
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/960510.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      EXO_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Kris/Kai
  Character:
      Wu_Yi_Fan_|_Kris, Kim_Jongin_|_Kai
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-09 Words: 1528
****** Marked in Scarlet ******
by Rei_Rei_(anti60ne)
Summary
     In Kris's first and last encounter with Kai, there is penetration of
     all kinds. ((i'm sorry i suck at summaries okay Pearl will have to
     fix this))
pairing: Kris/Kai
prompt: host club
genre: suspense, tragedy
rating: NC-17
title: Marked in Scarlet
warning: gore, character death
word count: 1449
summary: In Kris's first and last encounter with Kai, there is penetration of
all kinds. ((i'm sorry i suck at summaries okay Pearl will have to fix this))
A/N: Laura beta-ed this and that is the sole reason why i'm posting OTL

Junmyeon crouches down to pass through the yellow tape that screams large block
letters of "Crime Scene, Do Not Cross", murmurs from bystanders droning behind
him. It's his day off (he has requested some personal days preluding the
holidays), but he dragged himself out of bed upon an emergency call from the
station. The Reaper has struck again, based on the style and pattern of kill
reported to him by Jongdae, his associate. It's the 3rd incident. Three times
is the charm, they say. Junmyeon feels his muscles twitch in heightened
anticipation and dread. Hopefully the Reaper has slipped some clues this time
round.
The detective cracks his neck as he strolls across the manicured lawn, the
meandering path that points to the doorstep obstructed by police equipment and
personnel. Junmyeon takes an elevated stride up the steps and enters an
apparently pricey condo with a decor that betrays the seemingly bland exterior.
Whatever the victim did for a living, he was sure being paid handsome amounts
for it. Ivory velour stretches from the doorstep into the expanse of a
pristinely kept living room, the right to which is a vast hallway that Junmyeon
presumes leads to the bedrooms. He peers through the unlit hallway and, against
the spread of sunlight freely seeping through the windows, spots familiar faces
from the forensic team. Junmyeon walks toward the crime scene while extracting
his notebook from the breast pocket.
"Run down the stats for me."
"Asian, early 20s, estimated 185 cm and 60 kg, judging from the figure, or the
remains of it," Minseok, the forensic medic, reports absentmindedly as he drops
a chunky ring into an evidence bag. Junmyeon glances at the ring for a trace of
enlightenment, but his hope dies quickly as he makes out a skull on the blood-
stained silver piece. It's uncharacteristic of the Reaper to wear accessories,
and judging from the framed photos he passed by in the hallway, the ring
belongs to the victim. Junmyeon surveys the spacious bedroom, from the unmade
canary-velvet bedspread, down to the lush carpet blemished by blotches of
shocking red, then upward and around the off-white walls, spotless save for
blood spatters dancing around a constructed pattern of crimson sprays,
something that has been etched on the detective's mind.
 
  ! ! ! ! !
 
Junmyeon squats beside the body and peels the white tarp off. His inquisitive
eyes bore into a sculpted face, lifeless, almost translucent. The guy is very
good-looking. Possibly a model, though he will have to do a background check to
verify.
"ETD?"
"Between 9PM and midnight. So about 7 hours ago, give or take."
 
 
 
❅
 
 
 
Kris gasps in rapid, shallow breaths. He strains to think, to remember what
happened, and a name blurs into form in his head. He crawls with agonizing
difficulty toward the bedside table, on which his cell phone lies. He raises a
trembling hand forth when a heavy object collides with the lower back of his
head. He knocks out cold, unceremoniously slumping on the bed.
"I told you to stay still."
He works with military efficiency, hauling the body, stark naked, off the bed
and down to the floor. He strategically positions the body in some angle pre-
calculated in his head, supine and limbs spread apart as if in the form of a
snowflake. He straightens, arms crossing his chest as he examines his work,
shapely lips curving into a satisfied smile. He moves to the opposite end so
that he faces the feet of his victim, his limp cock dangling at the head in
cruel mockery. He crouches and looks down, a surgical knife poised in his
gloved right hand.
"Merry Christmas," he whispers as he slashes across the throat in one swift
stroke. Kris's eyes shot open, jolted from unconsciousness and gurgles as his
carotid artery spurts violently, forming a red fountain above his chest. He
writhes and gasps and tries to speak, to scream, but no sounds come out when
blood quickly drains from him.
He pulls the knife inward against his palm and raises it over Kris's chest,
poised above the sternum. Then he drives it down without blinking.
"... and a Happy New Year."
 
 
 
❅
 
 
The room is silent discounting the frictional slaps of flesh against flesh,
animalistic grunts, and moans so obscene that they rival fabricated sounds of
pornography.
Ironically, it is a show, an exhibit primed for some larger purpose. Except
Kris doesn't know it. Not yet.
He propels ruthlessly into the man, who introduced himself as Kai, his vision
blurring in and out of focus as Kai's nails peg into his shoulders. Kris hisses
and encloses Kai's neck with his large hand, the Adam's apple pulsing beneath
his palm. Kai's face reddens, eyes clouded with carnality as he endures,
i>permits, Kris to crush him, impelling him against the wall.
"Is this rough enough for you? You little cockslut," Kris breathes down Kai's
neck as his hand releases, running a tongue over the protruding veins, a
shameless invitation beckoning his lips. Kris pulls out and strokes himself,
slowly, teasing a panting Kai as he brushes the tip of his cock over Kai's
hole. Kai whimpers, breaths hitched in the back of his throat, down which Kris
has shoved his cock earlier, and for a brief moment, Kai can't decide if he
wants it back into his mouth or up his ass.
"No," Kai sits up and murmurs into Kris's ears, twirling his tongue expertly
around the earlobe. Kris groans and grabs Kai by the neck, sinking his teeth
down into the tan, supple flesh.
"Fuck me harder than anyone you've ever fucked before."
Kris pushes Kai back down and hoists his hips off the bed before thrusting
forward in one clean motion, deep and hard and unrelenting. Kai cries as his
pelvis bucks upward, fingers clenching a handful of sheets. His eyes roll
upward and mouth goes dry as pleasure seizes him from the inside, and he clamps
down around Kris's cock that pulsates dangerously. It's time.
Kai hooks his ankles behind Kris's back and with a force that comes out of
nowhere, flips them around. Kris widens his eyes in surprise as his back hits
the soft bedspread, but quickly gives way for a snicker as Kai perches on
Kris's hips and sinks down, and his cock fills Kai again, even deeper this
time.
"Alright, I'll let you ride, for now."
Kai doesn't say anything. He narrows his eyes and offers what Kris thinks is a
coy smile before beginning to rock forward, backward, and then around in a
painstakingly slow, circling motion, drawing unadulterated groans from Kris,
whose eyes fall shut in contentment.
In a split second, Kai's eyes zoom into sharp focus as he gazes at Kris with
piercing eyes, watchful, as if stalking a prey. With Kris's eyes still closed,
Kai exploits a forward movement and reaches over toward the front of the bed.
He noiselessly brandishes a syringe that has been stashed in the gap. Kai leans
down and drops his forearms, caging Kris's head. Kris feels the hot breaths
above his cheeks and his hazed eyes flutter open, looking into a lethal
darkness that wasn't there before.
Kris comes with a muffled grunt as Kai plunges the syringe into his neck.
"Sorry, but you called for me and my hands were starting to itch," Kai explains
monotonously, his words unheard as Kris's eyes quiver to a close.
 
 
 
❅
 
 
 
"Good evening, this is EXO Club, how may I help you?" A perky voice travels
into Kris's ear after two rings.
"I'd like to make an appointment for tomorrow night, if possible."
Kris has his share of doubts regarding host clubs. He doesn't like fucking
around for fear of contracting STDs, and the notion of paying for sex, though
he can easily afford it, doesn't bear positive prospects for him. But in light
of his recent breakup with Tao, presumably over his "abnormal" penchant for
rough sex and excessive manhandling, Kris finally gave it some serious thought
and taken up on the suggestion of Chanyeol, who has high praises for EXO Club.
"Sure, do you have anyone in mind?"
Kris searches his memory. Chanyeol has recommended some "willing cocksucker
with a hole tighter than a virgin's pussy". Kai, that was the name.
"Uh, is Kai available?"
"Let's see... He has an open slot for 9PM, would that work for you?"
"Yes, that's perfect."
"Awesome!" The operator chimes cheerily. "Please provide your contact
information and wire the payment within the next six hours via the form on our
website, and please expect Kai to arrive promptly at 9PM, tomorrow."
"Will do. Thanks."
"You're very welcome. Have a good night, sir."
 
 
❅

A/N: the Reaper's signature originates from this: "Five exclamation marks, the
sure sign of an insane mind." -- Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man
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