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Pig Boy

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His family’s restaurant was the best in the business. That was what Changbin parents always told him when he asked about the nickname. “Don't worry baby, they’re just jealous. They know we got the best pulled pork in this town,” his dad would say, kiss him on the head, and send him on the way to school. Maybe they were just jealous, Changbin always wanted to believe it. Especially when they knocked lunch trays out of his hands and slammed him into locker doors. They’re just jealous, we’re the best in the business.

The nickname followed him longer than he would have expected, into middle school where girls turned him down with it (“yeah right, Pig”) and highschool where it became his calling card in the wrestling championships (“GET HIM, PIG”). It followed him all the way across the graduation stage, to his friends laughing and fistbumping in obnoxious pictures at the last party of the summer. “I’m gonna miss you, Pig. Keep in touch bro.”

And then he was in culinary school, which made sense. His parents had pushed him into it mostly, he had never really excelled in classes and he loved wrestling but couldn’t trick himself into thinking that would be a career option. Here, he wasn’t Pig anymore. Here he was just Changbin, in the wrinkled aprons and oversized non-slip shoes, splitting open fish bellies or learning how to cook a lamb chop. It all seemed kind of pretentious. His shoulders were too broad for the aprons to ever feel right and something was always burned  or raw in the middle. He tried. Changbin was never the best performer when it came to class evaluations, but his determination made him almost seem endearing. That’s what landed him the internship, he figured, and what landed him here.

It was an old butcher shop, its worn appearance a jarring break in the rapidly-gentrifying area around it. The counters were pocked and stained with blood, the cash register some old relic that only read credit cards if the numbers were entered in manually. Changbin didn’t know why it was still up, but based on the rave reviews from all of his employers he assumed it was some kind of classic. “The best in the business” but sandwiched between two coffee shops and a pretentious vintage store across the street. Changbin rang the bell, and the person who approached the counter was a freckled old man who took his request for pork loins and shouted to the back of the shop, “Felix! How’s that pig comin along?”

“Fine,” Changbin had to peek around the side of the counter to see who had responded. A small guy, probably around his own age or maybe a little younger, with these big dark eyes that only barely glanced up when he said, “Should have it done in about 15 minutes.” Felix was  focused on the pig in front of him, and Changbin was grateful he couldn’t quite see the pig itself when he saw Felix bring his arm down; small, black latex-gloved fist gripping the handle of a large meat cleaver, producing a resounding thunk and a minor spray of blood across Felix’s apron. It was clear Felix had been working here all day, his apron was soaked in red and his arms  had little specks of blood where the gloves had just barely failed to protect him. His skin was smooth, a minor sheen of sweat wiping away when he dragged his arm across his forehead and gave Changbin a quick glance and a smirk.

So Changbin sat and waited for the pig to be dismembered, glancing up at the butcher’s apprentice every once in a while. Felix. He was oddly pretty for the setting, hair dyed some shade of light dusty purple, lips pursed in absolute focus as he worked quickly with the meat cleaver. He cast aside unusable bones or tendons in a bucket beside him, one beside it visibly full of dark red liquid. Changbin had never thought about how much blood would be involved. It made sense and everything, it was animals, but still. Felix bumped the bucket with his foot and the liquid nearly spilled over the side. It was a lot of blood.

Changbin was only knocked out of his blood daydreaming by the ringing of the bell on the counter again. Oh, it was done. Felix was wrapping the cut in paper and passing it along to the old man at the counter. And then Changbin was taking it, and he was leaving, and he didn’t really think about him again. At least, Changbin thought he didn’t. He just brushed it off each time someone mentioned “the best butcher shop in town” and his mind flashed with images of small, latex-gloved hands and fleeting smirks and cute light purple hair.

Until he had the dream.


Changbin hadn’t heard the nickname in years, and he hadn’t heard it like this. Not in that voice. The way it was deep and smooth, the way it echoed around the room. Where even was he? It was so dark and he felt his shoes stick to the ground whenever he walked, some weird heaviness in the air and a metallic smell he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Aw, look at you,” the voice purred, and there was a loud click and the buzzing of lights flickering on as some gloved hand flipped the lightswitch.

Changbin winced from the light at first. He blinked a lot, took in the room around him. It was the butcher shop. The best in town, but the floors were covered in blood. Big thick puddles and thin smears throughout, marring the scratched wooden floor. And then he saw Felix. Still in his apron, well-fitting pants, and those black latex gloves. The cleaver hung heavy from his limp wrist. The lightswitch was shaded in a thin smear of blood, and the doorknob behind Felix too. It must have been the gloves. Or the rest of him. Felix’s apron was soaked with blood, and it smeared on his clothes and some exposed parts of his arms, making the thin fuzz of hair darken and clump together.

Felix barely even acknowledged him, merely offering a little smirk before sauntering to the counter where he had butchered the pig earlier that day, slamming his knife down so the point stuck in the wooden countertop. The man turned around, snapping off his latex gloves and smiling at Changbin, almost sweetly. He walked so confidently, shoes squelching in the puddles of blood across the floor, towards Changbin. His hand on Changbin’s waist was small, but the arm behind it was strong. A threatening grip, making Changbin tense up when his hand ran down his back, settling right at the belt of his jeans. 

Felix was so beautiful. He was so fucking beautiful, Changbin barely even noticed the little specks of blood intermingling with the freckles across his cheeks. Changbin barely even noticed him coming closer, until they were kissing. And God was Felix a good kisser, his hands firm up and down Changbin’s back, running up underneath Changbin’s shirts and scraping across his shoulder blades, making him whine pathetically. Changbin melted into Felix’s lips, and then Felix pulled away and he heard it. So low, almost imperceptible:


Changbin shuddered. His hands on Felix’s ass squeezed tighter, pulling the younger man close. He pressed his mouth against Felix’s own harder, and when he felt Felix smirk against his lips it only made him want to go harder, grip him tighter, hold this beautiful boy until all of him was his own. But Felix broke away again, smiling and hooking his fingers in Changbin’s belt loops. “You like that huh?” Felix asked, leaning in almost close enough for Changbin to kiss him, before squelching back across the bloody floor, pulling Changbin towards the counter.

“Yeah,” Changbin said. He sounded ridiculous, so breathless. Felix just smirked, releasing Changbin’s belt loops to hoist himself backwards up onto the counter, feet dangling over the edge when his fingers tangled in Changbin’s hair and he brought the older man in to kiss him again. He was so aggressive, holding Changbin’s hair so tightly it hurt while he slipped his tongue past the others’ lips. Felix broke it for a second, letting Changbin gasp for air when he moaned out,


One hand traveled to Changbin’s own, bringing the older man’s hand into his lap and grinding up against it. Felix was moaning under his breath, pulling Changbin so close and rubbing himself desperately against Changbin’s palm. Felix pulled Changbin against his neck. He was blushing, squirming under Changbins palm, moaning quietly and whining: “Daddy please.” Felix pulled at his shirt collar, giving Changbin’s lips access to his collarbone, “Please fuck me.” Changbin groaned, he couldn’t help it, and responded,

“Okay baby.” 

So Felix pushed Changbin away, smiling mischievously while he kicked off his shoes and swung his legs up onto the counter. Changbin watched the thin sliver of Felix’s neck that became more exposed when Felix untied his apron and threw it to the floor. The older boy stepped out of his shoes and couldn’t restrain a shudder when his foot landed in the blood. It was still warm. Changbin was happy to vault himself onto the counter, convincing his mind to block out the stickiness of the red stain surrounding Felix.

Changbin couldn’t decipher the look on Felix’s face. There was something triumphant about his look, something mocking. Those lips curled up in a little smirk that made Changbin feel like both the most aroused and most humiliated man on earth simultaneously. Changbin leaned down and Felix smiled, cocked his head just slightly, and put his hands up to keep Changbin from reaching his lips. He was so frustrating. His eyes shined and he smirked and looked up at him and all Changbin could smell was blood.

“What’s wrong?” Felix asked, voice low and sweet like maple syrup. Felix’s eyes scanned over Changbin’s body. He tapped his fingers on Changbin’s chest, tilted his chin up, nodded a little. 

Changbin smacked Felix’s hands away, pinning his wrists above his head while he leaned in to kiss him and ground down hard against his crotch. Felix let out a little moan and a “finally” when Changbin leaned into his neck and sucked until bruises came to the surface of the skin. Changbin pulled away to yank Felix’s shirt off over his head, letting Felix’s hands travel to his own back, forcing their way down under the back of his pants. Felix was moaning, whining pathetically “Daddy” when Changbin felt over his nipples, moved hands to his belt and undid it. Changbin took his shirt off while Felix shimmied out of his jeans, revealing a cute little dick surrounded by trimmed pubic hair.

“Oh, fuck baby,” were the only words Changbin could manage when he wrapped his hand around Felix’s cock. Felix moaned, blushing, squirming under Changbin’s grasp. His hips rocked up into Changbin’s hand. The older boy’s hand practically covered Felix’s whole dick. He pulled the foreskin back and watched precum bead up at the tip. Felix was moaning louder now, practically pornographic when he whined,

“Daddy, please. I need to feel you inside me.” Changbin breathed deeply. His hands shook when he started undoing his belt and noticed Felix gripping his own cock with his eyes trained on Changbin’s pants. Changbin’s dick wasn’t huge or anything, he knew it, but when Felix stared at it, bit his lip, and reached out one small hand to grab it, he felt like it was huge. 

Felix wrapped his legs around Changbin’s hips, pulling him closer to grind up against him. Changbin had one hand on the countertop, sticky with blood, and one hand on his dick, which he was running over Felix’s hole. “Please, Daddy,” Felix moaned and Changbin dragged him back up the counter, lifting his hips so the drool he spat out fell on Felix’s hole. Felix whined. Changbin pushed two fingers into Felix’s asshole and watched the boy stretch out so pretty for him.

Felix seemed absolutely desperate. His hand pulled on his hard little dick, a moan coming knocked out of his mouth like being punched in the stomach when Changbin found his prostate and pressed against it. Changbin couldn’t wait for long though, he needed to be inside.

Felix didn’t even pull back when Changbin pressed the tip of his cock into his hole. He was tight, had barely been prepped, and Changbin expected him at least to wince when he forced his cock a little deeper. But Felix just moaned, eyebrows arching up, wet eyes focused on on Changbin’s own. Changbin fucked into him hard, making Felix’s body slide over the blood-slick countertop, letting the younger’s arms wrap around his back. Felix could feel how strong Changbin was, the way those ex-wrestler arms pinned him in. He squeezed Changbin’s sides and his hands felt impossibly small, barely wrapping around his hips, burying his nails in to compensate. 

Changbin groaned. Felix may have been small, but he was strong. His fingernails dug in hard and Changbin couldn’t help but let out a whine and start thrusting in harder. Felix smirked, “Does it hurt, Daddy?” Felix pinched the older man’s sides, and he just whined in response. “Do you like when it hurts, Daddy?” Felix dragged his nails down Changbin’s broad back, gripping his ass tightly and guiding his thrusts into Felix’s hole to be deeper, faster. 

Changbin’s head was spinning.

Felix still smelled like blood. The droplets that had seemed so unimportant from afar looked flaky up close, almost orange in the thinner areas where blood spread over the underside of his jaw. Up close, Changbin could notice the horizon of blood where Felix’s latex gloves had ended, the little spatter on his chin, the smear in his hair. Changbin didn’t remember him having blood in his hair. Changbin didn’t remember the counter being this wet. The younger pulled Changbin’s face into his neck again and this time Changbin could smell the sweat and the blood and part of him was disgusted when he stuck his tongue out and lapped it all up, making the man beneath him gasp. 

Felix pulled Changbin down further, pushing on his back and wrapping his legs around the other man’s hips to pull him nearly flat on top of his own frame. Changbin was gasping. His hands slipped in the blood, bringing him down so that his forearms were coated in it, his chest resting completely on top of Felix’s. Changbin was still fucking him so fast. He felt crazed. He felt like he would die if he wasn’t fucking Lee Felix. The purple-haired man’s nails dug into him again, and Changbin groaned, would have spasmed if Felix wasn’t holding him so goddamn tight.

“Y-you feel so good, Daddy,” Felix whispered in choppy breaths while Changbin thrust into him hard, both of their bodies sliding a little up the bloody countertop. Felix breathed up Changbin’s neck, pulled the older man closer and latched his teeth down on the meat of his shoulder. “Fuck,” Changbin grunted, thrusts growing erratic. He tried to pull Felix off of him by the hair but the younger man’s scalp was matted with blood. His hand pushed desperately at Felix’s face, but the teeth stayed clamped down until Felix decided he was done, Changbin panting and trying to fuck himself through the pain. Felix was still holding him so tight, hot breath flooding Changbin’s ear before the younger man whispered:

 “You taste good too, don't you Pig?”

Changbin felt the tip of Felix’s tongue trace over his bite wound, shuddering. He was still so fucking hard but he felt frozen, absolutely petrified. No one’s called him pig in years. Felix just smiled, licking and suckling at Changbin’s wound, hips now rocking up to fuck himself on Changbin’s dick. “What, you don't like that one?” Felix bit Changbin again, scratched his nails down his back, “I know what you are, Daddy. You’ve been a Pig your whole life.” Felix’s nails could not have been that sharp. That liquid running down Changbin’s back could not have been blood. It just couldn’t be.

 But fuck did it hurt, and fuck did Felix’s hands have a particular kind of wet slide to them when he ran them over Changbin’s back muscles. Felix brushed one hand through his hair, biting his lip like he was performing, leaving stains of red through his lavender hair. His hips were working ruthlessly, wrenching an orgasm from Changbin along with the most pathetic little whimper. Felix brought their lips together again, and Changbin practically collapsed on top of him, allowing Felix to roll them over.

And everything afterwards happened within an instant.

Felix, now straddling Changbin, broke the kiss. He was still bouncing on Changbin’s cock, making the older man whine so loud he didn’t even notice Felix reaching for the large cleaver he had left point-down in the countertop. Changbin didn’t notice until Felix’s fingers were in his hair, tugging his head back and lining the cleaver up with his throat. Felix smirked at the look of surprise on Changbin’s face, a look that only lasted moments before Felix slammed the knife down on Changbin’s neck with a satisfying thud.


Felix sauntered up to the counter, horns proud on his head like they only could be here, tail hanging heavy between his legs. He dropped the head on the counter, letting the blood splatter a little bit. Oops.

“That’s a pretty one,” the man behind the counter stated, his second set of eyes glinting red as he inspected Changbin’s mouth, lifted up each of his eyelids in turn.

“I know,” Felix leaned with one hip on the counter, “You should have seen his arms.” Felix scrolled through the photos on his phone. He knew it was dangerous, but he liked keeping pictures of the victims before he butchered them. Changbin was so cute, too. Thick arms all splayed out, torso smeared with blood, his skin already paling but for the two bite wounds on his left shoulder. The humans were annoying, but he’d be damned if they weren’t a good fuck. Felix turned, too focused on his phone to even give a look to the man behind the counter, just holding out his palm and accepting a wad of cash.


Felix always has been, and likely always will be, the best in the business. He leaves the shop with a pocket full of money, running one hand through his purple hair, earrings glinting in a strange moonlight.