Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Usually, Inwoo is able to keep himself perfectly composed. Slipping on the mask society deems acceptable, effortlessly pretending to be someone he is not. A perfect image, a painting. He is elegant, controlled, still.

Right now, however, the leg he has underneath the steel table will not stop bouncing no matter how hard he tries to stop it. Not because of nerves, but because of impatience. Inwoo has not suffered from nervousness since the first time he went out to kill, but even then, that was out of eager apprehension, excitement. Just the right amount of fear anyone would suffer before killing their first victim.

In his current situation, sullying the grounds of this cold, germ infested, concrete building, it makes no sense for Inwoo to be suffering from the effects of anxiety that digs its sharp claws into the common person. Put simply, he does not get like this, and getting like this now only aggravates him, which makes the knee bouncing worse.

What was he even doing here, again? Wasting his time, it was starting to feel like. With a quick glance at his watch, Inwoo notes that he has spent exactly two minutes waiting in this dirty, soulless box. If he has to wait sixty additional seconds, he will be out of the door with no plans to return.

Counting each tick, he makes it to twenty-four when the other door is swung open with a buzz and a loud squeak. This place needs to oil the hinges, he thinks. Complete disorder, how can they call this place operational when everything is old, dirty and creaky? Even the concrete flooring below his feet would probably make some sort of cracking sound in some areas of complete wear.

The approaching footsteps, also producing irritating little squeaky sounds with each point of contact to the ground, suddenly comes to a halt. Quickly glancing upwards, Inwoo sees the raw confusion warping the soft features of Dongsik’s squishy face. How the entire nation believed that he, of all people, was really the Predator Killer had to be a cosmic joke. At least, Inwoo certainly found it hilarious, and if the universe doesn’t agree, it’s simply wrong.

“I- er… A-are you here to see me?” Dongsik stutters, glancing questioningly to the guard gripping him by the arm.

“Tell me, do you see anyone else waiting in this room?” Inwoo asks, tilting his head a specific degree to the left. His patience was already wearing thin, with the waiting time and the undeniable disgusting conditions, he doesn’t need Dongsik’s idiocy making it all worse. Inwoo refuses to lose his perfect composure because of such a fool again.

“I. I supposed not.” Dongsik’s head droops, his feet shuffling across the short remaining distance to the table. Taking a seat, he allows the prison guard to cuff his hands to the table, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on either his lap or the floor.

After the silence has stretched out, wasting Inwoo’s precious seconds, he realises that Dongsik is not going to be the first one to talk. Typical, that Inwoo has to take initiative with this man once more.

“You must be doing well,” Inwoo says, taking in Dongsik’s overall sunken appearance. While still looking squishy, his cheeks have become noticeably more shallow, dark circles under his eyes accompanying them. Face lacking colour, save for the fading bruise on his left cheek. In all honesty, Inwoo was expecting Dongsik’s condition to be significantly worse, being the soft imbecile he is.

“Ah, I-I’m not doing terrible, I guess. It could definitely be worse. I’ve seen how other prisoners g-get treated. Everyone tries to avoid me, so you could say I’ve b-been lucky,” Dongsik replies, voice quiet, lacking energy. He must be fatigued as well.

“Avoids you?” Inwoo questions, raising one eyebrow, a skill that took extensive muscle training to perfect, but it suits his well put together persona nicely.

“Yes. M-most especially my cellmates. Aigoo, I don’t even understand how b-but they’ve been intimidated by me since day one, heh.” Even though he is blatantly unsure of himself, Dongsik’s infuriating ability to chatter prevails. Seems it will in any given situation. Someone could probably be in the middle of trying to murder him and he’d go on a tangent about his latest experience he deems worthy of mentioning.

“Ah. If everyone here avoids you, how did you get that?” Inwoo taps his own cheek, mirroring the position of the green and yellow tint on Dongsik’s face.

The man’s eyes widen for a moment, as if remember it was even there at all. “Oh, that. Um my own fault. I may be a serial killer, but I am still somehow a chump; I-er tripped over my feet and fell down a few steps outside. I think the legs on this suit are too long, I keep catching the toes of my shows on the hems.”

Picturing that scenario, Inwoo absolutely does not find it amusing. Irritating is more like it. Such a pathetic person, and people believe him to have murdered seven people. Insane.

“I see,” Inwoo replies, not sure where else this line of topic could really go. Part of him gets the urge to check his watch and see how much time they have left so he could leave, feeling this was a waste of time. In honesty, it probably was, he’s not even sure what he’s doing.

“I-I’m sorry, but, was there something you needed, Director Seo?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I just… don’t understand why you’re here. You must hate me, for ruining the image of your company and all. Oh, perhaps that’s why you’ve come, to see what sort of state I’m in and determine if I am suffering enough for what I’ve done. I’m probably not, you know. Apart from ending the lives of my family, I don’t think there is any way to make me suffer enough. I’m sorry.”

While Dongsik’s gaze goes back to admiring the floor, Inwoo allows himself the eyeroll. To think he was once enamoured by this idiot, intrigued like he never had been before. Felt possessive of him, even. There is some disgust harboured towards his past self for that.

How could Dongsik be so idiotic to believe that he really owned the diary? That he was really a cold, perfectly composed, methodical psychopath? A serial killer, when he couldn’t even end the lives he threatened. Pitiful, laughable.

“That’s not it,” Inwoo denies, calmly, trying his best to ignore the fact Dongsik appeared on the brink of tears.

“No? Then why are you here, Seo Inwoo-ssi?”

Such a simple question, one deserving of an automatic, instantaneous answer. Anyone would know why the go to pay a convicted prison a visit. Reasons as simple as the prisoner is missed, or as Dongsik suggested, the visitor wanting to get a glimpse at their suffering. Yet, when Seo Inwoo parts his lips to provide such an easy answer, no words come forth. Truly, he cannot understand what compelled him to make the journey to this rotten germ-infested building.

To see Yook Dongsik, no less. A man undeserving of Inwoo’s time and attention. At the end of the day, all he was good for was being a foolish little scapegoat. A sorry use of a life, meant for nothing other than to be used as a doormat.

So why did Inwoo travel all this way to see him?

Eventually, Dongsik clicks his tongue, leaning back in his steel chair as best he can with his restraints, the metal giving out a slight creak and the change in pressure. “I see. You must be afraid of me, if you can’t even explain why. Not that I can blame you. Who could predict how a psychopathic serial killer like me would react to whatever your reason is,” he says, with such a cool demeanour it reminds Inwoo of when he first found Dongsik, when he was intrigued by the enigma of a man. Now, it is almost unbefitting of the man Dongsik truly is.

Ignoring that long familiar spark of intrigue, Inwoo mentally scoffs. Afraid? Of Yook Dongsik? It is just as ridiculous as the man himself is. Preposterous. That would be the equivalent of Inwoo fearing himself, since Dongsik has essentially stolen his identity and is using it as his inducer of fear.

A small ‘tsk’ pushes its way past Inwoo’s lips, surprising the both of them. During the seconds Inwoo spends thinking of how to casually follow that up, a daring gaze glimmers in Dongsik’s eyes.

“I know you wouldn’t be able to do anything to me,” Inwoo says, eyeing first the handcuffs around Dongsik’s wrists, then the guard in the corner of the room. Additionally, Inwoo is referencing Dongsik’s failed attempted murder on several occasions. After witnessing such spectacles, Inwoo is confident that Dongsik would never be able to hurt anyone intentionally, no matter how cold-hearted he pretends to be.

“For the moment,” Dongsik acknowledges, that cold edge still dripping from his tone. “But. You should be careful still; you know what I’m here for.”

Indeed Inwoo does, and finds it hilarious. That Dongsik is somewhat threatening the real culprit right now as well makes it even better. The man is here because of Inwoo and delight, though brief, surges through him. Reminding him of the feel he has been missing in the weeks Dongsik has been locked away. That part of Inwoo that once craved any interaction with Dongsik, pulling his strings like a puppet, wants to egg him on. See how far he can be pushed, what it takes to send him over the edge.

Perhaps, before getting Dongsik trapped in prison, Inwoo simply had not pushed the correct buttons to get the result he was desperate for. It’s true that Dongsik is no psychopath, but he is emotional. Even if they are impulsive and sloppy, an emotional person still has the capability to commit murder. All they require are the right motivating circumstances.

The excitement the mere idea causes to bubble up inside Inwoo threatens to burst out in a laugh. He has to bite his cheek to prevent himself from even smiling. After all this time, after everything he’s come to realise and regret, just the thought of Dongsik killing thrills Inwoo on almost the same scale as doing the murdering himself. Setting Dongsik up and framing sure had been fun, but it could never compare to this fantasy Inwoo has been holding on to for four months.

And that’s when the reason hits him.

Somehow, he, Seo Inwoo, misses Yook Dongsik. The feeling that he has been experiencing is regret, that he lost such a unique source of entertainment. Whatever he had going on with Dongsik before learning about the amnesia. All the things that drew him in, the feelings he experienced, Inwoo misses it. So, Dongsik had been of significantly more use outside of prison, and the lack of it all is what has Inwoo bored out of his skull.

“That’s true. I do know,” Inwoo agrees, feeling he had been silent for too long. “But… Maybe I don’t quite believe it.”

Dongsik’s poorly fabricated mask, constructed of thin threads of fictional media, falls away once more. All he can do is gape at Inwoo, lips working away with no words crawling out. Before he even gets the chance to form a response, the guard announces, rather impatiently, that their time is up. As Dongsik continues to flounder, Inwoo composes himself, rising from his horribly uncomfortable seat and fixing his coat. Tugging on the lapels to straighten out the shoulders and turning up the collar.

“Inwoo-ssi. Do you really mean that?” Dongsik is at last able to ask, peeking up at In Woo nervously from the curtain of curls falling over his eyes. Waiting a second first, Inwoo replies with a contemplative him. To this, Dongsik scoffs, rolling his eyes, all innocence dissipating. “Then you are a fool.”

The poor creature tries so hard, Inwoo bites his tongue to keep the grin away.

“I’ll see you again, Dongsik-ssi,” he says as he makes his way to the exit, not allowing the other man time to respond. Inwoo had not been planning on coming back at all after this visit, but with the few realisations he’s just made, he cannot resist. There is much he can do, and he’s missed having this little extra fuel for his life.

Maybe he had made a mistake using Dongsik as his scapegoat. Instead he should have tried harder to push Dongsik over the edge, bring out the person Inwoo was desperate to see, trapped underneath the many layers of sweetness and all things people claim make you ‘human’. If they were all stripped away, that would make things easier, but they are much too thick. The only option would be to push them aside, let Dongsik fall over and plummet to the bottom where his emotions will allow the darker impulses out. This is proven possible by the simple fact Dongsik was very able to try and kill, would have too had his better side not regain control.

Perhaps Inwoo should just let this idiot go, once and for all. Carry out everything he has planned to make his life perfect at last. Or, just maybe, Dongsik has become part of the list of things Inwoo needs. Shall he try harder to turn the soft skinned man into a killer? How would that work with him in prison? Would Inwoo… need to get him out?

That’s idiotic, he thinks with a scoff. No, all he needs is a little more time to figure out what he truly wants, and then what to do about it. The best place to start is by visiting Dongsik again, as that seemed to have brought many things out of hiding.

--

It’s only four days before Inwoo makes his return. Originally, he planned to wait longer, but desperation was loud and refused to be quiet. Lips curling with disgust, Inwoo occupies himself with examining the interior again, noticing every stain on the depressing walls, the one broken light on the ceiling, mould growing along the edges of one of the windows. Horrendous conditions, ones that Dongsik should not be worth enduring for.

The man in question makes Inwoo wait for less than two minutes this time before making his appearance. Looking slightly better, only due to the fact the bruise ruining his face has disappeared. Dongsik’s eyes meet Inwoo’s, and he again seems shocked. The guard urges him to take a seat, bewildered gaze remaining on Inwoo as he is cuffed to the table.

“You… really came back,” he states.

“Mmh. I don’t break my promises, Dongsik-ssi,” Inwoo replies, crossing one leg over the other.

“Why?” Dongsik demands. “Why would you come to see me? Are you truly a fool? Even my family don’t come here.”

“So, your family believes what you are?” Inwoo questions in lieu of an answer, satisfied by how Dongsik frowns deeply.

“There is not a single person who doesn’t. Just you. But I refuse to believe that. There is evidence. There is my confession. How can you have doubts about such blatant facts?”

“Maybe I just know better.”

“You don’t know me at all, Seo Inwoo-ssi.”

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself,” Inwoo requests. During the past four days, he was able to conclude that he needed to know more about Dongsik, as his previous assumptions of who the man is had been utterly incorrect. Inwoo will not be wrong about him a second time, and he will achieve what he is heavily considering setting out to do.

“Um…” Dongsik hesitates, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “I-I won’t.”

Blinking slowly, Inwoo raises an eyebrow. “Won’t?”

“Yes,” Dongsik nods. “I-I don’t see why it matters. No, I just don’t understand why you, you of all people, are here. A-and you want to know about me? The only important thing you need to know… ah, it’s obvious.”

“You’re right,” Inwoo agrees with a nod of his own. “Why am I, of all people, here to see you? Why am I interested in you? Why was I ever interested in you, when all I thought turned out to be fabrication.”

“Tell me.”

“I won’t,” Inwoo repeats, the corner of his lips lifting slightly.

Dongsik huffs, hanging his head. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t know. I thought that by coming here, I could perhaps figure it out. So far, I’m thinking this may be a waste of time,” Inwoo says honestly. “Why can’t you tell me?”

“Ah. I-I just… I won’t. There is nothing about me worth knowing. I’m just a sick, messed up individual, I don’t deserve your attention, I deserve to-to waste away behind bars. Alone, and forgotten.”

Everything else about Dongsik is fine, but his self-deprecation, the hatred he harbours for himself over things he hasn’t even done. It does nothing but get on Inwoo’s nerves. Every time it causes irritation to flare wildly within him, he has to question why he was dealing with this in the first place. How was it he was so intrigued to the point of obsession by this absolute dimwit.

“Tsk. I agree. I do have much better things to be devoting my time to. Would it not look bad for my image if I am to be caught visiting a convicted serial killer? The very one I allowed to be employed in my own company. Shall I leave, Dongsik-ssi, would that make you happy?”

Dongsik’s internal battle is clear in his eyes as he furrows his brow and bites down hard on his lip. He sags, shaking his head. “I-I’m sorry. It wouldn’t be good for you. I’m sorry you came out here because of me. Leave if you like, I won’t change my mind; I don’t deserve your attention.”

“Aish,” Inwoo mutters under his breath, quiet enough to be mistaken for a sigh. “You firmly believe you deserve this, don’t you.”

“Do you not?” Dongsik questions, confused. His head snaps back up, eyes widened a fraction. “I don’t understand you, Seo Inwoo-ssi. There’s conclusive evidence I am the killer, but you have doubts?”

“Mm-hmm,” Inwoo hums.

Dongsik’s eyes darken, tilting his head back, the psychopath costume slipping back on. Fake as it is, seeing it still sends a delighted shiver through Inwoo.

“Shall I tell you how I did it, then? All the ways I murdered my victims, every grizzly detail, would you like that? Would that make you believe me?” he asks.

Inwoo pulls off a fake grimace, pretending to be bothered by the idea. After all, he does still need to keep up appearances. This makes Dongsik smirk, showing a sliver of teeth. It’s not real, Inwoo reminds himself. No matter how much he wants to see the killer in Dongsik, it wouldn’t be true.

Not until he makes it. But from this visit, he has learned nothing. Not one single trait he could use, what weaknesses he could exploit, nothing to push Dongsik with. No way to send him in a free fall through the abyss. Inwoo should rattle him a bit, but how could he do so? There is nothing that could be done while he wastes away in this prison.

“Maybe you are not suffering enough, if you are still so proud to have committed several murders,” Inwoo comments. Only in the eyes of some.

“You see? You can’t doubt what I’m capable of now, surely,” Dongsik says.

Inwoo wants to laugh at such a pathetic attempt. “I have no doubts about what you’re capable of. What you’ve already done, that’s a different matter. Maybe you’re taking the fall for somebody? Maybe… somebody’s gaslighting you? Whatever the case, I cannot believe that you, Dongsik-ssi, have taken a single life.”

“B-but-“

Their time comes to an end. The guard rudely cuts Dongsik off with his announcement, already prepared to drag him off again. Inconsistent visitation time limits. Do the guards really have the right to decide when their time is up as they please?

As he is hauled to his feet, Dongsik levels Inwoo with a dark glare. “Maybe I’ll just need to prove it to you.”

Yes, Inwoo thinks, prove it. Give in to those dark impulses, take a life. You’ll feel better.

How unfortunate the circumstances are not right.

--

Another week goes by, Inwoo fills the time with contemplation. Untangle knots and see where each string leads. Still, he has no answers to his questions, which is nothing but infuriating. How is he supposed to plan and prepare when has no sense of direction. At the very least he should know what he wants to get out of this.

The next time Inwoo sees Dongsik, the man has a black eye and a split, swollen lip. The evidence of his misery brings no spark of joy within Inwoo, as he was expecting it would. He had wanted Dongsik to suffer, that was part of the reason for framing him. Was it not?

Leaning back in his uncomfortable chair, Inwoo lets out a hum. One that is to maintain the illusion of him being satisfied by Dongsik’s suffering, since the average (normal) person would like to know that a serial killer is getting what they deserve. Inwoo’s pretence has to be the right amount of believable, he’s supposed to be horrified by Dongsik, hate him for everything he’s done.

“Not being avoided anymore? Or did you have another… accident?” Inwoo asks as Dongsik shuffles to take his seat.

“Hello, Seo Inwoo-ssi. I… didn’t think you would be back,” Dongsik says, completely ignoring the question. Anyone else having the audacity to ignore him would have Inwoo grinding his teeth, resisting every urge to grab them and make sure they have nowhere else to put their attention. He is above them all, they have no place to treat him like he is less. For inexplicable reasons, Dongsik is different. The ignorance pleases Inwoo, admires the refusal to be intimidated.

“Why is that?” he asks back.

“It-it, ah you know, it’s been a week,” Dongsik mumbles.

“Yah, just how much free time do you think I have? How much of that time do you honestly think I would be willing to dedicate to you? I have already made the mistake of wasting my time on you, Dongsik-ssi, do not overestimate your own importance.”

“O-of course. You’re right.” Dongsik drops his head, the pitifulness of the act causing irritation to simmer under Inwoo’s skin. How sad, that Dongsik wastes all of his potential by allowing himself to be so pathetically passive. The other person that is hiding inside Dongsik, deep below the surface, would not let such blatant disrespect slide; he would bite back hard enough to split skin.

“I apologise for expecting so much from you, Director Seo.”

“Don’t. It’s only natural that you would expect someone lesser than you to hold you in such a high position of priority. After all, you’re a predator, the top of the chain. Everybody should bend to your every whim, don’t you think?” Inwoo decides to prompt him. The week of contemplation eventually brought Inwoo to the conclusion that he enjoyed bringing out the more confident, dark side of Yook Dongsik. Not just seeing it, but being the one to make it happen, almost like Inwoo owns him.

“I-Inwoo-ssi?” Dongsik stutters, taken aback.

“Does your act ever not get tiring?” he asks, deciding to slam his hand over all the buttons and drag his fingers down. He’ll hit the right ones eventually. “The entire nation knows what you are, but here you still cower behind your mask. Cling too tightly to your pushover persona. Are you not sick of it? There is no need to pretend anymore.”

“I-I don’t get it-“

“Aigoo, why don’t you just demand respect from me, Dongsik-ssi? Demand I come to see you more often, or tell me to never come again. Enough with the fake politeness, you have nothing to be afraid of, you are the predator.” Inwoo is not losing his patience.

Biting on his lip, Dongsik shakes his head vigorously. His ridiculous, currently greasy, curls bounce around his head, giving him the appearance of a puppy. It’s infuriating just how much of Dongsik is naturally soft.

“I’m-I’m not. I-I don’t want to be anymore. I’ve hurt enough people, I can’t take it anymore,” Dongsik says, voice thick with emotion.

“Do you expect anyone will believe that?” Inwoo tuts, frowning. “You’re a psychopath, you don’t feel regret or guilt for what you’ve done. You couldn’t be more proud of yourself, so what’s with this insistence on pretending otherwise? Are you so desperate to convince yourself that you didn’t enjoy it?”

“I’m not!” Dongsik insists, eyes now shimmering with unshed tears. “I’m truly over that life, Inwoo-ssi. I refuse to continue being that way and I shall welcome all punishment that comes my way.”

Gritting his teeth, Inwoo’s lips twitch from the agitation. Why Dongsik must be so difficult really grinds his gears. Everything would be much more simple if he were to get what he wants handed over on a silver platter, maybe served with Dongsik’s signature grin.

“Because your life is over, is that why? You cannot do anything from within these walls, so you’re giving it up? That surely must boil your blood, make you sick with agitation. All of these impulses building up, scratching at the surface of your skin, yet they have nowhere to go.”

“No! I just don’t want it anymore. I don’t understand why you’re saying these things.”

“I’m quite sure that’s not how it works. Unless… Oh, I am right, am I not? You’re truly incapable of killing somebody, and what you’re pretending to be is this ‘psycho killer’. Although, I can’t understand your motive.”

“I am, I have killed, I wrote about it in my diary, there was evidence proving that I murdered someone. Inwoo-ssi, why are you saying all of this?”

“Ah.” Inwoo shakes his head, drawing a breath through his teeth. “I suppose I’m just having a difficult time here. Accepting that the Yook Dongsik I thought I knew turned out to be a lie.”

“Is that… why you keep coming to visit me? To-to come to terms with things?” Dongsik questions. “Well, I’m sorry Inwoo-ssi. I tricked you, I tricked everybody. I-I even managed to trick myself…”

“You did,” Inwoo agrees. “However, I still think there was some truth behind it.”

“Tch. Don’t be so foolish.”

Inwoo lets out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. “Mmh. Maybe I do need to let go of this… fantasy.”

“Yes. The sooner you do so, the sooner you can stop coming here.”

“Do you not enjoy my visits, Dongsik-ssi? Does seeing me bother you?” Inwoo asks, feigning offence, tugging his lips down in mock disappointment.

“A-ah, no. I-I mean yes. I-I mean, no. No. I don’t enjoy them and think you would be much better off if you stopped coming.”

It’s clear this is an extent of his self-hatred, believing he deserves nothing but to suffer. How annoying. No, Dongsik could never be a predator, could never be exactly like Inwoo. He has no sense of self-importance, likely due to how he was raised, so it would not be easy to give him an ego boost. One could, through enough efforts, they could bring out his true potential and make him see just where he belongs.

For such an investment of devotion and time, Inwoo would need to be certain the outcome would be worth it. For now, he will carry on trying to chip away at Dongsik’s outer fuzzy shell. If he decides there is nothing underneath that is deserving of his efforts, he’ll stop. It won’t be a great loss, and he’ll have the perfect reason to explain his sudden absence – not that anybody would be asking.

Inwoo decides to ignore him. “What happened to you? Did someone hurt you, or did you take another fall?” he asks again.

“Er…” Dongsik takes a moment to catch up with the sudden topic change. “I um. W-well, y-you see, I decided to intervene a fight. I think the other prisoners here are needlessly mean to this guy. Aigoo, I just couldn’t sit back and watch,” he explains.

Internally, Inwoo grimaces. That simply wouldn’t do, if Dongsik had a tendency to step in and help someone in need, if he had a soft spot.

“I see. Part of your attempt at becoming a better person? I dread to think about what you did to those assailants.”

“O-oh, I didn’t do anything,” Dongsik admits through a nervous chuckle, grinning innocently, showing off his top row of teeth. They are as perfectly imperfect as they would be, for someone like him.

“Why not?” Inwoo wonders. “You can do what you like, here. There is no-one to hide from.”

“Th-that’s not exactly true. They can put me in solitary. I-I don’t like it in there, it smells awful and it’s impossible to sleep.”

“Ahh.” Inwoo nods like he understands. On some level, he does. Having lived in such a state of mind his entire life, be too afraid to take exactly what he wants from fear of consequence. Until he is sure he can get away with it, that is. On some level, his father’s advice was almost helpful, to find a better way.

“So, perhaps you should leave the other prisoners to their own battles? Don’t jump in if you’ll be punished for it, you have no right to,” Inwoo says.

“That’s… true. I was only let off with a warning this time, though! But that does mean the next time they’ll put me in solitary. Ah, how am I supposed to become better if I can’t even help people?”

“You see, that doesn’t make much sense to me; your victims were always poor, defenceless weak people. So, are you deciding to keep up your pushover act and help them, even in here? Or…”

Levelling Inwoo with a murder stare, Dongsik scowls. The way his curls fall over his forehead cast his eyes in shadow once he tilts his chin down the perfect number of degrees. Tendrils of joy coil around Inwoo, holding him tight. The topic of who Dongsik really is must be one of the right strings to pull.

The glimpse behind the mask is gone as quickly as it arrives, Dongsik’s scowl lessens, disappointment is poured down Inwoo’s throat.

--

This time around, Inwoo does not wait as long before making another visit to Yook Dongsik. He is making ground in his research, he knows it. So far, he has been able to conclude that Dongsik is sensitive about his identity. It may not be one of the right emotional sides that Inwoo is searching for, but it’s progress, nonetheless. Even one thing is better than nothing.

The pale blue walls and harsh yellow lights are becoming a familiar sight, Inwoo will be well acquainted with every bug hiding in all the corners of the room in no time, too. So far, the guard has been different during each visit, for which he is thankful. Perhaps if this turns out to be a greater investment, he will start looking into how he can have more private meetings with Dongsik, particularly for further down the line. It wouldn’t do for anyone to overhear them discussing topics of murder, or catching on to Inwoo’s subtle attempts at coaxing Dongsik to give in to his darker desires.

They are not there yet, but they will be.

Entering the room once more, Dongsik scoffs, making direct eye contact with Inwoo, who sits as relaxed as he can be on his chair.

“What’s the matter, Dongsik-ssi?” Inwoo asks.

“Are you here to talk about whether I’m a killer or not? Because if so, I think I’d rather refuse this visit,” he replies with that air of confidence Inwoo always appreciates experiencing. There is somebody underneath that soft flesh.

“I had something a little different in mind today. That is, if you are finally willing to tell me more about yourself. I am quite interested, I hope you know,” Inwoo says, knowing he isn’t making much progress with the aforementioned topic.

Dongsik relents, allowing himself to be guided and chained to the table. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, but you have to tell me why you’re so invested in me.”

“Didn’t I tell you last time, that I’m still trying to come to terms with the reality of who you are? I want to be able to let go of the soft Dongsik that I knew.”

“Somehow, I feel like there’s more to it than that,” Dongsik shakes his head. “Do you know, your interest in me has always been baffling. You don’t seem the type to be interested in pushovers and chumps, so what was so special about me?”

“Aren’t I supposed to be asking the questions? Hmm, maybe you could say I had a suspicion there was more to you than met the eye. Can’t say I expected what it was,” Inwoo answers honestly. What he hadn’t expected from Dongsik was the amnesia, and the idiot mistaking Inwoo’s diary for his own. Did he never have a proper self-evaluation? How could he think he was a psychopath with how emotional he is.

“I’m sorry to have disappointed you.” Dongsik bows his head, and while Inwoo likes it when people recognise he is above them, it feels like a grater against his skin when Dongsik does it. Even though Dongsik is right, he did disappoint Inwoo immensely. He hums noncommittally.

“Why don’t you tell me how this place is treating you; you don’t seem to be in any better condition since I last saw you.”

“Really? That’s what you want to know first?” Dongsik sighs. “It’s not… terrible, I guess? I mean, I hate it, the conditions are awful, everyone is obnoxious and smells bad, the food is indescribably bland. But it could be worse, for instance people could be trying to hurt me.”

“I’m sure that if they did, you would take care of it,” Inwoo says with a knowing smile.

“Can we just not talk about that, please?” Dongsik demands, the assertiveness in his tone causing Inwoo’s smile to spread.

Agreeing, Inwoo asks his next question. The previous night, he had done a little internet research and constructed a list of recommended basic questions to ask someone when getting to know them. Inwoo has never had to do this before, whenever a situation has required him to gain knowledge about someone it has always come naturally to him. With Dongsik, it’s different, something akin to trying to make a friend, which Inwoo does not have any experience with – he has better things to do. Acquaintances and people he can use for his own good, that’s a different story.

After he gets to the third, Dongsik cuts him off by bursting into a fit of giggles. Inwoo furrows his brow, a frown tugging at his lips. “What?”

“I apologise, it’s just… This feels a little silly. I mean, are we playing ‘twenty-one questions’? Ah, actually, that’s not such a bad idea. Shall I ask you things too, Inwoo-ssi?”

“I have a lot more than twenty-one questions,” Inwoo states dully, Dongsik laughs again.

“Wait, haven’t you heard of that game? It’s basic getting to know you stuff, I’m sure. We should do it next time; I’ll compose a list of things to ask you. Sorry, you can carry on.”

“Next time,” Inwoo mutters. “Fine. Why is it you didn’t kill Seo Jihoon?”

“I- w-what?” Slack jawed, Dongsik blinks rapidly, probably experiencing whiplash from the sudden topic change. Cheeks turning a light shade of red, he averts his gaze, to the floor, to the wall beside him, to the broken light in the corner of the room. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Please, don’t pretend Dongsik-ssi. Jihoon is an imbecile, yes, but to make that up? I know you were behind it, so why did you not finish the job?”

“I thought we weren’t talking about this,” Dongsik mumbles, still refusing to look at Inwoo, his embarrassed blush deepening.

Inwoo takes a glance at his watch. They weren’t going to have much time left. “Just satisfy my curiosity. It was my brother you were trying to kill, after all.”

Then, Dongsik finally looks Inwoo straight in the eyes. “I pitied him,” he admits in his icy tone. “In that moment, right as he was struggling for air, I realised that your brother was much too pathetic for me to kill. Sometimes I still think that he would have deserved it, in fact I probably should have done it. But with how weak he is deep down; he just wasn’t worth the problems his death would have caused.”

Sensible, understandable reasonings, similar to Inwoo’s own reasons for not taking his brother out of the picture. Yet, at the same time Dongsik must be somewhat dense. The Predator Killer’s targets were always weak and pathetic, yet Dongsik claims he felt pity for Jihoon? Those killer profiles, the one Dongsik thinks he is and the one he would really be, are not a match at all, how could he not see that.

“I suppose I should be grateful to you for not killing him,” Inwoo says, only partially meaning it. No matter how much he craves it, Jihoon’s death would bring nothing but chaos to Inwoo’s door. His father would accuse him of the murder, there would be many internal investigations, and someone just might be able to dig up damning dirt on Inwoo.

“You suppose?” Dongsik questions.

“Mh.” Inwoo nods. “He and I, we’re not very close at all. Alas, no matter how difficult it is between us, and how I wish he’d disappear at times, I would surely be devastated by his death.”

“Oh.” Dongsik looks back at the steel tabletop. “I- hmm. He-he accused you of putting me up to it, you know? It didn’t make any sense to me at the time, but now that you’ve told me a little about your relationship, I guess I can see it. How he might think you want him dead.”

“No, I would never wish death upon my little brother,” Inwoo lies easily. Another glance to his watch shows they have been here for almost ten minutes already. It’s only seconds afterwards the guard announces the end of the visitation.

Getting to his feet, Inwoo follows them both to the exit, causing them to stop. The guard examines Inwoo cautiously, while Dongsik raises his brow.

“Yah, Dongsik-ssi, stop looking down all the time.” Gently, he grabs Dongsik by the chin, tilting his head up to the angle he likes to see the most. “This is how you should be. It suits you better.”

“A-ah,” Dongsik stutters, a dark blush blooming across his face again. His head goes back down, but in an instant, he corrects himself. Inwoo almost allows himself to smile, but he doesn’t know why he wants to smile. Nor does he know why he reached out to touch Dongsik to begin with.

Chapter Text

“Sir?” calls the voice of Jo Yujin.

“Mh.” Inwoo hums, continuing to tap the end of his pen on the sleek black top of his desk.

“A-are- I mean, respectfully sir, did you listen to any of that?” Ms. Jo questions, hesitance lacing her tone. Good, it shows that she knows her place.

Pulling a breath between his teeth, Inwoo tilts his head to properly face his secretary. In truth, he had zoned out during her talk, mind overcome with thoughts of crimson liquid and curly hair. Since the first visit to Dongsik, the man had been plaguing Inwoo’s mind about as much as he had all those months ago, when Inwoo first found him. The thoughts have changed over this time, going from imagining what sort of person Dongsik is, to what he would look like coated in blood as he takes someone’s life. There is so much potential, Inwoo is desperate to break it all out, let the creature free of its shackles; it’s a good job he is a patient man.

“Go over it again,” Inwoo requests, forcing his distracting, though not unpleasant, thoughts to the side for the time being. As much as he had been desperate for this position in his company, there are still a few aspects which bores him to the bone. Business meetings for one thing, signing papers for another. His secretary reading out the itinerary when Inwoo would much rather be preparing for something else.

Ms. Jo does as asked, re-detailing Inwoo’s work duties to be covered for the day, finishing by dropping off papers for signing and reviews in respective piles. Already, Inwoo can feel the headache and longing to be elsewhere, and he can’t stop the corner of his mouth from down turning.

“Do you perhaps have my itinerary for the upcoming week?” he asks. If there was enough spare time, he would spread out the paperwork. Usually, he receives it in bulk every other day, due to whatever madman deciding that would make life easier.

“I’m afraid not, sir,” Ms. Jo replies.

“Get it for me and have it delivered by the end of the working day. If that is all, you may leave.”

The secretary bows and exits, leaving Inwoo to his thoughts. For a moment, he collects and organises his thoughts, filing them into categories so they don’t buzz around his head like a swarm of bees. Next, he reviews all the work he has set for the day, mentally mapping out his own schedule. For today he had lunch plans, but the time would have to be shifted due to a meeting in the early afternoon. Leaving early does always make Inwoo feel as though he is slacking off, it’s disgusting that thought of laziness, but these visits are becoming about as important as his work at Daehan.

It also occurs to him then, that Inwoo has been unable to make plans for his hobby for an unbearable length of time. The Dongsik Project takes up a lot of his time and mind these days, causing his simmering bloodlust to reach dangerously close to boiling point. As of yet, Inwoo has not even been able to create a new motif, knowing it to be unwise to carry on with that of the Predator Killer. For it wouldn’t do if anyone were to suspect that the true perpetrator wasn’t actually wasting away behind bars, or namely one police officer in specific. That happened to be another thing Inwoo had failed to take into consideration when making the choice to frame Dongsik for his crimes.

Which is all to be contemplated further at a different time. The time comes for Inwoo to head out, if he wanted to make his visit and arrive to the meeting on time. He turns his computer off, throws his coat on and steps outside the office. With a nod to Ms. Jo, he informs her that he will see her later, then taking his leave.

On his way to the penitentiary, Inwoo dares to disgrace himself further by making a stop at a café for takeout. Normally he would avoid such places, as they are for the working class, unless he’s trying to keep up appearances, or the establishment is of higher status. Specifically designed for people like him. Although, it goes without saying that they require reservations, which – making this decision on a whim – Inwoo doesn’t have the time for. Slipping on the mask of nice Seo Inwoo, he places an order, makes polite small talk and leaves a decent tip (decent in his eyes, the barista gawked with their jaw practically on the floor).

Continuing the remainder of the journey, Inwoo questions just when and how he came to decide that Yook Dongsik was worth getting things for. Not that long ago, Inwoo was all too content with forgetting about the man’s existence, letting him slowly die behind bars, as a lesser like him deserves. Now here he is, admitting that he regrets ever making that hasty decision and… could it be considered treating Dongsik? For certain, he isn’t going to receive anything nice in prison.

When he arrives and requests the visitation, as usual, the prison guard scrutinises the package Inwoo holds. A simple obstacle, with an even more simple solution. With a sly smile, Inwoo takes out his persuasion material, offering it to the guard. Feigning reluctance, the guard accepts, letting Inwoo past and putting through the visitation request.

For the first time, Dongsik appears eager for the visit as he is taken across the threshold. A restrained grin spreads his lips wide as he eyes Inwoo while getting his hands cuffed to the table.

“What’s got you, Dongsik-ssi?” Inwoo questions.

“Ah, well, it’s been a month since your first visit. I think I’m starting to get an idea of how serious you are about this. Also, you returned after what happened the last time, which totally means you’re willing to tell me about yourself,” he replies. Inwoo had never once thought he would ever use the word ‘sunshine’ to describe somebody’s smile. And the glimmer in Dongsik’s eyes is nothing but mischievous.

“You doubted my seriousness about you, about how I want to know you?”

“It’s impossible for me to not. I know you have much more important things to concern yourself with-"

“Hush,” Inwoo interrupts, holding up a hand to silence him. Firmly, Dongsik clamps his mouth shut, his teeth coming together with a ‘clack’. Still so submissive, so passive. That is an area in dire need to work, likely weaved with the layers Inwoo wishes to strip away. Needless to say, the confident psychopath act suits him far better.

Looking away from Dongsik, Inwoo slides the little brown paper bag across the table, letting it rest by Dongsik’s hands. Giving the guard a side-eye, Inwoo sees him more concerned with the phone in his grasp, and the blatant laziness nearly makes Inwoo roll his eyes.

“What’s that?” Dongsik asks, poorly concealing his curiosity. His fingers twitch as he restrains himself from reaching to touch the bag.

“For you, so please, don’t pretend you don’t want to look inside.”

With this permission, Dongsik fumbles to get the bag open, cringing at how it crinkles with the slightest touch, turning to see if it’s caught the guard’s attention. The anticipation that glitters in his eyes fades away, confusing taking its place as he stares at the contents. It’s fascinating to see how someone can express so many emotions, and how fast they can switch. Just how many expressions could Yook Dongsik make as he cuts someone open, makes them bleed?

“What…” Dongsik breathes as he gingerly extracts the small treat from its package. Turning it over in his hands, he eyes it suspiciously, then sends Inwoo his confused stare. “You got me a muffin?”

“I got you a muffin,” Inwoo confirms, nodding. The furrowed brow, pursed lips and light red dusted cheeks, shouldn’t delight him in the slightest. Yet he is filled with the need to do this again, buy Dongsik little niceties and study his expressions under a microscope.

“I-I-I can’t,” Dongsik shakes his head, setting the muffin down on the steel bacteria breeding ground. “I can’t have this, Inwoo-ssi, I’m not supposed to have nice things like this. I’m in prison to suffer! A-and you buy me a muffin…”

Resisting the intense urge to shake Dongsik for his absurdity, Inwoo reaches across the table. “Well, if that’s how you feel, I shall take it back and have it myself.”

“No!” Quickly, with such speed Inwoo has never seen from him before, Dongsik snatches the muffin back up, cradling it safely in his hands. “I want it. But I shouldn’t.”

“Says who? Ah, I see. You say so, because you don’t think you deserve it. Just have it, Dongsik-ssi, it’s only one muffin. I’m sure nobody is going to find out.” Or care.

Leaning forward in his chair, Dongsik mutters, “Thank you.” After partially peeling off the paper case, he nibbles on it, lips quivering slightly. Before long, he gives in, simply biting half off, letting out a groan.

“This is… the best thing I have had in so long!” he exclaims through his mouthful of sponge and chocolate chips. “But. Why?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry, but why did you buy this for me? N-not that I’m being ungrateful or anything! I just don’t understand you.”

This gives Inwoo pause. There was no thought behind buying the silly thing for Dongsik, just a split-second decision that he hadn’t paid much mind to. He’d wondered why he thought Dongsik was worth it, with no conclusion, but other than that, there was no questioning it.

“I don’t know,” Inwoo admits, tapping his fingertips on the table. Dongsik raises his brow.

“Really? I was getting the impression you had a reason for every insignificant thing. Actually, nothing seems insignificant when it comes to you. My gosh, I bet there is something, but you don’t want to admit it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Inwoo instantly denies with a scoff. “I don’t hide the reasons behind my actions, I’m not a coward who fears what others will think.” The only exception to this being his less than legal hobby. Until, of course, Inwoo has come to the point where he can freely share every detail with Dongsik without concern.

“Right, of course. I apologise.”

“Aish, Dongsik-ssi, stop apologising. Your chosen persona must have got to your head too much if you still fake this weakness even when you don’t need to. Who have you to please anymore? Everybody should know their place below you, apologise for nothing. Cut it out,” Inwoo says, unable to contain his irritation. That Dongsik annihilates his own potential, and very person, creates this irrational annoyance. It scratches at the surface under Inwoo’s skin, to witness such a waste.

“Yah, shouldn’t you be happy that I’m trying to embrace the pushover in place of the psychopath? Anybody else would, so why do you insist that I stop?”

“Because,” Inwoo clicks his tongue. “When I see somebody strong who plays the part of the weak, it gets on my nerves. Especially somebody who knows they are far better than that, choosing to blend into the background, it boils my blood. How could you allow yourself to fall into such ruin, you’re worthy of so much more.”

“Even… even if that person is a serial killer?” Dongsik questions, his voice small, gaze focusing on the half-eaten muffin in his hold.

“Mm-hmm, even still. You should not degrade yourself for anything, Dongsik-ssi. Be what you really are, you’ll feel better.”

“And what are you really, Inwoo-ssi?”

Chuckling darkly, he replies, “Finish your muffin.”

--

The thing is, Inwoo is not afraid of being honest about who he is with Dongsik. The only reason he has not yet allowed Dongsik to see behind that perfectly crafted mask, is that he isn’t ready for it. Not to say that Inwoo cares what Dongsik might think, nor does he have concern for how the man may feel about it. It’s purely selfish, in that it would completely ruin his plans. Inwoo must be content with only allowing mere glimpses through cracks, until they are able to perfectly understand one another.

Which is why he is completely fine with playing Dongsik’s silly little question game. It’s a good opportunity to get to know Dongsik as well, even if it’s pointless trivial facts like what his favourite species of fish is or his preferred dessert.

“All right, my turn again.” Dongsik takes a sip from the iced latte Inwoo brought over for him, learning during the last visit that it’s Dongsik’s favoured coffee. “Do you have a movie you could quote by heart?”

“No. I don’t watch films,” Inwoo answers. In fact, it’s highly probable that he hasn’t seen one since he was a child.

“Of course, you don’t. What a silly thing to ask.” Dongsik, correct with his statement, chews on the straw in his drink.

“I take it that means you do have one?” Inwoo glares as Dongsik continues to chew, fingers rapping off the grimy table surface, twitching with the impulse to snatch the entire cup away. “Stop doing that, you’ll ruin your teeth.”

“Well, it’s not like prison offers much dental care anyway,” Dongsik shrugs, taking out the straw, only to slide it back in the little hole in the lid. Over and over, the plastic making an unbearable scratching sound.

“Fine, if that’s going to be your defence, then how about I never bring you another one,” Inwoo threatens, grinning and reaching forward to take the drink from Dongsik.

“Yah, you can’t! I only get nice things from you, so you can’t take them away.”

“That is precisely the point, Dongsik-ssi. Think about how much power I have over you right now and how you’d best do as I say.” It’s meant as a humorous tease, but it’s still heavy with truth.

Dongsik’s eyes widen a fraction with worry, possibly thinking that Inwoo wouldn’t really dare follow through, pulling his latte as close to himself as is possible. To be honest, Inwoo is uncertain as to why he’s even been buying Dongsik these little things continuously. Especially as it requires him to bribe the guards every time. Giving money away isn’t necessarily the problem, it’s more that he’s feeding the lower-class people. Putting money into the pockets of those who need it, with their terrible salary, and in the eyes of some it could be seen as a good dead. Disgusting.

For the past week, just about, Inwoo has been considering an alternative. Wondering how it would cost, in multiple senses, to simply buy off the prison warden. Potentially gain unsupervised, extended, visits with Dongsik. There is all sorts to think about with that decision, such as how serious Inwoo is with an investment of that kind, if it would be worth it in the long run. If it would make him look suspicious if Dongsik were to give in to his darker impulses – would anybody working here even care?

Chances are, Inwoo will decide to go ahead with the idea, only if it starts looking like things are going to work out how he wants.

“I-ah, no, I don’t apologise! But I will stop. Only so I can keep getting more, not because I care about how it annoys you,” Dongsik says, lips spread in a self-satisfied grin. It’s wonderous, to see that Inwoo’s words are slowly taking effect. There is still lots of work to be done.

“It’s not because it annoys me,” Inwoo denies. “As I said, it will ruin your teeth. You’re still young, you don’t want that.”

“Aigoo, you expect me to believe that you really care about my teeth, Inwoo-ssi? That’s a joke. I saw how your eyebrows scrunched together and you had this look… Like you wanted to snatch it away, or maybe break my fingers. No wait, what would breaking my fingers solve?”

“Tch.” Inwoo averts his gaze. Is Dongsik a mind reader or what? There wasn’t any way that Inwoo allowed his face to be so readable. He is always the equivalent of a closed book, specifically the types with padlocks.

“Don’t try and deny it! Do you know what, if you do then I shall just chew the straw again…”

“And I’ll never bring you anything again,” Inwoo fires back, slightly amused by Dongsik’s attempt at threatening. Cute. Like a fledgling, he has plenty of growth left to go through.

“I guess that puts us at a stalemate. Unless…” Dongsik’s gaze pierces the side of Inwoo’s head, he can’t not turn to make direct eye contact, feeling the strength of it slip into his very being. Challenge glimmers in Dongsik’s eyes, mouth inching towards the straw. “…One of us is willing to compromise…”

“Yook Dongsik, don’t you dare.”

Still holding eye contact with Inwoo, the ferocity of the stare filling him up, Dongsik’s lips wrap around the tip of the straw. “Admit it, Inwoo-ssi.” Inwoo remains silent, Dongsik slowly bites down on the plastic, making more noise than is necessary. “Just one confession.”

“Stop being ridiculous, you sound like a priest. You wouldn’t risk your treats for this.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” Dongsik nibbles on the straw, Inwoo’s lip twitches. “Many people already made that mistake, and you know where they are now.”

The shine in his eyes darkens, his tone growing cold. The jerk must know by now what putting on the serial killer act does to Inwoo. The tendrils of delight that wrap around his body and cause a shiver to run up his spine, the fuzz that grows in his head and makes his eyelids flutter.

Just to imagine that version of Dongsik with his hands around someone’s throat, squeezing. Even to imagine his hands around Inwoo’s throat, pinning him in place, taking whatever it is he wants, completely without regard for how the other feels… Blood rushes to Inwoo’s chest, then face, and he has to clear his throat.

“Wah, Inwoo-ssi, was that… Are you blushing right now?” Dongsik exclaims, the heat in Inwoo’s cheeks intensifying, traveling farther down.

“Shut up,” is Inwoo’s pathetic defence, not that he could have one. It’s much too late to save the situation, the damage is done. Not even turning his head away would help, the ridiculous blush is burning his neck.

“Wow. Who knew the impressively well composed Seo Inwoo could be embarrassed?” Dongsik has the audacity to giggle. He is wrong, though, Inwoo is not embarrassed. Only he had some rather interesting thoughts that he will either ignore or dissect like an insect under a microscope. It’s been a while since an image like that has planted itself in Inwoo’s brain.

“There is no need to be,” Dongsik continues in response to Inwoo’s silence. “But if confessing has got you this worked up, then I won’t make you do it.”

Inwoo huffs. “You weren’t making me anyway.” Dongsik’s sly smile returns, but before he gets the chance to put his mouth on the straw, so chewed its split, Inwoo reaches over the table with incredible speed to pluck it away. The mixture of coffee and saliva that gets over his hand makes him cringe.

“I’m never bringing you an iced latte again,” he says with full sincerity.

“Whatever,” Dongsik replies, tone full of doubt. Has Inwoo become too soft on him? “Whose turn is it to ask a question?”

--

One may say that Inwoo was treating Dongsik like a science experiment. Complete degradation, Inwoo treats him very much like a person, but it is true in some respects. There is a book he keeps for taking notes on the progress regarding bringing Dongsik’s better side to the surface. All the strongest emotional parts to him, where he is and isn’t sensitive, areas of weakness that Inwoo intends to fortify. Self-confidence in particular; Dongsik is better when he’s assertive.

It's been weeks since this entire thing began, since Inwoo realised he made a mistake by framing Dongsik, and the most progress that has been made is Dongsik becoming more comfortable playing the part of serial killer in front of Inwoo. Slowly, irritatingly so, the persona is becoming the personality. Inwoo writes that down.

Additionally, he includes the few trivial details he learned of Dongsik during that day’s visit. Where he would take a trip to if he could, what cuisine he’d like to try for the first time (that he knows of, anyway). Things like that contribute nothing to Inwoo’s work, he allows them mostly because there are appearances he must still keep – the prison isn’t private and Dongsik remains unready. Admittedly, Inwoo is also developing a personal interest, on an intimate level perhaps, wants to know every detail of Dongsik down to the last atom no matter how inconsequential.

At what point down the line had Inwoo’s desire to know Dongsik as a predator develop into wanting to own him, to claim the man as his own? The possessiveness Inwoo felt beforehand, months ago, was mostly about his inexplicable hunger for someone like him. A mere ember in comparison to how he feels now. The thoughts haven’t much changed, they’ve intensified. It’s a point where, Inwoo thinks, he would like for more than just having someone like himself.

It's maddening, how Yook Dongsik drives Inwoo up the wall, buzzing in circles around his head. In multiple ways. He grates on Inwoo’s nerves enough it fills him with the urge to force a toothpick into his eye (impractical). His cold killer persona that brings out those interesting feelings, the pleasant buzzing and rush of blood. How dense he is that makes Inwoo want to slap him and spell reality out for him - Seo Inwoo is the Predator Killer, not Yook Dongsik. The latter doesn’t have the capability to harm the weak. Then there is the need to say that irritating, enigmatic, mixture of a man belongs to Inwoo.

Another note is taken. Unimportant to the research. Every way Dongsik makes Inwoo feel, and what he thinks about that. The answers mostly seem consistent in their meanings.

Seo Inwoo likes Yook Dongsik.

He isn’t quite sure what to do with that revelation.

Which version of Dongsik is it that he likes, anyway? The fantasy version he is working to bring into reality, or the very same person he had considered a lesser, an imbecile just mere weeks ago?

Heaving a sigh, Inwoo shuts the notebook. Carefully binds it with the leather string, slips it back into the drawer it lives in. Thoughts to evaluate another day. Now, he has something equally as important to do. The hobby that he had left to collect dust, in favour of giving Yook Dongsik his undivided attention – a gift not given lightly.

It's been much too long, the bloodlust digging into his nerves like thousands of tiny teeth biting down on him. Irritating, an itch unable to be scratched. How Inwoo hasn’t lost his patience, snapped and taken the life of someone on the spot is remarkable – it deserves a place in one of those world records books.

Two weeks Inwoo spent planning this. Selecting a new hunting area, scouring the grounds for the perfect prey. Then studying the selection, watching them like a hawk, waiting for the right time to swoop in and carry them off to have their life cut short and satisfy his hunger. The final piece of the plan, the decision Inwoo made, was playing a dangerous game.

Now that he has a firm grasp on how much he needs Dongsik, how quick to jump he had been to get him framed, Inwoo had settled on carrying on the Predator Killer motif. The requirement to have Dongsik around him at all times burns as furiously as the need to take life. There is no way to do so by legal means without framing someone else for his murders, but the chances of finding the perfect candidate a second time are molecular. Leaving the only other option, breaking Dongsik out of prison. Or more accurately, motivating Dongsik to break himself out.

Determined as he had been for his first time, Inwoo sets off to work. Attired in his discreet all black clothing, briefcase tightly in hand. The chosen area is a drive fifteen to twenty-five minutes away from Inwoo’s apartment complex, towards the outline of the city. Perfect for picking up people that won’t be missed, and dumping them in places they won’t be recognised. Under normal circumstances, the duration it takes for authorities to find the corpses are immaterial, but this is a special case and the attention of one officer in particular is required as a key factor in Inwoo’s scheme.

The prey of choice, a woman appearing to be mid to late thirties. Picked because her daily routine was the same, didn’t spend time with anyone outside of her place of work, and lived alone. Around her neck hung a chain with a gold wedding band, indicating remaining value for a past marriage. Whether she was widowed or divorced was unknown, but either work to help set the stage for a suicide. Inwoo plans to search the residence for further details on the prey’s personal life.

Exactly eight-thirty on the dot, Inwoo exits his car to set the plan in motion. The target enters the local convenience store to buy a ready-to-eat meal for dinner, as per her routine. Being in a low priority, outer town location, the store has no exterior security cameras, meaning it is plenty safe for Inwoo to use this for the place of abduction.

The prey walks out two minutes and seventeen seconds after entering, Inwoo crashes into her, sending her down to meet the asphalt. The first domino falls.

“Oh, dear, I apologise. I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, it seems.” Apologetic smile sewn perfectly in place, Inwoo extends a hand to help his victim to her feet. The contents of the blue plastic carrier bag have spilled across the ground. The ready-to-eat meal, a container of fruit and a bottled drink that leaks over the concrete from a small puncture.

“Ah, no, i-it’s my bad,” she stutters, accepting the proffered hand. Inwoo picks up her dropped items, frowning at the burst drink. “O-oh well, I didn’t need that anyway.”

“Nonsense. I should be more observant. Are you all right?” He keeps a hold of the bag, tossing the ruined beverage into the nearby trash.

The lady, the prey, examines her left palm, wincing. “Just a graze, it’s fine.”

“Hm.” Inwoo shakes his head. “That certainly won’t do. Allow me to make it up to you, I have a first aid kit in my car, I can tend to your wound for you.”

That entire scene had been an accident, but Inwoo was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth; he now has a more legitimate reason to get his victim inside his car.

“O-oh! Don’t trouble yourself. I can buy some bandages…” she trails off, eyeing up Inwoo, then the sleek black car that is so distinctly his it may as well have his name painted all over it.

“Please, I insist. It is the least I can do after causing your little tumble there,” Inwoo says, already guiding her to his car. She goes without reluctance, and Inwoo is no fool. He is beyond aware that his looks work as a natural charm, people tend to drop their guard almost instantly when they see him.

“W-well…” The passive attitude, clear lack of self-respect, reminds Inwoo of Dongsik a bit. How he had, too, been a pitiful waste of a creature, undeserving of everything Inwoo had to offer.

Tragically, Inwoo does need to use up his high-grade medical supplies on this meagre woman, this insect that serves no purpose to anything. The graze on her palm is cleaned with an alcohol pad, drawing out a hiss from the lady, then dressed with an appropriately sized patch.

“There,” Inwoo announces as he smooths out the creases and air pockets on the band-aid patch.

“Ah. Th-thank you, mister, you are very kind,” she responds, inspecting Inwoo’s work, gingerly running one fingertip along it, a pink tint dusting her cheeks.

“Can I give you a ride somewhere? Home? A friend’s?” Inwoo offers, tone heavily implying it is not a request, keeping up the polite smile, that one would realise doesn’t meet his eyes upon closer inspection.

“W-wha a-a ride? In-in this? I couldn’t possibly… And you’ve already done enough.”

“It’s no trouble, really.” As it’s no trouble getting her to accept the not-so-kind offer.

With his prey safely buckled in beside him, Inwoo bites his cheek to keep from grinning. People, especially the weak, are far too gullible, willing to accept any act of kindness towards them at face value. It’s as if these ants want to make Inwoo’s life easier. Although, admittedly it is entertaining when they put up as much fight as they can, desperate to cling to their waste of an existence.

Reaching over carefully, keeping his eyes on the road, Inwoo pops open the glove compartment.

“You lost yours earlier. Please, help yourself,” he gestures vaguely to the stash of spiked energy drinks.

“Are you sure? Well… Thank you, again,” she accepts far too easily it’s laughable. The cap snaps as she twists it open, then takes multiple gulps in one go. It never ceases to amuse Inwoo, the naïvety.

They ride in silence the rest of the way to this lady’s residence. Once they arrive, Inwoo subtly locks the doors as she throws out more words of gratitude and asks for his name.

He smiles as he says it, watching the drug starting to take effect, glazing her eyes with drowsiness. The lady bows, giving him her name, Kang Seonjin, in return. Then, she is reaching for the doorhandle, but by the time she realises it won’t open, the drug is taking her fully.

The last thing Kang Seonjin sees is Seo Inwoo’s elated, manic grin and the predatory gleam in his eyes.

Her head smacks off the dash with a loud ‘thump’. Inwoo allows the laugh that had been bubbling up to burst out, throwing his head back and bumping it off the headrest. This would probably be one of, if not the, easiest murders he has ever committed.

Composing himself, tucking his enthusiasm into little containers, Inwoo exits his car in order to investigate the prey’s apartment. The place itself is in as poor a state as anyone would imagine for a person of woefully low status. Preferably, Inwoo would very much like to escape the metaphorical grime as fast as he could, lest it stick to and taint him. Digging around deep, he discovers a capsule of medication for depression - excellent - and another for ADHD. Interesting, she didn’t appear to deal with either, that her method acting skills were as good as they had been. If anything, Inwoo had expected her to suffer from anxiety like many of the common people.

Grabbing both capsules, Inwoo sets them up on the small coffee table located in the living room. Fingers tingling from the thrill, he composes the suicide note, appropriately detailing this woman’s wish for death. Beside that, he cracks open the pill bottles, leaving enough of them tipped over the table surface to be believable. Then goes down the personal belongings, situated in where they would be typically found. With that set complete, a design nothing less than perfect, Inwoo grins self-satisfactorily and goes to play out the final act.

The disposal site is roughly an seven-minute drive from the victim’s home, putting it at an estimated forty-minute walk for someone of average speed. In addition to this, the area is close enough to catch the attention of the one desired. The murder and disposal method, Inwoo has already used but he hadn’t the care to look for new colours and paint a fresh original composition. The still very much breathing body would be deposited in the river, from a location secluded where no cameras – nor people – should be able to witness the scene.

Though it’s arguably one of the most believable methods, it’s a loss, a shame, as Inwoo would not be able to take this life with his own hands. The natural elements shall be doing so for him.

Breathing a content sigh, heat particles misting as it collides with the bitter air of early spring, Inwoo allows the sheer glee to run through his body, igniting every nerve ending. The adrenaline rush, the euphoria, of a successful, nothing could compare to. Transfixed, Inwoo watches as the flowing water ripples from where the body had been thrown, lapping gently against the bank.

The curtain falls, blocking out the stage, the last act at its end; Inwoo’s victim had drawn her final breath, the last domino touches the floor.

Lights from the city above glitter upon the water’s surface, painting a pretty, uplifting picture. A wonderful cover up of the dark canvas below. The pressure that had been crushing Inwoo, feeling like he had been underneath a hydraulic press, alleviates. His limbs, no longer weighted with bloodlust, feel light, his muscles untense and lungs expand wider. How exhilarating it could be, to accomplish such with Dongsik by his side.

Just that picture itself pours delight into Inwoo, the urge to rush the process and get Dongsik back out of the purgatory Inwoo had put him in, flows throw him like a flash flood. But Inwoo has spent the better part of three decades honing his patience, he is well practiced enough by now to not let those desires spill over and pool at his feet.

--

To begin with, Inwoo had been hesitant about this idea, lest it draw suspicion towards him if the other part of his plan came into reality. Now he can admit he is getting more than a little desperate. Wanting Dongsik all to himself and the simple privilege of being able to speak with him without a third pair of ears hearing everything exchanged between them. And the ability to say whatever he pleases without suspicion from an outside party and a potential report to authorities. For encouraging Dongsik to give in to his dark impulses and take a life if he so pleases.

In the warden’s office Inwoo sits, attempting to buy the man off to get what he wants. A silly, desperate and selfish man such as that would easily accept any way to get more money in their pockets, even if it means betraying the so-called justice system. A concept which has been broken since its creation, that nobody wants to admit has never worked. So, the put-on reluctance from the warden – Inwoo cannot care to recall the name of – is aggravating, grating his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

“This is the most I can offer you. It’s not as if I am asking for an impossibility.” Inwoo bites his tongue to keep from adding stop being so greedy.

“And your offer is most tempting, Mister Seo. But satisfy my curiosity here, Yook Dongsik is the most notorious killer of the year, perhaps even the decade, why do you want to have private meetings with him?” he questions, the smugness in his voice giving Inwoo the thought to cut out his tongue.

“Ah. Yook Dongsik is very important to me, that’s all you need to know. I’m paying you for your ignorance, after all.”

At the mention of payment, the warden runs the tip of his tongue across his lip, eyeing up the case Inwoo brought along with him. Tick-tock, he thinks as he glances at his watch, you’re wasting my time.

“So, no questions asked, no security guards and no cameras. Is that all you want? I’m sure that if you increase the sum, I could see about getting this prisoner out for you discreetly.”

Inwoo’s brow raises a fraction, mildly intrigued. Getting Dongsik out is the end goal, sure, but it’s much too early for that. He’s not ready to re-enter the world, he has not left the chrysalis. He doesn’t understand himself enough just yet, but he is so close, all Inwoo would need to do is give one last little prompt. Telling him to stop lying to everyone and himself has been working wonders, but he still strongly believes that he’s the Predator Killer and as long as he believes so, he will never kill anyone. His eyes need to be opened before he can get out of prison, or everything may come apart.

With a humourless chuckle, Inwoo shakes his head. “No need for such extremes. I am quite content with keeping Mister Yook where he belongs. I simply require unconditional time with him, as I highly value my privacy.”

“Of course, I understand.” The warden once more eyes the case, pursing his lips. Another minute ticks by. “You have yourself a deal.”

Wonderful. It was clear from the moment Inwoo first met this slimy man that getting what he wants would be no challenge. A sheep that’s pretended to be a wolf for so long it actually believes it. One of the types of weak Inwoo likes to kill the most, they just don’t learn or accept their place in the world. Spend too long trying to be something they’re not they forget, they live at the bottom, feeding off filth like bacteria.

Inwoo is guided along the corridors, lit by yellow buzzing lights overdue for replacements and walls coloured with cheap paint. It’s a mystery how he has been putting up with such a foul environment for so long without taking a bath in bleach. First, the warden has Dongsik summoned to the visitation room, then continues leading Inwoo over. When Dongsik is brought inside, he glances confusedly between the warden and Inwoo and he becomes the perfect definition of slack-jawed once the warden instructs the guard to uncuff Dongsik and leave the room.

“Inwoo-ssi, what have you done?” Dongsik hisses under his breath as soon as they are the only two in the room.

“Oh.” Inwoo frowns, pretending to be bothered by Dongsik’s blatant disapproval. “Would you rather not have unconditional visitation with me?”

“W-wh- u-unconditional?!”

“Mh.” Nodding, Inwoo sets down the bag he had brought along with him on the table the pair have sat at many times now. With this new freedom, Inwoo has again got to demonstrate remarkable restraint by not touching Dongsik in any way possible.

“Why?”

“I just want some privacy. Why must you act like it’s a horrible thing? Don’t pretend you aren’t thrilled. Come here.”

Slowly, Dongsik shuffles from the door over to Inwoo, refusing to look anywhere but the ground. Rolling his eyes, Inwoo grabs Dongsik by the chin, not harshly. Instantly, Dongsik recognises his mistake, the confidence of the person he tries to be coming to the surface as he raises his head himself. At a higher angle than is necessary, but no doubt flattering.

“This,” Inwoo starts, prying Dongsik’s hands apart to let them lay properly by his sides, pulling on his shoulders so Dongsik stops hunching them inwards. “This is how I always want to see you. I can’t stand to see you spoil yourself so, continuing to stick to that lie you crafted to blend in. Or is it that the costume sticks to you?”

“Inwoo-ssi, I didn’t realise you had a thing for serial killers.” Dongsik tilts his head away, cheeks a burning shade of red.

“A thing?” Inwoo raises one eyebrow, amused. The red deepens. “Here.”

Pulling out the contents of the bag, Inwoo sets them out across the table. A full on squeak escapes from Dongsik’s throat as he watches. For some reason, the word ‘adorable’ pops into Inwoo’s head.

“Did you… Bring an entire picnic? What the. W-wait, a-are you- is this-“ A strawberry is shoved between Dongsik’s pink lips, promptly shutting him up. His eyelids flutter as he sinks his teeth into the little red berry, his fingers coming up to push it farther into his mouth.

“I wanted to get you something nice. You’ve told me how poor the food in this place is. Oh, and I brought you this.” Inwoo shoves a thin cardboard box into Dongsik’s hand, containing a tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush and dental floss. The bafflement on the other man’s face as he pulls out those contents is comical.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” A beat, then his cheeks are scarlet once again. His line of focus snaps up to meet Inwoo, who is studying him with that same curiosity he has always harboured for the other man.

“Take a seat,” Inwoo commands, doing so himself. When done as told, Inwoo slides the iced latte he’d brought across the table, right into Dongsik’s eager hands.

“Liar,” he huffs a laugh, twirling the stupid straw around to mix the beverage.

“Indeed,” Inwoo agrees. Dongsik doesn’t even appear shocked by the easy admission, just grinning as he sucks the liquid through the plastic tube. Next, Inwoo slides across a paper box, lifting the lid to reveal what’s inside. Again, Dongsik’s eyes go wide as saucers, and Inwoo should really have brought his notebook to write down all the little expressions and how many times they’re made.

“You brought me a cake, too? Wait, is this-“

“Vanilla and cherry with coconut,” Inwoo finishes, drinking up Dongsik’s ecstatic smile.

“You really listen to all those useless facts I tell you about myself?”

“Of course I do, I value you a lot, anything you have to say is of great importance. I will listen to whatever you wish to speak about.” At Dongsik’s hesitance, Inwoo leans forward to take the box back, in order to break a piece of the sweet off and force it into the other’s mouth through some awkward stretching over the table.

“Mmh, this is so good,” Dongsik moans through his mouthful, eyes so glazed in delight they look as if they could melt right out of their sockets. Another note to add to the book.

“Now.” Inwoo leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Tell me about how you’ve been.”

“It’s been three days,” Dongsik states like it’s answer enough. He carries on nibbling the cake.

“Anything can happen in three days, and I want to hear about you.” Mostly, Inwoo just wants to know if anyone had come by to question Dongsik regarding the latest victim of the Predator Killer. It took the incompetent detectives five days to piece together the very easy puzzle, finding the note Inwoo had left on Kang Seonjin’s corpse and getting the finished image. He knows because of the few articles that had been released about it, although they had vanished as fast as they appeared.

Catch me, the note said simply, a taunt from the real killer that should have been clear to even a novice. An impulse decision, which may not have been wise, but a little bit daring, where Inwoo prefers to be subtle.

“Well, there is something. If you can believe it, somebody other than you came by to see me yesterday,” Dongsik informs, reaching out to grab one of the other containers Inwoo brought along. “One Shim Bokyung, who had some interesting questions for me. It’s still got me rather stressed out, or well, that I’m not quite sure what to believe anymore.”

“Believe about what?” Inwoo already knows. The doubt is settling in, just as he had planned for. It swims in Dongsik’s eyes, the uncertainty, the questions of his own reality.

Dongsik bites down on his bottom lip, capturing a flake of the chapped skin between his teeth. For a second, Inwoo thinks about biting it for him, then soothing the sting away with his tongue.

“She told me they found a body, a murder victim which they suspect is because of another copycat killer. It looked like suicide by drowning, but apparently they don’t have much evidence to support it since they couldn’t find anyone to identify her. Traces of some drug were found in her system, as well as a needle prick on her thumb and a two-word note. Officer Shim asked me if I had an accomplice or even got someone working to make me look innocent. She thought I had convinced Chilsung to do it! How crazy is that?”

Officer Shim is not entirely far off with her assumptions, Inwoo thinks. He takes a moment to study Dongsik’s face, mentally noting every last micro expression as the other man broods.

“I see. And why does this have you so stressed?”

“Geez, what sort of question is that? How could I not be? I’m sure that if I had an accomplice then I would have written about it. There are only two possibilities, one is that somebody out there is mimicking my killings, or… You were right all along. How you said that I’m not the killer, could it be true?” He heaves a sigh, dramatic as always, bumping his forehead on the tabletop.

“You already know what I believe about that matter.” Inwoo wants to reach out and run his hand through Dongsik’s curls. They’re probably a tangled, greasy mess.

“Then I guess you were right all along. I’m no killer, I’m just a loser who allowed myself to be used by someone and got framed for their crimes.” Using the chopsticks, he pokes the food in front of him around, cheek squished against the table and lips pouting.

“That isn’t at all what I think,” Inwoo corrects.

Dongsik’s head perks up, a question glinting in his tormented eyes. Giving in to his urges, Inwoo moves around to perch himself on the edge of the table beside Dongsik. He takes the chopsticks from the other’s hand, picking up some of the food he had been playing with and holds it out to him.

Blinking rapidly, Dongsik gapes, the sweet shade of pink returning to his hollowed cheeks. His gaze flickers between Inwoo and the offering between the chopsticks. The electricity in the low-quality lightbulbs buzz loudly, being the only sound to fill the room. Though, if Inwoo were to move closer, he would hear how Dongsik’s heart races, pounding against his ribcage.

Finally, he moves to take it between his lips, hesitant, as though unsure of what was happening. When Dongsik catches Inwoo’s satisfied smirk, the colour in his face deepens. The temptation to document all the ways to make Dongsik blush, make him flustered, tugs hard on Inwoo’s desires.

“It’s not that I think you’re no killer, in fact I know you’re capable. Only that you were mistaken, thinking you were somebody else and went after their targets. Think of when you didn’t do so, when you went after those you wanted, the ones who saw themselves above the weak. How that made you feel,” Inwoo continues.

Those like Seo Jihoon, who would have died had Dongsik not lost his nerve. Even the kind like Inwoo himself. He knows that Dongsik believes the people like that deserve to be killed.

“How do you know about that?” Dongsik’s brow raises considerably.

“Making an educated guess,” Inwoo admits.

It had been a hunch, after witnessing the spectacle that was the attempted murder of his brother, and hearing about how Dongsik had went after his department team leader, Kong Chanseok. Would dangling Nam Sungchul over the side of a rooftop count as one of those attempted murders, as well? There was likely more that Inwoo was unaware of.

Dongsik hums in acknowledgement, accepting Inwoo feeding him more. Only a second time, then he snatches the chopsticks back, his bottom lip sticking out as he scowls. Yes, it is adorable. A beat, then his brow knits together in question.

“How is it you understand me so well, Inwoo-ssi? You knew from the beginning that I could never hunt the weak like that, insisted that if I were a psychopath, I wouldn’t feel remorse for such a thing. That I was continuing to hide behind my pushover persona. If your certainty was not about me being the killer, how is it about  the fact I’m not a psychopath?”

Inwoo tilts his head, thinking. He could lie, use what he had crafted weeks ago in preparation for Dongsik asking that question before being ready for the truth. While that is the case still, they are not quite at the stage where they perfectly understand one another as Dongsik still has the remainder of his journey to make, Inwoo could be honest with him. It’s possible that the other man may not even be surprised, with how blatantly unbothered Inwoo is about him being a (potential) killer. The subtle encouragements to treat people how he sees fit that Dongsik surely must be stringing together by now.

In the end, Inwoo settles on taking parts from both choices. “I’m fairly knowledgeable on psychopaths as I’ve read a lot of material regarding them, so I can tell for a fact that you don’t fall into that category.” Not untrue, but it goes without saying that is not how Inwoo knows Dongsik isn’t a psychopath.

“Of course. You don’t like movies, but you like… whatever that is.” Dongsik’s attention returns to the cake, picking the slice into smaller pieces. He studies Inwoo from the corner of his eye, watching his gaze, his hands. Amused, Inwoo softly exhales a laugh.

“Yes. I find there are too many misconceptions in your fictive media for it to be enjoyable.”

“Well, it’s not supposed to be realistic. Although, you’re probably boring and wish for everything to be as close to real life as possible. Do you have an imagination?” After eating one of the cake pieces, Dongsik slurps loudly on his latte.

In actual fact, Inwoo has plenty of imagination. For example, he’s envisioned multiple scenarios of Dongsik killing, of the two of them killing together, Dongsik watching him kill. Inwoo has also imagined how perfect his life would be without his noodle-brain brother and overbearing prick of a father. He has imagined all the best ways to kill them both and how much he would enjoy it.

Perhaps Inwoo should write a piece of media. After all, he has the facts, the knowledge on being a serial killer and first-hand murder experience. It could be reality, spun to look like a simple work of fiction. Would Dongsik like that?

“I will have you know; I indulge in a fair number of fantasies,” Inwoo tells, feeling slightly ridiculous once the words have completed the journey out of his mouth.

Said fantasies primarily consisted of murder, and Dongsik, sure. But who needs to know that; who’s going to ask? What else should Inwoo daydream about, something as dull and generic as traveling, perhaps? What is it the average person imagines. Themselves in a better life, romantic endeavours, stuff like that. Seo Inwoo has far more interesting things to fill his mind up with.

“Such as what? Wait, actually, don’t tell me. The answer might scare me.”

Dongsik sneaks a glance up at Inwoo, their gazes connecting, and there is something that makes the rest of the world fall away. Already, they were the only two in the room, but now it can truly be felt as the atmosphere had quickly become charged. Like they had been packed up into a tight box together.

Smoothing the lip of his tongue along his lip, Dongsik’s eyes flit up and down. In just mere seconds, he looks as though he has fallen head-first into a daze, the tide of that endless abyss carrying him gently along. Has a daydream suddenly wrapped itself around him?

Inwoo’s own line of focus drops, from the vastness of Dongsik’s eyes to his partially parted lips. Red sore and damaged, from all the biting and lack of care due to imprisonment, Inwoo could fix that if he were to run his own tongue along them. Perhaps make his claim while he’s at it, devour Dongsik as he does in those fantasies. The thought makes heat pool in his gut, how interesting.

The thread of the moment feels endless, but eventually there is nothing left to keep them bound in that miniscule cut of time. What couldn’t have been any more than twenty seconds later, the fierce red makes a glorious return to Dongsik’s cheeks, and he snaps his head away. His throat is cleared so harsh it sounds sore, and the only thing bouncing off the walls of Inwoo’s mind is disappointing.

“Well, anyway, what sort of misconceptions did you mean?” Dongsik asks, voice rough, and he clears his throat again.

It takes a second for the words to register in Inwoo’s now cotton stuffed brain. Stupid Dongsik and stupid attraction.

“Ahh… How they convey psychopaths as mentally unstable, psychotic, impulsive killers.” Inwoo slips off the table, going back to sit in the other, uncomfortable as ever, chair.

The inaccuracies in the media’s portrayal of psychopaths should not bother him as it does. If anything, it’s helpful in making the viewers misinformed and blind, they wouldn’t know the truth about Inwoo because they would be looking for all the wrong traits. On the other hand, that also means you get uneducated buffoons (like Dongsik) that believe any killer is a serial killer and any one of those is a psychopath. It's the question of how they could be so wrong that gets Inwoo, have they not heard of basic research?

“So, it is just the misinformation on psychopaths? Not every thriller is about them, you know,” Dongsik replies with a slight roll of the eyes.

“Of course not. There is also the inaccuracies surrounding murder, how it’s made to look a lot easier than it would be in reality. Example: choking, asphyxiation, since it’s so commonly used. You’re not killing the person when they begin closing their eyes, they’re simply losing consciousness. In order to kill, you’d need to keep applying pressure until the heart stops which can take many minutes. It is far more likely a victim of strangulation would only suffer injuries and not death.”

Dongsik’s eyes have gone wide, mouth hanging open. He’s flabbergasted, lips working uselessly to form words. All the response Inwoo gets is an garbled string of consonants. So, perhaps Dongsik could still be surprised by Inwoo. Hopefully, he keeps that useful slice of information in mind. Inwoo had to learn through experience to not let go until the heart stops, now Dongsik is reliably educated and won’t get it wrong the first time he tries.

Chapter Text

The past ten weeks have been well-spent. As we are mid-way through the eleventh, I believe it safe to conclude that I have achieved much of which I set out to.

As stated in previous notes, Yook Dongsik did not know nor understand who he truly is in the beginning. He clung to my identity and that act of a coward, too afraid to accept what was lurking within, filled with self-hatred for all the crimes he believed to be responsible for. All has been corrected, he has come to see the truth of who he is and what it is he wants. He now knows, and is comfortable with the knowledge, that he is meant to take down individuals who see themselves at the top of the system and abuse the weak - people such as myself. That confidence of his that lay sleeping has taken control of his personality, as it should.

An apology has not fallen from his mouth in five weeks now, although there have been slip-ups and close calls. Despite my continuous assurances that he needn’t do so, he continues to second guess himself. It would seem that his upbringing, vicious reminders to be polite and respect others first, is a layer woven so tightly onto him, not even I have the capability to pick it apart.

Over the course of this project, Dongsik has learned to speak his mind, be honest, express how he truly feels. The assertive attitude is a wonderful look on him, like a perfectly tailored suit how would he look in one of those?. No longer does believe he must repent, nor does he fear the idea of being a killer, so long as he targets those he believes deserving of his wrath.

Shall I set up a test? No, I think I should leave him to finish that journey on his own. Killing must be done in his own time, to ensure he would not have a breakdown.

Ever since learning of his mistake, he has been asking me to request a fresh investigation. His motivation is not that he knows prison is not where he belongs, but rather that he wishes to fine the true Predator Killer – find me. Yook Dongsik has vowed to take care of killer, and his confidence and ease with the hunter inside of him is more than pleasing. He can find me and do as he wishes, I’d love to see

I now believe firmly that Dongsik is ready to re-enter the world as he has been reconstructed optimally, but I cannot allow for interference. That Shim Bokyung is sure to remind Dongsik of the kind nature within himself. It would only tempt him away from doing what he is meant to. She will have to be taken care of effectively, besides, she is too nosy for her own good. She is unfortunately an exceptional detective, I cannot allow her to discover the truth or get close to Dongsik and ruin everything I’ve done, meddling with what’s mine.

The matter of getting Yook Dongsik out of prison is one I have been planning for some time now. Already, I have made the first move, gaining the expected results. It has been four weeks since then, yet Dongsik does not appear motivated enough to do something. I worry that the only way to force his hand is by killing again.

Another choice is to set up someone else, making them take the fall. Those circumstances are not bound to happen a second time, I can’t count on finding the perfect idiot to use again. Dongsik must do something soon, this hunger I feel is insatiable, the only way it can be cured is when there is no barrier between him and I. I will fix it, I will have him by my side permanently, nothing will get in the way of this.

Inwoo binds the book shut, slipping it away home with great care. How much longer does he have to wait, it’s been so long. Aside from vowing to take down the real killer, Dongsik hasn’t seemed to care much about the fact that he’s serving a life sentence for someone else’s murders. Why had Inwoo been so rash with the decision to put Dongsik in prison in the first place?

Foolish, Seo Inwoo.

The past weeks have flown by, he has had a total of twenty-three visits, and his life feels as it had been before the entire framing situation. Regret was apparently a powerful motivator. Not that Inwoo harboured regret because he knew what he did was wrong – he still finds hilarity in how everything played out so perfectly, with such ease – but because of the lack it had left behind. Now, with a little correction, getting to know Dongsik instead of making groundless assumptions, that void has been filled. Leaving Inwoo feeling more complete than ever.

However, while it’s true that he has achieved much, there are still a few things he requires before his very existence could be considered one-hundred percent whole.

First, which is needless to say, he must have Dongsik to himself while they both understand each other wholly. To be able to lay himself bare, expose the true nature hidden by his lies and his acts, and be accepted. Then there is the matter of Inwoo’s family, who all must be dealt with accordingly like the pests they are. Perhaps the best way to do so would be by getting Dongsik to finish what he’d started.

Whatever happens, however it will play out, it’s all projects to be carried out at a later date.

--

 Today makes the twenty-fourth visit and the end of week eleven. Such a commitment, a large investment of time it’s been, but all ultimately worth it. The effects of Inwoo’s words and undivided attention are noticeable, even if Dongsik insists on keeping it hidden, letting things slip out like he thinks he’s playing a game with Inwoo. Some things, however, he cannot hide. Such as the sharpness of his grin, the dark glint in his eyes, the hatred in his voice as he speaks of those he wishes death upon – not that he says that part out right.

Dongsik enters the room looking like he’s come out of a boxing match. Bottom lip split and stitched back together, left eye so bruised it is quite literally black, cuts littering his face in odd places and a visibly broken nose. The sight doesn’t hurt Inwoo to see, it fills him up with a cold fury. He strides towards Dongsik before the door behind him even has a chance to close, firmly capturing his chin to assess the damage with the most piercing gaze he could muster. Maybe, he let a glimpse of the inner killer out into the open.

“Who did this?” he demands.

Dongsik scoffs, attempting to pull away. “Why does it matter? What do you think you can do about it? You’re powerless over the people in here, and besides, I can handle it on my own, thank you very much.” He uses his surprisingly vice-like grip to tear Inwoo’s hand away.

“Is that so? The evidence strongly suggests otherwise.”

“Aigoo, I didn’t know you could be so soft.” Dongsik slips past Inwoo, no doubt going to examine what had been brought along.

“What?” The question comes out pricklier than Inwoo had meant.

“I mean, look at you, all concerned for me, like you want to protect me or something. Ah, I’m not going to be able to drink this with my lip…” He sounds disappointed.

“I’m not concerned for you at all, and I don’t want to protect you.” It is simply that some low life dared to think they could get their hands all over Inwoo’s belongings, to damage his Dongsik’s pretty face.

In response, Dongsik attempts to raise one eyebrow, but he is unpractised, and the other goes up, making his eyes look wonky. If he realises, he doesn’t act, simply keeping up the poor expression of cool indifference. With his battered face, it looks ridiculous, he appears high on pain meds he had possibly been given. The prison healthcare service is not to be trusted.

“I’ll pretend I believe you. Anyway, I really can’t have this – couldn’t you have brought something cold? I’d love something fruity,” Dongsik sighs, going to peek inside the paper bag, but Inwoo is quick to snatch his wrist first. He gets sent a cold glare, the predator act, as he used to before he had any idea who Inwoo was. How eight months have changed so much.

“You can have what’s inside after you’ve told me what I want to know,” Inwoo says, tightening his grip for good measure. Dongsik, masking a grimace, tries to break free, Inwoo does not relent.

“Ahh, stop it, Inwoo-ya, I sprained that wrist!” Dongsik uses his other hand to pry Inwoo’s fingers off his skin.

They come away easy, Inwoo too distracted by the endearment, replaying it over in his head. Inwoo-ya, Inwoo-ya… Dongsik had not been given permission to address him so, who does he think he is? But the thing is, Inwoo is not even annoyed by it.

A soft call out quickly pulls him from that downward spiral. Blinking, he registers the rest of what Dongsik had said before.

“I see. I can grab the other instead, then.” His voice comes out strained, far removed from himself. No move is made to follow up with the threat. He doesn’t feel bad or anything like for hurting Dongsik, but there is something that rattles around within.

“Where did that fire go? You were totally ready to hurt someone just now… Ugh, fine, I’ll tell you about it. And not because I dislike seeing you so crestfallen.”

Sitting down with a groan and rubbing at his chest where he must additionally be hurt, Dongsik pushes the paper cup of hot coffee towards Inwoo. He takes it, testing different ways to sip from it while Dongsik begins his tale.

To absolutely nobody’s surprise, the inmates Dongsik had complained about before were to blame. According to him, he was so viciously attacked because he had told some other guy that they were imprisoned and falsely accused due to the same person (likely true). That person had been in solitary for a month, so it was the first opportunity Dongsik had to share the discovery since making it, and the attackers didn’t like two killers claiming their innocence.

Inwoo passes the drink back after giving a demonstration on how it could be consumed without upsetting Dongsik’s stitched lip. That would probably leave a scar. The need to get payback on the one responsible for permanently ruining Dongsik’s face runs fierce through Inwoo’s veins.

“These people bother you a lot,” Inwoo comments, as if it weren’t obvious. “Have I told you what I do when something bothers me? I take care of it. Stop letting your silly fear of consequence remand you still, Dongsik-ssi.”

Coffee runs down his chin as Dongsik attempts to drink, following the demonstration. He quickly wipes it off with the ball of his hand, hissing from the heat in his mouth. Staring at the plastic cap, then up at Inwoo, colour dusts his damaged cheeks.

“Guess I’m un-used to hot things… Uh, well, you have a point, but I’m not sure how I can do so.”

“I am certain that is not true. You said yourself that you could handle it.”

What was this, reluctance to hurt? Was Inwoo wrong about the status of progress? That couldn’t be the case, he’s seen the burning desire to deal with the Predator Killer behind Dongsik’s mesmerising eyes. Unless he had meant only to have the killer locked up. Was there something that had been yet again misinterpreted? Yook Dongsik, predictably unpredictable, still a mystery as always.

“I did, and I can. I’ll think of something eventually… Now, I’m pretty sure you’ve asked four questions, and I’ve asked three-“ Dongsik hungrily pulls the bag towards himself as he talks, eager for what awaits.

“Hold on now, those weren’t part of your little game – they don’t count.”

Inwoo is too late to stop Dongsik from getting his hands on the dessert. Weeks ago, Inwoo opted to keep bringing the sweet little treats, since Dongsik favoured them tacitly. Many times he complained about prison offering nothing of the kind, just a pot of horribly flavoured gelatine. Acting almost ungrateful towards anything savoury Inwoo thought he may like to try.

“Yes, they do. After all, it’s my little game, I make the rules. So, it is my turn now.” With a contemplative hum, Dongsik examines the slab of cake in his hands, a spread of cherry filling between a slice of vanilla and chocolate sponge. Flakes of dried coconut and vanilla frosting lay on top – Inwoo had it commissioned. The grin Dongsik splits into is sharp yet soft. “Did you make this?”

Let it be known that Inwoo does not feel self-conscious or suffer embarrassment, but with how Dongsik speaks and glares at him in such an accusatory manner, he does feel a slight need to defend himself. Even if this particular creation does not belong to him.

“So what if I did? Would that suddenly make it not good enough for you?” Inwoo questions, going too strong on the defensiveness, it makes him grimace.

“What, no, nothing like that. It’s just difficult to imagine you, prickly, cold, serial killer enthusiast, working away in your kitchen to bake a cake.”

Inwoo huffs. “Serial killer enthusiast… Is it not you who is a fanatic for all of those thriller films involving serial killers, or wannabe killers? That’s rhetorical, so it doesn’t count.”

“Yes, of course, but that’s fiction. It’s a completely different matter to be all…” Dongsik makes some vague gesture to all of Inwoo, who levels him with an unimpressed expression. “Well, anyway, I guess I’ll try this now.”

He breaks off a corner, far too small, like one would witness a food critique. It gives off the impression that he doesn’t trust it, a whole aura of hesitance. Inwoo is about to put it in his mouth for him, but Dongsik catches on to the idea fast, wolfing down the piece before Inwoo can even twitch.

A wonderous range of things crosses Dongsik’s expression as he chews meaningfully, they should have been documented with a video so Inwoo could savour it forever. He swallows with a pleased smile but there is a criticism on the tip of his tongue, the thought shines in those eyes, still an open book. The art of hiding his true feelings must be taught to him.

“Let’s hear it,” Inwoo prompts, tired of the prolonged silence as Dongsik has his inner debate. He could not really believe that his thoughts would hurt Inwoo’s feelings, or that Inwoo would reprimand him for whatever he may say.

“It’s nothing bad, I would say. Only… I think the sponge could be fluffier, and you definitely went too strong on the cherry. Eaten together, it overpowers the vanilla, and I don’t think there is enough cocoa powder. I’m just nit-picking,” Dongsik replies. He breaks off another small piece for Inwoo.

“That’s fine, I didn’t make it anyway.”

“You didn’t? But it’s got all the things…”

“I had it commissioned, just for you.” Inwoo stares at the small piece still being held out to him. “What, do you think I didn’t do a check on the quality to make sure it was good enough for you?”

“Even if you did, you’ve got to try it now to see what I’m on about. It’s a shame you didn’t make it, I think that would have been sweet of you. Not that this isn’t, I’m not being ungrateful! Just that, maybe it would be more personal? Ah, whatever. I’ll make something for you some time, I think you’ll really quite like it.”

While he babbles away, Inwoo does eat the cake, thinking about it long and hard. But cannot grasp an understanding of what Dongsik had meant.

“Presumptuous,” he remarks. “I can’t say I understand what you mean about the sponge.”

And for that, Dongsik goes on a tangent about his baking knowledge. Some facts about ingredients ratio, mixing times, how some flavours actually require longer time in an oven so one should avoid blending them together. Listing off American recipes he likes to work with. All useless knowledge to Inwoo, but somehow, he finds that listening to whatever rambles Dongsik has is not so bad as he’d found it before, when once it would irritate the living hell out of him, when that was Dongsik’s worst flaw.

“So, care to explain what I’m being presumptuous about?” Dongsik asks after finishing up the rant.

“That you think I would ever allow you to make a mess inside my kitchen.”

“It wouldn’t need to be yours. Ah, hang on, I suppose I’ve lost my apartment… There’s my parents’ place, but they’d only make a fuss. Ok, maybe would need to be yours, after all.”

“Besides that,” Inwoo continues, “You believe I would let you cook my meals?”

Dongsik, groaning, throws his head back in annoyance. There is also apparently a bruise on his neck Inwoo somehow missed, that had been hidden by the now over-grown curls – he needs a haircut as well as a good wash.

“Is this paranoia? Oh, maybe it’s not… Do you know, everybody acts like I’d be terrible at cooking. Or it could be they think I’m poisoning it, but that seems too unrealistic. Which is it for you?”

“I don’t think you’d do something like that to me. Not unless…” Dongsik knew the truth of Inwoo’s identity. Even then, he’d probably still be too soft-hearted to do anything to harm Inwoo, he thinks they’re friends. “I just know what I like, nobody else does, therefor I wouldn’t trust them to do anything to perfection.”

“Aigoo, do you have to be so dramatic? You can easily tell me what to do and observe to make sure I’m doing it to your liking. Ah, whatever. See if I make you that offer again.”

“Last time I checked, you’re serving a life sentence. How would you intend to prepare a meal for me while incarcerated? They surely wouldn’t allow you to use the kitchen facilities here.”

Humming, Dongsik takes this into consideration, or at least makes it out like that’s what he is doing. With a conspiratorial smirk, hanging on to a one-sided secret, he shrugs.

“If I had an idea, then I couldn’t tell you,” he says, in a way that heavily implies he does in fact have an idea. Trying to pry the answer from Dongsik would prove futile, all thanks to Inwoo’s efforts to peel back the skin of the pushover.

“Oh, no way you’re disappointed!” Dongsik adds, screwing up his face as he stares at Inwoo. Put-on concentration. “Inwoo-yah, you should not want to hear about a potential idea for me to get out of here. Unless, you don’t want me to be locked up?”

“Don’t say something so ludicrous, I believe a dangerous criminal like you belongs here. I’m glad to see you in your place,” Inwoo lies, selling it instantly just like every time he tells that exact one.

There is a certain technique he had perfected that gives off a very convincing illusion of sincerity. Always, it works a charm, but Dongsik seems to have trouble deciding what to believe. It’s unclear whether that is good or bad, as of yet.

“You must do it on purpose. Make yourself unreadable. I want to know what it is you have to hide. I’m piecing together an image, though. Some parts don’t fit quite right, but I am starting to see – who is Seo Inwoo really?” Dongsik flashes that cute grin of his, going back to finish the slab of cake he hadn’t seemed to be overly impressed with.

--

“We really cannot allow anyone to visit inmates in solitary confinement, unless it’s the authorities. It meddles with the punishment, you see,” The warden informs Inwoo, talking in a condescending tone, treating Inwoo like he’s lesser. As though somehow that one payment Inwoo had fed him meant either nothing, or that the warden was too good to be dealing with Inwoo.

He’d never thought anything pleasant of the man, in fact Dongsik was only just worth paying him for, but for this insolence Inwoo would very much like to snap a disk in half and use it to slit this weak creature’s throat. All of these insects that stand between him and his Dongsik, it’s aggravating.

“Tch. I see. How long will he be in there?” Inwoo asks, the false politeness hanging on by a thread. Any more of the attitude and he might just throttle the man in front of him.

“He almost killed a fellow inmate, the penalty for which is three months in solitary confinement,” the warden explains.

Oh. Now, that could very well be true, it’s not like Dongsik is incapable. It could also simply be that favouritism from the guards he’d mentioned. How all Dongsik has to do is defend himself for the people here to think he deserves punishment. Know the word of anyone here is unreliable, Inwoo chooses not to keep his hopes up. Even if the visual image of Dongsik attacking with the intent to kill has a laugh ready to burst.

In present company, he must pretend this new bothers him. “Ah. In which case, I agree it is for the best that he serves out his punishment. Thank you for your time, I’ll be leaving now.” He is out the door, all of them, faster than anyone could comprehend, moving at a seemingly unhuman speed. If he can’t see the one he desires, there is no need to stay inside the cold germ box any longer than necessary.

At least Inwoo is not coming away empty handed. A note can be taken of the possible attempted murder (and create many imaginings of it), add it to the list of progress. It was just last visit Inwoo had encouraged Dongsik to take care of his nuisances, it wasn’t a stretch to believe that it had helped. Although elating to know of the possibility he had tempted Dongsik into killing – willingly – at last, it’s… disappointing, perhaps, to also know he won’t get to learn the truth for himself for three months.

Now that Dongsik is in solitary, there is no way he’ll be able to make any moves to escape. The idiot, what was Inwoo supposed to do now? Couldn’t he have saved the murder attempts for when he wasn’t in prison? Perhaps something more drastic will have to be done, instead of leaving the entire task up to Dongsik. Without outright turning himself in, Inwoo could announce to everyone that the predator killer was not really Yook Dongsik, and was still out, around and killing people.

But Inwoo was not that desperate. Yet.

Arriving back at the office, Inwoo hopes he has his composed himself enough that the dejection and annoyance is not obvious. Sure, he’s perfected the art of acting, but sometimes things are too intense and slip through the miniscule cracks. Which is enough for any observant person to notice. It wouldn’t do for anyone to, that raises concern and concern comes with questions.

Secretary Jo Yujin is surprised to see Inwoo return from his lunch break so soon. It goes without saying, on the usual day he goes out, he’s gone for the full hour. Surprisingly, that had gone without question as it’s not something Inwoo had ever done prior to visiting Dongsik every time. In fact, he hated the mere idea of doing so. Slacking off, as if he were his brother, taking advantage of his position, having no care or respect for what he had.

“Sir,” she greets him, he dutifully returns it. Her gaze is roaming over his face, studying, consuming whatever detail she could. To escape the scrutiny, unwanted attention, and the unnecessary social interaction, Inwoo darts towards his office.

“Director Seo,” Ms. Jo calls after him before he can even lay a finger on the door. Inwoo suppresses the annoyance flowing through him that threatens to burst out. “There was a phone call for you earlier. A man claiming you left without finishing a business deal, and he’d like for you to call back.”

Yujin hands Inwoo a card slip with the person’s name and personal number. Inwoo almost scoffs as he reads the details, belonging to the prison warden. Such a greedy man, a sewer rat. Thinking he belongs in high society, that he is worthy of Inwoo’s time, can order him around and demand things from him. The same as any person of middle-class or lower that tries to get in Inwoo’s good graces. What a joke, he would love to snap the small creature’s neck.

“Thank you.” Fake pleasantries. Inwoo plasters on a smile as he pockets the card, pushing his thoughts into a box to be unpacked later. He is about to disappear into his office when the secretary prevents him from doing so again.

“I may be speaking out of turn, but… Is everything all right? Has she called it off?” Ms. Jo asks, seemingly unapologetic.

“What?”

“Ah, it’s just that you seem… Put down, perhaps, and you’ve returned from you lunch early.” Fantastic observation. “I apologise, but I’d thought your date had possibly broken things off.”

Of course. What is it with people and their keen interest in other people’s love lives? Making assumptions like this all the time. Have they nothing better to concern themselves with? So invasive.

“No. I will only be unable to see them for a while.” Inwoo won’t bother correcting the presumption of a romantic partner. Maybe it will keep any unwanted confessions at bay. He isn’t so blind that he doesn’t see Jo Yujin’s affections for him.

“I see. I apologise for intruding.” She sounds disappointed, and it pulls the corners of her lips downward a fraction. Ridiculous.

In the safety of his office, free from all aggravations, Inwoo turns the little card between his fingers. Contemplating, letting the build up of all he’s suffered throughout the day stew in his mind.

Eventually, the desk telephone is violently ripped off its holder and the number gets punched in. Without letting the desperation show through, Inwoo asks for the demands of the leech, finds the conditions ludicrous and promptly hangs up with an “I’ll think about it.”

This only adds to Inwoo’s salty mood. The desire to kill gnaws away at him, all while he’s slugging through the rest of the day. Reviewing and singing papers he only partially paid attention to, continuously checking the calendar, getting a couple of meetings re-arranged. There are department check-ups and performance reviews to be carried out, but he decides they can wait until a day he feels more presentable and up to the task, so are also rescheduled.

The only good news strikes him at the end of the day, about how anyone would expect. While he’s finishing up work, handing off signed papers, it’s playing on the department TV – designed for the sole purpose of displaying the news. It’s on breaking, displaying the mugshot of his pretty face before it had been spoiled by all the prison abuse he suffered, where he has the smirk of a self-satisfied killer, no ounce of remorse visible. Funny then, how he came to hate himself for it and sobbed about wanting to be punished.

Every worker in the department is gathered to listen, that Yook Dongsik escaped prison earlier that day and has been on the run for an unknown length of time. They have no idea at exactly what point he got out, showing the exemplary guarding system they have. Inwoo shall have to ask just how it was pulled off.

Ignoring the stares, the questions and concerns of workers, Inwoo strides back to his office, practically with a skip in his step. With Dongsik out at last, he’ll need to find him before anyone else. An excited grin is plastered on his face as he packs up to leave, he ends up biting down hard on his lip to prevent any laughter bursting forth. While the office may have been soundproofed, it remains a public space, and it wouldn’t do for anyone to catch him cackling like a madman when he’s supposed to be concerned for his life.

With everything sorted, coat thrown on hastily, Inwoo makes to exit the building, bidding a cursory farewell to Secretary Jo on his way. Safely inside his car, Inwoo does allow himself the fit of laughter that had been a battle to keep at bay, the absurdity and perfection of the situation too much to continue ignoring. Finally, Dongsik realised nothing would happen, nobody would help him, and took matters into his own hands.

Invigorating, just how unhinged he truly is.

Calming down at last, Inwoo starts up the car, wiping the wetness from his eyes. Once his vision has cleared, he shifts into gear and takes off, eager anticipation tingling under his skin. The short trip out of the parking garage is made, marking the start of the hunt. Inwoo’s first destination to scope out, knowing how Dongsik is an utter sentimental sap, is the Yook Meat Republic.

Only, Inwoo doesn’t make it even twenty seconds into the journey before slamming the breaks after the compulsory glance in the rear-view mirror. There, skulking around in the shadows, is the familiar lanky frame and mop of poodle hair. He’s staring at Inwoo’s car, and it almost feels as though they make direct eye contact in the mirror.

The car is reversed back to his location, then Inwoo leans across to pop open the passenger door. Now that he is closer, the filth that smothers Dongsik is plain to see, taunting Inwoo. It’s tempting to fetch a bucket of water to chuck over the man before allowing him entry to the car.

“Yah, have you lost your mind!?” Inwoo calls out, applying the false shock about the situation.

“It’s quite possible, but I didn’t have any other choice! I couldn’t continue to sit around just knowing the real killer is out there, and nobody is doing a thing about it. So, it’s up to you and me,” Dongsik replies, getting himself settled into the passenger seat.

“You and I? What exactly do you think I’m going to do?”

“Help me investigate. You’re smart, enough to help me catch a serial killer, probably the only one who can,” he explains, through a self-satisfied grin. The sanguine attitude is cute. Even coated in filth, he glows.

It’s funny, how close to the truth Dongsik is and yet so blind to it. Indeed, Inwoo is the only one who can help, but not for the reason he thinks.

“Mh, and what will you do once you catch him?” Inwoo wonders.

“I’d really like to…” Dongsik makes a choking gesture with his hands, before dropping them with a huff. “Agh, but if I kill him, then I won’t have the evidence I need to clear my name. How would I walk free, then? I need evidence, a confession.”

“What makes you think I’ll help you do that? You’re a highly dangerous criminal, possibly even the most wanted right now. I could get in serious trouble for helping you, in fact, it would be better for me to turn you in.”

Dongsik snorts. “Please, don’t act like you care about that. You’ve been dying for me to get out of prison, you haven’t been subtle at all about it.”

He’s got Inwoo there. No amount of pretending would make Dongsik think anything else, since he’s already seen the truth. Not that Inwoo was trying to hide it, he’d only thought Dongsik hadn’t picked it up.

Inwoo takes them back to his apartment, making a mental note to request the discreet erasure of the security footage later. The first thing he does is show Dongsik the bathroom, instructing him to take his time washing up. He has to demonstrate how the shower operates, because Dongsik stares at it like it’s some elaborate mechanism he’s never seen before. In fairness, he probably hasn’t.

Spare clothes are first brought to him, then he’s left to his own devices. While waiting, Inwoo goes about preparing his dinner, including extra for Dongsik. He thinks about the offer that had been made, wonders if Dongsik meant it when he retracted said offer. Maybe it would be nice to have him do something for them both. Inwoo will have to ask, at some point.

It's about forty minutes later when Dongsik re-emerges, sooner than Inwoo thought, most cloud following him out of the bathroom. The overgrowth of his hair is obvious now more than ever, with the damp locks flopping from his head like a mop, covering up his face down to the top of his mouth. The clothes, while expected not to fit perfectly given their size difference, hand off his frame a surprising amount. Still, Dongsik looks absolutely delighted, refreshed, showing off his sunshine smile as he swipes the hair out of the way.

“That was the best shower I have ever had in my life!” he comments, sauntering over to Inwoo like he belongs here. Maybe he does.

“Great. Don’t ever let yourself get dirty like that again, though. I don’t think I’d be able to handle it.”

“Ooh, do you have an aversion to dirt? Makes sense. But, I couldn’t help it! Do you know how I escaped? No, obviously you don’t. Would you like to? Wait, no, it would probably disgust you. What are you making?”

He bounces up like a happy puppy, looking over Inwoo’s work with eager interest. How can one be so stupidly adorable, yet cold, dangerous and borderline unhinged at the same time? Fascinating.

“Nothing exciting, just yukgaejang.”

Dongsik makes a small ‘oh’, Inwoo carries the finished dishes to the table. After gesturing for the other to sit, he grabs a jug of chilled water and two glasses. This particular choice of beverage seems to surprise Dongsik, who has his brow pulled together as Inwoo sets things down.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Ah, nothing, really. I was only expected you to whip out some fancy, expensive alcohol or something,” Dongsik admits, pushing his damp hair back out of his face.

“Implying that I have an alcoholic drink with all of my meals? Because, what, I’m wealthy?”

“N-no! Kind of. I had this particular image painted of… It doesn’t matter, forget about it.” Dongsik shakes his head, pulling his dish closer to dig in. Pleasant surprise crosses his features at the first taste, and he hungrily consumes more.

Their meal passes in a companionable silence, Dongsik finishing his within a handful of minutes. Too fast to have properly enjoyed it, surely, but it makes sense. He looks apologetic, eyeing up Inwoo’s own serving while trying to hide behind a glass of water.

Inwoo breathes a sigh. “Speak your mind, please. I can see that you want to.”

“Yes, right.” Dongsik nods, then drums his fingers on the tabletop, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, careful not to disturb the stitching. “I-it’s not asking too much… W-well, you see… Ugh, actually, no. It’s inconsiderate of me.”

“What do you think I’m going to do for your honesty? Punish you? I’d hoped you’d understand by now that I don’t want you to hide anything from me, and that I will never shun nor chastise you for speaking freely.”

With that, Inwoo pushes his unfinished dish across the table. Even though it’s what he had been wanting, Dongsik flounders, hesitant to accept it. How can someone be so un-used to receiving things? Inwoo walks over to his side, once again about to help. He holds out a spoonful, Dongsik accepts it, taking the utensil from Inwoo’s hand. The brush of their fingers was unnecessary, avoidable.

“I know you wouldn’t do anything of the sort, Inwoo-ya,” Dongsik eventually says, voice low, gazing up at Inwoo with softness in his eyes. While Inwoo loves the coldness of the predator that shines within them, he finds he doesn’t mind the clear, warm affection for him either.

Chapter Text

A few days go past without Dongsik actually taking any action, despite all his talk of hunting down the real killer. Instead, he had taken to gluing himself to Inwoo’s couch, which was “The comfiest thing I’ve felt in moths, maybe ever!”. Not that any of this comes from complaint, in fact having Dongsik around all the time, knowing that Inwoo would be coming home to him, was as sweet as it had been in every single fantasy.

Only thing is, he was under the impression that Dongsik would have a proper course of action planned and be jumping right into it. But all he’s done is lounge around, basking in the comforts of Inwoo’s luxuries, and not even being sorry about it.

Meanwhile, Inwoo had been about, keeping up appearances, making sure there would be no evidence of him taking Dongsik home. The security of the apartment building was deleted, along with what little was captured from Deahan Securities. Additionally, he’d been playing the part of concerned citizen, to keep away any potential suspicion. He paid a visit to Officer Shim after to inquire about the progress of the investigation (manhunt), selling his act of being worried about being a potential target of Dongsik. Extra security had been offered to have around Inwoo’s home, which he’d shut down hastily, then after negotiation ended up with security positioned outside Daehan – to protect not only him, but Dongsik’s former coworkers. Since there was a likelihood that if Dongsik were out for a killing spree, or whatever they think he’s doing, he would target that building and its staff first given the grudges he is presumed to have.

Inwoo also asked to receive future updates about the progress and promised to inform Officer Shim directly if he ever had information to give. The hope was that it all would be enough to keep him and Dongsik safe.

“What exactly is your plan from here?” Inwoo eventually asks, coming back from work to find Dongsik once again sprawled on the couch.

“Plan? Right… Honestly, I only got as far as escaping. I know what I want to do, but don’t know where to start. Do you have any suggestions?” He props himself up, resting his chin on the back of the couch, watching Inwoo as he puts his work things away.

“No. I can’t say I’ve ever tried to catch a serial killer before.”

Dongsik huffs more dramatically than is necessary. “It’s a shame I couldn’t get Bokyung-ssi’s help. She’d know what to do.”

“Yes, well, as it is, she would much rather send you back to prison,” Inwoo snaps, irritated by even the mention of her falling from Dongsik’s mouth. The closeness between those two had always been bothersome for Inwoo, and he isn’t immature and won’t pretend he doesn’t know why. Jealousy, plain and simple.

“Yes, I know, that’s what I’m saying! Ugh, the only idea I’ve had so far probably won’t even work. I don’t think it even counts as an idea. Did I make a mistake?”

“No,” Inwoo replies without missing a beat, Dongsik nods like he’d expected as much. “You have plenty of time to come up with something. I didn’t intend to make you feel rushed, I was merely curious. What was this idea of yours?”

“Terrible. I considered taking a page out of Nam Sungchul’s book – do you even remember him? That lunatic copycat killer who killed his own wife to get my- I mean, the real Predator Killer’s attention. I wonder if he got what he wanted…”

“Of course, I remember him,” Inwoo replies, coming to join Dongsik at last. That lunatic, as Dongsik had nicely put, the very person to open Inwoo’s eyes to reality and simultaneously ruined everything. How could he be forgotten? “What page are you referring to, here?”

“Uh, well… Using the killer’s methods to attract his attention, draw him out so we can meet?”

“You want to kill someone in order to catch him?” Inwoo speaks, perhaps letting his thrill at the idea be too obvious. “Sure. Why do you think that wouldn’t work?”

“First, I’d have to choose a victim that fits the motif. Innocent, poor, someone who doesn’t deserve to die simply because they were dealt a less fortunate hand, and that idiot doesn’t like it and wants to take advantage! Second, he might think I’m going on a prison break killing spree or something and ignore it. He probably won’t want to risk getting caught. Actually, there are many things I didn’t take into account with that idea.”

Dongsik sighs heavily, flopping over and resting his head on Inwoo’s shoulder. An attempt is made to push him off, but it comes as no surprise that he clings just like an octopus. If it were anyone else, Inwoo would choke them.

“What should I do?” Dongsik continues, voice grown soft, relaxed. “Maybe he’s even trying to seek me out, angry at me for stealing his identity and taking credit for his murders. Maybe he wants me dead for that.” Groaning, he buries his face deeper into Inwoo, wrapping an arm around him while he’s at it.

“If you want to try it anyway, I won’t stop you.” Inwoo’s fingers find their way into Dongsik’s fluffy curls, running through and pulling on them lightly. The scene could very well be called domestic, not a word Inwoo ever thought would be applied to his life.

“You know, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about you being so supportive of murder. I mean, is there some sort of fantasy you’d like to carry out? Weirdo.” His head perks up, eyes roaming all over and drinking in every detail of Inwoo’s features. Looking for something specific. Inwoo gladly leaves the pages open, yet Dongsik never seems to take in the text.

“Forget about how you’re supposed to and tell me how you do feel.”

Pursing his lips in thought, Dongsik continues trying to read what lays bare in front of him. “This is weird, but there is something about you I just can’t put together. You’re incomplete to me but I can’t figure out why. Who is Seo Inwoo really?” That last part he utters quietly, meant more for himself than Inwoo’s ever listening ears.

“I’m not hiding from you. I’ve been trying to let you see me since the beginning, yet you never have.”

The blindness (or maybe stupidity) did always prevent Dongsik from finishing the puzzle. Not even a particularly complex one. Could it be due to some deep subconscious reasoning that Inwoo doesn’t really believe in? Could it be that he is afraid of finally understanding what he’s seeing? He shouldn’t be, not anymore.

“Regarding how I feel…” Dongsik redirects the topic, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “It’s like… I enjoy it. I find it exhilarating but it also feels wrong, somehow. I’m kind of terrified at the same time.”

“Mm-hmm,” Inwoo hums in acknowledgement, his fingers moving from Dongsik’s soft hair to brush against his neck. It draws out a shiver, Inwoo keeps soaking up the heat under his fingertips, starving for the contact. As much as he will act otherwise, he truly isn’t opposed to Dongsik clinging to him for dear life, wishing to be as close as they could possibly get. “And is all this just about me being supportive of murder?”

Dongsik swallows, pressing his lips into a thin line. “N-no. It’s also because… I-I don’t remember killing before, obviously. It’s elating that I’ve tried, to know I hold that capability, I do like it, but it’s also terrifying. In case I haven’t done it yet, and I’ll be crossing that line for the first time and can’t ever come back from it. I’ll become somebody else when I do, then what if I get my memories back afterwards? Does that sound silly?”

“I do think it’s perfectly reasonable to have such anxiety about consciously killing for the first time. To feel conflicted about it. Even though it’s something you want, something you know you’ll enjoy, you worry about what will become of you. Not just in the sense of your being, but will you get away with it? And as you’re emotional, you worry about regretting it. So I’ll suggest going after somebody you believe, without a doubt, deserves it, to minimise any possible guilt. Whatever, but don’t go back to hiding, be true to who you are.”

“What if this is who I am? Pathetic and cowardly, playing pretend in a world I don’t really belong.”

“It isn’t. I know you; I’ve seen your true nature. That coward is but a shell resulted from your upbringing, it isn’t really what lies beneath.”

“Aww.” Dongsik cuddles closer, head coming to rest at the crook of Inwoo’s neck. “Look at you, with your reassurance. It’s sweet.”

“No. That isn’t supposed to be sweet,” Inwoo denies. “All I’m saying is I want you to see what I do and stop being so afraid.”

This makes Dongsik beam. His other arm comes around to trap Inwoo in a tight embrace. “But that is sweet! That ‘see yourself as I do’ thing, don’t you know what that means, or are you in denial that you have a soft side?”

“You’re twisting it deliberately. I don’t think telling you I see you as a capable killer and encouraging you to accept it is particularly sweet.”

“Maybe not if you were saying it to anyone else. But you’ve always been filling me up with assurances and boosting my confidence, so it’s caring in your own weird way. Be in denial about it, but I see the sentimental side of you, Inwoo-yah.” The manic grin spreading Dongsik’s lips is mildly alarming. He crowds farther into what little remains of Inwoo’s personal space, and he’s torn between delighting in it and wanted to get away.

Then, a small peck delivered to his lips halts his entire brain function, caught off guard, every thought screeching to a halt. All he can do is stare, uncomprehending of Dongsik’s expression of mischievous self-statisfaction, like a child committing a prank. Though it quickly changes to one of terror, regret, the colour red painting his face.

“O-oh dear, was that too far? Did I totally misread things?” Dongsik pulls his arms back to himself, starting to shift away. “I-Inwoo-yah, Inwoo, are you ok? Did I cross a line?”

Before he can get too far away, Inwoo’s brain does a jump start, springing him back into action, clamping both hands on either side of Dongsik’s face. He must think he’s in trouble, he looks terrified.

“I’ve told you that I won’t get upset with you for expressing how you feel,” Inwoo says, full sincerity. Nervously, Dongsik swallows with a nod, but his fears are quickly put to rest as Inwoo returns the gesture of affection. He holds more force behind it, not feeling that same need to be delicate, and doesn’t immediately pull away, keeping it going for all of five seconds.

“Um, w-what if I do or say something that really offends you?” Dongsik asks, trying very hard to pretend he isn’t flustered.

“Then I’ll be offended, but I won’t ever take it out on you,” Inwoo replies, surprising even himself with how much me means it.

Deciding he wants more, Inwoo moves in to capture Dongsik’s lips again. They’re not exactly soft, and the still-healing wound has taken the form of a bump that feels odd. Still, it feels good, as enjoyable as he always thought it’d be, and he doesn’t pass up the opportunity to run his tongue along Dongsik’s bottom lip. Fulfilling fantasies one by one.

“Then I suppose I can tell you that I like you. A lot.” Dongsik goes back to cuddling up once they break apart.

Everything is so close to being perfect, at last.

--

“Are you aware how appalling your book collection is?” Dongsik casually says. He’d really been taking advantage of Inwoo’s promise to not act out at anything he has to say. Criticism was thrown just about everywhere.

“Then stop browsing it. Philistine,” Inwoo replies, shooing Dongsik away.

“But I’m so bored! You’ve got no DVDs and won’t let me on your computer. I thought I could read something, but to my horror I discover you like ‘Twilight’?!” His face twists into a grimace, ever so expressive.

“If you wanted DVDs, you could have asked. Will getting some for you make you happy?” Inwoo asks, not because he cares about Dongsik’s happiness, but to spare the insults towards his interests.

As to be expected, Dongsik takes it the wrong way. The previous disgust is washed away, replaced by his delighted smile. Realising the error of word choice, Inwoo rolls his eyes, backing away before Dongsik can latch on to him with his octopus mode.

“Wanting to make me happy now? And you deny being soft.”

“Sometimes, you make me regret ever coming to visit you.” He doesn’t mean it, of course, which Dongsik is well aware of. He’d figured out pretty fast that Inwoo would experience some sense of loss without him, but he doesn’t fully understand why. He’s under the impression that Inwoo is a romantic but trying to hide it, with intense affectionate feelings. It isn’t the case at all.

“Yah, no, you gave me permission to be this way when you let me kiss you. Or when you kissed me back, even… Are we in a relationship?”

“Not at all. I hear acquaintances kiss each other on the mouth all the time,” Inwoo replies dryly. There had been a lot of kissing of that sort over the past four days, making up for lost time – no, just satisfying a hunger.

Dongsik doesn’t seem to appreciate the sarcasm this time, the saccharine expression falling away.

“You want a proper answer?” Inwoo guesses. “Fine. We can be whatever you want to be.” He punctuates this with another kiss to Dongsik’s lips, smirking as the blush creeps up. Out of everything he’s tried, this is Inwoo’s favourite way to make Dongsik flustered.

“A-ah, good. I’ve been worrying ever since that day. Just because you never said anything.”

“Nor did you. Expecting me to assume all responsibility in this? Tsk, you’re better than that, Dongsik-ah.”

“Listen, I don’t remember ever doing this before, so I don’t know how it works. Leaving it up to the one with experience seemed sensible.” Dongsik drapes himself over Inwoo’s back while the latter browses the internet on his tablet. He’s (they’re) in need of more groceries, since Dongsik had been insisting on playing chef and wanting to do something for them both.

“Why are you assuming I have relationship experience?”

“Wh-what? Are you implying that you’ve never been in a relationship before? Like, ever?”

Inwoo hands the tablet off to Dongsik to do as he likes. “Get yourself some DVDs, or digital versions if you prefer. And no, I haven’t. I’ve never been interested and never saw the point.” Nor has he ever understood everyone’s fixation with such a trivial frivolity. What little understanding he does have only goes as far as his father’s expectations for both him and Jihoon to get wives and have children to carry on the family bloodline and such. Perhaps Inwoo is fortunate in that a date and partner had never been forced upon him, the mere idea of such he’d always found meaningless and horrible. People’s investment in it were confusing, as was their shock whenever learning he had no partner.

Like now, Dongsik’s bewilderment makes no sense, Inwoo suppresses being outwardly annoyed by it.

“Never?” Dongsik exclaims. “But you’re… you know, you. I’d thought there would have been a line of people wanting to be with you. Haven’t you ever had anyone ask before?”

“Of course I have. Interest is not automatically mutual; one does not have to say yes. Every advance made on me has been shut down, as I’ve said, I don’t see the point.”

“Does that mean you’ve never liked anyone either? Ah, hang on, does that mean I’m-“

“Ok!” Inwoo clamps a hand over Dongsik’s mouth in order to silence him. “Never once have I cared for this sort of thing, it’s trivial and everyone’s interest is annoying. As it is, I am attracted to you and am fine having a relationship of that nature with you. I don’t want to hear any more about this, got it?” he clarifies, staring deep into Dongsik’s eyes to emphasise his seriousness.

Slowly, Dongsik nods his agreement, Inwoo removes his hand. Hoping it’s put an end to that, he believes it safe to back away, aiming for the kitchen so he can start making something for their dinner. His partner silently follows, cotton-padded footfalls tapping softly over the linoleum flooring.

“No, no, you stay back there and do your own thing.” Inwoo turns around, steering Dongsik back in the direction of the bookcase.

“But you said I could do something! It’s been four days.”

“And you can, when the ingredients you’ve requested have arrived. Just stay here while I work.” Inwoo doesn’t demand this because he wants Dongsik out the way, he quite loves having the other man around. Only because, that taking advantage of being told to express his thoughts is used prominently whenever Inwoo is dealing with food. Nagging him about everything, complaining about the overuse or lack of seasonings, mixing, food balances, Inwoo’s heavy usage of meat. While it’s useful having someone so rich with knowledge, it’s nerve grating to be nagged so insistently over something so inconsequential.

“Fine. I’ll just go back to browsing your so far horrendous book collection.” He keeps quiet for a few minutes while Inwoo flips through his book of meal recipes. It isn’t long before he pipes up again with, “What is that?” And Inwoo doesn’t need to look to know exactly what his sight has fixated upon.

“Do not touch it,” Inwoo warns, abandoning his current mission of dinner to re-join his partner. Right away, Dongsik snaps his hand back, cradling it to his chest as if burned.

“All right,” he says in surrender, shuffling back when Inwoo arrives at his side.

Just a few more things that are needed, he reminds himself, staring intensely at Dongsik, then the book. By now he must be ready to face reality, he’s been struggling with his puzzle of Inwoo’s identity. It’s irking him, being unable to see that complete image he has been constructing in his mind. If he isn’t ready, there is nothing to be done about it anyway. He’ll find out one way or another, he’s trapped himself and doesn’t even know. Every path leads back to Inwoo.

His fingers hover over the top of the book. “If I show you this, there is a high possibility you’ll… freak out.” To put it lightly.

It takes a moment for Dongsik to comprehend what is meant by that. “Oh! Well, uh, I mean if it’s a secret, you really don’t need to share it with me,” he responds once it’s clicked, gaze drifting down towards the book.

“I know that, but I want to.”

“Ok, then.”

Fingers gingerly brush the spine, travelling upwards to rest at the top. With one final look at Dongsik, taking in his eager expression, Inwoo makes up his mind. There will be no going back from this and it would be a great fortune if it doesn’t ruin something between them. Whatever the fallout, he only hopes it’ll be repairable. He’s been ready to share this part of himself for a while, everything is already written, only Dongsik needs to read it.

The book is pulled, mechanisms crank together, Dongsik’s jaw falls slack and eyes widen an amount that shouldn’t be possible. The expression exudes raw excitement, childish glee, while also looking like he wants to kick himself. When the penny drops, it’ll all be pulled away, caught in a current and drown, leaving a void in its wake.

Pushing past Inwoo with fervour, Dongsik exclaims, “Of course you have a secret room!” Needless to say, Inwoo cannot share his smile, not this time.

Though he had been dying for this moment to happen, now it has finally arrived all that occupies his mind is worry that everything will fall to ruin. Again. That Dongsik-shaped part of his soul will be torn away for the second time. How had he planted himself in so deep. How has he managed to drag Inwoo so deep down to the point of experiencing minor fear over the idea of loss? That sort of thing, Inwoo is not supposed to be capable of.

The eager apprehension has worn off quite completely. Inwoo now feels more compelled to protect what he already has instead of opening up this door for either more or to be pulled apart. He would have no problem withholding this piece of information for the rest of their days, if it meant he could keep Dongsik like this. But the idea of being complete and completed… While it dwindles, it still flickers. Like a flame of hope – how uncharacteristic for him.

“And you deny being a serial killer enthusiast. What do you call this? It looks a lot like a murder room of some sort. I mean, look at these.” Dongsik pulls one of the many bladed weapons off the wall to examine, tilting the silver blade this way and that, catching it in the light in ways that make it glimmer.

How could Dongsik possibly still be drawing the conclusion of enthusiast?

“Be careful with that, it’s sharpened to perfect so it’ll be very easy to slice yourself open on it,” Inwoo says. Even being aware of this having sharpened them himself, he has still managed to catch himself in places and end up with minor cuts after practicing.

“Are these just for decoration, or do you actually use them?” Dongsik questions, taking his chosen knife with him as he explores farther.

“I’ve used some of them,” Inwoo answers truthfully, noting with intrigue that it doesn’t faze Dongsik. Either he didn’t understand, or doesn’t care.

“I kind of want to chop something up with one. What else have you got in here? Is it just weapons?”

“For the most part.” It is where all the murdering equipment is kept, so Dongsik isn’t really wrong in his declaration of murder room. Obviously, there is the neat collection of notebooks and pens. Spare drugged beverages and the drugs themselves, the inconspicuous murder outfit…

“I don’t get it, though. If this is everything, what did you think I would be freaked out about? Worried how it would have made you look?” He still has no idea, glancing around like he’s missed some important detail. That detail just happens to be the room itself, only he is failing to connect the dots.

“Aish, at this point I’m becoming convinced this density is purposeful.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Inwoo shakes his head. He could pull out the notebooks at this rate and Dongsik still wouldn’t get it.

“Huh?” He blinks, tilting his head to the side. Eyes squinting as they do when they analyse, raking up and down Inwoo’s body, reading him for clues.

“I’m not going to spell this one out for you.” Adorable idiot. It’s exasperating. He watches intently as Dongsik’s eyes flit about, gears turning in his head, trying to re-arranged his pieces so they slot together without flaw.

Patiently still, somehow, Inwoo waits. The two of them cut off, drifting through the sea of time on their own little raft. It could very well be an eternity later they pass the horizon, falling over the edge as the light of realisation finally dawns on Dongsik.

A soft gasp slips past his lips, only just loud enough to be heard. “You’re… not an enthusiast at all, are you,” he states, words slow, filled with as much caution as one would have treading over ice. Not quite fearful, but delicate certainly, so as to avoid disaster by stepping in the wrong place.

Despite the agonisingly slow journey, he’s bleeding from the pace, Inwoo’s lips spread into a satisfied smirk at finally hearing the correct assessment. “Are things making sense now?” he wonders.

Looking conflicted, Dongsik nods once as though trying to help it all sink in. “Ok… That… It does make a lot of sense. Why you’re so supportive of murder, your whole interest in me probably, how you understood me so well. It wasn’t because you read books on psychopaths.”

“Correct. All the facts I needed is myself. But I have read numerous psychological studies. Interesting how their knowledge varies but is never able to completely sum me up.” Subtly, Inwoo moves closer to Dongsik, mimicry of a predator stalking its prey. Except Dongsik is no prey, not any more, and Inwoo is not out to hunt him. All he desires is the close proximity, being pulled into the orbit of the other man as he always has been. Unable to escape, no matter what has happened.

“You still seem to be missing one very important detail. I'm not just a serial killer.”

That has Dongsik’s features contorting in horror in an instant. “You…” His gaze snaps up, connecting with Inwoo, charging the air around them with the simmering anger that could be felt as much as it could be seen. “The real Predator Killer. It’s been you this whole time?!”

While Inwoo had been expecting a strong emotional response, Dongsik making a sudden lunge at him while swinging a deadly sharp knife was not on the list of potential outbursts. Since he isn’t well trained, that is to say not trained at all, his attack is dodged – only just. He tries again, Inwoo easily slips out of the way.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Inwoo questions, walking backwards as Dongsik approaches, fire roaring in his eyes. The sight of him so fuelled, driven with the intent to kill, is nothing short of magnificent.

The question goes ignored, Dongsik practically growls through the most feral expression Inwoo has ever seen on anyone as he makes another dive. Inwoo glides off to the side, positions himself behind Dongsik then slings an arm around his neck to grab him in a chokehold. All faster than the other man can register.

“Dongsik-ah, I advise getting yourself under control before you do something you’ll regret,” Inwoo cautions, going to take the weapon from Dongsik’s grasp.

“Right now, my only regret is ever trusting you.” An elbow is delivered firmly to Inwoo’s ribs, catching him off guard, powerful enough to cause him to release his hold. Pinpricks of pain surf through his chest, Dongsik snatches the chance to seize Inwoo by his lapels, spin their positions. Inwoo’s back collides with the nearest wall, the thump ringing in his ears, pulling a groan from his throat where Dongsik now holds the knife.

“Think hard about if this is what you really want. I know how emotional you are,” Inwoo advises, voice calm despite the current threat on his life. Even if there is a possibility he will die like this, exhilaration flows through his bloodstream, lighting up every nerve ending like he’s riding a high, causing his lips to curve up in a manic grin.

“Just shut up. You- augh, I cannot believe you have been lying to me for months!”

“I don’t really recall telling a lie. Withholding information, yes, but no lie has ever been uttered.”

“Pretending is lying.”

Inwoo shrugs. “Whatever you say. I was always planning on telling you, though. I only wanted to wait until you were ready.”

“Ready for what? To be killed like another one of your innocent, defenceless victims?” Dongsik presses the knife closer, resting it against the surface of Inwoo’s skin. “Was that the endgame here? Setting me up, leading me on, playing around until you got bored and killed me?”

“The endgame?” Inwoo echoes, pulling a breath between his teeth. “I’d tell you, but I have a suspicion you’re not in a listening mood and won’t believe a word of it.” He raises a hand to rest atop Dongsik’s holding the blade, putting an immediate stop to the shaking.

“What was all the pretending for? How long were you doing it? Was this all supposed to be payback for stealing your diary or something?”

Inwoo cannot help the ugly laugh that leaves him in the form of a snort. “Don’t be so absurd. Everything since the beginning has been as simple as being intrigued by you. That you happened to have stolen my diary was an unfortunate coincidence.”

“Then why did you keep visiting me? A-and if you knew I wasn’t really a killer, why did you keep up the encouragement? What do you want?” The demand comes out as a broken cry, Dongsik’s lip quivers, the muscles in his face strained while unshed tears glimmer in his bloodshot eyes.

“I want to explain everything to you, but not while you’re in a killing mood.” Inwoo tries prying the blade away from his throat, unfortunately coming face to face with Dongsik’s surprising strength.

“I really should kill you, it’s what you deserve,” Dongsik says through grit teeth, voice heavy with emotion, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall.

Inwoo releases his hold on Dongsik’s hand, tilting his head back to further expose his throat. “Go on, then, if it’s what you want.”

In fairness, Dongsik probably does try his best to do so. Grinding his jaw, white-knuckling the handle of the knife, eyes darting about like he’s having an internal argument. In the end, only a mere few drops of blood ooze from the thin split on Inwoo’s neck, the knife clatters to the ground and Dongsik backs away hyperventilating.

Filled with enough desire to kill, too sentimental to carry it out. If he came up against someone he didn’t have an emotional attachment to, would he finally go through with it? Not that Inwoo is complaining that he didn’t end up bleeding out on the floor.

He watches the other work through what could only be a panic attack for a moment, deciding it best if he’s left to gather himself alone. Any interference from Inwoo could make it worse, and while he doesn’t have sympathy or anything for the situation, he has enough respect (care) to not make the severity increase. Not just because he doesn’t know how to deal with such a thing, but because he doesn’t have the patience for it. Full transparency.

Eventually, Dongsik manages to clam himself down enough to spit out through tears, in one heavy breath, “Don’t talk to me.”

Seeing no problem with the demand, Inwoo agrees, though it’s likely it went unheard. Things sure were going to be tense between them for a while, now.

--

It takes up to two weeks. Shorter than Inwoo expected but still longer than he would have liked. Distance between them, no matter the kind, has become unbearable.

The time passes all full of awkward, heavy tension, quiet fury, animosity maybe, and the silent treatment. Only a few times had Inwoo tried to initiate conversation, for the simplest sake of asking Dongsik if he would be wanting dinner on two separate occasions. This, of course, was pointedly ignored and Dongsik prepared his own meals without a word and only when Inwoo was either preoccupied or not around. Though it hadn’t been terrible for the most part, since Inwoo had been wrapped up with work and decided to fall back on staying after hours, meaning he was out for fifteen hours, and asleep for five.

By this point in time, it has been over three weeks since Dongsik’s prison escape, the ongoing manhunt around the city for him beginning to fizzle. The extra security measures had been disbanded and the people working the case started to draw the conclusion Dongsik had either fled Seoul – so other stations around the country were put on alert – or he was dead. This, Inwoo attempts to inform Dongsik of after receiving the update from Officer Shim. The response he got was an amused huff, and Dongsik adjusting his position on the couch in an attempt to hide his growing smile from Inwoo who manages to catch it anyway.

Along with this was a lot of intense staring, from both ends. When Inwoo would return from the office at about nine-thirty PM, sit at his desk and glare at Dongsik instead of carrying on with work. Or Inwoo would be going about his own business and feel the heat of Dongsik’s piercing boring into the back of his skull. The loathing was strong enough to be tangible, creating a stuffy atmosphere within the apartment, but began to dwindle around the commencing of the second week.

The situation, while not ideal in any way, was far from the worst Inwoo has had to endure.

It all comes to an end precisely fourteen days after it began. While it’s past midnight and Inwoo is attempting to sleep, Dongsik creeps into the room. Padded footfalls tap gently on the ground while he tries sneaking, it switches off an alarm in Inwoo’s head. Carefully, so as not to alert Dongsik to him being awake, Inwoo’s hand creeps out toward the nightstand drawer where he has a handy switchblade stashed. The room is shrouded in darkness, so Inwoo can’t tell if Dongsik is armed, not that he’d need a weapon if his intention is to kill, anyway.

Up until this very moment, Inwoo held firmly onto the belief that Dongsik would never try to kill him in his sleep, with the ideology the fool was too soft, that whole dance in the secret room being the evidence. Right now, Inwoo is reprimanding himself for the idiocy, allowing himself to be openly vulnerable with Dongsik in the house for five hours every day, and not stuffing the switchblade under a pillow instead. Just as the footfalls stop by the side of the bed, Inwoo has managed to tightly wrap his fingers around the weapon. At the first ounce of pressure on the mattress, he springs into action.

Switching the blade out, darting forward to grab Dongsik and pin him down, while pressing the knife against his throat. Quite the role reversal, it brings out a humoured exhale. Dongsik, on the other hand, lets out a surprised yelp at the manhandling.

“Yah, Inwoo, what are you doing!?” he cries out.

“You finally decided to take action and thought you could rid me in my sleep?” Inwoo questions in lieu of an answer. His actions should be answer enough, but then again, Dongsik doesn’t seem to gifted with piecing things together.

“No! I’m unarmed – why have you got a knife next to your bed?”

“You know very well that you require no weapon to kill me if you so pleased.”

Huffing, Dongsik kicks at Inwoo hard enough to throw him off balance. Their positions are switched, Dongsik snatches the knife and tosses it away. Once again, Seo Inwoo finds himself caught by surprised from the surprising strength of Yook Dongsik.

“I’m not here to kill you, don’t be such a paranoid idiot,” he says, and Inwoo doesn’t need to see to know he’s rolling his eyes. “I only want to talk so I came to wake you, geez.”

“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“It is tomorrow, because it’s past midnight.”

With a sigh, Inwoo shakes his head from fond exasperation. Trust Dongsik to be one of those people. “Ok. Would you prefer continuing this in the dark, or would you like a light?”

“I think a light would make this more comfortable.” Dongsik releases his hold, starting to slip away, only for Inwoo to grab him by the hips. A sharp inhale echoes through the silence.

“You can stay there.”

“How can you possibly expect me to take anything seriously while like this? I don’t think you understand how maddening it is.” Dongsik tries to wriggle his way out of Inwoo’s grasp, the latter relenting with a disappointed sigh. He allows Dongsik to slip away, propping himself into a sitting position and turning the bedside lamp on. When the light hits him, Dongsik flinches, shielding his eyes.

“Ask your questions, then,” Inwoo prompts after the prolonged silence starts to become deafening, watching Dongsik simply fiddle with his fingers on his lap.

“Um, right, well, you know I want to know the whys. The reasons behind everything regarding me and us. I don’t want to hear about why you’re a killer though, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”

Getting to expose himself fully, unfiltered, laying out everything he has, it feels good, to put it simply. Detailing everything Dongsik has requested, from the infatuation at the beginning, to realising he had been fooled and was furious about it, the framing served as a sort of punishment. How quickly turned into a regret and wanting to instead help bring out Dongsik’s true nature. The genuity of his attraction – nothing was left out.

Having Dongsik listen, take it all in and not lash out in a fit of rage felt even better. No matter how beautiful the cold loathing looks on Dongsik, Inwoo doesn’t want it directed at him. He’d much prefer to see it towards a victim while Dongsik makes them bleed.

“Well,” Dongsik breathes a sigh when Inwoo wraps up the story, running his fingers through his messy hair. “That is a bit messed up. Not to be insulting, but I feel like there isn’t anything remotely normal about wanting to convert me into a killer. Especially so we can be together, or whatever.”

“Uh-uh, it wasn’t converting. I said it was helping you accept who you are, bring out the person you were trying your hardest to bury,” Inwoo corrects, which gets him the fourth eyeroll of the night.

“Whatever.”

“Don’t pretend it bothers you. Not long ago you were perfectly content with how good it makes you feel. So, don’t go back to trying to be someone you’re not, either.”

“Fine.”

“Is that really everything you have to say? Questioning my methods?” Inwoo asks, incredulously.

“For now; I’m still processing.”

“And you are no longer mad at me?”

To this, Dongsik purses his lips in thought. “I wouldn’t say I’m mad, not exactly, or completely.”

“Good. Because you’ve become quite the expensive investment, and I’m not prepared to let you go for anything.”

“But, while I’ve accepted everything that’s happened, I don’t know when or if I’ll forgive you. I mean, you pretty much ruined my life. Which would be understandable to anyone, but you’re you-“

“-And don’t need you to spell it out for me. Don’t worry, I am well aware of my actions and how they can be perceived as wrong. I’m not sorry and don’t regret it, though, so don’t get any expectations.”

“Yeah, I got it. Actually, I did a bit of research, after learning the password to your computer, so I have a little more knowledge about… people like you.”

“How did you learn my password?”

“Why is that your takeaway? I watched you, obviously. As I was saying, even though you have essentially ruined my life, I have accepted that I can’t change that, nor the fact that despite everything, I still like you.”

Inwoo can’t help it, the confession has his lips spreading into a wide grin, something akin to delight swelling in his chest. It’s all he’d been wanting, more or less, for Dongsik to know and accept him for who he really is, and still like him anyway. Everything is coming together at last, and Inwoo can live without Dongsik’s forgiveness, so long as he has the man himself.

“So, is there still doubt in your mind regarding how I feel for you?” Inwoo decides to ask, shuffling himself closer to Dongsik.

“Well, uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but I did try to find out if it was even possible for you to feel that way. The results were inconclusive, which you probably already knew. So, I’m going to believe that you do feel something but it’s just not the same as me, or rather, how the average person experiences… Not love, but you know… Y-you like me in your own way.”

“And you insisted I was secretly a romantic. You sound remarkably unlike the idiot I know,” Inwoo comments.

“We are having a serious discussion! I’m very capable of doing so, thank you very much,” Dongsik replies, blatantly feigning offence.

Humming his agreement, Inwoo plants his hands on either side of Dongsik’s face, pads of his thumb running up and down the smooth skin. There are a few light silver scars scattered around from all the prison abuse he’d suffered, the worst of course being the one that damages his bottom lip. It’s certainly going to remain uneven, but that isn’t what bothers Inwoo, it’s the fact that the cretin who dared to do such a thing remains perfectly fine and unpunished.

“I am allowed to touch you again, yes?” Inwoo asks, because while he does prefer to do as he pleases, he isn’t so disrespectful that he would break Dongsik’s boundaries. Funny how he wouldn’t have the same attitude for anyone else.

When Dongsik nods in affirmation, Inwoo wastes no time in connecting their lips. It isn’t exactly like crashing together, more like being pulled into the other’s orbit, stopping where he belongs. It has only been two weeks, but the lack of contact had Inwoo aching in ways he didn’t even know were possible, so it feels soothing to have Dongsik’s warmth against him again. He pours that starvation into the kiss, pushing the other back so he lays against the mattress, their position becoming a lot more comfortable.

They don’t last longer before Dongsik nudges Inwoo away, catching his breath, looking like he’s been struck with an epiphany. “Hold on, I’m not done dealing with your punishment,” he says, squirming to escape.

“Continue it tomorrow, I won’t complain.”

“No, no, I am dead set on denying you any sort of affection or even physical contact until you get me out of the mess you made.”

“Would that not also be denying yourself?” Inwoo chuckles when Dongsik scowls. “But, the framing situation, is that what you’re referring to? Indirectly turning you into a fugitive? To be honest, I planned to continue holding you hostage here for the rest of our days,” Inwoo jokes, but Dongsik is horrified to hear it.

“No way! I refuse to live like this forever. I miss feeling the sun and breathing fresh air, and I need a change of scenery or I will go mad.” He squirms some more, so Inwoo holds him down by the wrists.

“Go mad, I wouldn’t mind. But I was clearly joking.”

“Aigoo, not only are you a pathetic killer, but a pathetic comedian too. Nobody would find that funny.”

“Excuse you.”

“No, seriously, I mean it! You, Seo Inwoo, are a pathetic excuse for a predator and killer. Going after the poor, people who can’t fight back against you? You’re like a child that enjoys crushing snails.”

“I’m pretty sure I told you that I enjoy doing that,” Inwoo recalls, travelling back to that time he’d attempted to open himself with Dongsik for the first time. Only to be shot down, then find his diary in Dongsik’s possession a moment later.

“Is that supposed to be a defence? That only makes it worse. Really, your title should have been more like ‘the homicidal loser who only targets people below him because he’s weak’. It suits you much better,” he says, completely smug, through a shameless smirk.

“If you were anyone else, I would have you bled dry for that,” Inwoo states in turn, then presses another kiss to Dongsik’s lips because he finds it intoxicating.

“You gave me permission to say what I please, but good to know you don’t like hearing the truth.”

At that, Inwoo does finally let go, slipping away to turn off the light and settle himself back into bed. This has Dongsik letting out a chortle.

“Don’t think you can escape it. In fact, I will pester you with this as part of your punishment. Every day. Until you fix this,” Dongsik continues. Inwoo rolls around, grappling Dongsik down so they lay next to each other.

“Just, be quiet.”

“Ok, punishment commences tomorrow. And you better start thinking about how you’ll clear my name.” Dongsik settles himself in beside Inwoo, eager to soak up the contact he clearly missed as well. An arm snakes around him to pull him in and hold tight.

While they drift off in their own sea of reality, storm safely behind them, Inwoo’s mind can’t stop buzzing – just how would he get Dongsik out of the disaster he created?