#keykai

“What are you making?” Jongin asks curiously, barely covering his mouth to catch a yawn. It’s early, but Jongin had slept in dog form and, unfortunately, woken up to the sound of Taemin fucking someone -- he’s not sure who, but the sound of Taemin moaning made it hard to go back to sleep.

So instead he pads into the kitchen in human form, keeping him from having to hear more than necessary. Key, as usual, is there, mixing something up, though it doesn’t smell nearly as good as it usually does. Some days, they’ll spend the whole day in the kitchen together, Key brewing tea and Jongin testing out new ingredients, the whole room smelling sweet and spicy and fragrant.

Jongin wants to do that again soon, but right now, Key seems concentrated on what they’re doing, barely glancing up at Jongin except to say, “Hand me that container -- the black one with the-- yeah.”

“What is that?” Jongin asks, and Key shakes it a little. It sloshes, something wet and thick, and when Key pulls off the lid, Jongin recoils at the smell. “Ugh.”

“It’s snake venom. I’m--” Key pauses, practically holding their breath as they pour a slow stream into the bowl they’re working in. There’s maybe a half cup of mixture and it lets off an audible hiss and begins to roil unnaturally, the magic in it suddenly unstable. Key very quickly caps off the venom, pushing it into place, and then looks at Jongin. “Jonginnie, don’t be scared, okay? I have to add the last ingredient.”

Jongin blinks at them in confusion and then realizes. Key’s lifting a knife to their palm, the same thing that had upset Jongin only a few weeks ago. But that had been before, and now, rather than yelping as Key pulls the blade over their palm, Jongin’s cheeks flush with the memory of Jinki teaching him why Key might not mind.

Key draws the blade flat across their palm, a slow, careful motion that reminds Jongin of Jinki in every touch, and then they dip the whole thing into the mixture, stirring it with the bloodied blade until it settles, turning a deep red-tinged black. After a second longer, Key pulls the knife out and the whole thing seems to shimmer before congealing into a small stone. Key plucks it out of the bowl.

“Magic,” they say, raising a teasing eyebrow at Jongin, and then their expression changes, their amusement taking on a slightly more devious edge. “Are you okay, Jongin? You’re looking a little flustered.”

Jongin swallows. “I… I don’t mind seeing you-- I mean…” He fumbles weakly, knowing that that’s the understatement of the year. "It’s not that bad anymore, watching you use blood.”

Key laughs. “Jinki got to you, then?” they ask, reaching up with their clean hand to cup Jongin’s jaw. “I thought he might. You and him match up well, in terms of what you like.”

“I mean, he didn’t make me,” Jongin says. “He just say that Minho liked… liked when you-- but he and Minho don’t really…”

Key hums softly. “No, they don’t match up quite as well,” they say, and they must see the way Jongin’s brow furrows because they laugh. “Don’t get me wrong. Those two would die for each other. But sexually -- Minho likes to either be in control or overwhelmed. There’s no in-between. And Jinki… he’s too methodical, too careful for that. He wants to take care of you. He doesn’t want any of you under even the illusion that he’d ever really hurt you. And that works well for Jonghyunnie or you. Even Tae. But for Minho…”

Jongin bites his lip. “You wouldn’t hurt Minho, though,” he whispers, a little bewildered. “I know you wouldn’t.”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Key says. “But Minho doesn’t need to know that. He sees so much already -- he knows today what’s going to happen on Saturday, and he knows what’s most likely to happen between then and now, and what’s going to lead up to it. I don’t think he lets on, sometimes, how tiring it is to know what’s going to happen and have to constantly choose whether he’s going to make it happen.

“He likes being in control because it’s familiar, but if you can get him out of that--” Key looks a little distant, a little thoughtful. “There’s two main ways to do it: you can either drive Minho up a wall by giving him something he doesn’t expect, or you can literally just make him focus entirely on the moment, make him stop thinking about what’s most likely.”

Jongin bites his lip. Key knows Minho so well that he’s actually a little jealous. He wants to be that good for Minho.

Like Key read his mind, they smile. “You’ve done it before,” they say. “He looked out of it for hours after you ate him out. I just prefer a different route. It doesn’t matter if he’s most likely to go see a movie on Saturday when I have a knife in my hand and I could change that on a whim if I really wanted. I wouldn’t, but it’s hard to think about anything else.”

Jongin would agree with that. When he and Jinki tried it, Jongin had been very focused on the knife. But Jinki had kept him calm the whole time, pressing emotions into him, showing him how loved and wanted he was. Key doesn’t have that ability. Without that, Minho wouldn’t be constantly reassured. Without that, Jongin imagines the knife would seem more looming, more scary.

He shivers bodily and wonders how different it would be, to be under Key instead of Jinki.

“And… and you just…” Jongin’s mouth feels a little dry. “Why do… I mean, why do you do it, if you’re not like -- I mean, I know why Jinki does it, but…”

Key’s smile spreads, suddenly a little sharp, and they step into Jongin’s space, flush against his front, lifting their other hand. There’s blood smeared over their palm, the cut visible in the middle, but that doesn’t stop them from pressing it to Jongin’s jaw. “Jinki told you that blood is power, right? When you cut someone, they bleed. I can feel that. Every bit of it… it’s a rush.”

Jongin is hit with a sudden sense of realization, hot and a little terrifying, pooling in Jongin’s stomach like a threat. He’s annoyed at the way it makes his cock twitch, the way he knows Key can feel it by the way they laugh.

“You’re so easy, Jonginnie,” Key whispers, and Jongin whimpers softly. “I tell you what I like, what I want, and you’re ready to go to your knees right now for me.”

Jongin shivers, trying to protest, but Key isn’t wrong. He… he wants. Not the fear, but… but for Key to take. To be good for Key. And he knows Key wouldn’t hurt him any more than Jinki would, he knows it.

But it doesn’t feel that way when Key balls their hand into a fist, blood welling up around their fingertips. “Drink,” they say, holding it to Jongin’s mouth. “Just a taste.”

Jongin feels his stomach churn, but he licks up a tiny bit and then gasps. The taste is awful, harsh and metal, but he can feel the buzz of magic in it, the way it makes everything him him jolt all at once, a subtle buzz of pleasure zipping through all his nerves at once.

“Oh,” he breathes.

Key laughs. “I don’t even have to drink it. I think it’s because I’m attuned to potions. I get that touching it. Being near it. Drinking it is just a perk, just makes it better.”

“Better?” Jongin asks dazedly.

Key nods. “Do you want me to show you?”

And Key was right. Jongin is easy.

Key doesn’t even try to pretense it like Jinki does. They find their already bloodstained knife and cut, firm and even into Jongin’s collarbone.

Jongin shouts loudly, startled and a little in pain, but then Key pushes their hand over Jongin’s mouth to quiet him, blood smearing over his lips, and Jongin feels that buzz again, that pleasant high. Key’s other fingers wipe blood off of Jongin’s chest, finding their own mouth, and they slide them into their own mouth, moaning low in their throat.

Jongin tries to whine, but Key’s hand is in the way, muffling him. Jongin shudders, taking half a step backwards, not to get out of Key’s space but so that his back is against something supportive for the moment when Key’s mouth closes around his cut and they lick, tongue pressing into the wound.

Jongin’s whole body spasms, knees buckling and hips lurching, bucking his cock into Key’s hip, and he tears up because it hurts, so much worse than Jinki has ever, but Jongin can’t stop wanting, the blood in his mouth sending tingles through him and the feeling of Key pressing him back easily, so in control despite their size. It’s all dizzying, and Jongin gasps for breath, trying to remember how to get air into his system.

Key shushes him insincerely. “So easy for me,” they tease, and then pull away.

Jongin slumps weakly, letting out a whine of confusion.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Key says. “That’s not your thing, we both know it.”

“But I…” Jongin starts, reaching for Key, and then lets his arm fall. Key’s right. That doesn’t mean Jongin has to like it though, and he’s very clearly pouting, letting out a noisy breath. “Not fair,” he whines. “Key, please--”

“Come here,” Key says. “So needy, really.”

Key doesn’t even touch him. They just wrap their hand over his mouth again and pull his cock flush with their hip, a grin settled on their lips.

“Be a good boy,” they murmur, and press a gently kiss to the skin right where they cut. Jongin gasps and does as he’s told, rutting against Key’s hips. Key laughs.  “Maybe next time Jinki cuts you, you can let me play, hm?”

And if Jongin lets out a pathetic squeak and comes from that promise alone, that’s just between them.