8: Just Like We Prefer

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"What are we gonna do about him now, Choi?" Taehyung asked as he spared a glance at the boy shivering in the corner of the dimly lit room. The boy's eyes were wide with terror, his body trembling uncontrollably. Every few seconds, he would let out a soft whimper, barely audible over the low hum of the overhead lights. His wrists and ankles were bound with rough ropes, leaving red, irritated marks on his pale skin.

Seungcheol chuckled nonchalantly, a cold, detached smile playing on his lips. "I don't know, you and JK can do your work. Or do you wanna play more?"

Taehyung smirked, his gaze flickering back to Seungcheol. "Well, I have to say, your collection is pretty good. This one was really good. Virgin and tight, just like we prefer."

Seungcheol's grin widened in satisfaction. "Hwan said he's an orphan. Nobody would ever question if an orphan vanishes all of a sudden, right?"

"Absolutely not. But JK is okay with all of this?" Taehyung asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"Why wouldn't he be? He still thinks of me just as a friend anyways," Seungcheol replied with a casual shrug.

Taehyung let out a bitter laugh. "Why did he like you anyway?"

"Well, I don't know. For him, we can't say he wanted to get fucked by me. So, I don't know. I have no idea, buddy," Seungcheol said, lifting both of his hands in defense.

"He's literally a dumb fuck to fall in love with you. Like everyone who says that he or she loves you is a dumb fuck. You are not a forever person, Cheol."

Seungcheol sighed, his expression momentarily softening. "Who knows, probably I'll fall in love with someone too, maybe in my 30s or something."

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. "But Choi, you sure to bury him alive?"

Seungcheol's lips curved into a mischievous grin. "If you don't want to, then let me make it easy for you."

With a deliberate, almost lazy grace, Seungcheol got up from his seat and walked towards the boy. Taehyung's eyes followed him, a mixture of anticipation and indifference in his gaze. Seungcheol crouched down to match the level of the boy, whose constant weeping grew louder as he sensed the imminent danger.

Seungcheol reached out, gently lifting the boy's chin so their eyes met. "Shh, don't cry. It'll be over soon," he whispered with a sinister calmness.

The boy's sobs turned into desperate, choked breaths. He tried to shrink away, but the ropes held him firmly in place. Seungcheol's expression was almost tender as he brushed a tear from the boy's cheek, but his eyes held a glint of sadistic pleasure.

"Let's see how long you can hold your breath," Seungcheol murmured, standing up slowly. He glanced back at Taehyung, who was watching with a detached interest. "Shall we begin?"

"So who's the manwhore now, boy toy?" Seungcheol taunted, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

Keeho lifted his face and looked at Seungcheol, his eyes red and puffy from all the crying. His body was marred with wounds and cuts, but his gaze remained fixed on Seungcheol's with a defiant intensity.

"You," Keeho said, his voice low yet unwavering.

Seungcheol's expression darkened. He grabbed Keeho's hair harshly, yanking their faces close together. "How dare you talk back to ME?" he screamed, his voice echoing through the room. Even Taehyung flinched at the outburst, but Keeho remained unfazed.

"Maybe your useless dick inside me made me that fearless," Keeho spat back.

"Baby boy, you wanna die?" Seungcheol hissed, his grip tightening.

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