This next part required careful precision. It was his first time attempting this idea and he could feel his hands trembling with excitement. Swiftly, he walks to the other side of the room where the table he recently bought was. Though he owned many tables, this one had wheels, which made it perfect for his vision. After dragging it toward Pyotr, Taehyung returns to his workbench to gather the remaining supplies. Hammer. Nails. That was all. Easier than expected.

Impassively, Taehyung pulls down the pants and underwear of Pyotr. He had no desire to fawn over whether or not Pyotr's dick was big. He had other priorities, which did happen to involve Pyotr’s dick. Grabbing the shaft of Pyotr's dick, Taehyung brings it up to the table, which stands at around where Pyotr’s waist was. The perfect height. Now, if Pyotr was awake, he would most definitely be shivering from the cold surface of the table touching his most intimate area. However, he was not, so Taehyung was saved from the trouble of his unnecessary movements. 

This was his first time doing this kind of art, but Taehyung was determined to do it perfectly. After steadying his hands, Taehyung lines up one of the nails with the head of Pyotr’s penis. With firm hands, Taehyung begins hammering the nail into the table. It takes only two screws to have Pyotr’s full length nailed to the table. Oh, how Taehyung wished Pyotr was conscious so that he could hear him crying for his mommy. The blood caused some pleasure, but not as much as cries of terror did. 

Backing away from the table, Taehyung admires his work. Blood oozes from each puncture wound, painting the metal beneath Pyotr’s dick. Art in its purest form.

The song nears its end, meaning it is time to finish the masterpiece. Bending down to the ground, Taehyung picks up the chains connected to the floor and ties them around Pyotr’s ankles. This would keep him still. From the opposite side of the table, Taehyung slowly begins pulling the table, watching as Pyotr’s dick begins to pull away from his body. A body could only strain so much until… Ah, there it is.

Taehyung smiles to himself. His masterpiece was done. Sure, there was blood pouring out of Pyotr’s nether regions, but it was beautiful. It was like his own scarlet Niagara Falls. However, Taehyung still had one more thing to do. Pyotr was alive and no artwork of Taehyung’s was left unfinished. Grabbing the knife that he had used earlier, Taehyung quickly stabs it into Pyotr’s chest, right where the heart is located. It was the easiest way of killing, one that Taehyung had perfected over the years.

As the orchestra plays its final measure, Taehyung admires his artwork. Pyotr had quickly become one of his favorite pieces. His fearful cries would have improved it, perhaps, but perfection was impossible.

“Farewell, my Pyotr,” Taehyung whispers to the lifeless body. He would have to call a maid to clean the mess later before adding Pyotr to the gallery. Taehyung still had other plans for the day.

–

Autumn was Taehyung’s favorite season.

It was a beautiful season, where the leaves transformed into an assortment of colors and flew away from their trees like swans escaping hunters. It was a wynorrific season. Everything was dying, but the beauty of it made most people forget that fact. Taehyung was not one of those people. He found joy in seeing that nothing was able to escape the circle of life, not even nature.

Taehyung pulls his hat down lower to cover his ears, shivering as the cold penetrates each part of his skin that is left uncovered. He had taken a taxi to avoid the blistering cold, yet it still was able to catch him on the short walk from the road to the building.

The building Taehyung was walking to was an unassuming and boring building. However, the stories that were told inside would beg to differ. The Korean National Ballet was one of the most prestigious dance companies in all of South Korea. No, Taehyung was not a dancer, but his father did own the company. He was fortunate enough to not have been forced into ballet as a child. It seemed like torture to be on your toes all the time. Funny, ballet was also wynorrific. The performances were always so beautiful that barely anyone knew that the little swans were dancing with bloodied and bruised feet.

“Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung turns his head in the direction of the voice. It was Park Miyeon, one of the artistic staff directors whom Taehyung knew his father either had an affair with or is currently having an affair with. He was just waiting for the perfect moment to bring this up. Just imagining the look of shock and terror on his father’s face was enough to make him want to laugh. That scandal could ruin both his father’s and Miyeon’s careers.

“Your father has requested for you to sit in on the Swan Lake auditions. He wants your input.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows rise in surprise. He and his father had a silent agreement that they would stay out of each other’s business because they both were not very fond of each other. Inviting Taehyung to play such an important role in the company was unheard of. They each had their designated roles in the company, and Taehyung’s did not involve any of the dancers. What was his father up to?

“Alright, I’ll head over,” Taehyung says with an easy smile. Not particularly interested in continuing the conversation with Miyeon, he turns sharply and heads toward the audition room.

The walk there takes him through one of the company’s longer hallways, lined with towering windows and endless studio doors. Through the glass, dancers stretch their bodies to impossible limits beneath the harsh studio lights. Others stand at the barre with bloodied toes beneath pale lights.

Taehyung has never understood dancers. Who willingly starved themselves? Tore apart their bodies for art? Practiced until their toenails fell off and their joints gave out? Masochists. Every last one of them.

He reaches the end of the hallway and sees at least fifteen dancers lined up outside of the door he was about to enter. Great, more masochists. Taehyung does a one-over of the group before stepping into the room. He saw no one of particular interest.

“Taehyung.”

“Father.”

There was high tension within the room. Two generations glaring at each other. If this was a comedy, Taehyung would have probably laughed.

Not wanting to delay this any longer, Taehyung walks over and sits on the metal chair next to his father, pulling out the clipboard from below with pages of each dancer that was about to walk in.

The next hour passes painfully slowly. Taehyung and his father sit side by side behind the judges’ table, their gazes tracking every dancer who enters the room. The tension is obvious. Most performers stumble the moment they notice who they’re dancing for.

Who wouldn’t panic dancing before both the head director and his son?

Taehyung scribbles occasional notes across his papers, though none of the dancers truly impressed him. A few possess potential. They had decent technique and good lines, but none of them felt right. Swan Lake demanded perfection, especially for the lead role.

The company’s rendition would be modernized and gender-swapped, meaning the male lead would need to embody both the White Swan and the Black Swan. They would need fragility and seduction, innocence and corruption. So far, Taehyung has seen neither.

“Next!”

A boy walks in with strong shoulders and steady posture. Confidence radiates from him in a way the others lacked.

Taehyung’s interest is immediately piqued.

The second the music begins, he’s hypnotized. The boy moves beautifully. Each step is sharp yet graceful, his body carrying an effortless fragility beneath the precision. There’s a softness in the way he extends his arms, but something sensual lurks beneath it too.

White Swan. Black Swan.

Innocence and temptation intertwined perfectly within one body.

Taehyung lowers his gaze to the paper in front of him and finally writes something worthwhile.

Jeon Jeongguk.

By the time the final dancer leaves, over two hours have passed. Taehyung glances at his watch before leaning back in his chair with a quiet sigh. Strange. His father had been unusually pleasant the entire afternoon. No criticism, no lectures, and no attempts at control, which only makes Taehyung more suspicious. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but Taehyung has never frightened easily.

He slowly turns toward his father, his expression darkening. “You know I found out about Miyeon, don’t you?”

Immediately, sweat begins perspiring along his father’s forehead. Taehyung almost smiles.

“I’m not sure what you mean, my sweet boy,” his father responds tensely. “I simply thought it would be nice to spend quality time together.”

Pathetic.

Taehyung lets out a soft laugh. “Cut the bullshit. Why else would you invite me here?” His eyes narrow.  “You thought giving me a position in the company would keep me quiet.” He leans forward slightly. “Well you thought wrong–”

A small knock echoes throughout the room. Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow. He thought they had already screened all the interested dancers.

“Come in!”

Taehyung had watched dozens of dancers that afternoon, yet the moment this one steps into the room, something shifts inside of him.

Jeongguk had impressed him, certainly, but this boy sparked something deep within him.

His frame was smaller than most of the other male dancers, yet he carried himself with a startling confidence. Every step looked delicate, careful, almost gently, as though he feared damaging the floor beneath him. And yet the proud lift of his chin suggested he wouldn’t hesitate to bite back if cornered.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” the boy blurts out quickly, bowing several times in apology. “The train got delayed. Please let me still audition! I promise I won’t disappoint you.”

“Park Jimin,” Taehyung’s father says smoothly.

Taehyung’s gaze flickers towards him briefly. So his father already knew the boy’s name. That alone was enough to spark Taehyung’s curiosity further.

“Please hand us your forms,” his father continues. “Then you may begin.”

Though not obvious, Taehyung catches a small smile form on the boy’s face. Jimin. Taehyung liked that name. It had a nice sound to it and would probably sound even better being both screamed and moaned. Wynorrific.

After hanging over the forms, Jimin moves into position as the music begins.

Jimin lacks the dark sensuality that Jeongguk had possessed, but somehow he’s even harder to look away from. His dancing pulls attention effortlessly, every movement overflowing with emotion.

Taehyung finds himself leaning forward slightly without realizing it.

Blond hair falls softly across Jimin’s forehead as he turns, dark eyes burning with an intensity far too sharp for someone who looked so delicate. Every line of his body flows beautifully through the choreography, elegant and controlled one second before unraveling almost desperately the next. His bone structure was magnificent, with toned thighs that Taehyung yearned to slice open.

Taehyung’s mind immediately begins creating images, or more specifically, paintings. Marble skin streaked scarlet beneath soft studio lighting. Pale wrists restrained elegantly against silk sheets. Those expressive eyes staring up at him with devotion or terror, perhaps both.

By the time the audition ends, Taehyung already knows he wants him.

Jimin bows politely once the music fades before leaving the room. The moment the door closes behind him, Taehyung feels an unfamiliar flicker of disappointment.

Silence settles across the audition room for only a second before Taehyung finally speaks. “I’ll do it.”

His father looks up immediately.

“If you let me help with Swan Lake,” Taehyung continues. “I’ll keep quiet about Miyeon.” For now, at least. In truth, Taehyung has no intention of letting that information go permanently. Secrets were far too useful to discard. But at this moment, he wants something else more. Or rather, someone else.

His father slowly smiles, relief practically melting across his face. It seems they had both gotten what they wanted after all.

–

In the hours following Jimin’s audition, Taehyung could not get the man out of his head. This yearning for the little swan was different from all the other victims that caught Taehyung’s eyes. With his previous prey, Taehyung imagined their deaths the minute he set eyes on them. However, with Jimin, he had yet to determine how he would earn his wings. Jimin was like a toy, waiting to be opened, and Taehyung was the one that wanted to play with him first.

“Get out,” Taehyung says flatly. The guards don’t ask questions when they leave. They never do.

The moment the door shuts behind them, the room feels quieter. Peaceful at last.

Taehyung rolls the chair closer to the CCTV monitors. There are too many feeds at once: studios, hallways, stairwells, empty rehearsal rooms. But he doesn’t need long. He finds Jimin immediately.

The boy is at the barre, stretching with his warmup gear on. His hair is slightly damp with sweat and his posture is already precise even in rest, as if his body couldn’t tolerate imperfection even when no one is watching.

Taehyung leans back in the chair, exhaling softly through his nose. There it is again–that pull in his chest. Familiar and pleasant. He sits there longer than he intends too. Some might call him a creep, but Taehyung prefers the word observer. 

The rehearsal lasts a few hours yet Taehyung’s eyes never leave Jimin. After observing Jimin for the past few hours, Taehyung has already noticed a few of his habits. The way he brushes his hair back every few minutes or how he loses control of his body whenever he laughs. 

Jimin seems to have a lot of friends. That part is predictable. What isn’t predictable is how close he stands to them. Jeongguk, especially.

Taehyung’s eyes linger a fraction longer on the way Jeongguk stays near him. The ease between them. The unconscious familiarity. The way Jimin doesn’t move away. Taehyung huffs. This was simply a small inconvenience, nothing more. It was just a little problem for Taehyung to fix in the future.

Rehearsal ends and people scatter. Jimin leaves with Jeongguk. Taehyung watches them pause to hug goodbye before splitting in opposite directions. Except Jimin doesn’t leave the building like Jeongguk does. He goes upward, to the elevator.

Taehyung’s fingers move before the thought finishes. Camera switch. Elevator feed. Then the hallway. Then–

The elevator stops on the administrative floor. Interesting.

Jimin hesitates for a second outside the door before he knocks and enters.

Taehyung switches the feed. His father’s office fills the screen. Clean and cold. Expensive in a way that tries too hard to look effortless. It was a small square room with a large window in the back, viewing the jungle of buildings within Seoul. The room had dark ebony floors with contrasting white walls. His father had awful taste.

Even through the screen, Taehyung can see it immediately–the stiffness in Jimin’s shoulders as he sits down on a chair opposite of Taehyung’s father. The way his hands don’t know where to rest, constantly fidgeting with each other.

His father speaks and Jimin responds a moment later.

Taehyung tilts his head slightly. Unfortunately, there was no microphone system with the CCTV, but Taehyung could read enough without sound. He could see the desperation and panic on Jimin’s face.

So he is breakable. That realization should feel disappointing, but it doesn’t.

Jimin stands suddenly and walks over to his father. Taehyung’s gaze sharpens, focus narrowing like a lens locking in. He pauses, posture shifting.

Jimin drops to his knees. Taehyung doesn’t react immediately. He just watches. His father remains still for a beat longer than necessary, contemplating something. Then his hands move towards the zipper on his pants.

Taehyung exhales once, slowly. That was enough for him. He changes the feed back to the hallway camera and leans back in his chair. He knew what was happening in the office right now. He was not an idiot. 

His jaw tightens once. Then relaxes. “Of course,” he murmurs quietly to himself, almost amused. “Of course you would try that.”

Taehyung did not expect Jimin to be someone who would do something so promiscuous. While Taehyung did not know the reason as to why Jimin would suck his father’s dick, he did have an idea. People like Jimin don’t come often. People that are willing to bend like that, who would do anything just to be successful. Taehyung’s dealt with ambitious people before. He recognizes it in its purest form and well, Jimin’s isn't just asking for a role. He’s asking to be kept alive by someone else’s attention.

Taehyung smiles faintly at the screen. Some people would call that pathetic. He doesn’t. He calls it usable. And Jimin, unknowingly, is already proving himself exceptional.

After about fifteen minutes, Taehyung sees Jimin leave his father’s office. He doesn’t move right away. He waits just long enough to not seem suspicious or overly eager before picking up his bag and heading over to the elevator.

The elevator feels slower than usual as Taehyung waits. It always does when he’s impatient. Taehyung taps his fingers once against the strap of his bag, eyes fixed on the glowing floor indicator. He hates this building’s elevators. Not because they’re inefficient, but because they don’t obey him.

The doors open, and there he is. Jimin. Standing too still, like he hasn’t decided what to do with his body yet. For a moment, neither of them speak.

Then Taehyung steps in, the doors sliding shut behind him. Taehyung tilts his head slightly, studying him.

“Park Jimin,” he says, like he’s testing how the name fits in his mouth.

Jimin looks… wrong. Not physically, but emotionally. His face is red and his lips are slightly swollen. His expression is carefully rebuilt, like someone tried to fix a cracked vase with trembling hands. There’s a wetness in his lashes that hasn’t fully dried. His hair is messier than before, but looks as if he was hurrying to pat it down to make it look presentable. There was no tricking Taehyung though. He knows exactly what happened in his father’s office. There was nothing that Jimin could do to hide that.

Jimin forces a smile. “Yes,” he says quickly. “That’s me.”

Taehyung hums softly, as if considering. “What a coincidence,” he says lightly. “Running into you like this.”

Jimin’s shoulders tighten a fraction. Taehyung continues anyway. “I remember your audition from earlier.”

That lands exactly where he expects it to. Jimin blinks a few times before brightening his expression, like something inside him snapped into place at the attention.

Taehyung watches the change carefully.

So that’s what you respond to. Praise. Recognition. Being seen.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Taehyung adds, almost absentmindedly. It’s not entirely a lie.

The elevator descends and the silence stretches.

Jimin’s smile lingers like it’s been glued on. “Th-thank you,” he says, bowing his head slightly. “I really worked hard for it.”

“I can tell,” Taehyung replies.

The elevator dings and the doors open. Taehyung steps out first before pausing just long enough to glance back. Jimin is still inside, watching him. Taehyung smiles, not too wide, but not too warm. Just enough to be remembered.

“I look forward to the results,” he says.

Then he leaves. The seed was planted. Taehyung has played this game many times before. He knew he was handsome and was going to use that to his advantage. He doesn’t call it manipulation, per se. That would be crude and predictable. This is simply an observation.

People reveal themselves in small, involuntary ways when they think something important is happening, and Taehyung observed Jimin doing exactly that. The way his expression shifted at praise like a door unlocking. He was someone that’s easy to influence and easy to shape.

Taehyung adjusts the strap of his bag as he walks. Pyotr lasted a week before he stopped being interested. Jimin won’t. Jimin would be different. He may be weaker, smaller, and more fragile, which could be boring, but he reacts well. And reaction is the beginning of art.

–

Taehyung’s little game with Jimin begins the second he returns home. Rather than spending his free time with a new toy or with something productive, Taehyung focuses on this new obsession of his: Jimin.

Being wealthy came with a lot of perks, one of them being access to information about people that were not available to the general public. Taehyung learns Jimin’s age, his address, his past relationships (surprisingly only two, one of which was a man twice Jimin’s age), his family, and his friends with only a few clicks of his mouse. Every little minute detail of Jimin’s was now his.

It was an enjoyable way to spend his evening, bundled up with blankets on his couch, a laptop sitting on his lap, and a black coffee next to him. A relaxing night at home. Taehyung knows that the majority of people would say this is the typical behavior of a stalker, but stalkers are worthless bastards that jerk off to their voyeuristic fantasies daily. Taehyung isn’t like that. He prefers the term predator. Not the pedophilic term, but the term used to describe an animal hunting those that they want to devour, and Taehyung wanted to devour Jimin.

Jimin is just like every other twenty-five-year-old ballerino. He’s painfully ordinary with a perfect little rhythm. He wakes up, goes to the same coffee shop in the mornings, then goes to rehearsals, and then returns home to sleep. Even his relationships are predictable. Jeongguk appears sometimes. They’re too close to his liking, probably due to their short-lasting relationship from university.

What frustrates him most is how little there is to see outside of it. Jimin lived like a hermit and had no digital footprint worth following. Just a boy who exists exactly where he is supposed to.

Taehyung glances at the clock. It was midnight. Not too late, but not early enough for people to be out and about. It was the perfect time for Taehyung to scope out Jimin’s apartment.

Grabbing his camera and putting on a thick fleece jacket, Taehyung heads out the door. If the address that Taehyung had found was correct, it would take about twenty minutes to drive to where Jimin lives. Ten if Taehyung was driving, which he was.

The roads of Seoul were as busy as ever. This did not come as a surprise to Taehyung. Today’s youth were always out partying in Itaewon. Fortunately, for Taehyung, Jimin lived in a quieter district. 

Taehyung slows down as he pulls up to a row of apartments. Luck seemed to be on his side today as there was an open parking spot on the side of the road. After pulling into the spot, Taehyung pulls on his baseball cap and begins scanning the second floor apartments in the area. That was another way that the stars aligned for Taehyung. Jimin lived on the second floor, the perfect floor for the predators of the community to eye their prey.

Taehyung soon finds Jimin’s apartment, one of the few with the lights on. Quickly, he walks to the opposite side of the road to get a better viewing angle. With the zoom-in feature of his high quality and very expensive camera, Taehyung is able to easily watch everything occurring within the apartment.

Jimin is currently on a couch, cuddling with Jeongguk as they watch what appears to be a rom-com movie. The two boys are giggling together, their bodies collapsing on one another. Taehyung does not like that one bit.

He has an idea of an easy way to fix this problem though. One that, unfortunately, does not involve death. After scouring the sidewalk leading up to the apartment complex, Taehyung spots two people. One is obviously drunk while the other helps keep them upright. Perfect. Taehyung checks the roads for cars and quickly walks across towards the couple.

“Let me help you with that,” Taehyung says with a charming smile, grabbing the other arm of the drunk person. If everything goes his way, this couple would be returning to the very apartment building that Jimin resides in.

With only a few close instances of the drunk female slipping out of the hands holding her up, the three turn into the apartment building Taehyung was hoping for. The other male enters the password into the keypad. Taehyung watches. 

After helping settle the two into their apartments, Taehyung says his goodbyes and takes the stairs down to the second floor. 2B. Jimin’s apartment. He has a small rug in front of the door. It’s light blue with English calligraphy for “Welcome” and is slightly worn around the edges. Very simple yet very Jimin.

Glancing around, Taehyung’s eyes narrow in on the fire alarm. Swiftly, he walks over to it. After double-checking that no one is around, Taehyung pulls the alarm and hides in the janitor's closet at the end of the hall.

In only a few seconds, Taehyung hears the panicked voices of the residents scrambling to get out of the building. His ears perk up when he hears the melodious tone of Jimin’s voice. Jimin’s apartment is now empty.

Once the hallway silences, Taehyung moves. He had a lot to do in only a short amount of time. Hastily, he unlocks Jimin’s door after a few attempts of different code ideas. Unfortunately, there was no time to admire the decorations. He had already studied the apartment's layout online so there were no means for delay. 

With a hint of urgency, Taehyung walks over to each corner of the apartment and installs a small camera with a microphone, much better quality than what was in the dance company building. Each room, including the bathroom, had at least two cameras with an attached microphone. Taehyung had double-checked and there was no blind spot within Jimin’s apartment. He was done in record time, and, luckily, he was out the door before he heard the confused murmurs of the residents walking back into the apartment.

Mission accomplished.

–

Taehyung does not get any sleep that night. Turns out, watching Jimin was more entertaining than the vile dreams he normally has during the night. The next day consists solely of Taehyung watching Jimin.

Jimin was a terrific actor. Taehyung had to applaud him for that. He was able to easily manipulate people into falling for him. Things just always seemed to go his way. Taehyung sees right through him though. As perfect as Jimin seemed, everyone had a flaw.

It was no surprise to Taehyung that he had become infatuated with Jimin as fast as he did. From the footage of the video cameras, Jimin aligned perfectly with Taehyung’s favorite word. Jimin was wynorrific. He seemed like a real-life prince on the outside, but Taehyung knew that there was a monster lurking beneath that pale flesh of his. Taehyung wants to unleash that monster.

Jimin was an attention-whore, desperate for everyone’s eyes to be on him and he would do whatever it took to get those eyes on him. Whether this was due to an insecurity of his or if it was just his personality, Taehyung had yet to figure that out. However, this newfound trait of Jimin’s unlocked a cavern of possibilities. The monster within him was scouring for the key, yet Jimin was intelligent, and he knew that releasing that monster could ruin everything that he had built up in his life.

Me

Hello, my little swan.

Taehyung stares intently at Jimin through the camera, eager to see his reaction. Just like he had expected, Jimin did not seem scared. If anything, the idea of a random stranger messaging him excited him. There was no one else in the apartment, no reason for Jimin to keep pretending. The thrill curling across his face exposed something rotten beneath the carefully crafted persona he showed to the world.

A normal person would be terrified if they had a stalker, but Jimin was someone that would get aroused by the idea of being stalked. Taehyung wouldn’t be surprised if Jimin started jerking off right now from the idea of someone watching him through the camera. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen.

To Taehyung’s dismay, Jimin does not respond. Taehyung had a feeling that would happen, not many people responded to unknown messages.

Throughout the next few days, Taehyung remains locked inside his room, surrounded by the glowing monitors and endless footage of Jimin. The messages continued, each one designed with precision. Taehyung did not want fear from Jimin, not yet at least. He wanted vulnerability. Dependence. He wanted to slowly pry apart every defense Jimin had until there was nothing left but something soft enough for Taehyung to mold however he pleased.

Me

I’ve heard the meat of a swan is tender and rich. I’m going to eat you, my little swan. I’m going to pluck your feathers one by one, fuck your raw body, and roast you over a fire.

Taehyung laughs at this message. He admits that it was a big jump between this message and his last message of “Are you not cold in those thin clothes of yours?”, but he could not resist sending this once he had thought of it. He had no intention of actually doing that to Jimin. Jimin deserved a death of higher quality. Plus, the flesh of humans was not a taste that Taehyung had grown fond of despite his many attempts at seasoning it.

Jimin had yet to read the message from Taehyung, which came as no surprise to Taehyung. He was currently cleaning his house, throwing dirty clothes into the hamper while also cooking a meal.

Though Jimin did not show it, Taehyung could see how these texts were beginning to affect him. The way his eyes glanced around during dance rehearsal, hoping to catch someone watching him, or how he would often “forget” to lock his apartment door. His reaction was not the typical behavior of the normal stalking victim, but Taehyung liked that about Jimin. It was almost as if Jimin was begging his stalker to break in and rape him while he was sleeping. Though as tempting as that sounds, Taehyung holds himself back. It was too soon for that.

At the sound of a knock through the microphone, Taehyung frowns. It was most likely Jeongguk and Taehyung did not like Jeongguk, not one bit. He was too close to Jimin.

Almost as quickly as he finished clearing the dirty dishes, Jimin rushes to excitedly open the door. It swings open, and the person on the other side is not Jeongguk. The man standing there is taller than Jimin, shoulders broad, hair slightly damp as if he’d come straight from an outdoor jog. He smiles immediately, dimples showing even through the camera feed flickering on Taehyung’s monitor.

Jimin brightens at once.

“Hi,” he says, like he’s been waiting all day to say it.

He steps forward, almost colliding into the man’s chest in a shy, awkward hug. The man laughs softly and returns it after a beat, one hand patting Jimin’s back as if he’s afraid to hold him too tightly.

Taehyung watches from the feed without blinking.

Jimin pulls back too quickly, cheeks faintly flushed, already moving into host mode. “Come in,” Jimin says, opening the door wide. “I made food.”

The man–Namjoon, as Taehyung had learned–steps inside carefully, glancing around the apartment. Jimin leads him to the small table beside the kitchen, fingers lightly wrapped around Namjoon’s wrist the entire time.

Taehyung’s jaw tightens at that.

Jimin is smiling, but there’s something different about it, something softer, less sharp than what Taehyung is used to.

“I cooked samgyeopsal,” Jimin says, a little sheepish now. “It’s not… fancy, but–”

“It smells good,” Namjoon interrupts quickly, sitting down.

Jimin relaxes immediately. Taehyung exhales a quiet laugh through his nose at that. How predictable.

Jimin begins setting out the food with careful hands. The side dishes are arranged neatly, rice bowls placed with almost ceremonial precision. He pushes one toward Namjoon first. Always accommodating. Always performing something.

Namjoon watches him for a second before speaking. “You didn’t have to do this all for me.”

Jimin pauses, just for a moment. Then he smiles again, a little too quickly. “I wanted to.”

Taehyung leans back slightly in his chair, eyes narrowing at the screen. There it is. That tone. That need to be seen doing something right.

Namjoon picks up his chopsticks. “You’ve been busy lately?”

“Mhm,” Jimin hums, already eating. “Preparing for an audition.”

“Ballet?”

Jimin nods enthusiastically. “Swan Lake.”

“That sounds intense,” Namjoon says.

“It is,” Jimin replies, then laughs softly like it’s funny. As if he didn’t suck the dick of a man twice his age to help his chances of getting the lead.

A silence settles for a moment, filled only by chopsticks tapping ceramic. Jimin keeps glancing at Namjoon between bites, like he’s comparing him to an invisible reference point.

Taehyung tilts his head slightly at the monitor. He already knows what Jimin is doing. He’s measuring and adjusting his behavior.

While dinner was uneventful, their date does begin to escalate afterward.

Jimin and Namjoon are currently sitting on a couch, watching a horror movie. Jimin is screaming like a child. It was all fake, but it did what Jimin wanted.

Taehyung laughs as he watches Jimin lean into Namjoon’s chest to hide from the scene playing on the screen. If Namjoon paid close enough attention, he would be able to tell that this fear was all fake. However, Namjoon seemed like he enjoyed being the alpha male for once. Taehyung would have to put him into his place soon enough. Seoul did not need another fraud walking around the city. Who knew what kind of naughtiness Namjoon might get into?

The movie is soon forgotten, at least it is for Jimin. Jimin is currently climbing onto Namjoon’s lap so that he could “hide” better. Another lie on Jimin’s side.

Once he’s sitting on Namjoon’s lap, Jimin might as well have turned off the movie. They’re soon kissing each other, with Jimin having no hint of that initial shyness. He was a man with a goal in mind, tugging onto Namjoon’s shirt like a starving animal, while Namjoon struggles to keep it slow. It reminds Taehyung of amateur pornos with awful actors. Two people with no chemistry whatsoever.

As expected, Namjoon and Jimin’s makeout session soon escalates to Jimin lying below Namjoon on the couch, their clothes tossed to random parts of the apartment, and their bodies hot with arousal. Namjoon was slow with stretching Jimin out, ensuring that Jimin was not in pain. He was the perfect date in that way, always making sure Jimin was ready for another finger and always paying close attention to Jimin’s reactions.

At the first thrust of Namjoon, Taehyung turns the feed off. He would give the two lovebirds their privacy for now. He had hunting plans tonight that needed preparation.

–

Taehyung stares down at his new victim with a hint of irritation. Kim Namjoon, the man that had just defiled his Jimin.

Taehyung was surprised with how seamlessly he had pulled off this abduction, given how little time went into the planning. Heck, he had no idea what he was even going to do with Namjoon yet. The only thing he knew was that Namjoon would be dead by the time the sun rose.

“Now what should I name you…” Taehyung pauses to think. This was always the most difficult part of creating art. “How about Achilles? The Trojan hero who died from just a measly arrow to the foot.” Taehyung’s eyes light up at the name, his mind sparking with an idea as to how to torture the man. 

Namjoon cries behind the gag as he thrashes in his restraints. His eyes are wide with fear. Taehyung wonders what was going through that big head of his. Namjoon probably just had the best fuck of his life yet here he is, about to be killed. Though Namjoon did not know that part yet.

“We’ll be done quickly,” Taehyung mumbles as he drags Namjoon by the hair, pulling him towards his restraint chair. This chair had been with him for as long as he could remember. When he first bought this chair, he constantly cleaned it, not wanting to dim the shine of the metal. However, the dried blood that now caked the chair brought a special sense of fear within all his victims that saw it. Taehyung loved it.

Taehyung does not plan on spending too much time on Namjoon. He was just a fly that needed some swatting. Humming softly to himself, Taehyung attaches the restraints to Namjoon’s arms and legs, making sure that there was ample room around the feet for him to complete his plans.

The first toenail has Namjoon gasping behind the gag. One by one, Taehyung pulls off each toenail. It was one of the less painful methods of torture, yet the mind games it played were one of Taehyung’s favorites. Each toenail builds up the fear of what was to come. Taehyung stares at Namjoon, watching his reactions intently. Each noise from Namjoon made his hatred towards the man rise. He touched what was HIS! HIS HIS HIS HIS!

“You dirty SCUM!” Taehyung roars as grabs a knife that was tossed on the ground during one of his earlier escapades, stabbing Namjoon’s thigh. “YOU TOUCHED WHAT WAS MINE!” Each stab was more gruesome than the last. “I am going to cut you up, break your bones, and ship each of your body parts to every. single. one. of your family members. Your dick will be FIRST,” Taehyung howls, stabbing the knife into Namjoon’s crotch.

Namjoon does not stay conscious for long. Taehyung normally would be disappointed by this. Hearing the screams of his victims always did provide good masturbation content. However, he had expected this, especially with the amount of blood Namjoon was losing. After cutting off Namjoon’s penetrated dick, Taehyung moves on to his Achilles heel, then his foot, and then his knees, slowly mutilating each part of Namjoon’s body. The basement was painted red. Taehyung is glad that he has his own maids. Cleaning this would be bothersome.

Unsurprisingly, Namjoon quickly dies from blood loss. Taehyung was able to get to Namjoon’s torso before he felt his heart stop beating. He was disappointed that he never got to the teeth with Namjoon still alive. Teeth pulling was always fun for Taehyung.

“Guess I’ll have to do it without you,” Taehyung utters as he continues his work. He was never one to back down on his promises and he did promise Namjoon that he would send his family some gifts. 

Soon enough, Namjoon’s body was dispersed within over fifty boxes, one for each tooth and each body part. As fulfilling as this was, Taehyung was still frustrated at the thought of Namjoon fucking Jimin. No one touched Jimin, but him. NO ONE. He had thought killing Namjoon would help release this frustration, but with the way his hands were trembling with rage, he was definitely not over it.

–

Taehyung’s first kill was his nanny, Lee Chaeyoung. Despite the fact that she was his first kill, she was also the last female that he killed. Girls whined too much.

“Taehyung, sweetie! It’s time to do your homework.”

Taehyung turns around and glares at his nanny. She keeps interrupting him during his playtime. 

“I don’t wanna,” Taehyung whines, throwing his Thor action figure to the other side of the room.

“Taehyung, you know your father would not like you throwing your toys,” Chaeyoung scolds. This was a daily routine for them, which always ended up in Taehyung giving in after a long temper tantrum. However, today would be different.

“If you play with me for a little, I’ll go do my homework,” Taehyung pouts with his puppy eyes. Who would turn down a cute ten-year-old boy like him? Definitely not his nanny.

As the two play together, Taehyung walks over to his trunk and grabs some of his toys. These were toys that his father did not know about. The Kim family lived in a large mansion on the outskirts of Daegu. It was relatively easy for Taehyung to slip around the large house unseen, which allowed him to easily take these toys, toys that his parents were none the wiser of.

“Childish,” Taehyung mumbles as he rolls his eyes. He couldn’t believe that his nanny was actually playing with his toy. Oh well, this kept her distracted. As she plays with his Black Widow figurine, Taehyung pours two cups of tea, making sure to stir Chaeyoung’s cup well so that the dust of the sleeping pill was not visible.

“Tea time!” Taehyung announces with a large smile before handing one of the cups to Chaeyoung. The two played with the marvel action figures as they drank their tea. Within half an hour, Chaeyoung was passed out on the ground.

As Chaeyoung slept, Taehyung grabbed his other toys: a knife and some tweezers. There were no surgeons in this house so he had to improvise. 

At the first vertical slice across Chaeyoung’s abdomen, a devilish smile forms on Taehyung’s face. The cut was not as precise as Taehyung would have liked, but it did the job. Setting the bloody knife to the side, Taehyung maneuvers his hands to the cut, pulling apart the skin. It took a lot of strength but he was dying to see what mysteries were inside the body. He had been studying the anatomy of humans for a while yet this was his first time seeing it in person.

This toy was more fun than any action figure that Taehyung had. It even put his Thor figurine to shame. Even though blood was getting everywhere, Taehyung’s attention was narrowed in on Chaeyoung and her intestines that were hanging between his fingers. As he had expected, they were slimy. Though he could not tell whether that was the natural texture of the intestine or if it was just the layer of blood around the intestine. 

Taehyung’s eyes widen in amazement as he pulls on the intestine. He was curious if it was as long as all the books he read said, and from the way he was able to circle it around Chaeyoung’s body multiple times, he would say the books were accurate. The carpet of his room was no longer the cream color that it had originally donned. Scarlet flowers had bloomed across the floor, creating what Taehyung liked to think of as his own garden. 

His next adventure was the heart. It was an amazing little thing, wasn’t it? Supposedly, that’s where love came from. Taehyung did not believe that for a second. Either all that was a lie, or his father did not have a heart. That did not make sense though, because wouldn’t he be dead? All Taehyung knew was that he heard a female moan in his parents’ bedroom when his mother was out of town. His father had no love for his mom.

The heart was difficult to remove. He had to make more incisions on the chest and use all the muscle in his small body to pull it out. However, once he did, he felt victorious. It was slimy just like the intestines. The heart was a bit bigger than his hand and was surprisingly light. As if it were a stress ball, Taehyung squeezed the heart, testing how much it could squeeze without breaking. It was like a game, a very bloody game.

His fun, unfortunately, did not last long.

“Taehyung, why aren’t you–” His father pauses as he stares down at the scene in front of him. There were no words to describe what he saw. It did not even resemble something a horror movie would have. His son was a monster.

“You interrupted my playtime!” Taehyung groans, dropping the deformed heart on the ground. It was fun while it lasted.

The house was quiet for the rest of the night, the rest of the week, and the month. Taehyung’s father had called cleaners to the house and paid a hefty sum for them to keep quiet. It did not take long for him to hire a new nanny. He also went ahead and hired a bodyguard. The bodyguard was more of a guard for the nanny than for Taehyung though.

“Taehyung, we need to talk.”

Taehyung looks up innocently at his father. Setting the Thor figurine to the side, Taehyung stands up and moves to sit on the bed next to his father.

“What is it, daddy?”

“You… What you did to your nanny was not right. You know that, right?”

Taehyung shrugged. He would argue that Chaeyoung deserved it. The bitch was stealing from his piggy bank.

“I’ve been thinking about what to do with you since the incident. I can either call the police on you or you can attend therapy. Your choice.”

Taehyung did not like either of those options. Fortunately, he had an ace up his sleeve.

“We could go to therapy together, daddy! You can talk about your marriage problems,” Taehyung giggles.

“I– what are you talking about?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and moves to play with his toys again. “Your lady friends are not that quiet when they visit. I don’t think mommy or the press would like that very much.”

A few minutes pass without a word from either side. Eventually, there was movement from Taehyung’s father. He walks over and squats down to Taehyung’s level.

“How about we make a deal, my sweet boy?”

Taehyung stares at his dad, his curiosity now peaked.

“If you don’t tell your mommy about those noises you keep hearing, you won’t have to go to the police or therapy! Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Taehyung nods in agreement.

–

The tension within the dance company was at an all-time high. Results for the Swan Lake parts were releasing tomorrow, which had everyone on edge. Even Taehyung’s father was stressed. Apparently choosing the correct person for the lead was more difficult than he thought, even with some bribery from a certain someone. Unlike everyone else, Taehyung was fine. He was relaxed and could care less about the results. His only focus was Jimin.

Throughout rehearsals that day, Taehyung had observed through the cameras that Jimin was glued to his phone today. It seemed that he was worried about something.

As if someone were reading his mind, Taehyung’s phone lights up with a notification from a news website. Intrigued, Taehyung looks down and reads the title of the article.

Missing Person Reported: Kim Namjoon, 26 years old.

Funny, Taehyung did not expect the pigs to catch on this fast. No wonder Jimin was latching onto his phone. His little date from last night was missing the day after they had gotten together. This could possibly put Jimin in a very tight spot with the police.

However, that could provide some entertainment for Taehyung. Of course, Taehyung would never let his little swan be detained though. Jimin did not belong in a stale room with men who would act out their fantasies on Jimin. Taehyung was the only one allowed to do that.

The doors of the rehearsal room suddenly open and in walks Taehyung’s father along with two police officers. Taehyung watches the scene play out in front of him. If only he had some popcorn. This was like a real-life movie scene.

The three men walk towards Jimin and exchange some words with him before walking out. Jimin quickly grabs his bag and follows them with a worried look on his face.

Taehyung changes the camera and follows where the four walk. Whatever was about to happen could have many outcomes and Taehyung had to ensure that the outcome would not end with Jimin’s arrest.

The conversation starts off calmly. Though Taehyung could not hear what they were talking about, he could tell that they were talking cordially. However, in only a few minutes, Jimin was bawling and looked as if he was about to hyperventilate. This situation would be stressful for any normal person, but Taehyung knows Jimin. Putting on this “weak” persona would only make the officers feel pity for him. Jimin would be looked at as a victim rather than a suspect. It was smart, Taehyung had to give him that. His little swan was not brainless after all.

Walking in a room with two police officers was not something that Taehyung wanted to do. He normally avoided having any unnecessary contact with the police given what his hobbies included, but seeing Jimin in this situation provided the perfect way for Taehyung to get close to his prey.

“Is everything okay?” Taehyung asks, causing the four others in the room to jump at the sudden intrusion.

The police eye him skeptically. It did not shock Taehyung that they had no idea who he was. If anything, this created more of an opportunity for him to use his authority, unlike his airhead of a father. 

One of the police officers begins walking towards him, “Sir, if you could please leave now before I have to escort you. Only the higher-ups are allowed in here.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. The “higher-ups.” That was such a distasteful word. Taehyung considered his father filthier than trash, and there was nothing “higher-up” about trash.

“That’s my father you’re talking to, and this is my dancer,” Taehyung gestures to Jimin before continuing. “It seems as if you’re blind and have forgotten all necessary protocols. You’re providing unnecessary stress to one of our best dancers and have probably not even offered a lawyer for him. It does not look like Jimin’s in the right headspace to be answering whatever questions you’re asking. Leave before he decides to sue you for emotional distress.” Taehyung ends, smiling sweetly.

Unlike his smile, his eyes were glaring daggers into the police. The two officers quickly apologize before rushing out of the door, leaving Jimin alone with Taehyung and his father. It was a bit nostalgic for Taehyung. Being alone with Jimin and his father was how he met Jimin after all, and here he was, about to grow closer.

Just like the police officers, Jimin begins bowing profusely, apologizing for causing such a commotion in the company. Taehyung’s father seemed annoyed, but Taehyung could care less. The company needed some commotion. It was getting boring.

After chastising Jimin for causing a stir, Taehyung’s father leaves the two of them alone, grumbling some not-so-pleasant words under his breath. Perfect.

“Jimin? Is there something I should know about that could jeopardize the company?” Taehyung asks, knowing it was a seemingly innocent question that would get Jimin to open up.

Jimin takes a deep breath and wipes his tears away. “My boy– my partner that I had a date with last night went missing. I guess the police wanted to see if I had anything to do with it. I promise I didn’t though! I swear it was just a coincidence.” Jimin rushes out an assortment of promises of him not being a kidnapper or murderer. Taehyung wanted to laugh so badly. Little did Jimin know that this was all Taehyung’s doing.

“Wow,” Taehyung shakes his head, acting worried for the other. “This has probably been extremely stressful for you, knowing that someone out there abducted someone so close to you. Who knows, it could have been you.”

Jimin nods his head, tears pouring out of his eyes. “It definitely could have,” he cries. “I’ve been receiving these texts… they’re really weird texts and it makes me think… What if the person behind these messages took Namjoon? What if I’m next?”

If Taehyung hadn’t been watching Jimin for the past few days, he would have believed Jimin’s little “worried” act. However, Taehyung knows Jimin better than Jimin thought. Jimin probably was hoping he was next. His little swan loved the attention. Having a stalker was probably a dream come true.

“Don’t say that,” Taehyung comforts, wrapping one of his arms around Jimin’s shoulders. “I’m sure that whoever took Namjoon will be caught and hopefully the person behind those messages will also be caught.” All lies. Taehyung was never going to be caught. He would be in another country by the time the police got a lead on him.

“This might be a bit unprofessional of me, but do you want to go to dinner with me after your rehearsals? You seem stressed and could probably use something to take your mind off of everything,” Taehyung proposes, praying that Jimin takes up his offer.

Jimin nods his head earnestly, “I would love to.”

–

Taehyung waits in his car outside of the company building, counting down the minutes until rehearsal finishes. He already made reservations for two at the restaurant, all he needed was the other body.

As Jimin walks out, Taehyung smiles brightly and walks around the car to open the door. His mother would have complimented him on being a gentleman. Too bad the bitch was dead.

Jimin smiles softly at Taehyung’s kind gesture and gets into the car. The car ride to the restaurant was a bit awkward, to say the least. Taehyung hums softly as he drives while Jimin stares out the window. No words were exchanged except for the greetings once they were both in the car.

Taehyung smirks at Jimin’s widened eyes when he pulls into the parking lot of the nearest Michelin Star restaurant. It was an American-style restaurant, known for its Filet Mignons. The parking lot was packed, but fortunately, the restaurant did valet parking. Taehyung was not trying to impress Jimin, he already did that simply by being the director’s son. Taking Jimin to this restaurant was just another way to grow closer to Jimin, and make him more comfortable.

“This restaurant looks amazing,” Jimin says in awe as he stares at the grand building in front of him. While the menu was inspired by American restaurants, the exterior was definitely similar to the architecture of buildings in France. The building stands out from all the other buildings in Seoul with its white columns and gold accents. Many wished that they could afford to order just an appetizer here.

Thanks to Taehyung’s reservation, the two are able to bypass the line and are immediately seated in a private room, a perk of Taehyung being a frequent customer. Jimin does a good job of acting like he is used to luxury. Taehyung knows he grew up in a lower-class family, barely being able to afford his ballet classes. Going to a restaurant like this was probably a first for Jimin, but he acts as if this was a normal Friday outing. Taehyung finds it amusing how much Jimin acted, never showing his true colors to anyone.

“I hope you like steak. They serve the best Filets in all of Seoul,” Taehyung says, breaking the silence of them looking at the menu.

“Steak is one of my favorite foods,” Jimin replies enthusiastically, though Taehyung could tell he was confused by the menu. It was in English after all.

“Are you two ready to order?” The waiter asks, announcing his arrival.

Taehyung looks at Jimin for his approval. “Yes, we are,” he replies after getting a nod of approval.

“I’ll have the Filet Mignon, with a loaded baked potato on the side. Oh, and can we get a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon?.”

Taehyed turns to look at Jimin expectantly, who still has his eyes fixated on the menu. “Jimin? It’s your turn,” Taehyung says, catching the attention of the other boy.

“O-oh! I’ll get what he ordered please.”

The waiter writes down the orders. “Anything else?”

“That’s all for now,” Taehyung replies, wanting the waiter to leave them alone.

The waiter nods and turns around, heading to the kitchen to place the orders, leaving Jimin and Taehyung alone in the private room once again.

“So, how are you doing? You know, with everything that’s been happening recently. I’m sure you’ve been extremely stressed,” Taehyung begins, trying to avoid any awkwardness between the two.

Jimin jumps at the sudden comment, most likely not expecting a lot of conversation. “Oh yes, it’s been extremely stressful. I’m not sure why anyone would want to stalk me. I’m just… me.”

Taehyung laughs at Jimin’s response. Jimin was definitely trying to get Taehyung to compliment him as a retort. Unfortunately for Jimin, Taehyung was not easily baited.

“Knowing that you’re being stalked must be a terrifying thought. They could be,” Taehyung leans in closer to Jimin and whispers, “watching us right now.”

Jimin smiles meekly, “It’s hard. Not feeling safe in my own apartment.”

Taehyung nods understandingly, though he knew Jimin was lying. If he was truly scared about a stalker, he would have definitely taken more safety precautions instead of leaving his doors unlocked. He was practically inviting his stalker to waltz in.

“If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. I know it may be intimidating talking to the director’s son, but I’m human just like you,” Taehyung replies, smiling sweetly at Jimin. They were both playing a game with each other, wanting the other wrapped around their fingers. Luckily, they both had a common goal, to get close to each other.

“Enough about your worries. Let’s make our dinner a little more lighthearted,” Taehyung grins, “So, what are your opinions on mint chocolate chip ice cream?”

Jimin laughs at the question, not expecting such a casual conversation with the director’s son.

The waiter soon arrives with the wine, pouring it into the glasses in front of the two of them. “Your food will be out shortly.”

Taehyung takes a sip out of his glass. He always loved the taste of expensive wine. “I hope wine is fine with you. I’m a big wine drinker myself,” Taehyung comments after seeing Jimin eye the red liquid in front of him.

“Oh, yeah, I haven’t had any proper alcohol in a while,” Jimin laughs. “I don’t particularly enjoy being hungover at rehearsals.”

Taehyung chuckles in response. He had seen a few dancers come in looking like they had just drank to their heart’s content and his father was not happy with them. It was no wonder Jimin was a favorite. He had everything Taehyung’s father liked in a dancer.

As the waiter had said, their food did not take long to arrive. 

“Here you go,” the waiter says as he places the plates on the table.

Jimin immediately grabs the steak knife and begins to dig in. It was obvious that he had never had a steak like this. Taehyung finds it endearing. The boy tried so hard to seem like he had seen it all, yet here he was, chowing down on his steak like he had not eaten a proper meal in days. With all things considered, that could very much be the case. The diet of a ballet dancer was not known to be the most nourishing, most likely consisting of salads and cocaine.

Taehyung sighs to himself as he takes the first bite of his own steak. Steak was one of his favorite foods. A nice medium-done steak, the tender meat still red with juices flowing out of each cut. It was delicious. Jimin would probably also be tender, Taehyung thinks to himself. Those thick muscles of his, guarded by a soft layer of flesh. He would definitely be chewy, that’s for sure.

The rest of dinner slips easily into conversation, laughter, and more wine than either of them should have had. By the time their plates are clear, Taehyung is slightly tipsy and Jimin is unmistakably drunk.

Taehyung watches him carefully over the rim of his glass. Jimin’s shoulders had loosened at some point without him noticing. His words come easier now, less careful, less guarded. It wasn’t just the alcohol though. Taehyung had been careful about that. The conversations had purposely been light, their tone warm and deliberately ordinary. As if Taehyung were not a director or superior. Just someone sitting across from him.

It works exactly as intended. People always respond better when they forget where they stand.

“T-Tae– what did you say about that time in university,” Jimin slurs, words spilling out unevenly as he leans forward like the memory is sitting just out of reach. 

Taehyung studies him for a moment, amusement flickering in his eyes. “I think it’s time to take you home,” he says lightly.

Jimin frowns, staring into his empty wine glass like it might answer him if he waits long enough.

Taehyung gives a soft laugh, then signals the waiter. “Check, please.”

After signing the check, Taehyung walks over to Jimin and lifts him up from the chair, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. It was reminiscent of the couple that Taehyung had helped when he had first entered Jimin’s apartment.

“Let’s get you back to your apartment,” Taehyung mumbles, walking along with Jimin back to the valet so that they could get his car. To any bystander, Jimin probably looks insane by the way he giggles at everything Taehyung says. Jimin was definitely going to have a headache tomorrow.

Fortunately for Taehyung, Jimin is too drunk to question how Taehyung knows his address and how he knows the code to enter his apartment. It would probably have raised some suspicion with how Taehyung walks around the apartment with ease, already knowing the layout.

After taking off Jimin’s shoes and sweaty clothes, Taehyung lays him on the bed and grabs a trashcan to place next to the bed. With how much wine Jimin drank, Taehyung is sure he would be needing it in the morning.

“Tae, I don’t feel so good–” Jimin groans before leaning into the trashcan that was placed a moment prior, puking out what was left of the Filet. Once again, Taehyung was right.

“Well, there goes your dinner,” Taehyung grumbles, staring at the putrid liquid in the bucket. For someone who mutilated people as a hobby, he had never grown accustomed to vomit. It looks and smells disgusting.

Only a few minutes after puking up his expensive dinner, Jimin passes out, snoring softly against the fabric of his pillow. Taehyung’s little swan looks so precious in his sleep. So fragile and unaware of anything going on. Taehyung could easily kill him right now, smothering the pillow against Jimin’s face as he gasps for air.

“Sleep well, my little swan,” Taehyung whispers, softly kissing Jimin’s cheek before he steps away.

–

Wynorrific.

That has been Taehyung’s favorite word ever since he learned its meaning. It described many aspects of Taehyung’s life and was one of the few words that perfectly describes the artwork that Taehyung is currently working on.

Wynorrific.

Jimin would most definitely be his most wynorrific masterpiece yet.