A collaboration of crossover short stories from one creator into another creator's universe. Make sure to check out everyone's stories in the links in the author's note.

Content Warning: Dubious sexual acts, with depictions of self-harm and violence

Seunghyeon’s words were unbelievable. Taeyong was dangerous? Impossible. He’d been kind and caring and nothing less than the perfect companion.

Maybe they meant it in a different way. Daehyun had dated gold diggers before, and that had been dangerous for other reasons.

But Taeyong owned this estate, and even if he worked from his office, he worked diligently all day.

Was it a petty reason? Daehyun had no siblings of his own to assume what kind of grudge they hold against Taeyong.

And even if Taeyong had done something once in his past to an ex or two, it didn’t mean he was dangerous. They all had skeletons in their closet. Having secrets didn’t mean anything. It was a part of being human.

“Daehyun?” Taeyong asked, his voice cutting through his thoughts, a sweet lifeline in the grey sea.

He looked down at Taeyong leaning against his arm, with worried eyes and a jutted lip. “You’re quiet.”

Daehyun sighed, offering him a small smile. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

Taeyong stared at him for a moment before continuing down the corridor, showing Daehyung yet another part of this unusually large manor. “How’s your head? I mean, does it feel foggy?”

Daehyun nodded. “A little,” he muttered, Taeyong humming in response. The concentration on his face was adorable. It made Daehyun’s heart squeeze, and the thought of pushing him against the wall itched at his fingertips but was cut short when he looked up.

He stopped walking. A portrait? The other paintings that lined the house were generic landscapes, but this portrait was grand with the two people staring at him. His stomach twisted.

“That’s us, you know,” Taeyong whispered into his ear.

Daehyun whipped away from the portrait, furrowing his brows at Taeyong’s bright grin. “What?”

“It’s us,” he repeated, resting his head on Daehyun’s shoulder, letting out a contented sigh. “It’s from the 16th century. You were an aristocrat, and I was just a mere valet. But then you fell in love with me again and we got married. Fate sucks, but at least it always brings us back together.”

Raising his eyebrow, Daehyun would not bother listening if it wasn’t for the sparkle in Taeyong’s eyes. But it was hard to act convinced entirely, especially when the word love was tossed around. “And you remember all this?”

Taeyong giggled. “Of course. I always remember our past lives together,” he said with such confidence before letting out a deep breath. “Though, you never remember. Which sucks since we don’t spend so long together,” he added, gesturing to the painting. “We were only married for 15 years before you died from the plague at 43. And I followed soon after,” he said and looked up. “I didn’t kill myself; I promised you I wouldn’t. I just got infected too,” he explained as if that was Daehyun’s concern.

Daehyun shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, a hopeful, pleased expression. It would have been endearing if the contents of the conversation were different. Past lives? Love? Death? He wasn’t ready to amuse Taeyong’s fairytale wonder.

He tore away and cleared his throat. “That’s an interesting story,” he said, his throat dry.

Taeyong’s grip loosened around his arm, and his face crumbled. “You don’t believe me?”

There was a twang in his chest, and Daehyun wished he could swallow his words and soothe him, but there was only so much he could pretend. Turning away, Daehyun shrugged, figuring out the easiest way to let him know. “Well,” he sighed. “If it was true, then I wouldn’t have to go back to defend myself in court.”

Taeyong dropped his hands. “You still want to go?”

Daehyun understood the confusion in his voice. “I have to.”

Taeyong huffed, his confusion morphing into a deep scowl, red anger emitting off him. “You don’t have to!” he yelled. “Why do you always think you have to be the self-righteous prick and be punished for someone else's mistake. No one’s come looking for you!”

The booming voice from the usually soft-spoken Taeyong was enough to knock Daehyun back. But he stood his ground. “You know they will eventually, right? It’ll be worse for me if I don’t go on my own accord. England isn’t exactly known for hiding criminals.”

“You’re not a criminal!” Taeyong shrieked. The two of them fell silent, stretching out and suffocating the air. Taeyong closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened his mouth to speak, but his lips trembled too much, and he snapped it shut. Instead, he spun on his heels and marched away.

Taeyong’s outburst was a kind of possessiveness that shook his core. Raw anger and pain. Maybe this is what Seunghyeon had meant. Daehyun tsked and shook his head. Somehow, he still couldn’t blame him.

Daehyun knocked on Taeyong's bedroom door. He thought Taeyong would collect himself by now, but the silence at dinner proved otherwise.

“Come in,” Taeyong called out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sighing, Daehyun pushed down the knob and stepped into the room. A single lamp on the nightstand illuminated one side of Taeyong, the other lost in the dark. Taeyong furiously wiped his eyes and sat up straighter, tightening his robe. “What is it?” he asked, weaker than what he hoped, by the embarrassment on his face.

Daehyun crossed the room, towering over Taeyong’s thin frame. “I came to apologize.”

Taeyong glanced up at him. “What?” he breathed out.

Placing his hand on his cheek, Daehyun brushed his thumb against Taeyong’s smooth skin, waiting for him to melt into his touch before continuing. “It’s not that I want to go. It’s the opposite,” he started and sighed, “But a high-profile case like mine is not something they’ll keep under the radar.”

Taeyong bit his lip and gulped. Hopefully, Daehyun’s words would reach him, and he’d understand. Taeyong was a hopeful dreamer, as he now learned, but life wasn’t kind to dreamers.

Eventually, Taeyong placed his hand over Daehyun’s and looked up at him. “Let’s not talk about this,” he whispered and moved his face to cover his lips with Daehyun’s hand, kissing his palm.

Daehyun couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed, but it wasn’t his place to force the conversation on him. Loneliness was a part of this house, as the stones in its walls.

Nodding, Taeyong reached out, trailing his hands up Daehyun’s chest, his nimble fingers picking at the buttons. He rested his chin on Daehyun’s abdomen and looked up with needy eyes and a tentative pout.

With a quiet chuckle, Daehyun placed his hands over Taeyong’s and started to undo his buttons one by one.

Taeyong leaned in, pressing a kiss on his bare abdomen, his breath sending shivers through Daehyun. As he removed his shirt, Taeyong trailed his lips down to the hem of his trousers.

“I want it,” he breathed out, already expertly removing his belt, the anticipation rolling heat through their bodies. Daehyun sighed when Taeyong freed his throbbing erection.

He ran his fingers through Taeyong’s hair, pulling back to see the shine in his eyes as he took his cock into his mouth. Sucking in his breath, Daehyun’s mind blurred, focused solely on the beautiful creature in front of him.

Daehyun tugged Taeyong back by his hair, his gaze dark as he mentally stripped Taeyong bare. A thread of spit connecting his cock to Taeyong’s moist lips curled up in a hazy smile.

A growl escaped Daehyun, his hands itching to touch him.

“Get on your back.”

Sweat dripped down Daehyun’s face, panting as Taeyong squeezed around him, thrashing his head and clinging onto the sheets, soft pleading escaping his lips underneath him.

Snapping his hips forward, Daehyun smirked at Taeyong’s gasp. He leaned down, trailing kisses on his exposed neck, taking in the scent of his sweet pleasure.

“Daehyun,” Taeyong panted. His name from those lips sounded so sweet.

“Daehyun,” He panted again, a little softer, his trembling fingers lifting Daehyun’s hand. “Would you ever hurt me?” he breathed out, placing the hand over his neck.

“Only if you want me to,” he said, groaning with another thrust, wrapping his grip around Taeyong’s neck.

Taeyong tightened his legs around Daehyun, pulling him closer and plunging him deeper. He moaned as he arched his back, “Daehyun”. His moans grew louder, and Taeyong’s eyes rolled back, fluttering closed in raw pleasure.

Taeyong gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing against Daehyun’s palm. “Promise you won’t hurt me, Daehyun,” he breathed out as he pressed Daehyun’s hand down.

“What?” Daehyun breathed out, his mind distracted from the building heat.

He tried to tug his hand back, but Taeyong tightened his grip, digging in nails into Daehyun’s wrist. He winced and tried to pull out of him, but he was still trapped between Taeyong’s legs.

Taeyong’s pants became gasps of air, his face turning red. “Don’t hurt me,” he begged, tears flowing down to his ears.

Daehyun's heart hammered against his ribcage. He tried uncurling his fingers, but Taeyong locked them in place, his other hand grabbing Daehyun's forearm, nails peeling at his veins. Daehyun gasped, unable to free his hand from Taeyong's desperate grasp and his breath came out in rasping heaves as cold sweat ran down his chin.

“Then let go!”

“Don’t hurt me!”

Taeyong threw his head back, a ghostly moan leaving his lips as he climaxed, his body twitching until he relaxed, his hands dropping to his sides.

Jerking his hand back, Daehyun stared at Taeyong’s chest, rising from a few deep lungfuls of air before settling, a faint smile forming on his lips.

Daehyun started his mind racing, his hand aching.

“What the hell was that?” Daehyun scolded, snapping out of his shock into anger.

Taeyong fluttered his eyes open at him. Wide like a child caught stealing a cookie. An unsettling amount of innocence for what just happened.

Wordlessly, he looked away and sat up, cringing as he slipped Daehyun out of him, brushing back his hair, dark lines forming on his neck.

Bruises. Lines of bruises covered Taeyong’s porcelain neck, twisting Daehyun’s stomach. He gulped, anger dissipating to a vast dark pit.

“Can we just go to sleep?” Taeyong breathed out, his voice frail.

Daehyun nodded and watched Taeyong lay down with his back to him, tugging the blanket over his shoulder.

Lying next to him, Daehyun couldn’t look away from his neck. His mind was a mess. The Taeyong beside him wasn’t the Taeyong he knew.

It’s hard to trust someone when they hide their true self.

Daehyun clenched his jaw and stared out the window. He needed to know who Taeyong really was. Or learn just how dangerous he could be.