He waits, being on the top floor. Doing his best to be unattainable to him downstairs. Knowing what consequences that might bring. Feeling immensely unstimulated by the fact that he has to wait. He wants something to happen, he wants him to be the catalyst. It's more interesting that way.

He sits with his laptop on his knees, doing his usual round. Mail, Youtube, porn, news just to see if something engages him but as always, it's a no-go. Twitter, porn, Facebook. The university's website. Gay porn. He feels a prickle, somewhere in his head. Seeing the guy bottoming incapacitated with his hands tied behind his back doesn't do much for him. If anything. The guy topping, though…

He's not gay. He just enjoys what it looks like. The conquering. The dominance. A man can always conquer a woman, that's not even up for debate. It becomes boring, way too quick. But there's a different dynamic to gay sex. There's a power struggle, even if there's no blatant intent. Something that excites him.

That prickle in his head becomes a tap when the guy on top switches positions forcefully. Still inside. It becomes a knock when the top's hands reaches around the bottom's neck. It becomes an almost ear-deafening boom inside, one that shakes his core, when the bottom passes out, regains consciousness and passes out again. It looks beautiful.

He wants that too. He wants to feel in control, he wants to be the one deciding over him. If he's lucid or not. If he's lucid or not. If he's alive or not. He's tried a lot of different ways already, some better than others. Seeing him hang by the noose around his neck, hearing him calling his name to beg for mercy… That was a good moment. That made him feel alive, the rush was incredible.

Pressing him against the body of that disgusting man that asked him for a blowjob, that was wonderful too. Seeing how the knife just slid inside his belly, with no resistance. Pushing it further in with the help of that thin, effeminate excuse of a man. Seeing the reaction of them both dying, at the same time, in different ways. He grows hard thinking about it. That was magical. He even kept a trophy.

Can't he just do something? I want the release.


"Bum! I'm going out," he says whilst sitting down on his heels. He ruffles his hair. "It'll only be a couple of hours. Okay?"

"Yes, Sangwoo." Bum's lying on the mattress next to the closet, eyes being nothing but small slits. Dressed in clothes that does nothing for his masculinity. He really isn't a man, pawing over him like the perverted freak he is. On the other hand, it makes it easier to pretend, to make it slightly more okay in his head to kiss him. To let him fondle with his tiny hands. Strange how he never objects to wearing a skirt. It would be more fun if he did.

He walks out, stands to think in front of the door to the outside for a moment. The outside, that's where he becomes someone else. Someone much more dreary. He scoffs. No, that's just not true. He's blossoming out there. Becoming more and more interested by the hunt. Becoming more skilled with the chase. The small scenarios where he finds his intellect to be challenged. How to make people come with him is what he loves. Internally laughing at their stupidity when he says all the things they want to hear. When the women coo, when the men adjust their cocks in pants too constricting. That's what he loves, because he's the one gets to take all that away. The feeling afterwards is better than any orgasm. Lasts longer too.

He puts his shoes on and opens the door, closes it a second later. He silently walks up the stairs and waits. Something is bound to happen, and he's ready for it. He feels the anticipation hard to contain. Before he reclines, he looks over the handrail. Down on the floor. He smiles, puts his hands behind his head and drifts off to sleep.

He awakes to the faint noises of beeps. His heart suddenly beats a little faster, knowing very well that he's got all the reasons to intervene. It was so easy. He sits up, softly. Making sure to not make any noise. Oh, indeed. He is past the line, his mobile in his hands. It was indeed so easy to lead him astray. That weak mind in that feeble body... It's fucking insulting how simple it is. How dare he?

He hears him sob. That reaction is priceless, it only took so much. He tries to hear what he's mumbling, but decides that he'll get it out of him eventually. He's got him pretty much figured out, knowing he wouldn't call for help but instead, be all over his personal shit. Although, he wants to know if it's the pictures or the texts that turns him into a heap of quivers. It's really laughable watching him from above, he seems even more insignificant.

"Hey, Bum! What'cha doing?" He walks down the stairs, there's no need to rush. It's not like he can go anywhere. "Are you always picking up stuff that aren't yours? You a thief? Ever considered that I want my privacy, too?"

"Sa… Sangwoo. I… No, please." He looks up, eyes overflowing. "It was there, on the floor, I… Please, I didn'tㅡ"

"You've gone past the line too? What, are you retarded? I told you not to, didn't I?" He sighs. Not understanding that display with wails, tears and trembles. He never will. Nor does he care.

"I can… I can make you feel good! You liked that before, right? Sangwoo, please, I… I'm sorry!"

"You're such a slut." He extends his hand, waiting for him to grab hold. He does, instantly. That feeling of gratification makes him heady. "Why do you keep saying that? It doesn't work on me, I don't like guys." He yanks him by the arm until he's somewhat standing before he scoops him up.

"No, no, no, Sangwoo! Not the basement, please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" His cries grow louder as they enter the room, as they face the closet. But he doesn't fight, squirm or kick. He latches on to him instead. A hand creeps underneath the collar of his shirt, digging into his shoulder.

"It wasn't my intention." He drops him on the floor, hearing the thud his body creates at his feet. His shoulder stings, but he disregards it. "Now. Let's talk. And you'll be quiet, yes?"

"Yes! I'll be quiet, just don'tㅡ"

He presses Bum's face against the floor. Putting his entire weight on his temple. Feeling the crunch against his palm makes him smile. Hearing him plead makes him snicker. But only on the inside. He tries to keep it that way.

It's important to remember that he made him do this, by talking back with his 'sorry'. Disobeying him by crossing lines. Provoking with his straying hands. He was just too bold, too unruly.

"Sangwoo, pl… please! It hurts, you're hurting me!" His voice was loud. Again, he wasn't keeping his word. To be silent. To be compliant. That was a breach in trust.

"I told you to shut up. Didn't I? I asked you nicely." He bends over, making sure that the doesn't support himself on his free arm. Pushing down his weight not only on his temple, but on his cheek as well. He looks into his eyes. Those, weepy, pathetic eyes that always look so desperate for some unknown reason. Especially when he feels accommodating.

It amuses him. Seeing the rest of his body writhe but his head is pinned down. Making the skirt shift, exposing his ass. He should be still, but he's got some fight in him. That's promising for later, but right now. He's not respecting him at all.

He moves his hand, pushing down on his temple again. "Aren't you happy?" He opens his mouth and lets a thin string of saliva fall down on Bum's cheek, drizzling it with the help of his tongue. "See, it's like a kiss. That's what you want, right?"

"San… Sangwoo…"

"Still not satisfied?" He scoffs. "Aren't you needy? Like most sluts, you just want more. With no concern how that makes me feel."

But it's true. He is needy. No matter what he offers Bum, he wants and he takes whatever scraps he's given. Never complaining, just being hard and unsatisfied. Full of moans, mostly oohs and aahs. Sometimes other sounds escape him too, the more interesting ones. The ones where he cries out, but not out of pleasure. It seems like that line is extremely thin, and not knowing what treatment evokes what response is slightly unsettling. This will be the day he finds out.

"I'll give you more. Stay." He takes his hand off Bum's temple, smears the saliva on his cheek before he stands up. "Do not move."

A kitchen can contain many treasures. A cloth, plastic bags, duct tape… And some other things as well. He feels giddy as he makes his decisions.

"Bum," he says as he returns, sitting next to him on the floor, "you've gone through my phone. Now, I want to know things about you. That's only fair." The look he gets in return is bewildered, but he doesn't care. He starts with his questions right away.

"How did you enter my apartment?"

"...no, I…"

"Three, two onㅡ"

"I figured out the code! For the front door!"

"See, I love it when you can be honest with me. It's easy! I'm a really forgiving guy." He laughs. "The man you killed, your first kill, what did it feel like?"

Tears well up instantly in Bum's eyes, and he begins to crawl into a fetal position.

"Oh, is that too personal? Well… Okay." He rips a plastic bag from the roll and puts it over Bum's head. "This has got to do with trust. You leave it there until I say so. If you really mean what you say you do, you leave it on." He rips off a strip of tape and secures the edges of the bag with it, making sure not to wrap the tape too tight. At first, at least.

"So," he resumes, "that man. What did you feel, Killer?" He puts his chin against his hand, observing him. This is a new favorite pastime. Finding out what builds and breaks him.

The bag becomes steamed up immediately, and Bum's hands are quick to rip the bag apart.

Without a second's hesitation, he takes a swing at him. Hits him across the mouth. "That's not what we agreed to. Again." He rips off a new plastic bag. When he's trying to put it over Bum's head again, his hands are putting up a fight. He feels the rush within seconds. He drops the bag and grabs one of the flailing wrists, using his other hand to reach for the duct tape.

It's easy to overpower him. He just flips him over to his stomach and puts a knee between his shoulder blades. He feels a flutter of disappointment. A lot of things are easy with him. Too easy.

He bends Bum's arm backwards and tapes them together. Now, he's the one deciding when he's allowed to draw breath. It feels… better. More like it should. But, as soon as his arms are taped together, he loses the will to fight. He just remains as still as one can when crying frantically. Yet another disappointment.

"Okay… this is a let down. Man… And I'm just trying to get to know you, you know?" He sighs. "I'm giving you one more chance to make you redeem yourself. If you're smart, you take it." He strokes his hair before he opens the plastic bag with a flick of his wrist. "If you relax, you'll last longer. And I think you're going to want that."