Chapter Text
December 30th, 1957
Los Angeles, California
“Sorry about this,” Baekhyun whispers, hand over the receiver as it continues to ring out.
The young woman is biting at her nails—it seems more a bad habit than a sign of nerves.
“Don't be,” she dismisses, “I should have told him I was coming to accompany him home rather than trying to surprise him; it appears I don't have impeccable foresight.”
She’s draped in jewels and wrapped in furs—a rich father.
Baekhyun sighs and hangs the telephone back in its cradle.
“I’m afraid the number Mr. Seo left isn’t connecting. If it's alright with you, I'll pop down to the office for a tick and ask the doctor if he's met with him today. I do believe he's been visiting Dr. Do for an asthma attack he had a few days prior and it's quite possible a check-up was the order of the day.”
She simply nods, turning away from the counter.
Baekhyun cocks an eyebrow at her, disdain plain on his face as he rounds the corner to the staircase. He takes the steps down two at a time, knowing full well that if Kyungsoo hasn't injected him yet, he'd damn well better be preparing to. Johnny had checked-out hardly twenty minutes ago but he wasn’t about to tell his fiancée that.
He shoves open the archive room door, mood growing more sour by the second. He hastily knocks on the wall, alerting Kyungsoo to his presence before heaving the shelf aside and kicking open the unlocked door.
The scene he intrudes on is almost picturesque.
Johnny is on the floor, one arm pinned underneath himself while the other curves toward his neck—gnarled fingers spasming, reaching for his throat. His eyes are bulging, although one lid has begun to droop, and his mouth is wide open in a silent scream.
“Oh my God,” Baekhyun gasps, rushing to kneel beside him.
He presses both hands to Johnny’s chest, ignoring Kyungsoo's hissed, “Careful!”
The muscles around his rib cage are contracting weakly and his heart is beating abnormally, slowing with each passing second. It steals Baekhyun’s breath, giving way to a few fleeting seconds of euphoria.
His eyes are glazed with tears but the paralysis is keeping him from blinking.
Baekhyun snaps out of his trance and looks over as Kyungsoo.
“We need to get him up. Now.” He nods at the elevator.
Kyungsoo frowns, quickly setting down the syringe before saying, “Baekhyun… he's not even dead y—”
“Now,” Baekhyun snarls, “His rich fiancée is in the lobby; if she doesn't find a body, we’re in for one hell of a court case.”
A weak gurgle escapes Johnny's lips at the mention of his fiancée. Baekhyun eyes turn soft for a moment.
“Oh, my sweet. She never deserved you.”
A few more seconds and he’s gone, a tear of release slipping down his cheek and sending Baekhyun’s heart skipping in his chest.
He glances up.
“You’re certain there’s no trace left in the body?” he asks Kyungsoo.
“Succinylcholine metabolizes within minutes, so unless the autopsy occurs—”
“I don’t need the specifics, babe, just ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”
“Yes, I’m certain.”
Baekhyun nods. He hooks his arms under Johnny’s and drags the body into the open elevator car, grunting with exertion. He shoves the legs inside and gestures for Kyungsoo to join him.
He jabs the third floor button with his thumb and the elevator groans to life. They don’t bother closing the gate seeing as they’ll be coming back down in a minute or two. They pass up through their shared bedroom and farther, onto the third floor.
Kyungsoo slides the back gate open and steps into the narrow hall, carefully navigating through the pitch dark and tapping every so often on the wall.
Baekhyun drums his fingers against his leg, idly considering what he’ll have for dinner.
When Kyungsoo finds the sweet spot he shoves the door open and climbs through, sliding the clothes hangers aside with a screech.
He opens the closet door and daylight pours through, giving Baekhyun enough light to navigate the body through the hall, the closet, and into the room. Kyungsoo has already re-placed his luggage, giving the room a suitably lived-in feel.
“Why am I always the one doing the heavy lifting?” Baekhyun grumbles.
Johnny is quite tall and it takes several seconds just to get a solid enough grip around his back and under his legs.
“Because you’re the one who chooses who to kill,” Kyungsoo retorts under his breath. “You could’ve decided to kill children. Forty pounds is less of a strain on the back.”
Baekhyun clicks his tongue. “I’m not heartless.”
He hefts the body up onto the single bed and brushes his hands off on his pants.
Kyungsoo arranges his limbs into a suitable position then briefly checks his pulse, nodding when he judges him suitably deceased.
They both retreat into the elevator, and send it shuddering back into the basement. Before it even reaches the ground, Baekhyun jumps out and darts from the room, skipping up the stairs.
He tucks a stray strand of hair back, smoothing his hand over it before opening the door and re-entering the lobby.
The fiancée has her eyes on the television. Baekhyun immediately recognizes the film—‘Vertigo’, with James Stewart.
“Miss,” he says to get her attention.
She turns back around, clutching her purse in both hands.
“I’m afraid our doctor hasn’t seen Mr. Seo since yesterday evening,” Baekhyun explains.
She sighs, a show of exasperation.
“If you’d like, I can take you up to his room. I’m afraid if he isn’t there you’ll simply need to wait in the lobby.”
She nods curtly. “Yes, that would be wonderful.”
Baekhyun leads her up the first set of stairs, then the second. His heart is pounding but it’s a welcome reaction.
Leaving the body intact is always far riskier than disposing of it, but with an untraceable chemical which is disappearing from the body as they walk, there’s no way anything can be proven. All that aside, the horrified reactions almost make the risks worthwhile all on their own.
He snakes through the hallway until they reach the right door. Baekhyun raps twice against it.
“Mr. Seo, your fiancée is here to see you.”
They wait, both silent.
“Mr. Seo?” he tries again, counting out an appropriate amount of time before he simply unlocks the door, stomach twisted in anticipation.
The woman peeks inside then laughs faintly.
“Johnny.”
She steps inside and Baekhyun watches from the doorway.
“Johnny, wake up… Johnny?”
He soaks up the seconds of silence before the blood-curdling scream.
February 3rd, 1958
Los Angeles, California
“Fuck, you know how I like it,” Baekhyun gasps, tossing his head back.
He’s straddling Kyungsoo’s lap on the edge of their bed and Kyungsoo has one hand on Baekhyun’s hip and one around his throat, squeezing that spot just under his jaw while Baekhyun bounces on his cock.
Colour dances behind his eyes every time he blinks.
He likes to think this is how his victims feel before they die—although maybe not quite so aroused.
Baekhyun drags his nails up Kyungsoo’s back, struggling to breathe, and the pressure within him is growing uncontrollable.
His cock is red and aching, having gone untouched since they had begun.
He slaps Kyungsoo’s hand away and sucks in a few breaths.
“Lie down, baby.”
Baekhyun pushes him back into the bed with hands braced on his shoulders. Kyungsoo groans in appreciation of the new position and starts thrusting up to meet Baekhyun half way.
“Ah! Fuck yes. Keep going like that,” Baekhyun whines, voice raw.
He grabs Kyungsoo’s hand and places it over his throat again, cock twitching when he begins to squeeze.
“So close,” he gasps.
Baekhyun grinds back on Kyungsoo, delirious with pleasure.
He pushes harder, deeper, faster—chasing his orgasm without laying a hand on himself.
His moans grow fainter and fainter as Kyungsoo chokes him until suddenly the tension is too much and he snaps.
With a scream stuck in his throat, he digs his nails into Kyungsoo’s arms and comes.
May 1st, 1932
Los Angeles, California
“Sungmi!” Baekhyun starts when his mother stands up straight.
“What?” she calls back, grip around Baekhyun's hand tightening.
His grandfather strides into their room, his perpetually stern expression even more poisonous than usual.
“I need to speak with you.”
His mother sighs and scoops Baekhyun into her arms.
“Put the boy down.”
“No.”
He sighs, jaw tight.
“We need to discuss private matters.”
“He’s three years old,” she replies.
She sits back on her bed and begins bouncing Baekhyun on her knee.
His grandfather closes the door and comes to stand across from them, pushing his glasses sternly up his nose.
“…Do you remember the young woman? From a fortnight ago?”
She nods.
“Her husband has just checked in.” His voice becomes grim.
His mother stops bouncing him, but doesn’t say anything.
“We need to discuss whether it’s best to…”
He looks down at Baekhyun and doesn’t finish his sentence.
His mother laughs quietly.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she says.
He crosses his arms.
“Children are like mockingbirds, repeating whatever you say without a thought for the consequences; you need to be careful.”
Baekhyun struggles against his mother’s hold until she releases him, still engaged in the conversation. He wanders away from the two, towards the elevator in the corner.
“At any cost,” his grandfather mutters, “I’ll need you to get close to him—”
Baekhyun had stopped listening after he realized they aren’t talking about anything fun. He hooks his fingers in the metal grates and jumps, trying to climb the elevator’s cage. When that fails, he tries to fit his toes into the grate too.
A smack echoes throughout the room and Baekhyun looks over with wide eyes. His mother is holding her cheek and his grandfather is standing over her with a scowl.
Baekhyun bursts into tears and his mother’s expression instantly softens as she runs to him and scoops him into her arms. She holds his cheek and hugs him close, urging his tears into her dress.
She hushes him briefly before beginning to sing.
“Happy days are here again…
The skies above are clear again…
Let us sing a song of cheer again,
Happy days are here again.”
September 19th, 1958
Los Angeles, California
When Minseok enters the lobby, he’s dressed in his casual wear.
“Going somewhere?” Baekhyun asks as he passes.
Minseok rarely leaves the hotel except for the odd shopping session, and of course, to visit the den.
Minseok’s lips twitch into an almost-smile.
“Nowhere at all,” he replies.
Baekhyun hums in mock contemplation.
“Maybe you should take Yixing along with you; I’m sure he knows a thing or two about poppies.”
Minseok clicks his tongue at the sarcasm.
“Poor boy would go into cardiac arrest the second he saw a naked woman.”
Baekhyun laughs. “I think a naked woman would do him good.”
Minseok grins, that unique, gummy smile of his.
“Anyway,” Baekhyun continues, “have you seen Sehun? He’s on a break and I need to discuss next week’s delivery.”
Minseok pouts in contemplation.
“You’ve already checked the kitchen?”
Baekhyun makes a face.
“Why would he be in the kitchen during his break? He already spends the whole day in there.”
Minseok shrugs and gives him a look that says ‘you really think anything that boy does makes sense?’
…It’s a fair point.
Baekhyun heads toward the restaurant which is closed for the next hour until lunch. He unlocks the entrance and swings the door to the kitchen open before pausing with a heavy sigh.
Jongin is on his back, clinging to the edge of the metal preparation table while Sehun pounds into him. The sound of skin slapping is almost obnoxiously loud.
“For God’s sake,” Baekhyun says, letting the door swing shut.
The both of them jolt so suddenly that Jongin nearly falls off the table trying to cover himself.
Baekhyun tosses his hands up.
“You cook here! Why don’t you fuck up in your room?”
Sehun disregards him and starts thrusting back into Jongin, who squeaks and turns beet red, trying to squirm away and cover his erection with his shirt.
“Sehun!” he hisses, voice cracking in embarrassment.
“What?” Sehun replies, grunting. “He likes it.”
Baekhyun leans back against the wall and crosses his arms.
“He’s right, I do. But I’d like it a whole lot more if it were somewhere other than the kitchen.” He begins tapping his foot. “So either come, or move it upstairs.”
“I’ll take the first option,” Sehun says immediately.
He begins pumping faster and Jongin can’t bite back his moan.
It only takes a few moments before Sehun is hunching over, quivering with his orgasm. Jongin gasps and Baekhyun can practically feel the come emptying into him.
Sehun grabs Jongin’s cock and starts pumping it, tearing a moan from his throat. He lets go of his shirt and grabs the counter either side of him, wrapping his legs around Sehun’s hips.
Baekhyun briefly appreciates the toned muscle of his legs and up his chest. It leads up to a defined flush across his face and Baekhyun nearly coos at how precious he is.
After a minute or so, Jongin comes across his chest, breathing heavily as he rides out his orgasm.
Baekhyun gives them a few moments before saying, “Sehun, come talk to me about the deliveries after you’ve cleaned everything thoroughly. And next time, inform me of your sexual antics so I can provide you with a plastic sheet.”
Baekhyun grabs a grape from the bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth, strolling out of the kitchen.
April 15th, 1958
Los Angeles, California
Baekhyun holds the syringe tenderly in both hands, pressing the plunger enough for the liquid to dribble from the needle.
“What are you doing to me?” Taeyong whimpers, tears already slipping down his cheeks.
His bottom lip begins quivering and Baekhyun cradles his face with one hand, leaning in closer.
He plasters his warmest, most dazzling smile on his face and murmurs, “I’m going to kill you, sugar.”
He’s never done this without Kyungsoo before, but he’s watched him nearly every time and is absolutely dying to try it out himself.
“Why me?” he whispers, voice breaking.
He looks up at the ceiling and closes his eyes. Baekhyun isn’t sure if he’s praying or simply searching for answers up there.
He traces a finger along Taeyong’s jaw.
“So beautiful,” Baekhyun murmurs, “I’ve heard that when a star dies, its brilliance outshines everything nearby… I’m sure you’ll be the same.”
A quiet sob bubbles from his chest and he refuses to make eye contact.
Baekhyun places the syringe down on the table and rolls Taeyong’s sleeve up past his elbow. He’s sniffling and Baekhyun can see his chest rising and falling rapidly and he aches for the moment when his lungs will stop altogether.
He holds the syringe exactly how Kyungsoo does, relishing in the foreign feeling. He places the end of the needle against his arm, just below the ditch of his elbow.
“No,” Taeyong begs, voice rising as he tries to pull his arm away. “No! Don’t, please!”
Baekhyun pushes the needle in and Taeyong cries—the primal sound of a wounded animal.
With intense focus, he slowly drives in the plunger and watches the liquid drain out into his bloodstream before pulling the needle out.
Taeyong is openly sobbing now, tears streaking his cheeks and running down his neck.
Baekhyun grabs his knife off the instrument table and slices first the ropes binding Taeyong’s ankles, then the ones binding his wrists—he adores the way they collapse.
Taeyong looks down at him, eyes wide with confusion and terror, and immediately makes for the door. It’s locked, of course, so Baekhyun just watches him scrabble, waiting for the drug to kick in.
The longer Taeyong goes with no progress, the louder his sobs become.
After about a minute, he’s still moving just as agilely, and Baekhyun’s anticipation begins to fizzle out, replaced by confusion, then frustration.
There’s a loud clang and Taeyong jumps and scrambles away from the door.
Kyungsoo pushes it open and looks down at Taeyong, over at the syringe, and finally up to Baekhyun.
He closes and locks the door quietly, and walks toward Taeyong, grabbing his arm before he can run. He holds his face roughly with one hand, studying his eyes, then looking at Baekhyun.
“What were you thinking?” he mutters, expression grim. “You injected it intramuscularly.” He releases Taeyong. “It can take up to three times as long to take effect and—”
“I-I…” Taeyong whimpers from the other side of the room. “I can’t…”
He suddenly collapses on the floor and Baekhyun pushes past Kyungsoo to crouch at his side.
“Yes,” Baekhyun whispers, “I did it. Yes.”
Taeyong’s eyelids have drooped so he reaches over and pushes them back up.
One arm is shaking while the drug takes control of it, and finally those quick, nervous breaths grow slower and slower, coming to an eventual halt.
He looks into Taeyong’s eyes just as the terror gives way to emptiness and smiles, murmuring, “Like a star.”
October 12th, 1958
Los Angeles, California
Baekhyun wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s shoulders.
“How long do you think he’ll be out for?”
Chanyeol’s head is hanging, chin to his chest and collar soaked with blood. It had only taken a few minutes to drag him in and tie him up and now they’re stuck in here until he wakes.
Kyungsoo tilts his head.
“You hit him rather hard, he’s probably concussed. I’d say another twenty minutes at most.”
Baekhyun slides his hands down Kyungsoo’s chest and slips one hand into his pants.
“That’s enough time for some fun. What do you say?”
Kyungsoo turns his head and murmurs, “Is that what you want the poor man to wake up to? He’ll be traumatized.”
Baekhyun spins Kyungsoo around and nips at his lip with a smirk.
“Not if we’re fast enough.”
He grabs Kyungsoo’s cock inside his pants and starts stroking him, receiving no sign of objection.
“Besides, he told me he likes when I put on a show.”
The corner of Kyungsoo’s mouth quirks up and Baekhyun tugs him back against the wall, shoving the curtain aside so he’s up against plain brick.
“Wipe that smirk off your face and get inside me.”
Kyungsoo’s expression simply grows more amused.
“Patience is a virtue,” he murmurs.
Baekhyun laughs and replies, “Not to me.”
He pulls Kyungsoo into a rushed kiss, sliding his hand along his half-hard cock. Kyungsoo unbuttons his pants, letting them slide to the floor before sliding one hand up Baekhyun’s shirt.
Baekhyun slaps his hand away and murmurs, “None of that foreplay junk, baby.”
He tugs his pants down with one hand.
“I’m already ready for you.”
He shakes one foot free and wraps his leg around Kyungsoo’s hip. He lines Kyungsoo’s cock up and it slides in easily with all the Vaseline and come that Chanyeol had slicked him with less than an hour ago.
“Yes, fuck, that’s what I need.”
Baekhyun drops his head onto Kyungsoo’s shoulder, biting and sucking bruises into the skin where it meets his neck.
He slides his hand up to Kyungsoo’s hair and tugs. Kyungsoo groans and starts thrusting, pulling Baekhyun’s hips down and nearly causing his leg to buckle under him.
“Fuck! Oh, baby, do it harder,” Baekhyun gasps.
He clings to Kyungsoo, squeezing his leg tighter around his waist.
Kyungsoo drags Baekhyun further down the wall—the brick scraping his back—and into a more suitable position.
Baekhyun slaps one hand back against the wall to keep his balance while Kyungsoo bends his knees and starts fucking into him at a near horizontal angle. He rests his head back against the wall, a gurgle of pleasure emerging from his throat.
“B-baby…” he whimpers.
Kyungsoo is far stronger than he appears to be and every time he drags Baekhyun forward to meet his hips, Baekhyun nearly bounces off the wall altogether.
He glances over Kyungsoo’s shoulder and notices Chanyeol; he’s still unconscious but his presence makes Baekhyun’s cock twitch. Whether it’s from the exhibitionistic rush of potentially being caught or the knowledge of what they’re about to do to him, he can’t be certain.
Baekhyun tugs Kyungsoo closer, wrapping an arm around his back—his thrusts are growing erratic.
“You—ah!—you gonna come soon, Soo?” Baekhyun breathes into his ear.
He sucks the lobe into his mouth and nibbles on it.
“Yeah,” Kyungsoo groans.
He grabs Baekhyun’s cheeks and pulls them apart, digging in his nails.
Baekhyun starts murmuring to him, all the filth that’s flooding his mind.
“You always fuck me so good whenever I want it,” he pants, “Am I nice and hot around your cock? Hm? Want to keep it inside me all fucking day?”
Kyungsoo is straining to reach his orgasm, not bothering to hold back when they’ve got so little time anyway. Baekhyun can hear the exertion, the groans in his throat that don’t quite make it past his lips and it’s one of his favourite sounds.
He shudders and pushes Kyungsoo off of him, dropping to his knees with a whimper. Kyungsoo doesn’t question him, immediately grabbing his cock and jerking himself off.
Baekhyun looks up at him—at his pink, parted lips and his dark eyes—and opens his mouth. He has a second or two of warning by way of a gasp before Kyungsoo comes across his face, striping his cheek and lips.
As soon as he releases himself, Baekhyun dips forward and licks up the come that’s dribbling down it.
When Kyungsoo is finished, Baekhyun shifts his position to lie across the cool cement floor and wraps a fist around his own cock, jerking himself off hastily.
Kyungsoo calmly redresses himself and fixes his hair before walking up beside Baekhyun. He presses the toe of his shoe into his neck, right next to his pulse, and Baekhyun gasps, hips curling off the floor. All Kyungsoo has to do is apply a little more pressure…
Baekhyun sobs as he comes, head pounding with a need for oxygen.
Kyungsoo steps back when the wave of pleasure has passed and Baekhyun is left gasping for breath.
After a few minutes he sits up and come drips down his chin onto his lap.
“Think I should stay like this until he wakes up?” Baekhyun hums mischievously.
Kyungsoo runs a finger through the mess on his face then taps his lips for Baekhyun to open his mouth and lick it clean.
“That depends on if you want him to take you seriously.” Kyungsoo mutters.
Baekhyun playfully bites his finger before letting it go.
He retrieves a cloth from the instrument table and wipes himself clean then turns to his grandfather’s old record player. There are only a handful of records down here; they keep most of them either in the lobby or the dining room.
“Mood music,” Baekhyun murmurs, thumbing through the sleeves.
He pulls one out and smiles, setting the needle down and cranking the handle for a few moments before stepping back.
As the fuzz gives way to an instrumental and crooning vocals, Baekhyun begins to sing along.
“You are my destiny,
You share my reverie,
You are my happiness,
That’s what you are.”