Check A/N for TW.

When they arrive back to the quiet school, purged of its sins and blood for the night, Jaemin is in mere shambles.

He hadn't realized how late it was until they were off the train and he had dropped Yoonah at her room; thanking her for the night and the getaway. He walked down the halls with a giddy feeling growing in his chest. A sense of content that feels abnormal to be felt by someone like him.

When he reached his dorm, Jeno was already waiting for him.

He was laying on his unmade bed in the dark room, arms crossed as he stared at the ceiling contemplatively. He's dressed in leisure wear; a tight black tank top despite the cold weather and loose sweatpants. His platinum strands splayed across Jaemin's pillow, and when the door opened his sharp eyes met his, and his breath caught in his throat.

Jeno eyes him, gaze slowly trailing down his body with a raised brow.

"Fun night?"

Jaemin clutched the oversized bunny. "I'm sorry."

The blonde swiftly sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed. He rests his forearms against his thighs and tilts his head to the side. One cold eye is visible, and the rest of his face is covered by his platinum locks. "You're late."

Sharp teeth pull at his bottom lip. "I know."

His eyes land on the bunny in his arms, like a predator sizing up its prey. Jaemin tightens his grip around it when he notices the flash of anger glimmer in those eyes of his. Even in the dim lighting of his silent dorm room, he's been trained to notice this.

Interestingly enough, Jeno doesn't comment on the stuffed animal. Instead, he stands up from the creaky bed where they've shared so many nights in, and shoves his hands in his pockets, looking up at him under his bangs.

Here, he almost seems softer. In this pale lighting, he looks younger. The furrows of his brows are uncreased and instead replaced with a contemplative look. His bottom lip juts out in a pout, and his shoulders are hunched as he slouches slightly—a sign that he is comfortable enough in this presence to forgo his mask; his ego.

The moonlight peering from the open window shines behind him, outlining his figure in a pearlescent glow.

He looks innocent. Jaemin almost forgets about the blood stained under his nails. For a moment, all he sees is his best friend; his savior.

"You've been distant." Jeno mumbles, breaking contact and tucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

Jaemin feels his heart pang all too easily. "I've been busy."

"With her?" He sulks.

Jaemin drops the bunny, allowing it to sink into the floor, face first. He takes one step forward, then hesitates. "You know the answer to that."

The drive to Yongsan on the day of the Feast felt like it took forever. The roads seemed dreadfully longer, the wind bitter as it slapped his face. They sped through the hills of Yongsan, dressed in their best attire, four turkeys stuffed in their trunk and the unsettling feeling of anticipation settling deep into Jaemin's pounding chest.

"You're sure about this?" He asks from his seat in the passenger seat.

The wind caresses Jeno's hair in an elegant way unlike his own, and Jaemin wonders why everything seems to always be in his favor.

"Of course I'm sure," he sends a sharp look in his direction. "Don't tell me you're having second thoughts."

"No," Jaemin says immediately, defensively, reflexively. As if he had no control over his own words. "I just...want to make sure that you know what you're doing."

"It sounds like you're the one who isn't sure." He comments snarkily.

Jaemin furrows his brows, looking out at the rolling hills. "It feels wrong, Jeno." He murmurs.

Somehow, the other manages to hear him. He sighs and places an arm around the backside of Jaemin's seat, driving with one hand on the wheel leisurely. "What about this is right? Nothing. But if we dwell on the choices of our past, then we will have nothing for our future."

"She doesn't deserve this..." He finds himself mumbling.

Suddenly, the car comes to a screeching halt. On a winding road, the car stalls and they swing to the side before coming to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road. If anyone were to come up this hill at full speed, they'd no doubt hit them. If they were to have just swerved a little bit more toward the left, they would have been swept off the mountain. Jaemin is gasping, wide-eyed as Jeno stares down at him, his hand coming to grasp the back of his neck forcefully.

"Remind me again of our plan, little Raven." He seethes.

Jaemin is still panting, his hand resting over his pounding heart when he recites those vicious words wrapped in betrayal, whispered prettily in his ear from the afternoon, when they were still perched on his bed in his childhood room. "Trap the dove in her cage and seal the lock with our blood. If she thinks we have severed our connection to one another, then she will trust me fully. I will pluck her feathers until she has none, and cannot fly. Then I will let her free to fall."

"And?"

"Everything comes back to you. I will report to you every night. I will find her weakness and exploit them in your favor until she can no longer sing."

"Good."

He looks satisfied, but Jaemin is not.

"Why?"

Jeno restarts the car but does not move. "Why what?"

Jaemin sighs deeply. He wants to ask why he must do this, but he already knows the answer to it, and he doesn't like it.

Instead, he does what he does best: evade. "I don't want to hurt you." He looks towards his best friend with wide, innocent eyes. The kind that he knows Jeno loves.

The blonde coos softly and moves his hand from his neck to his chin. "Consider it part of your payment, little Raven. I don't want to hurt you either. I promise to go easy on you tonight."

"So will I."

"You can't," he snaps, his eyes hardening. His grip leaves his chin and rests his palm against the steering wheel. He begins driving down the hill again. "You must show her that you truly mean it."

Jaemin quickly interjects, even though a part of his heart races at the idea of letting everything out. "But I don't—"

Jeno holds a hand up. "I know I haven't been the greatest to you throughout the years, and I know you resent me for it," he turns slightly to see Jaemin's pleading face and shakes his head. "It's okay. Sometimes I hate me too," he shrugs. "And for this plan to work, if you truly want your debt to be repaid, it must be in her blood. I need you to sell it. Take out any grievance you've felt towards me and take it out on me. She must believe us, and if she doesn't, then you have failed me. Got it?"

With pursed lips, he nods and is silent for the rest of the ride.

This was the first time they've met since the 'fight'.

"Where did you go?" Jeno asks suddenly, sharply.

Silence. "Seoul."

More silence, then Jeno sucks in a sharp breath. "Did you—"

"No."

Jeno shakes his head, fury taking over his features. "She doesn't even know you. She should have known better—"

For some reason, Jaemin feels anger and steps forward, rounding in on Jeno. He boldly stares into his cold eyes, something he's never been able to do directly. "And how is she meant to know? I can't tell her!"

He's unsure where the sudden rage comes from, but he loathes the way it seems to please Jeno, with that cruel smirk of his. As if he always wanted this.

It reminds him all too well of his past.

If there's one thing about Jaemin, it's that he cannot stand still.

Of course, patience is a virtue, and it's what's kept him alive. He knows that. It is a vital part of this sadistic game that they play, and if he were to do without it, he'd be dead by now.

That doesn't mean that he will sit still, though.

On any mission that he's been tasked with, he has always moved swiftly and precisely. He must always be on the move, because if he is not then he fears he will fall back to a time where he was forced to stay still.

When they first arrived in Seoul, his mind went into overdrive. He was already wary enough about going to the city, because he had never intended on coming back, but couldn't come up with a good enough excuse without giving away the true reason. Plus, this would be a good opportunity to learn more about Yoonah—her likes, dislikes, her favorite foods.

He could have reasoned that he wanted to know those things because it could be valuable information for Jeno, but the truth is that he just wanted to know.

But those thoughts dispersed the moment they hopped off the train and stepped foot into Seoul.

Everything was overwhelming as Yoonah dragged him into the city, completely oblivious to the torture he was reliving.

The smells, the senses, the memories all came hurdling toward him and were suffocating him. He couldn't even understand what the hell Yoonah was rambling about because his mind was elsewhere. He did everything in his power to remain hyper-aware because if he didn't, he'd fall into that deep, endless pit void of any emotion; and that was hard to get out of.

He needed this to be a perfect day, yet his entire foundation was crumbling.

They passed the old dumpling house where the alleyway was, and Jaemin shivered.

"What does the little good boy want? Should we treat him to dumplings for being so obedient?" A man encrusted in the shadows cackled, sitting on the edge of a metal chair in the corner of the room. Jaemin thought of him as 'the watcher', because all he ever did was watch. He sees everything.

Jaemin was still hunched over in the corner of the rumbled bed, bare and shivering. He daringly looked up, which is normally forbidden. They don't normally like to look at his face after the fact. As if they felt guilty. "I want to go home." He mumbled.

The bulky man who lay in the center of the bed, shirtless, chuckled. "We still have you for an hour."

"But my mom said—"

He sent a glare towards him that said 'shut it, unless you want more work for yourself' and rose his arms above his head leisurely, resting against them. As if he didn't have a care in the world. Why would he, when he has a pretty boy at his beck and call and nobody had to know?

The man from the corner spoke, "Your mother owes us extra this week."

The other one snorted. "That druggie-whore is lucky she bore a pretty son."

Jaemin fights back a snarl. Never have they been so openly shameless about this...situation. He subconsciously wraps his arms around himself protectively, though he knows it will do no good. They're done for right now, but once they get bored he will go back to being their little mouse.

"C'mere, doll." The one from the shadows gestures toward him.

That's his call, and he reluctantly gets to work.

Jaemin blinks and suddenly realizes that Yoonah is right beside him, looking up at him with owlish eyes. His skin is crawling, desperate to shed the memories of his past. He feels trapped in this polluted city, with walls on each side, keeping him contained. He remembers what it feels like to want to leave but be forced to stay, and fights the urge to flee.

He inhales deeply, counts to three, then exhales before looking down at her. He realizes that he's been speaking to her this entire time, despite being in a completely different headspace, and wonders how the hell he managed that.

Then he remembers why he had to develop that skill and shivers crawl down his spine.

"You're so docile," a hand caressed his face, one of the rare times they were soft with him—only when he was being obedient. "So pretty. So good for us, doll."

Dark shadows hovered over him, and he felt a heavy weight settle over him. A sharp, piercing pain infiltrated his insides, and he fought the urge to roll over in agony. He heaved a harsh sigh and clenched his eyes shut, forcing this to all go away.

They were still there, but he was not. When he closed his eyes and filtered out the heavy breathing and sighs of ecstasy, he went somewhere else. His body responded, he probably responded to them to keep them pleased, as he was supposed to do, but he wasn't aware of it. Of the things they said, the things he responded to, what he agreed with.

The boy who took it like a doll and did as they pleased wasn't him anymore.

Na Jaemin was gone in that very moment.

He went somewhere far, far away. Hollow and cracked; broken. A depthless drift, floating in the middle of something and nothing. He was all too aware and dreadfully unaware at the same time. Somewhere in the dark, hearing the whispers of their sins and wrongdoings haunting him, while simultaneously blurring them out.

Everything was blurry and hazy; it was dizzying.

Na Jaemin wouldn't come back to the surface until all was done, and he didn't have to face what he had done.

That was how Na Jaemin learned to be somewhere where he is not.

"Do you want to go home?" Yoonah's voice comes out muffled at first until Jaemin blinks rapidly again.

He sighs deeply. He was getting too far into his head to the point where he wasn't sure if he could keep coming back. His hands were shaking, and he dutifully hid them behind his back before looking into her eyes.

Her dark, doe eyes filled with concern and possibly...understanding? It filled him with warmth while making his skin itch all at the same time.

He hated it. He hated that he could not just feel normal. He hated that he felt anything at all.

He sighs and shakes his head, wishing that just for once, he could just be in control of his body. But that right was taken away from him a long time ago.

"No," he looks at her with wide, unsure eyes. "What did you have planned?"

To put all the power and control in her hands and allow her to guide him meant more than he thinks she realized, and at this point, he wasn't sure if he was doing it for himself or for the mission's sake.

Well, even if it benefits both, what's the harm?

Jeno raises his chin and raises a brow. "Do you want to tell her?"

Jaemin falters, falling back on his foot. "I-I don't know."

"I promised you I'd make it all go away," Jeno says, softer this time, and steps forward.

Jaemin allows it, resting one hand on his bicep protectively. "You can't erase what has already been done."

"No," Jeno's hand falls onto his shoulder, trails his fingertips against the outline until it reaches his collarbone, where he pauses and looks up at him with soft eyes, mouth slightly agape in consideration. "I can't." He whispers.

Jaemin shudders.

The blonde rests his forehead against his gently, eyes boring into his, searching for something. "I missed you." He mumbles.

He's searching for something in those cold eyes of his too—an answer. His heart is racing and his hands are shaking as they come up to rest on Jeno's shoulder.

Jeno lifts his chin with his fingertips. There's lust in his eyes, something that Jaemin normally only sees when he kills. When he has a craving for blood. "Did you miss me too?"

He furrows his brows as his eyes narrow in on his exposed collarbone. Basking in the silver moonlight, his own initials lay in the crevice of Jeno's clavicle. It still wasn't completely healed, the skin raised and red in irritation as his initials begin scabbing over. He gasps softly, his hand coming to trace the sore tissue around the scar.

He did that.

He laid his mark on Jeno for eternity, just as he had done to him.

Jeno sucks in a sharp breath and curses under his breath. Suddenly, he pushes Jaemin away with a force too strong, and he stumbles back, tripping over and falling right onto his bed, which plummets under his weight.

Jaemin forces himself to sit still, out of habit and ignores the sharp pain in his chest. Jeno is standing above him with an expression filled with disgust (is he imagining it or is it actually there?). It's all too familiar—it makes him sick to his stomach.

Just when he thinks he's about to relive his memories, Jeno scoffs and shakes his head. Gone is his best friend. Back is the lion king, ready to shred anything that gets in his way of the throne. Even if that means his own feelings.

He turns his back towards him and looks over his shoulder. "Do not forget who you belong to."

And then he's out of the dorm. The door slams shut behind him and encompasses Jaemin in pure darkness.

Only then can he finally acknowledge his heavy breaths and shaking hands. He quickly stands from his bed, albeit a little wobbly, and navigates through his messy room before reaching the bathroom. He doesn't flick on the light, because he can't bare to see his reflection right now.

He falls to his knees before the toilet and heaves until his throat is raw and burning.

Tears coat his cheeks and everything hurts. His head is pounding, and his throat feels like rough sandpaper, which only makes him wretch more because it reminds him of when he was forced to take it.

Why? He finds himself wondering. Why must I be like this?

He is ridden with guilt. Guilty of actively betraying Yoonah—a girl who is even more innocent than he was. Who is he if he is willing to taint her with blood and deception? How is he any better than those men who took advantage of him, who felt nothing when they stripped away parts of himself, one piece at a time.

He is doing the same to her. Yet still, he cannot find it in himself to betray Jeno.

Jeno, his best friend.

Jeno, his savior.

Jeno, the man who solved all of his problems.

Jeno, the man who never hesitated to get his hand dirty in favor of Jaemin.

Jeno, who is death himself.

Jeno, Jeno, Jeno, Jeno, Jeno.

Death fears him, and if Jaemin were to go against him, then surely death will come to him.

It should have come to him years ago.

Sometimes, he wishes it would already.

Who is he, if not somebody else's?

Never has he been in control of his own body or choices. His father owned him, then the men who owned his mother owned him too, and now he belongs to Jeno.

He is nothing but his biddable puppet, his strings forever tied to the debt he owes.

TW: mentions and descriptions
of sexual assault/rape.

also tw for people with emetophobia!
it's not really described and is very
brief but just in case.