Chapter Text
Repressed desires often led to treachery. That was where Seongjun found himself—at the crossroad between adoration and obsession. All because he couldn’t admit he had fallen for a poor, unremarkable boy. Ever since Park Gyujin walked into his life, something shifted inside of him. Something he had never felt before.
A need to have.
Have what? He wasn’t sure. He just wanted the boy to notice him—to notice no one else but him. He could’ve befriended him, which, retrospectively, would’ve been the best option, but Seongjun didn’t want a mere friendship. Friendships were flimsy and far from intimate. Being a shadow by Gyujin’s side wasn’t enough.
He wanted the boy wholly to himself.
And it was exactly that greed that pushed him to use cruelty. If Gyujin didn’t naturally look his way, then he’d force the boy’s head toward him. If love was never meant to bloom between them, then he’d tie the boy to him with fear instead. That was Seongjun’s philosophy.
That was his justification as he stole the boy’s medicine from his backpack—a petty revenge for trying to avoid him this week. Seongjun smirked as he slid the small bottle of pills into his own bag. Just then, the bell rang, signaling the start of their last period. A swarm of students spilled into the room like cockroaches, their faces boring and unmemorable. Frankly, he didn’t care about anyone else but Gyujin. Even his minions held no importance to him; they were at best a tolerable distraction from his aching heart and at worst a headache.
Seongjun sat back with sly satisfaction as Gyujin shyly walked to his seat. One thing he had noticed about the boy that annoyed him greatly was how he tried to make himself invisible in front of others. It was like watching a little doe trying to distance itself from the herd. How could he, the starving wolf, resist such an open invitation to feast?
Slowly, the boy’s usual demeanor turned into panic. His hands trembled as they rummaged through his backpack. Again and again, they searched for something but to no avail.
Seongjun snickered at the sight. “What are you looking for, Fuck-gyu?” he asked.
Immediately, the boy turned back to look at him. “Seongjun.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “Did you take my pills?”
“And if I did?”
“C-Can I have it back please? I-I can’t miss a dosage.”
Seongjun rolled his eyes. You say you need it, but you’re not even acting mad. “Are you gonna die?”
“No, but—”
“Too bad. But I don’t wanna give it back.”
The boy frowned. “Please, they’re important medication.”
“If you need it so bad, then why don’t you gimme something in return?”
“I…I don’t have any money.”
I don’t need your money, he wanted to say, but that would’ve been too direct. A sick part of him wanted to leave the boy with no other option besides complete surrender. Only then would he never leave him (since there would be no escape).
“Seongjun…”
“What about those pictures I told you to get?”
“Th-that’s illegal…” Gyujin’s gaze fell to the ground as he fiddled with the ends of his sleeves.
“I guess you don’t want your meds that badly,” Seongjun remarked. He knew his tactics were extreme, but how else was he supposed to lure the boy to him? In truth, he had no use for sneaky under-the-skirt pictures. Such things repulsed him. They were a means to an end, nothing more.
“Please,” the boy mumbled, his eyes reddened with tears.
Seongjun gritted his teeth, trying his best to hold himself back from pulling the boy into his arms. Such a precious expression—he didn’t want anyone else to see it. “Meet me at the karaoke bar tonight,” he said flatly. “Don’t be late.”
With that, Gyujin nodded, looking defeated as he sat back down in his seat.
You’re mine. Why can’t you see?
- - -
The karaoke lounge was covered in a miasma of nicotine and alcohol. Seongjun disliked the dingy walls and ear-bleedingly loud music, but it felt more tolerable than the monotonous sterility of his apartment. Each second that ticked by felt like hours as he tapped his fingers in anticipation for Gyujin.
He wanted to torment the boy as much as he wanted to kiss him. How much longer was he supposed to wait?
“Hey, Seongjun, how much longer are we gonna bully that loser?” Sangtae asked before tossing a cigarette butt toward the tray and missing.
The sheer stupidity of the question irked him. “For as long as I feel like it,” he stated with absolute authority.
“He’s so easy to beat up. It’s not even fun anymore,” Yuseok said. The bastard was nothing more than a leech sucking up to the powerful. Who was he to say anything?
Seongjun tutted in annoyance before grabbing a drink.
“Haha, don’t get all twisted from what we said. It’s just a joke,” Sangtae added, obviously trying to put a band-aid on the mood.
“Shut up,” he gritted. Who were these lowlives to call Gyujin boring? The boy was anything but. Seongjun had seen it: the pink-tinted cheeks and slightly chewed-up lips. The boy was beautiful—not the in-your-face type of beautiful but the subtle type that most people would overlook. He was beautiful in the way he stuttered between sentences when nervous and held his breath when scared. He was beautiful in the tears that he shed and the purple bruises that bloomed on his skin like irises in the summer.
Seongjun gulped as he realized that the alcohol in his system was not responsible for his flushed appearance. When will you come? he wondered.
The clock struck seven.
Before he could dial the boy’s number in blind rage, the door of the karaoke room swung open with great force.
Finally, he thought. Gyujin had arrived. However, he instantly noticed something was off about the boy.
“Fuck-gyu! You’re here!” Sangtae sneered. “Bout time! We’re running outta booze!”
The boy blinked, seemingly a bit confused.
“Yah! Is your hearing going to shit too? I said, ‘Get us some booze!’”
“You talking to me?” the boy asked, pointing at himself.
Seongjun frowned at the scene playing out before him. Something was wrong. He could feel it. However, he wanted to observe the boy a bit longer before deciding on a course of action.
“Have you gone insane, Fuck-gyu?” Sangtae was seething. It seemed to take very little to rile him up—a clear indication of a coward scared to lose what little authority he had.
“That's not my name,” Gyujin said. “Also, you should be a little more polite when asking for a favor.”
“You—”
Yuseok, seeing his friend irate, quickly stepped in. “Seems like you finally grew some balls.” An ugly grin crossed his face as he shoved the boy against the door. “Too bad you're still a loser.”
Gyujin said nothing, but it wasn't his usual fearful silence. Instead, he skillfully broke free of the brute’s grasp before elbowing him in the jaw. The room went quiet as Yuseok fell to the floor.
“You fucker!” Sangtae’s anger turned physical as he wound back his fist. However, Gyujin was able to dodge him before the blow could land, resulting in an uncomfortable crunch as he punched the plaster.
“You missed,” Gyujin remarked, his tone unusually humorous.
Seongjun took another swig of his soju as his minions winced in pain. How strange. The fragile little boy whom he meticulously broke down was now fighting back like a seasoned delinquent. Did an alien replace him? Was this person actually a long-lost twin who was out for revenge? The possibilities were endless, but none of them sounded quite right.
“You fucking loser!” Sangtae swung again but missed just as pathetically as the first time.
Gyujin, noticing an opening, kicked the brute to the ground before pouncing on him. There was a frightening gleam in his eyes as he brought his fists down, delivering a barrage of powerful blows to the body beneath him.
By now, all of the girls (whom Yuseok and Sangtae had brought without Seongjun’s permission) had cleared out of the dingy room. The music had died down completely, leaving only the sound of Gyujin huffing.
Seongjun continued to watch the one-sided beatdown without interrupting. An unexpected side of the boy had come out, and he felt like he was falling in love all over again.
“Th-this is assault!” Sangtae shouted as the punches slowed.
“So?” Gyujin cocked his head. “Am I supposed to care?”
“Y-you'll go to jail, you bastard!”
“Yeah? Jail sounds fun. But I don't want to get charged for assault. I want to get charged for murder.”
“You psycho!”
“Enough!” Seongjun shouted. “Everyone except Fuck-gyu, out!”
Yuseok, who had long given up on fighting, ran for the exit without looking back.
“I’ll remember this!” Sangtae screamed as he limped away.
Finally, Seongjun thought, it’s just us.
An awkward silence stretched between them as they stared into each other’s eyes. Then, Gyujin began to move toward him. The boy carried himself differently—with the sort of self-assurance rarely found in teenagers. His gait was precise, and, without a moment’s hesitation, he invited himself to the L-shaped couch, grabbing a beer off the table before reclining against the cushions.
The sight awakened a memory in Seongjun’s mind.
‘Drink it,’ he demanded, forcing the soju bottle between the boy’s lips.
‘No, please!’ Gyujin cried as if the alcohol were poison.
It was clear to him that this Gyujin was completely different. How? Why? He didn’t know. All Seongjun knew was that he wanted the boy’s attention all the same.
“Say, Seongjun, how come you’re so obsessed with me?” Gyujin’s question broke the silence. “Do you like me or something?”
For a moment, Seongjun was taken aback. How was the boy able to see through him like he was made of glass? Was this person really Gyujin? Was this the same Gyujin who could never look people in the eye or finish a sentence without stuttering?
“Haha. I’m right, aren’t I? You got a crush on me!”
He gulped, feeling like there was no proper reply.
“That’s okay.” Gyujin smiled playfully. “I find it cute that you did all this to get my attention. But now that you have it, are you prepared for what’s next?”
The boy inched closer to him until their thighs touched. The proximity was something Seongjun had always fantasized about but never expected to receive.
“How much do you like me?” the boy asked him, eyes bright with anticipation.
There was an urge to move away—to deny the allegations—but he shoved it down. That would be an admission that he wasn’t in control. Instead, Seongjun calmed himself. “Why?”
“Well, no one’s ever liked me before, and I realize that being liked feels good. So, tell me, how much do you like me?”
He smirked, feeling an opportunity. “Why don’t I show you instead?” Before the boy could react, he pulled him onto his lap.
The normal Gyujin would’ve never allowed this. The normal Gyujin would’ve squirmed and resisted and cried. But this Gyujin was anything but opposed to their closeness. He simply giggled, as if playing coy, before adjusting himself accordingly. Seongjun didn’t know what caused this change, but he would be lying if he said he disliked it.
“You didn’t even take me to dinner first,” the boy whispered—a teasing slight. “But I’ll forgive you just this once.”
“I don’t need your forgiveness,” Seongjun countered. “Just because you got a little confident doesn’t mean you can boss me around.”
“Oo, I’m so scared.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
Since when was Gyujin this bratty? he wondered. “Fine, but don’t blame me if you cry.”
The boy didn’t look intimidated or frightened. If anything, he looked thrilled. Seongjun couldn’t tell if he was dreaming or not. Gyujin has never desired him before. Their interactions were never overtly intimate. They were never even friends.
Was this whole thing a charade? Was he being fooled? Was Gyujin a prodigious actor? And if he was, then which Gyujin was real and which was an act?
“Don’t think too much,” the boy said before grinding on him. “Let’s just have fun.”
Seongjun moaned at the friction. “F-fuck.”
“Kiss me,” Gyujin ordered.
A lament sat on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it, opting to simply comply. This was, after all, what he wanted the most. He wanted Gyujin, and he wanted Gyujin to want him just the same.
The boy panted slightly as he parted their lips. “Seongjun,” he whined, his previous boldness turning into impatience. “Take my clothes off.”
“You didn’t need to ask,” Seongjun remarked. His hands moved on their own, gripping and stretching the thick cotton hoodie over the boy’s head. Underneath the layers of fabric hid a bewitching body. Gyujin’s skin was soft to the touch, and his silhouette was, for lack of a better word, simply perfect. A few ugly bruises lined his stomach, but, to Seongjun, they were evidence that this Gyujin was indeed his Gyujin.
Suddenly, the boy escaped from his firm grasp. “You’re taking all day, dammit!” A pair of faded denims dropped to the floor and then soaked briefs.
Seongjun snickered before also undoing his pants. Then, without warning, he pulled the boy to his lap once more. “So desperate,” he sneered. “You’re a real whore, aren’t you?”
Gyujin laughed, knowingly rubbing their bodies together. “For your information, I’m a virgin.”
“A very enthusiastic virgin.”
“You got me. Now don’t ruin my first time.”
They wasted no time returning to their previous groove, kissing with fervor and grasping each other’s hair. Their passion was tangible, and their voices were loud. Neither of them seemed to care much about the other patrons probably listening from the adjacent rooms. If anything, it felt exhilarating.
“Fuck me,” the boy demanded between breaths.
Seongjun chuckled. “So needy, baby.”
“I made sure to wash up thoroughly for you,” Gyujin teased.
Excitement whirled in his stomach. “Suck.” He lifted his fingers to the boy's lips. “I don't have lube on me, so this is all you'll get.”
As expected, the boy was more than eager to coat his digits with saliva. It seemed like he enjoyed the act almost too much.
“Naughty boy.” Seongjun gently pulled his hand away, earning him a disapproving whine. However, he paid the brattiness no mind as he reached between the boy’s succulent thighs.
“Oh hyung,” Gyujin cried feverishly. His body welcomed the intrusion, like it had waited a long time for it.
Seongjun listened to the boy’s sugary voice as he thrusted his fingers rigorously. He made sure to remember every inch of the boy’s body, both inside and out.
“N-not enough,” his greedy angel complained. “Need more, hyung.”
“Ask nicely then,” he teased.
“M-meanie.”
“I don't hear a ‘please.’”
“P-please, hyung, w-want your cock.”
“What's that? Say it again.”
“Pretty please with sprinkles on top?” The boy pouted. “I know you want this too, hyung. Now put that dick to use.”
“Brat.” Nevertheless, he had no choice but to obey. After all, his body was also aching for this. Gyujin was the serpent tempting him to eat the forbidden fruit, and like the sinner he was, he took a bite without hesitation.
“Hyung!” A subtle demand.
Seongjun kissed the boy as he withdrew his fingers. Then, as gently as he could, he replaced it with his throbbing hardness, relishing in the tight squeeze of the boy’s flesh.
“You’re packing, hyung,” Gyujin murmured against his ear.
The comment only fueled his insatiable appetite. He began to thrust wildly, chasing his own pleasure.
“H-hyung!” The boy’s hips joined his rhythm.
The sensation was overwhelming. It wasn't like this was his first time having sex. He had done it before, mostly with girls who looked like Gyujin and a couple of guys too. However, nothing compared to this. Just being able to witness the real Gyujin, ears flushed and eyes rolled back, making the most of this compromising position was enough for Seongjun to die happy. Not to mention, this was the boy's first. The boy had given him his first time—he had trusted him.
Seongjun’s heart welled with pride and adoration.
If he had known Gyujin felt the same way, he wouldn't have done all those regrettable things. He would've cherished the boy like a treasure. He would've even given him the world if he wanted.
“F-fuck. F-feels so good, hyung,” Gyujin moaned.
He thrusted harder in response, deliberately re-stimulating the boy’s prostate.
“Oh fuck.”
Seongjun connected their lips once again, unable to get enough of the boy’s taste. He wondered if Gyujin knew how much power he had over him. Perhaps the whole bullying had been a facade to hide his weakness. Perhaps Seongjun wanted control over the boy so badly because he knew how fragile it was—that, at any moment, he’d be the one at the boy’s mercy.
Whatever the case, it was clear to him that he’d never feel this way about anyone else.
“H-hyung, I’m cumming.” Gyujin gripped onto him like a lifeline, back arched and toes curled. Soon, white smeared across both their abdomens.
Seongjun groaned as he felt his own climax approaching. This whole time, they hadn’t even thought of jogging to the convenient store across the street and buying some condoms. Oh, well. He doubted that the boy would mind.
Gyujin still wrapped around him like a vice, as if trying to squeeze out every ounce of his soul. Seongjun lightly slumped forward as he finished, feeling utterly boneless.
The karaoke lounge owner would not be happy about the condition of this room, but that was the furthest thing from his mind.
“It’s been a while since I’ve felt so…alive,” the boy muttered.
Seongjun hummed, too exhausted to think.
Eventually, Gyujin wiggled out of his hold and stood up. Despite the evidence of their tomfoolery seeping down his thighs, he remained unfazed and began to dress himself.
“Are you leaving?” Seongjun asked. The question sounded pathetic, but he didn’t care.
“Well, yeah,” the boy replied bluntly. “Mom made crispy pork belly.”
“I see.” He wanted the boy to stay, but there were no more excuses to keep him there.
“Why? You wanna come over?”
Seongjun widened his eyes in surprise. In the past, Gyujin would have never extended such an invitation to him. They weren’t friends, and he had used the boy’s mother as ammunition against him more times than he could count. Moreover, he recalled Gyujin disliking pork. What had caused such a dramatic shift in the boy’s personality?
“What? You can’t eat peasant food?”
“Who said that?”
Despite his hesitance, he found himself following the boy like a little duckling.
“Oh yeah.” Remembering the whole purpose of their encounter, Seongjun pulled out a bottle of pills from his backpack. “You came for these.”
Gyujin smiled before grabbing them. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, whatever. I stole them from you after all.”
“Oh, you’re a druggie?”
“What? No!” He huffed as heat rushed to his face.
The boy giggled. “Just kidding. These are pretty strong. I doubt you’d be able to handle them.”
“What are they for? Like anxiety or something?”
“Close. They’re for my split personality.”
“Oh, okay—wait, what?” Seongjun halted in his steps. A chill ran down his spine as everything finally clicked. What have I done?
Gyujin only smiled wider—an ominous smile. Then, he tossed the bottle he had so desperately tried to get back straight into a nearby trash can. “I won’t be needing those anymore. I feel so much better now.”
Seongjun froze as the boy stepped closer, eventually intertwining their fingers.
“C’mon, Mom won’t be happy if I’m late for dinner.”
“Y-yeah.”
What would become of the kind, pliant Park Gyujin, he wondered. For a moment, guilt gnawed at his heart, but, as quickly as the thought came, it vanished.
In the quiet serenity of the night, this new Gyujin held his hand like they were meant to be. Seongjun understood then that he was destined to love Gyujin and every version that followed.
FIN