Work Text:
Yoosung walked back to the room he'd been staying in for over a year now, to the man he had been staying with over a year now.
The man he loved.
It always came as a shock to him, accompanied with the tingly sensation of being in love. Butterflies and everything. He had finally found someone to care for, someone who needed him. Someone who was his and only his.
Or that's what he thought until he neared the door of that room.
Moans of a stranger, a woman, reached Yoosung's ears. Moans that were not his own. But alongside those foreign moans, were familiar grunts. Familiar cursing. Words that felt like home to him. Up until now.
He stood frozen at the door, the coldness of the door knob biting into his skin. The poisonous words seeping through the door barely registered in Yoosung's mind.
But one sentence stuck, burning a hole in his pride.
“Such a good little bitch.” Saeran's voice travelled through the door, clear as the day in Yoosung's mind.
He heard the woman moan out at the twisted praise - His twisted praise - and he felt his blood boil.
His fingers reached for the bottle of pills that he kept in his jacket pocket. It gave him strength, the courage to deal with things he couldn't normally. And he needed that courage right now. He craved it.
He popped three into his mouth, swallowing it dry as he listened to the high pitched moans and grunts coming from the opposite side of the door.
He counted to twenty before walking away and coming back with three disciples. None of them questioned the authority of the boy who looked like their Savior.
He opened the door and led them inside, the offenders stilling their vile act.
Yoosung's mind was still distant, and his voice sounded far away as he announced that the girl needed to be taken for another cleansing.
The girl protested, kicking and screaming as she was led out, half naked, but her objections fell on deaf ears.
Yoosung glanced back at Saeran, who was watching him with almost fascinated eyes.
The blonde man smiled sweetly, closing the door behind him as the knife he slipped out of his jacket glinted dangerously.
~
Yoosung blinked a few times, coming back from his dazed state to register the scene in front of him.
He stared at the blood on his hands, and an even bloodier knife that was held in his right.
His eyes travelled down to the panting male beneath him, his left chest bleeding as the shallow cuts gleamed with crimson liquid.
“Y…o...o...s...u...n...g.” he read out slowly, before looking up into Saeran's darkened eyes.
His mind slowly caught up, and his mouth moved on its own accord as he bent low and licked the weeping wound, tracing his own name with his tongue.
“Your skin looks so pretty with red, Saeran… so beautiful with my name on it.” he cooed against Saeran's chest.
“Now they'll all know you’re mine. Only mine.” he pressed his tongue into the letters, causing Saeran to whimper under him.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, forgotten morals nagged at him, a shadow of a conscience.
He furrowed his brows, wondering why he felt any guilt at all. Saeran was his. His man. His to touch, his to kiss, his to taste, his to own and his to mark. That was what he had been told, how was any of this wrong?
They were the one's who were caught in the disgusting act, Yoosung was simply taking measures to make sure it didn't happen again. He was being merciful, in fact, forgiving Saeran and giving him another chance. How was that wrong?
“Aren’t you mine, Saeran?” he asked sweetly, cocking his head as he looked into the mint green eyes.
Saeran grinned manically up at Yoosung, but stayed silent, causing Yoosung's frown to deepen.
“I didn’t like hurting you like this. But now they’ll know.” Now you'll know.
“So beautiful, so tempting. And all mine to keep.” He bent low and whispered in Saeran's ear, licking the shell and teasing the bleached male. “All mine.”
He pulled Saeran up, admiring as more blood leaked from the wound, letting some more red trail down his chest.
He handed the knife to Saeran, removing his own shirt as he settled on the bed, inviting the older male to straddle him.
“Won’t you mark me as yours too?” he sang sweetly, his request clearly sending jolts of pleasure to Saeran's exposed length.
Yoosung trailed a finger on his own chest.
“Unless you want someone else to be pounding into me, someone else owning me and giving me the kind of pleasure that makes me forget my own name.” he prodded.
“Someone other than you, kissing me and marking me. Someone other than you having me pleasure them with my mouth.” he coaxed some more, tilting his head innocently.
“Is that what you want, Master?” Yoosung asked, still keeping up his innocence.
Saeran growled and Yoosung felt the edge of the metal kiss his chest. He let out a pleasurable hiss at the feeling.
“Yesss.” he moaned as Saeran carved out the first letter.
“You’re mine, Yoosung.” Saeran's voice came out slightly raspy with need.
“And I will mark you so that everyone knows.”
Yoosung cried out as Saeran put more pressure on the blade, carving out the last few letters, slowly and painfully. Yoosung thought he'd cum right there.
“You are mine…” Yoosung said, opening his eyes and letting Saeran see the lust, need, possessiveness and twisted adoration that reflected in his violet orbs.
“And I am yours.” He finished, biting his lip as a look of pure ownership flashed in Saeran's eyes, followed by a shorter look of dependence.
Yoosung knew he would never stray now. Not ever again.
Everyone would know that they belonged to each other.
Everyone would know that Saeran was his.