Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chan was really attractive. But he wasn’t the drop-dead Hollywood-star kind of attractive. He was the kind of attractive that got someone to look back after passing by on a busy street. He was the kind of attractive that was charming and eye catching without that feeling of being unapproachable. Chan was out of this world while still being apart of it. 

Minho really liked Chan. Chan was this interesting anomaly that had caught Minho’s attention while working his boring office job. Chan was just supposed to be an intern—who would have known he’d become permanent? 

He remembered the first time he saw Chan. Minho was at the copy machine, per usual, struggling to produce copies for the asshole he worked under. He remembered catching the black curls in the corner of his eyes. They weren’t enough to really make him notice much—but those dimples? He had to do a double take. And double takes were dangerous. 

Minho fell in love. A type of love. Chan was so interestingly beautiful and all because of those dimples. Minho would never be able to just pass him casually after noticing those cute marks on his face when he smiled. 

Things were normal at first, Minho would do tiny things to try and get Chan’s attention. He’d drop his paperwork and bend over to pick up pens, but  Chan wasn’t all that interested. Strangely enough, Chan really didn’t pay him much mind. Which was odd. Because everyone else paid attention to Minho. 

Maybe that’s what drew Minho to him beyond the dimples—Chan wasn’t interested in Minho. Call it arrogance, but Chan should have been honored to have Minho crushing on him. Minho could have anyone he wanted, yet he was set on those cute dimples and curls. 

Bang Chan. He was a mystery. He kept to himself and left work late. Minho would never catch him properly, but according to a coworker, he stayed till closing every night. And then he’d walk home, like a maniac. Who walked home after midnight in this particular town? Chan didn’t make any sense. He was careless, too. Chan would forget everything and Minho had no idea why he’d been in this position for so long. It was beyond him. 

But somehow Minho had finally managed to grab his attention. If Chan seemed weird before, his interest in this particular subject made him the king of the obscure. 

Aliens . 

“Yeah, sometimes I think they’re just walking around in disguise.” 

Minho wasn’t talking to Chan. He was joking with another coworker, calling them mindless sheep and practically just controlled by tiny aliens who gave every command. 

But somehow, aliens had caught chan's ear. 

“Honestly, they probably are.” Minho’s eyes lit up as Chan stepped into their conversation, weak half smile popping that dumb dimple that sat on his face. 

That’s how it started. 

Chan . 

Minho enjoyed his company, enjoyed the corny jokes and especially liked how Chan seemed to actually take some sort of interest in Minho. Even if that interest was about tiny green men that experimented on people for fun. 

👽

“You should come by sometime, it’s so cool.” Chan told him. 

It had been two months since they’d started talking. Granted a majority of the time was spent talking about aliens—but Minho didn’t mind. At least Chan was talking to him. 

And he seemed invested. And excitable. 

“I don’t know,” Minho had his chin in his palm, watching Chan fondly at the break room table, “an alien club?”

“It’s just a couple of guys who are interested in the beyond.”

Sure it was. 

Minho nodded, pretending he actually cared about what Chan was really talking about. He felt bad for not showing much interest but... Chan was interested, and maybe that was enough for him. 

Chan had told Minho a little about the club. They just kind of met up at some building and did research. Basic shit that Minho thought was boring. But Chan did seem awfully interested in mentioning a particular member over and over by name. 

Jisung . 

“Your friend, Jisung? What’s he like?” Minho interjected as Chan sipped his latte. 

Minho had learned more than expected about this Jisung kid. He was younger than them, a senior in university who was studying neuroscience. He was a really smart kid apparently—and even worse, Chan seemed infatuated. 

Chan had told Minho more about Jisung than he had himself. Minho knew that Jisung had fixed a crooked tooth last year, and that he played guitar—of all things, guitar, and was an honorary member of some alien experimentation organization that Minho figured must’ve been fake. 

Minho didn’t really like Jisung, just from Chan’s obsessive interest. He wanted Chan’s attention. It was selfish, and arrogant—but he deserved the attention, not that Jisung kid. 

And within a few days that attention seemed harder and harder to grasp. Because Chan had insisted Minho meet Jisung.  

“Jisung is gonna be here soon, are you excited?” Chan held such a happy smile, dimples on display and eyes creased. 

Chan had taken Minho to a cafe. Minho figured to finally talk outside of work, but the second Minho sat down, Chan was hyping up Jisung.

“Yeah I guess…” Minho didn’t want to seem so stuck-in-the mud, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to meet this genius who had taken up Chan's attention. Especially not at some cafe. He just wanted to talk to Chan. Together. Seriously and outside of work. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Chan asked, slight worry as he crossed his brows. 

“I’m okay, just—“

“Hey Chan!” 

He was awfully cute. Minho could see the appeal in Jisung. He held this demeanor that was enticing. Even Minho was slightly intrigued as the man settled himself in the booth beside Chan, giving Minho a pleasant smile that filled both of his cheeks.

“Oh! Hello?” Jisung sounded confused, questioning why Minho was there. Figures . Of course Chan never mentioned Minho to Jisung. Jisung probably had no idea that Minho existed. 

“This is my acquaintance from work, Minho.” Chan introduced, and the word acquaintance stung. It felt so informal—which they were, but it still hurt. 

“Nice to meet you,” the dark-haired man clicked his tongue, eyes almost half lidded as he looked Minho up and down so slowly that Minho felt like he was scanning through Minho’s clothes. 

Minho nodded in reply, lips refusing to part as the man watched him closely. 

“Do you think he’d like our club?” Jisung asked suddenly, eyes finally pulling from Minho, resting his head in his palm as he watched Chan instead, less intensity in his eyes. 

Chan gave Jisung a look that broke Minho’s heart. It’s the look he’s longed for, the gaze that he only saw in his wildest dreams. And Chan was giving it to Jisung instead. 

“I think so.”

Minho felt numb, brain screaming at him to leave while he could—

But there was a glimmer of hope as Chan reached across the table, hand outstretched for Minho to take hold, a bright smile at his face to reveal those deep dimples, “Minho, would you like to see what the club is really about?”

Jisung was eyeing him closely. Like he knew—

But Minho couldn’t say no. This was his chance to be with Chan. In any way he could, it was his chance. His one opportunity. Chan would be his, right? 

Minho took Chan’s hand, looking at their hands before lacing their fingers absentmindedly. He wanted to smile but as soon as his gaze met Chan’s he faltered.

Chan wasn’t even looking at him, not really anyways. 

👽

“You seem off.”

Minho was off, it had been three days since Minho agreed to participate in Chan’s weird alien club. 

“I’m fine,” he lied, eyes wandering elsewhere before Chan’s fingers clutched his wrist, causing Minho to drop the stack of papers he had just run through the copy machine, “seriously, it’s nothing.” 

“You’ve been avoiding me since you met Jisung. Did you not like him?” Chan asked, tilting his head, his brown curls brushing across his eyes. It  caused Minho’s heart to skip a beat, “he thought you were lovely.”

Minho took a moment to respond, skin crawling with goosebumps as Chan’s thumb rolled across Minho’s knuckle, “he’s nice. It’s nothing like that—“

“Are you jealous ?”

Minho’s eyes shot up to Chan’s, big and wide, “what?”

“You like me don’t you?”

He was mortified. Absolutely distraught with Chan’s choice of words, and based on the way Chan released Minho’s wrist, his terror must have been obvious. 

“You have nothing to be worried about.”

Minho found himself pressed against the copy machine, body trembling slightly as Chan ran his hand up Minho’s side cautiously, “I’m serious, Minho, there’s nothing going on between me and him.” 

Minho was shocked. 

“What if I—you know I’ve only been avoiding you because you’re just... I thought you were out of my league.” What?? Minho thought Chan had been ignoring him because he wasn’t interested. “You’re just so beautiful and I’m not reading wrong, am I?” Chan asked, eyes seeming to fall to Minho’s exposed collar that peaked from his loosely buttoned white shirt, “Minho?”

“I figured you had no interest.”

Minho felt slight discomfort as Chan pressed against him, “I didn’t think you were actually interested.I figured that if I ever approached you it would all be a prank and I’d look... you know.”

“No, that’s not true,” Minho let out a soft gasp as Chan pressed himself harder against him, trapping him against the copy machine as Chan’s fingers tugged Minho’s tucked shirt from his pants, sliding underneath the cloth to grip against Minho’s hip. 

What the fuck was happening here?! 

“Tell me if I need to stop,” Chan peered behind his shoulder before closing the door to the break room, pulling the rest of Minho’s shirt out from his pants, one hand sliding up to touch his hip while the other lingered to Minho’s belt. 

“What if someone sees us?”

Chan smirked. Clearly he didn’t seem to care about that. Especially not with how he was plucking at Minho’s belt, “I’ll be quick.”

What ?!

“What do you mean?” Minho asked hesitantly as Chan’s eyes scanned his own. 

“Are you nervous? Should I stop?” Chan pulled his hands off of Minho fast, holding them up defensively, “tell me if I’m overstepping—“

Shit . 

“No just…” Minho glanced around, eyeing the camera in the corner, “not here. Whatever it is you’re planning—”

Minho was being oddly compliant with Chan. He wasn’t sure what exactly Chan's intentions were, but at the same time he didn’t care. Chan was... interested in him. 

“The camera?” Chan looked over his shoulder, returning to give Minho another smirk, “Hyunjin owes me one.” Chan took his sweater off from over his own button up, slinging it over the camera with a satisfied huff. 

Minho looked at Chan wordlessly, too love struck to even care about repercussions right now. 

“Minho, can I kiss you?” Chan asked suddenly, returning to press Minho back against the copy machine, hands running up Minho’s hips, tugging the buttoned shirt up for cool air to smack Minho’s skin. 

“Jesus, yeah,” Minho started, sliding his hand up carefully to Chan’s jaw, watching the shorter man with anticipation. 

His lips were soft. Of course they were. Chan had a nice set of lips, great for kissing. Minho knew that. 

Minho released brief moans as Chan rolled his hips against Minho’s, cock hardening in his pants. Shit, he never expected this with Chan. He never expected anything with Chan. 

Minho felt himself being lifted, the copy machine under his ass as Chan tore open the front of Minho’s pants, teeth tugging at Minho’s bottom lip experimentally as his free hand ran along Minho’s stomach. 

“Jesus, Chan!”

“Can I suck you off?” 

Minho’s face was hot, “you want to give me a blowjob at the office?”

“Yeah, can I?” Chan whispered, crawling down Minho’s body to run his mouth along Minho’s underwear. 

Minho took a deep breath, clutching the machine with his hands, “yeah, holy shit.”

Chan’s laugh was awfully cute. But the cuteness quickly altered as Minho felt Chan’s teeth sunk  into the cloth around his cock, causing him to jolt and release a soft moan that he attempted to cover with the palm of his hand. 

“Chan!” Minho threw his head back as the older man took tiny nibbles from Minho’s cock before cool air hit him, Chan pulling his waistband down. 

“It’s so red,” Chan teased before ghosting his lips across his sensitive tip, bringing a hand up to wrap around Minho’s length, “and leaky.” 

Minho shifted on the machine as Chan’s fingers pressed into his length, eyes glued to how Chan’s thumb ran across the little vein that protruded from his cock. 

Chan was so hot. 

“You taste so good…” Chan whispered, licking a stripe up Minho’s shaft before pillowy lips rest around the head of Minho’s cock, sucking innocently as he gave Minho this puppy dog look. 

Jesus Christ. 

Minho brought a hand hesitantly to Chan’s hair, the feeling of soft curls threading through his fingers as his other hand gripped the copy machine tight. 

“C—Chan!” Minho jolted again, body trembling as Chan took Minho’s cock into his mouth, instant feeling of Chan’s warmth and throat putting Minho into a sweat. 

Chan hummed in reply, causing Minho to release pleased moans. 

It had been a long time since someone gave him a blow job. With the added risk of being caught in his workplace, his senses had never been more heightened . 

Chan bobbed his head expertly, cheeks hollowing out at times as his hand rummaged around from Minho’s cock to clasp his sack. 

Minho was in heaven. The person he liked was paying him attention. Finally . Fucking finally. 

“You’re so tasty…” Chan whispered, running his hand up Minho’s thigh, giving firm squeezes. 

Minho shuddered, “Chan I’m gonna cum. I can’t last it’s been too long—” he felt a little embarrassed saying that, but it was true. And he didn’t think Chan would appreciate a mouth full of cum in the middle of the day at work. 

Chan gave him a look before teeth sunk into his cock again, causing Minho to smack the wall behind a little too loud, fingers tugging in Chan’s curls, “Chan!” Chan pulled off with a pop, replacing his mouth with both hands. Chan’s hands were awfully smaller than he expected. 

Minho blinked away tears of pleasure as he focused on Chan, the elder pressing a finger against his slit as he moved both hands along Minho’s length, only causing all those tears to gather again. 

“Chan!” Minho was louder than he wanted, biting into his palm as his mouth produced unholy sounds, hips bucking and body overwhelming with Chan’s technique. 

“Cum for me, Min.” Chan smirked, continuing the pleasing movement with his hands before halting with a laugh as Minho let out a screech into his palm. 

He came into Chan’s hands on command , shuddering at the sensation. 

Chan held one hand over the sensitive swollen head of his cock, free hand reaching around Minho to the box of tissues that settled on the next to the copy machine, quickly replacing his hands with stacks of four or five tissues, “don’t want anyone to see,” he teased. 

Minho let out a laugh, bringing his hands up to wipe the tears from his eyes as Chan dabbed at his cock quietly. 

“That was fun, Minho.” 

Minho let his hands fall, Chan slinking up between his legs to ghost his lips along Minho’s, “I kinda want to do that again sometime.”

“Do you want me to return the favor, Chan?” Minho whispered, loving the attention Chan was giving him. 

“No, not here.” Chan brought a hand to Minho’s cheek, lips parting against Minho’s bottom lip before dragging away to press kisses to his cheek, “I want to take you home. I want you inside of me.”

Minho was surprised to hear that part, he figured Chan wanted complete control to the point he’d fuck Minho into the wall, but that wasn’t the case. 

“I would love to fuck you, Chan.” Minho whispered back, tucking his cock back into his pants as he adjusted himself. 

“After the meeting tomorrow I want you to take me to your house,” Chan’s lips ran across Minho’s perfectly, tongues rolling together as Chan’s hands squeezed Minho’s thighs, “I want you to push me into your bed and fuck me so hard I’m screaming.”

Minho shuddered, pulling Chan close by the collar of his shirt, worrying about hardening up again as his mind raced, “yeah, I can do that. I can.” 

It took the worrying sound of the door clicking for Chan to pull away, Minho quickly adjusting himself at the water stand beside the machine, head spinning as one of their coworkers came in. 

“Can you believe what he said yesterday?” The coworker chimed suddenly. 

Minho took a deep breath, peering over his shoulder to see their coworker holding her salad in hand, striking up conversation with Chan. 

“Yeah, he really doesn’t care about getting fired does he? What kind of person does something like that?!” Chan’s eyes flickered to Minho’s, a slight smirk at his lips before he turned back to continue his conversation. 

Minho stifled a laugh, getting a small cup of water from the jug and bringing it to his lips. He figured that was his cue to disappear. So he did, sliding past the two who had struck up gossip. 

After that, the rest of the day had been fairly boring. The times Minho made eye contact with Chan in the office were filled with innuendos. At times whatever fruit Chan was biting into he’d give Minho this provocative look, and in return minho would push his tongue deep against the side of his mouth, causing Chan to scrunch his face in amusement. 

Minho never thought he’d actually land Chan. But thank god he had. 

👽

Minho had the next day off. He usually spent them sleeping the entire day but he had to prepare his messy house for Chan. He had to clean out his fridge firstly.  That was the most important thing. Followed by moving some conversation-starting trinkets to the closet. He just wanted to entice Chan in any way he could. So he needed a clean, proper home. He wanted to look desirable . 

But maybe he could have left some of those things out. Chan may have been interested—no, he’d be too interested. Minho just wanted to fuck him, not have long conversations about the stuff Minho owned. 

So he continued cleaning, making sure everything was tidy and put together. He changed his sheets, Lysol-sprayed the entire house to the point he was coughing, and even scrubbed the shower—just in case Chan wanted to take one. 

Minho had completely forgotten about the meeting while he cleaned, his phone buzzing as he scrubbed the bathroom floor meticulously. 

“Hello?” Minho answered, knowing that Chan was on the other line. 

“What’s your address? I’ll pick you up!” 

Minho blinked, looking at the time, “shit, I totally lost track. What should I wear?” Minho sat up, running the back of his hand across his sweat covered forehead before pulling sticky orange strands of hair from his temple. 

“Wear something comfortable that you don’t mind getting messy! Nothing flashy!” Chan laughed in reply, “I’ll be there in about a half hour. Gives you time to get dressed!”

Minho snickered, telling Chan his address before scrambling off of the floor to rush into the now clean shower. 

He should have waited for after the meeting, but Minho couldn’t help spending the majority of the time in the shower getting off to Chan, voice as loud as he wanted as he came in thick white lines, stream washing the cum down the drain. 

God he couldn’t wait for after the meeting. He couldn’t wait for the meeting . 

Minho dressed himself fast, a casual pair of jeans and a black t-shirt paired with a comfortable fluffy blue coat. He loved this jacket. And he only got to wear in during the winter or outside of work. 

Minho’s phone buzzed as he blow-dryed his hair, Chan sending a string of heart emojis and a simple out front that had Minho smiling from ear to ear. 

It was time. 

“What did I tell you?” Chan laughed as Minho entered the car, cozying up in his coat as he took in the lemongrass scent of Chan’s car. 

“I love this coat!”

“Well don’t wear it at the meeting! We do crafts !”

“I’ll leave it in the car,” Minho snickered before leaning over carefully, doing his best to not rush Chan into kissing him. 

Thankfully Chan smiled wide, fingers lingering across Minho’s jaw as he dove in for the kiss, brief and comfortable. Maybe too brief. 

Chan pulled away with a happy sigh, hands clutching the steering wheel like he’d won some sort of lottery. Good. 

“Let’s get this meeting over with so I can bring you back here,” Minho whispered, running his hand up Chan’s thigh, giving the innermost part a gentle squeeze. 

Chan laughed, “you’re right. I want to take a tour of your house—while you’re fucking me on every inch of it.”

Goddamn. 

Chan liked EDM, Minho concluded. Along with a mix of soft pop, he really liked that noise music that kept a person moving. Minho thought it was interesting, watching Chan tap the steering wheel and bob his head to the music. It was kinda cute too. 

As Minho scrolled through Chan’s playlist on his phone he wasn’t surprised to see the copious amount of alien hits. Of course.  

Aliens. 

“We’re here.” 

They were in an alleyway, Chan parking the car next to a dumpster. 

Spooky . 

“Is this where you kill me, Chan?” Minho teased, Chan scrunching his face cutely before getting out of the car. 

Minho followed, hands in his big coat pockets before Chan stopped him in his tracks, “leave the coat in the car.”

“In a place like this?”

“If you don’t it might get messed up…”

Minho but his lip, “you don’t have a hanger in there?”

Chan inhaled, “we do but stuff gets messy .”

“What exactly do you guys do down there?” Minho asked quizzically. Though he already—

“Crafts... they get really messy. I don’t want anything to get on this coat. It looks really expensive.”

“Ah, killing me and stealing my coat I see!” Minho teased before pulling the jacket off and laying it in the car, Chan locking the vehicle the minute Minho stepped out. 

“Just messy, I don’t want to ruin your things.” Chan brought a hand to Minho’s face before sliding his own jacket off, wrapping it around Minho’s shoulders. 

Minho offered a smile before Chan’s hand met his own, “follow me.”

The building was spooky on its own. Not to mention the fact that Chan was leading him down a fucking cellar. 

“Would me making jokes about you killing me be a bit realistic ?” Minho laughed, Chan giving his hand a squeeze. 

“It’s just a little scary. Adds to the aesthetic!” Chan laughed back, “if you’re uncomfortable…” Chan passed at a rusty door, hands on Minho’s shoulders, “you don’t have to join. You can wait outside while we—“

“Nah, I trust you!” As boring as this meeting was going to be, he trusted Chan. 

But things wouldn’t be boring . 

As Chan opened the door, Minho’s heart raced. There was a chair next to a small table, rusty counters and cabinets decorating the space. 

“Please don’t tell me I made a mistake bringing you here, okay?” Chan was dead serious. 

Minho just shook his head, placing Chan’s coat at one of the rusty hooks. 

“No, I trust you. Whatever this is…”

It was definitely peculiar . And the smell almost made Minho want to vomit. Maybe this was a mistake? No he knew that it wasn’t—

“Hey!” Jisung’s voice was so loud and enthusiastic. And—Minho’s eyes widened at the once white lab coat that was covered in red stains. 

Oh . 

“So, you sure about him?” Jisung asked, seeming to be overly calm. 

“Yeah. I trust him, Jisung.” Chan offered Minho a smile, “he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Tell anyone what?” Minho asked hesitantly, getting an inquisitive look from Jisung. 

“About our club.”

Hadn’t Chan advertised the club at work before?

“Nobody actually ever joins. It’s for show.” Jisung went to the counter, pulling open the rusty cabinet to drag down a set of shiny—oh!

Minho tensed as Jisung sprawled the tools out across the counter, “you told Minho about our crafts right?”

“I may have glossed over what we actually do—“

“Dammit Chan, really?” Jisung hissed. 

“You said it was a good idea! You said he was perfect… ”

Minho felt his stomach drop. 

“Yeah, he seems like he wouldn’t say anything but I don’t know, Chan.” Jisung was very suspicious of Minho. It was clear. But maybe that’s why he wanted Minho here so badly. 

“Minho is cool! He’s really cool, Jisung!” Chan crossed over to Minho, grabbing onto his hand, “and I like him a lot.” Fuck . Minho curled his fingers into Chan’s hesitantly. 

“What do you guys do down here?” Minho finally interjected. 

“Experiment.” Jisung clicked his tongue, “I wish Chan would have properly introduced you, but you’re here now so,” Jisung walked towards the corner, Minho noticing a freezer that he didn’t recall being there before. There were no outlets? So it wasn’t even plugged in?? 

“If you panic, well...” Jisung reached into the freezer, an arm coming into view. 

Jesus Christ. 

Chan held his hand tight, “it’s—it’s not a human, okay.”

Minho’s eyes darted to Chan, “what?”

“It’s an alien!” 

Ah. 

Any normal person would have bolted. But Minho was curious , sickly curious as Jisung dragged the unconscious man into the chair. He wasn’t wearing anything at all, which made things ten times more uncomfortable. 

“If he runs…” Jisung glanced up to Minho as he tied the ropes that settled at the floor around the man's body, “you won’t run, right ?”

“This is—”

“They’re aliens .” Jisung snapped, “I’m trusting you here, Minho. You have a particular look about you that seems trustworthy.” Jisung whispered, “if you tell anyone, everything will be ruined, you understand?”

Minho shouldn’t have come. 

“What do you... what happens down here?”

“How strong is your stomach?”

Minho took a deep breath, glancing at the man, “strong.”

“Good.”

“Minho, you won’t get in trouble, okay?” Wouldn’t he? “Everything will be okay, just follow our lead and it’ll be over soon.” Chan’s words weren’t that comforting. 

Chan’s hand was comforting in the weirdest way. The way he looked at Minho was the same, “okay, Chan.”

Minho didn’t necessarily expect this. 

Who could? 

He stayed calm as Jisung took out a pair of clippers. He stayed calm watching Jisung shave this unconscious man's head. He stayed calm as he watched Jisung take out a scalpel. 

But part of him couldn’t stay calm as Jisung pressed the blade to the man's head, Chan holding the man's head upright. He started to panic, eyes darting and body trembling with the sight of blood.

“Minho.” Jisung clicked his tongue, “was it a mistake bringing you? You realize that now you’re here, there is no turning back?”

Jisung was cruel . 

“Jisung—” Chan left his placeto grab Minho’s chin, angling his face up, “I’m sorry for bringing you into this but Jisung really thinks that you’d mesh well here. I don’t know why but…”

“You’re—“ Minho has to choose his words carefully, “that’s a person, Chan.” Minho could only stay calm and quiet for so long. 

“It’s not…”

“Chan, this is—”

“Do we have to kill him, Chan?” Jisung growled. 

Chan tensed, watching Minho closely, “I don’t want to do that, Jisung.”

Chan really liked him. 

“I’m just, this isn’t okay, Chan…” Minho whispered. 

“Minho.” Chan’s face twisted. 

It happened so fast. So fast that Minho was dazed. Jisung held Minho in his grasp, pushing him hard against the rusted door, scalpel pressed to Minho’s cheek, “Minho, make a choice.”

Minho shivered as Chan stood beside Jisung, “Jisung, please don’t hurt him.”

“Shut up, Chan. Minho doesn’t seem to understand what we’re doing here.”

Minho stayed silent, the blade so close. 

“We cut them open. We get into their heads and we pull out the bad shit that lives there.” Minho watched in terror, the blade pressing against his cheek. He could feel the draw of blood, “we get rid of alien scum, Minho. That’s what we do!”

“Jisung, please.”

“I see a lot in you, Minho. I see that you’re not as shocked as you’re acting. You’re calm, and collected. You’re understanding. So why the facade?”

Shit. 

Minho blinked, “f-facade?”

“How did you know we were doing this down here, hm?”

Jesus Christ. 

“I didn’t—“

Jisung shoved Minho into the door, moving the blade to another spot on his cheek, “don’t lie to me. I know that you knew.”

Minho swallowed hard, “I just…”

How could he get out of this?

“If you breathe a word of what we’re doing down here to anyone I will slit your throat. I don’t know what your interest is with Chan, but I won’t tolerate you ruining this and getting Chan and I in trouble.”

This was madness. 

“Jisung I really don’t—I don’t understand what you’re insinuating about me.“

“Your interest in Chan. You knew he’d fall for you the second you mentioned aliens, didn’t you? It was perfect. You’re perfect.”

“I—“

“If you lie to me, I will kill you.”

Chan was silent, eyes wide and on Minho. 

Okay. Fine. 

“Yes. I knew,” Minho stammered. Anything to get out of this, “I didn’t know that you were killing people down here—“

“They don’t always die.”

Minho gulped, “I knew you were experimenting though.”

“You used me?” Chan sounded hurt, Minho giving him a weak shake of the head. 

This wasn’t going the way he wanted it to. 

“I didnt. I genuinely like you—“

“Minho.” Jisung growled. 

“I do! I do like him!” 

Why was that so hard to believe?!

“He’s attractive and different. I don’t really care about the alien thing. I just wanted him to pay attention to me!”

Chan blinked in realization. 

“And the alien thing?”

“I didn’t know you guys were down here doing this to people... It made sense with how late Chan stayed at work. I—“

“You’ve has access to his phone, haven't you?”

Just the playlist. 

“Yeah, but just for music. I swear.”

“I brought you here because I trust that you’re not working with the government . I trust that you came to help us, not harm us. Am I right?”

Jesus what the fuck was Minho supposed to do with that?!

“You’re right. I want to help.”

“That’s what I thought.” Jisung pulled the blade away, “one word to authorities, and you’re dead, you understand? I have big people on my side, Minho.”

Okay. 

Minho nodded, Chan stepping in front of him, hand at his face, “Minho…?”

“I’m fine. I’m okay,” Minho lied, “I won’t say anything. I don’t want you guys getting in trouble.”

“We wouldn’t get in trouble, but you would.” Chan took a deep breath as Jisung shoved a new tool into his chest, Minho realizing it was a fucking drill, “it may seem crazy, but we know what we’re doing.”

Minho just nodded in understanding, though his head was screaming at him to run away. 

He wasn’t sure why he didn’t run away. Even when the man stirred awake through the anesthetic Jisung gave to him, he continued to watch. He stayed quiet, cringing at the drill burying into the man's skull and closing his eyes as the spray of blood from the drill slipping in Chan’s grasp met his own face. 

It was disturbing. Disgruntling. Disgusting. But Minho stayed silent. He didn’t have much choice, right? 

Plus he was cast with some sort of protection for Chan. He didn’t want Chan to get in trouble. He liked him. 

“Minho.”

Minho opened his eyes, avoiding the bloody mess of the man slouched over in the chair. 

“Are you in?”

Minho had no choice but to nod. 

It was rather awful how Jisung gave Minho a bucket, demanding he clean the scraps of blood and brain matter from the floor. But he obliged . He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he really didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t tell anyone. He couldn’t run. He had to help them. 

He had no choice. 

👽

“Minho.”

The car ride felt weird. It was so late now, radio silent as Chan pulled in front of Minho’s house. 

“You can’t—I know what we did seemed awful and wrong,” it was , “but Jisung knows what he’s doing and he knows when someone is an alien.”

Sure he did. 

“He found nothing…” Minho whispered, a slight mistake. 

“He knows what he’s doing. I’m sorry for bringing you but Jisung didn’t give me much choice. For some reason he really wanted you there…” 

Minho took a deep breath, “what do I do, Chan?”

“You just keep coming and cleaning up the pieces.”

“Why me?”

“Jisung said he knows you’re meticulous and that you clean well. I don’t know how he found that out.”

Minho tensed. He did not want Jisung to know that about him. He didn’t want Jisung snooping. Oh god, what else did he know?!

“I’m so sorry, Minho. I really do like you. I swear I do…”

Minho turned, studying Chan’s saddened face, “I like you too. I wasn’t making that up.”

“How are you so calm?” Chan asked. 

Because he just was. 

“Do you want to come inside, Chan?”

Chan blinked, “after what you just saw? You still want me to go in with you?”

“Do you want to shower?” 

“We cleaned off in the cellar.”

“No, I mean with me. Do you want to shower with me?”

“What?”

Minho let his fingers run across Chan’s thigh, “I meant what I said about you.”

Chan glanced down to Minho’s hand, “Minho—“

“Do you still want to have sex with me, Chan?”

Chan’s gaze met Minho’s again, “after that, you still want to?”

Minho nodded. His gut said no. But his feelings said yes. Plus he wanted to keep Chan as close as possible now, especially with Jisung’s threats. The closer the better. 

He didn’t give Chan the chance to scan his apartment, Minho dragged him into the bathroom fast, stripping their clothes through frenzied kisses as Minho fumbled with the water.  

Despite what he’d seen, he did still want to have sex with Chan. He’d let the experimenting stay far in the back of his mind. Just for a little while. 

Chan had dragged Minho into the shower, bodies pressed together and lips even more so. Chan tasted nice. He tasted so nice against Minho’s own lips. He was almost too tasty. 

“Minho, please probe me.”

Honestly, Minho found that really weird, but he also found it kind of hot. Chan was such a weirdo. Minho wasn’t necessarily sure why he was even bothering continuing anything with Chan after what he’d seen earlier in the day. 

Chan’s fingers lingered too long against Minho’s back as he needily filled Minho’s mouth with his tongue. It made Minho nauseous in a way. He knew what those hands could do to people. What they could do to him. 

“Are you okay?” 

Minho blinked one surprise as Chan pulled back, eyes cutely widened and full of worry. 

“Huh?”

“You’re shaking? Should we stop? Is the water cold? Is it me?” Chan ran his fingers down Minho’s back gently. 

Minho shook his head, “n-no.”

Shit. His nerves. 

Chan frowned, cupping Minho’s face. His nerves. 

“Hey breathe for me, Minho.”

Breathe?

“Should we stop?” Chan asked calmly, rolling his thumbs along Minho’s cheeks. 

“No it’s fine!” Minho gasped out, chest tightening. Why was he feeling so terrified all of a sudden?! Chan wouldn’t hurt him. Though he’d done what he had earlier... Chan was so harmless. Chan would never hurt Minho, right? 

“Breathe.” Chan repeated, fingers so nice against his cheeks as Chan adjusted their position so the warm water hit Minho’s back, stream washing over his shoulders as if he was being blanketed. 

Minho took a deep inhale, finding it impossible to exhale as Chan looked at him. 

“Breathe out.” Chan said after a moment, Minho doing his best to follow along, exhaling sharply. Chan’s face altered with that, this pouty smile that caused his lips to disappear easing Minho’s nerves, “just keep going.”

So Minho did, watching Chan’s eyes closely with every breath. 

He knew why he was panicking, but he shouldn’t be. Not outwardly. 

👽

“I’m so sorry I panicked.”

“Don't apologize, Minho!” Chan replied, curled next to Minho in the bed with a wide smile that was too cute for Minho to handle. 

Minho felt at ease with that, fingers trailing up Chan’s arm cautiously, “can we still have sex?”

Chan blinked in surprise, reaching a hand to Minho’s cheek, “are you sure?”

“Yeah, I think I just have anxiety towards my bathroom or something. I feel better here anyways.”

With parted pink lips and half lidded eyes, Chan gave Minho the slightest nod, eyes fixated on Minho’s own. 

“I’ll probe you if you want,” Minho teased, moving so he was settled over Chan, the older man’s smile filling his face. 

“Will you?”

“Yes.”

Minho leaned down to take Chan’s lips, his own moving meticulously along the cushions that tasted way too good. 

Chan was careful with his touches, fingers lingering along Minho’s hips before sliding to reach for his half-hard cock. 

Thank god they hadn’t gotten dressed yet. Less to deal with. 

Minho hooked an arm around Chan’s back as he deepened their kiss, sighs filled with bliss while Chan’s tongue flicked inside of his mouth. 

“Chan…” Minho moaned unexpectedly, Chan’s hand moving expertly slow along his cock, “Chan it feels so good.”

“You feel good,” Chan laughed, nuzzling his nose into Minho’s, “I can’t wait for you to fill me up.”

Minho honestly didn’t want to wait too long either. He slipped his hand down Chan’s back, the other holding him from completely laying against Chan. 

Chan gasped as Minho’s fingers found Chan’s muscle, taking no time to slip one of his fingers into the space that wasn’t as tight as he imagined. Good. He honestly wanted to fuck Chan as soon as he could. 

“God, I swear you’ve abducted me…” Chan laughed before sinking his teeth into Minho’s bottom lip.

It was honestly kinda funny how Chan made all these alien jokes considering what he’d done earlier. Did Chan actually want aliens to abduct and probe him? He was so weird. 

“Maybe I have,” Minho whispered back, nails digging into Chan’s ass as he pushed a second finger, wiggling them with ease as Chan moaned into his mouth. 

Chan writhed underneath of him, hooking a leg around Minho’s. The feeling of Chan’s curled toes against his leg was unfathomable.  

Minho could feel every nerve inside of him screaming with Chan’s touches. 

“How hard?” Minho asked suddenly, angling his fingers against the interior muscle that had Chan arching his back. 

“Hard!”

“Are you sure?” Minho asked, “I don’t want to break you.”

“ Destroy me!” Chan laughed. 

Minho pulled his fingers from Chan’s hole, replacing them quickly with his hardened cock, smearing his precum along the space. Maybe they should have prepared better. But they were impatient. 

“Minho…” Chan was laughing, angling his hips upwards to brush against Minho’s cock, “don’t tease me.”

Minho smirked before settling himself upright, pulling Chan’s closer onto his lap as he slammed into Chan unbeknownst, giving a few starting thrusts as Chan cried out beautifully loud, echoes filling the room. 

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Minho snickered, running one hand along Chan’s exposed thigh as the other wrapped around the man’s standing length, thumb running down his frenulum cautiously. 

“Fuck!” Chan rocked his hips, Minho amazed by the unprecedented reaction. 

Minho took that as permission to continue, matching Chan’s movements as he pumped the man’s leaking cock, enjoying the man’s gentle jolts. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Minho asked lowly, gripping Chan’s hip as he rolled his own rhythmically, feeling Chan’s walls tightening around him wildly. 

“Yes!”

Chan was so lively, wet curls matting to his face as he buried himself into the pillow, running one hand along Minho’s stomach as the other buried into the sheets. 

Chan was really pretty. Minho knew he wasn’t drop-dead handsome. But something about him was entertainingly attractive. 

“Wanna cum for me?” Minho teased, focusing his fingers around the head of Chan’s cock as the man trembled and moaned excessively beneath him. 

“Yes! Minho please!”

Minho watched Chan’s expression closely, mouth gaped wide and eyes closed tightly. 

“Where should I cum?” Minho asked, “I want to cum too, Chan.”

Chan blinked his eyes at Minho slowly. He looked so small and fragile. Like he’d crumble at any moment. 

“Fill me up. I want you to fill me up, Minho.”

“You want my extraterrestrial cum?” 

Chan’s eyes rolled back as he came. Of course the alien joke made him cum. 

Minho pumped Chan through his orgasm, enjoying the way the sticky white fluid wrapped around his knuckles as he continued to give rough thrusts. 

Chan’s moans were so loud. Anyone walking by would probably be so flustered by how lovely Chan’s noises were. Chan was enjoying himself so much. 

Minho’s stomach tightened as he rolled his hips deep, moving his hand from Chan’s softening cock to his other hip, nails digging as he held Chan tight, fucking into him relentlessly. 

He really never thought he’d be fucking Chan into his mattress. Not like this. 

But thank fuck he was. 

Chan arched his back, muscles so tight around Minho’s cock that he couldn’t help but release inside of Chan, body trembling at the pleasure that ran throughout. 

Minho’s mouth gaped as he threw his head back, orange strands of hair clouding his eyes as he nearly collapsed backwards, moving his hands behind him at the bed before rolling his hips slowly. 

“Minho…” Chan was laughing softly as Minho pulled himself from Chan’s hole, smearing the cum that followed with the head of his cock, admiring how Chan’s hole clenched the air. 

“Hm?”

“That was out of this world…”

Minho snorted, managing to collapse beside Chan, face resting into Chan’s neck as he watched the curly haired man release the softest breaths. 

That wasn’t so bad. No, it really was out of this world. It was so much nicer than he imagined. 

They sat together awhile, just breathing and laughing with every glance they gave one another. But something crossed Minho’s mind so suddenly. 

Minho rolled onto his back, orange hair stuck to his forehead as he stared up at his ceiling with the thought, “what’s the real reason you experiment on people, Chan?”

“Jisung told you,” Chan curled into Minho’s side this time. 

“I want the truth... who told you guys to do this?”

Chan was silent a moment before pressing kisses along Minho’s chest, “aliens…”

Of course. 

“They told you guys to cut people open?”

Chan nodded, “yeah...they told us to experiment on people who had a rival alien species inside of them... so that’s what we do.”

Madness. 

Minho wrapped his arm around Chan securely, “I’ll help. I’ll keep cleaning for you…”

“Why?”

“I trust you, Chan…”

Chan nuzzled into his chest. 

“I have to ask, how much does Jisung know about me?” He needed to know. 

“He won’t tell me everything, but he looked into you after we met. He wanted to know why I’d gotten so drawn to you so suddenly... he thought it was weird.”

Minho let out a nervous chuckle, “what does he think I am, a witch who cast a spell?”

Chan chuckled calmly, “well, not a witch . He thinks you might be something else.”

Minho stopped asking Chan questions after that. 

👽

Waking up beside Chan felt nice. He smelled like Minho’s body wash mixed with a musk that made Minho feel so comfortable. His curls were a mess from laying on them wet, but he was so cute. He looked so soft in Minho’s arms…

“Morning,” Chan smiled, dimples on full display as he stretched against Minho, lips pressing small pecks to Minho’s chest. 

Minho couldn’t fight his own grin as he pet through Chan’s hair, “good morning, Chan…”

“We work today,” Chan sighed, “are you okay?”

Minho could feel Chan getting serious, “I’m okay, I promise.”

“Yesterday, Minho I’m so sorry that Jisung hurt you,” Chan brought his hand to Minho’s cheek that they’d bandaged after the shower, “he’s just, he’s very serious about what we do. We would be locked up if the wrong people found out... you understand, right?”

The wrong people. 

“I understand,” Minho said, nuzzling into Chan’s warmth. 

“Breakfast?”

Minho couldn’t turn that down. 

Every week was the same. It got easier, honestly. Cleaning up Jisung and Chan’s mess of brain and blood got a lot easier. And Chan and him had become a couple of sorts. They even flirted openly at work. 

Minho really did like Chan. He wouldn’t turn them in. 

He couldn’t anyways. 

Chan was... those stupid dimples controlled him. He really liked him. He couldn’t lose him. 

“Chan, can you pass me the onions?” It had gotten to the point where Minho had Chan over every night. They’d eat dinners together. It was nice. 

“Here,” Chan took a deep breath as he passed Minho the bowl of onions, “so I have something to share…”

Minho glanced up as he cut the onions, “yeah?”

“I invited Jisung tonight.”

If Minho wasn’t an expert with his knives, he would have cut his fingers off. 

“You invited Jisung?”

Chan nodded, “it was sudden, he should be here soon.”

Shit. 

“ Okay. That’s fine…” 

Jisung hated him. 

“Are you sure? I know you two don’t get along well…”

No shit, Chan. 

Minho would be more upset if Chan wasn’t so cute. 

“I’ll just make extra for him. It’s fine!” Minho assured, Chan offering a bright grin before going to where the vegetables were sat on the counter. 

It’ll be fine. 

Jisung was fucking scary. He came so casually, dressed fairly comfortably as he lay his jacket over the back of Minho’s couch, scanning the room almost instantly. Maybe he was looking for government bugs. Jisung was fucking weird. 

“Make yourself at home…”

So Jisung did. Jisung scanned the house too closely, staying in Minho’s bathroom too long and even lingering over his shoulder as he finished their meal. 

But he tread carefully. His life was in Jisung’s hands. 

“How is it?” Minho asked, peering up from his plate to study Jisung. Jisung was eating normally. He at least didn’t think Minho would poison his food. 

“It’s awesome, you’re really talented when it comes to food.”

Compliments were good. 

“You’re also magnificent at cleaning.”

Okay. 

Minho watched him, “I just like to clean a lot.”

“You have so much bleach,” Jisung added, taking a large portion of food into his cheeks, “and sponges galore.”

“I like to be stocked…”

“Funny how your fridge is practically empty though.” 

“ Jisung .” Chan interjected, “don’t criticize him…”

“I’m not. I just find it odd that he’s got lots of cleaning supplies yet no food. He only had three rolls of toilet paper, toothpaste squeezed to the cap, and his shampoo is at the bottom of the bottle.”

Jisung took another large bite, giving Minho a sly smirk. 

“Leave him alone.”

“I’m a germaphobe.” Minho whispered, “as long as every surface is clean I’m fine.”

Jisung arched his brow, giving a slight nod of approval, “my apologies then.”

But Jisung’s eyes lingered too long on the table beside Minho. And Minho took too long to notice the grilled onion that must’ve fallen off of Minho’s plate, sitting on the table with sauce spreading. 

Minho dabbed it quickly, rolling the onion in a paper towel before directing his attention away from Jisung. 

Chan was oblivious. 

“Minho you’re such a good chef! I picked a good one didn’t I, Jisung?” Chan smiled wide, dimples calming Minho’s nerves slightly. 

“You sure did, Chan.”

Jisung was scary. 

👽

“I’m sorry I invited him so unexpectedly,” Chan started, combing his fingers through Minho’s orange locks, “I’m sorry if he was rude too…”

“I just don’t like germs.” 

“You’re a messy eater.”

Even Chan could tell it was bullshit. 

Minho sighed, pulling up to look at Chan, “when I was a kid my mom used to make messes in the bathroom a lot.”

Messes. Sure. Messes. 

Chan blinked in wonder. 

“She…” Minho’s brain wasn’t working fast enough, “she would eat there. Like full course meals. And she always forced me to clean it up. So I just... it’s really just the bathroom I keep clean.”

Chan seemed to believe that. Though it wasn’t entirely false. 

“That’s heartbreaking.”

“Yeah when she died I just... the linger of the smell is just always there. So I clean it a lot.”

“I’m so sorry.” Chan frowned before closing the space between them, resting his chin on Minho’s shoulder. 

The next day was quiet. Chan wasn’t working so Minho was left alone in the office, doing his usual copying. It was tedious and boring, but it made time pass. He’d be able to see Chan tonight before tomorrow’s meeting. 

“Why Chan ?”

Minho yelled out, dropping his stack of papers to the ground. 

“What made someone as beautiful as you fall for Chan?”

Minho didn’t like what Jisung was insinuating. He didn’t like that Jisung was at his job. 

“How did you—“

“I asked to come in.” Jisung rolled his eyes, “answer me.”

“I’ve always liked Chan…” Minho huffed. 

“I love him but he’s so plain. Don’t lie to me. You know your life is in my grasp.”

Minho took a deep breath before closing the door to the room, “look, he ignored me. I got really jealous.”

“He only cares about alien stuff.” Jisung added. 

“He only started paying me attention when I made an alien joke one day. I didn’t think that he’d actually show interest after. I’m—I know I’m attractive. I could have anyone I wanted but Chan for a really long time never wanted me. So…”

“So you saw him as a challenge?”

“I liked his dimples. And yeah, I wanted him to notice me. I wanted him to see how lucky he was to get my attention. But I do like him, Jisung..”

“You’re so self centered.”

Minho nodded, “I’m aware... but I’m not going to hurt Chan. He’s really sweet. I really like him, Jisung.”

“You’re tense.”

“You came behind me unannounced.” Minho spat back, leaning down to pick his papers up. 

“It’s almost as if you’ve put Chan in a trance.”

Minho rolled his eyes, “he likes me. He told me he only hadn’t approached me because he thought I’d reject him.”

“You have answers for everything, Minho.” Jisung laughed, leaning down to help with the papers, eyeing Minho close. 

“Yeah, you asked. I answered. I’m being honest with you because you fucking scare me.” Minho shot back. 

Jisung smirked, “okay, Minho.”

Minho would have preferred Jisung didn’t help him with the papers, but the younger couldn’t resist. 

“See you tomorrow, Minho. Thank you for your honesty.”

Minho furrowed his brow as Jisung lay the stack of papers into his hands before turning on his heels. 

That didn’t sit right with Minho. 

Not one bit. 

“I’m sorry he went to the office. I had no idea,” Chan frowned, snuggled up beside Minho with a thick blanket, “I told him about what you told me about your mom.” 

“He didn’t mention it.” Minho sighed, popping a piece of popcorn, “he didn’t mention anything at all. He thanked me for my honesty.”

“We can talk to him about it tomorrow…” Chan frowned, burying his head into Minho as the old alien movie played on the television, “he’s just very cautious.”

More like suspicious. And Minho didn’t like that. 

The movie was predictable and boring, but Chan loved it. He’d picked out an alien movie every night before they’d go to the cellar. It was tradition by now. 

Minho stared into his bathroom mirror, scanning his own face before his eyes fell to the toothpaste that was nearly empty, dried paste around the tube. 

No wonder Jisung didn’t believe him. Besides the amount of cleaning he did to the floor and shower, Minho’s house was a pigsty. 

Minho ran his hand across his eye, pulling out the funk of sleep before splashing his face with water, gripping the sink tight. 

This would end badly. 

Maybe Minho was cursed, the moment he pulled himself up he could see the reflection of the dark haired man behind him. 

And it wasn’t Chan. 

Minho couldn’t even part his lips to speak before the small needle entered the side of his neck. 

He should have seen this coming. 

But he hadn’t. 

👽

Minho's eyes fluttered open with the scent of familiar decay running up his nostrils. The sudden rush of sickness that came over him had him turning himself over—well, the best he could. Minho took a moment to realize he couldn’t actually turn. Not with his bare body constricted with ropes that were wrapped meticulously around him. He tried his best not to panic, eyes scanning down his body that was tied securely to the chair. 

They were going to kill him, weren’t they?

Minho’s bottom lip quivered as his eyes scanned his wrists, skin bulging around the tight constrictions of his arms. It was like they didn’t care if his circulation was cut. They’d been gratuitous with the ropes around his torso and legs, and the ones that he could feel around his shoulders weren’t cutting into him, but his arms? 

He calmed his breaths, eyes leaving his arms to scan the room. The room he already knew fairly well. 

Why had he participated in this madness? 

Minho felt his eyes tearing up, something he was trying to prevent. He could get out of this if he just stayed calm and listened to Chan and Jisung. He knew the drill. The drill. God, the thought of what they would do to him sent. shivers running down his spine. 

“Calm... calm.” Minho let his eyes fall shut again as he tried his best to recite breathing exercises he’d learned from Chan, fingers doing their best to clutch the arm of the chair he’d been tied to. 

He could already feel the lack of circulation in his fingers. His entire arm felt like it had fallen asleep and he couldn’t do anything to shake it. 

“Hello, invader!”

Minho’s eyes shot back open, head tilting slightly towards the doorway. Jisung . 

“How are you feeling?” Minho knew it was best to play along as Jisung crossed the room, lab coat covered in blood hung around his shoulders as a giant smile lay across his face, “no discomfort?”

“I’m fine,” he lied, watching Jisung closely, “the ties are a little too tight on my arms though.” 

His voice was like a whisper, Jisung’s smile growing in a way he hadn’t thought possible before. 

“Do you want me to loosen them?” 

Minho felt like that was a trap. Jisung did that a lot. Minho remembered overhearing Jisung ask another poor victim that same question. And he remembered the horrifying sound of screaming as they tightened the poor victims' ropes. 

“Jisung…”

“Yes?”

“Why am I here?”

Jisung tilted his head again, locks of brown hair clouding his eyes, “you know why.”

Minho felt tense, “I know that saying I don’t have anything in my head is useless but…” Minho trailed off. It was useless to even ask for Jisung’s  kindness. Because he knew better. And Jisung was not kind. 

“Where’s Chan?” Minho asked, eyes falling to his lower half. He figured he was only allowed underwear because of Chan. 

Jisung sighed, “Chan had a lot of second thoughts about tonight. He’s calming himself down.”

Minho bit into his bottom lip, noticing just how dry it was, “I’ll cooperate, okay?” 

He had no choice. 

“Interesting…” Jisung’s smile fell, “I’m sorry it’s come to this. You understand why we have to do this, right?” 

He didn’t. He didn’t get it at all. Just because he’d shown them loyalty? He did everything right, hadn’t he?

He nodded regardless, “I’ll stay calm…”

Jisung turned away, opening the rusted cabinet and tearing down the tools sure to give Minho an infection. Not that he’d live. He was going back and forth in his mind about whether he’d survive this. He didn’t think he would, but hope lingered. 

“You know, the more calm you try to act,” Minho froze as Jisung tapped a fresh syringe he pulled from a small package in his pocket, “the more suspicious you look.”

Minho just didn’t want them to hurt him. He wasn’t sure what to do to make things hurt less. 

“I’m just trying to—“

“Trick us. It’s okay. Not everyone screams at the top of their lungs, but they at least fight it.”

Minho felt his body trembling, “I just don’t want…” Minho didn’t want to panic or break down. 

“You just want us to be nice because you’re our friend?” He was hardly Jisung’s friend. 

God. Jisung was so fucking delusional. 

“Jisung, please…”

Jisung smirked, stepping in front of Minho, “look, the jig is up Minho.” 

Minho sputtered out a defeated sob, body starting to ache in suspense as Jisung’s fingers crawled along the smooth skin at Minho’s thigh, “it’ll be okay, Minho.” Minho just watched Jisung with saddened eyes before the feeling of something sharp entered his arm. Minho winced as the sensation that finally met him, eyes peeking to see the needle lodged there. 

He knew what that meant. 

Minho hung his head, repeating the breathing exercise from Chan again, the feeling of his body cooling considerably making him want to die right there. 

“Chan!” Jisung’s voice was annoying. The sound of the metal door was annoying. 

Head hung, he couldn’t look up. He didn’t want to see Chan. He didn’t want to feel sorry for Chan, but the moment he felt warm fingers under his chin, forcing his face up, he couldn’t help it.

Chan’s face was sullen, eyes full of pain as he watched Minho. His eyes were sore and puffy, and he looked so pale and drained, much more than usual. 

“Hello…” Minho whispered through the stream of silent tears that ran down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized how little time it took for him to crumble against the anesthetic Jisung had given him. 

Chan looked awful, ”don’t trick me.”

Minho took a deep breath as Chan’s fingers left his chin, emptiness filling his chest. 

Why had he tried his best to please Chan so hard? If he’d just watched from afar they wouldn’t be in this mess. If Minho hadn’t gotten involved with what Chan and Jisung were actually doing maybe he’d be in Chan’s arms instead of at the mercy of his tools. 

Breathing exercises. Minho just focused on that as he heard the clang of tools from the two men who were huddled by the sink. At a glance he could tell that Chan was not okay with this. He could see how much Chan was trying to fight this. God he wanted Chan to fight harder. Chan knew that Minho was harmless, right?

Minho studied their backs as he kept up with the exercises, counting as calmly as he could. 

Chan had to know that there was nothing in Minho’s head. He had to know that cutting into Minho’s head could kill him. The slightest mistake and he’d be dead . Either way, Minho was terrified. 

Everything felt more real the second Jisung came by with clippers in hand, turning the handheld device on, buzzing filling Minho’s ears. 

Hair would grow back, he told himself. He could live. He could live after this and still be with Chan. He would do it. 

Why was he so infatuated to the point he would let Chan open his head for something that wasn’t there? 

Chan was going to kill him. Minho wake the fuck up!

The second the razor hit his head he pulled away instinctively, folding into himself the best he could as he released another sob. 

“Oh come on—“ Jisung growled, pulling Minho’s head up with a handful of his orange-colored hair, “moving just makes everything more difficult, you know this!”

Minho blinked tears away, eyes fixating on Chan who looked so distraught, “Chan…” 

Maybe Minho’s broken voice pulled something in Chan, because the elder pulled the clippers from Jisung’s grasp, swatting his hand from its tight grasp in Minho’s hair and replacing it with his own, fingers massaging where Jisung had pulled so harshly. 

It felt nice. And maybe there was a small glint of hope as Chan shut the device off. 

But Minho wasn’t so lucky. 

Chan’s eyes glued to Minho for too long, and then the buzzing filled Minho’s ears again. 

There was no way out of this, was there?

“Chan, you know that I don’t want to die. I’m fine. I’m not… Chan, you know I wouldn’t lie to you. There’s nothing in my head!” Minho was fumbling with the chair, nails digging with the little strength he had left in his hands, “it’s just Minho. You know it’s me.”

Minho’s pleas fell on deaf ears as the sight of orange locks fell to the ground around him. 

Hair was hair. It was just hair . Minho could still get out of this. 

“I’m just doing the side. I won’t get rid of all of it. I love his hair…” Chan whispered, running his thumb comfortingly on the side of Minho’s head. 

“Chan, can you please loosen them?” Minho shouldn’t have asked. 

Chan turned the clippers off, giving Minho a worried look as Jisung pushed past to shove himself into their conversation, “tighter you say?”

Minho let out a whimper as Jisung grabbed Minho’s wrist, the peculiar sight of Chan grabbing Jisung’s arm in response causing him to writhe in place. 

“What are you doing?” Jisung snapped. 

“Loosen them.” 

“What?”

Minho watched them close, calming his arms in relief though he was still incredibly numb. 

“Just do it,” Chan whispered, hand leaving Minho’s head as he went to the menacing counter. The counter that Minho knew well. 

Jisung’s eyes met Minho’s, “what are you doing?” He spat, “are you in Chan’s head again?”

Minho wanted to answer. But he couldn’t. 

“Leave Minho alone,” Chan said his name. Chan trusted Minho. 

“Do you want the alien to get free?”

“Shut up, Jisung,” Chan retorted as Minho took a deep breath, the small scalpel came into view. He did not want that. Not one bit. 

Jisung scoffed, hands up in annoyance before he gave Minho a look. 

They were going to fucking kill him. 

“One—inhale,” Minho breathed aloud as Chan closed the space between them, pressing an alcohol-covered swab to the place he’d ultimately make an incision. 

Tense. He was so tense. But Jisung did loosen the ties, Minho able to move his arms, readjusting them from their uncomfortable position. 

“Six—exhale,” Minho could barely finish his syllable as the blade ran across his skull. 

It wasn’t terrible. Whatever Jisung had given him numbed him a lot. But it wasn’t going to save him from the drill he knew would come. The drill that would ultimately kill him. 

“He’s too calm…” Jisung spat, watching Minho closely, “there’s no way he’s not a fucking alien, Chan.”

Minho ignored him, feeling blood trickle down his jaw as Chan pulled away, continuing the breathing despite the sudden stinging in the side of his skull. 

It wasn’t that bad. 

“Maybe he is…” Chan spoke. 

Minho blinked tears away, “Chan…”

Chan looked away, preparing the tool that he knew would kill him. 

The drill. 

“It’ll be over soon.” Jisung chimed as Chan returned with the drill in hand. 

The look on Chan’s face said it all. He didn’t think that Minho would survive this. Chances were, if they dug far enough, he wouldn’t. 

“I’m so sorry if this hurts, Minho.” Chan whispered sadly before pressing the drill to the incision at Minho’s skull, digging the pointed end into the opened wound which caused Minho to release small whimpers of pain. 

Yeah. There was the pain. 

“Chan please don’t do this…” Minho clutched the chair tight, “I’ll die . You know I will.” He was trying to stay so calm, but the feeling of the drill at his skull was starting to get to him. 

“Please, please. Chan, please don’t.” Minho started to tremble, eyes fixated on Chan’s faltering expression, “Chan, I’ll die. Don’t hurt me, please?”

“Stop…” It was working. 

“Chan! I swear to god it’s just me. It’s me, it’s me!” Minho started to panic, tugging at the ropes at his arms and trying desperately to move his legs. He couldn’t calm anymore. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not when he had so much left to do. 

“Chan, just do it…” Jisung spoke, Minho giving a sad whimper in response. 

He was shaking, trying his hardest to pull away from Chan’s hold on his head. 

“I have to do this. Please understand.” Chan sounded so unsure. Which was good. At least he was unsure. 

“Chan, please don’t!” 

The drill caused Minho to jolt. He knew it would. He knew the second Chan turned that horrible torture device on that he would jolt and start to panic. 

It hurt. The anesthetic did absolutely nothing to conceal the pure head splitting pain that was happening to him. He couldn’t describe it. It felt like someone was literally tearing him apart. Chan was drilling through his fucking skull to reach the inside of his head with little to no actual means to keep Minho alive. 

He’d die. He would die within minutes of Chan reaching—

Minho relaxed as Chan pulled the drill back, gaze resting off to the side as his head lay against his shoulder. He could feel the blood pounding down his cheek, he could hear it smacking the ground below as it ran off of his skin. 

“He’s drooling…” Jisung added as he grabbed Minho’s chin, raising his face, though his eyes were void and unable to pull from the floor. 

The pain was—

“Chan…” Minho whispered weakly, blood trickling down his lips. “Stop…”

“Minho…”

“It’s not human, Chan.” Jisung sighed, digging his hand back into Minho’s hair, causing the elder to whine softly. 

“Jisung, I don’t know…” Chan set the drill down on the counter, raising his fingers to Minho’s head, “what if we’re wrong again . This is Minho…”

“I’m not wrong, Chan!” Jisung snapped, “I know you like him, but he’s an alien! I know he is!” 

Chan had doubt.

Chan massaged his head carefully before he pressed his gloved finger into the fresh hole in Minho’s skull, pain clouding Minho’s thoughts. 

“Think about it. How far did you drill?” Jisung glared, “he should be dead if he wasn’t an alien. And he didn’t even scream, Chan!”

“Jisung, he doesn’t have to scream to—“

Chan stilled, Minho’s body writhing uncomfortably as Chan withdrew his bloody finger. 

“What?” Jisung asked uncomfortably. 

“You need to—Jisung come feel this, I think I’m missing something…” Chan pulled back, stepping too far from Minho as Jisung stood at Minho’s side, still clasping his hair as he dug his finger into the same hole. 

“Jisung, you’re not wearing gloves—“ Chan sounded worried. But Minho couldn’t register. He was in such a strange place. He couldn’t focus. 

“What the fuck?” Jisung dug deeper, opening the wound at Minho’s skull further, nail digging agaisnt his—“where the fuck is his brain?!”

“Did we not drill far enough?” Chan shuddered, eyeing Minho cautiously. 

“We drill the same every fucking time, Chan!” Jisung sounded excited. 

“What does that mean—“

“It means I was right!” Jisung laughed, taking the scalpel Chan had set down and pressing it back to the side of Minho’s head, “there’s no fucking brain in here because it’s been eaten away by aliens!”

Stupid. 

“Jisung?” Chan sounded so disgusted as Jisung ran the scalpel deep against the side of Minho’s head, Minho's eyes starting to roll and blink. 

“Chan, please stop him from doing this.” Minho managed, wiggling his fingers weakly. 

“Jisung…” Chan eyes widened in panic, and Minho could feel hands cup his cheeks as his eyes fell shut, “Jisung, please he’s going to die!“

“He’s already dead, guarantee ! If there’s no brain he’s not alive, Chan!” 

Minho couldn’t even register that Jisung had grabbed a different blade. He wasn’t sure if it was a knife or a saw, but he could feel more blood soaking his skin and the chair as Jisung held his head in place. He really couldn't feel anything anymore. He was shaky, eyes struggling as Chan held his face. 

“Jisung, please don’t say that.” Chan whined out, “there’s too much blood, we have to stop!”

“Chan, stop him.” Minho’s words were small, but finally yielded results. 

Minho’s head fell to his shoulder as Jisung was pulled from him. Minho couldn’t even register how horrific he must have looked, but he could feel himself fleeting as Chan and Jisung struggled around him. 

A clang. Minho’s eyes scanned the floor, contents scattered as Jisung and Chan fought—they were fighting. 

“Chan! There’s nothing there!”

“You’re lying to me!” Chan was in a trance . 

Minho smirked, eyes struggling to stay open, the taste of blood filling his mouth as it fell from the wound at his head. 

It tasted decent . He tasted alright, honestly. 

“Chan! Stop! I know you like him but he’s dead! We have to cut out the parasite—“

“No! He’s not dead, Jisung!”

They were so loud. Minho could feel his body shutting down as more clanging and screams started to overshadow his pain. 

Jisung was screaming like he’d been…

Minho turned his head the best he could, body so weighted as he found Chan on top of Jisung, screaming right back at him as he plunged the scalpel into Jisung’s face. 

This was so unreal. They were so fucking mad . How had Minho gotten so… lucky ? 

Jisung wasn’t strong enough to push Chan away, blood pouring out of punctures in his face as Chan stabbed into him wildly. 

This was interesting. 

Squishing . The screams were replaced with rhythmic squishing that made Minho wish he wasn’t so beaten down. He wanted to see so badly. 

But first—

“Chan…” Minho whispered with as much voice as he could, head resting into his shoulder again. 

Minho heard more scrambling before hands warmed his cheeks, head forced upright and body trembling under the warm touch. 

“Minho, Minho are you okay?” Chan pressed his hand against Minho’s open wound, his thumb brushing tears from his cheek, “Minho, are you still with me?”

Minho wanted to nod but all he could muster was a soft whine, nails digging into the chair. 

And then Chan started to untie him, so quickly that Minho could feel the stinging of where the ropes had dug into his skin. 

And then an unexpected embrace had Minho’s body calming. 

“I’m so sorry! Minho, I knew you were you. I don’t know what he’s talking about!” Chan’s hand was pressed against his head hard. 

Oblivious . He was oblivious. How had Minho managed to get someone so oblivious?!

“I’ll bandage you up and take you to the hospital okay? We can go to the hospital and you’ll be okay!” 

Minho’s eyes shot open as Chan worked on finishing untying Minho. 

Oh. 

“ Chan, I don’t want to go.” 

Wait. 

“You’ll die. I have to get you help. I can’t fix your head.” Chan still had his hand clasped as one hand cut away the remaining ropes, Minho’s body becoming more relaxed with every release.

Shit. 

“No! Chan, you’ll get in trouble,” Minho panicked breathlessly, falling forwards against Chan as the elder freed him of his constraints. 

Chan held him, hand still at his head as he other ran down his spine, “Minho, I have to take you…”

FUCK . 

Minho growled under his breath. He wasn’t listening. Chan wasn’t going to listen. 

He couldn’t go to the hospital. It wasn’t just Chan’s head on the line. He couldn’t go. 

Facade . He had to drop his facade. 

Minho pulled away from Chan, sitting upright, the orange hair remaining on the other side of his head falling into his eyes as he watched Chan with a cold expression. 

“I said no, Chan.”

Chan’s eyes widened, “Min—“

Minho grabbed a handful of Chan’s dark curls, angling his head back so that he could get a proper look at him, “what does no mean, Chan?”

The dark haired man's eyes shook in fear, his lips parted to speak but nothing would come out. 

“Chan, I can’t go to the hospital, do you understand?”

God, his own blood tasted so good. 

“Nod if you understand?”

Chan stay still too long, so long that Minho was trembling in suspense. 

“Minho, is there an alien inside of your head?”

Minho rolled his eyes, “no, I am the alien.”

Minho was tired. He thought that using Chan would be more fun than this, but Chan and Jisung had ruined things. In a way Minho felt bad for Jisung. He liked him enough. Jisung provided him with a lot of substance. Every time they left Minho to clean alone he’d clean the best way he knew how. With his mouth . 

But Jisung had destroyed that the second he poked his finger too far. If he’d just swabbed as fast as he had others, or if he hadn’t gotten so suspicious with Minho he'd still be alive. But maybe Minho should have taken care of him sooner. He could have prevented the messy lump of the dead neuroscience major on the ground if he’d worried about Jisung sooner. 

“Minho, you’re a... but you acted like you didn’t know—“

“I found out that you were doing this. That’s why I took deeper interest in you,” Minho snapped, brushing hair over to cover the now shaven side of his head, “you fucked everything up…” Minho pointed to Jisung on the ground. 

“I…” Chan couldn’t speak. 

“Jesus, Chan I knew that you were taking people down here to kill.”

“We didn’t…”

“Shut up, let me speak.” Minho hissed, Chan shutting up immediately with tears stricken eyes, “you stupid humans, I followed you down here for the food . For the carnage…”

Chan watched in agony as Minho brought a bloody finger to his mouth, sucking the blood off with lust in his eyes, “I was perfectly fine. The arrangement was perfect. But fucking Jisung…” Minho turned his face to the body, eyes darkening, “he was too fucking smart.”

“I don’t get it, I don’t—“

Minho held Chan’s face in his hands, “do you want to keep our arrangement going?”

 Chan seemed so panicked, body shaking in Minho’s grasp. 

“Chan, do you want me to continue probing you? I’ll probe you as much as you want.” Minho narrowed his eyes, “we can keep this up if you wish,” Minho studied Chan’s expression, “if you tell anyone I’ll have to kill you.”

Chan parted his lips further, “I don’t... Minho, what the fuck?”

“Chan, do you want to live or die? Fuck, I really can’t just leave you, you know? You know too much.” 

“You’re an alien?”

Minho rolled his eyes again, “are you deaf? Yes.”

“You…”

“Chan, answer me.” Minho snapped, holding Chan’s face firm, “I’ll crush your head if you don’t—“

“You’re an actual alien…”

For fuck sake. Minho prepared to crush his head between his fingers, giving Chan a last breath before—

“And you like me?”

Oh ?

“You chose me to... why did you choose me?”

“I liked you originally, Chan. The experimenting was a bonus when I found out.” He wasn’t lying. He thought Chan was cute and different. He was peculiar. He liked peculiar. 

“You like me…”

“Yes.”

“But you... You only got this close to me for what I did with Jisung?”

“Not entirely. You’re also attractive.” He wasn’t lying. He’d never lied to Chan. Well, not entirely . 

Chan was blushing, ears reddening as Minho pulled his hands from the man's face. 

“So when you cleaned up our messes so expertly...”

“I cleaned it.” Minho patted his stomach, “I cleaned all of it, Chan.”

Chan was so naive. But also so cute. Minho badly wanted Chan to agree to continue seeing him. To continue dragging people to the basement to devour. 

“Minho... this is—“

“It’s either agree or you die.”

“You’re not giving me much choice…”

“What do you want, Chan?” Minho furrowed his brows as Chan’s eyes fell to Minho’s lips. This human was so…

Chan raised himself slightly, parting Minho’s legs to slink between them, mouth meeting his cautiously. 

God, Jisung tasted really good against Chan’s lips. Part of Minho wanted to tear Chan apart just to taste him too, but the other part did like him. He liked him a lot. 

Minho threaded his fingers into Chan’s curls, angling his head back again while he deepened their kiss. 

“How have you stayed so calm. You could have stopped us whenever you wanted…” Chan whispered as he crawled up Minho’s lithe body, settling himself into his lap as he threw the bloody lab coat to the floor. 

Thank god for the breathing exercises. 

“ You ,” Minho whispered, fingers running up Chan’s hip underneath the shirt Minho wanted to burn.

Chan released soft sighs of his own as Minho’s fingernails dug into Chan’s hard stomach, “Minho…”

“I suppose we have an agreement?”

“I don’t want to die…”

Minho bucked his hips suddenly, reaching his hands to slip into Chan’s pants, squeezing the plush of skin at Chan’s ass firmly, “is that all?”

Chan took a breath, “I also really like you—“

“You’d only get in trouble too, anyways. I mean you did stab Jisung to death.” Minho smirked, glancing over to the man laying at the ground, face beyond recognition. 

He’d devour him later . 

“I did…”

Minho smirked, turning Chan’s face, “all you have to do is keep bringing people down here, Chan.”

“I can do that…”

Minho pressed a finger to Chan’s hole suddenly, “no, you will do that.”

Chan nodded, eyes fluttering with pleasure, “yes. I’ll do that... I will do that, Minho.”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.”

Chan was weird. But his weirdness was so beneficial to Minho. Any sane human would have panicked and tried to run away from Minho, but for some fucked reason Chan was loyal . Much like Minho, who should have ran away from this cellar. But Minho had an excuse at least, he wasn’t human. 

Even when a month passed, Chan was still loyal. He was still dragging innocent people who Jisung’s source said were alien-infested down the cellar with the new promise of helping them. And he even started to watch as Minho would tear them apart as they slept through their anesthetics. 

Chan was undeniably loyal. Maybe Minho hadn’t needed to put up a facade in the beginning for Chan. Chan was so willing to support Minho. Maybe Chan only liked Minho because he wasn’t of this world. Maybe the feelings Chan claimed to have were only there the second he received confirmation of Minho’s extraterrestrial origin. 

Chan was a piece of work himself. He was so bound by order despite being the most corrupt soul Minho had ever encountered. But that’s what made Chan so great. And because of everything, he had become Minho’s favorite experiment . And one day he’d take Chan to his bathroom floor. 

Chan would be the perfect meal.