Wish I may, wish I might/Find my one true love tonight./Do you think that he could be you?/If I pray, really tight/Get into a fake bar fight,/                                 While I’m walking down the avenue./If I lay, really quiet/I know that what I do isn’t right,/I can’t stop what I love to do./So I murder love, in the night,/                 Watching them fall one by one they fight,/Do you think you’ll love me too?

Jihun and Donghyeon were throwing punches, stumbling into barstools, and swearing like sailors. The bartender was looking on passively, swiping a filthy dishrag around a mug. She had sighed when they bumped into a longtime patron, Minho, who had immediately risen from his seat and joined in the knockdown, drag-out fight. Minho always loved a good brawl.

Daesung had stepped back to admire his work. He was starting to get bored right around when Donghyeon had accidentally jostled Minho. It seemed like every other weekend he was starting wars over himself, but the thrill was wearing off. Worse, it was draining him. He felt dissatisfied and restless, but he didn’t know what else to do with his time.

And that is when the stranger came on the scene. The saloon-style doors slammed open and a tall silhouette filled the opening. Daesung didn’t bother looking up, assuming it was a regular. No one new ever came to this bar except for the silly men he invited from neighboring towns, he often scoffed; the townspeople knew to stay away as it was frequented by homouals and other degenerates. He imagined that was why the bartender and owner, Park Bom, couldn’t afford to kick his troublemaking out.

His hair slicked back and his eyes keen as a hawk’s, the young man appeared unsurprised by the chaos before him. His belt buckle glimmered and the spurs on his cowboy boots jangled when he walked. His Stetson was cocked back so far on his head that it looked like it would fall off at any moment. Those sharp eyes locked onto the brunette with the hair parted down the middle, frowning in concentration as he examined his cuticles. He strode right over and extended his hand.

“Name’s Seunghyun,” he said. His voice rumbled like thunder.  

Daesung looked up slowly.

“And why would I care to know that?”

Their eyes locked. Seunghyun smirked, and Daesung cursed internally. Something in his eyes must have given him away.

“So you know whose name you’ll be screaming tonight.”

“Cocky little , aren’t you?”

“I am many things, angel, but ‘little’ certainly isn’t one of them.”

Before Daesung could protest or, more likely, speak without speaking, Seunghyun leaned close and whispered provocatively, “I know you want me to prove it to you.”

When Seunghyun started walking towards the door with Daesung in tow, Jihun finally noticed that the brunette was not watching his display of machismo in awe. He also took note of the tall man’s hand on the small of his back. He did not approve.

“Yah!” he barked. “Watch who you’re touching!”

Donghyeon and Minho were still going at it when Jihun lunged at the exiting couple. They did not see the stranger knock him down, but they did see the aftermath. Upon hearing the unforgettable sound of a skull knocking against the hardwood floor at a high velocity, the two men sprang apart and whirled around to see what had become of the third. They immediately stood close together should Seunghyun try anything against them — so incredibly uniting was their fear of the man. 

“Don’t touch him,” he growled at the figure gasping and curling into the fetal position on the ground.

He made a gesture as if he was going to grab Donghyeon, and the two men left standing flinched away in unison. Seunghyun smirked and readjusted the collar of his denim jacket.

“Let’s get out of this dump, babe.”

Daesung smiled and took his hand. 

                                                                                                                 *****

My black fire’s burning bright,/Maybe I’ll go out tonight./We can paint the town in blue./I’m so hot, I ignite,/                                                                                 

Dancing in the dark and I shine./Like a light I’m luring you.

That is how he ended up in the young man’s arms, sweaty hair pressed against his broad chest, smoking a cigarette on a lumpy bed at the local roach motel. He slung his Stetson low on Daesung’s head so that the brim slipped past his eyebrows. Daesung exhaled harshly in surprise, and the end of the cigarette flared a brilliant red. The only other light came through the window, cast by the glow of the flashing neon pink VACANCY sign out front.

“That wasn’t half bad, Stranger.”

“Seunghyun, I said. What’s your name?”

“I didn’t give it.”

Instead of pressing the issue, Seunghyun murmured, “But you’ll give up your body so easily?”

“That’s ironic coming from you, Stranger.”

“I’m just curious, Angel. You’re very young.”

Daesung coughed. The smoke, he reflected sagely, just didn’t go down as smoothly anymore.

“No. I just look it.”

“What were you doing at that bar tonight?”

“What I do every night I’m there.”

“And what’s that?”

“It’s not drinking cherry cola,” Daesung sang, walking his fingers over the man’s arm. “And it’s not playing Game Boy.”

Seunghyun plucked the cigarette from his other hand, eyes picking up on the burning ember in the dimly lit room. He grazed his fingers in a way that Daesung felt was purposeful. He refused to examine what those purposes might be.

“You’re good at evading questions.”

“That’s my superlative in my high school yearbook. I got voted as Best At Evading Questions and Most Likely To Choke To Death On A .”

Seunghyun chuckled. Goodness, he even chuckled beautifully, Daesung thought.

“Are you always this difficult? Aren’t you ever...easy?”

“What do you mean? Letting you me into oblivion within ten minutes of laying eyes on you isn’t easy enough?”

He took a drag on the cigarette and waited. Daesung sighed.

“I meet men online and I set up dates at The Sun. If I can swing it, I’ll get two of them to come. Honestly, I should have part ownership of the joint. Bom wouldn’t have any decent paying customers if I didn’t bring her fresh meat on the weekends. They always spend so much hoping I’ll get real drunk, and once they realize who the other guy is, they start beating the crap out of each other. They don’t know that I’d do them both sober at the same time. But I enjoy a good bar fight, so I let ’em duke it out until I get bored. It doesn’t take much these days.”

They sat in silence. Daesung sensed that he had said more than he perhaps should — after all, he never shared his “life story” with other lays — but he found it difficult to give a . Maybe he never shared because no one else had cared to ask. He started to move away, but Seunghyun tightened his arms around him.

The room had cooled considerably, as had their bodies. Sweat had dried uncomfortably on their flushed skin. It still smelled like . Same , different lay, thought Daesung with a snort. He noticed that Seunghyun was hard again under the thin cotton sheet, and that too was familiar, so he reached under and slid his hand over his hip. But the man twisted away and grasped his wrist.

“What are you doing!”

“I’m many things, Stranger, but an innocent little kid isn’t one of them. I know you like it when I prove it to you.”

The man d around on the nightstand. Daesung grinned smugly, thinking he was reaching for a . But then he heard a click, and the lighter ignited. Seunghyun had a fresh cigarette between his lips and he brought the flickering flame to his face, cupping the air around it almost tenderly with his free hand. He was so protective of the light that Daesung felt a tightness in his chest watching him. He must have made a face, because Seunghyun’s quick bright eyes darted over to his.

“What?”

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Can’t we just talk some more? We’ve got the room all night.”

Sensing Daesung’s hesitation, he leaned closer, smoke drifting between them.

“And if we have fun talking, we can have fun getting breakfast together. My treat.”

“These men–” he started. He tried again. “Look, I’ve been called a sociopath more than once. I’m starting to think it’s true.”

“Are you trying to warn me off? It’s not going to work.”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who gets his rocks off that way. I tell you I’m damaged goods ’cause I’ve been with so many men, and you get –”

“I don’t want to hear about how many men you’ve been with.”

“Then you want to be my savior, until you find a younger, tighter, more pathetic piece of one town over–”

“I don’t want to be your savior.”

The way he said it, quiet as a choirboy at confessional, made Daesung feel that he meant it. Which surprised him, as he scarcely believed anything the men he had been with said anymore.

“Is this some sort of game,” he said flatly.

“You are suspicious and weary beyond your years, Angel. Has it ever crossed your mind that someone might like you?”

“It did, once. But then he didn’t bother calling back. And neither did the next one.”

“Then it’s their loss,” said Seunghyun fiercely.

The younger man stole his cigarette from his fingers and made no comment.

“I think you like me too.”

“Yeah?” Daesung asked, amused. “I don’t even know you. Why would I do something stupid like that? What’s the thrill of the same toy?”

“When it’s really high quality, you won’t ever need to go looking for another.”

“But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Can you keep me entertained?”

“Aren’t I already?”

“You know, I love the thrill of the rush. Watching them fall one by one as they fight over me. I am being completely honest here. I like being a serial killer.”

Seunghyun nuzzled his neck as he thought up a response. Daesung let him. The mattress squeaked and groaned with every slight movement, reminding him of how they came to be here together. He felt strange, speaking to this man after what they had done. It was unnatural, he mused. Trying to acquire an emotional intimacy beyond the superficial and physical. He wanted him to take a risk that his heart would be broken — he wanted more from him than he was used to giving.

“Daesung,” he said suddenly.

“What?”

“Daesung is my name. I usually tell them my name is Seongmin. But it’s not.”

“Will you let me take you to breakfast in the morning, Daesung?”

“...Okay.”

“Thank you, Angel. I know it took a lot for you to tell me all that. And I promise, I’ll tell you all about me tomorrow. Now let’s get some sleep.”

Seunghyun gently tugged his hat off Daesung’s head and placed it carefully on the nightstand. Then he kissed him on the forehead before rolling him over. Daesung was used to being rolled, but not for the reason Seunghyun did it. He merely wrapped himself around the shorter man’s back, throwing his right arm over Daesung’s side protectively, and settled his face comfortably against his neck. He felt, oddly enough, quite safe in the stranger’s arms.

Outside, the VACANCY sign abruptly turned off.

Baby I’m a sociopath,/Sweet serial killer./On the warpath/'Cause I love you just a little too much.                                                                                                    .....                                                                                                                                                

You can see me/Drinking cherry cola,/Sweet serial killer./I left a love note,/                                                                                                                              

Said you know I love the thrill of the rush.                                                                                      

 .....                                                                                                                                                     

Just have fun./Want to play you like a Game Boy,/(I don’t want one)/What’s the thrill of the same toy?

.....

I love you just a little too much.