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They were together because Yoongi survived. And Yoongi survived because he was fucked up.

He wasn’t like the others.

That fateful night, Taehyung hadn’t expected the pretty man from the bar to appreciate his transition from seduction to aggression. He hadn’t expected Yoongi to moan breathily when the knife was pressed to his sternum. He hadn’t expected the muscles of Yoongi’s face to twitch intricately with fascination when Taehyung whispered not to scream. Usually, the men he brought home with him would contort, beg for mercy, try to yell through the hand Taehyung would ultimately have to force over their mouth.

”Please!”

“No, don’t!”

“Help!”

It wasn’t the pleading that turned Taehyung on. It wasn’t the loud cries for their lives that made his cock throb.

Instead, Taehyung obsessed over the intricacies of twitching lips, furrowing eyebrows, rolling tongues, dripping saliva, blushed cheeks, and that special euphoric glimmer that eyeballs would take on during fornication. Their expressions were the most enticing aspect of their existence. Humanity played out so clearly through muscle, skin, and bone, all on display for him while he fucked them.

Taehyung found the faces men made during their orgasms to be the most enrapturing.

He liked to keep those expressions as long as possible.

Ideally, Taehyung liked to end their lives just before they reached their peak. Their exasperated faces froze as they were killed, still wrapped up in their pleasure. If he had his way, Taehyung would freeze them in time for eternity. He’d love to peel their skin and muscle of the bone and frame their faces, just for himself to view. But that, of course, wasn’t possible.

And most of the time, they noticed him pull out his trusty blade, then the game was ruined. Instead of pleasure, their faces twisted with fear, and those little intricate expressions would be sullied with a different kind of desperation.

But with Yoongi, it was different. He had noticed the knife before Taehyung raised it, but he didn’t squirm away. He didn’t scream, he didn’t fight. He wasn’t like the others.

Instead, to Taehyung’s unexpected delight, Yoongi’s eyes flicked up to him with a deep, dark mirth. While Yoongi had been gorgeous since Taehyung laid eyes on him in the crowded bar, he looked absolutely heavenly the moment he whispered, “Make me bleed,” over Taehyung’s thrusting between his legs.

Yoongi had never acted on it before meeting Taehyung, but he had fantasized the feeling of warm blood dripping along his body. He imagined the way red rivers formed in the divots of his muscles, pools of forbidden lacquer. He wanted to be painted with gore.

And with Taehyung, he finally was.

It felt like he was being carefully dressed in the most precious of fabric. The danger of crimson-dipped skin made him feel vulnerable and powerful all at once, like a victim and a perpetrator in one.

Taehyung knew he couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this: he didn’t kill Yoongi.

His slices were precise, careful, shallow, so as to save some for their next time. A vertical line from Yoongi’s breastbone to the center of his torso just barely dribbled blood down his sides. But, to Taehyung’s delight, it was enough to have Yoongi orgasming in pure ecstasy. His white ejaculate splattered over his red blood, mixing in a deranged pattern. Taehyung watched, enraptured by the void of Yoongi’s gaping mouth, the way his cheeks stretched over his teeth, the way his lashes fluttered over distant eyes, the way his muscles stretched over his skull to create the perfect visage of pleasure.

He was in love, and so was Yoongi.

It felt natural to live together shortly after. How else would they get their fill of each other whenever they needed?

Yoongi survived that first night, and Taehyung wanted to give him everything he ever wanted. But he’d hate to scar Yoongi’s perfect body with repeated abuse with a blade.

So they created a new game together.

Taehyung liked to stand back, watching carefully as his lovely Yoongi was taken by strangers. Missionary, reverse cowgirl, doggy, riding, every position imaginable. Taehyung was infatuated with the way their bodies intertwined, slid against each other, the sounds they made, and most importantly, the expressions on their faces.

He loved to watch his specimens' expressions as they had sex with his boyfriend. With a hand around his own dick, Taehyung followed each distinct facial movement closely.

Yoongi, on the other hand, liked to be bathed in the warm hug of their blood. His hands would roam their hot skin in search of the nearest pulse point, desperate to feel the sweet saccharine even if it was hidden away from him beneath layers of muscle, fascia, and skin. Yoongi could feel it pumping. He was fiending for it to smear onto him like a dirty painting.

And Taehyung would gladly give it to him, all to see the way his face contorted into elated perfection, an expression Taehyung wanted so desperately to peel away and keep against his heart forever.

To fulfill Yoongi’s needs, Taehyung would take his knife, take hold of the man they had whisked away, and slit him open with quick precision so as to bathe Yoongi in gore as soon as possible. They never saw it coming, so enraptured with banging Yoongi that they wouldn’t notice Taehyung approaching with their impending doom. Every time, without fail, Yoongi would look directly into Taeyung’s eyes, gasp as a bolt of electricity shocked his spine when the victim’s blood splashed onto his skin, and orgasm violently as they died inside of him.

The bodies would grow heavy on top of him or limp underneath him, crushing him with the physical and emotional weight of taking a life. But Yoongi basked in the glory of his bloody mess, squirming in the gore he had come to love desperately.

Taehyung would approach him with the dirtied blade and press it against the supple skin of his boyfriend’s throat, teasing the idea that Yoongi could become lost to time in his own pool of blood. He smeared men’s gore across Yoongi’s vulnerable jugular, violently jerking himself to the euphoric expression on his boyfriend’s face.

Finally, Taehyung would complete their ritual by painting Yoongi’s precious face, the one he obsessed over, white with his cum. They panted wildly, staring at each other with adoration, as the dead weight they just burdened themselves with would take up a space in their bed.

-

It was time to do it again.

Both Taehyung and Yoongi were itching, like there were rats under the skin clawing to get out. It had been too long since they reveled in the pleasure of blood and ecstasy, painting their bedroom a specific color only achieved by stealing the life of another.

Taehyung was having a hard time peeling Yoongi off of him, though he didn’t really want to if he was being honest. The room was dark, the music was loud, and his boyfriend’s lips felt wonderful against the hot skin of his neck.

When he felt Yoongi whisper, “I want to eat you alive,” into his ear, Taehyung grinned down at him while clutching his waist possessively.

The club’s lights illuminated Yoongi’s face, his slender eyes clouded with multi-layered desire shimmering in the strobes, and Taehyung swayed them side to side.

“You’re so beautiful, love.” Taehyung responded, leaning forward to bury his nose into Yoongi’s fluffy hair. The smaller man felt those plump lips press against his scalp, maybe a small feral nip along with the kiss. It felt wonderful to be pressed against Taehyung’s body, the warmth he could feel through their clothing, the way they slotted together perfectly. Yoongi glanced up at that handsome face with adoration.

“Want you so bad~” Yoongi bit his lip and slid his palms along Taehyung’s chest. His boyfriend hummed with a smirk.

“I can tell. Needy little thing.” He kissed Yoongi’s cheek. Taehyung lingered for a moment to gaze over his boyfriend’s shoulder at the pulsating crowd of potential catches. His eyes darkened as he surveyed the bodies; hot, sweating, hips gyrating, lips parting, eyelids heavy with alcohol. “Don’t you want me to find you something else to play with, too?” Taehyung murmured into the other’s ear.

Yoongi sighed wistfully, swooning at the thoughtful gesture. “Yes please.” He answered, attaching his lips to Taehyung’s throat again.

Taehyung ran a hand through Yoongi’s hair before separating from him, brushing his thumb over his boyfriend’s pouting bottom lip to wipe that sad expression away. He made sure to take a firm hold of Yoongi’s hand before beginning to wade through the mass of men’s bodies.

Yoongi always let Taehyung pick. The taller had good taste, and it’s not like the criteria was strict: they just needed to be attractive, willing to cuckold Taehyung, and easy enough to trick into losing their life. Taehyung had been doing this much longer, anyways. He knew what needed to be done.

And sometimes, if he needed to use Yoongi as bait, he would.

Taehyung pulled Yoongi’s hand to bring him close. “You see that one over there?” He nodded in a general direction while wrapping an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Yoongi tried to follow Taehyung’s eyeline, but lost it in the sea of bobbing heads and raised arms. “What does he look like, Taehyungie?” He squinted a little bit.

“Buzz cut, black jacket. Tall.” Taehyung ran his knuckles against Yoongi’s throat, licking his lips while staring at his new prey. Yoongi could tell he was zoned in: it was the way Taehyung was standing stock still, his head pitched slightly forward, his eyebrows heavy over his eyes. His jaw was tight and his fingers were ghostly against Yoongi’s skin. He was stalking, tense, waiting to strike.

Yoongi thought Taehyung looked beautiful like this, doing what he was passionate about. This predatory expression always made Yoongi squirm a bit in his shoes, his mouth go dry, and his sick love for Taehyung swell.

He had to tear his eyes away from Taehyung to get back on task, joining in on the hunt.

He scanned the crowd carefully, trying to make out every man’s form. It was a bit difficult with the way the lights were flashing in his eyes, blinding him every few moments. But Yoongi looked hard, because he knew Taehyung had locked in.

And then, when he saw the man, he knew exactly why Taehyung chose him.

He was tall, broad, and standing silently at a table separate from the dancing mass of men. His skin was tan and his eyes were slim. He was nursing a glass of liquor, a bit of a pretentious move for a dance club. His jaw was square, face handsome, with small moles dotting his cheeks and neck. He had black hair, cropped short to his scalp. His hands were big, maybe even bigger than Yoongi’s. He was watching everyone else in the club, just like Taehyung and Yoongi were.

Yoongi thought he was perfect.

“Go get him, babe. I’m right behind you.” Taehyung patted Yoongi’s butt affectionately.

Yoongi looked up at him with a small smile before beginning to swim through the ocean of bodies towards his prize. He was jostled around a bit, hands and legs brushing against him as he made his way towards tonight’s entertainment. Yoongi felt the excitement bubbling up in his stomach as the distance between him and the man closed, finally turning into butterflies when he emerged from the dance floor and approached the table.

Before he could introduce himself, the man turned towards him. Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat as they made eye contact. It was electrically intense.

“Hi…” Maybe he was a bit taken aback by the way the man stared down at him, but Yoongi put on his best and cutest smile.

The man looked him up and down blankly, and for a moment Yoongi was nervous he wasn’t going to pull. Normally, men showed immediate interest. But this guy just looked at him coldly for more than a few seconds. His slender eyes dragged over Yoongi’s body like he was appraising him to attach a price tag. Like he was trying to see if Yoongi was worth something.

Yoongi was relieved when after a beat of intense silence he was finally met with a warm smile. “Hey there. To what do I owe the pleasure?” The man took a sip of what looked like whiskey. He leaned against the table so he could face Yoongi more and from this angle, Yoongi could see just how wide his chest was. And wow, he was muscular; it was obvious through the white shirt under his jacket.

Yoongi swallowed. “I saw you across the club. Actually, my boyfriend did.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Your boyfriend?” He sounded skeptical.

Yoongi nodded and took a step closer, rounding the table so he was on the same side of it as the other. “He thinks you’re really handsome.”

“Why would a man with a boyfriend as cute as you be looking at anyone else? If I were him, I’d be thankful for the prize I had.” The man winked while taking another sip of his drink.

Yoongi giggled and bit his lip, maybe batting his eyelashes once or twice. “Well, he and I are into something a little unconventional. I can tell you about it if you’d like?” He leaned onto the table so that their bodies drew closer. Not close enough for Yoongi to feel his warmth, but close enough that he could see the thick veins on the back of the man’s hands.

The man hummed and put his glass down on the table so he could lay his hand next to Yoongi’s on the table. “If I get to listen to your voice, then please.” And Yoongi blushed at the smart flirting.

What a shame this smooth tongue would lie limp at the end of the night.

“My boyfriend likes to share.” It was a simple statement, but it was obvious what Yoongi meant. He was sure to accent his words with a flick of his tongue against his bottom lip. The man’s eyes followed it, and he swallowed thickly in response.

Yoongi had him and he knew it.

“That sounds like a good time.” Yoongi placed his hand over the other man’s when the stranger said it.

“I’ll make it so good for you.” The other man laughed, but it was more of an affected huff.

When a familiar voice echoed over Yoongi’s shoulder, accompanied by warm arms enclosing around his waist, the smallest man hummed contently.

“Looks like you’ve met my vixen of a boyfriend.” Taehyung laughed while putting his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder to look up at the man he had chosen.

“I have. He told me about your guys’... interests.” The new man’s eyes flicked between Taehyung and Yoongi. “What he didn’t tell me was that his boyfriend is just as gorgeous as he is. What, did you guys meet on a drama set?”

Yoongi laughed while Taehyung unwrapped from around him to approach the other. “You’re a smooth talker. My Yoongi loves that, don’t you baby?”

Taehyung smiled as he smoothed down his boyfriend’s hair, and Yoongi nodded in his palm. The stranger watched closely as the couple touched each other, his eyes sharply focusing on where they connected.

“So this is Yoongi, and you’re…?” The man left air for Taehyung to introduce himself.

“This is my Taehyung.” Yoongi rubbed the back of the unnamed man’s hand as he said his boyfriend’s name.

“Taehyung and Yoongi. Lovely.” He smiled widely and laced his fingers with Yoongi’s so they held hands fully. “I’m Namjoon.”

Taehyung placed his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and pressed into his side. “Namjoon.” He repeated with an alluring smile, using his other hand to brush against the bare skin just above Namjoon’s shirt collar. “Perfect.”

Yoongi recognized the look in Taehyung’s eye: murky, needy, and unsuspectingly dangerous. It could be misconstrued as lust, but Yoongi knew the horrible truth.

As they led Namjoon towards the exit, both pairs of hands all over him, the boyfriends locked gazes to agree on their plan.

They both knew that fulfillment was coming soon.

-

“I can’t believe you let other men put their hands on this pretty thing.” Namjoon breathed as he hovered over Yoongi on the bed. Taehyung hummed from where he sat in an armchair a few feet away.

“It’d be a disservice to the world if only one man got to indulge in him.” Taehyung rubbed his palm over his own clothed groin when he saw Yoongi wrap his arms around Namjoon’s neck.

“You’re more generous than I would be.” Namjoon breathed while slotting a knee between Yoongi’s legs.

The smallest man looked deep into Namjoon’s eyes and gently ground his clothed crotch against the new man’s firm thigh. He trailed his fingers along that hot, tan neck, feeling along the carotid artery hiding beneath that gorgeous skin.

Taehyung watched closely as Namjoon placed a hand on Yoongi’s hip and lowered his face so they nosed at each other. He looked over their expressions, watched as Yoongi chased Namjoon by jutting out his chin. He saw the way Namjoon sucked in on his cheeks before parting his lips. Both of their eyes were hooded, and Yoongi’s ears were turning pink with blush.

Taehyung wished he could take a photo, or better yet, take their faces.

But both he and Yoongi agreed on keeping absolutely no trophies. It’s not like photos were enough, anyways.

“I want to see what’s underneath all of this.” Yoongi murmured while rubbing his hands over Namjoon’s clothed torso.

“Why don’t you and your boyfriend help me out of these clothes, then?” Namjoon sat up, pulling Yoongi with him.

“I only watch.” Taehyung solidified, all while keeping his eyes glued to the way their arms tangled. Namjoon’s eyes darted sideways to him, and for a brief moment it looked like he was nonplussed with Taehyung’s response. But a moment later, Namjoon shrugged with an expression of ‘your loss’ and returned his attention to Yoongi. Taehyung flicked his eyes towards the bedside table, knowing the knife hidden within the drawer would come into use soon.

Namjoon tugged Yoongi’s shirt over his head and sighed with wide eyes. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Yoongi giggled and slid his hands under Namjoon’s jacket to begin pushing it off. “Show me you mean it.”

Taehyung noticed how Namjoon gulped, how his pupils widened when Yoongi said it. He noticed the way his face twitched with a pure, deep desire. Taehyung unbuttoned his pants to slide his hand inside his boxers, sighing when he wrapped a hand around his hardening cock.

Namjoon’s jacket landed next to the pair on the bed, and his shirt was tossed to the floor. Taehyung and Yoongi’s eyes widened at the sight of his toned, no, his muscular torso. He was honestly even bigger than he had looked with clothes on.

Yoongi ran his hands over Namjoon’s shoulder to his chest, feeling the powerful heartbeat pumping under his ribs. “Can I kiss him, Taehyungie?” Yet he maintained eye contact with the stranger while they ground against each other through their jeans.

“Do whatever you want, baby. You’re both so beautiful.” Taehyung sighed and ran his thumb over the tip of his dick, making it leak a drop of precum.

Yoongi didn’t need to be told twice. He wrapped his arms around Namjoon’s back and pulled him back down onto the bed with him, crashing their lips together. Namjoon moaned into Yoongi’s mouth when their bare chests pressed together. Yoongi basked in the feeling of hot skin against his, the feeling of Namjoon’s veiny forearms sliding underneath him to cradle his waist and head.

He could practically feel Namjoon’s blood pressing against him already with the way their hearts were pressed together and the veins entangling his torso. Yoongi ghosted his fingernails along Namjoon’s shoulders, leaving goosebumps in his wake, until he held the sides of his neck with palms against his jugular.

Badump. Badump.

Namjoon’s heartbeat.

Yoongi moaned.

The pair’s tongues met wetly between their lips and they ground onto each other’s clothed hips.

“I need you out of those pants right now.” Namjoon breathed, pressing his lips to Yoongi’s hard once again. “Take them off for me.”

Yoongi nodded against Namjoon, removing his hands from his throat to unbutton and unzip his jeans. He fiddled with the fasteners while continuing to kiss Namjoon, eyes closed as he began to loosen the constrictive clothing from his lower half.

Taehyung licked his lips while looking at the way Yoongi’s eyebrows pinched together, the way Namjoon looked almost relaxed while indulging in his boyfriend. He watched the way Namjoon’s eyelids parted to stare down at Yoongi, like he was calculating the pleasure in Yoongi’s gasped breaths. Namjoon looked focused, analytical.

The stranger’s hands slid away from Yoongi, and the smaller man anticipated help in removing his pants.

Yoongi breathed up to Namjoon, sliding his sultry eyes open. “I can’t wait to feel you in me-”

Taehyung stopped moving his hand in his pants when Yoongi suddenly yelped in pain. His eyes darted around in confusion, trying to see what Yoongi was upset about.

And then it all happened so quickly. Yoongi was crying out with a scream. The stranger was kneeling straight up on the bed now. Namjoon had a handful of Yoongi’s hair, yanking his head to pull him across the bed. It was violent, with Yoongi’s back being slammed into Namjoon’s chest as he shrieked, “What the fuck?!”.

Taehyung’s eyes widened when he saw something in Namjoon’s free hand: a syringe.

“Taehyung!” Yoongi gasped, reaching up to claw at Namjoon’s tight grip on his hair. “He’s hurting me!” He couldn’t see the syringe Namjoon was driving towards his neck.

Namjoon saw Taehyung rise from his chair with the speed of a practiced predator. It wasn’t panicked or flustered; Namjoon was shocked to see Taehyung definitely wasn’t lost on how to react. It was a surprise that he didn’t come barreling towards Yoongi immediately, but instead threw the bedside table open. And as Namjoon lowered the syringe towards Yoongi’s throat, he caught Taehyung’s flaming eyes.

Both of them held the same deranged, needy expression as Taehyung revealed the knife he gripped with practiced determination. Namjoon placed his thumb on the plunger of the syringe.

Yoongi shrieked as he felt a prick breaking the skin of his throat.

Namjoon’s eyes widened when he saw Taehyung catapulting towards him with murder written all over his face. Taehyung was lightning quick to close the distance between himself and the pair on the bed, faster than Namjoon was used to anyone reacting. “Let go of him or I’ll slit your fucking throat.”

Now Namjoon had a knife against his neck and Taehyung’s hand on his chin to push it backwards. The youngest man said, “I’ll kill you so fast you won’t even feel it.” His lips were pulled back into a snarl, his nails digging into Namjoon’s jaw with determination.

Namjoon’s lips parted in awe as he stared up at the fiercely beautiful man threatening to murder him.

Yoongi whimpered where he sat in Namjoon’s arms, trembling, trying to stay as still as possible. He had a needle hanging out of his neck with Namjoon’s thumb ready to inject whatever chemical was inside.

“You say that like you’ve done it before.” Namjoon countered. He took in a short breath when Taehyung shoved his head back even further, exposing the entire length of his throat for his knife to access.

One knee on the bed, Taehyung shuddered an enraged breath. “You don’t want to know what I’ve done, especially for Yoongi.” He whispered lethally.

Namjoon clicked his tongue, stealing a glance at the smallest man he held hostage. “A man worth dying for?”

The knife pressed further into Namjoon’s throat, making the skin dip. “A man worth killing for.” Taehyung clarified. Namjoon’s stomach flipped at the passion in his voice.

“But you like to share… So share him with me, Taehyung?” Namjoon smiled darkly while raising an eyebrow.

“Not anymore. I swear to god, Namjoon, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground. Let go of him.” Taehyung swallowed thickly. His hands were steady, but his nerves were alight with anxiety. He wanted so desperately to look down to Yoongi, make sure he was okay, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off Namjoon.

“If you slice my throat open, I’ll still have time to push the plunger. You’ll lose him to an overdose. It’s midazolam: the euthanasia drug.” Yoongi sobbed at Namjoon’s words, digging his nails into the man’s wrist.

“P-Please, Namjoon, I’ll do anything you want-” His voice was shaky as he tried to reason.

“You don’t have much of a choice, Yoongi.” Namjoon laughed, tightening his grip on the smaller man’s hair. Yoongi yelled in pain again, making Taehyung’s fingernails dig into Namjoon’s jaw to the point they nearly broke skin.

“What do you want?” Taehyung spat.

Namjoon paused for a moment, seeming to take his time to really think it through. Either that, or he was reveling in his current position of power.

“It seems like you and I share similar interests, Taehyung. I’d love to know why you keep that knife so close to your bed, why you seem so confident using it. Hm?” Namjoon analyzed Taehyung’s face as he implied the worst. There was no offense, indignation, no attempt to tell him he was wrong. Namjoon smirked. “I like to play a game with people. You see, even with as beautiful as your boyfriend is, I think he’d be even more beautiful if he’d bend unconditionally to my will.”

“I can do that…” Yoongi whispered breathily. Neither of the other men could see it, but there were tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. “No need for this. I’ll do it. Right, Taehyung? I’m good at that, right?”

Taehyung’s jaw tightened as he listened to his boyfriend bargain for his life. It hurt his heart, his chest tightening tremendously like his ribs were going to eat it.

“I believe you, Yoongi. You sound very eager. But I doubt you know what it means to surrender yourself completely.” Namjoon hummed while blinking up at Taehyung. “This drug, when used with experience, will make you lose body function for as long as it takes me to have my way. You’ll be limp, unable to speak, at my mercy. But you’ll be awake.”

“You’re sick.” Taehyung growled.

“And you’re not?” Namjoon challenged. “I bet you’d enjoy it, too.”

“Taehyungie, h-he’s going to drug me-” Yoongi whimpered wetly.

“You’ll feel powerful, just like when you hold that knife. You’ll feel like you own him. Like you can take him for yourself. Like he’s yours’, beyond any other understanding of it. He’ll be putty in your hands, Taehyung. Yours’ for the taking.” Namjoon’s words slid into Taehyung’s ears like a slimy tongue.

“He's already mine.” Taehyung emphasized with a snarl.

“Sure, but not like this. Let me show you. I promise you’ll love it.” Namjoon purred, lowering his eyelids to show only half of his irises. “Let me show you what perfection looks like. What euphoria feels like.”

“No.” Taehyung said firmly, hearing Yoongi’s panicked breathing. He didn’t show it, but it was making Taehyung feel desperate.

“Would you rather me give him the whole syringe’s worth? He’d be dead in minutes.” Namjoon clicked his tongue again. “Because I can definitely make that happen…”

“You’d sacrifice your life to inject him? Or did you forget I have a knife to your jugular?” Taehyung hissed.

“Either way, he’s going to have the drug pumping through his veins. It’s your choice to decide whether it kills him or not.” Namjoon smiled with sharp eyes when Yoongi sobbed in his arms again. “Since we’re at this point already, it seems only logical to let me show you something you’ll become addicted to.”

Taehyung bared his teeth with a silent growl. He scratched Namjoon’s jaw while tightening his grip, the knife threatening to break skin on his throat. For the first time, he looked down to Yoongi, and his heart shattered in his chest.

His boyfriend had fat tears rolling down his cheeks, face and neck red with stress. His pretty hair was straining at the root where Namjoon was yanking it. He was desperately holding Nmajoon’s hand where it was woven into his hair, trying futilely to save himself. And, of course, the syringe dug into the muscle of his throat, plunger waiting to be pressed down.

“Taehyungie…” Yoongi cried miserably, looking up at his boyfriend with a rattled face.

Taehyung sucked his teeth, staring down at Yoongi for a few moments. Under any other circumstance, he would’ve basked in the expression drawn across his pretty features. Shiny tears, mottled cheeks, desperate eyes, twitching eyebrows. It was heaven.

But because it was Yoongi who was truly distressed, Taehyung crumbled.

“Fine.” The word felt like lead leaving his mouth. “But I get to press the plunger.”

Yoongi was beginning to hyperventilate in Namjoon’s arms after Taehyung spoke.

Namjoon beamed up at Taehyung with glee. “Deal. I knew you’d make the right choice. Now drop the knife.”

Yoongi wailed when Taehyung’s weapon was slammed down onto the side table with futile anger. “Please don’t! Taehyungie, make him stop!” The begging was uncharacteristic from someone who was used to being bathed in blood.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry…” Taehyung made sure to scratch Namjoon’s top layer of a kin off when removing his hand from his chin. He left red lines in his wake, little pinpoints of blood seeping up through the skin.

“It’ll be quick, and then you’ll feel nothing.” Namjoon rumbled into Yoongi’s ear like it was a comfort. The smallest man just whimpered and drew his legs to his chest.

“Don’t fucking talk to him.” Taehyung hissed and placed his hand over Namjoon’s on the syringe. “And let go of his hair.” At Taehyung’s request, Namjoon sighed and released his hold on Yoongi’s head. But, the eldest didn’t move, too terrified of the needle sticking out of his neck.

“A bit overprotective for someone who likes to share, don’t you think?” Namjoon jabbed at Taehyung. The youngest glared at him with lethal intentions, but the stranger just smiled.

“How much is the minimum?” Taehyung muttered, shoving Namjoon’s thumb off of the syringe.

“T-Taehyungie? Please don’t-”

“I’m sorry, my love. I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt you.” Taehyung raised his other hand to hold Yoongi’s face in his palm.

“I don’t want to-”

“I know. I know, Yoongi… Please, baby, please just relax. I’ll take care of you.” Taehyung promised, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Yoongi sobbed while reaching up to tangle his fingers in his boyfriend’s shirt to ground himself.

“2 milligrams should put him down, but not out.” Namjoon hummed from beside them, brave enough to place a palm on Taehyung’s back. The younger man bristled at the touch

“How do I know you’re not lying?” Taehyung spat, making sure to keep looking at Yoongi to comfort him.

“Because if it’s too much, I can’t play with him.” Namjoon said as if it were obvious. “I’m a freak, not a necrophile.”

Taehyung swallowed thickly at the implications of what was going to happen during Namjoon’s “game”.

Taehyung sniffed and gulped. “Are you ready, Yoongi? I’m going to count to 3.”

Yoongi’s teary eyes widened, and he began blubbering for mercy. “Taehyung, please don’t do it-”

“1-”

“Please! I’m scared!” Yoongi’s voice broke on a sob.

“2-” Taehyung struggled to keep counting.

“Taehyung! Stop, please!” Yoongi had never begged like this, because he was different from Taehyung’s other victims. Hearing him sob for reprieve made Taehyung’s stomach do an uncomfortable flip.

With a whisper, Taehyung finished, “3.”

Namjoon watched with sparkling eyes as Taehyung pressed the plunger of the syringe down slowly. Yoongi screamed as he felt the chemical spread under his skin, but didn’t move as he did so.

“Good boy.” Namjoon murmured, intending it for both Taehyung and Yoongi. He rubbed his hand along Taehyung’s back and placed a palm on Yoongi’s thigh.

Taehyung wrenched the syringe out of Yoongi’s neck once he had injected 2 milligrams, tossing it onto the bedside table with the knife. “Happy?” He spat at Namjoon. He cradled Yoongi’s face gently as he cried.

“Very.” The largest man grinned widely.

Taehyung made a motion to pull Yoongi against his chest, but Namjoon had other plans. He snatched the smaller boyfriend away, ignoring Taehyung’s protests. Namjoon positioned Yoongi so he was sitting up on the bed, resting his side against Namjoon’s chest.

“Watch him. You’ll like it.” Namjoon purred to Taehyung with an infuriating wink before looking down to Yoongi again.

Yoongi tried to keep his gaze focused on Taehyung, he really did, but the edges of his eyes began to blur. His vision fogged up like condensation on a window and his boyfriend’s face became too fuzzy. Yoongi whimpered, terrified that he was losing the ability to see clearly. But even his own cries of fear became garbled. It was like he was listening to himself through an old telephone. Any noise sounded staticky with a thick layer of water separating his ears and the room. His limbs all together felt very heavy and his chin dipped forward in Taehyung’s hands. Yoongi’s hyperventilation steadily calmed into an even breathing pattern. Everything felt cumbersome against his skin, even the air. It was like his mouth, eyes, skin, and skull were filled with cotton.

Yoongi was thoroughly sedated.

Taehyung helplessly stared down at his boyfriend, watching the way Yoongi began to lean into Namjoon for support. It felt like a bomb was going to explode in his chest with the way Yoongi’s eyelids drooped, the way his chin fell, and the way his fingers released tension. He stopped sobbing, stopped gasping for air, and stopped babbling panicked pleas.

“It comes on quick. What’s it like, Yoongi?” Namjoon wrapped an arm around Yoongi’s shoulders and tucked some hair behind his ear, making Taehyung’s eye twitch.

Yoongi swallowed thickly, trying to turn his head towards the direction of the voice. But, his head wouldn’t budge, so his eyes were left sluggishly rolling towards Namjoon. “I feel funny…” The words were garbled as they left his lips, like he was speaking through molasses.

Taehyung wanted to hit something, or more accurately, someone.

Namjoon chuckled and pet Yoongi’s hair gently, though it made the smaller man’s head sway side to side. “That’s okay. Taehyung and I are going to take very good care of you, don’t you worry.”

Taehyung clenched his jaw when he watched Namjoon unwrap his arm from around Yoongi. Without the support, the eldest man slumped forward on himself, tumbling onto the bed with graceless weight. He didn’t even make a sound as he fell over. The drug was taking full effect now.

Yoongi laid face down on the mattress, body contorted into an uncomfortable position with his torso twisted and his arm crossed underneath him. But, he made no effort to fix himself.

Taehyung gulped when he realized Yoongi was immobile.

“Perfect.” Namjoon hummed, reaching out for Yoongi where he laid motionless on the covers.

“I don’t want you touching him.” Taehyung hurried to place himself between Namjoon and his boyfriend on the bed, pressing his palms into Namjoon’s bare chest to stop him.

The larger man tutted, shaking his head slightly. He still had the blood that Taehyung’s nails had drawn smeared across his jaw. “I have to get something out of tonight. And something tells me you’re not willing to spread your legs and take his place, hm?”

Taehyung huffed when Namjoon advanced on him, beginning to nose at his jaw.

When he was met with silence, Namjoon chuckled. “Thought so. I also think I was invited here under pretty suspicious circumstances… The knife in your nightstand, your eagerness to use it, it’s not painting a very innocent picture of you and dear Yoongi.”

Taehyung dug his nails into Namjoon’s chest when the words were murmured into his ear, but didn’t dignify the accusation with a response.

“You’re not doing anything to stop me. That knife is just as sharp as it was before, but you’re not making a move to defend your little love.” Namjoon laughed darkly and went on, “I know my own kind, Taehyung.”

The words made Taehyung’s stomach flip over on itself.

“I’m nothing like you.” He spat in return when Namjoon began kissing his throat. His lips were warm, burning his skin like embers.

“Oh? Maybe you don’t like when they can’t fight back. Maybe you like them kicking and screaming? Is that what it is?” Namjoon wrapped an arm around Taehyung’s waist to pull him closer.

Yoongi laid untouched behind Taehyung’s back, safe for now.

“No.” The youngest muttered as the kisses traveled lower to his collarbones. He stared down at Namjoon’s buzzed head, feeling the man’s heavy fingers dive under the hem of his shirt.

“Then what is it? What makes Taehyung tick?” Namjoon lifted his head to raise an eyebrow at him. “Because a normal person would be fighting me with all their strength, even if it killed them. You on the other hand… Maybe you like this situation more than you think. I want to know what makes you go crazy.”

Taehyung’s lips parted, his breath stuck in his throat, when he was met with a dastardly, carnal, purely lustful expression that he’d never seen on anyone’s face before. Namjoon’s lips were curled up at the corners, his eyes heavily hooded, his nostrils flaring slightly, and the muscles in his brow were just barely drawing the eyebrows upwards. Namjoon’s jaw was loose, relaxed, as if this weren’t the most stressful situation Taehyung or Yoongi had ever been in. This was all fun to him.

Pure, unabashed fun.

Taehyung’s gut burned with something he didn’t quite want to admit he recognized as desire.

“I like the way they look.” He breathed, drawing his hands up to Namjoon’s shoulders.

“Tell me more.” Namjoon purred, returning to kissing across Taehyung’s chest over his shirt. But this time, he didn’t lower his gaze. He continued to stare at the younger man like he wanted to swallow him whole.

“Faces. I like faces. The way they change, the way they twist, the way they can’t hide anything in the moment of pleasure.” Taehyung sighed heavily. “I wish I could take them, keep them for myself. I don’t want to let those expressions go.”

“Why not take photos?” It was a genuine question from Namjoon’s lips against his stomach.

Taehyung huffed an unamused laugh. “I tried. It’s not enough. I just… want them to stay like that forever. I wish I could peel them away, keep them on my wall. But it’s impossible…”

“So you stop them at just the right moment?” Namjoon drew his hands down to Taehyung’s hips.

“Exactly.” The smaller man breathed, sliding his hands onto Namjoon’s back.

“It’s poetic. You’re poetic.” The older man smiled up at him. “I like it.”

Taehyung’s lips just barely twitched.

“And Yoongi?” Namjoon continued, beginning to pull Taehyung’s pants away from his hips. He had long gone soft, but the wet spot on the front of his briefs was still there.

“What about him?” Taehyung bristled at the mention of his precious boyfriend.

Namjoon looked up at Taehyung like it was a stupid response. “He can’t just be alright with your hobby.”

Taehyung rolled his head back and lifted his hips so Namjoon could toss his pants away. He took a look over his shoulder at the form of Yoongi’s body. With a pang in his chest, Taehyung watched his chest rise and fall deeply. Yoongi had managed to turn his head to the side, eyes directed towards the opposite wall with absolutely no semblance of focus.

“It’s not my place to tell you anything about him.” Taehyung murmured while turning back to look at Namjoon. The other man hummed while brushing a hand over the front of Taehyung’s boxers, but didn’t push the subject. Taehyung inhaled deeply when Namjoon’s fingers brushed over his clothed cock.

“Take your shirt off. I want to show you what makes me feel something I can’t fully put into words.” Namjoon crawled past Taehyung while the other shucked his shirt off.

“I said you can’t touch him.” Taehyung warned, eyes darting between Namjoon and the knife on the bedside table, a brief idea of using it rising for the first time since Yoongi had gone down.

“I’m not going to.” Namjoon knelt above Yoongi’s limp body, staring down at him with an expression that was somewhere between predatory and fascinated. Taehyung inhaled through his nose when Namjoon glanced away from Yoongi and towards him. “But you are.”

“I’m not going to rape Yoongi.” Taehyung’s voice was stony as he said it.

Namjoon tutted. “It’s not like that. Come on, turn him over.” He floated his hands over Yoongi’s still form, just inches above the expanse of creamy skin that laid against the bed so delicately heavy.

Taehyung hesitated, staring hard into the side of Namjoon’s face as the stranger looked down at his boyfriend. Namjoon’s expression was stoic, his lips parted slightly, but his eyes were blazing with a deep desire. His pupils were wide as he skimmed over the dips and curves of Yoongi’s body, seeming to hone in on his bleary face.

Taehyung gulped and allowed his gaze to follow Namjoon’s. It’s not like he didn’t take the time to admire Yoongi on a regular basis: he was very aware his boyfriend was magnificent looking. But, just maybe, he could see the appeal of what Namjoon was talking about.

There was something powerful about hovering over Yoongi as he laid there, motionless, so gorgeous and helpless. He knew that Yoongi always agreed to anything he asked, but Taehyung couldn’t help but wonder what Yoongi would feel like under his hands while high on this drug; while Yoongi couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but just let whatever happened to him proceed.

He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

But Taehyung was not the man to abide by a moral code.

Namjoon smiled widely, tongue poking the inside of his cheek, when Taehyung took ahold of Yoongi’s hips and rolled him onto his back. He was harder to move than normal. It almost felt like he was moving one of their victims after they had finished playing, and it made Taehyung’s throat tighten to imagine Yoongi as a corpse.

Namjoon breathed a sigh of wonder when Yoongi’s arm flopped onto his thigh. Namjoon’s spine stiffened at the contact and his jaw tightened. He made no effort to touch him further, but it was obvious that he was affected by feeling Yoongi’s skin touch him through his jeans.

Taehyung bit his lip and gently laid his hands on Yoongi’s waist. “My love…” His breath came out thin. Yoongi’s eyes were distant, staring straight up at the ceiling without focusing on anything in particular. His lips were open about an inch, just enough for the tips of his teeth to peek out. He had a wet patch of drool staining his cheek from where it had dribbled past his lips while lying face down. His hair draped over his forehead haphazardly, and Taehyung couldn’t help but brush it away.

He was shocked when Yoongi chirped quietly from his throat, his lips refusing to move.

“Can he feel when I touch him?” Taehyung turned to Namjoon, who was still staring hard at where Yoongi’s wrist connected with his thigh. The largest man began to undo his pants just above Yoongi’s slack hand.

“Yes.” Namjoon’s voice was airy as he loosened his jeans around his hips. “Touch him.”

Taehyung swallowed and turned back to Yoongi. “I can’t…”

“He’s your boyfriend.”

“But he didn’t want this. He begged me not to.”

“I bet people beg you all the time, but you don’t listen to them do you?”

Taehyung shot a glare sideways at Namjoon’s words. “This is different. I love him.”

“And you’ll love him even more after this.” Namjoon tucked a hand between his jeans and his briefs, palming at the mound with a sigh of relief. Taehyung’s nostrils flared when he realized Namjoon had been getting hard looking at Yoongi’s motionless body. “Just touch him, Taehyung.”

Taehyung sucked on his cheeks and sniffed once. He directed his gaze back towards Yoongi. The smallest man looked exactly like he had before, hadn’t moved even a centimeter. If Taehyung wasn’t looking for it, he’s not sure Yoongi’s breathing would even be noticeable. He was just that limp. Like a doll. Like a really, really pretty doll.

Taehyung hesitantly trailed his hands from Yoongi’s waist lower down his body, taking the time to feel the soft skin dip under his fingertips. Namjoon watched carefully, staring intently at Taehyung’s hands on their path towards Yoongi’s briefs.

When Taehyung’s hand finally took its place over the bulge in Yoongi’s briefs, there was a tiny semblance of a gasp from the immobile man. Taehyung darted his eyes up to Yoongi, but couldn’t see any sort of expression on that blank face.

Namjoon groaned and shoved his own jeans and underwear off his hips. Taehyung watched as he grabbed onto his cock in response to Yoongi’s minimal noise.

“He can get hard.” Namjoon grunted, beginning to jerk his hand around his dick. Taehyung swallowed thickly at the implied order.

“I don’t know if I can-”

“Taehyung, do it.” Namjoon breathed, turning his head to look at the other man. His eyes were alight with a sinister flame.

Taehyung gulped, but his lips opened as he took in Namjoon’s expression. It was intense, made Taehyung’s fingers tremble. His gut swirled with complicated emotions of desire and contempt, but his cock went against all reason and responded by hardening.

Taehyung slowly dipped his fingers inside Yoongi’s briefs, taking hold of his soft dick to hold it gently. There was a faint groan released from the back of Yoongi’s throat, and Namjoon threw his head back with a moan. The stranger rose from the bed and shucked off his jeans haphazardly, allowing Yoongi’s hand to thump on the bed in the wake of his legs. He was obviously affected by Yoongi's predicament.

While Taehyung tentatively moved his hand against Yoongi’s member, he caught a glimpse of Namjoon’s jacket. Where it was splayed open on the bed, Taehyung could see three more syringes secured on an inside panel. Within them, enough midazolam to kill 3 men. Namjoon had brought enough drugs to murder 4 people. But, Namjoon bypassed the drugs to join Taehyung on the bed, hovering over Yoongi.

It seemed they were both in agreement, weapons of choice ignored in favor of fawning over Yoongi’s yielding body.

Taehyung used his free hand to push one of Yoongi’s thighs to the side, eyes carefully trained on his boyfriend’s face. Yoongi’s leg flopped open so Taehyung could slot himself between his thighs. His face didn’t give way besides his lips twitching as if trying to say something.

Namjoon’s breathing was getting heavier where he towered over Yoongi’s stomach, moving his hand around his dick.

“Make him feel good. He can’t tell us, but he’ll feel it.” The largest man breathed, placing his free hand next to Yoongi’s head on the bed. It was close, but he followed Taehyung’s order and didn’t touch.

Taehyung bit his lip and slid Yoongi’s briefs off of his legs. It was a struggle with the way the limbs fell against his body heavily. They were like fawn’s legs, thin and wobbly as Taehyung maneuvered the clothing off of them. They tumbled against his shoulders and he had to grasp Yoongi’s knees tightly to prevent his legs from flopping against the bed. He eventually managed to release Yoongi’s legs from the undergarment and gently flayed them open on the bed.

Yoongi released a slight moan when Taehyung’s hand wrapped around his cock again, and to his boyfriend’s surprise, it was beginning to harden.

Taehyung swallowed thickly, “Yoongi baby?” He tried, though he knew he wouldn’t get a response. But, his boyfriend’s dick twitched in his hand at the pet name.

Namjoon stroked his cock while watching Taehyung fondle Yoongi carefully. “Look at the way he’s starting to leak for you.” He breathed, raising his eyes to meet Taehyung’s.

The youngest man spread the precum from Yoongi’s tip over his cock to slicken the slide. “He really is getting hard…”

“You didn’t believe me?” Namjoon laughed through a gasp.

“I don’t know what to think.” Taehyung admitted, because really, he didn’t believe he himself would get aroused by this either. But there he was, cock hard in his briefs, leaking a wet patch into the fabric as he essentially assaulted his incapacitated boyfriend.

Seeing Yoongi like this was doing unspeakable things to Taehyung. Namjoon was right: this was exhilarating. He felt powerful, like he was fulfilling some sort of need to conquer that he had never felt before. And Yoongi’s face. God, it was perfect. He wasn’t sure which one he loved more, Yoongi’s usual expressions of deranged pleasure while being doused in blood, or the absolute blankness of being drugged out of his mind.

“You can fuck him like this too.” Namjoon panted, bending his supporting arm to get a closer look at Yoongi’s glazed over eyes. “I understand what you were saying about faces…”

Namjoon took the time to bask in the glory of Yoongi’s expression, or more accurately, his lack of one. His jaw was slack, pink lips parted as he breathed shallowly. His deep brown eyes were mirky with no focus, eyebrows heavy over them and lashes threatening to cover them. He looked lost, but serene. Yoongi was up in the clouds with just a simple idea of what was happening to him. He didn’t fully feel, didn’t fully process. But, Yoongi felt pleasure.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to place three fingers into his own mouth. He removed them once he deemed them covered in enough saliva. He continued to jerk Yoongi’s cock while lowering his fingers to between the valleys of his ass cheeks.

Taehyung gasped quietly. “He’s looser than usual.” He breathed in disbelief.

Namjoon grinned sickly and crawled towards Taehyung. “The drug’s a muscle relaxer.” He reached out and slid his hand into Taehyung’s briefs. The youngest man moaned openly this time when Namjoon began to stroke his dick.

“Oh fuck-” Taehyung cursed while sliding two fingers into his boyfriend’s hole with little resistance.

Both men looked up when Yoongi released a whining noise from his chest. His fingers curled just slightly against the bedsheets.

“You can do whatever you want to him, Taehyung. He’s perfect for taking whatever you give him.” Namjoon ran his thumb over Taehyung’s slit and the younger man groaned. Namjoon was sure to use the leaking from Taehyung’s tip to make the slide over his cock wetter.

“I don’t want to hurt him.” Taehyung gasped, thrusting into Namjoon’s hand while pistoning his fingers in and out of Yoongi.

Namjoon rose to his knees beside Taehyung, wrapping an arm around his waist and nosing at his ear. “You won’t.” The whisper was hot in his ear, making Taehyung shudder. “He’s your boyfriend, yeah? He’s made to take you. Look at him, waiting so nicely for you.”

Namjoon’s words spurred Taehyung to press his third finger into Yoongi slowly. There was considerably less tension than there normally was, and Yoongi managed to open his lips wider to release a foggy moan.

“His face is so beautiful.” Taehyung breathed as Namjoon nibbled at the shell of his ear. The large hand on his dick squeezed a bit tighter, making him roll his head to the side.

“Fuck him, Taehyung. Put your cock in Yoongi.” Namjoon’s voice was like a siren song in his ear, and he couldn’t help but comply.

Yoongi could only feel himself shifting slightly as the bed dipped underneath him. The ceiling had become quite a boring sight, all white and drab. He desperately wished he could see his boyfriend, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to see Namjoon quite yet.

It had been scary at first, lying face down and unable to move even an inch. It felt like he was trapped in his own body, a prison made of his own flesh. He heard Taehyung argue with Namjoon, heard them fight over the morals of their situation. It was nerve wracking. What was going to happen to him, face down on the bed and unable to fight back?

But, when Yoongi had felt familiar hands take hold of him, he knew he was safe. All it took was Taehyung’s gentle touch and loving words to turn his uneasy nerves into something warm. He could feel Taehyung’s heavy heartbeat through his palms, and that was enough for Yoongi.

His body dipped with the shape of the bed as Taehyung took his place between his spread thighs. Yoongi faintly felt his neck being raised and lowered, now with a pillow propped underneath so he could see the blurry silhouette of his boyfriend. Taehyung’s body language was so affected, so horny, that it made Yoongi feel like all the fear and drugs were worth it.

If it made Taehyung feel euphoria, Yoongi wanted it.

Yoongi’s arms were placed above his head gently, and he felt Taehyung’s large hands take hold of his thighs.

“That’s it, Taehyung. Good boy…” Namjoon breathed from beside the youngest man. He kissed along Taehyung’s neck to encourage him, tickling his lower back with his fingertips.

Taehyung pumped his dick a few times before directing it towards Yoongi’s slick, loosened hole.

Taehyung made sure to look deep into Yoongi’s eyes as he entered. While Yoongi’s forehead would usually crease with pleasure, his eyebrows drawn up, mouth open wide with a moan, eyes alight with glee, his face was completely still now. Yoongi’s eyes were glossy, eyelids heavy over them. His lips parted just enough for him to gasp, tongue loose against the plump bottom one.

Taehyung swallowed thickly and slid his entire cock inside while watching Yoongi’s face the entire way. Namjoon moaned at the way Yoongi’s body took Taehyung’s length so easily. He was getting red in the chest, so very turned on by the two men he had managed to hold hostage in their own bedroom.

Namjoon took a tight hold of Taehyung’s waist and began to pump his own dick quickly. “Fuck…”

Taehyung began to thrust experimentally. It was a different feeling, Yoongi all loose. Usually he was twitching, tightening around his girth like a hot hug. But now, the slide was so easy it was almost like dipping into a vat of warm honey.

Taehyung’s jaw dropped with a hearty groan.

“Yoongi baby-” He gasped, speeding up his hips and digging his fingers into his boyfriend’s thighs.

Namjoon nipped at Taehyung’s shoulder while thrusting into his own hand.

Yoongi’s fingers twitched next to his head, eyelashes fluttering over his dazed eyes. His pink tongue lolled further out of his mouth and a fat droplet of saliva dripped from its tip onto his chest. Taehyung couldn’t help but pound harder at the erotic sight.

Finally, the sensation grew to the point that Yoongi was able to groan from the back of his throat. It was faint, more like distant garbles as he drooled on himself, but Taehyung and Namjoon were thrilled at the response.

Namjoon panted as he jerked his hand around his erect cock. “He’s so fucking pretty.”

“I know.” Taehyung grunted as he thrusted wildly into his boyfriend.

Yoongi’s unrestrained moans blurred together to create an incoherent mess. His hands laid limp next to his head, legs splaying open loosely and falling against Taehyung’s thighs.

“Doesn’t he look good like this?” Namjoon slithered his arm around Taehyung’s shoulders and whispered in his ear. He licked the shell with his hot tongue, making the younger man shudder.

“He always looks good.” Taehyung gripped Yoongi’s thighs tightly, staring down at his boyfriend’s hazy eyes.

Namjoon laughed lowly, hand moving rapidly around his own cock. “Of course, but right now doesn’t he seem absolutely perfect?”

Taehyung groaned loudly. He focused solely on Yoongi’s face: his drooly pink lips shiny with saliva, blush painted across Yoongi’s cheekbones and nose. His eyes looked like a doll’s, rolling around freely in his skull as he was fucked. Taehyung ground his hips deep into Yoongi and the smaller man whined hazily at the sensation.

“Fucking hell, get me the knife.” Taehyung swore breathily at Namjoon.

“What?” The other man sounded genuinely surprised by Taehyung’s request.

“The knife, Namjoon! He likes blood. I want to make him cum for us.” Taehyung’s words came out more frantic as he drew closer to his own completion.

Namjoon didn’t need to be told twice. He dove for the knife and placed it in Taehyung’s hand. It was risky, but lust clouds the mind, especially when it was this intense.

Namjoon watched with wide eyes, hand still pumping around his cock, as Taehyung wrapped his own hand around Yoongi’s. While continuing to pound into his boyfriend, Taehyung directed the knife to his own arm with practiced ease.

Yoongi’s vision was blurred, but when he saw the color of bright red against deep tan, he felt like he was floating out of his own body. He felt Taehyung’s watery blood join the wet slide against his dick, and his chest puffed up with pleasure. From the crimson waterfall on his forearm, Taehyung’s warmth bathed Yoongi’s hips, that sweet gore soaking him in the way he loved.

Taehyung and Namjoon watched as Yoongi’s eyeballs rolled back into his head, tongue falling out of his mouth with an obscene moan.

“That’s it, Yoongi.” Namjoon breathed in amazement. He’d never seen something so erotic.

“Come on, baby. You’re my love.” Taehyung jerked his bloody hand around Yoongi’s cock while pounding into his warm hole.

Namjoon watched with wide eyes when Taehyung leaned forward to place the blade against Yoongi’s chest. It stood vertically, point balancing dangerously on Yoongi’s breastbone. There was only a layer of skin between the blade and the bone. Namjoon panted when he saw the skin dip under the pressure of the sharp metal.

Through the fog of the drug, Yoongi swore he was being sent to heaven. Taehyung was sliding deep within him, he was painted red with delectable saccharine, and there was a threat of a knife above his heart. He tried to focus his eyes on Taehyung’s face as it drew closer, but he couldn’t quite do it.

Taehyung pressed his lips firmly to Yoongi’s, but was met only with limp lips and tongue covered in slimy drool. Possessively, he sucked Yoongi’s tongue into his mouth for a moment.

Namjoon gasped for air needily. He placed a firm hand on Taehyung’s lower back as he bucked his hips wildly. With a moan of desperation, watching as Yoongi’s limp, bloody body jostled around on the bed, he shot his load onto the backs of Taehyung’s tense thighs. He dug his fingernails into the tan skin as he rolled his head back in ecstasy.

Yoongi released what could only be described as a hazy wail as his cock spurted little fountains of white cum. Taehyung’s hand worked him through the orgasm, and it felt absolutely strange to be unable to twitch through it. He simply had to lay there, muscles loose, as he came over the bloody mess on his hips.

Taehyung swallowed Yoongi’s moan with delight, thighs trembling, savoring the feeling of reaching his peak in the invited hug of his boyfriend’s legs. He sat back and made sure to fix his gaze on Yoongi’s blank face. Looking over the perfect visage, with a final groan of complete satisfaction, Taehyung painted Yoongi’s insides a pretty shade of white.

As Taehyung rolled his hips into Yoongi to ride out his orgasm, feeling Namjoon’s large hands on his hips from behind, he allowed the knife to clatter to the floor. Taehyung laid his head against Yoongi’s chest and trapped his bleeding arm between them. Yoongi just barely felt the warmth of Taehyung’s blood smearing up towards his chest as his boyfriend placed gentle kisses on his collarbones.

The bed dipped next to the couple when Namjoon collapsed beside them. He draped an arm over Taehyung’s waist, but didn’t touch Yoongi. He simply laid his hand close to the oldest man’s; maybe when the drug had worn off, Yoongi would link their fingers yet again.

Namjoon looked deeply into Taehyung’s eyes, a small smile playing on his lips as he panted. “I told you you’d like it.”

Taehyung huffed breathily, turning his chin to look up at Yoongi.

The smallest man’s head had tumbled to one side with all the movement. His eyes were open, but his awareness was nowhere to be seen. All Yoongi could see was blurs of colors, and he was very happy that red was included in the kaleidoscope of his vision.

Taehyung turned back to Namjoon and laid his cheek against his boyfriend’s limp, bloody chest. Namjoon watched as Taehyung’s face was smeared with his own blood. He flattened his hand against Taehyung’s side to hold him tighter.

“You’re beautiful. Yoongi is beautiful.” Namjoon breathed, his eyes hooded. Taehyung noticed the way his jaw was relaxed and his brows were heavy over his eyes. “You showed me something new.”

Taehyung’s lips twitched into a smile. “You did the same for us.”

“I won’t do it by force again.” Namjoon jested, the muscles of his cheeks pulling his lips into a grin.

Taehyung placed a hand against the back of Namjoon’s head and rubbed the short hair there. “Will he remember it?”

“Parts of it. He’ll remember what happened before, but what happened during will be hit or miss.”

Taehyung sighed at Namjoon’s explanation. “Just you wait for what Yoongi has to say to us…”

Namjoon hummed softly. “I imagine I’ll have my ass handed to me on a platter.”

“An understatement.” Taehyung murmured.

“Well, I can’t wait.” Namjoon drew small patterns into Taehyung’s ribs.

Taehyung placed a gentle kiss into Yoongi’s bloodied skin.

“We can’t wait either.”