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When Hanbin comes to, he’s shirtless, lying flat on his back and bound spread-eagle on top of a table.
“What the fuck,” he says to himself.
Something metallic clatters to the floor to his side. “What the-” yelps a familiar voice. “You’re awake? How are you awake already?!”
Hanbin thinks back. The last thing he can remember is… dinner. A date. That was going very well. He remembers having dinner with this guy he met from pilates class. Cute. Adorable smile. Fuckin’ sexy tattoos, but more because Hanbin didn’t think he was the type to get tattoos.
That voice must have been Youngjae.
“Sorry, did I fall asleep?” Hanbin mutters quickly through lips that feel like gum. “I’m so sorry, you’re not a boring date I swear, I’m just tired-“ He turns to look at where Youngjae must be just in time for Youngjae to stand up straight from picking his knife from the floor.
His knife, Hanbin’s mind repeats quickly.
His pretty impressive knife, and Hanbin doesn’t mean that as a euphemism. It’s about as long as Hanbin’s arm.
“Shut up,” says Youngjae, flustered and adorably flushed red. “You’re supposed to be knocked out for another thirty minutes, how are you awake already?”
Hanbin remembers a bit more. Remembers having dinner downtown. Hanbin had spaghetti with clams, Youngjae had some chowder, and they both must have gotten liberal with the wine if the heavily sexual conversation Hanbin recalls actually did happen.
Youngjae mentioned he was imagining massaging oil all over Hanbin’s body right then. Hanbin found his blood had all rushed from his brain to somewhere lower than his belt.
Then… yeah, Youngjae invited him over to his place. “I want to get to know you more,” Hanbin remembers Youngjae saying after a suggestive lick of his lips. “Somewhere more… comfortable. More private.”
Hanbin has just enough blood to operate either his brain or his dick. There was a clear winner.
He tries to move his arms. Then his feet. No luck, the silk ropes had no give whatsoever. He clears his throat instead. “Look, I’m not saying I’m not into this but we really should have the kinks and boundaries talk first.”
“Shut up,” says Youngjae again, but with more bite this time. “You really can’t read a room, can you?”
“I told you I have problems with interpreting social cues.” Or at least Hanbin thinks he did. His brain’s still fuzzy on some parts of the night. Did he really drink that much?
“Must have miscalculated the dosage,” Youngjae mutters, contemplating a phial of clear liquid.
Hanbin has flashes of them walking leisurely from the restaurant to Youngjae’s apartment, which Youngjae insisted wasn’t that far. But far enough to work up a bit of a sweat, Hanbin thinks. Or maybe it was just the temperature; summer was not kind at all. So when Youngjae offered him something to drink as soon as they reached his place, Hanbin was so thirsty that he didn’t even think that maybe there was something more insidious hiding behind that adorable smile.
Of course. The first date Hanbin scores in seventy years and of course he turns out to be a serial killer.
This is karma, says Changkyun’s voice in his head. Hanbin ignores it with the ease of practice.
Youngjae turns his attention back to Hanbin, along with the knife that he’s holding with a confident grip.
Hanbin sighs. “Look, I get the bindings. I’ve been known to indulge in a bit of rope play myself. And I’ve been told I look good bound, gagged, and blindfolded so I don’t blame you for thinking the same thing.”
Youngjae shakes his head. “There’s no point in pretending to be brave. Whatever happens I’m not letting you go so you might as well immerse yourself in the fear and panic. It’s healthier to be in touch with your emotions anyway.”
Fear. Panic. Right. Hanbin definitely remembers that people feel those things when tied up by a knife-wielding hot mess. He’s out of practice. “Just out of curiosity: does me panicking enrich the experience for you in any way? Because I can do that, sure, but I prefer not to.” Youngjae tilts his head, dumbstruck. Hanbin wonders if it was a stupid thing to say.
“Look, just because I’m going to kill you doesn’t mean I don’t want the best for you.”
“You’re so sweet,” Hanbin gushes.
Youngjae gawks wordlessly at him. That was probably the wrong response. But hey, it’s been a while since Hanbin last went home with a guy and he figured honesty was always more likely to land a second date.
“What’s the knife for, by the way?” Hanbin continues, curiosity still piqued.
“For… carving runes into your chest and gutting you open.” Youngjae’s speaking slowly. Like that time their instructor clarified that when she said ten more crunches she meant ten more crunches even though Hanbin already completed the fifty she originally wanted.
Pilates does not foster trust in authority.
Hanbin considers Youngjae’s words. “I… guess I can see why some people are into that.” Hanbin lifts his head enough to look at his chest. “I’ve been told my pecs are some of my best features, so-“
“Okay, what do you think is happening right now?” Youngjae interrupts. “Because it seems like you’re out of touch with the moment. Or maybe disoriented? No, you’re lucid… I think.”
Hanbin adjusts his expectations. Youngjae’s tone didn’t fit the context he had in mind. “We’re…. not about to have sex, are we.”
“No, we are not,” Youngjae confirms. “I’m about to carve a prayer into your skin, slice your body open, pull your intestines out of the wound, wrap them tight around your neck and use them to strangle you until you die.”
There must be a disconnect somewhere because that’s exactly what Hanbin was imagining Youngjae’s warm hands would do to him. “And… it’s not a sex thing?”
Youngjae nods. “It’s not a sex thing. It really should be obvious. Do you not see that it’s not a sex thing?”
Huh. “See, the catch is that I know someone who’s into that.” Hanbin hates sounding defensive. It’s never a good development for a date if one of you is being defensive. “So I’m just keeping an open mind here- wait, did you say prayer?”
Youngjae comes closer. His knife gleams menacingly in the fluorescent light. “Yes. A prayer to our dark lord so that your soul may pass into his belly at the moment of your death.”
“Oh.” Hanbin thunks his head on the table. “Of course! You’re in a cult!”
“Yes! Exactly!” Youngjae looks so proud that Hanbin’s finally catching on. It makes Hanbin want to kiss him, he’s just so cute when he’s excited. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page now!”
“Sorry it took a while to catch on. Normally I expect to see more ambience to establish a cult feeling, you know? Like candles. Lots of candles. And chains. Not- look, you used silk ropes, that’s a sex thing these days so it’s not just me, okay?”
Youngjae stares at him.
Hanbin’s on a roll. “And also, I don’t know what iconography you use but shouldn’t your cult’s symbols be displayed prominently somewhere? Like a pentagram drawn in blood on the wall or something? Just brainstorming suggestions here for our next date.”
“You’re… actually lying on our symbol, I drew it on the table. Wait- that’s really- I’m going to sacrifice you to a god, why is your mind still on dates? You know what, this has dragged on long enough.” Youngjae pulls his sleeves up and raises his hands. Hanbin catches a glimpse of a tattoo - two colons (the punctuation kind, not the intestinal kind) with a parenthesis in the middle - on Youngjae’s wrist right before he plunges the knife into Hanbin’s gut.
He’s so strong, Hanbin gushes.
So strong that his knife bounces off of Hanbin and he reels back unsteadily.
“So, your god…” Hanbin picks up on the conversation while Youngjae’s trying to process what just happened. “Have you actually seen him? Like, in person?”
Youngjae is gaping at him. Still processing, then.
“Tell me, does he look like this?” Hanbin clears his throat. Then he… doesn’t speak, not exactly, because speaking means vocalizing words that carry ideas. Instead, Hanbin wills his thoughts into the universe itself. And his thoughts can be summed up basically into: dude, come here right now!
There’s a flash of light. It dissipates, and there’s Changkyun in pajamas bending over like he’s looking into a fridge that didn’t get summoned with him.
Changkyun blinks, once, twice, sighs and stands straighter. Looks around and spots Hanbin. “I was having such a perfect evening. Why are you ruining my perfect evening?”
“Well hello to you too.”
“My lord!” Youngjae exclaims, falling onto his hands and knees.
Changkyun winces. “I told you people to stop calling me that!”
“My lord!” Youngjae continues, missing social cues that relieves Hanbin because maybe they can make this work after all. “I didn’t mean to summon you- I wasn’t summoning you, please forgive the unworthiness of this room-“
“Oh my god, just- stop talking!” Changkyun’s red from embarrassment. He turns to Hanbin. “What the fuck, man?”
Hanbin grins, teasing. “I see your harem is still going strong!”
“They’re not my harem! You put them up to this! Three hundred years and they won’t stop bothering me!”
“They actually call themselves a cult now,” Hanbin points out. “Although it’s good to know that some elements of your original harem survived the passage of time.” Hanbin grins wider. “Like the bondage. And the breathplay. Though they’re getting a lot kinkier!”
Changkyun buries his face in his hands. “I was having such a good night. I hate you. So much.” And he disappears again with another flash of light.
Hanbin lifts his head as far as he can to look around for Youngjae. “So. That was my friend. Who I’m sure you’ve already met. Hey, get up-”
“WHO ARE YOU?” Youngjae screams.
“See, this is why the ‘getting to know you’ phase of dating is important,” Hanbin says patiently. “We’ll get to that on our second date.”
Youngjae stares at him.
“For now, though, since you already have me tied up…“ Hanbin raises his eyebrows suggestively. “Is there anything you’d want to do?”
