Work Text:
Yejun’s voice crackles through the earpiece, disbelief clear in his tone. “You’re not serious, Do Eunho.”
Eunho chuckles softly. "Oh, I’ve never been this serious. I really want to marry my boyfriend."
The night wraps around him like a thick, cool blanket, and the air is crisp with a hint of upcoming rain. Eunho walks with a large guitar bag slung over his back, and a small, barely visible communication device tucked in his ear. The guitar bag is a crucial part of his disguise, hiding not only his equipment but also blending with his casual attire. His motorbike is parked at a restaurant, but he has no intention of going inside. Instead, he heads towards an old, abandoned building quite far from the restaurant.
“Wait, what’s your boyfriend’s name again?” Yejun’s voice comes through his earpiece again.
“Chae Bonggu,” Eunho replies, a soft smile spreading across his face as he speaks the name. “But everyone calls him Bamby.”
Eunho adjusts his earpiece as Yejun’s voice continues, now with a more pressing tone. “Are you sure he’s a civilian?”
"Absolutely," Eunho replies confidently. "He’s just an ordinary guy. Gentle, sweet, and kind-hearted. I’ve been with him for five years, and I do a thorough background check before we even start dating. Everything’s clean.”
A soft chuckle escapes Eunho’s lips as he thinks about Bamby. “He’s a florist, you know? To me, he’s like a delicate flower himself. He wears glasses because his eyesight is poor, and he couldn’t hurt a fly even if he tried. He struggles with things like opening pickle jars and can’t handle bitter coffee or sour food. He’s afraid of thunder, hates winter, and catches colds as soon as autumn hits. He’s a bit clumsy, always tripping over things. But despite all that, I love him. I want to marry him.”
“Even though his background is clean, yours is not. You’re a professional assassin with a decade of blood on your hands, Eunho. We both have a dirty job. Are you sure you want your innocent boyfriend to marry someone like you? A wolf in sheep’s clothing?”
Eunho chuckles again, “I’m a wolf, yes. My codename is literally ‘Wolf’, right?”
The abandoned building comes into sharper focus as Eunho approaches. The sounds of the city fade behind him. The door, barely hanging on its hinges, creaks loudly as he pushes it open.
"You know we can’t have special relationships with civilians. Dating them is one thing, but marrying them is a whole different level. It’s not just about them being in danger; it’s about you. If another agency finds out about you, you’re as good as dead. Our agency won’t hesitate to cut ties and leave you behind.”
Eunho doesn’t answer right away, his attention focused on the labyrinthine darkness of the building. Pulling his hat low and slipping on a black mask, he merges with the shadows. The air inside is thick with dampness and dust, and the silence is broken only by the faintest sounds of his careful steps.
Yejun’s voice breaks through again, lighter this time. “And here I thought you’re starting to get bored with your relationship. Last week, you said it feels a bit bland.”
Eunho moves through the dim corridors, his breath fogging in the cold air. "Yeah, I have to admit that. We’re both quite busy, our schedules are holding us back. Bamby’s flower shop is overwhelmed with orders towards the end of the year, and my missions keep pulling me away,” he replies. “I can’t even remember the last time we spent a whole day together. But even so, I still love him."
Eunho reaches the bottom of the staircase and begins his climb to the top floor. The metal steps creak slightly under his weight, each step echoing in the empty stairwell. Outside, the rain starts to fall heavily, the sound of it drumming against the broken windows in a relentless rhythm.
But he is used to working in all sorts of conditions, and tonight is no different.
"I want to have something normal in my life," he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "Even if I might die on a mission, I want to know what it’s like to live like a normal person. I want to love… and be loved.”
Finally reaching the top floor, Eunho approaches an old window. He opens it, allowing a gust of cold, damp air to rush in and send a shiver down his spine. Below, the city lights flicker, creating a kaleidoscope of colors in the rain.
He unzips his guitar bag and carefully pulls out his AX338 sniper rifle, setting it on the window ledge. The gun feels cool and firm in his hands, a familiar weight he has come to know well. It's as if the rifle and he have a long-standing relationship where neither is particularly happy, but both understand their roles.
The view across the street is clear. Through the rain-streaked window, Eunho can see the open veranda of the building opposite. There, in the midst of the glittering city lights, stands the star of tonight’s performance: Gorgein Marcell.
His target, Gorgein Marcell, is a well-known drug lord, known for his cunning and his ability to dodge trouble like, as slippery as an eel. The seven million-dollar bounty on Marcell’s head makes this assignment too tempting to ignore. If it weren’t for the money, he would pass on this mission.
Tonight’s job is clear: capture Gorgein Marcell alive.
Yejun’s voice comes through again, more urgent this time. "Hey, remember, immobilize the target. Immobilize, Wolf. Don’t kill him. You got that?”
Eunho replies calmly, "I know, just let me concentrate."
The trigger feels cool and steady beneath his finger. With a deep breath, he tightens his grip and looks through the rifle’s scope. His gaze follows Marcell’s every move, counting down the seconds in his head, waiting for the perfect moment.
“Target in sight. Immobilizing in three, two—” Eunho’s voice is cut off abruptly by a loud crack. Another bullet flies past, narrowly missing him.
His heart races as he realizes someone else has taken the shot. He refocuses through his scope and sees a precise headshot. Marcell’s body falls backward from the 13th floor, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.
Chaos erupts on the street below. People scream and run in every direction.
Eunho quickly pulls his eyes from the scope and begins scanning the area for the other shooter. The scene is a chaotic mix of flashing lights, frantic people, and heavy rain that blurs his vision.
“What the hell just happened?” Yejun’s voice crackles in his ear.
“The target is dead.”
Yejun curses under his breath, the sound coming through the earpiece with a rough edge. “I told you to keep him alive! What part of ‘immobilize’ didn’t you understand?!”
"Someone got the target before me," Eunho replies, trying to stay calm despite his racing thoughts. "There's… another player on the ground."
He quickly dismantles his sniper rifle and packs it back into his guitar bag. His eyes look around the surrounding buildings, searching for any sign of the mysterious shooter. The rain pours harder, making visibility difficult. But he needs to find the person who has stolen his shot.
“I need to know if there’s any other sniper activity around here,” he says again, hurrying but staying cautious as he moves through the building.
"On it," Yejun replies, the sound of typing filling the line for a moment. "There's a high probability that it's an elite shooter. The angle and precision must be someone highly skilled."
Eunho’s mind races as he tries to piece together the situation. He has to discover who the other player is and why they are targeting Marcell. His eyes continue to scan the surroundings. “Blue, the shot came from the northwest. About 350 meters from my position. It’s probably from the rooftop of the building across the street from Marcell’s. It’s the only spot with a clear view.”
Yejun’s voice crackles through the earpiece again, "Wolf, this is not good."
Eunho’s gaze remains fixed on the chaos below, where people continue to scatter in response to Marcell’s lifeless body. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice steady.
"I hacked the nearest CCTV," Yejun explains, "and your guess is right. The shot came from the rooftop you mentioned. The angle and precision match perfectly. Whoever did this is highly skilled. We're dealing with another professional sniper—one with skills comparable to yours."
Eunho’s heart pounds in his chest as he processes the new information. He adjusts his stance and peers out of the rain-splattered window, straining to see the building Yejun mentioned. From his high perch on the 13th floor, he can just make out the faint outline of the rooftop across the street. It's an ideal location for a sniper, providing a clear, unobstructed view of the chaos below.
“Damn it,” he mutters, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. “I’ve only missed two shots in my entire career, and now there’s another mark on my record.”
Eunho has always prided himself on his sniper skills, his record nearly spotless except for a couple of rare misses that haunt his thoughts. The weight of this latest failure presses heavily on him, and he takes a deep breath, trying to push his frustration aside.
“Blue, I need to get out of here.”
Carefully, he packs his rifle back into its case, disguised as a guitar bag. He zips it up and slings it over his shoulder. Moving quickly, he navigates through the dimly lit corridors of an abandoned building, the sounds of chaos outside growing louder with each step.
The rain outside is unrelenting, drenching everything in its path. Eunho’s breath forms small clouds in the chilly air. By the time he reaches the ground floor, the rain soaks through his clothes almost immediately, making him shiver.
Outside, the city is a blur of flashing lights and distant sirens. He hurries toward the restaurant where his motorbike is parked. What had once been a quiet spot is now encircled by police lights and bright yellow tape. As Eunho approaches his motorbike, he overhears snippets of conversation from a curious crowd.
“Did you hear? Someone fell from the 13th floor!” a voice says, filled with shock.
Eunho’s jaw clenches tightly. He quickly mounts his motorbike, starting the engine with a growl. The bike surges forward, cutting through the rain-soaked streets with a powerful roar. Rain pours down, streaming off his helmet and onto the wet pavement.
Yejun’s voice crackles through the earpiece, sounding frustrated. ”Correction on my earlier statement. The sniper isn’t a pro. This whole thing is a disaster. The target falling from the 13th floor, it’s just... gruesome and disgusting.”
Eunho’s eyes narrow as he approaches a traffic light. “No, you’re right. Whoever took the shot has skills, but their method is brutal. They knew that Gorgein Marcell’s death would shock the country, especially with how hard it’ll be to autopsy his body. It’s like they wanted his death to be as messy and public as possible.”
Yejun's voice comes through again, barely audible over the rain. “If our client didn’t hire another agency, then it must be someone else’s doing. Could it be... Peach?”
The name hits Eunho like a cold blast of wind.
Peach.
Just hearing it makes his teeth clench.
Peach is a sniper from the Caelum Agency, known for being both feared and hated. His reputation is built on being disturbingly cruel. Eunho has heard countless stories about Peach and seen the aftermath of his work. There is a disturbing artistry to his methods of killing someone, but It's the kind that leaves a cold shiver down one’s spine.
Peach’s reputation is all about brutality and fear. It's built on a legacy of blood and terror, his name synonymous with death itself. He's precise but never clean. He takes pleasure in his targets’ suffering, using fear and pain as his tools.
Eunho has only crossed paths with Peach a few times, but those encounters have left a deep impression. The first had been a mission in Las Vegas, where Peach took out his target just seconds before Eunho could make the shot. The second and third had been in Paris and Monte Carlo, where Peach skillfully outmaneuvered him, leaving Eunho with a rare taste of defeat.
Yejun’s voice cuts through his thoughts. "Eunho, you also think Peach is behind this, don’t you?”
Eunho stays quiet, his focus back on the road. Yejun knows him well enough to understand that silence speaks volumes.
Peach isn’t just another rival; he is a living nightmare.
"We need to figure out if Peach is involved. If he is, things are going to get really messy,” he says firmly. “It’s possible Peach is involved. He's known for leaving a trail of chaos and making his presence known in the most disturbing ways." Eunho sighs, his breath fogging up the inside of his helmet. “We’ll talk again later. I’m on my way home.”
Without waiting for a response, he turns off his earpiece and focuses on the road ahead. The rain continues to pour, but the rhythmic hum of his motorbike's engine beneath him brings a strange sense of calm, even though his mind still races with the chaotic scene he's just left behind.
Thirty minutes later, Eunho finally reaches his destination: the small, cozy apartment he shares with his boyfriend, Bamby. The rain has diminished to a drizzle, casting a soft, gray hue over the cityscape. He parks his motorbike and approaches the front door, feeling the residual chill from the rain seep into his bones.
Pushing the door open, Eunho is greeted by a comforting, familiar scent that instantly warms his heart: the rich aroma of chocolate. Following the inviting smell, he makes his way to the kitchen.
There is his boyfriend, focused on baking, his back turned toward the door. His boyfriend wears a pink apron with a cherry blossom motif, looking absolutely adorable with a hamster-shaped hairpin holding back his bangs. His pink hair shimmers softly under the kitchen lights.
The sight of his boyfriend, so focused and endearing, makes Eunho's heart swell with affection.
It's a vision of domestic bliss.
Oh, his sweet little Bamby.
Eunho can’t help but smile as he approaches. Bamby, still focused on his baking, doesn’t notice him at first. When Eunho’s arms wrap around his waist, Bamby jumps slightly, then turns to face him with a warm smile.
“Sorry,” Eunho murmurs, his voice muffled as he buries his face in the crook of Bamby’s neck. The warmth and scent of his boyfriend’s skin are a comforting contrast to the cold rain outside. “I couldn’t help myself.”
Bamby chuckles, resting his hands on top of Eunho’s. “Were you caught in the rain?”
Eunho nods, his nose nuzzling against Bamby’s neck. “Yeah, it was raining quite hard. But it stopped a few kilometers before I got here. My jacket was soaking wet, and now it’s half damp from the wind.”
Bamby’s gaze softens, his fingers brushing against Eunho’s damp hair. “You’d better take a warm shower first. The cookies will be ready in a while.”
Eunho straightens up, his arms tightening around Bamby in a brief hug before he notices the dampness in Bamby’s hair. “Why is your hair half wet too? Didn’t you wash it this morning?”
“Oh, I went out for a while to buy groceries,” Bamby explains. “It was very cold outside, so I took another warm shower.”
Eunho sighs, lightly pinching Bamby’s cheek. “You should have called me. I could’ve bought them for you before I came home.”
Bamby shakes his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You must be busy with your students.”
Eunho’s smile falters slightly.
The lie about being a music teacher has been part of his cover for the last five years. It's a safe story, one that keeps Bamby from suspecting his real, dangerous job as an assassin. The inner conflict gnaws at him. Every mission, every lie, feels like a weight pressing down on his chest. He loves Bamby deeply, and the thought of his sweet, innocent boyfriend being exposed to his dangerous world is terrifying.
The thought of revealing his true identity fills him with an overwhelming sense of fear.
How could he possibly explain the blood-soaked reality of his work to someone as gentle and kind-hearted as Bamby? The duality between his true self and the loving partner he pretends to be weighs heavily on him. Each time he comes home, he is reminded of the double life he leads—a cold-blooded assassin and a loving partner.
As he holds Bamby close, Eunho’s mind wanders to a place he tries to avoid—a future where his double life is no longer a secret.
What would happen if he reveals his true identity to Bamby?
Would Bamby be mad? Eunho knows that is an understatement.
He imagines sitting Bamby down, the warm kitchen filled with the aroma of baked cookies, but the atmosphere tense and heavy with unspoken words. He would start hesitantly, trying to find the right words, but how do you confess to being a killer when you’ve pretended to be a teacher all this time?
Eunho’s heart clenches as he pictures Bamby’s reaction. His boyfriend, who is so full of kindness and innocence, would be crushed.
Bamby’s eyes, usually so full of love and warmth, would widen in shock, disbelief coloring his features. Eunho can almost hear Bamby’s voice, trembling and uncertain, asking, ‘Is this some kind of joke?’ And when Eunho shakes his head, his heart pounding in his chest, Bamby’s shock would turn into something far worse.
Anger.
No, not just anger.
Pure, unfiltered rage.
Bamby would feel betrayed, his trust shattered into pieces too small to ever be put back together. Eunho can see the way Bamby’s face would twist with hurt and fury, his hands shaking as he backs away, as if even touching Eunho has become repulsive.
‘Why?’ Bamby would demand, tears streaming down his cheeks. ‘Why did you lie to me? How could you do this to us?’
Eunho’s explanations, his pleas for understanding, would fall on deaf ears. Bamby wouldn’t just be mad. No, he would hate Eunho with every fiber of his being.
The love that once shone so brightly in Bamby’s eyes would be replaced by a cold, unforgiving hatred. Bamby, the man who saw beauty in every flower and kindness in every heart, would now see Eunho as a monster.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing who had deceived him for years .
The thought is unbearable. Eunho’s chest tightens, a knot of dread and guilt forming in his stomach. He can’t imagine his life without Bamby, yet he knows that one day the truth might come crashing down, and with it, the delicate world they have built together.
Lost in these thoughts, Eunho is jolted back to the present as Bamby cups his cheeks gently. “Hey, what are you daydreaming about? Hurry up and take a shower before you catch a cold.”
Eunho’s gaze softens as he looks into Bamby’s eyes, his heart aching with love. He takes Bamby’s hand from his cheek and presses a soft kiss to his wrist. “I just miss you,” he says, his voice a hushed whisper. “It’s unusual for you to be home earlier than me and even make me cookies.”
Bamby’s smile widens, his fingers gently rubbing the back of Eunho’s neck. “Go on, take that shower before I finish all these cookies by myself.”
Eunho lingers in the warmth of his boyfriend's embrace for a few more moments, savoring the peaceful domesticity that feels worlds apart from his other life. With a soft sigh, he reluctantly pulls away and heads to the bathroom, shedding his damp clothes and stepping into the steamy shower.
The hot water falls over him, washing away the remnants of rain and tension from the night’s mission. He stands under the spray, letting it soothe his muscles and clear his mind. When Eunho finally steps out of the shower, he feels lighter, as if the weight of the night has been washed away. He dries off quickly and pulls on a black t-shirt and training pants.
As he emerges, a smile spreads across his face at the sight of Bamby.
Bamby is nestled in a thick blanket, his pink hair slightly messy and his glasses perched on his nose. He holds a jar of freshly baked chocolate cookies in his lap and is intently flipping through TV channels with a look of mild concentration.
Without hesitation, Eunho slides under the blanket and settles himself behind Bamby. The smaller man leans back, pressing comfortably against Eunho’s broad chest. The warmth between them is soothing, a welcome contrast to the cold rain outside. Eunho wraps his arms around Bamby’s waist, drawing him closer.
The two of them fit together perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle.
Bamby continues to flip through channels with his fingers, but his search for something to watch is abruptly interrupted when he stumbles upon a news broadcast. The screen blares with the headline: "Gorgein Marcell, Notorious Drug Dealer, Dies Horribly." The images show flashing police lights and scenes of chaos from the crime scene.
Bamby’s face tightens with a mix of confusion and horror as he reads the headline, his brows furrowed as he mutters, "How could someone be so cruel?" and quickly changes the channel, clearly disturbed by the grim news.
As the comedy show fills the room with laughter, Eunho and Bamby snuggle deeper into the sofa. They share the cookies, the sweet chocolate melting in their mouths. Eunho’s gaze softens as he watches Bamby enjoying the simple pleasure of watching a TV show.
After a while, Bamby places the jar back on the table and leans against Eunho, their bodies fitting together perfectly.
Eunho’s hand begins to explore, his fingers gently tracing Bamby’s waist before slipping under his shirt. His touch is light, caressing the smooth skin of Bamby’s stomach and moving upwards until he reaches Bamby’s sensitive nipple. The gentle touch elicits a soft moan from Bamby, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.
Eunho smiles teasingly as he leans in to nibble on Bamby’s ear, his warm breath tickling the delicate skin. Bamby responds immediately, turning around and settling on Eunho’s thigh. His hands move from Eunho’s chest to his nape, fingers tangling in Eunho’s damp black hair.
“Hey, you,” Bamby says softly, a playful glint in his eyes.
Eunho chuckles, his hands resting on Bamby’s slim waist. “Hey, too.” He gazes at Bamby, taking in his delicate features. Bamby’s small frame fits perfectly in Eunho’s lap, his waist narrow and delicate in Eunho’s hands. Eunho admires the soft pink of Bamby’s eyes, which stand out even more against his own sharp red ones.
Eunho reaches up and gently touches Bamby’s glasses, brushing against the frames. He knows how poor Bamby’s eyesight is and how he relies on his glasses to see the world. Slowly, he removes Bamby’s glasses and sets them on the nightstand beside the sofa. Bamby closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again, his pink eyes now clear and uncovered. Eunho looks at Bamby’s eyes, their pink hue even more striking without the glasses.
“You are very beautiful without glasses,” he whispers.
Bamby’s cheeks flush, a shy smile gracing his lips. “So, am I ugly when I wear glasses?”
Eunho chuckles softly, his fingers tracing Bamby’s cheek. “You still look beautiful with or without your round glasses, but seeing your eyes clearly is like finding a hidden gem.”
Bamby’s smile widens. He can’t help but let his gaze wander down to Eunho’s lips, a habit he has when they are this close. He's unaware that Eunho has caught his gaze, as a tiny smirk curls at the corner of Eunho’s mouth.
Eunho’s eyes twinkle with mischief as he tilts his head slightly. “Are you staring at my lips, Chae Bonggu?”
Bamby’s eyes widen in surprise, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “I wasn’t!” he protests, his voice a bit flustered.
Eunho’s eyes dance with amusement, and he lets out a soft, knowing laugh. “Oh, really? Because it looked like you were imagining what it would be like to kiss me.”
Before Bamby can respond, Eunho gently cups his face with his hands. His thumbs softly brush against Bamby’s cheekbones, creating a tender, intimate touch. The deep, intense gaze from Eunho’s eyes makes Bamby’s heart race, and the world seems to shrink until only the two of them exist.
Bamby’s cheeks flush even more, but he holds Eunho’s gaze. “Okay, maybe I do,” he admits quietly. “But I didn’t think you’d notice.”
Eunho chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against Bamby’s ear. “Trust me, I know everything about you.”
Bamby’s eyes soften with a mix of shyness and affection as he leans in closer. His lips brush against Eunho’s ear, his warm breath mingling with Eunho’s. The air between them feels charged with a gentle, intoxicating warmth. A shy, yet knowing smile plays on Bamby’s lips as he whispers, “Are you sure you know everything about me?”
Not missing a beat, Eunho leans in, his lips brushing against Bamby’s in a soft, lingering kiss. Bamby responds eagerly, his hands moving to cradle Eunho’s face as the kiss deepens. Their breaths mingle, the taste of chocolate cookies still on their tongues.
The kiss grows more passionate as their breaths quicken, coming in shallow, excited gasps. Bamby’s hands cling to Eunho’s shoulders, pulling himself closer. He feels the comforting warmth of Eunho’s body pressing against his own. The sensation of Eunho’s tongue brushing against his lips sends a thrilling shiver through his entire body.
Eunho’s hand continues its exploration, his touch both tender and demanding. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” he whispers against Bamby’s lips.
“Good,” Bamby replies, his smile turning mischievous. “That’s exactly what I was going for.”
With a sudden, playful grin, Eunho scoops Bamby up into his arms, lifting him effortlessly. Bamby yelps in surprise, wrapping his arms and legs around Eunho like a koala. Eunho chuckles at Bamby's startled expression, holding him securely as he carries him towards the bedroom.
The promise of what is to come shimmers between them, their shared laughter and heated breaths mixing in the intimate space.
Eunho wakes up in the middle of the night, the room bathed in the soft, bluish light of the digital clock on the nightstand, its numbers showing 3:00 AM. He blinks a few times, adjusting his eyes to the low light, and realizes that his boyfriend is half-lying on top of him.
Bamby's face is so close, peaceful and calm in sleep. Eunho’s eyes wander down to the faint, lingering kiss marks on Bamby’s neck, and a tender smile curves his own lips.
The memory of their night together still lingers warmly.
The evening starts innocently enough—just the two of them sharing cookies and chatting casually. Yet, beneath the surface, there is a quiet, undeniable tension. It has been building for days, perhaps weeks, until it finally erupts in the form of a passionate night. Eunho can still feel the warm imprint of Bamby's body against his own, the softness of his skin, and the sweet, intoxicating sounds Bamby makes.
His boyfriend is truly irresistible.
Eunho’s heart swells with tenderness as he looks at Bamby, so peaceful and content. He reaches out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from Bamby's face, careful not to wake him. Just as he is about to pull away, his phone lets out a soft ping, the screen lighting up on the nightstand. Eunho’s senses go on high alert, and he reaches out to grab his phone.
The message is from Yejun, saved under the pseudonym 'Principal'. Yejun, codenamed Blue, is a trusted partner who has been with Eunho through many missions.
The message is short but urgent: "Call me after you read this."
Not wanting to disturb his boyfriend, Eunho slowly and carefully untangles himself from his boyfriend’s embrace. He adjusts the blanket to keep Bamby warm and presses a soft kiss on his forehead. With quiet steps, he makes his way to the balcony. The cool night air greets him as he steps outside, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the room.
The call connects quickly, and Yejun’s voice comes through.
“Wolf, we’ve got an urgent mission,” Yejun says, his tone serious. “It’s scheduled for two days from now.”
Eunho leans against the balcony railing, looking out at the quiet, empty streets below. The city is still and peaceful under the moonlight. He listens as Yejun continues.
“Our target is a drug dealer from Italy. He’s causing a lot of trouble here, messing with the mafia and other dangerous groups. A wealthy client with a personal grudge wants him dead. Given the scale of this issue, other agencies will likely be hunting this target too. He’s made a lot of enemies, and some might try to capture him alive, which could make things tricky for us.”
Eunho glances at his phone, noting the date—July 12th.
The mission is set for July 14th, which is just one day before Bamby’s birthday.
The timing couldn't be worse.
Eunho’s chest tightens with frustration. He has been eagerly looking forward to proposing to Bamby on his birthday. The ring is already bought, hidden away, waiting for the perfect moment to make him smile.
For once, he wants to be selfish.
His heart aches with the desire for something he can only dream of—a normal life, a life where he can be truly free.
He has been thinking a lot about marriage, a thought that is both exciting and terrifying. The thought of asking Bamby to marry him fills him with hope and fear. He bought the ring a month ago, choosing it with care and thought, imagining the day he would slip it onto Bamby’s finger.
The desire to marry his boyfriend is not just about making their bond official; It's about grabbing a piece of normal life, a bit of happiness he can call his own. He pictures simple, everyday moments—cooking breakfast together, lazy Sunday afternoons, quiet nights wrapped in each other's arms—moments that most people take for granted but are a rare and precious dream for him.
Yet, the idea of being selfish, of wanting something so full of love and peace, while he lives a life of secrecy and danger, feels almost impossible.
Eunho knows how dangerous his job is. Every mission, every enemy, is a threat to any dreams he might have. The idea of marrying Bamby while continuing to live in the shadows seems like a dream that might shatter under the weight of reality.
“Eunho, are you there?” Yejun’s voice interrupts his thoughts.
“Yes, I’m here,” Eunho says, trying to keep his voice calm. “I understand.”
There is a short pause before Yejun speaks again, his voice softer. “I know the timing is tough. But we have to stay focused. This target is dangerous, and we can’t afford any mistakes.”
Eunho nods, though Yejun can’t see him.
The calm night stretches before him like a peaceful sea. He leans against the balcony railing, trying to clear his mind after the call, letting the cool night air soothe his thoughts.
Suddenly, he feels a surprising warmth envelop him from behind. A pair of arms, firm yet gentle, wrap around his waist. Eunho's heart skips a beat as he feels Bamby’s presence, the familiar weight of his boyfriend’s petite body pressing into his back. Eunho’s keen senses, usually sharp and alert, have failed to notice Bamby's footsteps. It's as if Bamby has moved as silent as a ghost.
His training as an assassin has sharpened his heightened sensitivity to every sound and movement. He can recall the precise rhythm of someone's footsteps and the subtle changes in their approach. Yet now, with his boyfriend’s arms wrapped around him, Eunho’s usually vigilant senses seem to have faltered. He takes a deep breath, letting the rush of relief and warmth that Bamby’s embrace brings calm his racing heart.
“Go back to sleep,” Eunho whispers, his voice gentle as he strokes the hand that rests around his waist. “There are still three hours left before the sun rises.”
Bamby’s sleepy mumble is a soft grumble against his back. “Who were you talking to? Are you having an affair with someone?”
A chuckle escapes Eunho’s lips, then his hands cup Bamby’s face tenderly before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “I’d rather die than cheat on you.”
With practiced ease, Eunho lifts Bamby into his arms, holding him close like a precious treasure. Bamby’s legs naturally wrap around Eunho’s waist, and together, they move back to their warm, inviting bed. The night embraces them again as Eunho settles Bamby against his chest, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.
Lying there in the quiet darkness, they know sleep might not return. After a few moments of peaceful silence, Eunho breaks it with a soft question, “Your birthday is coming up in four days. Do you have any special wishes?”
Bamby’s eyes light up with excitement as he lifts his head to meet his boyfriend's gaze. “There’s a new, fancy restaurant that just opened nearby. Their menu sounds amazing, but you need to make a reservation now because it’s always crowded. I’d love to try it.”
Eunho’s smile widens, his heart warmed by Bamby’s enthusiasm. He laughs softly, the sound like a comforting embrace in the peaceful room. Bamby’s eyes narrow playfully as he asks, “What’s so funny? Do you not have the money?”
Eunho shakes his head, his expression filled with affection. “You know I’d buy you the moon and the stars if you asked for them.”
Bamby snuggles closer, a contented sigh escaping him. “Alright, let’s meet there on July 15th. I’ll make a reservation for 6 PM.”
The next morning arrives with its usual rush. They prepare for their busy day. Eunho dresses carefully, his outfit chosen to blend seamlessly with his undercover role as a music teacher. Bamby, on the other hand, gets ready for his day at the flower shop.
They share a quiet breakfast, the air between them filled with the comfortable silence of shared affection and the occasional exchanged smile.
Eunho rides his motorbike, Bamby clinging to him as they head towards the flower shop. The crisp morning air feels refreshing, and the streets are just beginning to wake up with the early risers.
When they arrive, Bamby adjusts his hair and glasses in the motorbike’s rearview mirror. Eunho reaches out to help straighten the red scarf around Bamby’s neck, his fingers brushing lightly against his skin. Bamby looks back through the mirror with a playful twinkle in his eye and gives Eunho a quick kiss on the nose.
“Have a great day at work,” Bamby murmurs with a soft smile.
“See you later,” Eunho replies, watching as Bamby walks towards the flower shop. He stays behind, a smile on his face, as he watches his boyfriend enter the shop, the door closing quietly behind him.
Bamby steps into the flower shop, the bell above the door giving a cheerful jingle. The shop greets him with a burst of vibrant colors: roses in deep reds and soft pinks, lilies in elegant whites and yellows, and orchids in exotic purples and blues.
Behind the counter, Hamin is busy arranging a bouquet of lilies, his sleeves rolled up and his face set in concentration. When he spots Bamby, he raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Well, look who decided to show up,” he teases. “The princess is looking for you.”
Bamby forces a tired smile and shrugs, clearly uninterested in small talk. He makes his way to the back of the shop and climbs the narrow, spiral staircase that leads to the top floor.
This upper level is a stark contrast to the innocent flower shop below—It's their hidden headquarters. Bamby finds Noah there, staring intently at a whiteboard cluttered with scribbles, maps, and photographs. Various strategies and profiles of key figures are hastily scrawled across its surface, creating a chaotic mosaic of their current operations.
Bamby plops down into a chair beside the blonde man, then he kicks his feet up onto the table, stretching out comfortably. With a flick of his wrist, he sends his round glasses tossing across the table.
Noah looks up, his face shifting from focused to mildly irritated. “Hey, your glasses are not just for show, you know. Hamin worked his ass off to install the communication device in the frame."
Bamby shrugs, not the slightest bit concerned. He loosens his red scarf and tosses it onto the table with a shrug. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “They’re giving me a headache. You know my eyes have been fine for ages.”
Noah’s gaze falls on the red scarf, and his frown deepens. “And don’t just toss your scarf around. Wasn’t that a gift from your boyfriend?”
Bamby shoots him a look but says nothing. Noah sighs and tosses a folder onto the table. He opens it to find a detailed profile on their newest target.
“Marcus Lei,” Noah begins, pointing to the photograph in the folder. “He’s a major troublemaker. He’s a drug dealer and has been causing havoc, disturbing the balance among the mafia and other dangerous factions. A client from China has specifically requested that we capture him alive. We’re in charge of this one, with Hamin on backup.”
Bamby skims the folder with a frown, letting out a frustrated chuckle. “Seriously? Another ‘capture alive’ job? You know how much I hate those. It’s like trying to catch a slippery fish.”
Noah nods, his expression serious. “I know you prefer being a sniper, Peach. But the client’s request is non-negotiable. We also have to be cautious. There’s a high chance other major agencies, like Asterum, will send their best snipers too.”
Just then, Hamin enters with a tray of steaming coffee cups. The rich smell fills the room as he hands one to each of them. “So, who do you think Asterum will send?” he asks.
Bamby takes a sip of his coffee, savoring the strong, bitter taste, and leans back in his chair. “Maybe they’ll send Caligo,” he speculates.
Hamin nods, then adds, “Or they might send Wolf again.”
The mention of Wolf makes Bamby’s face darken. His eyes narrow, and his jaw clenches.
This ‘Wolf’ guy always has a habit of showing up like an uninvited guest at a party, always at the worst possible time.
Their history is filled with conflict. Bamby remembers one operation where everything was going smoothly until Wolf appeared, turning it into a disaster. With a frustratingly accurate shot, Wolf had taken out Bamby's key informant, leaving him in a mess he had to clean up.
It’s like trying to build a sandcastle, only to have someone come along and kick it down just as he is about to add the final, perfect touch.
But the worst incident had been more personal and far more painful. One day, during a high-stakes operation, Bamby had been poised to take a crucial shot. He felt confident and almost at ease, until a sudden, sharp pain shot through his right thigh. He looked down to see blood seeping through his pants—a bullet from Wolf’s sniper rifle.
The pain was unbearable, but the aftermath was even worse.
Bamby had managed to drag himself back to the flower shop, where he made up a ridiculous story to explain his injury to Eunho, about accidentally stabbing himself with scissors while cutting flowers. The look on Eunho’s face had been a mix of disbelief and concern, and Eunho had been beside himself with worry, treating Bamby like a fragile porcelain doll.
But the memory of that injury is a constant ache in his mind, a reminder of how close he’d come to blowing his cover. The thought of Eunho finding out the truth and being put in danger is something Bamby couldn’t bear.
If his secret life as an assassin were ever exposed, it would put Eunho in danger, and that is a risk he isn’t willing to take.
“Not him again,” Bamby grumbles under his breath. “He’s messed up more of my plans than I can count. That guy’s a real pain in the ass.”
Hamin’s voice cuts through the tense atmosphere like a knife. “But you are the best at close combat,” he says. “You’re fearless and known for being one of the cruelest assassins. You have a reputation for making our targets beg for their deaths. You’ll handle this just fine.”
Bamby barely acknowledges Hamin's praise. Instead, his gaze is drawn to the wall calendar pinned beside the whiteboard. “The mission is the day before my birthday,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I promised Eunho that we’d have dinner at the restaurant I reserved for that night. I don’t want anything bad to happen because I want to keep that promise.”
Noah raises an eyebrow. “Why are you saying that something bad is going to happen to you?”
Bamby falls silent, his thoughts drifting back over the past decade.
Ten years as an assassin under Caelum’s agency, known by the codename Peach —his name alone makes people shiver with fear.
As Peach, Bamby is known for his ruthlessness—he is the ghost in the night, the whisper in the wind, the one you hope to avoid in a dark alley. Peach is the master of making targets beg for their lives. He's cold, precise, and capable of executing missions alone without breaking a sweat.
But when Bamby is with Eunho, he is just… Bamby.
To Eunho, Bamby is just a kind-hearted florist, someone who loves flowers and is nothing like the ruthless assassin he truly is. Eunho, who works as a music teacher, sees Bamby as a gentle soul, someone who wouldn't harm a fly.
Despite his fearsome reputation, Bamby is haunted by the thought of failure.
What if, one day, he fails? What if a mission goes fucked up and he is killed?
The fear isn’t just for his own life; It's for the life he has built with his lover. The thought of Eunho discovering his secret life is unbearable.
To protect Eunho, Bamby has planned for every possible scenario. If anything ever goes wrong and he is killed, he has made sure that Noah and Hamin know exactly what to do. They would create a believable story about his death—something that would shield Eunho from the truth. If needed, they would even use a fake body to ensure Eunho can grieve properly, without the burden of knowing Bamby has lived a dangerous life as an assassin.
Bamby glances at Noah again, who is watching him with a concerned expression. “I just have a bad feeling about this one,” he finally says.
Noah, sensing the heaviness in Bamby’s tone, softens his expression. “You’ve got this,” he assures. “You’ve always come through before. Just stay sharp and focus on the mission.”
Hamin steps forward, his hand resting firmly on Bamby’s shoulder. “You’ve got years of experience. You’re one of the best in the game, Peach. We’ve got your back.”
Bamby’s gaze shifts to the red scarf lying on the table. He picks it up gently, feeling the warmth of the fabric against his fingers. The scarf is a symbol of the life he has outside of his deadly profession, a life filled with love and normalcy. It's a reminder of what he fights for, a symbol of everything he holds dear.
With a deep breath, he wraps the scarf around his neck once more, feeling its warmth. “Thanks, guys,” he says quietly. “Let’s just be extra careful out there, okay?”
Eunho comes home late that afternoon, the sky outside a blend of orange and pink as the sun begins to set. The soft light that seeps through their apartment windows fills the room with a cozy, warm glow. Though his mind is tangled with thoughts about the upcoming mission, he tries to set them aside and enjoy some time with his boyfriend before evening falls.
When he walks through the door, Eunho is surprised to find his boyfriend sprawled out on the couch. The TV is on, playing a nature documentary with the sound turned off. Bamby’s pink hair glows softly in the dim light, creating a gentle halo effect around him. His glasses are set aside on his lap, and he stares blankly at the screen, lost in thought.
Eunho takes a seat next to Bamby on the couch and leans in to place a gentle kiss on his temple. He lets his lips linger for a moment before pulling back slightly. “Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” he asks softly. "Isn’t your vision blurry?"
Bamby blinks, as if waking from a deep thought, and quickly puts on his glasses. “I was just thinking,” he replies.
“Thinking about what?”
Bamby hesitates, trying to come up with a convincing excuse. “Tomorrow, I might be home late,” he says, trying to sound casual despite his nervousness. “I’ve got a lot of work at the flower shop. There’s this big wedding for a politician, and it’s going to take up most of my time.”
Eunho’s worry eases when he realizes their alibis match perfectly. He, too, has to lie about his plans. “I understand,” he says, keeping his voice light. “I’ll be working late at school too. With the exams coming up, there’s a lot of preparation to do. I might not be home until noon.”
Bamby nods, the tension between them easing as their lies sync up seamlessly.
Later that night, they lie in bed, the room wrapped in comforting darkness. But Bamby can’t fall asleep. He stares at the ceiling, feeling like the night is stretching on endlessly.
Midnight has passed, and with each tick of the clock, his mission draws closer. Unlike usual, where he feels confident and assured, tonight is different. He feels a deep, unsettling anxiety, something he has never experienced before. The upcoming mission feels heavier than usual, and the fact that his birthday is just a few days away adds to his unease.
This isn’t like him.
For five years he has been with Eunho, and never has he felt this uneasy.
Bamby closes his eyes, trying to calm himself, but the anxiety lingers. He turns to see his boyfriend beside him, his back turned. The sight of Eunho’s strong, reliable shoulders makes Bamby’s throat tighten with emotion.
Suddenly, he feels an overwhelming urge to reach out, to touch those strong shoulders that have always been the only source of comfort in his life.
Bamby moves closer to Eunho. He reaches out slowly, his hand trembling slightly, and gently touches Eunho’s shoulder. The warmth of Eunho’s skin beneath his fingers brings a wave of reassurance. Bamby leans in, pressing his face into the curve of Eunho’s shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent, seeking comfort in his closeness.
Eunho stirs slightly at the touch, feeling the embrace behind him. Though he is half-asleep, he notices the unusual tightness of Bamby’s hug. Normally, Eunho is the one to initiate physical contact, always reaching out and holding the older man. But now, feeling the slight tremor in Bamby’s desperate hug, he senses something is wrong.
Yet, Eunho chooses not to speak.
Instead, he remains still, letting Bamby hug him tightly.
Gradually, Eunho feels Bamby’s breathing become more even, the tight grip around his waist loosening. He can tell that Bamby’s breathing has settled into a more relaxed pattern, the signs of his earlier distress gradually fading.
Eunho holds him close, content to be a steady presence for his lover, knowing that this simple act of physical closeness is helping him through the night.
The next day, Bamby is already deep into his mission. The afternoon sun casts long shadows across the bustling city streets, but his mind is focused on the task ahead. He and Noah have planned every detail carefully, with Hamin's help making sure everything is set for the night.
Their target is Marcus Lei, a scandalous drug dealer who uses his pharmaceutical company as a cover for his illegal activities. Tonight, Marcus is hosting a seminar—a glamorous event meant to attract wealthy investors and entrepreneurs. The ballroom is filled with high-profile guests, all completely unaware of the dark dealings behind Marcus’s smooth facade.
The seminar event itself makes it the perfect cover to blend in. Noah is stationed to the north, a position that gives him a wide view of the ballroom. Bamby is closer to the podium, chosen for his strategic location that allows him to see Marcus Lei well and keep an escape route in mind. His deep navy blue formal suit fits him perfectly, hiding the Beretta M9 gun tucked into his waistband and the sharp dagger at his hip. He scans the room, noting the possible blind spots, escape routes, and vantage points.
The earpiece crackles as Noah's voice comes through. “Peach, remember Hamin mentioned the windows here are bulletproof, but that doesn't mean a sniper can’t get through. Asterum might have highly advanced bullets that can pierce even this armor. Stay alert.”
Bamby’s eyes look towards the windows again. Noah is right; being surrounded by glass panes means the risk of snipers from nearby rooftops is high. If a sniper from Asterum—or any rival group—decides to strike, the ensuing chaos could be their best chance to capture Marcus Lei alive.
As soon as Marcus Lei takes the stage, the room goes quiet. Marcus Lei has a commanding presence, drawing everyone’s attention easily with his charisma. His speech is smooth and persuasive, meant to attract the wealthy investors in the audience.
Hamin’s voice comes through the earpiece again. “Peach, the sniper might aim for the window pane near the podium or the north window by the exit. The only window that’s not bulletproof is the one by the exit.”
Bamby’s gaze shifts to the windows Hamin has mentioned. He feels a growing sense of danger, believing the sniper will likely target the window near the podium instead. He adjusts his position slightly, making sure he has a clear view of Marcus Lei while remaining hidden behind the room’s pillars.
Meanwhile, on the rooftop of a nearby building, Eunho lies flat, his AX338 sniper rifle carefully positioned in his hands. Only half of his body is visible behind a concrete barrier. He has been waiting there for hours, focused and patient, with his eyes fixed on the ballroom on the 21st floor.
The high-powered scope gives him a clear view of where Marcus Lei is supposed to appear. He remembers Yejun’s briefing about the building’s high-tech security, including the bulletproof windows. But he already prepared a special bullet designed to pierce through the glass. His finger hovers near the trigger, waiting for the perfect moment.
“Wolf, the target is stepping up to the stage.”
Eunho’s grip tightens around the cold, hard metal of the rifle. His eye is pressed to the scope, watching Marcus as he makes his way to the podium. Just as he is about to pull the trigger, two women step into his line of sight, blocking the view completely.
“Damn it, more civilians,” he mutters under his breath.
Yejun’s voice crackles in his earpiece. “Just wait until you get a good enough visual.”
So Eunho waits. He keeps his focus on Marcus Lei as the man steps away from the podium, making his way to the edge of the stage. But then, something completely unexpected happens. A man with bright pink hair suddenly steps right in front of Marcus, blocking the view.
The profile that comes into view is unsettlingly familiar.
No. It can’t be.
Eunho’s mind goes blank for a sickening moment. His hands shake slightly as he blinks rapidly, hoping that what he sees is a trick of the light. But when he looks through the scope again, the reality of the situation becomes undeniable.
The man in front of Marcus isn’t just any random person— it’s Chae Bamby, his boyfriend.
The world feels like it has tilted off its axis. Eunho’s grip on the rifle loosens, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. He stares in disbelief, struggling to understand what he is seeing.
What the hell is Bamby doing there?
This can’t be real. There must be some mistake. There are plenty of people with bright pink hair, right?
It could be a coincidence.
It has to be.
Yejun’s voice cuts through the fog of Eunho’s thoughts, urgent and commanding. “The target is about to come down from the podium. Get ready, Wolf.”
Eunho takes a deep breath, forcing his focus back to the mission.
Inside the ballroom, Bamby’s earpiece crackles with Noah’s urgent voice. “Peach, there’s another player on the ground. I can pick up an anomalous small point of light from the building next to this one. You need to move quickly. Get the target and get out of there!”
Before Bamby can answer, suddenly, a muffled explosion shatters the calm. The lights go out abruptly, plunging the room into darkness. The entire ballroom erupts into chaos, with guests screaming and panicking.
Something has gone horribly wrong.
Ignoring the confusion around him, Bamby sprints through the crowd in the ballroom. He knows that the target will try to escape through the chaos. As he reaches Marcus, who is trying to escape, Bamby launches himself forward. With a powerful shove, he tackles Marcus to the floor, pinning him down.
But just as Bamby starts to tighten his grip, a sharp, agonizing pain erupts in his left shoulder. He staggers and falls to his knees, clutching the wound as blood seeps through his fingers.
The sniper has shot him.
That fucker.
The shot has come from a distance. Bamby curses under his breath, realizing he has been so focused on Marcus that he has let his guard down. Through the haze of pain, he sees Marcus Lei’s body on the floor, a fatal headshot having ended the man’s life instantly.
The mission has failed.
Bamby curses again, frustration boiling over as he struggles to stay upright. Noah rushes over, helping him to his feet. “We’ve gotta get out of here before the cops arrive.”
But Bamby shakes his head, determination hardening his features. He speaks into his earpiece, his voice strained. “Hamin! Give me the sniper’s location. Hurry!.”
Noah’s eyes widen in desperation. “You’re injured! Just forget about the damn sniper and let’s leave!”
Ignoring Noah’s pleas, Bamby pushes past him. He stumbles down the stairs, the pain in his shoulder making each step agonizing. The whole building is dark, the electricity off, leaving everything in a deep, unsettling blackness. Bamby’s footsteps echo in the empty stairwell, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
He contacts Hamin again, demanding the sniper’s location. Hamin’s worried tone comes through the earpiece. “The sniper is in the building next door, quite close. I hacked the nearest CCTV and saw someone carrying a guitar bag heading towards this building.”
Bamby’s eyes narrow. He knows the sniper is coming to confirm the kill. Ignoring the pain, he quickens his pace, moving through the darkened hallways.
The building’s layout is shaped like a letter U, allowing him to see down into the lobby. He spots a figure moving swiftly—a person with a guitar bag slung over their shoulder, heading towards the third-floor lobby.
A smirk crosses Bamby’s face. He's certain that this is the sniper, the one who took Marcus Lei’s life and nearly ended his own. He attaches a silencer to his gun, his hands surprisingly steady. The figure approaches, oblivious to the danger lurking.
Bamby takes a deep breath, trying to steady his aim despite the pain radiating from his shoulder. He waits for the perfect moment, his finger hovering on the trigger. As the figure is about to pass through the lobby doors, Bamby fires.
The silenced shot cuts through the silence, and the figure crumples to the floor, the guitar bag falling beside them.
Bamby doesn’t have time to check whether the sniper he shot earlier is still alive or dead. If that person is still alive, at least now they are both even. He knows he has to move quickly. With the building still in chaos and the police likely on their way, time is running out.
Once outside, Bamby fights to stay calm. The cool night air is a welcome relief from the suffocating heat of the ballroom. He makes his way through the dimly lit basement, finally reaching his car. His hands shake as he fumbles for his keys, finally managing to unlock the door and collapse into the driver’s seat.
“Peach! Where are you?” Noah’s voice crackles urgently through the earpiece.
“Basement. Heading to the car,” Bamby replies, his voice strained. He still presses down on his shoulder to stop the bleeding. The pain is intense, but he forces himself to stay focused.
Noah’s voice comes through again, filled with frustration. “What the hell were you thinking, Chae Bonggu? You’re injured! You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”
Hamin’s voice joins in, equally concerned. “Yeah, why are you reckless?! You need to stop pushing yourself to the limit like this!”
Bamby listens to their worried voices like It's music to his ears. Despite the sharp pain slicing through his shoulder, a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “I’m fine, guys. I’ll call you later.”
He ends the call, his hand trembling as he turns off the earpiece. Leaning back in the seat, he takes a moment to catch his breath. Blood continues to seep from his shoulder, staining his clothes and the car seat. He glances at his reflection in the rearview mirror, seeing the bullet still lodged deep in his shoulder.
The bullet is a heavy, jagged piece of metal, designed to pierce through bulletproof glass. The fact that it hasn’t hit any major organs or arteries is a small blessing.
Bamby reaches for the painkillers he always keeps in the car’s dashboard, quickly popping one into his mouth and swallowing it dry. The bitter taste lingers on his tongue, but he doesn't have the luxury of chasing it down with water. The loss of blood is making him dizzy, and his head throbs painfully, as if a hammer is pounding against his skull. Though he has handled similar injuries before, the intense pain is almost too much to bear.
With the pain somewhat managed, Bamby starts the car, driving back to the flower shop. Neon lights blur into streaks of color as he speeds past, his vision swimming. His mind, however, is anything but clear.
Tomorrow is his birthday, and the clock is ticking towards midnight— only three hours left. The irony of the situation isn’t lost on him; instead of celebrating, he is struggling to keep himself conscious and alive.
How could he possibly explain the gunshot wound to Eunho? What excuse could he come up with that wouldn’t seem suspicious? Should he spend the night at the flower shop to avoid causing worry? The idea of telling Eunho he’d been robbed seems unlikely to convince him, and a car accident wouldn’t cover the severity of the injury. He knows Eunho is smart and perceptive; a stupid story like that wouldn’t fool him.
The image of Eunho’s concerned face tugs at his heart. He hates the thought of causing him any distress. The last thing Bamby wants is to shatter that peace with the harsh reality of his dangerous job. But how could he keep lying to him?
Distracted by these thoughts, Bamby doesn’t realize he has driven to his apartment instead of the flower shop. When he realizes his mistake, he stares at the building in disbelief. Frustrated, he thumps his forehead lightly against the steering wheel.
“Dammit, Chae Bonggu, get yourself together,” he mutters through gritted teeth. His mind is foggy, clouded by pain, but he knows he can’t drive any further.
He pulls out his phone and checks the live feed from the special CCTV camera he has installed in his apartment. The apartment is empty; Eunho hasn’t arrived home yet, which brings him a small sigh of relief.
The apartment is dark and quiet when he arrives, the only sound is his labored breathing. He makes his way to the bathroom, turning on the light and staring at his reflection in the mirror. His reflection is a mess—pale face, sweat-drenched hair, and blood-stained clothes. He carefully removes his jacket and shirt, revealing the bullet wound on his shoulder.
The bullet has made a nasty hole, tearing through flesh and muscle.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he gathers the antiseptic, gauze, and tweezers from the medicine cabinet. He cleans the wound as best he can, hissing at the sting of the antiseptic.
With shaking hands, he uses the tweezers to pull out the bullet, biting down on a towel to muffle his cries. The pain is excruciating, but he doesn’t have a choice.
Once the bullet is out, he wraps the wound with gauze, securing it tightly around his shoulder. Sweat drips down his face as he struggles to stay upright, the effort leaving him drained. Exhausted, Bamby sinks to the bathroom floor, his head resting against the cool tiles.
He closes his eyes, wishing Eunho were here to comfort him.
But he knows that allowing Eunho to see him in such a state is not an option.
After a few deep breaths, Bamby forces himself to stand again. He cleans up the blood and puts away the medical supplies, trying to make the bathroom look as normal as possible. He changes into clean clothes, hiding his bloodstained suit in a laundry bag.
With a groan, he collapses onto the couch, completely exhausted.
Just as he is on the verge of falling asleep, the shrill ring of his cell phone shatters the silence. The sudden noise makes him jump, causing him to wince at the sharp pain in his shoulder. His hand trembles slightly as he answers the call, forcing his voice to sound calm despite the pain.
“Hello?”
There is no response at first, but Bamby can hear faint jazz music playing. It's one of Eunho’s favorite songs, the kind he always plays in his car during their late-night drives.
"Hello? Eunho?"
Eunho takes a deep breath before finally speaking. “Bamby, are you home yet?”
Bamby tries to sound casual, even though every move he makes sends waves of pain through his body. “Yeah, I’ve been home for about an hour.”
There is a pause, filled only with the soft jazz music. Eunho doesn’t say anything right away, making Bamby feel more and more uneasy. “Eunho? Is everything okay? Is there a problem at school?” he asks again.
On the other end of the line, Eunho tightens his grip on the phone. He's sitting in his car, holding the phone with one hand while clutching a small red velvet box with two rings inside with the other—his birthday gift for Bamby.
The sight of the rings and the thought of the surprise he has planned clash with the image of a pink-haired guy he has seen through his sniper scope earlier. Eunho's heart pounds as he remembers the shock. He has seen a man with bright pink hair through his scope—a person that looks just like his boyfriend.
It almost makes him lose focus and miss his shot.
How could his boyfriend have been there? Was it just a trick of the light, or is he mistaken?
Bamby’s voice cuts through Eunho’s disoriented thoughts. “Eunho? Are you still there?”
Eunho takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Yeah, I’m here,” he says, keeping his voice steady. “Have you made a reservation for dinner tomorrow?”
Bamby’s response is calm, despite the pain he is clearly feeling. “Yes, it’s set for 6 PM. Let’s meet there.”
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sure, see you then.”
As the call ends, Eunho sinks back into his seat, exhaustion weighing heavily on him. The mission has left him drained both physically and emotionally.
Earlier, through his scope, he saw a pink-haired civilian who looked just like his boyfriend. The image haunts him, making his thoughts swirl around like a storm he can’t escape. After taking down Marcus Lei and witnessing the ensuing chaos, Eunho had rushed to the building where his target had been. His only goal was to confirm whether the pink-haired person was indeed his boyfriend.
But he didn't have a chance to find out.
Instead, his waist was shot by a stray bullet
The stray bullet only grazes him, leaving a painful but not life-threatening wound that needs stitches. The pain from the open wound throbs with every beat of his heart, but It's the least of his worries.
Eunho knows he should either go to a hospital for proper care or take care of the wound himself—something he has done countless times in his decade-long career as an assassin. But he feels lost, like a ship caught in a storm of his own confusion and distress. The mission has left too many unanswered questions, and the image of ‘Bamby’ through his scope is the most troubling of all.
His thoughts are interrupted when his phone rings again. This time, the screen shows Yejun’s name. With a strained voice, he answers, “Blue, what’s the situation?”
Yejun’s voice comes through, calm yet urgent. “I’ve got some updates for you. I’ve managed to get the identities of the other players in the ballroom. One of them was an assassin sent from Caelum’s agency.”
“Caelum?”
“Yes,” Yejun confirms. “ There’s good news and bad news. Which one do you want to hear first?”
Eunho hesitates, the pain in his waist momentarily forgotten as he focuses on Yejun’s words. “Give me the good news first,” he says finally.
“The good news is that we managed to identify Peach.”
Eunho’s eyes widen in shock. “You identified Peach?”
“Yes,” Yejun says. “Before I tell you the bad news, I need you to come to headquarters now.”
Eunho’s heart sinks with worry. “Can’t you tell me now?” he pleads.
“No,” Yejun replies firmly. “You need to come to the headquarters right away.”
The call ends, and Eunho stares at his phone, feeling a knot of dread tighten in his chest.
The mission's aftermath leaves too many loose ends, too many shadows creeping into his mind. He can't afford to be distracted now. He has to find answers.
Bamby jolts awake again, his breath coming in ragged bursts. The abrupt sound of his cell phone ringing pierces through his exhausted haze. He blinks groggily, a dull ache in his shoulder pulling him out of his restless sleep.
The clock shows 1 AM. The day has changed; It's now July 15th, his birthday.
With a groan, Bamby pushes himself upright. He reaches for the painkillers on the coffee table, swallowing another pill dry. The persistent ache in his shoulder is relentless, but he has no choice but to push through.
The ringing on his phone earlier stops abruptly, leaving a heavy, uneasy silence. When he finally manages to reach his phone, he is greeted by a flood of notifications.
11 missed calls from Noah.
23 missed calls from Hamin.
41 unread messages.
He scans through the pile of unread messages, but there is no message or missed call from his boyfriend. The wall clock shows 1 AM, and It's now July 15th. Eunho usually sends him a birthday message the moment the clock strikes midnight, but tonight, there is nothing.
Something feels off.
Ever since Eunho called him two hours ago, he seemed distant and different. Bamby thinks his boyfriend is probably too tired from overtime work, but now he isn’t so sure.
Lost in thought, Bamby barely notices his phone ringing again. The sound finally breaks through his haze, and he sees Noah’s name on the screen.
“Why the hell didn’t you pick up my calls or Hamin’s? We’ve been worried sick!”
Bamby winces, the pain from his shoulder flaring up as he tries to sit up more comfortably. He normally prides himself on being a light sleeper, but exhaustion and the searing pain from his injury have dulled his senses.
“Sorry, I… fell asleep. I’m at the apartment now.”
There is a tense pause on the other end. Noah’s voice takes on a different tone. “Is your boyfriend at home?”
“No. He’s working overtime outside. Why?”
Noah’s next words are like a cold knife to his heart.
“Your boyfriend... you need to kill him immediately.”
Bamby’s heart races, his thoughts spinning wildly. He can barely process the meaning of those words. “What… what do you mean?”
“Wolf, the sniper from Asterum was successfully identified by Hamin last night. His identity is 100% confirmed as a man named Do Eunho.”
The revelation feels like a cruel joke, a horrifying twist of fate.
The world seems to tilt. Bamby’s ears ring as if he is underwater, the truth of Noah’s words crashing over him. The room spins, and for a moment, it feels like everything is just a cruel illusion, a dream from which he cannot wake.
His breathing quickens, tears welling up in his eyes. He presses his hands to his temples, trying to ground himself in reality.
But it's not a dream. The pain, the betrayal— It's all too real.
It feels like the earth has been pulled out from under him, leaving him floating in a void of shock and confusion. The ringing in his ears grows louder, drowning out everything else. He's paralyzed by disbelief, struggling to process the impossible truth.
Bamby touches the wound on his left shoulder; he can almost feel the contours of the bullet's entry wound. Then a chilling realization grips him.
This wound—the bullet that had torn through his flesh—was fired by Eunho, his lover.
Eunho, who turns out to be Wolf, the sniper from Asterum.
Eunho, the man who made promises, who shared dreams with him, has been living a lie.
A hollow laugh escapes Bamby’s lips, a sound of deep, aching madness. It starts as a weak chuckle, a desperate attempt to grasp the absurdity of it all. The laughter grows louder, more frantic, as if he is trying to drown out the overwhelming weight of the betrayal. Tears stream down his face as he squeezes his eyes shut, struggling to contain the flood of emotion.
The pain in his shoulder is nothing compared to the agony in his chest. He loves Eunho and trusts him completely. Now, that trust is shattered.
Five years. Five years of love and companionship. All of it has been a lie.
Now, everything makes sense. Eunho’s voice sounded different on the phone earlier. It wasn’t just fatigue; he is completing the same mission as Bamby. He must have realized that Bamby is Peach, just as Bamby has realized Eunho’s true identity.
Had Eunho known his true identity all along? Had he been pretending not to know?
Did Eunho ever truly love him?
Noah’s voice cuts through the haze of Bamby’s thoughts, delivering the final, crushing blow. “Our superiors ordered you to end Wolf’s life within 24 hours from now. They've given you the option to do it yourself. If you fail to complete the task, then our superiors will terminate the contract with you, and you too… will be executed.”
The words cut through Bamby’s despair, bringing him back to the harsh reality of his situation. The room seems to close in on him, the walls of the apartment that he and Eunho have shared for three years now feeling like a prison.
This is the place where he and Eunho have built their lives together, where they have shared so much. He sits in silence for a moment, his gaze wandering around the apartment. Every corner holds memories of Eunho. The kitchen where they have cooked meals together, the couch where they have watched movies, the bed where they have shared intimate moments.
Now, every corner of that apartment seems to mock him with the memory of what he thought they had.
Bamby’s eyes welled up with tears, one slipping down his right cheek. The love they have shared, the life they have built together—it all feels like a lie.
Then, with a bitter laugh, he wipes away the tears and speaks into the phone. “Mission accepted.”
The clock is ticking, and he knows he has no time to waste. He will find Eunho, and he will end this once and for all. The man who has betrayed him, who has shattered his heart, will pay. And whatever consequences follow, he will face them later.
Eunho sits quietly, staring at the folder on the table in front of him. Just fifteen minutes ago, his superior handed him an important folder. Inside are documents, photographs, and encrypted files about Peach's true identity.
The man Eunho cherishes, the one with whom he has shared his life— Chae Bonggu —is none other than Peach.
Eunho stands motionless in the now-empty room. The revelation is so overwhelming that he feels as though he is suffocating. The walls seem to be closing in on him, making the air thick and hard to inhale, as if reality itself is trying to choke him with the truth.
But he still can’t move from the spot.
The truth is clear. He sees the pink-haired figure through his sniper rifle, and even then, a part of him knows something is wrong. He tries to ignore the uneasy feeling, convincing himself It's just fatigue or a coincidence. But a part of him fears a darker truth, something he is too afraid to face.
Eunho can’t believe that the person he loves with his entire being is part of a dangerous game he has been unaware of. He stares at the folder on the table again, his mind spinning with what he has learned.
The room’s silence is broken by the soft click of the door opening. Yejun steps inside, his purplish-blue eyes narrowing in concern as he looks at the scene.
"Eunho, are you okay?"
Eunho’s response is mechanical, the word “Yes” feeling strange in his mouth, as if he were a puppet being controlled by unseen strings. He turns to leave, but Yejun’s hand grips his shoulder, stopping him.
“What are you planning to do now?” Yejun asks, his gaze softened with sympathy but also frustration.
Eunho looks at Yejun, his eyes showing a deep, raw pain. They are usually so clear and determined, but now they are clouded with confusion and anguish. He tries to speak, but the words seem stuck in his throat.
Yejun’s gaze shifts to Eunho’s waist, where a dark, spreading stain is seeping through his clothes. Shocked, Yejun touches the blood-soaked fabric. “Since when have you been shot?!”
Eunho looks down, as if noticing the wound for the first time. “During the mission. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter!” Yejun says firmly. “You’re in no condition to go after him like this.”
Yejun pulls Eunho’s arm, guiding him into another room. Eunho follows without resistance, too numb to protest. Yejun helps him into a chair and goes to get a first aid kit.
Eunho sits quietly, staring at the floor. He places a hand on his right side, feeling the warmth of blood seeping through his clothes. The wound isn’t a clean shot; It's a deep scratch from a bullet that has been bleeding for nearly two hours.
With shaking hands, he tries to open his leather jacket. As he fumbles with the jacket’s zipper, something falls from its pocket and lands on the floor with a soft thud. Eunho looks down and sees it—a small ring box.
His heart sinks as he recognizes it: the ring he bought for Bamby, meant as a birthday present and a proposal.
The sight of It's almost too much to bear.
The wall clock ticks softly, showing 2 AM. Today is July 15th— Bamby’s birthday.
A wave of guilt crashes over Eunho. He has forgotten to send a single birthday message to Bamby.
Instinctively, he reaches for his cellphone and opens the chat with his boyfriend. His fingers hover over the screen, but as he scrolls through their messages, reality hits him like a punch to the gut.
He is not supposed to contact ‘his boyfriend’ at all.
Bamby is Peach—the very person Eunho has been ordered to eliminate today. The man he loves is his target, and he is supposed to end his life on his birthday.
The realization leaves Eunho gasping for breath. His head throbs, and panic surges through him. His breaths come in short, ragged gasps, and the room begins to spin around him. His vision blurs, and a wave of nausea rises in his stomach.
Without a word, Eunho runs from the room, his steps unsteady as he stumbles toward the bathroom. He barely hears Yejun’s surprised shout behind him. The bathroom is a bit far, but Eunho reaches the closet just in time, doubling over as his stomach heaves violently.
The sound of his retching fills the bathroom, a harsh, guttural noise that echoes off the tiles. Eunho grips the edge tightly, his knuckles white as he struggles to keep himself steady. The room feels like It's spinning faster and faster, a dizzying whirl of light and shadow. Sweat pours down his face, mixing with the tears streaming from his eyes.
As the nausea finally begins to ease, Eunho slumps against the bathroom wall. He looks at his reflection in the mirror—a ghostly figure staring back at him. His eyes are hollow, filled with a deep, empty despair.
It's hard to breathe, and he feels as though his entire world is collapsing around him.
There is no turning back now. He's an assassin, and his duty comes first.
Even if it means losing everything he holds dear.
Bamby sits on the sofa, his fingers brushing against his Beretta M9 gun tucked securely behind his waist. The morning sun streams in through the window, casting long, sharp shadows across the room. Fourteen agonizing hours have passed since he learned the devastating truth, and he hasn’t moved an inch. The silence in the apartment is overwhelming, broken only by the constant ticking of the clock.
He waits anxiously for Eunho to return home.
He knows, just as he has been, Eunho is likely given the same task: to end his life.
It's a cruel twist of fate that their last mission is to kill each other.
The clock seems to tick louder with each passing second, a harsh reminder of the doom that looms. After what feels like an eternity, Bamby finally pushes himself off the couch.
Tonight is supposed to be a celebration—a dinner at the restaurant he has reserved for his own birthday. Despite the pain and the looming threat, he is determined to make it through the evening.
The drive to the restaurant is a blur of darkened streets and city lights. When he arrives, he sees Eunho already seated at their reserved table, dressed in a dark gray suit. The sight of his lover— his enemy now —stirs a storm of emotions within him. Eunho appears composed and unaffected, as if nothing has changed between them, as if they are still lovers.
The moment Bamby comes into view, Eunho's eyes lock onto him. They take their seats at the table, Eunho’s gaze lingering on Bamby’s navy suit and the noticeable absence of his round glasses.
To him, Bamby is as harmless as a daffodil in spring.
But Eunho knows the Bamby before him has changed completely, shedding his old self like a snake shedding its skin, revealing his true self—as an enemy who has disrupted many of Eunho’s plans over the years.
This isn’t the same Bamby who once struggles with opening a jar of pickles, who avoids bitter coffee and sour foods, who fears thunderstorms, dislikes winter, and catches colds with the changing seasons.
The silence between them is heavy, made worse by the clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of other diners. It feels like the universe is also mocking them.
Bamby is the first to break the silence between them. “So, are you going to wish me a happy birthday or not?”
Eunho's eyes narrow slightly, and he forces a tight, insincere smile. “Happy birthday,” he says, his tone flat and lacking warmth.
Bamby’s lips curl into a mocking smile. “Is that all? I was expecting a bit more warmth from you.”
Eunho's eyes flash with irritation, but his composure remains intact. “Should I prepare a heartfelt speech for my soon-to-be-dead lover?”
The waiter comes to their table, placing two menus in front of them before retreating. Bamby glances at the menu but makes no move to open it. His appetite has vanished, replaced by a gnawing emptiness that has nothing to do with food. His fingers drum lightly on the polished table, a rhythmic beat that echoes his anxious heartbeat.
“You know, Eunho,” he says finally. “It’s almost poetic that after everything, we’re here—pretending to be normal, pretending everything is okay while we both know the truth.”
Eunho's expression hardens, his moment of vulnerability slipping away like sand through fingers. “Yeah, I wonder if we’ve ever really known each other at all.”
Bamby’s smile takes on a sly edge, his lips curving in a way that contrasts with the coldness in his eyes. "Alright then," he says with a chilling calm. "Let’s just settle this at the apartment. I’ll be waiting for you, an hour from now."
As the other man turns to leave, Eunho’s voice stops him. “Before you go,” he says softly, almost hesitantly, “there’s a dance floor in the ballroom next to this restaurant. Will you dance with me one last time?”
Bamby hesitates, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “You want to dance? Really?”
“Yes, for old times' sake. Will you?”
“Fine, let’s dance.”
They walk through a set of grand double doors into the ballroom. The space is majestic, with shimmering crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, their light casting a warm, golden glow over everything below. The soft, melodic strains of a waltz fill the air, creating a surprisingly romantic atmosphere for their final moments together.
On the polished marble floor, Eunho places his hand gently on Bamby’s waist, drawing him close. The familiar warmth of Eunho’s touch, once a comfort, now feels like a painful reminder of their past. Bamby rests his hand on Eunho’s shoulder, his fingers clutching the fabric of his suit jacket.
As they begin to sway to the music, their bodies move in harmony, yet their hearts seem miles apart. Bamby’s fingers lightly trace the outline of Eunho’s chest, a gesture that feels both intimate and ironic given the sharpness of their words. “Tell me, darling,” he whispers, his breath warm against Eunho’s ear, “where has the real you been hiding all these years?”
Eunho’s jaw tightens, and his eyes darken as he holds Bamby closer, their chests nearly touching. “You really want to know? Maybe you should think back to our time together, darling.”
Bamby lets out a short, mocking laugh, the sound blending with the music. “How did you manage to keep up the act for so long? Pretending to be someone else must be disgusting for you. Acting like you cared.”
Eunho spins Bamby gracefully, his movements elegant despite the tension simmering beneath. As he pulls the shorter man back into his embrace, he leans in close, their faces inches apart. “You know, baby. It wasn’t all an act. Not entirely.”
Bamby searches Eunho’s eyes, hoping to glimpse the truth. But all he sees is the same mask that has kept them apart for so long. “So, what was real then? Was any of it real?”
Eunho’s chest tightens with the urge to reveal his true feelings, to tell Bamby that despite the façade, his love has always been genuine. He wants to tear down the walls they have built, to show the truth hidden behind years of deceit.
But the words remain stuck in his throat. Instead, he responds with another sarcastic remark. “I guess you’ll never know, will you?”
As they twirl around the dance floor, their steps synchronized in an intricate pattern, Eunho leans in close again. “Indeed. I remember our little ‘incidents’ during missions. You’d be surprised how often I am nearly sabotaged by an unknown sniper. And now I find out it’s you all along, Peach.”
Bamby’s eyes sparkle with dark amusement as he leans in closer, his breath brushing against Eunho’s neck. “Oh, don’t fucking remind me,” he whispers sharply. “Like the time you nearly blew my cover at that gala, all because you decided to take a shot at an ‘unidentified’ target.”
“How many times do we end up ruining each other’s plans without even knowing it?” Bamby continues sharply, his fingers digging into Eunho’s shoulder. “Or during that time in Las Vegas, when your brilliant idea to blow up the bridge nearly gets civilians killed?”
“Las Vegas? You’re the one who set off the alarm at the museum, turning a simple job into a complete disaster. Do you know how close I came to being caught because of you? I spend weeks planning that operation, and you mess it up in minutes,” Eunho shoots back, his voice low but fierce. “At least I don’t leave a trail of bodies everywhere I go. Your way of eliminating your target is always so… messy and disgusting.”
“Messy? That’s rich, coming from you,” Bamby replies sarcastically. “The opera house, the auction in Paris, and don’t forget the yacht party in Monte Carlo. You always seem to be just a step behind me, or rather, a step ahead. Quite the impressive rival.”
Eunho chuckles, though It's more bitter than amused. “Impressive, you say? I suppose It's inevitable that our paths would cross. We are both skilled at what we do. Too bad it leads us here, where our final mission is to kill each other.”
The waltz reaches its crescendo, the melodies rising and falling like waves crashing against the shore. Above them, the crystal chandeliers hang like clusters of stars, their light scattering across the ballroom’s smooth marble floor. They move seamlessly across the dance floor, their bodies moving in perfect harmony.
Eunho’s hands are firmly wrapped around Bamby’s waist, pulling him even closer with a grip that is both confident and possessive. In response, Bamby drapes his arms around Eunho’s neck, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
From a distance, it looks like they are about to kiss, their faces so, so close that the slightest movement could bring their lips together.
Eunho’s nose brushes against Bamby’s cheek, a touch so close and intimate that it makes both of them shiver. Bamby tightens his embrace, their bodies aligning perfectly, as if they are meant to be this close.
The rhythm of their dance becomes a wordless conversation, filled with emotions they can’t speak out loud. Eunho’s eyes search for Bamby's, looking for a glimpse of the man he once loved beneath the cold exterior. Bamby’s eyes, however, remain cold, a sharp contrast to the warmth of their embrace.
In a voice that is barely above a whisper, Bamby says finally, “One of us is going to die tonight.”
Eunho’s heart skips a beat at the blunt declaration, but he maintains his composure. “So it’s come to this,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against Bamby’s ear, sending a shiver through both of them.
With a final, almost tender touch, Bamby gently pushes Eunho away. The separation feels like a sharp blow, the warmth of their closeness replaced by a cold distance. Bamby takes a moment to adjust Eunho’s bow tie, his hands moving with careful precision. He smooths out the fabric of Eunho’s suit jacket, his fingers lingering just a bit longer than necessary before stepping back.
A faint, mocking smile plays at the corners of his lips as he finishes adjusting Eunho’s attire. “See you at home, darling.”
With that, Bamby walks away, leaving Eunho standing alone on the dance floor, the music now a distant, fading whisper.
Eunho's heart twists painfully with each beat as he parks his car in front of their apartment building. The love he still feels for Bamby is a cruel irony, considering that Bamby has tried—and will try again—to end his life tonight.
The night air feels cold against his skin, but he barely notices. He glances at the simple necklace around his neck, which holds two rings—a birthday present for Bamby and a proposal he hoped would mean forever. Beneath his coat, the weight of the fully loaded RP9 gun feels like a grim reminder of what is about to happen.
He enters their apartment with a steady hand, using their anniversary date as the password. The familiar beep is followed by a heavy silence. Locking the door behind him, his gaze sharpens as he assesses his surroundings.
There, leaning on the kitchen counter, is his boyfriend—or rather, his enemy—casually swirling a glass of wine. Eunho’s voice cuts through the silence with a mocking tone. “Well, look who’s been waiting for me. Miss me, darling?”
Bamby sets his wine glass down with a deliberate clink and, without hesitation, grabs a kitchen knife. With a flick of his wrist, he throws it towards Eunho. The knife flies straight, hitting the back door with a loud thud, missing the target by inches.
Eunho’s lips curve into a wry smile. “Oh, finally, I get to see Peach in action.”
The two men face each other, their eyes locked in a fierce stare. Bamby draws his Beretta M9 and fires. The first bullet shatters Eunho’s treasured wine bottle, sending glass and red liquid splattering everywhere. Years of collecting those bottles now come to ruin. Bamby fires again and again, targeting each bottle with ruthless precision until none remain. Their living room begins to fill with a dark, crimson pool of spilled wine.
“You bastard! Don't you know how expensive that wine collection is?!” Eunho shouts angrily. He fires back, his shots deliberately missing, just close enough to make Bamby flinch but never actually hitting him.
Both men have attached silencers to their guns, ensuring their neighbors remain blissfully unaware of the chaos inside. Eunho turns his attention to Bamby’s cherished Monstera plant collection. He aims carefully and fires, each shot destroying his boyfriend’s beloved plant.
The sound of Bamby’s enraged shout fills the room. “You son of a bitch! My plants!”
The room explodes into chaos. Bullets whiz, objects shatter, and furniture is torn apart. A bullet destroys a photo frame near the TV, scattering pieces of their vacation picture in Tokyo. Bamby’s rage reaches a peak. With a furious shout, he throws his gun to the floor and throws his fist at Eunho.
Eunho ducks the first punch but can’t avoid the second one that lands hard on his jaw. Pain explodes in his skull. He retaliates with a punch to Bamby’s ribs, twisting his arm behind his back and shoving him against the counter. Bamby groans but manages to slam his elbow into Eunho’s ribs, breaking free.
They circle each other, eyes locked in a deadly dance. Bamby feints left, then lunges right, aiming a kick at Eunho’s midsection. Eunho catches Bamby’s leg and sweeps his other leg out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor. They clash again, their punches and kicks a brutal blur of motion. Eunho’s fist slams into Bamby’s jaw, making him stagger. Bamby retaliates with a vicious uppercut, snapping Eunho’s head back. Blood drips from Eunho’s split lip as he spits out a curse, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Eunho grabs a nearby chair and swings it at Bamby, who ducks just in time. The chair shatters against the wall, sending splinters flying. Bamby tackles Eunho, slamming him onto the dining table. The table groans under their weight, plates and glasses clattering to the floor. Eunho’s hands tighten around Bamby’s throat, squeezing with desperate strength. Bamby manages to bring his knee up into Eunho’s waist, forcing him to release his grip.
Eunho lunges forward again, twisting Bamby’s arm behind his back and slamming him against the wall. Bamby gasps for breath, his face scrunched in pain as he tries to break free. Eunho’s grip tightens as he hisses harshly into Bamby’s ear, “Why? Why did it have to come to this?”
Bamby’s voice comes out in a ragged, strained laugh. “Maybe because this was always meant to happen, Eunho.”
The words hit Eunho like a punch to the gut, causing his grip to loosen slightly. Bamby seizes the chance to twist free, spinning around and delivering a swift punch to Eunho’s gut. Eunho bends over, struggling to catch his breath, but he quickly recovers. In a fierce move, he grabs Bamby by the collar and headbutts him with brutal force. The clash of their heads leaves them both stunned, blood trickling from their cuts and mixing with the sweat on their faces.
Bamby wipes the blood from his nose, his eyes blazing with determination. He lunges at Eunho, tackling him to the floor. They roll around, each one fighting hard to gain the upper hand. Eunho’s fingers dig into Bamby’s cheeks, trying to push him away, but Bamby bites down on Eunho’s hand, drawing blood. Eunho grunts in pain and pulls away, rolling to the side to catch his breath.
They stand up again, both of them breathing heavily, their bodies smeared with blood. The apartment has turned into a battleground, littered with the remnants of their violent struggle. Eunho’s face is a mess of pain, his temples cut and his lips swollen and streaked with blood. Bamby looks equally messed up, with blood running from his nose and staining his pale skin.
Eunho’s fingers shake slightly as he undoes the buttons of his shirt, revealing bruised skin underneath. The cool air of the room brushes against his exposed skin, causing him to shiver slightly. Despite this, he stares directly at Bamby, trying not to show any weakness.
Bamby’s eyes blaze with anger, but there is something more beneath the rage, hurt or perhaps lingering affection underneath. His gaze drops to the kitchen knife lying on the floor. He snatches it up quickly, the dim light glinting off the blade as he points it menacingly at Eunho’s neck.
But Eunho is faster. He catches the knife with his bare hand, the blade slicing into his palm. Blood begins to pool and drip from his wound, staining the floor beneath them.
Despite the pain, he doesn’t flinch.
Bamby pushes the knife closer to his neck, the blade dangerously close to breaking the skin. Eunho grits his teeth, feeling the burn as the knife cuts deeper into his palm. Bamby’s face twists with frustration and desperation as he pushes harder, trying to overcome Eunho's strength.
With a sudden burst of strength, Eunho twists Bamby's wrist, making a swift and precise movement. Bamby gasps in pain, his grip on the knife weakening. The blade clatters to the floor with a loud clang, and Bamby staggers back, clutching his wrist.
Their breaths are fast and uneven, but the fight isn’t over. If anything, it has reached a new level. Bamby, recovering quickly, grabs his Beretta M9 from the floor and aims it at Eunho’s temple. At the same time, Eunho raises his RP9 to Bamby’s neck, the cold metal pressing against his skin.
Eunho’s lips, smeared with blood, curve into a mocking smile. “Which bullet do you think will be faster, darling?”
Bamby’s eyes narrow, a smirk playing on his bruised lips. "Yours is pointed at my neck. Mine is at your head. It’s pretty clear who’s going to die first, right?”
For a few breathless moments, they stand frozen, staring at each other. The air is thick with tension, so much so that it feels hard to breathe. Eunho’s fierce eyes soften as he takes in the sight of his boyfriend—Bamby’s pink hair is a wild mess, his lips are swollen, and his face is streaked with blood and bruises.
Despite the chaos, Bamby still looks more beautiful than ever.
He wishes he could freeze this moment in time, to remember Bamby just as he is now, despite the pain and chaos surrounding them.
Slowly, Eunho lets his gun slip from his fingers. The metallic clang as it hits the floor echoes softly through the ruined apartment. “Go ahead and shoot me,” he says calmly, his smile remaining steady as he adds, “You could end this right now. Just one pull of the trigger, and it’s over.”
Eunho closes his eyes, letting the storm of the present moment drift away as he loses himself in the memories of the past five years with Bamby.
He remembers Bamby’s laughter—how his nose crinkles when he finds something amusing, and the way his eyes sparkle with mischief and warmth. He recalls the gentle moments they share, like when Bamby’s fingers lightly trace patterns on his back as they lie together in bed. He thinks about how Bamby looks at him with trust and affection, his small habits that make Eunho smile—like leaving socks in odd places, singing loudly in the shower, or curling up next to him on the couch with a book.
Whether these habits are part of Bamby’s true self or a disguise doesn’t matter. Eunho cherishes them all the same. They have become a part of his life, and he has no regrets about loving Bamby through and through, in whatever shape he presents himself.
Eunho opens his eyes, staring straight into his lover again. “You once asked me where the real me is hiding,” he begins. “The truth is—I am never hiding. The last five years with you have been the most real part of my life. They have always been the real me.”
His gaze softens as he continues, “I have no regrets. Loving you, in whatever form you are, is worth every moment.”
And with those words, Eunho surrenders, completely.
Eunho braces himself for the bullet, expecting it any second.
But it never comes.
Instead, he sees Bamby’s hands trembling so much that he has to shut his eyes tightly to steady himself.
Suddenly, the gun also slips from Bamby’s fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
Without hesitation, Bamby grabs Eunho by the collar and pulls him into a fierce, passionate kiss. Their lips crash together with an urgent need, the taste of blood mixing between them—a sharp reminder of the violence that has just passed. Eunho can’t tell if the blood is his, Bamby’s, or a mixture of both.
The kiss is wild, full of a hunger that sharply contrasts with their recent fight. Bamby’s hands grip Eunho’s hair tightly, pulling him closer, as if trying to merge their pain and desire into one. Eunho responds with the same rhythm, his hands roaming Bamby’s back, feeling the tension in his muscles and the shudders coursing through his body. One of his hands tightens around Bamby’s waist, drawing him even closer as their kiss deepens. He can taste the bitterness of their struggles, the sweetness of unsaid words, and the fiery passion that has always simmered between them.
Bamby’s breath hitches, a soft moan escaping his lips as he presses closer to Eunho. His fingers dig into Eunho’s shoulders, his nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. The pain is a welcome reminder of their shared reality, grounding them in the present. Then he pulls back just enough to whisper harshly, “I hate you, Do Eunho.”
“You’re such an idiot,” Bamby curses between kisses, his voice trembling. “Fucking hypocrites.”
His words are sharp, dripping with venom and sarcasm, but the way his body melts into Eunho's kiss tells a different story.
“Yeah, let’s talk about how hypocritical we both are while we’re at it,” Eunho growls, his voice low as he nuzzles Bamby’s neck. He feels Bamby’s hands moving urgently, the fabric of Eunho’s shirt straining and tearing under his touch. Eunho’s hands are equally impatient, pulling at the other’s clothes with a desperate need.
The buttons of Bamby’s shirt scatter first across the floor, revealing the bandage on his left shoulder. Eunho notices the blood seeping through, the wound likely reopened, but Bamby doesn’t seem to care about it.
Eunho’s hands roam everywhere, exploring, caressing, gripping with fervor. With sudden energy, he lifts Bamby, holding him against his chest like a fragile, wounded treasure. Bamby wraps his legs around Eunho like a koala, clinging tightly as they move through the wreckage of the living room and kitchen.
The path they take is evidence to their earlier fight—broken furniture, shattered glass, and splintered wood scattered around. Yet, between the chaos, they find their way to the bedroom, the only place untouched by the destruction.
Eunho gently lays Bamby on the bed, hovering over him with an intense gaze. Bamby’s hands work quickly, unbuttoning Eunho’s pants with trembling fingers. Eunho mirrors his actions, their movements rough and hurried. Clothes are tossed aside carelessly, revealing their bruised and battered bodies.
Eunho’s hand slides down Bamby’s thigh, pulling him closer. His gaze falls once again on the bandage, now more noticeably soaked with blood. “You’re hurt,” he murmurs, but Bamby silences him with another intense kiss, their bodies pressing together.
Bamby’s eyes narrow, a mix of anger and exhaustion flashing in the dim light of the room. “You’re really playing the concerned lover now, aren’t you?” he hisses. “As if you didn’t shoot me yesterday.”
Eunho’s lips curl into a smirk, his hands roaming over Bamby's body, exploring every inch of bruised and battered skin with a fervent hunger. His fingers trace the outline of Bamby's ribs, the curve of his hip, the dip of his spine. “And you shot me in the waist. I’d say we’re pretty much even now.”
Despite the blood and bruises that coat their skin, they are oblivious to anything but the overwhelming lust and anger that fuel their actions. Eunho's mouth leaves a trail of kisses and bites down Bamby's neck, his nipple, down to his stomach.
Their words are filled with venom, but their actions speak of a different kind of intensity.
Eunho's hand slips between them, finding Bamby's erection and wrapping his fingers around it with a firm grip. Bamby whimpers softly, his body arching into the touch as the thumb traces along with the tip of his already half-hard cock.
Bamby watches as Eunho fumbles for a moment before pulling out a small bottle of lube and a condom from the nightstand. The sight sends a shiver through him, a mix of anticipation and desire as the taller man quickly pours the lube into his fingers.
Bamby inhales another shuddering breath, biting his lips hard while he watches helplessly how Eunho squeezed the base of his erection again and held his hips down. Those fingers trail down again, fingertips brushing over the sensitive thigh, then Bamby feels himself arching up once more when the soft pad of a finger finds his opening hole. His eyes snap open and wide as Eunho gently traces circles around that ring—caressing the soft muscles over and over, teasing him open with careful pushes and strokes that leaves him with a tingling and familiar sensation.
The gentle circular motion melts into the barest of pressures. Bamby’s whole body tensing, mouth hanging open and he lets out a tiny whimper as Eunho’s thick finger pushes into him ever so slowly, breaching past tense muscles. It keeps going until the last knuckle, finger moving in a slow back and forth as it fully sinks into him.
Thoughts crumble, toes curled tight, hard, and now Bamby is shivering, he can hear his own breathing getting heavier. The shattering pleasure finally shows its roots as Eunho pulls back only for a second finger to push alongside the first, digging into the tight clench of his hole. Bamby’s breath caught, his body arching into the touch, and his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as he savored the feeling of those thick, long fingers sliding in and out in firm pushes with delicious stretch.
Eunho wishes to take Bamby apart slowly and to stretch him open with proper, unhurried care. It seems like he is alone on that one, though. The man underneath him becomes more and more impatient with every move of his two fingers, letting out one moan after another as Eunho manages to fit in a third finger easily. Bamby whimpers again when Eunho explores his inside thoroughly, making him throw his head back and exposing his neck. Eunho takes quick advantage of that, sucking hard and biting down, turning the man underneath him into an incoherent mess.
“H-hah, nhhh, hurry, you’re so fucking slow…” Bamby hissed, his voice trembling with frustration. "I'm… ah, I’m going to kill y-you—nghh!"
Eunho chuckled darkly, his fingers still thrusting fast and hard, curling them just right to the spot, fucking him roughly and stretching him open until there’s room to shove in a fourth.
"Earlier, I gave you the chance to shoot my head, but you’re not brave enough to do it, darling,” he said with a low voice.
Every single one of Bamby’s nerves is now on edge by the time Eunho manages to fit in his fingers, and he’s panting and glaring up at the man above him. He pulls his legs up without hesitation, blushing a little as he exposes himself in the most intimate way. He feels so full, body wracked with pleasure, and it doesn't take much after that to make him come hard, wetting his stomach with a thick splatter of white.
Bamby whimpers, his thighs shaking from the tension. His ruined shirt sticks to him and he feels feverish, feels crazy. The fingers inside him are still moving slow and steady, like something inevitable. His voice breaks with each shuddering breath, “Angh— fuck you, Do Eunho,” he breathes out.
The desire between them grew heavier, a desperate need to feel each other fully.
Eunho’s response was a low, satisfied hum. “Already doing it, darling.” Then his fingers were slipping out, then lifting one of Bamby's thighs onto his shoulder.
Bamby takes deep breaths as he resists the desire to shift or squirm, knowing those strong arms hold his hips hostage as Eunho continues to nuzzle his temple and nibbles lazily on his ear. Kisses return to his skin, first at his shoulder, then his neck that has him limp and breathless.
Bamby opens his eyes and sees Eunho rips the condom open with his teeth then pushes his boxer down, his big cock slipping free already glistening damp and all hard.
The sight is always familiar to him. Bamby has seen it dozens of times already.
In no time, the man is guiding the condom-wrapped cockhead into his hole. The tip nudges in, parting his hole and Bamby feels the world around him dissolve. The head is squeezing past his ring, stretching and forcing it open wide, wider, fuller than the fingers earlier.
Pleasure curls in his gut as Eunho pushes in sliding in little by little, slowly, purposefully teasing, both hands on Bamby’s hips and fingertips digging in.
It’s so hot, so tight as Eunho sinks deeper into him.
They both sigh, drinking in the feel and scent of each other’s closeness. Bamby moans low on an exhaled breath, inhaling again as Eunho starts to pull out and roll his hips up. There’s no recovering time before the man is now pounding into him, deep and hard. Bamby grips the sheet tight with both hands, wrapping his legs around Eunho’s hips as the man above him finally finds a pace and starts to thrust into him.
Bamby lost count of how many times he had Eunho pounding his hole like this, using him without pause or mercy, and yet his ass doesn’t seem capable of getting used to the big size of that cock, balls-deep inside him, always making him feel like he’s just one rough thrust away from spitting in half.
But that’s a pain that soon melts into pleasure.
“M-ngh… hhh…ah…” Bamby moans, his fingers digging into the bedsheet, his moans echo throughout the entire room and blend in with the pornographic sound of Eunho’s balls slapping against his ass. Eunho uses his strength to pin his arms down so Bamby could stop moving while he’s being fucked.
The bed creaks softly underneath them and Bamby feels dazed, drunk, and so, so full.
He can feel Eunho deep inside, pressing into his gut, and causing a wet sound, an audible shlick… shlick… shlick, a whole mess of liquids.
“Nghh.. ah, Eunho—angh..”
It’s so much… so numbly good.
So much delightful.
And Bamby doesn’t think he was made to take so much pleasure without crumbling; he can barely think straight even when Eunho is not fucking him until he sees stars, getting consumed by the memories of him doing these things.
Bamby is long past sanity at this point. His voice is also starting to sound more wrecked than it had before, which was not surprising since he has been moaning nonstop ever since Eunho had first got his fingers inside him. A violent shudder courses through his body as Eunho's hips continue its relentless pace, moving with an easy squelch , thrusting against him in a way that leaves no room for doubt about their need for each other.
Eunho’s hands are gripping bruises into the pale skin of Bamby’s hips, and he loves it. Eunho wants every inch of his boyfriend’s body to be covered in reminders of this, reminders that he is the one capable of wrecking him and pushing Bamby over the edge like no other people ever could.
Bamby's hands are no less demanding, clawing at Eunho's back, his nails leaving red streaks in their wake. He tugs at Eunho's hair, pulling him back up for another kiss, their lips crashing together with bruising force. Their tongues battled for dominance, the taste of copper and salt mixing in their mouths.
"H-hah, you are… anghh—hah, still an idiot," he whispers against Eunho's lips, his voice laced with both anger and desire.
Eunho's response was a low growl, his teeth nipping at Bamby's lower lip. "And you're, h-hahh, a stubborn bastard."
The familiar burn of ecstasy built inside him as Eunho quickened his pace, arousal coursing through his veins. A shameless moan fell carelessly from their mouth when Eunho lifted his hips to thrust back in a better angle.
Eunho’s cock always feels big inside him, a tight hot pressure that spreads his walls open and fills him until Bamby feels like he’s going to break, gasping, breathless, finding that sweet spot that makes him see stars. Makes him all loose and messy inside.
With a final, desperate kiss, Eunho thrusts faster, harder, pushing his lover closer and closer to the edge. Bamby’s arms are shaking, his toes curl and his nails dig into the pillowcase as he clenches down hard on Eunho’s cock and his hips bucked against him, desperately chasing that sweet release, that sweet shiver of relief.
Bamby feels wrecked. He can’t think at all. It feels like he’s gonna explode from being too much. His body arching up, twitching, his brain all muddled—like nothing he has ever felt before, good, he feels so good.
Pain sparks through him, his vision blurs his lower stomach pulling tight and thrumming with so, so much pleasure—
Body arching and quivering, Bamby’s mouth falls open to a voiceless cry and he finally comes. His toes curling, legs trembling around Eunho’s waist, squirming and shaking. His body seizes, muscles spasming with unbearable ecstasy.
Eunho’s breath comes in ragged gasps. He sinks all the way in the next thrust and he can feel his own cock pulsing, twitching deep, deep inside of him. Pleasurable shocks run through his body when Eunho comes with a low, throaty groan, teeth gritting as Bamby’s body effectively milks his climax out of him.
Tears squeeze out of the corners of Bamby’s eyes as he pants, letting Eunho work his almost unbearably oversensitive body through their orgasms. Bamby’s final cry was one of both pleasure and agony, a raw, primal sound that seemed to echo in the stillness that followed.
The tide finally relents after a long pause.
Aftershocks ride his spine, making it all soft.
The world sways and hazes out of focus. As the aftershocks of their shared orgasm subside, Bamby’s strength gives out. Exhaustion seeps in, and he can barely keep his eyes open. A faint sigh escapes his lips before he falls into unconsciousness.
Eunho, still trembling from their intense sex, looks down at the man beneath him. The sight of Bamby, vulnerable and unresponsive, stirs a mix of emotions in his chest. He gently pulls out his softened cock, careful not to cause any more discomfort to the unconscious man beneath him.
For a moment, Eunho simply stares at Bamby, taking in the sight of him. The harsh lines of their argument have softened into something almost peaceful in his unconscious state. Bamby’s lips are slightly parted, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. The sweat on his skin glistens in the dim light, highlighting the bruises and scratches that mark his body.
Eunho's hand moves instinctively to brush a lock of hair away from Bamby's forehead. “Stubborn idiot,” he whispers softly.
The warmth of Bamby’s body against his own is a comfort, a reminder that despite everything, they are still here, still together.
Bamby’s eyes flutter open slowly, his gaze locking onto the ceiling. Confusion clouds his mind as he tries to piece together where he is and what has happened. Every part of his body aches; the gunshot wound in his shoulder throbs painfully, his waist feels like It's on fire, and a throbbing headache pounds relentlessly behind his eyes. He could have sworn he has been asleep for ages, but a quick glance at the window reveals that the sky outside is still shrouded in darkness.
The clock reads two in the morning.
A fleeting moment of calm washes over him, but then reality hits him like a cold splash of water. With a gasp of pain, he tries to sit up, only to wince as his shoulder protests sharply.
He remembers the mission.
He has been given twenty-four hours to kill Eunho, and now, only one hour remains.
Panic surges through him. He glances around the room, his eyes landing on their shared bedroom, now eerily familiar in its quiet chaos.
To his surprise, he notices he is dressed in Kirby-patterned pajamas. His body feels clean, the blood and sweat of their earlier fight washed away. He glances at the clock again, trying to make sense of how much time has passed.
Struggling to his feet, Bamby feels a wobbly weakness in his legs. He grabs onto the wall for support and makes his way to the door with careful, unsteady steps. As he passes a mirror, he catches a glimpse of his reflection. His face is clean, a peach-patterned plaster covering a cut on his temple. The corner of his lip, which had been bleeding, is now treated. The bandage on his left shoulder is fresh, replaced with a new one.
His thoughts race as he wonders about Eunho’s whereabouts.
Bamby’s heart pounds as he steps out of the bedroom and makes his way to the living room. The aftermath of their violent fight is still there. Wine from Eunho’s collection has spilled across the floor, shards of glass and wood scattered everywhere. Their TV is punctured by bullets, his Monstera plant collection is destroyed, and the sofa lies in ruins.
The room looks like a scene from a disaster movie.
Then, he sees Eunho in the kitchen. That man is cooking and pouring something like soup into a bowl. Eunho turns and smiles at him, looking surprisingly composed. He wears a black t-shirt and grey jeans, an apron tied around his waist, and an AK47 gun slung casually over his shoulder as if preparing for war.
"Don't step in here," Eunho calls out with a calm voice. "There’s broken glass everywhere. Just wait in the bedroom. I’ll join you in a minute.”
Bamby furrows his brows but obeys, returning to the bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed, his mind racing to piece together what has happened. Soon enough, Eunho enters the room carrying a tray filled with two bowls of seaweed soup, fried eggs, sausages, kimchi, two pieces of heated instant rice, two bottles of water, and a bottle of medicine that Bamby guesses are painkillers.
Eunho places the tray on the small table beside the bed and hands Bamby a spoon. Bamby only stares at the seaweed soup, lost in thought, unable to muster the words to speak.
“I’m not poisoning you, you know,” Eunho says, attempting to lighten the mood. “It’s just seaweed soup.”
Bamby’s eyes meet Eunho’s, and he responds quietly, “I know you wouldn’t dare to poison me. If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it while I was asleep.”
Eunho smiles faintly. “You have a point.”
“But why seaweed soup?”
“Because yesterday was your birthday. Did you forget?”
Bamby massages his forehead, feeling the tension of events that have overshadowed his birthday yesterday. Eunho opens the bottle of painkillers and hands him a pill. Without thinking, Bamby takes it and swallows it dry, ignoring the bottle of water beside him.
Eunho’s eyes widen in surprise. "I've never seen you swallow it dry like that. Usually, you whine and need at least solid food to swallow a pill."
Bamby glances at him with a tired smile. “Guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
Eunho’s smile softens, a genuine one this time. “I suppose so.”
After finishing their meal, Bamby and Eunho sit in silence. The room is filled only with the soft hum of the air conditioner and the distant sounds of the city outside. Bamby stares at the empty plates and bowls, wanting to speak, to break the heavy tension that lingers between them, but the words remain just out of reach.
Eunho, too, seems lost in his thoughts. His posture is slumped, his eyes fixed on the floor as if searching for answers there.
The silence between them is heavy, filled with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. They tried to kill each other last night, then made up, had mind-blowing sex, and now they are trying to return to their usual normal life as if nothing has happened.
Bamby’s heart aches as he looks at Eunho. The man who has been his enemy just hours before now sits before him. Now, his heart aches with the weight of his own guilt.
He really doesn’t deserve Eunho.
Eunho decided to drop his gun and not kill him yesterday, despite everything. The memory of that moment flashes in his mind, the look of determination and vulnerability on Eunho’s face as he made that decision.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Bamby takes a deep breath, summoning the courage to break the silence. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, his voice trembling slightly.
At the same moment, Eunho also says the same thing. “I’m sorry.”
They both stop, their eyes locking in surprise. Then, a soft chuckle escapes them, a shared moment of relief as the tension between them seems to dissipate.
“You first,” Eunho says, gesturing with his hand.
Bamby shakes his head. “No, you go.”
Eunho is the first to speak again. “I guess we both have a lot to apologize for.”
Bamby nods, his fingers absently tracing the edge of the empty bowl in front of him. “Yeah, we do.”
Eunho sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Alright. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything—the fight, the harsh words, for almost killing you. I was angry and hurt, and I took it all out on you. I don’t even know why I let it get so far.”
Bamby shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’m just as much to blame. I... I felt the same way. Angry, hurt, betrayed. But you... you dropped your gun. You chose not to kill me. And I... I didn’t.”
Eunho reaches across the table, his hand covering Bamby’s. “Hey, we’re both still here, right? That has to count for something.”
Bamby looks up, his eyes meeting Eunho’s. The sincerity in those red eyes makes his heart ache even more. “I don’t deserve you, Eunho. You could have killed me, but you didn’t. And I... I was ready to do it. I don’t know if I can live with that.”
Eunho squeezes his hand, a small, reassuring gesture. “We both made mistakes. But we’re alive. And we have a chance to make things right. I don’t want to lose you, Bamby. Not after everything we’ve been through.”
Bamby smiles, now a real, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you either. But I don’t know how to fix this.”
They fall into another stretch of silence, the air between them gradually clearing. Bamby feels a fragile spark of hope igniting within him. As long as they are both willing to try, perhaps they can find their way back to each other.
Eunho breaks the quiet with a teasing grin. “You know, we really aren’t great at this relationship thing.”
Bamby laughs softly, the sound lightening the mood. “Yeah, we’re pretty terrible at it.”
“But,” Eunho continues, his tone becoming more serious, “we can get better. We just need to stop trying to kill each other every time we have a disagreement.”
“Hm, that would definitely help.”
“And maybe next time, we can celebrate your birthday without turning it into a life-or-death situation.”
Bamby’s eyes sparkle with amusement. “No more gunfights or broken furniture?”
Eunho chuckles, the tension between them easing a little. “Exactly. Just a quiet dinner, maybe some cake, and—”
Eunho doesn't finish his sentence. The world suddenly explodes around them.
The sound is deafening. The force of the blast throws them back, the shockwave rippling through their bodies. Bamby barely has time to register the explosion before Eunho's arms are around him, pulling him close, shielding him from the shrapnel flying in every direction. The heat and pressure are overwhelming, as if the air itself is on fire. Bamby can feel the sharp sting of debris grazing his skin, but Eunho's protective embrace keeps the worst of it at bay.
They crash down onto the floor. Bamby lies there, dazed, struggling to make sense of the chaos around them. The ceiling above them cracks, threatening to collapse entirely. Before he can fully understand their situation, Eunho is already dragging him up.
“Get up!” Eunho shouts, his voice barely audible over the ringing in Bamby’s ears.
They stumble through the wreckage, Eunho leading the way. Another explosion shakes the house, and the floor beneath them is about to collapse. They are both hurled forward, crashing through the broken windows. The impact sends a jolt of pain through Bamby’s body, worsening his injuries.
For a moment, he can’t breathe.
The weight of the debris pins him down, the air filled with dust and smoke. He can hear Eunho’s frantic movements beside him, feel his hands shoving the ruins off them with desperate strength. Bamby tries to help, but his body refuses to cooperate, every movement sending fresh waves of pain through him.
Eventually, Eunho manages to free them from the wreckage. He hauls Bamby up, supporting him as they stagger away from the destroyed building. The apartment is in ruins, reduced to a jumble of broken wood, shattered glass, and concrete. The walls that remain are barely standing, and their bedroom door is hanging by a thread.
“This is definitely Asterum's doing,” Bamby spits, his voice a harsh rasp. “What the fuck? After ten years working under them faithfully, this is how they repay me?”
Eunho’s expression is grim as he responds, “We have to get out of here. It’s not just Asterum; Caelum is involved too. They’re both after us because we missed our mission deadline.”
The sound of a helicopter approaching makes their situation even worse. Bamby looks at Eunho. “Why are they targeting our place? We’re in a residential area for fuck’s sake!”
Eunho doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls Bamby towards the stairs, navigating through their panicked neighbors who are fleeing the building. People are shouting, fleeing the building as more explosions rock the structure.
They make their way to Eunho’s car. As soon as they are inside, Eunho starts the engine and speeds out of the parking lot with a screech.
The helicopter is right behind them, its searchlight cutting through the night, and bullets ping off the car’s bulletproof roof. Eunho grips the steering wheel tightly. “Thank fuck this car is bulletproof,” he says, though his eyes show his concern.
Bamby curses as well, glancing back at the pursuing helicopter. "Have our agencies completely lost their minds? What if there were civilians killed?"
Eunho doesn’t respond, his focus is on driving. He hands Bamby the AK47 that has been hanging around his neck. Bamby takes the weapon without hesitation, rolling down the window and aiming at the helicopter hovering above. With a steadying breath, he squeezes the trigger. The gunfire is deafening in the small car, each shot making his ears ring and the car shudder.
“Take us onto the main road! The helicopter won’t follow us with all that traffic!” Bamby shouts, his voice barely audible over the noise of the roaring engine and the distant thump of helicopter blades.
Eunho nods and yanks the steering wheel to the right, sending the car onto the main road. The sudden swerve makes Bamby’s heart leap into his throat. Just as he predicts, the helicopter hesitates, its pilot unwilling to risk navigating the tight airspace above the crowded road.
Eunho laughs, an unexpected sound that seems out of place given the danger they are in.
"Why the hell are you laughing?" Bamby snaps.
Eunho glances at him, a grin tugging at his lips. "You know, I’ve never seen anyone wear Kirby-patterned pajamas and still look so fierce. I’m lucky to be dating you."
"This is your fault. Why did you put this silly pajama on me?!" Bamby retorts, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Look on the dashboard,” Eunho says, his grin widening. “There’s a leather jacket and jeans. You can change into those.”
Without wasting a second, Bamby leans over and fumbles with the dashboard compartment, his fingers shaking as he pulls out the clothes. The car swerves dangerously as Eunho dodges through traffic, but Bamby focuses on changing. The jeans are far too big, but he manages to secure them with a belt, cinching it tightly around his waist.
Eunho glances at him, disbelief in his eyes. "Did you just change clothes in the middle of all this?”
"Yes," Bamby replies, fastening the belt. "The pajamas were too thin. I could get hurt again."
Eunho veers off the highway, and the air crackles with the sound of bullets tearing through the sky. A group of dark vans joins the chase, their menacing presence adding to the danger.
Bamby’s heart pounds as he assesses the situation, his calm demeanor contrasting sharply with the chaos. He reaches for his AK47, steadying it on the car door, and takes aim at one of the vans. His shot is precise, hitting the driver and causing the van to veer off the road, crashing with a sickening crunch.
But there are more coming.
Eunho’s car roars down the highway, tires screeching as he takes sharp turns at breakneck speed. Bamby reloads his weapon, his hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him. He fires at another van, his bullets smashing through the windshield and hitting the driver.
“Hang on!” Eunho shouts, taking another sharp turn. The helicopter has returned, its searchlights sweeping over them like a predatory gaze. Bamby aims upward, his shots hitting the helicopter’s rotor. Smoke erupts as the rotor spins erratically, and the helicopter begins to drift away.
More cars join the chase. Bamby counts at least seven cars closing in, their headlights glaring like the eyes of predators. “We can’t keep this up forever!” he yells over the roar of engines and gunfire.
“I know!” Eunho shouts back, his eyes looking between the rearview mirror and the road ahead. Beside them, the longest river in the country stretches out, its dark waters shimmering under the moonlight.
Despite the madness, Eunho keeps his focus, the toll bridge ahead appearing like a potential escape route. Then he glances at Bamby with a serious expression. “Darling, do you trust me? I’ve got a crazy idea.”
"I don't give a fuck! Just do something, Eunho!"
That is all the consent Eunho needs. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he wrenches the car to the right. The vehicle smashes through the bridge's railing with a deafening crash, jolting them violently. For a moment, time seems to freeze. The car's headlights cut through the darkness as they plunge toward the river below.
The crash is followed by a deafening roar as water surges through the shattered rear door, quickly flooding the car’s interior. It climbs from their feet to their ankles, then their knees, and soon It's rising rapidly, reaching their waists, then their chests.
"Bamby, get out of your seat!" Eunho shouts through the growing panic, his voice echoing in the claustrophobic space of the sinking vehicle. The car is already half-submerged, the water climbing quickly, swirling menacingly around them.
Bamby struggles with his seatbelt, his fingers numb and clumsy as the water rises around him. Panic claws at his chest as the water climbs higher, now creeping around his shoulders and threatening to choke him. He can see Eunho through the murky water, his expression one of fierce resolve as he fights to free him.
Eunho finally frees himself, his hands now working to free Bamby. The water is now nearly up to their chin. In a final, desperate effort, Eunho yanks at Bamby’s seatbelt, and it comes undone.
The car is almost completely submerged now, a dark shape sinking into the cold depths. Eunho grabs Bamby and pulls him through the icy water towards the open door. The water pressure is like an invisible force pushing against them, but Eunho keeps moving, kicking the door open with a powerful shove.
At last, they burst through the surface, gasping for the freezing air. Bamby is coughing and spluttering, his breaths coming in ragged, painful gasps. Eunho wraps his strong arms around him, holding him tight against the rushing current.
The water is relentless, pulling them along with its icy grip. Bamby’s vision swims at the edges, a heavy darkness creeping in as he struggles to stay awake.
"Hey, hold on," Eunho says, his voice hoarse but steady. "We're not out of this yet. Stay with me."
They fight their way toward the riverbank, each stroke of their arms feeling heavy and exhausting. The river current is less fierce now, a small mercy in their desperate situation. Every movement is a battle, but the shore is getting closer, a shadowy line against the shimmering water.
Finally, they reach the shore. Eunho drags Bamby out of the water, his muscles straining with the effort. Bamby collapses onto the wet sand, his body curled into a shivering ball. The cold has seeped deep into his bones, and his teeth chatter uncontrollably.
Eunho quickly wraps his arms around Bamby, pulling him close in a protective embrace. His body, though exhausted, radiates a warmth that contrasts sharply with the cold bite of the night air. “It’s alright,” he whispers, rubbing circles on Bamby's back. “Just breathe. We made it.”
Bamby's grip on Eunho tightens, his fingers digging into the fabric of Eunho's soaked shirt. "I’m never letting you drive again," he mutters through chattering teeth.
The attempt at humor makes Eunho chuckle softly. "Should I be flattered or worried that you’re more upset about my driving than the fact that we almost died twice today?"
Bamby’s eyelids droop heavily, the exhaustion from their ordeal weighing him down. Each shift of his body causes a wince of pain, and his movements are sluggish. Eunho notices the signs of his fatigue and gently shakes his shoulders. “Hey, darling. Don’t faint on me now,” he says softly. “I’ve got something to say to you.”
“Shut the fuck up. I’m so… tired,” Bamby whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the crashing waves. “I’ve got a gunshot wound on my shoulder, and last night you... well, you certainly made sure I’d have a memorable birthday.”
With a thoughtful expression, Eunho reaches for the simple silver necklace draped around his neck. Two rings, hanging like tiny, precious pendants, catch the moonlight and glimmer softly. He carefully unfastens the chain and puts the rings into his palm.
The rings shimmer in the moonlight, casting a gentle, silvery light. Eunho’s eyes, filled with determination, hold Bamby’s gaze as he slides one of the rings on Bamby’s finger.
“Chae Bamby,” Eunho begins, taking a deep breath to steady his voice. “I… want to live to an old age with you, in a place no one can reach. Just us, living as normal people. No more running, no more hiding. Imagine us in a little house with a garden where you can finally plant all those cactus and Monstera plants you that you love. We could get a dog or two, and name them something silly, like our codenames, 'Wolf' and 'Peach'. I want to wake up next to you every day, complain about the weather, and argue about who’s making breakfast. I want to be with you, in every moment, for the rest of our lives.”
“I want to celebrate our victories, no matter how small, and support each other through every challenge. I want to be the one holding your hand when you’re scared, cheering the loudest when you’re proud, and whispering ‘I love you’ every night before we fall asleep. I want to be with you, finding joy in the little things, like picking out the perfect couch or deciding which side of the bed is ours.”
“I want to spend weekends exploring, even if it’s just a walk in the park, and come home to a place that feels like home because you’re there. I want to hear your voice, your laugh, and your stories every day. I want to be the reason you smile when you wake up. I want to scold you for leaving your socks everywhere, and have pointless arguments about pineapple on pizza. I want us to get matching Kirby pajamas that are so ridiculous we’d be embarrassed if anyone saw us. I want all those little moments, the good and the bad, because they’ll all be with you.”
Bamby stares at him, a mix of disbelief and surprise on his face. “Did you… just propose to me after we escaped death, in wet clothes and ugly places like this?”
Eunho’s face lights up with a grin, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “Yeah, I did. My timing might not be the best, but I wanted you to know now, not later."
Bamby’s smile widens, a rare brightness shining through his tired eyes. He looks down at the ring now resting on his finger, the silver band reflecting the moonlight. For a moment, the pain and exhaustion seem to fade away, replaced by a warmth spreading through his chest.
“You’re such an idiot, Do Eunho.”
“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” Eunho replies, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him. “And you are stuck with me.”
Bamby reaches out first, cupping Eunho’s face in his hands. His touch is gentle but firm. He leans in slowly, their breaths mixing in the cool night air.
The world around them seems to pause as their lips finally meet.
The kiss starts softly, but soon, it grows more intense and Bamby’s hands move to the back of Eunho’s neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens. Eunho responds eagerly, wrapping his arms around Bamby’s waist, holding him tight like he never wants to let go.
Their lips move together with more and more urgency, each kiss full of need and longing. The taste of salt from the water mixes with the warmth of their mouths, creating an intoxicating sensation. Eunho’s hands move over Bamby’s back, feeling the heat and strength of his lover’s body. The kiss sends shivers down his spine, each touch lighting a fire inside him. Their hearts pound in unison, a shared rhythm that speaks of their unbreakable bond.
Finally, they pull away, their foreheads resting together as they catch their breath. Bamby’s eyes are bright with unshed happy tears. “Yes, you crazy bastard. Let’s get married.”
For that moment, nothing else matters.
The world can fall apart around them, but as long as they are together, they know they can face anything.
END.