“Don’t touch me.” Kyungsoo bit back, though worried his voice would let out how truly terrified he was.

“Ooh, feisty!” he said, removing his hands and moving to the front of Kyungsoo, carefully removing the blindfold before stepping back. Kyungsoo glared, taking in the appearance of the man as he did the same. He looked young, but older than Jongin and definitely older than himself (though Kyungsoo knew that he wasn’t). Not much had changed osince the photos he’d seen.

“Jongin?” Kyungsoo called out. He was bringing the last suitcase back from his own apartment to move into Jongin’s when he arrived at the house, and though Jongin had said he’d be home, it was seemingly empty. However, the door was open, so Kyungsoo gripped the handle and twisted, hoping for the best. He was greeted with mainly silence, but a noise he couldn’t figure out definitely hitting his senses. Dropping his case in the pile with the rest of his belongings, he called out once more, yet again met with no response, only strange, slightly strangled noises.

Kyungsoo couldn’t help the lump that he swallowed down his throat, wondering just what was there. Was Jongin being robbed? 

He carefully opened the door to Jongin’s room, and was shocked by what he saw.

“You piece of !” Jongin cried in what something Kyungsoo would have assumed was originally meant to be a shout, but broken through delivery, followed by the sound of tearing. “You absolute piece of !”

Kyungsoo looked to the floor, seeing torn photographs scattered around, all of the same person. Jongin hadn’t heard him enter.

“Jongin-ah,” Kyungsoo said softly, the sound falling to deaf ears as the other continued to tear, continued to scream. “Jongin,” Kyungsoo said once again, this time placing his hand on his shoulder.

Jongin finally noticed his presence and looked up to Kyungsoo’s eyes, his own dark and conflicted like Kyungsoo had seen far too many times, and had told himself those far too many times that he never wanted to see again.

Kyungsoo looked down to what was in Jongin’s hands, to find a photo of three boys in their late teens, arms slung around each other. He immediately recognized the one on the right to be Jongin, whilst the one in the centre he knew to be Zitao. However, the person on the far left, he’d never seen before. He was a lot shorter than the two and considerably more pale, cheekbones sharp and mouth spread into a catlike grin.

Then it hit him, it must be-

“Is this… Jong-“

“Don’t say it,” Jongin cut him off, hands shaking as he attempted to tear him out of the photo, fingers fumbling at the ends of the paper, as if scared that if Kyungsoo said it, it’d act as some sort of confirmation before he destroyed the evidence.

Not that it made any difference.

Kyungsoo leant down, softly uncurling Jongin’s hands from the photo before placing it on the bed next to them and replacing the paper in his right hand with his own, then using his other to brush Jongin’s fringe out of his eyes. “You’ll ruin your good photos like that,” he said quietly, and Jongin wrapped his arms around Kyungsoo crying until all the sadness was gone, only beaten by hatred, until Kyungsoo calmed him down.

Kyungsoo made sure to take the rest of the pictures, discarding the ripped ones of Jongdae and placing the rest in a box, pushing it into the cupboard. He’d go through them for Jongin later, but there were more important things to worry about for now.

“Pretty, too. I can see why Kai- Jongin would like you, though you don’t really seem like his type.” Kyungsoo flinched back as Jongdae traced the contours of his face with cold fingers, gaze making him uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat, and Jongdae traced over his lips, smirking slightly to himself. “Thick lips, something I was never blessed with,” he pulled back, “No one has ever seemed to mind though, Jongin didn’t.” he added brashly, laughing as Kyungsoo clenched his jaw in annoyance. Jongdae begun to walk around the chair, trailing a finger around Kyungsoo’s body, from his shoulder around his back to his other once and across his clavicles. “I’ve been watching you and Jongin for a while, and it caught my attention how… Comfortable you are around each other.”

“Well we are dating.” Kyungsoo spat, growing more annoyed at Jongdae than scared for himself.

Jongdae let out a dry laugh in response, continuing on.

“It makes me wonder, Do Kyungsoo…” he paused, trailing his finger up Kyungsoo’s neck to rest at the bottom of his chin, tilting his head up, "How much do you know?” he blinked, somewhat innocently before opening his lips again. “Has Jongin spoken to you about me before?”

Kyungsoo jerked his chin head out of Jongdae’s hold, glaring. “He hasn't said much positive, if that’s what you were wondering.”

Jongdae pouted, and Kyungsoo would have been shocked how childish it looked had he not been so mad. “So unappreciative, he owes me so much, you know. I was so good to him, I don’t know why he had a tantrum and left.”

Kyungsoo didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Tell me, though, sweetheart, when was the last time Jongin spoke about me or this… establishment.”

Kyungsoo scoffed, blood boiling at the complete disregard of the effects that what Jongdae had done had damaged Jongin. “What sort of establishment is this, killing people for a living?”

“Oh, you underestimate me. I don’t just specialize in murders.”

“Because that makes it any better.”

The leader sighed, walking behind the man in the chair. “Kyungsoo, babe, I thought maybe I was going to like you, but all this back-chatting is beginning to get a little on my nerves.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t-“

Kyungsoo cut himself off with a small yelp, an unexpected sharp pain running vertically down his collarbone. He whipped his head around to see his own reflection in silver, red beginning to seep through his shirt.

“Don’t worry, it’s clean,” Jongdae brushed it off as he continued to drag the scalpel across his body, a diagonal line meeting the centre of the previous line, and then Kyungsoo had to look away, his stomach churning. “Of course, if you stop talking and telling me what I’m asking of you, maybe I won’t have to do it again. What do you know?”

Kyungsoo kept his jaw clenched shut and took another sharp intake of breath as Jongdae pressed and lifted, pressed and lifted the blade down to his skin once more, trying to ignore the almost burning feel as much as he could. It wasn’t deep enough to cause serious injury, and Kyungsoo knew well that was the case. It was just to get him to talk, and if Jongdae wanted to know something so badly, Kyungsoo would withstand that to make sure he didn't get it. That was his mantra as the man scarred into his skin. He didn’t know what he wanted, but all options pointed to something to do with Jongin. Kyungsoo had no idea why he wanted Jongin so badly when he didn’t think Jongin would budge, why he’d go to all the effort to bring him here when Jongin was done with him so long ago, but if Kyungsoo said anything that gave Jongdae a motive to do anything to him, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

“Oh, you are a loyal one, aren’t you?” Jongdae said, though the annoyance was hiding in his voice, “Society wouldn’t think he deserved someone like you, would they?”

“I don’t give a about what-“

Kyungsoo heard a loud clang on the opposite end of the room as the Jongdae through the scalpel away. “Just tell me what I want to know,” he snarled, taking a butcher’s knife and this time putting it to his throat, as trails of blood continued to make their way down the left side of Kyungsoo. “You know I know how to handle a blade.”

But Kyungsoo knew better. “I know you're not going to use it there, not yet.” he replied, trying his best to keep his cool despite the thundering of his heart and the ire swelling within him.

“And how do you know that, precious?”

“Because I’m here to bring Jongin to you. You won’t want me dead before he’s here.”

Jongdae pulled the knife away, “Well, I guess you are right,” he trailed his finger up and down the blunt side, “There is no point in killing you, just yet, though if Jongin loves you as much as you seem to love him, maybe you’ll just make it out of here alive,” the corners of his mouth raised jeeringly, “No guarantees, though.” Jongdae walked back around to the back of Kyungsoo, once again pressing his hands to his shoulders and kneading into the skin. This time Kyungsoo couldn't hold in the whimpers of pain as blood began to flow heavier, spilling from the cuts which had been laid upon him. They were deeper than he’d thought.

“So I wonder… How did someone like Jongin end up with someone like you?.. “Psychology major Do Kyungsoo, shouldn’t you have seen through him right at the start?”

...

Jongin pulled to the side of the road, sprinting the 300 metres to the entrance of the warehouse he hadn’t been to in so long - that he’d left in anger and had honestly, never planned on seeing again. But if Jongin had learnt anything, it was that nothing had gone to plan since he’d left. He halted to a stop at the entrance, looking around, slightly confused. Jongdae must have known Jongin would come running. He probably already knew he was here. Jongin knew that he wasn’t wanted dead, that no one would come out to kill him. But surely, unconscious would be easier to manage than conscious. Pushing his thoughts aside, Jongin grabbed the door handle, twisting it harshly before pulling back. It didn’t budge, and looking around, Jongin thought it had to be the same security system as before.He was only hoping he could still get in.

Pushing his thumb underneath the handle and flicking it back, he grinned when it opened, before placing his finger under the scanner. Come on. Come on, come on. The lock clicked, and Jongin looked at the door almost mistrustingly before opening to an all familiar view. Different from the outside, the warehouse turned headquarters was richly furnished on the inside. He wasn’t a childhood thug anymore, and when it was business, especially one as sticky as this, impression was key. To be sparing was to be weak and not worth the time, nor the hundreds of people feeding off its corruption.

Maybe Jongdae had always expected me to come back, he thought, before he found himself realizing he should have expected the sharp jab to his side and the hands pushing him against the wall, familiar face staring up at him.

“Oh Kai, was it? Fancy seeing you here.”

“You haven’t grown, Joonmyun.” he said, more annoyed than anything else.

“It doesn’t matter,” the man holding him said, arm up to his throat, “Not making much of a difference for your position.”

“If Jongdae has my boyfriend for a reason, it’s so I come to him, so ing let me go and I’ll be on my way.”

Joonmyun cocked his head, smiling slightly, “Oh, but that’s no fun. You don’t even know where to go… I wonder if Sehun and Luhan are still with him?”

The names flashed past Jongin’s head, desperately trying to recall who and how, but he ended up coming up blank.

“Who?”

The shorter male laughed, “I’m sure you’ll find out later. Just remember, Jongdae keeps his practises the same as before. I’m surprised you haven’t already realized.”

“Let go of-”

“Hopefully, he’ll be finding it quite pleasurable. Well, not for you, but-“

Jongin delivered a swift kick to Joonmyun’s leg, finding enough time in the other’s staggering to get out way of reach. Joonmyun looked at him incredulously.

“Where is he- where is- they can’t touch him- their filthy hands can’t-”

The other male smirked. “Who am I to interrupt their time by telling?”

Jongin’s face was paling, he didn’t want to think of what they were doing to Kyungsoo against his own will.

“Better get running, loverboy.”

Jongin took off, flying. As much as he wanted to punch Joonmyun in the face, he didn’t have the time.

...

Kyungsoo remained silent, and Jongdae leant down to his ear, breath tickling in the most unpleasant way. “Come on, ‘Soo. Unless you word yourself really badly, nothing you say here can be used against him. I’m just trying to have a friendly chat until he gets here, that’s all. Tell me, what makes you love our Jonginnie so much?”

“The Jongin I know is different to the one you knew,” Kyungsoo said, breaths shaking but voice not wavering. “You know Kai, you don’t know Jongin.”

“Sorry to break it to you, love, but Jongin and Kai are kind of the same person.”

“No, they were the same person. Jongin doesn’t associate with Kai anymore. Kai’s the killer, not Jongin.”

Jongdae looked at him, clearly amused. “Jongin’s never had multiple personalities.”

“No, but he was ed up enough to do stuff that he quit when he quit the name Kai.”

Jongdae sighed, “You can say that, but it doesn’t change the fact that he killed all those people. He’s not clean.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Kyungsoo said, answer instant, catching the other slightly off-guard, though barely noticeable as he walked around the chair. “I’m not saying that what he did was right, but he’s not that person anymore.”

Jongdae leant down to look into the man in the chair’s eyes once more. “And who else knows, apart from you? Do your parents know? What would they think?”

Kyungsoo’s mind flashed back to the first time Jongin ever met his parents. He’d never seen Jongin so nervous in his life.

“Don’t worry, Jongin-ah,” Kyungsoo had said, “I bet the moment they meet you they’ll love you.”

“You’re the only one that loves me, ‘Soo. No one else knows what I’ve done.”

“Of course other people love you, what about your friends?”

“They’re your friends, but not my actual ones. If they found out what I’d done they’d leave in a heartbeat.”

“I never did.”

“And I’ll never understand why.”

Kyungsoo sighed, wrapping an arm around Jongin’s stomach and leaning in to the side. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I deserve it, Kyungsoo, and the people around you don’t deserve to be lied to.”

“You’re not lying, you’re just not telling them. When they- if they- my parents, our friends or not, if they ever find out and are rash, I’m not going to leave your side.”

“You can’t bring guests to prison.”

“I wouldn’t let it get that far.”

Jongin sighed, dropping his head. “Kyungsoo- it’s just. They’re your parents, they want the best for you and- and I’m not that person. You could do so much better.”

Kyungsoo took Jongin’s hand, squeezing it extra tight in his own and pressing a chaste kiss on his lips before knocking at the front door to his parent’s house. “Whether or not I can, it doesn’t matter. You’re all I see.”

“No, they don’t. They never asked, either.”

“Surely though, our dear Jongin baby would get into a lot of trouble if anyone else found out,” Jongdae paused, “I guess I would too, though. I wouldn’t rat out on him anyway.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem for you to clear your name.”

“That is true,” Jongdae laughed, “You’re a smart one! I don’t stand a chance of being put behind bars.”

Kyungsoo now seemed more curious than scared. “So then why wouldn’t you rat out on Jongin?”

“Kyungsoo babe, you make it sound like you want Jongin to get lifetime.”

“You said yourself I was a psychology major; I’m intrigued.”

“That’s true, I doubt you’ve ever met someone like me.”

“Not quite,” he deadpanned, “Enlighten me.”

“You tell me. Isn’t this your field of expertise? Give me a diagnosis, Dr Do.”

“I’m no psychiatrist.”

“I’m sure you can make a judgement.”

“Answer my question, first.”

Jongdae breathed out a laugh, smiling slightly. “You’re the one tied up in the chair, and here I am, with the knife, answering you. How ironic! Maybe it’s because if he’s behind bars, he’s never going to come running back. It’s a messy business, this whole underground gang thing. To get myself out- easy, I’ve done it before. Someone else, probably not so much. No one’s ever been worth it so I’ve never had to test it out and well- if I have to on Jongin, who says he’ll come back to me? I guess that’s why you’re here.” Jongdae stopped for a moment, before continuing. “Or maybe I feel like he belongs here- sentiment, it’s a weird thing. I don’t like to think I have any, it makes a human weak.”

“Ignorance makes a human weak.”

Jongdae moved his fingers along the flat side of the blade, humming slightly. “I can do a lot more with this knife than you can do with your chemical defects.”

“They’re not defects, they’re what make you human.”

“And as long as my heart beats, I am no less human than you are. Just stronger.”

Kyungsoo let the information sink in, though he was ninety percent certain by the stories that Jongin told him, and one hundred by the time Jongdae had finished. “My diagnosis is leaning on psychopath,” he said, quite frankly. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

Jongdae let out a loud laugh, something which Kyungsoo hadn’t expected, but was not surprised by. “Well, I wouldn’t know. I’d assume if I was diagnosed they might lock me up and well, I don’t know how I’d manage to get out of a mental asylum.”

...

Jongin ran through the building, desperately trying to remember where the room that Kyungsoo may be in. The hallways were virtually empty, one room leader to another with no result, and Jongin didn’t know where to look. Running down the stairs, he was stopped by a familiar figure, made tall by the expensive, tacky high heels and the sparkling shorts which seemed more like underwear, exposing her thin, pale legs to the very top.

“Kai oppa,” she purred, placing her thin hands over his chest, trailing them down. “I’ve missed you.”

The man jolted back, paying no attention to her advances, too frantic to even notice. “Sehun- Luhan, where are they?”

“Whys it matter?” she asked sultrily, raising her hands to tangle them in the other’s hair. She stumbled back, making a soft squeaking noise, as hands pushed her shoulders up against the wall, her hips bumping a table at the side, knocking down a glass vase, it shattering to the floor. Jongin paid no mind to the noise, whilst the girl tensed up.

“Where are they?”

“Why does it-“

“Where the are they?” Jongin growled, pushing her shoulders back farther.

Song Qain cowered back, fear taking over her. Whilst Jongin had still been Kai, she’d found herself by the deep rumble that came out of his throat, often when they were ing and he was in one of his angry moods. But this was different, for it was filled with anger, but also something else she’d never experienced from him. “The-they went home less than half an hour ago- why-“

No sooner was Jongin letting go and taking back off down the hall. The sinking feeling was falling deeper, and he had a feeling he knew exactly where they were.

“Let me in.”

The man being spoken to looked up from his phone, cocking an eyebrow.

“Oh hello, Kai. Nice to see you too, it’s been how long?”

“Just ing let me in!”

“Language, language, language,” Minseok tutted, smirking slightly as his phone vibrated, before placing it in his pocket. “You kids, you should mind your tongue.”

Jongin grabbed him by the shirt and threw him away, twisting the doorknob but finding it locked.

“Calm down, I messaged the boss and he said that he just wants a few more minutes to talk to your boyfriend. Alone.”

“Don’t mess with me, you piece of .”

Minseok laughed, “Wow Kai, I thought we were friends before!”

“Don’t call me Kai.”

“Well, it’s who you are, isn’t it?”

Jongin ignored the comment. “Give me the key.”

“Just a few minutes, just wait a few more. It’s been a while since we caught up.” Before he knew it, Jongin had pinned Minseok up against the wall, left arm over his throat. “Someone’s eager.” Minseok commented cockily, simply pushed Jongin back with his hands, standing up straight, until Jongin swung at his jaw and a crack resonated through the halls.

“Give it to me before I bust that door down.”

“I’d like to see you try.” 

Minseok's head hit the wall with a painful crack, jaw clenching as he finally threw his fist at Jongin’s own, Jongin’s head falling back in a futile attempt to dodge and Minseok’s knuckles still hitting hard enough to hit, blood pooling at his lip. “You were meant to go in their unharmed, but when you pull like that, I have to do what I have to do.” 

Jongin shoved Minseok against the wall, using his knee to repetitively jab into his stomach. Minseok was no longer fighting back, but Jongin still made him drop to the ground, squeezing the pressure points in his shoulders. Minseok looked at him amused as he searched through his pockets, and Jongin almost found himself screaming. “Why are you laughing!?”

“You haven’t changed, not really.”

Jongin froze, the words ringing through his ears. Choosing to ignore them, he continued to search the man until he found what he was looking for; a silver key shining as he frantically unlocked the door, pulling it open violently, chest heaving as he looked to the main tied together on the chair and anger flaring even further as stared into the eyes of the most hated man in his life. Out of the two, one of them looked very worried, whilst the other looked very, very pleased.

“Jong-”

“Oh Jongin, how lovely to see you!”

//AUTHORS NOTE//

SORRY NOT SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER.
is it actually, though?
Not gonna lie, I really love Jongdae.

I would ramble on about why I didn't update sooner but bo one reads these anyway so ;)
School is dumb and I've barely had any time to even look at editing and writing so ;;
The sidestory is still processing and hopefully will be finished soon.

Comments are always appreciated, and a big thank you to everyone that has done that and/or subscribed/upvoted, you guys rock ^^

Stay cool, guys ;)