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starnotavailable · 13 days ago

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Kiss of Death

Pairings: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung

Genre: psychological thriller

Chapter: 3/?

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: HUGE MENTIONS OF DEATH!!!! violence, murder, death of a loved one, psychological distress, stalking?, gaslighting/manipulation, graphic autopsy/medical descriptions

Summary: Serial Killer Wooyoung picks San as his next victim until he finds out that San is the Medical Examiner working his case. Keeping him around could be useful, couldn't it?

masterlist

Sunlight fell through the tall, industrial windows of Wooyoung’s loft, catching on the dust swirling lazily in the air. The space was open and airy, all exposed brick and sleek metal fixtures, with just enough warmth in the mismatched furniture to make it feel lived-in. A few potted plants thrived near the windows, adding splashes of green, but the longer you lingered, the easier it was to notice how the apartment didn’t quite fit together, like someone had curated the space for show rather than comfort.

Wooyoung moved through the kitchen with practiced ease, the hiss of the stove and the smell of sizzling eggs filling the silence. He could’ve passed for any young professional starting his day—hair tousled just enough to look effortless, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his easy smile and calm demeanor blending seamlessly into the ordinary.

San had been easier to crack than he’d expected. The way his guard slipped after just a few drinks, the flicker of grief in his eyes—it had all been too simple. Wooyoung should’ve been satisfied. But instead, he found himself replaying their conversation in his head, lingering on the way San’s lips curved around his words, how his eyes darted away when the tension got too thick.

There was something… interesting about him. More than just a target.

Wooyoung let the thought simmer as he plated his breakfast, the normalcy of the routine almost laughable given what he was planning next. Today was about seeing just how close he could get.

On the other hand

San woke to the sharp blaring of his alarm. It felt like someone had taken a hammer to the inside of his skull, each pulse of pain was sharp behind his eyes. He groaned, barely cracking one open to glance at the time—then immediately shot upright.

Shit.

He was late. Very late. The sudden movement made his stomach churn, a sickening mix of dehydration and regret. His mouth tasted like stale alcohol, and when he ran a hand through his hair, he could feel the faint stickiness of sweat clinging to his skin. He needed water. He needed aspirin. He needed to not be thirty minutes behind schedule.

Stumbling out of bed, he swayed slightly, pressing a palm against his forehead as if that would somehow keep his brain from rattling around in his skull. Last night was a blur, but pieces of it clung to him stubbornly—the warm buzz of the bar, Mingi’s relentless teasing, and, most annoyingly, him.

Wooyoung.

San cursed under his breath as he yanked open his dresser, grabbing whatever shirt was closest and nearly dropping it in his rush. The guy had gotten under his skin, that much was obvious. Too smooth, too quick to read him—too damn interesting.

He shoved his arms into his sleeves, only realizing halfway through buttoning his shirt that he’d done it unevenly. With a groan, he undid them and tried again, fingers sluggish. His phone vibrated loudly on the nightstand. He already knew who it was before he checked.

Hongjoong.

He snatched it up, answering with a gruff, “Sorry, I’m coming.”

His jacket was halfway on as he grabbed his keys, shoving his feet into his shoes without bothering to tie them properly. There was no time for breakfast, no time to even breathe—just enough time to get himself out the door and try to ignore the way his head was still pounding.

And definitely not enough time to think about the way Wooyoung had an effect on him.

—---

San’s days blurred together in a cycle of work, exhaustion, and fleeting moments where his mind wandered somewhere it shouldn’t.

It wasn’t intentional at first. His name would creep into San’s thoughts when he least expected it—while he was reviewing reports, during brief lulls between autopsies, even in the quiet moments of his commute home. It started with harmless memories: the easy way he smiled, the sound of his laughter, the warmth of his voice when he said San’s name. But soon, San found himself thinking too much—imagining their conversations, recalling the way Wooyoung had looked at him across the table, how effortlessly he had drawn him in.

The case should have held his full attention. He told himself that every morning as he walked into work, as he slipped on his gloves, as he examined another victim. But even in the sterile cold of the morgue, Wooyoung lingered at the edges of his thoughts. It was ridiculous. He barely knew him. And yet, the thought of seeing him again didn’t bring the usual hesitation San felt when faced with new people.

Wooyoung had been patient.

San was predictable in the ways most people were. He left for work at the same time each morning, stopped by the same coffee shop when he wasn’t too drained to care, and carried the weight of his cases in the slump of his shoulders. Wooyoung watched, careful never to linger too long, never to be close enough to raise suspicion. He didn’t need to be reckless. Not when he could take his time.

And he had.

For days, he let San exist in his little bubble, knowing that the absence of something could make a person crave it even more. But Wooyoung was never far.

He had memorized San’s schedule well enough to ensure that their next meeting wouldn’t feel forced. A carefully placed coincidence, nothing more. A moment at the right time, in the right place. He had done it before, many times.

San barely registered how he ended up at the café near the hospital, his body moving on autopilot, searching for a moment of reprieve between the chaos of his job. He scanned the room absently as he stepped inside, drawn more by habit than actual interest—until his gaze landed on a familiar figure.

Wooyoung?

San’s breath hitched slightly, an unexpected rush of nerves bubbling up as he hesitated. He felt ridiculous, standing there, debating whether or not to approach. It wasn’t like Wooyoung was waiting for him right? He could sit somewhere else, avoiding the potential awkwardness entirely. And yet, his feet betrayed him, carrying him forward before he could convince himself otherwise. Wooyoung must have sensed something, because his head turned just as San came closer. Their eyes met, and for a moment, San forgot how to function like a normal person.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Wooyoung said, his tone light and amused.

San cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “Uh—yeah. I guess.” His voice sounded stiffer than he intended, and heat crept up the back of his neck. Why was he like this?

Wooyoung chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “You okay there?”

“Yeah,” San blurted too quickly, then winced. “I mean—long day.” He rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he could just stop being so awkward. Wooyoung smiled warmly. “I can imagine. Want to sit?”

San hesitated but nodded. He pulled out the chair and laid his coat over the backrest, still feeling the remnants of his nerves from earlier.

They settled into easy conversation, discussing nothing in particular—just the kind of idle chatter that felt far removed from the constant weight of San’s work. Wooyoung seemed at ease, pulling San into the rhythm of casual talk, and it was strange how quickly San found himself forgetting about the chaos outside. Before long, the air between them felt less stiff, and San was even starting to smile more than he had in days. It wasn’t so bad, just being in this moment.

Just as San relaxed into the conversation, a familiar voice cut through the quiet hum of the café.

“There you are,” Hongjoong said, appearing at San’s side with a friendly smile. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about work.”

San blinked, startled. “Now?”

“Unless you want to explain to the boss why you’re out here making friends instead of working,” Hongjoong teased lightly, though his tone was far from harsh. He nudged San, his gaze flicking to Wooyoung with a raised brow. “You two are getting along, I see.”

San sighed, his cheeks warming again. “I was just taking a break.”

“Looks like you found a good one,” Hongjoong murmured with a grin as San stood from his chair, giving him a knowing look. “Alright, let’s go. We’ve got a shift to finish.”

San glanced at Wooyoung, who seemed almost amused by the interruption. “Duty calls,” Wooyoung said with a playful smile. “Rain check?”

San hesitated, but patted down his pockets until he found a small note pad in his back pocket, jotting down his number quickly and handing it to him before grabbing his coat off his chair. “I get off at 5,”

Wooyoung’s smile widened as he took the note in between his fingers. “I can call you at 5 then.” As Hongjoong nudged him toward the door, San resisted the urge to glance back. He could feel Wooyoung’s eyes on him, and for some reason, he didn’t mind.

—-----

San pulled on a fresh pair of gloves, exhaling as he stepped back into the cold, sterile air of the morgue. The scent of antiseptic and something more metallic lingered, a constant presence in the space. It should’ve been suffocating by now, but it was just another part of the job.

Hongjoong was already by the autopsy table, jotting something down on his clipboard. “You owe me for covering for you,” he said without looking up. “I told the boss you were caught up reviewing old reports. Which, technically, wasn’t a lie, considering how much you stress over them.”

San huffed out a small laugh. “Appreciate it.”

Hongjoong glanced over, smirking. “So? How was your little café run?”

San knew exactly what he was getting at, and for once, he didn’t mind indulging him. “It was… nice.”

“Nice?” Hongjoong repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

San exhaled, picking up a scalpel as he considered his words. “I wasn’t expecting to see him there, but I’m glad I did. He’s easy to talk to.”

Hongjoong hummed. “Mingi called me, by the way.”

San paused, looking up with a questioning glance. “Why?”

Hongjoong grinned. “Apparently, you made quite the impression at a bar the other night. Something about you being drunk, some guy flirting with you, and Mingi having to drag you home before you made any more questionable life choices?”

San groaned, shaking his head. “Of course Mingi told you.”

“You know he tells me everything,” Hongjoong said, clearly enjoying this. “So, this Wooyoung guy… that’s the same guy from the bar, right?”

San hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Yeah. That’s how we met.”

Hongjoong let out a triumphant chuckle. “I knew it. I mean, come on, San. Meeting at a bar, running into each other again at a café—it’s like fate is throwing him at you.”

San rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not that dramatic.”

“Sure it isn’t.” Hongjoong handed San a tray without needing to be asked, their movements practiced and seamless. “So, what is it? Just the flirting, or is there something else?”

San exhaled, cutting with precision as he thought. “I don’t know. He’s… different. Gets under my skin, but not in a bad way.” Hongjoong hummed in amusement. “That’s dangerously close to something sentimental.”

San ignored him, focusing on his work for a moment before adding, almost casually, “I’m meeting him after work.”

Hongjoong nearly dropped his pen. “You’re what?”

San felt his face flush at his reaction. “We didn’t get to talk much earlier. Figured I’d take him up on his rain check.”

Hongjoong let out a low whistle. “Wow. Look at you, making plans outside of work that don’t involve Mingi or me. I’m almost offended.”

San chuckled. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Just don’t get too distracted,” Hongjoong teased. “I don’t want to be the one covering for you again when you mysteriously disappear for hours.”

San shook his head, but he couldn’t fight the warmth spreading through his chest.

They fell into the familiar rhythm of their work, methodical and precise, but the conversation remained light. They joked about the absurdity of their job, about Mingi’s habit of oversharing, about anything except the fact that they were elbow-deep in a man’s chest cavity. And San enjoyed the distraction.

San was finishing up his final notes when his phone buzzed on the desk beside him. He glanced at the screen, and despite himself, a small smile tugged at his lips.

Unknown: Still up for that rain check?

San typed back quickly before saving the contact in his phone.

San: Yeah. Just getting out now.

A response came almost immediately.

Wooyoung: Perfect. Where should I steal you away to?

San leaned back in his chair, stretching his fingers before finally typing out a reply.

San: There’s a café I like 2 blocks from the hospital. It’s quiet, good coffee.

Wooyoung responded quickly again.

Wooyoung: Sounds perfect. Text me the name, and I’ll meet you there.

San sent the name and slipped his phone back into his pocket, feeling an odd flicker of anticipation settle within his stomach. It had been a long time since he’d willingly made plans outside of work, let alone with someone he barely knew. But something about Wooyoung made it feel easy—natural, even.

By the time he finally stepped out of the hospital, the sky had begun its slow descent into dusk, casting the city in cool shades of blue and orange. The air carried the lingering bite of winter, crisp but not unbearable. San rolled his shoulders, exhaling as he prepared for the walk ahead.

Then he saw him.

Leaning casually against a lamppost just outside the hospital entrance, Wooyoung looked like he had been waiting there for a while, one foot crossed over the other, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. The soft light of the setting sun skimmed along the edge of his profile, highlighting the sharp curve of his jaw, the easy set of his shoulders. His eyes lifted the moment San stepped outside, locking onto him with a flicker of amusement.

San blinked, caught off guard. “You’re early.”

Wooyoung smirked, pushing off the lamppost with effortless ease. “Or you’re late.” His gaze flickered over San, assessing, before he let out a soft hum. “Long day?”

San exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Something like that.”

Wooyoung nodded as if he already knew the answer. “I figured I’d meet you here instead of making you walk alone.” He shrugged, then added with a smirk, “I’m sure you’ve read the papers.”

San huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Right. Because that’s what you were worried about.”

Wooyoung’s grin widened. “Hey, you never know. Couldn’t let something happen to my favorite medical examiner.”

San’s brow furrowed and he scoffed, but there was no real bite to it. “I’m the only medical examiner you know.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

San shook his head, lips twitching slightly. “Let’s go.”

Wooyoung gestured ahead. “Lead the way.” With an amused exhale, San started walking, Wooyoung easily falling into step beside him.

-------

A/N: this one was way shorter than I intended and I just didn't want things to move too too fast but again, any critiques are welcome!

#woosan #wooyoung #san #choisan #jungwooyoung #ateez #atz #ateez fic #woosan fic

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