Chapter 2: Read here on AO3
Fandom: 타인은 지옥이다 | Strangers from Hell
Pairing: Seo Moonjo/Yoon Jongwoo (M/M)
Warnings: many (please check AO3)
Fic summary: After Eden, Jong-woo wakes in a quiet mountainside house with Moon-jo at his side. He doesn’t remember how they got there. He’s told he was rescued. That it’s over. That he’s safe now. But the door is always locked. The knives are always out of reach. And Moon-jo never stops calling him jagiya.
Jong-woo plays along to survive. Until he stops remembering if that’s the only reason why.
Chapter summary: Jong-woo's confusion only gets worse after a trip into the village, where it feels like everyone knows him. The more questions he asks of Moon-jo, the fewer answers he gets, and when they finally return home, he finds another secret that only adds to his unease.
He moved carefully, portioning the food like it mattered, plating it with the kind of attention people reserved for guests they wanted to impress. Not too much sauce. A neat bowl of soup placed beside it, steam curling up like breath. He carried it to the table and set it in front of Jong-woo as if the motion had always belonged between them.
But he didn’t sit. He leaned against the counter instead, arms loosely crossed, eyes fixed on Jong‑woo as if he were the only thing worth looking at.
Jong‑woo picked up his chopsticks, held them for a moment, then set them down with a sharp click. “Why don’t you ever eat with me?”
“No.” The word came out harder than he intended. “You make the food. You watch me eat. You sit in the dark until I fall asleep. That’s not the same.”
Moon‑jo watched him, faintly amused, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “I didn’t think you wanted company.”
Jong‑woo pushed to his feet, and the room tilted for a moment as the legs of the chair scraped faintly across the floor. He pressed a hand to the table until the wave of dizziness passed. “You think a lot of things I didn’t say. You answer half my questions and smile through the rest, like I should be grateful you didn’t lie to my face.”
Moon‑jo didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t drop that serene, knowing smile. He just watched, quiet and still, as if waiting to see which way the knife would land.
“You’re tired,” Moon‑jo said quietly. “We’ll talk later.”
