Chanbaek Fics

20

Title: Hurt me Like a Knife (And I'll be the Bonnie to your Clyde)

Posted on: LiveJournal

Author: rhapsodyofchaos

Another murder happens.

It's been the fifth one this month, this time the victim an elderly woman who lived in a shack on the skirts of Seoul. The rusty metal shack reeks of decay and the stench of rot, and Baekhyun has to bend down to get through the small, jagged aluminium hole that was supposed to resemble a door. He grunts as the back of his neck tingles with pain, and he mentally notes to bend lower the other time round. The field forensics greet him quietly as he enters, squatting down to where the woman was lying lifelessly on the tiled floor. He grimaces at the sight and bows solemnly in respect before fully inspecting the victim. The lady's black and blue, a pudgy pile of meat with veins tracing up and down her limbs in green and purple lines. A skinny crimson mark is evident on her wrinkly neck, and the forensics confirm Baekhyun's assumption.

"-death by asphyxiation. Time of death was around 6pm last night. The assailant probably used a metal wire, judging by the harshness of the mark. Also, she's been stabbed three times, in the stomach, liver and chest, but judging by the blood and skin surrounding the wounds they were made after her death."

Baekhyun nods, then walks over to Jongdae, who was carefully collecting soil traces left on the floor in tiny sealed bags. Jongdae looks up gravely when Baekhyun reaches him.
"There's nothing missing, presumably. Her savings weren't touched, nor was her ID or important documents, and there isn't any evidence of physical resistance during the murder that we can find around the-," Jongdae looks around at the near empty house, save for a bed, table and a pile of newspapers and recyclable cans and plastics. "-furniture. She wasn't killed for money or information, but not that she would have had much of either." Exactly the same as the other cases. Baekhyun sighs, clasping his gloved hands together anxiously as he crawls out of the shack with Jongdae for the photographers to document the scene of crime.

"The difference this time was that the killer had actually left a small trace."
Jongdae starts, a smug smile seeping its way onto his tired face as Baekhyun visibly lights up and stares at Jongdae as if he was messiah.

"We found traces of cloth on a few of the edgy bits around the top of the entrance to the scene of crime, and although so far we don't know what brand or style it was originally from yet, it can be inferred that the criminal is most likely male." Baekhyun nods, agreeing as he pats Jongdae on the shoulder as silent thanks. A woman of average height and size could've easily slipped into the shack, while for a man of a taller height the job would've been much more cramped, making Jongdae's assumption entirely plausible.

"Isn't today your day off though?" Jongdae asks curiously as he slips off his silicon gloves, grimacing at the smell and stretching his arms in the morning sun.

"Chanyeol isn't back from work until eight tonight, so I thought might as well." Baekhyun says nonchalantly as he gets handed documents by various members of the forensic and police force, but Jongdae sees right through him and reaches over to shake Baekhyun's shoulder's giddily.

"You've only gone out for a month with this guy and you're already this smitten? I must meet him sometime. Stop keeping me away from him, I promise I won't seduce him...or not." Baekhyun shoots his best friend a look and strides towards his car, a small smile hidden on his lips as Jongdae follows and invites himself in.




He had met Chanyeol a month back during a press conference on the serial killings that had started to happen around Seoul. The younger was a journalist at The Korean Times, and was eager to ask questions on how the police force operated on site and how the victim would be inspected and examined for evidence. After the conference the lanky journalist had approached Baekhyun, the officer leading the investigation force of the killings, and told him how impressed he was with his organization of the murder aftermaths, wondering if he could do an interview with him. That interview turned out to be a date, leading to where they were now.

The victims of the murders never lost any wealth, important belongings and were not people of a particularly high social (or suspiciously fishy) backgrounds, with all of them dying from asphyxiation from a thin metal chain or wire. The killer did not discriminate against sex or age (Baekhyun sighs at that, picky killers were much more easier to track down), killing so far a young girl, a teenage boy, a working woman, a retired man and lastly, the elderly woman he had just seen. It seemed as if the killer had just recklessly gone around and pin-pointed random citizens as victims, which has recently set Seoul into a state of panic and has Baekhyun racking his brains out as he tries to trace bits and pieces of information together, trying to find something to chain up the whole ordeal. So far the only concrete piece of information (or assumption, rather) is that the killer is a man.

Jongdae thinks of it optimistically ("We've narrowed it down to half the city's population!"), but Baekhyun just wants to give up and curl into Chanyeol's long arms and sleep until he wants to wake up.



He's finally finished with all the necessary paperwork. It's almost ten, and Baekhyun slaps himself mentally, knowing that Chanyeol was probably waiting up for him. He hastily leaves his documents behind and grabs his black working bag from his chair, rushing out of the police station, fretting and feeling apologetic as he runs down the concrete steps.

"Even without looking at you I already know you'd skip dinner."

A deep voice resonates behind him, and Baehyun's heart jumps and he turns around to realise that Chanyeol had been waiting behind one of the many grey pillars of the entrance of the station, clad in a white button up and black jeans. Baekhyun breaks into a smile, and Chanyeol gives him a blinding one in return.

"Sorry, lost track of time again."

His stomach grumbles grumpily as Chanyeol produces a plastic bag of takeaway from behind his back, and Baekhyun almost snatches it from him, but not before planting a dry peck on the corner of the other's pink mouth. Baekhyun swings the takeaway in one hand and holds Chanyeol's large, rough hand in the other as they walk towards Baekhyun's parked car.

They arrive at Baekhyun's and Chanyeol sets the takeaway into the microwave as Baekhyun takes a well-deserved bath. The second Baekhyun steps out from the bathroom a pair of strong hands slinks themselves around his middle and pulls him in for a nice, steamy kiss, Chanyeol humming softly against Baekhyun's mouth as the other buries himself in Chanyeol's shoulder. The shorter sighs in exhaustion and allows the younger to carry him into the bedroom, settling him down in the sheets and pulling the duvet up to tuck him in, the takeaway forgotten. Chanyeol presses a light kiss onto Baekhyun's forehead, then turns around to leave, if not for Baekhyun's hand coiling around his wrist.

"Stay."

That's more than enough for Chanyeol to smile and crinkle his large eyes in happiness, rolling onto the bed and purposely landing on Baekhyun who grunts and looks at him with a mixture of adoration and annoyance. The journalist wraps an arm around Baekhyun's shoulders and uses the other to turn off the bedside lamp, the two drifting off to sleep.




The news that another murder had happened spread rapidly like a ripple in a lake. A cascade of anxiety and paranoia polluted the city, and the Police force announced another press conference to relieve (or rekindle, Baekhyun thinks) the people's distress. He hurries to the conference, documents in hand and glasses almost falling off his nose bridge, crashing into a human boulder.

"Cha- What are you doing here?"

Baekhyun asks with a heavy sigh as he picks up the dropped documents desperately, clawing them from the floor as Chanyeol does the same, his tall frame looking unnatural as he hunches down to retrieve the papers. The shorter sighs and repositions his glasses, looking pointedly at Chanyeol for an explanation. Chanyeol simply shrugs in that stupid, easy going manner that Baekhyun almost hates sometimes.

"It's a press conference Baek, and I'm part of the press."

He says that with a hint of defensiveness, holding out his reporter badge out. Baekhyun nods apologetically as they both head to the conference, splitting up halfway as Baekhyun travels to the front of the room to sit beside some of the higher ups. He feels awfully small infront of the flashes of cameras and his superiors with honour badges tessellated (almost) across their chests. Chanyeol gives him a wave from the back of the room and his gut jerks funnily, a warm heat spreading across his cheeks as he clears his throat and looks down at his papers, trying to act professional.

It's the usual deal, as far as press conferences go. The higher ups drone on and on about the situation and how the investigation team is sovery organized and that there should be no distress from the citizens, that they should trust the police. They ocassionally refer to Baekhyun and he nods in agreement, though fully knowing that by doing that and claiming how efficient the investigation team was, his higher ups were ready to send him out as the scapegoat and the one to blame if anything went wrong. Typical superiors, saving their own skin, Baekhyun thinks, not even given a chance to actually talk about the new findings from the new case. Just when he couldn't think that he'd love Chanyeol even more, the tall bugged eyed idiot raises his hand up to ask the question Baekhyun had been sitting through hell for.

"Officer Byun, may I ask if there were any new findings concerning the new murder?"

Baekhyun puts on his sternest expression and clears his throat, looking directly at Chanyeol, who was biting softly on his recording pen and has his camera at the ready.

"Yes, there was."

He doesn't miss the way Chanyeol raises his eyebrows in surprise. Or was that fear?

"The police force now has a lead that the serial killer is a tall male, judging by some cloth traces left on the entrance to the crime scene."
Chanyeol tenses and manages a grimace. Baekhyun looks at him with confusion, carrying on.

"The investigation team wants to ask for trust from the public, and that we will try our very best to catch the killer as soon as possible."
Baekhyun finishes with a nod, wondering if it was safe to disclose so much information to the press. He had left out the part about finding soil samples just in case. He looks towards his officers and they look at him approvingly, satisfied that the public now at least had knowledge that the police force had finally found a lead and that the killer was one step closer to being caught. When he turns back to the press, Chanyeol was gone.



He doesn't see Chanyeol for the rest of the day, spending his time at the forensics and with Jongdae to evaluate the evidence collected. There wasn't much to evaluate, really, since the case was almost identical to the ones before, but there were still the cloth traces and the soil that had to be fully examined. Part of his mind darts minutely to how Chanyeol looked almost terrified during the press conference, and how he disappeared when it was a silent agreement that they'd go for a coffee or lunch afterwards, just relaxing or discussing the case vaguely because Baekhyun wasn't allowed to talk about it in detail.

"-different to the ones around the scene of crime. Baekhyun are you even listening?"

Jongdae nudges him in the shoulder and by reflex, Baekhyun flinches away and pushes Jongdae off his chair, the younger tumbling loudly onto the floor as he swears under his breath.

"Jesus fucking Christ Baekhyun, what is wrong with you?"

Jongdae asks rhetorically, scowling slightly before moving his chair back and starts to rearrange the documents again, ready to repeat what he had said earlier. It was a quality he really admired about Jongdae, the fact that he could be so fucking nosy about every single aspect of his personal life when they're out of work and yet is fully professional and knows how to keep his distance when he's working, also tolerating any of Baekhyun's weird mood swings and stressful sighing. Baekhyun pats him on the shoulder lightly as an apology as the younger clears his throat and glances at him to make sure he was focused.

"The culprit was wearing a blue striped cotton shirt from the brand xxxxx, and from the state of the fabric it's quite new, probably a month at the most. The soil traces on the floor is a different mineral make up from the soil surrounding the shack, but from matching the soil to different soil types around the region, it's a dead end. Similar to any soil we can find around Seoul. The only thing we could confirm is that the culprit is most definitely a tall man with big feet, looking at the curve the soil made around the sole." Jongdae says as he rubs his shoulder in pain.

"Basically we're back to where we started then?" Baekhyun grumbles, slumping on the desk.

"No, not really." And Baekhyun perks up. Jongdae smiles like a parent hiding a present from their child.

"Think about it. Would any murderer wear a fucking blue striped cotton shirt from a noticeable brand to murder a wrinkly grandmother?" Jongdae glances at him as if it's obvious, and Baekhyun just gestures for him to carry on, his brain having no room to deduce anything at the moment.

"There would be only two explanations- one is that the murderer is a flamboyant, idiotic fashion enthusiast," Jongdae fits in a hollow chuckle "-or the other is that the murderer is someone the victim was familiar with. This would also explain why there was so little evidence of resistance seen around the furniture and the shack in general."

Baekhyun furrows his brows, his brain finally clicking as the new information oils up his thinking clockwork. Familiar. Resistance. Shirt.
"How about the shirt though? Why would the murderer choose to wear a sky blue cotton shirt out of nowhere? He could always show up in all black, couldn't he?"

Jongdae looks speechless for a moment, then catches on quickly.

"Well, then maybe this person isn't familiar with the victim at all- which means he would try to look familiar or friendly, or maybe it's his profession that needs him to look friendly and approachable, like a social worker, or a..." He pauses for a moment, and Baekhyun's eyes widen.

"Journalist."




Baekhyun racks his brain around what he and Jongdae had deduced all the way back home, his hands trembling around the steering wheel as he turns into the outdoor carpark. A cold wind hits him as he gets out of his car, and the dark night doesn't seem as peaceful or friendly anymore.
But then he sees Chanyeol, walking out from the building lobby, eyes bright and smile dazzling and just so happy to see him, that everything feels alright for a while. Baekhyun smiles and they share a silent greeting, their hands intertwining as Baekhyun locks the car and they walk back to the lobby across the gravelly road.

For a few steps Chanyeol subconsciously walks a step quicker than Baekhyun, and the moonlight is just bright enough for a ray to land on Chanyeol's milky neck where his collar had flipped back slightly, now polluted by a small angry mark across the back. When Baekhyun reaches up to caress the curious wound, Chanyeol flinches away immediately, then looks back at the confused Baekhyun to explain.
"I went to tailor a suit and the seamstress wasn't the best at pinning."
Baekhyun wrinkles his brows and purses his lips at the alibi as Chanyeol looks away, clutching his hand tighter.
Chanyeol never gets suits tailored.
And the dark night doesn't seem as peaceful or friendly anymore.



He knew that this could potentially ruin everything, that it was wrong to distrust his boyfriend and that maybe it was overly paranoid for him to do so. But Chanyeol had been at every single press conference regarding the case, asking the same question over and over again and understanding all of the police investigation methods. He's hurt himself newly across the back of his neck, the spot Baekhyun too had hit when he clambered into the rusty shack. Chanyeol was tall enough, and Chanyeol had a profession that would make him seem friendly and approachable. Chaneyol would also return home later than Bakehyun sometimes, coming back at the dead of the nigt with grin. There were too many coincidences in the equation for Baekhyun not to worry about.

So here he was, going through his boyfriend's wardrobe while the other was at work. He flips open doors and pulls out drawers to find the blue cotton button up he had brought Chanyeol after spilling coffee over the other a few weeks ago.
Can't be older than a month.
He's sweating with anxiety as he finally finds it, buried deep at the side of the largest wardrobe cabinet. He runs fingers down the collar, praying that it's smooth, unblemished, and not damaged in anyway.
A tall male. A friendly profession. Journalist.
A part of him almost wishes that it was damaged, so the case would be closed and everyone would be safe again. But if Chanyeol was the serial killer and the serial killer had to be caught he-
The train of thought dislodges itself from the tracks. The collar was smooth, as brightly coloured as a brand new shirt. Baekhyun heaves a sigh of relief.

But then it hits him.

This shirt was too new. It wasn't the shirt Baekhyun had brought Chanyeol, the one he had made fun of because Chanyeol had worn it so often that the seams were beginning to let loose and the colour had started fading. It was a brand new shirt, without the ripped seams or the little balls of grey lint and the smell of Chanyeol's musky cologne.

Baekhyun's not sure what to be hurt about- the fact that Chanyeol might very well be the psychotic serial killer running loose around Seoul, or the fact that Chanyeol had thrown away the shirt he had-they had- both liked so much. He's bombarded by a mixture of feelings- responsibility, obligation, love, lust, trust, deceit, betrayal, happiness, disgust, and many more, that he doesn't notice when the front door clicks and Chanyeol's striding into the room, a smile faltering on his face as he quickly reads the situation, seeing Baekhyun sitting in a pile of his clothes.

"Baek, what are you doing here, don't you have work today?" Chanyeol asks, hiding his shock and forcing a grin onto his lips as the other turns around with a practised smile.

"I'm just finding something of yours to wear, I haven't done my laundry in such a long time."

Baekhyun makes an effort to pout, looking straight up at Chanyeol with distressed eyes as he reaches into the pile with trembling hands and lifts the sky blue shirt up for Chanyeol to see. There's a flash of confusion and violence flashing across the other's ridiculously large eyes and Baekhyun shivers uncomfortably as Chanyeol grins a little too widely. He tenses when the taller moves towards him and kneels down, holding the shirt and breathing in its scent before looking at Baekhyun in a way that would've made his heart melt just a day ago. Now it looked like a monster trying to smile.

"Remember this?" Chanyeol asks in a gentle voice, one hand fiddling with the buttons of the shirt and his other reaching up to caress Baekhyun's face, so softly that it hurts. He could kill me right now, snap my throat or clench my neck until I run out of air and die,Baekhyun thinks as he leans into the touch, nodding against Chanyeol's large palm.

He feels inclined to push away Chanyeol when the other leans in to kiss him, and he feels very obligated to reach behind him to pull out his authorized gun to shoot him right then and there until Chanyeol's life bleeds out of him when their tongues meet. He feels desperately compelled to kick the other in the crotch and then latching his hands together in a shiny pair of handcuffs when Chanyeol grinds against him and he groans and everything doesn't seem to matter.

But he doesn't.

It's fucking disgusting how much he doesn't want this to end.



It's the morning after, and Baekhyun's still lying in bed with the serial killer. He knows that Chanyeol knows that he knows, and he's really not quite sure what to do about it because Chanyeol's acting as if Baekhyun's simply discovered a new hobby of his and ignoring the fact that this hobby was watching people struggling for air and choking against metal. And that's the problem, because he's supposed to be sure about criminals, about people who kill people for no reason, to bring people to justice with no nepotism or favouritism induced. A part of him is screaming out he's been sleeping with you for information and as a cover up and he just wants to shut those thoughts out of his head, digging his chin into Chanyeol's soft pale neck as the other sleeps serenely.

I could kill him, Baekhyun realises as he nips softly at the skin, giving it a kiss.

I could end it right now, Baekhyun runs that thought again through his mind as Chanyeol begins to stir, sleepy eyes fluttering open and Baekhyun's never seen anything as ugly ever in his life. The Chanyeol with irresistibly large eyes and pink lips was now incredibly ugly, and Baekhyun almost whimpers when he gets wrapped into his disgustingly long arms, the other's breathing sounding like a cacophony against his ears.

"You're going to kill me one day." Baekhyun says weakly, and a little too literally. He almost jumps when Chanyeol chuckles because it sounds so fucking diabolical that it sends shivers up and down his spine.

"Why would I? You're thinking too much." Chanyeol hums into Baekhyun's floppy hair, reaching around Baekhyun's jaw to pull him in for a kiss, their mouths tasting like a rubbish dump from the night. Baekhyun feels sick.

He's realised that with the shirt replaced there was no way he could prove that Chanyeol was the serial killer, and with no DNA retrieved from the crime scene he couldn't be able to prove it that way too. He feels like crying, and he curls up into Chanyeol's long arms. Chanyeol doesn't say a word, instead opting for an airy laugh as he pulls him in.




"Now that is just fucking brutal." Jongdae mutters in revolt as they stare at the mutilated body. Well, what was left of the body. The sixth body. The fifteen year old boy was asphyxiated and his limbs were hacked off, so that what's left of it looked like Anakin Skywalker just before he was made into Darth Vader. Baekhyun nods in agreement. Jongdae's turning a sickly green, his breakfast travelling up his gullet in an incredible speed as he bolts for the closest rubbish bin to clear his throat.

Baekhyun stares at the corpse with a sick fascination, and a disgusting thrill runs through his body as he register the idea that it was Chanyeol's work, that his baby faced boyfriend had been the one hacking at the boy and choking the poor soul to death. He's frustrated and repulsed at the situation. It's been a week since he's found out how Chanyeol spends his 'leisure time', and it's been the first murder that had happened since then.

According to procedures he could easily slip handcuffs around those bony wrists and drag the tall pole to the police station, but without enough evidence the suspect would have to be released within 48 hours. And Baekhyun loathes himself when he melts into the repulsive hugs Chanyeol offers him when he returns from work, his eyes focusing on Chanyeol's neck more often than not as he comes up with a million ways to make it black and blue, or even better, crimson red. It's awful how they act like nothing has really happened, and Baekhyun wants to burst into tears and land a fist at Chanyeol's face everytime the younger smiles because part of him still isn't able to digest the fact that Park Chanyeol was capable of such cruelty.


He's such a coward. He thinks of quitting his job and apologizing to the public for his incompetence, and then telling the police force about Chanyeol so that they could get him themselves and he wouldn't have to be held responsible at it, but his heavy sense of obligation and duty stops him from doing so. It's a torturous cycle, going to work everyday to watch Jongdae pour his heart out researching for clues when the murderer cooks him dinner and sleeps in his bed at night. It's frightening how magnetic Chanyeol could be and how drawn towards him Baekhyun was, when they've only been together for a bit over a month. He considers calling it off with Chanyeol, and yet a voice tells him that Chanyeol is someone he loves (when really he's scared of having his throat snapped by the monster) and that he could always try to get more evidence and shouldn't leave him.

He and Jongdae finishes up the paperwork on the poor boy and leaves the morgue hastily (before Jongdae feels like puking what's left of his stomach up), and he gives the younger a pat on the back for encouragement as Jongdae trudges sickly back to his car and drives off. Baekhyun gets into his own car, frowning and burying his head in his hands as he contemplates between going home to eat dinner with Chanyeol and then hopefully fucking his brains out, or to go home and shoot Chanyeol in the face.


It's an easy choice, really.




Baekhyun's halfway through ripping Chanyeol, grunting as he pushes himself in harshly, the whimpers and groans of the taller becoming undone underneath him giving him waves of dull satisfaction. He leans down to jam their mouths together, a mess of lip and tongue as he infuses all of his hatred and frustration into the contact and Chanyeol mewls into it almost happily. He shifts his hips roughly and bites Chanyeol on the neck, dangerously close to an artery that could possibly kill the stick monster, and the taller hums, sliding a large hand down Baekhyun's skinny spine as he wraps his milky legs around Baekhyun's waist to take him in deeper.

Baekhyun's drowning in an ecstasy of unhappiness, and Chanyeol's the ocean about to take him under.

"H-how was work tod-day?" Chanyeol manages to breath out as he moves in sync with Baekhyun's thrusts, blood starting to seep out of his neck and mixing with his sweat. Baekhyun flinches at the question.

"You would know, wouldn't you?"

It's a topic they both dance around yet are clearly informed of, but Chanyeol knows it riles Baekhyun up to the point of insanity so he brings it up, and Baekhyun lets him because bringing it up almost makes him feel better and easier for him to hate Chanyeol enough to shackle him up.

"I-urghhh" the journalist groans in pleasure as Baekhyun hits the spot which makes his blood boil and gut flip "bet it was all over the place."

He even has the decency to laugh at his own comment and that's when Baekhyun punches him across his soft round jaw and Chanyeol squeezes his walls to make Baekhyun gasp, then quickly reaches up to coil his fingers around Baekhyun's pale neck. He's clenching so hard that the thrusting has stopped and Baekhyun's turning a pretty rose pink, his cheeks flooding with heat as his hands grapple around his neck and his eyes glaring at Chanyeol with disgust.

Chanyeol grins, and Baekhyun thinks it's absolutely hideous.

His breath is almost completely hitched, and the officer in Baekhyun is telling him to do something because he's about to get strangled by his own boyfriend who was supposedly also a serial killer. But he's almost leaning into the rough grip, closing his eyes and part of him wants to die right here, so he'd had nothing to do with taking Chanyeol to jail. This is what they must've felt, he thinks, thoughts running back to the victims' bodies and how frigid and cold they were. A happy, masochistic voice spills into his ears, telling him that he's now experiencing another side of Chanyeol, and for a split second he's enjoying being pushed to the brink of death.

Baekhyun feels almost accustomed to the force around his throat, a little gasp escaping his lips as Chanyeol flips them around so he's straddling Baekhyun, who was still hard and inside of him.

"I h-hate you."

Baekhyun manages to say between gritted teeth when Chanyeol finally loosens his grip and starts bringing himself up and down on Baekhyun, grinning widely. His teeth were a grey, dusty white that reminded Baekhyun of rotten bones and old skulls, and Baekhyun fights back a sob as he reaches his hands forward to grip tightly onto Chanyeol's bony hips, tracing his hands along the other's toned stomach and scraping his nails loathingly across the younger's unblemished back.

He feels as good as stabbed when Chanyeol mutters an 'I love you' that was so sickeningly lovely and a tear escapes his dark eyes as he escapes into sleep.





For the first time in Baekhyun's life, he wants to kill someone. He knows he has to end this dysfunctional, inhumane tendency Chanyeol was leaning towards and he knows that as an officer he is obligated and morally inclined to bring any criminal to justice.

It's strange how going to work feels like a sanctuary as he and Jongdae repeatedly looks over gruesome pictures of mutilated bodies and detached limbs and poking through pieces of evidence they had carried away from the crime scene. He's rummaging through piles of clothing collected from the teenage boy's room to get to the victim's mobile, the plastic covered fabric crinkling in his silicon covered fingers as he notices a button missing from the top of the small shirt. His mind darts back to how Chanyeol fiddled with the buttons on the replaced button up shirt, a hint of nervousness on the other's face as Baekhyun complied, partly in fear.

Quickly, he flips through all the photos and packets of clothing from the suspect, realising that the topmost button of the shirt that identified them was missing, the threads pulled out roughly. Jongdae tries collecting skin samples from the little surface area of the string, though failing on every piece of clothing including the one from the little girl who was suffocated underwater and the man who was left in the trunk of a shiny red car.

Baekhyun rapidly skims his eyes over the clothing all the victims died in (the teenage boy's clothes were a wreck) and he doesn't know whether to punch the air in joy or to curl up in a corner to spill tears over his lids. He's found a ground breaking pattern that was definitely a major lead- Chanyeol must've kept those buttons from the victims, and if he found them, everything would be over. He'd get the promotion he'd always wanted, get the badges of honour and bravery and he'll make his parents see him successful. And he'd also loose Chanyeol.





He's attacked the moment he steps into the dark apartment. A familiar hand reaches around his waist and smacks his back loudly against the wall, and Baekhyun grunts lightly as his head collides with the plaster. Chanyeol's tracing kisses down his cheek and then licking a stripe along his dry lips for access, which Baekhyun allows when a knee slips between his body and he groans at the contact. The taller is doing all this while keeping Baekhyun prisoned against the wall, which was ironic to say the least.

He's being handcuffed by a criminal. With his own pair of authorized handcuffs.

Baekhyun's never imagined anything sexier in his life.

A rough hand sneaks around the back of his neck and he tingles all the way to his toes as he gets hauled in for a sticky kiss tasting of chocolate, bucking against Chanyeol as much as he can from the position he was in, his trapped hands knocking the wall with loud metallic clangs. He tries to muffle what sounded like a moan of pleasure when he gets yanked down to the floor by his chin and Chanyeol straddles him in the dark, the other's hips heavy against his and Baekhyun simply pants as they break apart in need for oxygen.
He's sighing when Chanyeol skilfully unbuckles his belt and he briefly hears the sound of his gun being tossed under the sofa, the screeching sound of it swivelling across the floor covered when the other rolls his hips and they both groan into each other's mouths. Baekhyun's surprisingly okay with his gun being tossed under the sofa. And more than okay with fucking around with a serial killer in a dark room wearing his own handcuffs.

He's ripping off Chanyeol's jeans, fingers almost stabbing into the other's hips as he finds a grip to yank them off completely, and that's when Chanyeol fucking growls into his ears and Baekhyun's impossibly hard in his pants. He jabs a finger into Chanyeol unforgivingly just as the other reaches under his jeans and into his underwear and squeezes him, a desperate moan dribbling out of him because Chanyeol's hand was hot and tight and large and was now pumping him almost frantically. Chanyeol's pushing back so demandingly onto his finger that it almost breaks, and Baekhyun stabs in two more in retort and low, pleased groans tumble from the other. Without warning Chanyeol's crashing into him and pulling Baekhyun into his delicious heat, sucking him in dry and enjoying every moment of Baekhyun burning him and tearing him apart. Baekhyun's groaning helplessly at the intense pleasure as the other sits himself entirely onto Baekhyun and builds up a quick desperate rhythm, breathing against his mouth and pulling him in for a feverish kiss.

And that's when Chanyeol reaches up with his impossibly long limbs to turn on the fucking lights, a monstrous smile curling up on his lips as he kneels back down and takes Baekhyun into him again.

He's wearing the blue cotton shirt.

Baekhyun's stiff with shock, moving almost mechanically as he pulls Chanyeol down onto him and thrusting back up to impale the other. His mouth is wide open, unmoving when Chanyeol slips his tongue in and starts doing devilish things that he involuntarily moans at, drool dribbling out from the corner of his mouth as Chanyeol licks it dirtily into his. He feels a white heat blazing under his stomach and he knows he's about to come, and Chanyeol's rapidly taking off the shirt and smashing himself tightly against Baekhyun, snaking his arms around Baekhyun's neck and kissing him until he's out of breath and feels like dying.





He's staring at the ceiling impassively after waking up at noon, the bed empty and cold. His fists are gripped so tight that his fingernails could almost go through his hand as he goes through the tiresome self-loathing process again, hammering himself mentally for submitting once again to Chanyeol's stupid charms and even falling asleep with him afterwards. A ton of should'ves and could'ves run in and out of his head like an irritating whisper before his obnoxious ringtone of Chanyeol laughing breaks it.

"B-Baekhyun!! I did it! We've found the killer!!!!" Jongdae's gleeful cheer from the phone sends him sitting straight up in the bed, fisting the sheets anxiously.

"It's a guy called Park Chanyeol. He came to confess this morning and told of how he managed to commit the crimes and admitting to being behind all of them. Chan-wait, this isn't your boyfriend is it Baekhyun? Baek-"

He slams his phone onto the floor, clinging onto the sheets for comfort as a shower of relief, regret and guilt washes over him. What the fuck was Chanyeol doing?

When he asks himself that question Baekhyun realises what side he's been on all along, and he hates himself for not being on the one called justice.




Baekhyun scrambles up the steps to the station, bolting for the interrogating rooms immediately, sweat beading onto his forehead in panic. Chanyeolchanyeolchanyeolchanyeol repeats in his mind like a mantra as he twists open the door knob and sees Chanyeol sitting on the other side of the one-way glass, poised and looking completely at home, a small pile of buttons piled up infront of him. Baekhyun feels a shiver as he remembers how those buttons were obtained. He bows quickly to the other officers as he watches Jongdae question his boyfriend about his nightly habits.

"Why these victims? There seems to be no chain to who you chose to kill."

"That's because there is no chain. I kill whoever I want to." Chanyeol says with a disdainful smile, glancing at the glass as he plays with the cup of water he's given. Baekhyun's close to crying.

"What made you confess yourself to the crimes?"

"You guys."

The officers in the room raise their eyebrows questioningly as Jongdae snorts, scratching his pencil across paper.

"We took a long while, didn't we?" he says with a smile used when one is looking at a dog chasing its own tail. "So it's your despairingly sick psychological need of wanting to get caught that's led you here?"

Chanyeol laughs as if he was talking to an old friend, nodding across the steel table as he switches to placing his other leg on his knee.

"And here- it says that you're romantically involved with Officer Byun Baekhyun, who is currently head of the investigation team?"

A gasp erupts through the police, who then eyes Baekhyun despisingly as they shake their heads and mumble between each other. Baekhyun doesn't even have to listen to know that they were planning his downfall.

"I am, but Baekhyun doesn't know anything about what I do. He doesn't know that I've been using him for information, and using him as the perfect coverup."

Baekhyun heaves a sigh as the little crowd police eyes him with frugal pity. Surprisingly he doesn't feel pain to what Chanyeol had said, instead an icy numbness surrounds his heart as he continues to watch. A part of him want to think that it's Chanyeol's way of protecting him, that Chanyeol's saying that because he loves him.



Chanyeol's sentenced to a lifetime in prison. Baekhyun feels like he's the one stuck behind bars instead as he watches the brunette being led into the cell, eyes empty of emotion as the metal clanks and closes. He finishes the press conference to the public, saying that they've caught the serial killer, and he's being clustered with badges and awards and interviews that he would've gladly accepted if it wasn't Chanyeol. He quits his job despite Jongdae begging him not to go, but he tells the other that he'll never deduce quite as well as him, and that he would do much better in his position. Jongdae hides a small smile as he helps Baekhyun organize his papers for a move to China, where Jongdae has a couple of friends who had opened a Korean institution and would love for him to go over to teach. Baekhyun thinks it's a good opportunity to forget everything.

It's a year since he's started working in China and he's almost fluent in the language, with the help of Luhan and Yixing. The institute's slowly gaining recognition in the Chinese public and it's only growing bigger, with students of different age groups entering to learn Korean and about Korean culture (which Baekhyun sometimes happily sings to them). For a while, Chanyeol doesn't really cross his mind at all and it hurts for him to realise that he's actually forgetting him.
But life in China's a lot more slowly paced and he likes how he doesn't understand everything at a bare glance, how he needs to take time to read signs or menus, to make an effort to start anew. He's found sanctuary in music, singing along to Yixing's guitar during lesson breaks as Luhan harmonizes with him, and sometimes they'll have a fun night at Luhan's apartment when Minseok and Kris (the boyfriends. Duh.) joins in for a Korean movie marathon. Lately the institute is flooding with new prospective students applying for a place (he figures it must be due to the hallyu wave sweeping across Asia) and Baekhyun's trying hard to construct a suitable schedule so that all the students would get a learning opportunity. He's working late into the night at the school, shuffling through papers of new students when his door creaks and a tall hooded figure strides in, takeaway in hand.


"Even without looking at you I already know you'd skip dinner."

A deep voice resonates in front of him, and Baekhyun's heart jumps.