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If this world was mine, I’d take your dreams and make them multiply
If this world was mine, I’d take your enemies in front of God
Introduce them to that light, Hit them strictly with that fire
…
If it was up to me
I wouldn’t give these nobodies no sympathy
I’d take away the pain, I’d give you everything
- Kendrick Lamar & SZA, luther
The first time Hansol saw him, his hands were covered in blood.
It wasn’t his own blood, nor was it the best first impression, but the beautiful man barely spared him a glance. Hansol was dumbstruck, everything that had happened over the last two minutes leaving him mute and staring. The other man, this vision of Heaven, had pretty eyes and slender hands and full pouting lips. He was kneeling in front of Hansol, removing all of the oxygen with his mere presence, and his eyes glanced up like they were made to smite him specifically. He was looking at him, the angel, the vision- And his voice, like honey, like ambrosia, a deep harmony, a siren song- Hansol felt helpless-
“Sir, you have to let him go now.”
Hansol glanced down, the man’s hand was wrapped around his wrist, tugging gently, trying to make him- “Oh!” Hansol let go of Hoshi like he’d been burned. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” the other man said with a small smile, his attention fully on Hoshi and the gunshot wound to his shoulder.
They were in the driveway of an abandoned house, the middle of the day, and the most surprising part of all this was the ambulance suddenly pulling up on the curb out of nowhere. Then he had jumped out of the back, dark boots, cargo pants, pullover jacket rolled up over his forearms, colorful bracelets over his thin wrists, blue duffle bag hanging from his shoulder-
Maybe that was why Hansol was completely hopeless to look away from this beautiful man, this God among mortals, this- this-
“I’ve got good news and bad news,” the beautiful man said as another suddenly ran over with his own duffle and bright grin, sunglasses perched on the crown of his hair. But the beautiful, striking, gorgeous one only seemed to be addressing Hoshi. “The good news is that the bullet went straight through, so I don’t have to mine for lead in your arm. The bad news, there are two holes in the shirt you told me not to cut off before my knees even hit the pavement.”
Hoshi groaned, teeth clenched and brow furrowed tightly. “This is Louis Vuitton, man!”
“Yeah, well, it’s also silk,” the beautiful man continued, his hands rapidly exchanging things with the other paramedic beside him. “You never would have gotten the blood out, anyway.”
Finally, the other spoke, handing over a pair of scissors. “I heard that if you use a sponge and cold salt water, you could get it out if you’re fast enough.”
“Maybe,” the beautiful one hummed, cutting into Hoshi’s shirt. With one gloved hand, he kept pressure over Hoshi’s wound, the other making use of the gauze and rolls laid out next to him, wrapping the wound faster than Hansol could keep up. Then the second one was back on his feet, running to the ambulance, before the first one spoke again. “You’re going to be taking a ride with us, okay? Any hospital you like in particular?”
Hoshi, seemingly resigned to his fate, let out a deep sigh like an annoyed child. “The closest one.”
“My man!” The second paramedic had returned with a stretcher, lowering it down next to them. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you there in no time,” he said, moving over to Hoshi’s legs. “I’m DK. My friend here is Seungkwan. You’re in good hands.”
Seungkwan. The angel had a name and it was Seungkwan. Hansol watched as he easily helped lift Hoshi onto the stretcher, his blond hair shimmering in the sun’s light, the exposed dark roots making him look otherworldly in the midday sun even as he walked away-
Seungkwan hopped into the back of the ambulance, and Hansol’s world instantly dimmed-
“If one of you wants to ride along,” DK called back, “you’re more than welcome!”
“Vernon will go!”
Hansol looked up, only just remembering that Seungcheol and Mingyu had been there the entire time. Seungcheol was pointing at him, Mingyu shooing him with a swatting hand, and- and- “We’ll follow behind you!” Seungcheol shouted.
Hansol shot up and ran to the ambulance, hopping into the back just as DK closed the doors. Seungkwan was there, of course, poking at a computer screen while an IV already sat in Hoshi’s arm. It was a tight space filled with containers and cabinets and machinery, all of which Hansol was a little terrified to touch. But Seungkwan stood amongst it like he was made for this sort of life.
Then Seungkwan turned away for just a second, turning back only to look again upon Hansol like he was worthy of his gaze. He was holding something in his hand, gesturing towards him with it, and- Hansol looked down, finding a wet wipe, and was instantly consumed with confusion and panic. Was this the modern equivalent of what a lady would give a knight in the old fantasy stories? A token of affection? A promise for something-?
“For your hands?” Seungkwan said, like he was unsure himself after Hansol hesitated for so long. “Please, use it. You’re making my ambulance look like a crime scene.”
Oh. Oh, the blood- “Oh! Sorry. Sorry-” Perhaps he was cursed to only utter two words in Seungkwan’s presence for the rest of his life. Still, he grabbed the wet wipe.
Seungkwan, blessed and beautiful, graced him with a kind smile. “It’s okay. You’re in shock.”
Hoshi groaned again. “I get shot and this is who I’m stuck with.”
DK laughed from the front of the cab, an area that Hansol only just realized existed. The other paramedic was in the driver’s seat, and they were moving without him having ever noticed. Well, not until just now, when they took a turn and his knee bashed against the stretcher. Seungkwan remained standing in the chaos, simply swaying with the motions. Absolutely ethereal.
“Look at it this way,” DK answered back. “My friend is too dense to even notice.”
Hoshi groaned again.
Hansol had no idea what they were talking about. Didn’t really care.
Seungkwan simply patted Hoshi’s shoulder to keep him in place. “I’m standing right here, you know,” he defended himself, giving Hoshi a little glare.
But Hoshi just glared right back. “How did you guys even get to us so fast? You can’t tell me you were answering a call or something. No one comes out here.”
“We were just coming back from a call, actually,” Seungkwan answered, seemingly distracted with the IV for a moment. “Now, Soonyoung, you’re absolutely sure you haven’t taken anything today? You seem awfully chatty for someone who just got shot and lost a six-pack’s worth of blood.”
“You can tell us!” DK chipped in. “We’re excellent at keeping secrets. If all our clientele went to jail, we’d go out of business!
Soonyoung? Hoshi must have given his real name at some point during Hansol’s crisis. He wasn’t surprised to have missed parts of the conversations. That was normal for him, anyway.
“I didn’t take anything,” Hoshi said, at least not seeming offended. Not after what happened to his shirt, anyway. “There was a softball incident in high school, and I kinda lost feeling in most of this shoulder ever since. Vernon can tell you. He was there.”
“Yeah,” Hansol supplied, observing the slope of Seungkwan’s nose coupled with the elegant curve of his cheek. And his eyelashes, he could spend the whole day counting them. Then there was his scent, something citrus, something sterile-
“Can I have new friends?” Hoshi suddenly asked, finally sounding offended again. “DK, you got a phone number?”
DK simply laughed. “Numbers on the first meeting. My, my. I’m happily single, just so you know, but Seungkwan might be on the market!”
Hoshi sputtered a laugh, Seungkwan rolled his eyes and murmured about professionalism, but Hansol- Hansol could only stare.
Because he was single.
Seungkwan was single.
—
Nothing actually happened after that. They were taken to the hospital, Hoshi saw a doctor, words were said, life went on, two weeks passed, and Hansol hadn’t seen Seungkwan since.
It was for the best, really. Nothing good would come from Seungkwan being around more often. And after that fleeting thought, Hansol didn’t even think of him. Not overly much, anyway. He honestly figured he’d never see Seungkwan again.
For the best.
But then, on a random Thursday just after six in the morning, there was an ambulance parked on the street in front of Ms. Darcy’s house. The sky was only just beginning to brighten from inky black to a dull blue, the dew was still clinging to the grass, traffic in the distance was beginning to get louder, and… there was an ambulance.
Hansol and Chan were making their morning rounds, patrolling the area without strictly calling it that, when they both stopped dead on the sidewalk because of the aforementioned ambulance. Both of them just stared at the unassuming vehicle in silence before Ms. Darcy’s front door suddenly opened.
DK came out first with a smile and a fist full of hard candy. Seungkwan was behind him still trying to talk and close the door at the same time. “Yes, ma’am! No, no, we’re happy to come by. We don’t mind at all. Just remember, there’s nothing on the news that’s worth throwing a prosthetic leg across the room for, okay? And keep an eye on that thermostat next time. Okay, bye! Bye, now! Thank you! Bye!”
By the time Seungkwan finally got the door closed, DK was in front of them. “Good morning!” he chirped brightly, like it wasn’t barely six. “Candy?”
“Uh-” Chan blinked at the offered hand in front of him. “No, thank you. Is everything okay with Ms. Darcy?”
“Oh, yeah.” DK had already moved to the truck, trying to get the driver’s door open without dropping his candy. “Everything’s great. Nothing to worry about.”
By then, Seungkwan was finally approaching them, and Hansol had yet to take his eyes off of the other man. He could feel a timer ticking down above his head like a guillotine as Seungkwan got closer, all too aware that he had to act, but unsure how he should- “Good morning!!”
Seungkwan paused, his eyes instantly cutting to Hansol and- and- A smile appeared, small, polite, unsure, but there was a questioning gaze in his eyes that- and- he- “Good morning?”
Seungkwan didn’t remember him.
Hansol wanted to wither into dust and become one with Ms. Darcy’s flower bed.
“Oh!” Chan piped up beside him. “You’re the guys who treated Soonyoung, aren’t you? He was shot in the shoulder a couple of weeks ago?”
A spark, a blink, recognition, a broader smile-
DK spoke up first. “We sure are! He’s doing good, I take it?”
“Oh, yeah,” Chan answered with a huff and a wave of his hand. “He’s been annoying lately. Just sits around and makes us do stuff for him.”
“That’s good,” Seungkwan answered, walking around to the other side of the truck. “Just let him milk it for a few more weeks, okay?”
Chan replied with something, but Hansol was too enraptured with trying to watch Seungkwan until he climbed inside of the ambulance. DK waved at them, and they pulled away from the curb, driving down the street, taking a left, and vanishing from Hansol’s life again.
For a while, they both stood in silence, Hansol still watching where the ambulance disappeared, and Chan watching him. Eventually, the other sighed. “The guys were right. You really do have it bad.” Hansol didn’t answer him, so Chan just tapped him on the arm. “Let’s go.”
Chan walked off in the opposite direction, but Hansol stayed in place a moment longer. Though, really… for the best.
He turned and followed Chan.
—
Boo Seungkwan was born in Busan and grew up on Jeju Island. He went to university in Seoul before doing his residency back in Jeju. He later moved back to Seoul and worked in a hospital for a time before becoming a full-time paramedic. Pristine driving record. No arrests. Visited known gay clubs on occasion. His mother lived in Jeju and his two older sisters lived here in the city. No mention of a father. No significant other.
Hansol had done a little research.
It wasn’t weird. They looked into people all the time, especially new faces in the area. The only reason he didn’t try to look up DK was because he was pretty sure that wasn’t his real name. Never mind the fact that he didn’t even consider it until he’d already deleted his virtual trail and moved away from the computer. It didn’t really matter.
It was a pretty night out. Nothing loud going on, just the right temperature. Hansol was usually the type to hide away in their armory, cleaning guns as a nightly ritual. He didn’t really like guns much, but he liked them as little machines he could take apart and piece together again. It chilled him out. Helped him unwind after a long day. But it could wait a little longer, though.
He was outside on the porch when the door behind him opened and closed. Cars occasionally passed on the street out front, Hansol’s stare following them into the night. He took a drag of his cigarette, blowing out the smoke on a sigh, watching it float away on the wind.
“Jeonghan’s going to make you eat that if he catches you,” Seungcheol lightly warned, leaning on the railing next to his shoulder.
Seungcheol had known him the longest. They weren’t really friends at first, though. Neighbors, mostly. There was that one time Seungcheol saved him from a group of bullies, but Hansol doubted he remembered that. Seungcheol always liked being a hero.
Ironically, it was Hoshi that brought them all together like this. After new people came into the area. After things started getting bad. It was Hoshi’s idea to bring together friends of friends and- Well. Here they were, standing out on a porch together, not friends until well after Seungcheol graduated, Hansol dropped out, and shit had gotten too bad to ignore.
And then there was Jeonghan, who was Seungcheol’s… something. Whatever he wanted to be, Hansol was sure. And speaking of-
Hansol rolled the cigarette in his mouth, pushing it between his teeth with his tongue. “You think if I ask him, he’d convince the others to take some first aid training or something?” CPR wouldn’t be a terrible thing to learn.
“Stop,” was the only answer he got. Gentle, coming off as a joke, definitely not a joke.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Hansol continued. “I’m allowed to pitch things.”
“I wasn’t talking about that.”
Ah. Hansol shifted his jaw, biting a little into the filter. He watched the smoke drift away. “Nothing’s happening. It’s for the best. I’m not stupid.”
“Good,” Seungcheol sighed, sounding tired more than anything. He clapped Hansol on the shoulder. “Keep it that way. Nothing good will come of it.”
A beat. The door opened and closed again. Hansol was alone.
He was sure he could at least convince Jeonghan to make the others learn CPR, though.
—
The third time Hansol saw him was by complete accident. Sure, he had looked Seungkwan up, but he wasn’t about to go stalking the guy. He had no plans to visit his place of work, wasn’t going to circle the block he lived on, and absolutely wasn’t about to start clubbing. He had been honest before. It really was for the best. Even if he hadn’t seen Seungkwan in weeks. Again.
But there he was, like a dream, sitting at a table in stonewashed jeans and a white linen shirt that hung from his shoulders. He was talking and laughing and looked absolutely stunning.
They were in a bar downtown that Hansol sometimes liked to visit. He didn’t come by often. Didn’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention to the place. But it was cozy and quiet and brought in all sorts of people. Apparently, even off-duty EMT workers.
Hansol was nursing his glass of wine, only holding it for show instead of actually drinking, when Seungkwan’s beautiful eyes glanced up and caught the light and looked straight into Hansol’s soul. He smiled, soft and sweet, turning back to the others for a second before standing, before making his way over-
Hansol couldn’t move. Even if he wanted to, he felt frozen in place, his hand tightening just a little around his glass, his breath hitching when Seungkwan brushed next to him, tangerines and rubbing alcohol-
“Vodka and cranberry,” he said to the bartender, placing down his empty glass, glancing at Hansol again with another sweet smile.
Hansol, hopeless, weightless, opened his mouth. “Having fun?”
Seungkwan shrugged. “Nice to get out, you know?”
“So…” Hansol, still, forever, for eternity, could not keep his mouth shut. “Not having fun?”
“It’s a work thing,” Seungkwan said in a lower voice but with that sweet smile still in place. “One of our dispatchers got engaged, her boss wanted to order us a round- Like one of those obligatory things, you know?”
Hansol didn’t, but he nodded like he did. “DK’s not with you.” He had to take a glance over after the words left his mouth to actually make sure. But no, DK was nowhere to be seen.
And Seungkwan was sighing about it. “Jerk decided to take an extra shift instead of coming out tonight. At this point, I can’t really blame him, though.” Then he paused, some color coming to his cheeks, a hand swatting in the air. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be- Sorry, that was rude of me. I should just-”
Hansol blinked at him a couple of times, eyes darting between Seungkwan and the gaggle of people over at his table. The bartender sat down his vodka and cranberry. Now or never. “Want to get out of here?”
A pause. Even the air stilled, the room feeling like it had gone just a decibel or two quieter. Seungkwan looked at him, smiling but scrutinizing, looking him up and down, sizing him up.
If he was about to be found wanting, Hansol didn’t want to hear it, so he interrupted before Seungkwan could even speak. “I can just pretend to be your ride if you want an escape.”
The scrutiny cleared away, some of it lingering in his eyes, but the smile looked more genuine now. “You don’t mind?” Hansol shook his head, and Seungkwan glanced over at the table again. There was a second of deliberation, of chewing on his pretty lip, before a decision seemed to happen. Seungkwan took his drink, downed half of it, and sat it back on the bar. “Be right back.”
And he was away, fluttering over to the table in his graceful ease, clapping someone on the back with a laugh, smoothly interrupting. “Just wanted to congratulate you one more time! My ride’s here.” He thumbed behind him, right at Hansol, and heads began to turn.
Hansol quickly looked away, unreasonably shy like he’d never been in his life. Instead of questioning it, he waved the barkeep over. “I want to close my tab. And his, too. White shirt. I’m paying both.”
Seungkwan returned just as Hansol was handing back the signed check. “One second. I still need to pay my tab.”
“No need.” Hansol shook his head. “It’s already done.”
Hansol stepped away and started making for the door while Seungkwan seemed to be stuck in a stupor. He was so cute with his little pout, glancing at the bartender who gave him a quick thumbs up before taking care of other patrons. Only then did he follow after Hansol, that pretty pout still on his lips. “You didn’t have to do that.” The scrutiny was back.
For some reason, this time, Hansol wasn’t all that nervous about it. He just shrugged and held the door open. “You saved my friend’s life. Paying for your drink was the least I could do.”
“Ah-” Somewhere on auto-pilot, Seungkwan walked through the door and paused on the sidewalk. He was even prettier under the city lights, practically glowing, the wind just chilly enough to sting and make his cheeks slightly rosy. So cute. “Thank you,” Seungkwan answered with that adorable pout.
Hansol just nodded, letting the matter drop. “Did you actually need a ride home?”
“I rode the bus here,” Seungkwan answered without really giving an answer. Then his brow furrowed a bit, something angry in his pretty eyes when he looked back to Hansol. “Wait, what about you?”
Already seeing where this was going, Hansol just gave him back a tiny smile. “I didn’t drink anything,” he said, nodding back inside. “I just come over here to people watch sometimes. When I do drink, I can just leave my bike here. The owner’s cool with that.”
“Ah-” Again, Seungkwan seemed to stumble on his words, clearing his throat, looking away. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Hansol automatically said before getting confused. “For what?”
“For-” Seungkwan waved a hand between them, his brow furrowing a bit more. “For assuming. I just see a lot of stuff- preventative stuff- Anyway, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Something in all this made Hansol a little angry. Not Seungkwan’s suggestions about his person or even the situations he was referring to, but more so because he was apologizing in the first place. Seungkwan should never have to apologize for something like that. Or about anything at all. To anyone. “You’re just trying to help. Don’t apologize for something like that.”
“Oh.” Seungkwan went silent for a second, scrutinizing again but in a different way. Hansol could feel his gaze on him, like a physical press against his body everywhere he looked. It wasn’t a bad feeling, he decided. But then his gaze met his eyes again. “I’m-...” The word trailed away before it really began, Seungkwan seeming to debate something with himself. Hansol stayed still, waiting, hoping that he would feel comfortable enough to say whatever was on his mind. Then- “I’m not really ready to go home just yet…”
Again, the words trailed away. Hansol decided to take a leap, just this once. “Well… want to just go for a ride then?”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Seungkwan giggled. “Okay.”
—
Seungkwan was the prettiest person he’d ever seen, so Hansol decided to take him to the prettiest place he could think of. It seemed fitting in the moment, despite the late hour. With the darkness, though, the colors that were usually there didn’t pop or shine under the night sky. But the city was all lit up beneath them, shining under the hill’s lookout point that he’d parked them at.
It wasn’t until after they had gotten there that Hansol began to second guess himself. Seungkwan wasn’t drunk, really, but he still took an unsuspecting person out of the city and into the wilderness, into the woods, into the dark. Anything could happen.
Not that he was planning something insane. He just didn’t want to scare him.
But Seungkwan took his helmet off and looked down at the city with nothing but awe, not a hint of fear to be found. The lights shone in Seungkwan’s eyes like a million stars, and Hansol was completely enraptured by Seungkwan’s glow yet again.
Then their eyes met and Seungkwan giggle, his laugh chiming against Hansol’s ribs. “Aren’t you going to take your helmet off?”
“Oh-” Hansol quickly took it off, feeling a little sheepish again.
But Seungkwan just laughed, moving to get off the bike.
“You might wanna stay on,” Hansol said quickly, making himself feel a little sick and very much selfish. “It’s dark and the hill’s steep. And there are snakes.”
“Oh,” Seungkwan muttered, sitting back into place, hands pressed against Hansol’s back.
Hansol forgot all about feeling selfish.
Then, like a chime, Seungkwan laughed. “This is crazy.” Hansol hummed in question, and Seungkwan shook his head. “I get on the back of a bike with a guy I barely know and let him drive me out of the city to the middle of nowhere knowing that he’s armed.”
Hansol tensed, his veins suddenly lead-lined, stomach filled with cement. He didn’t know what look was on his face. He didn’t know what to do. What was there that he could do?
But Seungkwan just raised an eyebrow at him. “I knew all of you were packing when we first met. I’m going to notice when I’m pressed against you.”
“Sorry.” Because that was it, his only thing that he could do, helpless and hopeless. Fuck. The conversation with Seungcheol on the porch came to mind.
Seungkwan easily brushed the memory aside with another shake of his head. “Don’t. I get it.”
“Do you?”
A head tilt, a long look, head to toe and back again. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” Seungkwan began, “but you’re in a gang or something, right?”
Hansol swallowed. “Or something. You’re not-” Fuck. “Well.”
“And the other group,” Seungkwan continued, uncaring for Hansol’s plight, “they’re your rivals? The one’s that shot Soonyoung?”
Um- “You probably shouldn’t be asking questions.”
“Yeah, probably.” A chuckle, a shrug. “DK and I have noticed the different territories. It’s not exactly a secret. You must know that.”
Hansol had the sudden horrific thought that Seungkwan had some sort of death wish. It would explain a lot of things. Like why he would be working in their area in the first place. Why he got on this bike tonight. Why he’s talking like this. The thought was so bad, so consuming, he couldn’t keep it to himself. “Why did you choose to work in our neighborhood? No one else comes anymore.”
Another laugh, this one a little more real than the first. “I didn’t just choose it. I had to fight for it. They eventually agreed to let me go out there if I got a partner, and DK was easy enough to sway. He’s soft hearted.”
That didn’t- “But why?”
His pretty eyes looked back at Hansol like he was fucking stupid. “Because no one else comes.”
Oh. Hansol blinked. “There’s a reason for that.”
Seungkwan shrugged. “People need help everywhere. I’d say they need help more in areas like yours, wouldn’t you agree? It’s not like it’s just gang violence either. People live there. Older people, disabled people, sick people, healthy people, armed people-” he shrugged again. “My coworkers are fucking cowards.”
Oh. Hansol opened his mouth. Closed it. “I looked you up,” he heard himself say, unable to stop himself from talking now that he began. “I’m kinda obsessed with you.”
Silence. Staring. Seungkwan didn’t seem to know how to address that. Maybe he didn’t fully understand or didn’t know where to start. Then his brow furrowed. He smiled. Different this time. Sharp. Dangerous. Not unpleasant. “In a good way?”
No. “I hope so.”
Again, for the third time that night, Seungkwan looked him over. Hansol could feel the weight of his gaze again. Then the hand on his shoulder- It slid down his back. “Come back to my place?”
—
Hansol pressed Seungkwan against his front door, tongue deep in his mouth, hands beneath his shirt, feeling nails bite into his scalp-
The ride back had been awkward, even by Hansol’s standards. They didn’t speak at all once he’d found a place to park, barely muttering a word as they took the elevator up to Seungkwan’s apartment. No groping or teasing words or leering glances or anything. In fact, Seungkwan wouldn’t even look at him, his pretty fingers playing with the hem of his shirt, teeth worrying at his bottom lip. Hansol, of course, hadn’t been able to look away.
But as they got on the right floor and approached his door, Hansol began to panic a little. Would Seungkwan have a change of heart now that they arrived and the vibe had changed so much? Would he have come to his senses once he was home again, wondering how he could let himself get whisked away like that? Again, it felt like now or never.
And it happened as soon as Seungkwan’s door was open, Hansol blinking back into reality and letting himself (rudely) inside, shoving Seungkwan back against his own closed door. He would be panicking more about what a menace he was making himself out to be, but Seungkwan was moaning against his lips like he loved it, so any self-reflection was immediately dropped.
Hansol broke, moving lower, nosing at his jaw and attaching his lips to his throat, sucking at a space just beneath his ear-
Seungkwan gasped, moaned- “Vernon-”
And he- His name. Seungkwan remembered. Seungkwan remembered his name.
“Bedroom,” Hansol muttered, pulling away for a breath just before Seungkwan’s grip in his hair brought him back in for another kiss.
But Seungkwan did seem to hear him, ripping away again and grabbing his wrist, leading him down a hall. The place was probably nice. Well organized, very clean, Hansol could imagine it. He wasn’t looking around, though. He had just noticed Seungkwan’s ass. Like… just actually noticed.
He was probably going to die tonight.
There wasn’t enough time to get a good look around the bedroom either. Seungkwan had turned and fallen back into the bed, nearly pulling Hansol down with him. An effort was made to do so, actually, but Hansol was suddenly gripped with a seed of panic and realization because this was actually happening. Seungkwan beneath him, beautiful and perfect, tugging on his clothes and hair, wanting him.
Hansol dug a knee into the mattress, leaning forward to give Seungkwan a deep kiss, biting at his lip- “I’m going to do everything to you.” Because if he was going to be given this gift, he wasn’t going to waste it. He was going to be the best he’s ever been tonight. He was going to be a goddamn sex god for this beautiful being.
Seungkwan pulled away quickly, crawling up the bed. “You’re going to fuck me,” he said like it was already decided upon. Certainly sounded like it was. “Get those clothes off,” he continued, reaching into the bedside table.
And Hansol… was all for that. He was already halfway onto the bed, having to take a second to struggle with the jacket before it finally came free and sailed across the room.
“That’s okay, right?” Seungkwan suddenly asked, looking away from the drawer he’d been rummaging through only to freeze once he looked at Hansol. “Oh-”
Which made Hansol freeze, too. He glanced down at himself, hoping that he just looked particularly sexy in this shirt and wasn’t covered in whatever he ate for lunch or-
Oh.
Well.
There was nothing to be done for it now. Hansol carefully but quickly removed the gun from his shoulder holster, placing it on the table between Seungkwan’s phone charger and lava lamp- “Neat lamp,” he commented, the harness coming off next, thrown in the general direction of where his jacket probably landed.
Seungkwan’s eyes were still on the gun, nothing really showing in his expression about what he thought of it, but the forgotten condom and bottle of lube in his hands probably said enough.
“And yeah,” Hansol answered the earlier question, crawling over the top of him, leaning down for a kiss. “That sounds perfect.” He didn’t want Seungkwan to look at the gun, didn’t want him to think too hard about what the hell either of them were doing. And luckily, wonderfully, Seungkwan started kissing back again, seeming to be of the same mind.
Then his hands tugged at Hansol’s shirt, and they both got back with the program. Reluctantly, Hansol pulled away from his lips again, wrestling his shirt off before getting distracted with Seungkwan removing his pretty linen, revealing much prettier skin underneath.
“It’s- It’s been awhile,” Seungkwan gasped out, his hands moving to his pants. “I’m going to need to- Vernon!”
Hansol had wrapped his lips around one of his perfect nipples, teeth digging into the flesh around it. He hummed in question, hands wandering over Seungkwan’s waist, idly trying to figure out how he was expected to remain sane for any of this.
Seungkwan, perfect and beautiful, writhed and whined beneath him. Hansol rolled his nipple over his teeth just like one of his cigarettes.
“Fuck! Wait- Stop- Vernon-”
Hansol pulled away. “Let me do it,” he begged in a rasp that didn’t even sound like himself, his hand searching for the lube even while his lips found collarbone. “Please? I’ll be gentle. I’ll be good-”
“You’ll be fast.” Seungkwan pushed the bottle into his hand, wiggling out of his pants. “I won’t break. Just do it.”
Fuck fuck fuck- Hansol coated his fingers quickly, so eager to please, before sliding his hand down, down, down, deftly finding his entrance. He pressed a finger inside to the first knuckle, Seungkwan gasping and moaning beneath him while Hansol continued teething along his neck and shoulder.
It was so much. It was so much- He pressed the rest of his finger inside. “You’re so tight. You’re-”
“Another-”
Hansol felt dumb and stupid and high, pressing a second finger inside, Seungkwan mewling and whining-
He didn’t expect it to be like this. Well, he hadn’t expected it to be like anything, his mind never having wandered into this sort of territory, never even dreaming that he’d actually get this far. But still, he kind of expected Seungkwan to be the shy type, the whining type, the submissive-
His heel kicked into the side of Hansol’s ribs. “C’mon, another, fuck-”
Hansol wasn’t complaining, though. He pressed a third finger inside of the wet, tight, scalding, welcoming hole, more turned on than he’d ever been in his life. “Seungkwan-” His teeth grazed across his neck, fucking his fingers into him, stretching as much as he could. “Seungkwan, it’s- You’re too-”
“I can take it,” Seungkwan breathed out, arching against the bed, bottom lip trembling just a little. He looked so gone, already so fucked out, yet still so in control-
Hansol stared at the eyelashes fanning over Seungkwan’s perfect cheek, his hand moving automatically, too aware that he’d probably come before they even got started if he thought about this too much. So perfect, so pretty- Seungkwan’s full lips open and inviting, begging to be kissed, but all Hansol could do was stare and stare and stare-
“Fuck me,” Seungkwan finally gasped, his eyes fluttering open. “I’m ready. Put it in. Just- Vernon-”
Put it in, he said so sweetly and demanding like Hansol still had a shred of sanity left. He heaved a groan, pulling his fingers out fast enough to make Seungkwan hiss on his words, hands fumbling with his fly, pulling himself out-
“Wait-”
Hansol nearly choked, a million scenarios running through his mind in the flash of an instant. Wait!? Had Seungkwan come to his senses finally? Realized he was crazy for getting on Hansol’s bike, inviting him back to his place, letting him touch him like- Hansol might actually fucking cry if he was being kicked out-
Seungkwan shoved his shoulder. “Get on your back. Let me ride you.”
Oh.
Hansol quickly complied before Seungkwan could change his mind. And for a moment, he was so caught up on not being kicked out, that he didn’t fully realize why his back was suddenly against the headboard until Seungkwan’s bare thighs straddled him.
For a single second of clarity, Hansol realized he was about to die. Worse, he had already been snared. A willing and pliant victim to Seungkwan’s sweet schemes. This siren- This- This incubus was about to absolutely ruin him-
Hansol didn’t come back to himself until Seungkwan was rolling the condom onto him, his cock twitching while a moan slipped out before he could stop it. “Fuck, Seungkwan-”
Before he could say much else, Seungkwan’s pretty hand was digging into his shoulder, lowering himself slowly onto Hansol’s cock while his head tilted back-
Hansol slammed his eyes shut and tried to breathe, tried not to think. And Seungkwan, merciless, perfect, didn’t stop. Hansol groaned and felt his hands grip too hard into Seungkwan’s hips, but he otherwise stayed still until the other was fully sheathed on him. Then everything stopped. Finally.
And he was not going to last. Fuck.
Hansol focused everything on his breathing, but a part of his mind that had been taken over by Seungkwan at some point was on a steady chant- wet, soft, warm, soft, tight, warm, soft, tight tight tight-
He swallowed and opened his eyes, finding Seungkwan on top of him with his mouth dropped open and head tilted forward, hanging between his shoulders, chest steadily heaving with breath. Some bits of Hansol came online enough to be a little concerned, but Seungkwan licked his lips and looked up at him from beneath his lashes, his sharp eyes cutting, ceasing every other thought in Hansol’s head.
“Ready?” Seungkwan’s voice was rough but steady, like he had been waiting for Hansol. Maybe he had.
Hansol nodded, swallowed around nothing, his mouth and throat dry- “Yeah. I’m ready.”
Seungkwan didn’t break eye contact. He rose himself up with his knees, strong thighs flexing, before dropping himself back down and slowly building a rhythm. He kept moving like that, growing steadily faster and bolder, huffs escaping him every time he pressed back down, voice turning higher and higher, whining with it-
Hansol couldn’t look away, his hands releasing their grip to scramble over Seungkwan’s sweet supple skin, not sure what to touch next, so fucking overwhelmed, his hips moving into him harder and harder every time they met-
Seungkwan cried and began to tremble, his pace getting faster, eyes finally closing and looking lost in it-
Hansol changed the angle, suddenly leaning forward to press them together, an arm tight around Seungkwan’s waist while the other buried into his hair, thoughts static with need- “Please, please, Seungkwan,please. Can I? Can I, please?”
“You-” Seungkwan gasped, shivered. “You can do whatever you want to me. You can-”
Hansol flipped them, pressing Seungkwan down into the bed, a mindless beast, fucking into him as hard as he could, biting into his shoulder-
Seungkwan screamed against his ear, nails clawing down his back-
He spilled hard into the condom, fucking him through it, a growl ripping out of his throat-
Then everything finally slowed. And stopped.
Cold air began flowing into his heated lungs, breath finally coming easy again as his jaw relaxed enough to let go of Seungkwan’s shoulder. And Seungkwan-...
Hansol slowly lifted himself on his arms, taking in the closed eyes and open mouth, the cum staining his stomach and chest, the blush running across the entire expanse of skin that Hansol could see. An absolute vision. Beautiful and stunning, more so than Hansol had thought possible, a sight he wanted to covet all for himself, a sight that was his alone to see, a sight that he caused.
Seungkwan’s eyes fluttered open just a little, dark pupils dilated but still glued to Hansol’s figure, somehow making the world much quieter.
He lifted a trembling hand.
Hansol couldn’t breathe.
Seungkwan’s palm found the side of his face, cupping his jaw, and Hansol felt deprived, nuzzling against the welcome hand while his eyes fell shut. Seungkwan’s thumb ran across his bottom lip, and Hansol opened his mouth to allow him entry-
But the hand pulled away.
Hansol opened his eyes again, finding the hand hovering between them, blood on the thumb. He blinked at it, gaze suddenly shifting to Seungkwan’s shoulder- “Oh, fuck! I’m so sorry!” He pulled out suddenly, making them both wince and hiss, but Hansol was a little preoccupied. “Fuck, shit, does it hurt? Are you-?”
Seungkwan laughed. Not a chuckle, not a giggle, not even being demeaning or mean. His hands covered his face, full-bodied laughs taking him, rolling over just a little like that would help his sudden attack. And Hansol, of course, didn’t know what to fucking do except stare and take the moment in. But Seungkwan righted himself quickly, waving a hand. “I’m fine-” He cleared his throat, voice a little hoarse. “It’s fine, I’m okay.”
“You’re bleeding.” He did that. Hansol wasn’t sure if he should feel horrified or proud. Actually, he knew which he should feel, but the two were battling it out at the moment.
“I liked it,” Seungkwan said easily, like it wasn’t an earth-shattering declaration while he gently touched the wound with his pretty fingers. “The bathroom, under the sink.” He pointed to a door that Hansol only just noticed. “There’s a first-aid kit.”
Right, okay. He could do that much without embarrassing himself. Hansol stood from the bed on wobbly legs, only needing to catch himself on the dresser once.
“And please take the condom off,” Seungkwan’s voice followed after him. “And get a rag. Two rags!”
Hansol returned victorious, setting his goods on the bed while Seungkwan tried to rise himself on unsteady arms. He quickly moved to help, feeling pretty great when Seungkwan allowed it, letting him prop him against the headboard.
That done, he opened the first-aid kit and-…
Hansol wasn’t exactly a stranger around these things. There were many times where he and the others had to stitch their own wounds, stop their own bleeding. He expected ointments, some pills, maybe tweezers. “Is that a 5-Hour Energy? And fishing line?”
Seungkwan put his hand over Hansol’s and the fishing line, slowly lowering both back to the box. “Focus, sweetheart. Can you hand over the blue and white tube, please? And get some bandages ready for me?”
His voice was gentle enough, but Hansol wasn’t sure if the sweetheart was patronizing or not. He also wasn’t sure if Seungkwan was sane or not.
He handed over the blue and white tube, idly wondering how Seungkwan managed to stuff so many different kinds of bandages and gauze into this little box. He didn’t even know they made so many different kinds. His fingers passed over a few of them, pulling out one that seemed an appropriate size. Seungkwan took it without fuss, so Hansol counted that as another win.
It took him a second to wonder if he should have offered his help seeing as Seungkwan really only had one hand to work with, but by the time the thought passed through his mind, Seungkwan was already patched up without Hansol even realizing he’d been working.
Then Seungkwan took the still clean rag, waving his hand in a pretty twirl. “Turn around.”
Hansol stared. Why did he-? Was he in danger again? Was this a sex thing again? Was he ready for another sex thing- Kinda, actually, and while he was always someone up for trying anything, medical play felt like they should maybe talk about it first-
Seungkwan giggled. Pretty chimes. “I got you a little, too. Your back looks like a wild animal caught you.”
Oh… “That’s not far off,” Hansol answered, turning around obediently.
There was something cold against his back, a little stinging sensation, but Seungkwan was efficient and gentle with his work. Otherwise, the room grew quiet, and Hansol… grew restless. Grew bold. Grew stupid. “It was good for you, right?”
Seungkwan huffed, amused. “I think your shredded back answers that much. And you?”
“You make me feel like a virgin again,” he answered, feeling crazier and braver and- “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
Even when Seungkwan laughed, his confidence didn’t wane. “You want to do all that again so soon?”
Yes. Completely. Absolutely. “Right now, I’m just asking what you’re doing tomorrow.”
“I have a shift early in the morning,” Seungkwan admitted. “Between that and tonight, I think my plans are booked with sleeping.”
Fair. “What about the day after?”
There was a pause, a hesitant motion in his hands for just a split second. “I’m working graveyard.”
Ah. Hansol bit his lip, his earlier confidence plummeting to the core of the Earth, feeling only stupid now. Stupid and… just stupid.
“Turn around.” Hansol did, easily obeying before being caught by surprise, one of Seungkwan’s gentle hands holding Hansol’s jaw in a firm grip. “I enjoyed tonight,” Seungkwan said with a hard stare. “I want to do this again, but I work weird hours. If you’re willing to move with my schedule, I don’t see why we can’t meet up later.”
Oh. Hansol blinked. Twice. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Seungkwan blessed him with another sweet smile, releasing him and going back to the first-aid kit, closing it up. “If you want to stay the night, you’re welcome to. But like I said, I have an early morning.”
He really should absolutely not be entertaining the idea of staying the night. “Okay,” Hansol said again, shifting to the other side of the bed.
Seungkwan put the first-aid kit on his dresser. “Do you want clothes to sleep in? You can borrow something of mine.”
Maybe it was because he was already doing a lot of stupid things tonight, but Hansol again felt brave. “Do you want me to wear clothes to bed?”
The pause was much shorter than he thought it’d be. “Not really.”
“Then, no.”
Seungkwan smiled a little, another tiny but coveted reward, tucking his pretty legs beneath the blankets. “I… like to cuddle. Is that okay?”
Hansol hummed, making himself comfortable. “I sleep on my back, so I’ve never been good at the spooning thing, but we can cuddle if you’re fine with that.”
Almost like he was just waiting for permission, Seungkwan instantly folded himself to Hansol’s side, arms around his waist, legs tangling together. Seungkwan’s head rested on his chest, and Hansol felt whatever tension remained drain from both their bodies.
His eyes were already closed, half dozing, but he could feel Seungkwan’s fingertips slowly dancing over his chest, tracing a familiar pattern above his heart. Then his voice, murmured and low, “What is this?”
“I got it with some friends,” Hansol murmured quietly back. It was just a tattoo, three lines, two of them intersecting, forming an upside-down triangle. Or a number, if you knew how to look at it.
“It’s pretty,” Seungkwan continued, like he didn’t know what it was, what it meant.
“You like it?”
Seungkwan hummed and stopped tracing it.
A second passed, and Hansol was opening his eyes again, the room dark but the weight beside him gone. He blinked, looking over to the rustling next to the bed, finding Seungkwan back in uniform and hooking a radio to his belt.
When he looked up, he caught Vernon’s eye, his serious features turning surprised and soft. “Did I wake you?” he asked in a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
Hansol ignored the question, his words slurring as he spoke, “What time is it?”
“Four.”
“Damn.”
Seungkwan laughed at him like the reaction was cute and not extremely warranted. Four was a terrible hour. What the fuck? But then the bed dipped while Hansol was trying to rub sleep out of his eyes, and he looked to find Seungkwan watching him with too much fondness, reaching out to brush a piece of hair from his face. “You’re cute in the morning,” he said in that same quiet whisper, like it was something that couldn’t be uttered even a little bit louder, something a little too sacred for all that.
Hansol didn’t know how to take it, especially at this unholy hour, so he just shut his eyes and nuzzled a tiny bit into Seungkwan’s hand instead, humming without a real response.
But Seungkwan’s hand pulled away and a question came to mind, one that might keep him here a little longer. “You said DK was working last night,” he tried to articulate through his pre-coffee thoughts. “But you can only go into our area with a partner…”
“He and I are on-call all the time.” Seungkwan smiled like it was nothing, raising a tiny black box from his belt. “If something happens, I gotta go.”
Hansol… was suddenly awake. “Is that a beeper?”
Seungkwan laughed again, handing over the device and leaving the bed, allowing Hansol to look it over. He had to blink a few times to see somewhat properly, trying to be careful not to touch any buttons, but he couldn’t even tell if there were any. The thing was a bit battered and old, probably made back in the `90s for all he could tell. He’d never seen an actual fucking beeper before.
But soon enough, it was taken from his hands as quickly as it was given, Seungkwan clipping it to his belt. “You can go back to sleep,” he said with that same sweet smile, reaching out to brush at Hansol’s face again. This time, he wasn’t sure there was hair in the way. Must have been, though. “There’s food in the fridge if you want anything, and I left my number next to the bed. Text me later?”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” Seungkwan moved away then and walked out of the room without looking back. Before long, the front door opened and closed.
Hansol was left alone.
And he certainly could not stay. He couldn’t fathom that Seungkwan had just left him alone in his place to begin with, honestly. He was sweet. Maybe too sweet. Hansol was a little worried about that. But either way, it was wrong to stay.
He groaned and made himself sit up, stretching a bit before his eyes landed on the bedside table. On the gun.
He’d forgotten to clean it.
Hansol scowled to himself. He hated messing up routine, especially something like that. But it was still dark out. If he did it this morning, maybe it could still somewhat count. It wouldn’t feel right, though. It wouldn’t be before bed.
It wasn’t like he had brought any equipment with him last night, anyway. And Seungkwan probably didn’t want him cleaning it here. Probably hated guns. Hansol kind of hated them, too. He understood the necessity but-...
Ignoring that small bit of turmoil for now, Hansol pushed himself to swing his legs over the side of the bed, face falling into his hands with a deep sigh.
Fuck.
He could not tell Seungcheol about this.
—
“I slept with Seungkwan last night.”
Seungcheol choked on his milkshake.
There was no hope about keeping the situation to himself, really. He had to tell Seungcheol. He just hadn’t really known how to do it. And something about that indecision must have translated to him acting strangely. Seungcheol only brought someone out one-on-one for burgers and milkshakes when he wanted them to open up.
That was how Seungcheol liked to talk to people about something serious. He was all about letting the others come to him, giving them room to think through what needed to be said. Jeonghan liked being blunt, to the point, even if his way of speaking sometimes felt like going in circles.
So, Hansol knew why they were out here, parked in the corner of the lot, burgers in laps and Seungcheol trying to breathe next to him. He just figured he’d go ahead and get it out of the way.
And speaking of- “I was not stalking him,” Hansol rushed to clarify. “I looked him up, you know that I looked him up, but I didn’t start following him around or something. I found him at that bar downtown. The old one? He was there with other people. I wasn’t stalking him. We just started talking and he wanted a ride and I took him into the hills but then he invited me back to his place and-”
“Oh my God, stop, please, fuck-” Strangled, Seungcheol took a big gulp of his milkshake before taking a deep breath. The two of them sat quietly for a second, before Seungcheol let out a sigh. “Hansol-”
“It wasn’t my intention,” Hansol continued. “I didn’t mean to do it.”
“You didn’t mean to sleep with him?”
“Well, I- Not that part. You know what I meant.”
Seungcheol was scrubbing a hand over his face like he didn’t know at all what Hansol meant. “You can’t-” Another pause. Seungcheol dropped his hand against the steering wheel. “I can’t tell you what to do. I won’t tell you what to do. But Hansol, do you understand the levels that you’re messing with right now?”
Hansol blinked and didn’t react, unsure if they were on the same page. Seungcheol always explained, anyway. No use in trying to beat him to it.
Predictably, Seungcheol shook his head with a furrowed brow, but continued in an even and steady voice. “Hoshi was just shot in broad daylight right on the street. Our enemies are getting bolder, Hansol, and things are starting to come to a head. The situation is more heated now than it’s ever been before. I like Seungkwan and DK, but the shit they’re doing- They’re going to end up dead one way or another, maybe sooner rather than later. And all of this? You and him? Seungkwan is one emergency call away from a hostage situation. Do you understand that?”
Hansol looked Seungcheol over before his eyes glanced away to the car’s dash. Then he looked down at the burger in his lap, still in the packaging. There was only one path this conversation seemed to be going in, but he didn’t know why it would go there. So he went with the only question he could gather from this, the only one to help him get a grasp on what Seungcheol was trying to say.
He looked back to him, meeting his eye. “Are you questioning my loyalty?” Because that felt like the implication. That Hansol was compromising himself. That something would happen to Seungkwan, and Hansol would… react accordingly.
But Seungcheol knew him better than that. Hansol liked to believe that he did, anyway.
Seungcheol looked in his eyes for a moment, gaze unwavering, before he licked his lip and relaxed his shoulders. “No. Of course not.”
Then, no. Hansol didn’t understand. He shook his head, glancing back down between them again, down to their melting milkshakes. “Seungkwan’s… good. He’s passionate, and he cares about people. He’s a genuinely good person. I even grilled him a little last night, and all he really honestly wants is to help people.”
He looked back to Seungcheol again, catching his gaze, hoping the other man understood him, at the very least. “But he’s nobody. The family is all there is. I’m loyal to the family.”
The answer didn’t seem to appease him much. Seungcheol’s eyes stayed on him before slowly falling away. He looked… tired. Maybe disappointed. “Back when we first started saying words like that, I thought you knew what they meant more than any of us. And now-... I’m worried about you, Hansol.” When nothing else came, Seungcheol sighed and looked at him again. “I’d never question your loyalty to this family, but I’m worried about your loyalty to yourself.”
Hansol frowned and shook his head. “I am the family. I’m loyal to the family.”
Again, the answer didn’t appear to be good enough. But Seungcheol let out a deep breath and nodded once, giving up. “Are you going to see him again?”
No use in lying. “Yes.”
Another pause, another nod down to the forgotten burger. “Eat your food.”
And the matter was dropped.
—
Over the next two weeks, Hansol got to see Seungkwan another five times. And everything was pretty great. Well, aside from the times he was unable to properly clean his guns, but he was slowly becoming more and more okay with that.
In fact, it was going so well that he even considered asking Seungkwan if he could just do it at his place. Maybe he wouldn’t mind too much.
The others didn’t seem to mind what he was getting up to, either. Granted, most probably didn’t know the details, but he was aware how word spread under their roof. They wouldn’t even give him a second glance when he would leave at strange hours without a reason.
Or maybe they did watch him. He hadn’t really been paying attention, if he were honest, but he did catch Seungcheol looking at him sometimes with a weird expression. Something tired, Hansol thought. Maybe it was unrelated, though.
Hansol finally got to properly see Seungkwan’s apartment, too. It was small, clean, organized, kind of just what he imagined. There were pictures on a shelf in the hallway, some of young women, some of the ocean, from Jeju perhaps. Some had a small dog in them.
“Bookeu,” Seungkwan elaborated, catching him being nosy. “He’s supposedly mine, but my sister looks after him. Can you imagine a dog trying to live with me?”
Hansol couldn’t, but he didn’t say that.
Seungkwan’s schedule was weird, as advertised. The hours he worked were long and strange, leaving Hansol to wonder when he found the time to sleep. It seemed like if he wasn’t working, they were together.
The answer seemed to be energy drinks and caffeine, though, as Seungkwan seemed to have an endless supply. Once, Hansol found the gumption to scrunch his nose up after witnessing Seungkwan inhaling his second energy drink in about the same amount of hours. “You know, that stuff is terrible for your cardiovascular health.”
“Shut up and blow me,” Seungkwan had replied.
Hansol figured Seungkwan had the most medical knowledge out of the two of them, so Hansol shrugged and did as told.
He hadn’t forgotten the promise he said in passing on their first night. Hansol was still very much determined to do everything to Seungkwan. And the list was long, ever growing. Thankfully, Seungkwan seemed to have the same amount of interest in him, both of them on the same page about whatever this was.
“Do I have to teach you how to stitch wounds properly?” Seungkwan asked one mid-morning between his shifts, Hansol lounging on his stomach after another round of The Best Sex Of His Life, feeling pretty fingertips trace something old and sensitive near his hip. Kind of tickled. “A stab wound?” Seungkwan guessed correctly. Impressive. “It looks like someone patched you up with a staple gun.”
“They might have,” Hansol had murmured back, too relaxed to move. “I was unconscious. Don’t remember.”
Seungkwan hadn’t asked anything else about the scar, but Hansol learned that he was pretty killer at lower back massages.
So, yeah. All in all? Pretty great.
Until the text.
EMT boo seungkwan [18:12]
can’t tonight
There was a first time for everything, Seungkwan cancelling on their plans being included. But Hansol didn’t like his schedules being fucked with. He scowled down at the phone, quick to type a reply.
vernon [18:12]
everything okay?
He waited a moment, staring at the chat bubbles, but his message was being left on read.
Nothing.
He waited… and tossed his phone down on the sofa beside him. That’s fine. It’s fine. He wasn’t going to get all upset over cancelled plans. It didn’t bother him this much when someone would cancel on him for something else, but there was still something to be said about routine-
His phone chimed.
Hansol snatched it up and read the text.
EMT boo seungkwan [18:15]
work stuff, it’s fine
just want to shower, inhale something that looks edible, and pass out
He hadn’t expected much of an explanation, the second text a complete surprise. Hansol blinked at his phone, pretending to think it over for no other reason than to say he did. Then he stood up and grabbed the keys to his bike.
vernon [18:15]
you like jokbal?
“Hansol?”
He waved at Seungcheol and Wonwoo as he was walking out the door, not looking up from his phone. “Be home later, hyung.”
No one called after him. His phone chimed again once he was outside.
EMT boo seungkwan [18:16]
not in the mood for sex
vernon [18:16]
wasn’t asking about sex. I was asking about jokbal.
Hansol pocketed his phone and climbed on his bike, starting the engine.
He was already at one of his favorite little dinners, waiting on his order when another text finally came in.
EMT boo seungkwan [18:31]
fine. but no funny business.
Hansol smiled.
vernon [18:31]
they removed my funny bone when I was a kid
He managed to get the food and was getting back on his bike when another text was sent.
EMT boo seungkwan [18:36]
you think youre so fucking hilarious dont you
Hansol did, but he didn’t respond. He pocketed the phone again and started the bike.
Oddly enough, he managed to get to Seungkwan’s apartment first. Hansol long since memorized the code, so he let himself inside without much thought, setting the food on Seungkwan’s kind of sad looking dinner table for two.
Without managing to feel some kind of way about it, Hansol no longer minded being alone in Seungkwan’s apartment, even if he still kind of thought it was an abuse of trust. But one day, he accidentally fell back asleep after Seungkwan left for work before the ass crack of dawn, and Hansol had been more comfortable with the place ever since.
At the moment, he was busy staring down at the black screen of his phone, waiting for another text or something, just hoping for a sign from Seungkwan. Then a beeping at the door’s lock, familiar numbers being pressed in, and Hansol tensed. He watched the door, his gun’s heavy weight pressing into his ribs, staying still even as the lock released. The door opened.
Seungkwan stepped in and froze.
Hansol’s tension immediately evaporated. Of course, it was Seungkwan. “Hi.” Then he blinked and really got a look at him.
“Hi,” Seungkwan huffed back, a shadow of a smile hinted on his lips before fading away, the door shutting behind him. His hair looked damp like he’d just gotten out of a shower, backpack and jacket bunched up in one hand and dropped against the wall. The equipment usually decorating his belt was gone. There were shadows beneath his eyes.
Something was wrong.
Seungkwan stepped inside, eyes finding the table. “That for me?” Another ghost of a smile on his lips, not reaching his dull eyes.
Hansol dropped his phone onto the table, scrambling for the bag. “Yeah.” He began to take out the containers, setting them on the opposite side of the table from himself, opening the boxes as Seungkwan took a seat. He didn’t put anything in front of himself. Suddenly wasn’t hungry.
Seungkwan didn’t mention it or even really notice. He didn’t fuss about the cost of the food. Didn’t fuss about the quality of Hansol’s gift. Didn’t fuss about him not eating with him. He simply grabbed a pair of chopsticks and slowly took a bite. “Thanks.”
Hansol didn’t respond.
Seungkwan didn’t seem to notice that either.
Hansol didn’t know what the fuck to do. Should he ask what happened? Should he let Seungkwan have this meal without thinking about it? He wasn’t like Seungcheol, who knew how to be around people and let them open up on their own. He wasn’t like Jeonghan, who knew all the right questions to ask. Hansol wasn’t the type to be good at helping others. Wonwoo said that his presence alone helped. Woozi said that his logical reasoning helped. Chan said he was no help at all.
Hansol picked at his fingernail. He didn’t know what the fuck to do.
In the time it took for his crisis to begin, Seungkwan had stopped eating. He had maybe three bites in all, now just slowly pushing his food around, watching it with a dead stare.
Hansol looked between Seungkwan and the table a few times, as if a sign would simply appear.
Then, in an exhausted voice, Seungkwan asked, “Do you believe in God?”
Oh.
This was so fucking bad.
He didn’t know what the needed answer here was or if there even was a correct answer. So Hansol licked his lips and shot for the truth. “Not really.”
Seungkwan said nothing for a moment nor did he react, like Hansol hadn’t said anything at all. He simply watched his plate, even his movements slowly coming to halt. “I’m not sure if it was the Christians or someone else who claimed this, but they say that God only helps those who help themselves.”
Pause.
Hansol watched Seungkwan.
Seungkwan twirled a chopstick between his fingers. “People with my job help everyone, regardless,” he continued. “What does that make me in comparison, I wonder?”
Fuck all these self-conscious circles he was putting himself through. “What happened?”
Seungkwan blinked and seemed to come back to himself a little. But instead of looking at Hansol, he just shut his eyes and shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
A tiny smile, a tiny gift, there and gone again. “A four car pile-up on the highway,” Seungkwan finally elaborated. “No one died. A couple were hurt pretty badly, though. All because some guy was being fucking stupid.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, his head bowing but his eyes opening again. “Sorry. I always get like this when kids are involved.”
Oh.
Hansol pinched at the plastic take out bag over and over, chewing on his bottom lip while he watched Seungkwan just sit there in silence. Not for the first time, he wondered about Seungkwan’s sanity, a little concerned about however much self-preservation was there.
So he shook his head and finally asked, “Why did you want this job in the first place?” Because if a wreck with no fatalities got him down this bad, how did he even manage to claw his way to this point?
Seeming non-pulsed by the question, Seungkwan let out a slow breath, the chopstick twirling and twirling between his fingers. “When I was a kid, some friends and I were walking back from school, when a man suddenly fell off a three-story roof… They say time sort of slows down when you witness something like that, but it didn’t really. It just… happened.” Seungkwan shrugged. “We lived in town, so paramedics were there almost immediately. They weren’t freaking out or panicking. They just went to work. And they were so smooth with everything, you know? Giving orders, handing things to one another, basically seamless. I’d never seen anything like it.”
“They saved him?”
“No.”
Hansol flattened a hand over his knee.
Seungkwan just shrugged again. “Looking back, knowing what I know now, there was nothing they could do. They must have known that the second they saw him. But they didn’t give up. They did everything they could think of, and only stopped when there was no other choice. When it was over, they got quiet, just standing over this man none of them knew… And I thought that I would like it if strangers were that kind to me someday, too...”
Suddenly, Seungkwan stood and marched past Hansol, straight to the kitchen. “Do you want a drink?” The fridge door opened.
Hansol hated shit like this. Ignoring obvious things in favor of- of some kind of polite decorum or something. Seungkwan was crying, and now it was on him to pretend he didn’t know. He fucking hated it. He wanted to stand and walk up behind Seungkwan, to wrap him in his arms and kiss the tears on his cheeks, murmur softly into his hair until Seungkwan was fussing at him to stop.
Instead, Hansol stayed seated. “I’m fine.”
The fridge door closed, and Hansol glanced over his shoulder. Seungkwan’s back was still to him as he sipped from a water bottle. Then he seemed to take a deep breath, brushing a hand over his eyes.
Hansol looked back down at the table.
Without another pause, footsteps passed him by and Seungkwan sat back down. There was a little smile again on his lips, again not reaching his eyes. But he picked the chopsticks up again and waved in Hansol’s general direction with barely a glance. “Eat something. I can’t put all of this down.”
Hansol picked up a pair of chopsticks and did. He didn’t eat much, intentionally leaving the vast majority for Seungkwan. It seemed that once he got into the rhythm, he was able to put down his own portion, after all, and Hansol found himself a bit pleased by that. Seungkwan wasn’t himself again yet, but a full stomach was probably a good start.
It wasn’t until he was putting away their empty containers that he panicked again. Seungkwan had said no sex, and Hansol had to agree that the vibes just weren’t there. But that meant he had to leave soon, and leaving meant Seungkwan being alone with this dull look in his eyes and memories of hurt kids.
Fuck. Fuck.
“That was good,” Seungkwan sighed after the last bite, a little color back to his skin that Hansol hadn’t even realized was missing. “Thanks for the meal.”
He meant to say “you’re welcome” or “anytime” or something remotely normal. “Can I stay tonight?” is what he said instead.
And predictably, deserved, Seungkwan gave him an eye. A warning, perhaps, definitely something distasteful, something disappointed. “I told you-”
“Not for that,” Hansol quickly interrupted. “Just to sleep.”
Seungkwan kept staring, but that disappointed look wasn’t there anymore. Maybe it was more confusion. Maybe it was something else. Either way, if Seungkwan told him to leave, Hansol would. He just figured it’d be difficult to walk out that door without even asking first.
After a stretched moment, Seungkwan seemed to sigh with his whole body before slowly rising, like he’d aged thirty years over the last two minutes. He walked by Hansol, heading for the hallway, but stopped. Turned. “Why did you react that way when Soonyoung was shot?”
Hansol… blinked. “What?”
“You were very-” Seungkwan motioned his hand between them, apparently searching for the words. “-calm. You were… not really panicked, considering how much of his blood was on that concrete.”
Oh. Hansol… just shrugged. “When you guys pulled up, I knew he had his best chance. I knew he’d be okay. I wasn’t worried.”
Seungkwan stared at him in silence for a moment, maybe assessing, maybe thinking back. Whatever was going through his head, he eventually shut his eyes and turned back down the hall. “I sleep better with someone, anyway,” he said casually, not looking back.
Hansol stood and followed without a word.
Things were going a bit differently tonight. Routines changed based on the intentional use of the bed, Hansol figured. Normally, they were a whirlwind of limbs, falling into bed together, ruining the perfectly crisp sheets immediately, thoughts of sleep far from their minds.
Tonight… it was about placing his gun carefully in its usual place beside the blue and purple lava lamp. It was about Seungkwan going through all of those jars by his bathroom sink that Hansol had been curious about, assuming they were for something medical only to now see the other man rubbing the creamy contents into his skin. It was about Hansol sitting at the foot of the bed, watching Seungkwan go through this routine he must do every night in private, while Seungkwan completely ignored his existence to simply let him watch as he pleased.
When Seungkwan was done and the jars had clinked back to their proper places, he returned to the bedroom and spared Hansol a glance. “Do you want something to sleep in?”
They had this conversation on their first three nights together. Every night, Hansol would throw the question back, ask Seungkwan what he preferred out of him, and Seungkwan always had the same answer. Again, the vibes were certainly different, but Hansol wondered if some things didn’t change. “I’m good,” he said as he stood and finally began to strip. “Thanks.”
Hansol figured that if Seungkwan had a problem with it, then he’d push the issue, but no words came. Hansol kept his boxers on, anyway.
Then they climbed into bed together on their respective sides, and Seungkwan immediately curled around him like it was their normal. To be fair, it kind of was, but Hansol was still surprised by the ease of it. Surprised and… pleased. Just a bit.
No words were shared. Usually, they might mutter something to one another. Maybe about Seungkwan’s work schedule in the morning or a passing question. Tonight, it was quiet, and the tension in Seungkwan’s shoulders sat for a moment longer than normal before finally melting.
Seungkwan seemed to have a knack for falling asleep quickly. Hansol did, too, when he wanted to. Tonight, his mind was full to the brim of weird thoughts and feelings, trying to parse it all out and make sense of everything. The evening hadn’t gone as initially expected, obviously, but curveballs like that always managed to make him spiral a little until he could re-center himself. He was not a stranger to these spirals and curveballs, but tonight’s was particularly… complicated.
His thoughts were interrupted by Seungkwan’s even breaths against his jaw and some light twitching in the fingers resting over his chest. Hansol took his hand, trying to steady him. When that made little difference, his palm found the side of Seungkwan’s head, his hand looking strangely large in his hair like this, trying to shield his eyes from any unwanted light that could possibly interrupt him in this dark room.
Hansol’s eyes darted to the gun on the bedside table and then to the door, both of which seemed very far away and far too close. Then his eyes fell to the window across the room, only darkness and the city’s glow meeting him. He looked down at Seungkwan and back to the door again.
There was a tightness in his chest. Something stirring there, something faintly resembling what he felt for his family sometimes. But this something was powerful, promising to be all-consuming. It was something raw and taunt and painful and broken. Something angry. Something… scared.
His fingers lightly carded through Seungkwan’s hair.
Hansol watched the doorway until he inevitably fell asleep.
—
Hansol liked patterns. He liked routine. So when Seungkwan seemed to be back to himself pretty fast, he was happy again. Everything was back to being great. Hansol was again considering bringing up the topic of cleaning his guns. And Seungkwan, of course, was as sexy and easy as ever.
The only problem Hansol faced was his list, his promise, sex god and all that. Everything to Seungkwan. As he marked things off, the number on his list would just multiply, never ending. Granted, they hadn’t really gotten out of vanilla sex just yet, but there was so much he wanted-
Like now, as he watched his dick disappear inside of Seungkwan’s incredible ass, fucking him hard just the way Seungkwan liked, while the other man’s beautiful back arched for him. Seungkwan had started out on all fours, wanting it from behind, but he’d long since lost the strength to hold himself up, arms giving out while his hands were scrambling for purchase anywhere they could find.
Hansol wasn’t going to help him. His hands were gripping too hard into Seungkwan’s hips, likely to leave bruises again, one releasing only long enough to slap at the perfect globe of Seungkwan’s ass cheek just to watch it bounce.
Seungkwan’s whines immediately hit a higher pitch, curses and pleas and “Vernon, Vernon, Vernon” only getting louder.
Hansol spanked him again.
“Fuck! Vernon, don’t stop, don’t staah-” His hole got instantly tighter, Seungkwan screaming beneath him.
Hansol curled his fingers into soft flesh, groaning loud as he finally came. They were still using condoms, another topic that Hansol had yet to breach, but he could imagine otherwise for now. Catching his breath, he leaned forward, carefully pulling out and slowly falling to the side, barely having enough mind to tuck an arm around Seungkwan’s waist to nudge him out of the wet spot.
Seungkwan had the incredible foresight to put a towel down on the bed first. Hansol kind of thought he was a genius. He could probably do whatever he wanted. Go to space or breed new strains of plants or solve some math problem no one’s ever figured out. Something crazy like that. Seungkwan just hadn’t told anyone he was secretly a genius because all he really wanted was to help strangers.
Hansol’s mind had been getting a little warbly after sex lately. He let out a deep breath and opened his eyes, trying to let his thoughts settle back down again. And even from this view, staring at the back of Seungkwan’s neck in the afternoon light, sweaty, hair a mess- Without even looking at his face, it was easy to see how beautiful he was.
Usually, after one round, they tended to stop for the night. It was mostly due to Seungkwan’s hectic schedule and the inevitable exhaustion that would hit him post-orgasm. Hansol hadn’t so much as asked before or even shown interest in more. Probably should.
He grazed his teeth over Seungkwan’s shoulder before kissing the cooling skin, sucking a mark there.
Seungkwan huffed a laugh. “You aren’t tired?”
Hansol moved lower, scooting down the bed and maneuvering Seungkwan by the hips until the other was on his back, opening his legs so smoothly for him.
Even though his body was pliant, Seungkwan huffed again, less of a laugh this time. “I’m tired, you perverted maniac-”
Hansol gently sucked one of Seungkwan’s balls into his mouth.
But Seungkwan hissed and jolted. “Hey!” He swatted Hansol lightly on the back of the head, and Hansol removed his mouth from his person. “One of these days, you need to tell me your full name so I can scold you properly.”
Hansol bit his pretty thigh in response.
Seungkwan swatted at him again. But then… he began to laugh. High giggles, a little like their first night together. “Vernon!” Seungkwan covered his face with one hand, a blush crossing his cheeks, smile wide. “You’re such a wild animal! You’re- You-”
Hansol wasn’t sure when he stopped biting Seungkwan, but he was currently crawling over top of him to see his laugh up close. And when Seungkwan took his hand away to look at him, his laughter only seemed to get worse.
Hansol kissed him. The room fell into some semblance of calm for a second, the giggles dying against his lips. Hands found his scalp. Seungkwan’s smile too wide to kiss deeply. Hansol pulled away, but the laughter didn’t come back. Only Seungkwan’s bright smile remained, soft lips swollen, hair in all directions, sunlight glowing on his skin.
Ethereal.
Perfect.
Hansol felt himself smiling back.
Seungkwan pulled him down for another kiss, and Hansol wondered if telling Seungkwan his name would really be such a terrible idea.
—
Back when they first began, whenever Seventeen made a move, it was either in preparation or defense. They hadn’t wanted to cause problems, after all. They only wanted things to go back to how they were before.
The event horizon had passed them by at some point. There was no going back now, only forward. Their home had grown too large, their enemies had grown too strong, and Seventeen had been forced to keep up or die.
There was something to be said about moving on offense. Hansol always thought it was the best move they could possibly make. Handle the situation before there was a situation to begin with. Nip the problem in the bud and there wouldn’t be a problem. It just made sense.
Joshua used to tell him that he was cold for it. Hansol didn’t really think himself cold. There were just things that needed to be done, and they were the ones there to do them. Simple.
Somehow… it didn’t feel that simple anymore…
For some reason… with every shot he fired, he thought of Seungkwan…
Seungkwan, who wanted to help everyone and anyone that needed it. Seungkwan, who worked himself tirelessly for people who wouldn’t even care to remember his name. Seungkwan, who Hansol had just made more work for, who would be at the scene soon if he wasn’t already, who would see the bodies and know that Hansol had a hand in it.
The reasons on his shoulders from just an hour ago didn’t seem to matter much anymore. The details, the technicalities-... Would they matter to Seungkwan? Should they?
Hansol wasn’t breathing right. Too ragged, too heavy. His hands were shaking. His hands never shook after a hit before. Was it really about the hit, though?
He didn’t realize he sent a text until he pressed send.
vernon [00:16]
we need to meet as soon as you can
When Seungkwan was working, his texts were few and far between. Hansol knew he was working tonight.
The text came in immediately.
EMT boo seungkwan [00:16]
are you hurt?
Seungkwan did know that he had been there, then.
Hansol swallowed hard, dry.
vernon [00:16]
no
EMT boo seungkwan [00:16]
your friends? the others?
vernon [00:17]
no one’s hurt. they’re okay
but we need to meet
we need to talk
EMT boo seungkwan [00:17]
where?
Hansol sent the address of a nearby safe house, something nondescript, something out of the way.
EMT boo seungkwan [00:17]
20 mins
Sooner than he expected. Hansol pocketed his phone and stood from the spot on the floor he’d sunken into, headed for the door-
Seungcheol grabbed his arm. “No one’s leaving.”
The others were gathered around in the common area, too. They each handled this sort of thing in their own way, mostly by pretending everything was normal, but it didn’t hide the fact that they were all tense. And staying together after such a job was always the unspoken rule.
Hansol could feel every eye on him. He spoke low, only loud enough for Seungcheol to hear. “I have to go see him.”
“Absolutely not.” Seungcheol made no such adjustments to his volume. “Sit your ass back down. No one’s-”
“I’m ending it,” Hansol told him straight, looking him in the eye. “I have to go.”
Seungcheol had frozen at the words, staring back with a glare, hand tense, jaw tense, a warning woven into every fiber. And for a second, Hansol knew that he was going to turn him around, tell him that he can damn well speak to Seungkwan later.
But he released him. “I’m tracking your phone. If you go more than a mile, I’m coming after you. Do not make me go after you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ll be back under this roof by dawn, you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get out.”
Hansol did. He stumbled out into the crisp night air and avoided the garage entirely, making for the path behind the house, moving in silence.
He got to the safe house first, unsurprisingly. It was nothing much to speak of, just an old apartment in an unused lot that someone in Mingyu’s family owned. There was no furniture, the wallpaper was peeling, wires stuck out of the baseboard where a stove used to be. There was a wire rack full of ammunition and food, though. Hansol clicked on a portable lantern, lighting the room up, before leaning against the wall and attempting to breathe.
He had to get his head on straight. He had to be solid when Seungkwan came by. He couldn’t give shit away… But he didn’t even know what he was trying to hide. Seungkwan knew who he was, had always known.
Then Hansol’s hands stopped shaking and clarity washed over him for the first time in months.
What in the fuck were they doing?
No. Really.
What in the fuck had they been doing?
It had barely been ten minutes when the knob turned and the door suddenly burst open. Hansol had a hand on his gun in a heartbeat, but it was only Seungkwan who had rushed in, the door slamming shut behind him. His hair was windswept, sweat clinging to his furrowed brow, dark stains on the rolled up sleeves of his pullover, hands and wrists bare, a blue duffle over his shoulder. His stride was ground-eating, getting across the room and to Hansol in two steps, eyes not even meeting his as they danced over his body. Not in the hungry way Hansol had become accustomed to. It was assessing, scrutinizing, flicking from one limb to another- “What’s wrong?”
And Hansol wanted to kiss him. He wanted to take his face between his hands and push him against the opposite wall, kiss him until he fussed and protested, swatting Hansol on the back of the head, calling him a maniac again. An animal. A demon. A monster.
Oh.
Fuck.
Hansol didn’t move. “I’m not hurt.”
“That’s blood on you.”
Hansol looked down at himself, at his black t-shirt. There was blood there, but he didn’t think someone could see. He didn’t think Seungkwan could. It wasn’t even much. He looked back to Seungkwan again. “It’s not mine.” And because he couldn’t keep playing the back and forth. “You know I was there.”
Seungkwan’s eyes flashed, a glare meeting his gaze. “I don’t know shit,” he hissed out. “Don’t say things like that.”
Was it because Seungkwan didn’t want to believe it? Or because he didn’t want to be an accessory to a case? Hansol wasn’t sure. It really didn’t matter.
He straightened his spine, hoping that same cold look Joshua used to talk about was in his eyes now. “This is the last time we’re meeting.”
“You’re running?”
Yes… No- What? Hansol shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. You and I are done. We’re through.”
Something serious cleared out of Seungkwan’s features, and he stared at Hansol blankly for a long time. The silence stretched thin, Seungkwan blinking at him. Then… Hansol could see it. The confusion before swiftly dipping straight into rage. “You texted me to meet after a fucking mass shooting three blocks away to tell me that!?”
Well. He supposed it was a bit of an inconvenience. “Yes.”
“Are you-” Seungkwan threw his hands in the air and quickly looked around the room like there was an audience, like there was an explanation painted on the walls. “Are you fucking stupid!?”
“Probably.”
Seungkwan didn’t hear him. “And you wanted to meet just to- Wha- Why are you-”
“I don’t know.”
“No, shut up! Tell me why!”
Oh, Seungkwan was very angry. He was really really fucking angry. Hansol blinked back. “We’re not really suited,” he said in a stilted voice, like he was trying to explain something complex and obvious to a child. Why is the sky blue? Why do fish swim? Why is Hansol breaking things off with the paramedic he’s been fucking? “My job is to make yours worse. You want to help people, and I’m-”
“No, stop,” Seungkwan waved a hand, pointing a deadly finger at him. “That’s bullshit. Try again.”
Okay. “It’s dangerous,” he tried again. “A lot of people want to get to me and my family, and you could be an opening. They’ll try to hurt you-”
“No.” Seungkwan cut his hand through the air like a blade. “I knew the mess I was getting into. I’m not fucking stupid, Vernon. Why are you doing this now? In the middle of the night, right after a shooting, when all we do is meet up for sex? You could have called me, texted me, ghosted me, but no. You wanted to meet while the fucking police are scattered all over the place. You wanted to do this right now and in-person. Tell me why.”
Because he wanted to see him again.
Just one last time.
The curved lines of his body, the sharp lines of his soul, the glow that followed him even in his anger, a blessing that stepped into Hansol’s life not for any service or deliverance but simply because the heaven’s parted and he happened to be in the same place Seungkwan touched down.
The wrong place.
Then Hansol blinked and realized that the glow had been all in his head.
Clarity.
“You’re nobody,” said a voice that sounded like his own. “The family is all that matters to me. You’re not in the family - you’re no one - and I don’t have to explain myself to you. We’re done.”
Silence. The anger in Seungkwan’s features seemed more muffled now, mute, simmering. There was surprise, Hansol thought. Surprise and something else. Something deep in his eyes.
Hansol didn’t look very hard.
Then- “Fine.” Seungkwan turned on his heel. The door opened. Slammed closed.
Hansol stayed there, staring into the place Seungkwan had been standing, counting in his head, focusing on how the numbers sounded, the shape of their slopes, visualizing them ticking up and up and up.
Somewhere after one hundred sixty, he left.
When he got back in the house, the common area was cleared out aside from one person. Seungcheol stood from the couch, not as tense as before, a sad arch to his brow. And he sighed. “I know this is hypocritical coming from me, but it was the right thing to do.”
Hansol wanted to punch him in the jaw, but he didn’t really feel like it. So he stared, debating the merits, before turning and walking up the stairs.
—
Every weapon in their armory was fucking spotless.
It had been a little less than two weeks since the last time Hansol had seen Seungkwan. He hadn’t really expected that to be the last time they met, assuming that they would cross paths again eventually, sparking something awkward and frustrated-
But no. Nothing so far.
Maybe it was a good thing that Hansol hadn’t needed to see any paramedics lately, though. It would normally be considered a good thing.
Hansol was fine, though, he was sure of it. He didn’t miss him. Maybe he missed the sex, but he didn’t miss Seungkwan. He didn’t. He couldn’t. He was fine. It was fine.
He would just-... If something happened. If something had to happen, if their paths had to cross. He wouldn’t mind seeing him again. He would like to. Maybe.
But it was fine.
He didn’t miss him.
It was for the best.
For the best.
“For the best-”
There were hands on him, scrambling, pawing at his clothes, tugging- “I can’t find his fucking phone!” Minghao’s voice.
Hansol blinked. He had to blink again, harder, to clear his vision a little. Everything had a reddish-pink hue to it. But Hansol was on the floor in the hall, propped against the wall and a couch. The side of his face felt wet. There was a lot of yelling. Screaming.
Oh.
Right.
He’d forgotten.
Woozi was shot.
Why did he forget that?
Hansol shut his eyes again, blinking-
“Fuck- Found it!” Minghao’s hand dug into the back pocket of his jeans, coming away with Hansol’s phone in his hand, quickly unlocking it with a passcode Hansol didn’t think he knew. But Hansol forgot that Woozi had just been shot, so maybe he didn’t know a lot of things.
Joshua appeared from the open doorway across the hall. The dining room. That’s where all the shouting was coming from, too. “Myungho-”
“He’s not answering!” Minghao shouted, taking the phone from his ear.
“Keep trying,” Joshua spoke in a deceptively calm voice that made the hair on Hansol’s neck stand on end. “He probably won’t the first few times. Just keep trying.”
Minghao did. And then he did it a third time.
Who were they trying to call?
Then Minghao gasped, lurched, and Joshua let out a tense breath. “Wait, wait, no, don’t hang up!” Minghao shouted into the phone. “Our friend was shot! We need help! We can’t call the emergency line. We-... What? Vernon? He has a head wound. I think it’s-... No, he’s awake. He never passed out. It’s just- What? … No, it’s someone else. He was shot in the stomach. We can’t- We need help!”
Hansol squinted at Minghao while he furiously shouted directions to their house. No one knew where they lived. Their home was both out in the open and the best kept secret they had. No one could know where they were. Who the fuck was he talking to?
But before he could figure anything out, Minghao had stood and left, disappearing into the dining room and shouting orders like he knew what he was talking about.
Hansol tried to crane his neck to follow, but Joshua crouched down into his line of sight. “Hey, don’t move too much.” The voice wasn’t as menacingly calm as before. Clearly nervous, even if it was hidden pretty deeply. Joshua’s hands were shaking a little, touching Hansol’s jaw, making him turn his head. “Let me look at it. Does it hurt?”
“Does what hurt?” Hansol’s voice felt hoarse-
Oh.
Oh, right.
Someone ran at him, tackled him, slammed him into a car.
Right.
He furrowed his brow, blinking hard again. “No- No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”
It stung like a motherfucker, but did it really count if Hansol was only just now feeling it? That was probably fine.
Joshua snapped his fingers in front of Hansol’s face. Annoying. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Two,” Hansol answered. Joshua adjusted. “Three. One- Stop fucking moving.”
“Here.” Joshua was a fashionable kind of guy. A little like Minghao, but Minghao liked Paris and Milan, that sort of stuff. Joshua was from the gold coast, early-2000’s America reeking off of him like he’d been dunked in a vat of Green Day and Avril. As such, he liked wearing layers, liked button-up plaids over solid tees, liked feeling younger than he was.
Now that plaid was off him and bundled up, pressed against the side of Hansol’s face that was wet and sticky. Smelled like vanilla beans and fresh bread.
Then Hansol- His eyes snapped wide, sitting up straight, hearing- “There’s a truck-”
But Joshua’s hands were pressing into his shoulders. “No, stay down-”
“They’re here!” Mingyu shouted from the dining room, rushing out and towards the back door in the kitchen. The truck had stopped right outside, Mingyu flinging the door open.
“EMS!” someone shouted.
“He’s in here!” Mingyu shouted back. He stepped away, holding the door open with one outstretched arm, watching something outside.
DK ran in first. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, no sunglasses on his head today. No smile either. He spared Hansol a glance, but Mingyu directed him to the dining room-
Then Seungkwan ran in, and Hansol stopped noticing everything else.
God.
Fuck.
Fuck.
It was wild. It was stupid. Seungkwan shouldn’t be more beautiful than he remembered. That made no sense. It had barely been two weeks. And why did he convince himself that the glow wasn’t real? Sunlight poured from the windows and straight to Seungkwan’s skin, attracted to him, light itself bending like moths to a flame. Resplendent. Was that a word? Hansol never gave that fucking word two thoughts before in his life but-
Seungkwan was looking at him. Standing in front of him. Touching him-
His hand was on Hansol’s jaw, tilting his head up, and Hansol couldn’t breathe. Then the hands moved to his face, steady, firm pressure, thumbs against his eyes-
Then Seungkwan spoke. “Did he black out?”
“No,” someone else answered. Joshua, maybe. “He was dizzy and confused, but he never passed out.”
“Seungkwan!” DK’s voice shouted out. “The bullet’s still in!”
The hands left, cold seeping in. “Keep pressure on it,” Seungkwan ordered, then turned his back, then walked away, then-
Hansol scrambled to follow. Joshua said something, pulled on him, but he was being too gentle to manhandle right now. Besides, Hansol stopped in the doorway, the scene in front of him being… a lot.
Woozi was on their large dining room table. The same one where he and Hansol ate cereal that morning. The chairs were flung aside, everything thrown off of the table, red-stained towels everywhere, their whole crew surrounding him.
“He hasn’t gone into shock,” DK said, and Hansol only just realized that the shouting had finally stopped. There was still some chaos, but it was controlled now, directions shot back and forth between their two paramedics, things exchanging hands-
Seungkwan said, “We need to get him in the truck.”
And Seungcheol replied, “No hospitals.”
Everything stopped.
Seungkwan, for the second time since Hansol met him, looked pissed. His gloved hands were pressing down into Woozi’s side, but his eyes were glaring holes into Seungcheol’s head. “He was shot. He needs a hospital.”
But Seungcheol shook his head. “They know they shot him. They’ll be waiting for us. It’s not like last time-”
“Oh, for the love of-!”
“He’s as good as dead if we go! We can’t go!”
Seungkwan looked away from him, his hand going to Woozi’s face, fingers snapping like Joshua had done to Hansol just a moment ago. “Jihoon, right? You listen to me, and I’m going to be straight with you, okay? If this bullet hit any of your organs, you’re going to go into shock. If we get the bullet out here and tear into one of your organs, you’re going to go into shock. From the placement of the wound, it probably hit your kidney or intestines, which means you already have sepsis and you’re going to go into shock. If you lose any more blood than you already have, then you’re going to go into shock. Do you understand me? If we don’t get you to a hospital right now, then chances are much higher that you’re going to die. Do you hear me?”
Woozi was pale, his chest rising high with each breath, but there was a determined set to his jaw, a fire in his eyes. And in a low voice, he repeated, “No hospitals.”
A part of Hansol kind of wanted to grab him by the ankle and drag him out to the ambulance, but he didn’t move. No one moved.
Seungkwan glared down at him, then glanced at Seungcheol, then DK. The latter subtly shook his head. Seungkwan looked back down to Woozi. “We’re taking the bullet out.”
DK grabbed a chair from the corner, dragging it over and throwing his bag down on top of it, practically ripping it open and pulling things out, setting them on the table beside Woozi’s head.
“Someone give him something to bite down on!” Seungkwan shouted into the crowd, one hand pressing down on a towel over Woozi’s side, the other grabbing at the things DK had laid out, pulling some of them closer to himself. “A belt or something! Leather!”
Something was passed around, Jun handing it to Seungcheol, Seungcheol putting it between Woozi’s teeth.
Hansol tried to step closer, but Joshua wrapped an arm around his chest, pulling him back, finally manhandling.
Seungkwan picked up a syringe- an injector pen. He pulled the cap off with his teeth and removed the towel, jabbing it down several times around the bullet hole as more thick blood started to pour out.
DK was holding something that looked like long tweezers, pouring alcohol over it and all across the floor. “Can you tell the angle?”
Seungkwan spat the cap out. “No.” He took the bottle, pouring more alcohol over the wound. “Jihoon, I don’t know where the bullet is. I’m going to have to feel around for it. You understand?”
Woozi nodded.
Seungkwan glanced around the room. “Hold him down! Keep his legs down! Don’t let him move.” Jun, Wonwoo, and Mingyu rushed to obey. Most of the others stayed back, watching like Hansol. Seungcheol grabbed Woozi’s hand.
A radio crackled to life. DK pressed a button on the receiver on his shoulder, silencing it, and pulled out a flashlight.
Seungkwan took the tweezers and adjusted his stance, while DK shined the light over his head. “Try not to move, and relax as much as you can.”
Woozi nodded again.
No countdown. No warning. Seungkwan pressed the tweezers into the wound, and Jihoon instantly tried to jolt off the table, a muffled shout ringing out. But the others held him fast, and Seungkwan didn’t pause.
Hansol began to count, focusing on how the numbers sounded. Shape of their slopes. Two… Three… Four… Seungkwan cursed beneath his breath. Six…
“I found it! Hold on- I got it!” Seungkwan took his time removing the bullet, going careful and slow. But then he- “It’s out! It’s out.” He dropped a piece of metal against Woozi’s thigh. “Jihoon, you still with me?”
Woozi didn’t respond, eyes screwed shut, tears along his face, biting into the belt-
“He’s awake,” Seungcheol answered, his own face looking pained, the hand locked in Woozi’s grip long since gone white.
DK adjusted the flashlight. “I don’t smell anything.”
“Me either,” Seungkwan murmured back. “Let’s pack it just in case.”
“Yeah.” The flashlight fell away, DK turning back to the bag and laying out an astounding amount of gauze and bandages and wraps and-
Mingyu leaned away from Woozi’s legs, eyeing what they were doing. “Will he be okay?”
Seungkwan took a deep breath and looked up to Woozi’s face, but the other still had his eyes shut. “We’re not going to suture the wound yet. In case there’s more internal damage, we’re going to pack it and let it heal from the inside out.”
“But he’ll be okay, right?”
“Mingyu-” Seungcheol gave a warning hiss.
DK stopped and turned his eyes on Mingyu, features more sincere than what Seungkwan seemed. “We’re going to do everything we can for him.”
Seungkwan had taken some long stretches of thin gauze, folding it and stuffing it inside the bullet hole. “My shift had less than an hour left,” he muttered to DK.
“Mine, too,” the other replied.
And Mingyu looked like he was about to fight. “You’re not leaving him like this! What the fuck?”
Seungcheol snapped, “Mingyu!”
“We’re not leaving!” Seungkwan shouted, barely glancing at Mingyu before turning his eyes on Seungcheol, letting DK take over the packing. “We want permission to stay and watch over him, if you’re all still hellbent on not going to a hospital.”
Seungcheol seemed… surprised. They all did. But he came back to himself enough to nod. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
“Call it in,” Seungkwan told DK, taking over. “I’ve got this.”
“Don’t tell them where we are,” Seungcheol said.
DK stared at him while taking a glove off, not replying before he grabbed at the receiver on his jacket, talking into it fast, saying a bunch of numbers, using words like ‘field surgery’ and other kinds of terrifying things. The radio crackled when he was done, a response coming in, but Hansol wasn’t listening.
Seungkwan had gotten scissors from somewhere, snipping the end of the gauze off and pressing a bandage on top, focused and steady.
Resplendent.
But then DK was done talking, and Seungkwan nodded in Hansol’s direction. “Take a look at the one in the hall. Head wound, probable concussion, says he didn’t black out.”
DK’s eyes fell on Hansol, very much not in the hall. But he said, “Yeah,” and moved in his direction, gently taking his arm. “Let’s sit you down over here. Come on.”
Hansol was pulled to the couch, out of the room, away from the others, away from Seungkwan.
DK knelt in front of him, shining a light into his eyes. “Vernon, right?”
Did Seungkwan talk about him?
… Probably not.
“That’s me.”
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
—
They had gotten a backboard out of the ambulance and were able to move Woozi to one of the downstairs bedrooms without much of a fuss. It was technically Seungcheol’s room, or it was once, but now it was sparse with just a bed and dresser against the wall. Chan had dragged in a few chairs, but it still felt pretty lacking despite the crowd.
It wasn’t long after Woozi was settled that Seungkwan and DK suddenly entered a heated match of Rock Paper Scissors. And after about five rounds of that in complete silence, they both heaved a deep sigh.
“Okay.” DK rubbed at the back of his head, looking between Seungkwan and Woozi. “Let’s get whatever we’ll need out of the truck, and I’ll come back in my car. I’ll bring your stuff.”
They had walked outside together, a few of the others following at their heels with questions on their tongues. Hansol just watched them leave, keeping his questions to himself. But hardly a minute later, Seungkwan returned with an extra bag and without DK. The truck started up outside.
And that’s where they had been for the last half hour. Most people had scattered under the pretense of letting Woozi get some kind of rest since he finally managed to fall asleep. Seungcheol was sitting in a chair on his right side, Jeonghan massaging the hand that Woozi had crushed earlier. Seungkwan sat on the left, elbows braced on his knees, head bowed forward, staring at Woozi, silent.
Hansol sat outside the room, watching Seungkwan.
Ages ago, DK had glued his wound shut, asking if he wanted to go to the hospital and not being surprised when Hansol said no. He was under orders to not fall asleep for a while. Hansol had no intention to do so. Not with Seungkwan in their house. Absolutely impossible.
No one had really spoken to Seungkwan until Mingyu eventually sat beside him, a soda in his hand and an apology on his lips. Seungkwan glanced back and gave him a tight smile and an ‘it’s okay’ and a ‘thank you’ and he took the drink-
And Hansol wanted to punch Mingyu in the eye, grab him by the hair-
He yelled at Seungkwan. He didn’t get to apologize.
But Hansol didn’t move. Everyone had gone quiet again, anyway.
A car drove up, Minghao and Hoshi darting to the windows, but Hansol still didn’t move. Not even when they ran to the kitchen and opened the door. Not even when another voice entered with a quiet laugh, “You guys are too jumpy.”
DK appeared around the corner, no jacket or radios, a different shirt on, and two backpacks slung across each shoulder. His eyes met Hansol’s, but he turned and walked into the bedroom instead, setting one of the bags beside Seungkwan. “Anything?”
“Not yet,” Seungkwan responded quietly. Woozi didn’t stir. “He’s been lucky so far.”
“We’ll keep that ball rolling,” DK said with a smile, squeezing Seungkwan by the shoulder. But there was something about his smile. Something placating maybe. Something worried. “Why don’t you go get changed or take a nap somewhere. I can watch him.”
Seungkwan furrowed his brow, glancing at DK. “Sleep? Now?”
Jeonghan pulled away from Seungcheol. “You’re off the clock, aren’t you?” he asked, not waiting for either of them to answer. “You can stay here all night if you want. One of the kids can show you to a room upstairs. You can take shifts, and if something happens, we’ll yell for you.”
Seungkwan made to speak.
DK beat him to it. “That’s not a bad idea.” He shook Seungkwan’s shoulder. “What do you say? That sounds fine with me.”
Even Hansol thought it was an insane idea. Given Seungcheol’s face, he agreed, but he didn’t say anything. Probably because it was Jeonghan who suggested it.
Seungkwan looked between them all like they were crazy.
But Jeonghan was quick to pick up on a person’s hesitation, always knowing exactly what to say or do to get what he wants. “Vernon-ah!” He called out, and Hansol felt his spine snap straight. “Can you show Seungkwannie to a room?”
Seungkwan was looking at him. It might have been a glare.
Hansol wasn’t sure. He was too afraid to look back.
But he did stand up with a, “Sure,” like this was a completely normal thing for him to be doing right now. He walked towards the stairs without looking back, just wanting to do what he was told without thinking too hard about it.
Footsteps followed after him at a distance. Hansol didn’t look. He was still too afraid.
On the second floor, he turned a corner and opened a door on his left. There was a presence beside him, unmoving, both of them standing in the hall. Hansol felt chills like he was in danger, his heartbeat skyrocketing from the proximity, unwilling to breathe too loudly lest Seungkwan hear it.
Seungkwan seemed to have no similar problems, though. “Is this your room?” he asked, something heavy and serious in his voice.
“It’s Jeonghan’s.” This room had a bigger bed and an en-suite bathroom with a shower. Hansol’s didn’t.
Seungkwan swept by him, movement so sudden that he looked like a blur, just there and gone again. Citrus and rubbing alcohol.
Hansol hesitated… before stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
Seungkwan had his back turned to him, standing at the side of the bed, digging through the backpack he’d brought along. “What?” he asked without looking, not sounding annoyed or tired… and certainly not happy. Just blank. Just there. Just ‘what do you want’ in all its forms.
What did he want? Everything felt so overwhelming, so confusing. Hansol liked obvious paths, knowing exactly where he was going. The paths weren’t always easy, were rarely easy, but he could still fucking see them. Except for now. Except for this.
So, what now? What did he want now?
Hansol licked his lips. “Can we go back to how things were?”
Seungkwan froze.
Hansol’s heart stopped.
Slowly, very slowly, Seungkwan straightened up, seemingly staring at the opposite wall.
Hansol expected that he would have to repeat himself. His fingers twisted together behind his back, wondering if he could, wondering how to word it any better.
But instead, Seungkwan’s tone stayed the same when he asked, “Why?”
Why? That’s the same thing Seungkwan had been asking him the last time they saw each other. Always asking why. And Hansol wasn’t sure he had a fucking answer. He didn’t every time he’d been asked that. The truth wasn’t always the easiest answer to find. But saying that he didn’t know was unacceptable in present company.
Fuck, had he been quiet too long? He didn’t used to think about things like that.
He bent his thumb back as far as it could go. The truth. The truth. The truth.
“I missed you.”
… Fuck. Fuck, he had missed him. He couldn’t stop fucking thinking about him. Every time his thoughts turned to Seungkwan, Hansol would do something to distract himself, but his thoughts were always turning to Seungkwan, he was always thinking of him, even the fucking sunlight reminded him of-
Seungkwan threw his bag into an armchair across the room with more force than necessary. “You missed me!?”
Hansol went still.
Seungkwan turned to him, rage rage rage- “You-! Wha-” Seungkwan pressed his hands to his face, then pushed them into his hair. The anger had taken a back seat in that fleeting moment, replaced with confusion and… something. Exhaustion, maybe. He looked tired. “Un-fucking-believable. Missed me! You’re- I can’t- I-” He took something off of the bed, turned around, went into the bathroom, and slammed the door.
And Hansol… didn’t move. For a while, he stayed in place. The shower never turned on, but by the time that the sink started running, he stepped across the room and sat on the bed.
He hadn’t been counting. He didn’t know how long it was before Seungkwan re-emerged from the bathroom. But when he did, Seungkwan stopped and glared at him. He was wearing a different shirt, hair pushed back, face damp from where he’d washed it. He was so fucking pretty.
“What do you want?” Seungkwan asked.
Hansol… glanced at the door, where he’d been standing when he previously answered that question.
When he looked back, Seungkwan’s glare had deepened, looking more like a glower. But he re-worded his question. “Why are you still here?”
Oh. “You said you sleep better with someone.”
And there was that same look. That same surprise. That same something else. Hansol glanced to the floor before he could figure out what it was. He didn’t want to know.
Neither of them moved for a long time. Hansol felt like he was waiting to be kicked out. Or waiting for Seungkwan to break his nose and then kick him out.
“You’re a strange fucking person,” Seungkwan eventually said.
Hansol didn’t reply. He didn’t glance up again either. He could see from his periphery that Seungkwan was fidgeting, but he didn’t know why. He just kept waiting.
Then a sigh. The fidgeting stopped. “Am I still-...?” The words started out with purpose, with anger, but they drifted away into silence quickly, into something less angry. Maybe something vulnerable.
Hansol didn’t want to know. But he was curious about how that question ended.
By the time he looked up, Seungkwan was moving again, walking by him with long strides, going to the opposite side of the bed. “Do what you want,” Seungkwan spat out, back to anger again, shoving the blankets aside.
He hadn’t kicked Hansol out. Hadn’t told him no about anything.
Seungkwan got into bed with his back to Hansol, curling in on himself with the blankets tight around him, face against the mattress.
There was still sunlight outside. Why did he agree to sleep here? Why did DK suggest it? Why were they letting him?
Hansol stared at the curve of Seungkwan’s neck. Could he still reach out? Trace it with his fingertips?
Why were there so many questions lately? Why didn’t Hansol know anything anymore?
He lowered himself to lie on top of the blankets, quietly moving closer but not enough to touch. He could barely even feel Seungkwan’s warmth. But he could. Just a little. Hansol stared at the nape of his neck.
How long would it be until he saw him again like this? Seugkwan hadn’t said no… Why didn’t he say no?
It took forty minutes before Seungkwan’s breathing evened out. His shoulders stayed tense, though. Hansol tangled a hand into the sheets, feeling a little wild with the urge to touch him, to try smoothing out the hard edges. He wasn’t used to Seungkwan sleeping with this much tension in his body. Even after that one night when all they did was eat and talk-...
God, Hansol had missed him so much.
Another twenty minutes later, Seungkwan finally moved. Just his arm stretching out at first, but then he rolled over, a hand falling across Hansol’s chest, Seungkwan’s face tucked against his shoulder with a sigh.
Tangerines.
Hansol untangled his hand from the sheets, placing it gently over the side of Seungkwan’s head, shielding his eyes from any light that could bother him. He looked up to the locked and barred window, the sun setting over the horizon. He looked over to the door, unlocked, a house full of his brothers. Hansol always felt safe here. He wasn’t sure if Seungkwan was safe here.
His eyes looked from the window to the door before settling on the latter. That thing was back again. That scared thing in Hansol’s chest, clawing against his ribs, but he just watched the door.
Then his eyes fell on Seungkwan’s phone next to the bed.
He hesitated… and reached for it.
This time, Hansol didn’t sleep.
—
They were interrupted later by Seungcheol, much to Hansol’s displeasure.
Seungkwan didn’t seem phased at all by the position they were found in, merely rising and barely sparing Hansol a glance as he went downstairs to check on Woozi and DK.
Seungcheol gave Hansol the most withering glare of his life but ultimately said nothing.
That had been about a week ago.
Woozi still couldn’t go outside much, but he was doing better than either DK or Seungkwan had expected. Without any sort of scan, they could only surmise that the bullet likely missed his organs and that Seungkwan managed to not cause more damage by removing it. Woozi said he owed them both his life, but they just looked at him like the words were utter nonsense, so the topic was dropped.
They were still upset about the hospital thing.
As for Seungkwan-
vernon [13:06]
are you busy tonight?
EMT boo seungkwan [14:44]
you don’t text me. I text you.
Things were… not the same as before. But they did still manage to see each other, so long as it was Seungkwan making the decisions.
EMT boo seungkwan [18:03]
three hours. pick a place.
vernon [18:03]
yours?
EMT boo seungkwan [18:05]
no
Hansol hadn’t been back to Seungkwan’s apartment yet. He kind of missed the pictures of Bookeu and the lava lamp and all the skincare products around the bathroom sink. He hadn’t said as much, though.
They didn’t really talk like they used to, either. Hansol would send an address for one of their safe houses, get a confirmation, and be swarmed as soon as he walked through the door.
The sex was different, too. It was still good, of course. It would always be good with Seungkwan. Maybe not quite as mind-blowing, but it was still a rushed whirlwind, still ripping off clothes, still gasping out curses, still fucking like animals. But Hansol wasn’t trying anything different anymore. Didn’t really get the chance with Seungkwan gripping him by the hair and telling him where to put his hands.
Hansol wasn’t complaining about that part. His list didn’t matter much so long as Seungkwan still wanted him.
But then they’d be done, catching their breaths, and Seungkwan would stand, get dressed, gather his things, and leave.
Every time.
And if Hansol didn’t speak, then Seungkwan wouldn’t either.
He wouldn’t even look at him.
And the tension would still be in his shoulders, his face stiff and hard to read, eyes dull and distant and tired and angry and sad-
And he would leave.
And Hansol would stay and count to two hundred and eventually leave, too.
And he kind of fucking hated it. This wasn’t what he asked for. He wanted things to go back to before. He wanted to undo what had been done. He just wanted- He wanted Seungkwan to laugh at him again, call him silly names, pet his hair, smile- He hadn’t seen Seungkwan smile in so long and-
What the fuck were they doing?
But it was okay. It was something. Maybe everything else just needed time.
Hansol could be patient. He would wait. Wait and listen and obey. He could do that.
Seungkwan was worth it.
—
“Are you still seeing him?” Seungcheol had asked one morning when Hansol was staring at his chat history with Seungkwan.
And the rest of his day had gone about the same from there. Another shooting, their biggest casualty being the radiator in Chan’s car. And because of the shooting and subsequent mechanic work, Hansol hadn’t eaten since lunch the previous day. He was getting looks from the others now, too. Some worried, some pitying- It was enough for him to notice.
And then there was Seungkwan-
EMT boo seungkwan [13:48]
two hours. pick a place.
-and Hansol still missed him so fucking much. He could be in the same room with him, reach out to him, touch him, kiss him, fuck him, and he still missed him so goddamn much.
So on that particular afternoon, while Seungkwan was straddled across his lap, while they were gasping the same air, while Hansol’s hands were digging hard into perfect skin, gripping his hips, fucking up into him, thinking too much while not thinking at all-
“Call me Hansol,” he whined- begged against the side of Seungkwan’s jaw.
Pretty fingers twitched against his back.
“Please,” he asked again, eyes shut tight. “Please- Call- Call me-”
“Hansol,” fell out of Seungkwan’s lips, high and needy, clinging to him tighter. “Hansol, Hansol, Hansol-”
And Hansol was gone.
When it was over, he realized he was surprised that Seungkwan had agreed, even in the midst of their chaos. He wasn’t very agreeable these days if it was something from Hansol. And now, as the seconds dragged on and they laid next to each other in bed, Hansol was growing even more surprised that Seungkwan wasn’t leaving.
He risked a glance over, finding Seungkwan staring at the ceiling. Hansol looked away.
And then, so sudden that it almost made him flinch, Seungkwan spoke. “Why that name? Why Hansol?”
Hansol wasn’t sure what he was asking exactly, wasn’t sure if he wanted to answer whatever the question was, so he said nothing.
And after a while, Seungkwan sat up. “Do you want me to call you that from now on?”
Yes. But the desire was so strong, so striking, that it scared him. “Only during sex.”
Seungkwan hummed and didn’t ask anything else. He got up, got dressed, collected his things, and left.
But he was slower about it this time. A different expression on his face.
Hansol only counted to one hundred before leaving.
—
Seungkwan stayed.
It took a long time for it to happen. Well, not that long. A couple of weeks. And Hansol couldn’t claim that it was because of him. Seungkwan had looked dead on his feet when he walked into the room, ordering Hansol to strip. Naturally, he fell asleep right after they finished, and Hansol wasn’t going to leave him alone. Not here, not like this.
He wrapped an arm around Seungkwan’s waist, pressed his chest against his back, and stared at the doorway until sleep took him, too.
Things got a little easier after that. They still didn’t really talk. There was still tension in Seungkwan’s shoulders. But there were times when he made eye contact, times when he grumbled about something that happened during his day, times when he stayed.
Once, Seungkwan had pretended to fall asleep. Hansol wasn’t sure why he was faking it. He didn’t ask.
Somehow, things felt… both better and worse. It was heavier. Deeper. Hansol didn’t really understand it. He still just wanted things to be like how they were, even if the new normal was getting better. It still wasn’t the same. Seungkwan still didn’t smile.
There was another time that Seungkwan stayed when he didn’t fall asleep nor did he pretend to. He was staring at the wall opposite Hansol, not moving, not speaking.
Hansol wrapped an arm around him again, hesitant but still bringing them closer together.
Minutes passed. Seungkwan turned in his arms.
Hansol didn’t open his eyes. He was already drifting away. This wasn’t perfect, not like before, but he was more content here than anywhere else.
He felt fingertips ghost over his chest, over his heart, tracing a familiar pattern.
“Vernon,” Seungkwan whispered in a soft voice, distant, across pastures and fields of gleaming gold waving in the morning sun. “What do you want out of this?”
Hansol sighed and pulled the warmth against his chest closer. “Your smile,” he murmured back. It was the only thing he wanted these days.
And he could see it off in the distance, miles away, Seungkwan’s happiness making the world glow just a little bit brighter.
—
Hansol knew the problem.
He didn’t claim to be a particularly smart man, especially when it came to people, but he wasn’t that fucking stupid.
His knuckles rapped gently against the open door, Jeonghan’s voice from inside calling out a welcoming, “Come in.” Jeonghan was always like that. Seemed to like treating the others as his children, he and Seungcheol playing the part of parents. Weirdly enough, it kind of worked, especially in times like this.
Hansol didn’t need advice, though. But he couldn’t apologize, because all he said was the truth. There was just one way to fix it. He just-...
He pushed the door open and poked his head inside.
Jeonghan was across the room, sitting in front of his vanity mirror. He liked things like that. Pretty things. Long silky robes and ornate brushes for his hair, that sort of stuff. He said he liked Seungkwan, too.
Their eyes caught in the mirror, and Jeonghan grew a wide smile, scooting to the side of his bench. “Hansollie! Come in. Come sit with me.” He patted the seat beside him.
Hansol shuffled over quietly, taking the offered seat. He always found that he looked different in Jeonghan’s mirror specifically. He always felt pale here. Lesser. Smaller. Humbler. More human.
Jeonghan looked beautiful and in his element, but that was Jeonghan for you. “What’s on your mind, Sollie?”
Sometimes, Hansol didn’t really want anything when he sought out Jeonghan like this. He just liked the other man’s presence, kind of baffled by him at the same time. Part of the bafflement was that Jeonghan always seemed to know things. Like now, knowing that Hansol wanted something.
“I need a favor.”
“Oh?”
Jeonghan didn’t do favors for free. Not usually. But he sometimes would coo at Vernon when the other man was doing absolutely nothing. Just sitting on a couch or getting a drink from the fridge, whatever, and Jeonghan was suddenly at his shoulder, pretending to pinch his cheek. He sometimes told Hansol that he was his favorite, but Hansol got the suspicion he might say that to everyone.
So, Hansol didn’t expect that he’d have to return this favor at some point, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Whatever the price, Hansol knew he was fine with it.
“I need you to talk to Seungcheol for me.”
Jeonghan hummed to himself, gently setting his brush down in a particular spot. The vanity had a system. Hansol didn’t know it.
“You know that you can tell him anything,” Jeonghan began, but it was less a reassurance and more a statement of fact. “What could be such a difficult topic that you’d need me to act as the middleman?”
Hansol played with his fingers, twisting two together in his hand, bending back the thumb. There was no normal way to ease into this. “I want Seungkwan to join the family.”
Jeonghan was quiet for a second. He hadn’t turned, but Hansol could feel his eyes on him through the mirror’s reflection. He hadn’t frozen up either, his surprise always hidden, reactions always questionable. “Did Seungkwan ask for that?”
“No,” Hansol answered. “I haven’t talked to him about it yet.”
Jeonghan hummed again.
Hansol stared down at his knees, pulling at a cuticle on his thumb.
Jeonghan tapped a finger against his brush once. “What makes you believe that Seungkwan wants to join?”
Nothing. Seungkwan didn’t care for power beyond the bedroom. He didn’t care about money. Didn’t care about drugs or weapons. Didn’t even grow up here. A complete outsider who should be just passing through this place as he eventually and inevitably moved on with his life. He didn’t owe any of them anything.
Jeonghan liked power. He liked money. Occasionally liked drugs, was a bit prissy around guns. But he didn’t grow up here. And he made damn sure he never owed anyone. None of those were reasons he joined.
Seungcheol was his reason.
But Hansol-
He didn’t answer.
Another pause. Jeonghan took a deep breath. “Why do you want him to join?”
Hansol furrowed his brow. Something deep in his chest felt like it was bleeding. “The family’s all that matters. Seungkwan’s nobody,” he muttered quietly between them, looking up at Jeonghan. “I don’t want him to be nobody anymore.”
“Oh-” Jeonghan’s eyes went sad, his arm wrapping around Hansol’s shoulder. “Oh, Sollie…”
Hansol closed his eyes, hiding his face in Jeonghan’s shoulder, not quite sure what he was hiding from.
Jeonghan’s fingers carded through his hair. It felt nice. “Sollie,” he began quietly, almost a whisper, “have you told him your name?”
“... Sort of,” Hansol whispered back. He didn’t really. He shouldn’t have. He bit his cheek.
Jeonghan rested his chin in his hair. “You have such a big heart, Hansol,” he whispered like he was only talking to himself. But then he leaned away. “I’ll talk to Cheol for you.”
Hansol’s heart leapt into his throat. He pulled back to catch Jeonghan’s eyes, looking for a lie, a trick, as if Jeonghan had ever done that to him when it came to something so serious. “Really?”
“Yes.” Jeonghan rested a hand over his jaw, tilting his head up higher, making sure he was looking at him. “But you have to talk to Seungkwan. Soon.”
Hansol felt his face crumple. “I will, hyung. I promise.”
—
Seungkwan’s apartment was different. Darker. The pictures on the wall were in different spots. Bookeu stood out in a few of them, but Hansol couldn’t make out the faces in others. Blurry. Incomprehensible.
There was a fire in the living room. It blazed and crackled bright, licking at the edges of the couch.
The floor was concrete, like in the safe house they met in a few times. Not the hardwood that Hansol missed.
He walked by the fire and pictures, down the hall, stopping at the entrance of Seungkwan’s bedroom. The blinds were open, letting in the harsh white sun. The lava lamp was off. The bed was unmade. The air felt humid.
But the bathroom door was open.
Hansol stepped forward, closer, almost sneaking around the corner like he knew he was doing something wrong.
Then, Seungkwan was there. Standing at the sink, shirt missing, looking at himself in the mirror, hand against his chest. There was a tattoo over his heart. Three lines, red around the edges for how new it was. Seungkwan’s pretty fingers were gently touching it.
“Does it suit me, you think?” he asked without looking away from his reflection. “I don’t know.”
“You’re beautiful,” Hansol responded.
Seungkwan grew a smug grin, very small, fleeting. “I guess I could grow into it.”
Hansol couldn’t look away. “I love you.”
Seungkwan turned to him.
Hansol woke up.
—
For the last three years, Seungkwan had been in a losing battle against upper back pain. He was pretty sure he hadn’t slipped a disk or something. Just a pulled muscle he wasn’t giving time to heal maybe.
It had been another long day. A long week. He was debating texting Vernon again. Vernon- Hansol- Whoever the fuck. It was a bad idea. A terrible fucking habit that he really needed to kick. But he told himself that it was fine on long days. Except that every day was a long day, so-
He was sitting on a bench in the locker room, elbows braced on his arms, head bowed low, trying to make himself relax long enough for some of the pain to seep away. Maybe a sauna trip would help, but he hadn’t been to one in ages.
Sex helped relieve his tension, but it was helping less lately.
His phone was all the way in the bottom of his backpack. He’d have to dig it out, ignore the fact that he was texting Vernon again, actually go across town to meet him-
Seungkwan groaned to himself, lifting an exhausted arm to pinch the bridge of his nose before rubbing the palm hard over his face.
No. No Hansol tonight. He had to stop this stupid shit. He’d already been hurt once in this mess. It wasn’t good for him. Seungkwan was getting nothing real out of it, nothing actually beneficial. Just a decent fuck and more sweet things he could lie to himself about. He had to stop.
He’d text him tomorrow. Maybe.
Seungkwan grabbed his bag and stood, kicking his locker closed.
The station was largely empty at this time. Seungkwan had stayed a little longer than necessary, getting in a quick shower in the shitty communal washroom reserved (supposedly) for emergencies. Then he had to rethink his life in the locker room for a while, something everyone did during their quarter-life crisis, wondering which bits he was going to lie to his mom about during their weekly phone call on Sunday. Normal shit.
When he first started working the area, he’d been a little paranoid. Carried mace and all that. He learned early on that scissors were more often in his reach and were far more effective in calming a situation down. No one wanted to get stabbed with fucking scissors, turns out. As such, he didn’t really carry protection on him anymore.
When he stepped outside and came face to face with someone’s smile, he missed the mace.
That was kind of his only reaction, though. It had been a long week. “Afternoon,” he said, shouldering his backpack, making to walk by like the situation wasn’t obvious.
The man stepped in front of him, stopping him, making it obvious. He still had a gentle smile on, one that didn’t meet his dark eyes. Nice hair. Generally handsome. “Seungkwan, right?” he asked. Two other men slipped out of a car parked beside him.
Seungkwan recognized one of them. Then he suddenly recognized all of them.
Another shooting a few weeks ago. Probably done by- Well…
These men had been the survivors. The bulky one in glasses had a broken collarbone. The skinny younger one had a shattered wrist. And the one in front of him with the smile, shot in the calf.
Seungkwan had patched them up, knelt by their sides, bandaged them, told them everything would be okay.
Now, he was wondering if maybe he should have listened to his doctor at his last check-up. Something about high blood pressure. His sudden spikes of anger were definitely going to catch up to him someday.
He gripped his bag tighter, scowling and unwilling to hide it. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, actually,” the man answered smoothly. The other two stopped behind Seungkwan. “We wanted to talk to you. Just a few questions. Nothing big.”
Seungkwan glanced behind his shoulder for half a second. “Go ahead. Ask.”
“Not here.” Gunshot gestured to the idling car. “We were thinking about going somewhere else.”
“I’m kind of busy.”
“It won’t take but a second-”
“I said, no.”
His smile stretched wider, like this was fun. “We like you, Seungkwan. There’s no reason to be worried about anything. This won’t take very long.”
There was no one else around. If he shouted, no one would hear. If he ran, he’d be caught. If he fought, he’d be overtaken.
Whatever happened, he could not get into that fucking car.
“My schedule’s just tight today,” he answered with a casual shake of his head, moving to walk by again. “I’m sorry. If there’s an emergency, you can-”
The big one grabbed him by the shoulder, smoothly and forcibly slipping the backpack off. The skinny one grabbed his other arm in a tight grip. They pulled on him.
“This won’t take long,” Gunshot said again.
And Seungkwan was in the fucking car, stuffed into the backseat between the two quiet goons, his backpack at the feet of one of them, Gunshot getting into the driver’s seat- Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK-
“Don’t worry,” Gunshot tried again, glancing at him in the rear view mirror as they left the lot. “We really do like you. We just need to talk. Don’t try anything, and there won’t be anything. Okay?”
The big one took Seungkwan’s hands, zip-tying his wrists together.
The smaller one pulled out a handgun, resting it near his thigh.
Fear was starting to claw its way up Seungkwan’s throat, but he couldn’t let it take hold. He needed to think. He needed to stay calm. He needed a plan.
His phone was in his bag. If he could get to it-...
He could take the gun, take control of the car, kill them if they-...
When they finally stopped, he could make a run for it. If they were somewhere rural, he could get into the trees and hide. He could-...
God, he was so fucking fucked.
They crossed a bridge, made a turn, drove along the river. The industrial district. The abandoned side. People stayed away from this area. One man found back here babbled to Seungkwan about it after getting a dose of NARCAN straight to the dome. Too dangerous to be here for too long, he said. They’ll kill you if you see something you shouldn’t, he said.
And suddenly, the fear drained from Seungkwan’s frozen limbs. Suddenly, he was unbelievably pissed.
“How’s your shoulder?” he asked the big one, leaning forward like he could take a look. “You’re not using the sling anymore. It must feel better?” He turned to the other one, the one with the gun. “And you? Your wrist okay? No more brace?”
They didn’t answer. They didn’t even have the balls to look at him.
The car stopped. Gunshot made eye contact with him in the rear view mirror again.
Seungkwan glared back. “How’s your leg?”
Gunshot killed the car and got out. The big one opened his door, dragging Seungkwan out by the arm. The stench was fucking awful here. Chemicals and dead fish.
There was a tall box by the river side, probably something electrical. It had a little rusted metal roof covering it. And in front, a metal chair. There were reddish-brown stains on the concrete around it.
Gunshot tried to smile again, looking more like a grimace. “This doesn’t have to be bad.”
Seungkwan was vibrating from the amount of hatred and adrenaline soaring through his veins. “Do you believe in God?”
Gunshot nodded to the chair. “Bring him over.”
The big one took him by the shoulders, dragging him to the chair.
And this is the part where Seungkwan would normally start to lose his fucking mind. It wasn’t like he moved here and suddenly became a hardened person just by proximity. It wasn’t like he’d been in any situation remotely like this before. Sleeping with Vernon while his gun sat on the bedside table was the closest brush he’d ever gotten to danger, and even that was out of character for him.
But what Seungkwan had done was see the aftermath of shit like this.
If people survived, they didn’t talk about it.
All he knew for sure when they pushed him down into the chair was that he wouldn’t live long if he started screaming and thrashing and crying and pleading. That would attract unwanted attention, and they’ve already made up their minds about how this was going to end.
He had to stay calm. He had to stay calm . He had to fucking think.
The smaller one had taken his bag out of the car, opening the pockets at random, rummaging through the spare clothes and protein bars.
Gunshot squatted beside him, breaking his line of sight. “Like I said, we just want to talk.” The big one was still behind him, an arm on his shoulder to keep him there. They were facing the river. It was an otherwise pretty day, actually. “We know that you’re friendly with Vernon and Seventeen.”
Seungkwan wasn’t surprised. Didn’t even pretend to be. He also didn’t say anything.
Vernon hadn’t told him about The Family any more than… that one conversation. Seungkwan just talked to people and wasn’t a total moron. He knew about Seventeen, knew about their growing empire, knew about their enemies.
Granted, he didn’t know a lot before he started fucking one of the members in the inner circle, but he couldn’t really be blamed for that. It was his fault for continuing to fuck him after getting educated, though.
And after getting hurt. But Seungkwan was only willing to accept blame for one mistake at a time.
Either way, he didn’t respond to the lead up, waiting for the inevitable questions.
Gunshot only paused for a moment, having waited for a reaction he didn’t get. He continued, “We want to know where they stay. We want to know where they live.”
“I don’t know that,” Seungkwan answered, mostly honest.
He was pretty sure the place he took that bullet out of Jihoon was their home but wasn’t completely certain.
Gunshot rose his eyebrows, unimpressed.
Seungkwan continued before the other could say something else or do something cartoonish like bring out a crowbar. “He’s only ever gone to my place or he’s taken me to safe houses. I don’t know where he lives. I never asked.”
Gunshot hummed and stood to his full height, walking to stand between Seungkwan and the river. “You two have been seeing each other for a while now. Haven’t you?”
Well. If Seungkwan was ever going to be honest in his fucking life, now’s the time. “He’s a good fuck,” he said with the most sincere honesty he could muster. “That’s all we are. We don’t date. It’s just physical.”
“You sure?”
“He made it clear.”
Gunshot hummed, his eyebrows dancing higher, like Seungkwan just gave something away.
Before he could go back over his words, the small one brought over Seungkwan’s bag, holding out his phone. Gunshot took it, giving it a look like it was a particularly boring puzzle.
He wasn’t even trying to be sweet anymore. The good cop routine was all but dropped. God, Seungkwan was so fucking mad.
“And if you called him and told him that you were in danger, that you needed help,” Gunshot continued, “what would he do?”
Seungkwan didn’t like that question. It took him a second to come up with an answer he thought might be true. “Hang up, probably,” he said in a strangled, tired voice.
Gunshot seemed to buy it. He leaned forward, hands on his knees, looking down at Seungkwan like he was a child. “And what about a hookup? Would he meet you for that? If you gave the time and place?”
Seungkwan somehow didn’t like that question even more. “Maybe. If he was free.”
Gunshot hummed. “What’s the passcode on your phone?”
Seungkwan said nothing.
They stared at one another.
And eventually, Gunshot let out a disappointed sigh. “Seungkwan, we were doing so good.”
But Seungkwan wasn’t getting out of this. He wasn’t going to leave here alive. He knew that as soon as he was thrown into the fucking car. So he clenched his jaw and dug his heels in. “No one’s going to die for me.”
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Gunshot said gently. Something cold and metal was pressed against Seungkwan’s temple from behind. “Just tell us the passcode.”
He said nothing. He was trembling, hot tears at the back of his eyes, everything inside his rib cage melting into molten lava.
“Seungkwan-”
He looked into Gunshot’s eyes. “No one is dying for me.”
They held eye contact until Gunshot looked over Seungkwan’s shoulder, giving a small shake of his head.
The gun fell away from his temple.
Seungkwan gasped for air, swallowing down bile, his head bowing low. He couldn’t stop shivering.
Gunshot sighed again, crouching low in front of him again, speaking softly and gently again. “Do no harm?” he asked with a little smile. Seungkwan wanted to gouge his eyes out. “You do know that Vernon wouldn’t do the same for you, right? He’s kind of a legend around here. Well, they all are, but you’ve been cuddling up with a monster. He’s the coldest one.”
Seungkwan said nothing. Just kept breathing.
“Your mom lives down in Jeju-do, right?” Gunshot asked.
Seungkwan stopped breathing.
“But your sisters live up this way,” Gunshot continued. “One’s done pretty good for herself. Good job, good husband, good kid, another on the way. Sweet looking family. But your other sister… Focusing on her studies, huh? Just her and that cute little dog.”
Seungkwan stared at the brown stain beside his shoes.
“Doesn’t she live in the complex across from that bakery?” Gunshot asked. “That place with the pink roof. And her living on the ground floor-... Good rent, but with everything open like that, security isn’t great… She should be getting off of work soon.”
Seungkwan closed his eyes.
Gunshot leaned closer, got quieter. “We could bring her out here. Maybe she knows your passcode.” The sounds of birds and waves was fucking suffocating. “Which one, Seungkwan? Your sister… or Vernon?”
Seungkwan swallowed hard. “0-5-2-6-1-5.”
“You see?” Gunshot leaned away, a smile in his voice. “That wasn’t so bad.” He keyed in the code and thumbed through it for a second. “Now, I just need you to do one more thing for me.”
Seungkwan wanted to throw up. He was fairly certain he was about to have a heart attack if he didn’t get out of this goddamn chair.
But Gunshot didn’t care. “We’re going to make a phone call,” he said. “You’re going to tell Vernon to meet you at the motel on the other side of the bridge. You’re going to tell him to be there in an hour. You understand?”
Instead of answering, Seungkwan took a deep breath and looked up at Gunshot, meeting his eyes again.
He still had that stupid smile, but his eyes were cold. “Nothing funny. No weird code words. No strange humming or hawing. Just you being horny and desperate to meet with your fuck buddy, all right?” Gunshot looked down to the phone, pulling up Vernon’s contact. “Do good, and you can go home tonight. Deal?”
They only ever texted. They never called one another. Maybe Vernon would know something was off just from that alone.
It might save one of their lives. Seungkwan was sure he was going to die as soon as the call was over. But maybe Vernon could live through this…
Seungkwan nodded.
“Good,” Gunshot said, connecting the call and putting it on speaker.
—
Hansol’s phone was connected to his car when a call came through, EMT boo seungkwan lighting up on the dashboard.
Seungcheol slowly turned to look at him, giving a cold, hard stare. “Answer it,” he ordered.
The thing was-... The thing was, Hansol was a man obsessed. He knew Seungkwan’s routines, knew his schedules, and he survived off of the moments he was able to see him, fleeting as they were. He looked forward to them. Craved them.
And if Seungkwan wanted to meet these days, he either texted him near the end of his shift or right when he was getting off.
Seungkwan hadn’t texted him that day.
Hansol had pulled up the locator app. Maybe he was going straight home. Maybe he was going out with friends. Maybe he had a date. Whatever the reason, Hansol wanted to know. He always wanted to know.
It was a little weird, but he felt justified when he watched the pin moving along the highway, across the bridge, down into the old industry sector-
“Jun, Mingyu.” He found the pair in the kitchen, placing guns on the table. “You’re with me. We’re leaving. Now.”
They took the guns and followed him out of the room, questions on their lips that were going unheard for now. Hansol would explain in a moment.
There weren’t many of them home right now. Woozi was still recovering. He needed protection if something happened here. Joshua and Minghao could stay with him.
Seungcheol and Jeonghan were coming in the back door just as Hansol and the others were going out of it. “Where are you-?”
He couldn’t wait for permission. Hansol grabbed Seungcheol by the arm, dragging him outside. “We need to go. Get in the car. Jeonghan, stay here.”
Even though there were questions being shot back and forth over his head, the others freely followed him, trusted him. There were members of their family out in the world today, after all. And Hansol was never great at conversation. Of course, they would trust him.
Jeonghan stood in the driveway as they left, Hansol setting his phone on the console between himself and Seungcheol, the other two in the back. The questions had stopped for the time being, Mingyu and Jun checking their guns since Hansol was already breaking the speed limit in record time.
Seungcheol picked up the phone. “Who are you tracking?”
If he hadn’t brought Seungcheol, ignored him at the back door, his ass would have been in incredibly hot water. Bringing him along was its own problems, but he could work with him from this angle.
Except that Hansol had no patience to explain. “They took him,” he clipped back.
“Who?” Seungcheol asked.
“I don’t know.” Hansol had been going through a long list in his head. Plenty of enemies, yes, but how many of them knew? “When I find out, I’m going to kill them.”
“Who did they take, Hansol?” Seungcheol’s patience sounded thin, too.
Hansol glanced at him and back to the road. “Seungkwan.”
Silence. Even the shuffling in the back stopped. Then, Seungcheol- “Are you fucking serious?”
“They took him-”
“I told you this would happen!!” Seungcheol suddenly roared, his anger hot enough to make Hansol grip the wheel tighter. “You promised me that you would stay out of it if it did! You promised me! And now you’re trying to drag your brothers down with you!”
“They took him!!”
“I don’t care!!” Seungcheol snapped back. “I can’t care!! I warned you, Hansol!”
He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t turn back. He couldn’t abandon him. “I’m going. I have to go.”
“He’s already dead-”
“I have to go!”
“God- Fuck!!” After the outburst, Seungcheol went quiet in the passenger seat. Hansol still expected him to order him back to the house. Or, at the very least, pull over and let them out if he was hell bent on this mission.
Hansol didn’t plan to obey either order.
Seungcheol looked at the phone clenched tight in his hand, then straightened up in the seat. “Fine,” he said, voice steady, still very angry. “But we’re doing this my way. You understand? I tell you to do something or not do something, and you listen to me. Do you understand?”
It was the best he was going to get. “Yes, sir.”
Seungcheol glanced into the back seat, something exchanged between the other three. Hansol wasn’t paying attention. He couldn’t.
And that’s what put them where they were now, a single abandoned warehouse away from the river, from the exact spot Seungkwan was being held. They had just parked and were about to get out of the car to get a view of the situation when the phone rang.
Seungkwan never called. Not even when things had been perfect.
Hansol answered it and tried his fucking best to be calm. “Hello?”
A pause on the other end. Just birds and the sounds of water. Then- “Vernon.” If Hansol didn’t know any better, he’d just say that Seungkwan sounded exhausted, more tired than Hansol had probably ever seen him before. But he did know better. And there was fear beneath his voice. “Can we meet in an hour?”
Straight to the point.
Seungcheol shook his head.
Hansol swallowed. “Can’t. I’m busy right now.”
Another pause. Too long to be normal. “What about later today?”
Seungcheol motioned to the two in the back seat before they quietly got out of the car. Then he motioned to Hansol, pointing down before twirling his finger in the air. Stay here, he was saying. Keep him talking. Then Seungcheol slowly and silently got out of the car, too.
How the fuck was Hansol supposed to stay? “Maybe,” he eventually answered. “Where were you thinking?”
“There’s a motel near the bridge on the far end of town,” Seungkwan said. “We can meet there maybe?”
Seungkwan didn’t ask his opinion anymore. Seungkwan hated motels.
Hansol wanted to fucking scream. “There’s a nicer place in the middle of downtown,” he tried. “If you’re worried about the price, I’ll pay it.”
Another pause. “No,” was the answer. “Too many people. Someone might see us.”
“So?” Hansol replied in a fit of anger and insanity. “If anyone tried something, I’d kill them,” he said. “I’d kill them for you.”
The pause was longer. Hansol blinked to himself, trying to reign his emotions in. He couldn’t let on that he knew something. He couldn’t-
“No,” Seungkwan said. “I want the motel by the bridge.”
And what Seungkwan wanted- “Okay.”
“When can you meet? It has to be today.” His voice sounded thinner, more hurried.
Hansol swallowed again. “I don’t know-”
“Be there in two hours.”
Fuck. “I don’t know if I can.”
A pause. “It wasn’t a question.”
Fuck fuck fuck- “Okay.”
“Okay,” Seungkwan breathed. His voice was shaking. “I have to go.”
No, fuck- “Seungkwan-”
“Goodbye, Hansol.”
The phone disconnected.
Hansol got out of the car and started running.
—
“Hansol?” Gunshot asked as he lowered the phone away, a scowl maring his otherwise handsome face. “I said nothing funny.”
“It’s his name,” Seungkwan rushed to answer in a trembling voice. “His real name. He told me once.” That was probably information he shouldn’t be letting slip whether he was sure about it or not. Seungkwan couldn’t think straight with the gun pressed against his temple again, where it had been sitting ever since Vernon made his threats.
To his credit, Seungkwan had been just as surprised about it as the others. Vernon had never spoken like that around him before. Could he already know something?
“And that whole ‘I’d kill them for you’ thing?” Gunshot continued. “What the fuck was that?”
They were already afraid of Vernon. Called him cold, a monster. Seungkwan lightly shook his head. “He says things like that sometimes. He’s crazy. You said it yourself.”
But what if Vernon didn’t know? What if he was walking into a trap? Seungkwan had been trying to play it smart, play it calm, protect his sisters- But he was probably about to die. He could have used that opportunity to warn Vernon properly, to tell him not to listen to them, that they had his phone, let him hear the gunshot over the call so he knew it was true. It was their idea to not text him instead, to make Seungkwan ask himself. He should have-
It didn’t matter now.
Gunshot was looking between the two behind his shoulder. “Well, Seungkwan,” he sighed.
The gun fell away from his head. Seungkwan could hear the man take a step back.
It was coming. It was happening.
“You’ve been a real help.”
The gun cocked behind him.
Seungkwan closed his eyes. A tear fell.
Then the world exploded.
Seungkwan jolted, automatically ducking down, someone grabbing him by the shirt collar and dragging him forward, turning him, pressing a chest against his back-
The world went quiet again.
Seungkwan opened his eyes.
There was a hiss of air off to the side, the tires of the car they arrived in slowly deflating. The big one was on the ground, his gun thrown near the electrical box, the back of his head- He was dead.
The small one was on the other side of the chair, his neck ripped apart by gunfire, gasping like a fish, fingers twitching.
Gunshot’s breath was right against Seungkwan’s nape, his head right behind his, hand gripping hard at Seungkwan’s chest, a gun pressed against his jaw. He was breathing hard, his hand shaking, backing them away slowly, shuffling towards the water.
“I’LL KILL HIM!!” he yelled out, projecting his voice.
There was no one there. Big metal doors to an empty warehouse were open right in front of them, the sides fenced in with the gate fallen open, all in disrepair, all seemingly incredibly empty.
The gun dug hard into Seungkwan’s neck. “I SWEAR TO GOD, I’LL FUCKING KILL HIM!! VERNON, YOU HEAR ME!? I HAVE NOTHING TO FUCKING LOSE!! DON’T TRY ME!!”
The small one gurgled, his fingers going still.
Seungkwan was shaking. He was pretty sure he was crying. He wasn’t screaming yet. Probably wasn’t babbling. Too much was happening. He was about to die. He was about to die as a pawn in a gang war because he couldn’t stop having feelings for someone who would never feel the same. He was going to die for Hansol by the fucking river with the chemicals and dead fish. There was nowhere to go. He was going to die-
“VERNON!!” he screamed again. “GET OUT HERE!! COME OUT NOW, OR I SWEAR, I’LL KILL HIM!!”
A pause. Shadows moved. Quick, jerking motions. If Seungkwan didn’t know any better, he’d say it was an argument.
“I’M NOT PLAYING!!” Gunshot shouted, his view obscured too much to notice the movement. “I HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE!!” Silence. Stillness. “ONE!!”
The shadows moved again, and Vernon suddenly appeared, slowly stepping around the fallen gate. His hands were up, a gun clasped in one of them.
Seungkwan was hyperventilating. What the fuck was this?
“Put it down,” Gunshot ordered. “Put it down!!”
Vernon lowered the gun, sliding it in their direction.
And now they were both about to die. There were other people here, though. Maybe. But everything was happening so fast. Too fast.
A billion goddamn years ago, when Seungkwan was finally granted permission to work in the worst neighborhood in the city, it had been given with a condition. He could not go out alone. He needed a partner. And everyone else was too scared of the area, had heard too many horror stories. One even said that if people there really wanted help, they should just move.
Except for DK. Seokmin was the only one in this city with a heart, Seungkwan had thought at the time, but even he had a condition. He would only go with him if they did it right, if they did it smart.
And part of that had been self-defense classes.
Seungkwan wasn’t really good at fighting. He didn’t have to be, he thought. He just needed to pass the classes to get Seokmin’s approval, to get out there as fast as possible.
And besides, again, no one really wanted to fuck with the guy that would threaten bodily harm with a pair of goddamn scissors.
He couldn’t fight three men but-
Seungkwan took two deep breaths, slowly lowering his head.
Gunshot was taking deep breaths of his own. “All right,” he muttered to himself. “All right, okay.” He swallowed. “You’re going to take us to whatever ride you came here in, okay? We’re gonna move nice and-”
Seungkwan threw his head back, a crunch against the back of his skull, his hands grasping at the gun at the same time. The gun fired, but Seungkwan didn’t have time to check if he was dead or not. His tied hands got a grip around the man’s wrist, and he threw him over his shoulder.
Gunshot landed on his back in front of him.
Seungkwan had the gun pointed down on him, his grip poor because of the hand placement-
Gunshot looked between Seungkwan and Vernon. He raised his shirt with one hand, the other grabbing a gun in his waistband-
Seungkwan fired.
—
“Seungkwan?” Hansol stepped forward.
Seungkwan turned the gun on him.
Seungcheol came out of the warehouse with his gun raised. “Put it down!” he screamed. “Put it the fuck down! NOW!!”
Seungkwan fell to his knees.
The gun fell from his hands.
Someone was hugging him tightly. It smelled like Hansol.
“My sisters,” Seungkwan heard somewhere distant. “My sisters. They said they’d- They said-”
“Okay, okay,” Hansol’s voice answered. “We’ll check on them. It’s okay. It’s okay now.”
—
Seungcheol made phone calls on the way home. Mingyu sat next to him in the passenger seat, feilding anything else over text. Jun had sat in the back, one hand on Seungkwan’s shoulder, watching him with a worried eye. Seungkwan was clinging to Hansol’s arm, but he’d stopped answering questions or meeting eyes. He just stared into the middle distance.
It wasn’t until they were already home that Jun was able to find something to cut the zip-ties with. Hansol had hoped getting free would bring Seungkwan back to him but… it didn’t.
Jeonghan had gotten a cold rag, brushing it gently over Seungkwan’s face. “Give him some time,” he told Hansol quietly even though he hadn’t said anything.
He couldn’t look away from Seungkwan.
They were in the common area, Seungkwan on the couch next to Jeonghan, Hansol kneeling at his feet, gripping his hand and looking for some kind of reaction. Everyone else was busy, shuffling in and out, except for Seungcheol watching them with a cautious eye.
It had been so long since Hansol’s first kill. He didn’t really remember much about it. Only that he had to do it. There hadn’t been a choice. But now, after so much blood has stained his hands over the years, after leading such a different life than Seungkwan, he wasn’t sure how to handle this with him. He wasn’t sure what Seungkwan was thinking…
Mingyu hung up the phone and let out a deep sigh. “Seungkwan-ah?” he asked, not getting an answer, not even getting the other to lift his head. “Hoshi has eyes on your eldest sister and her family. They just picked their kid up from school. They’re all accounted for.”
“And your other sister’s on her way home,” Jun said, glancing up from his phone for just a second. “Joshua said he spotted her with a dog. He said her apartment’s safe, too.”
Seungkwan closed his eyes and pulled his hand from Vernon’s grip. He brushed his hands through his hair, bowing his head, resting them against the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything.
Seungcheol spoke up. “Chan and Wonwoo are at your flat. They called in earlier. Said the block is clear.”
No response.
Seungcheol sighed and nodded towards the door. “Everyone out. Let me talk to these two.”
Jun and Mingyu got up and left with only a few worried looks exchanged. Jeonghan took a beat longer before rising, giving Seungcheol a loaded look as he left the room.
Seemingly unmoved, Seungcheol walked over and sat on the couch across from Seungkwan. He clasped his hands together. “If you want to call the police, I would encourage it,” he said. “But you have to do it soon.”
It took a moment before Seungkwan moved, but when he eventually did, he raised his head to give Seungcheol a blank look. “Why would you want me to do that?”
“Reputation,” Seungcheol answered easily, honestly. “The cops around here aren’t very innocent, as I’m sure you’re aware. If they know that a particular gang is taking paramedics hostage and another is helping them to escape, it could pull their opinion significantly more in our favor.”
Seungkwan huffed a laugh and buried his face in his hands. “I’m a murderer.”
“No-” Hansol began.
But Seungcheol quickly spoke over him. “It was self-defense. If you hadn’t done it, you or Hansol would be dead right now. Maybe both. You weren’t given any other choice. That’s not murder. That’s survival. A judge would agree with me, if that’s how far you wanted to go.”
Hansol only barely noticed that Seungcheol spoke his real name, but he didn’t care. Seungkwan’s hands were trembling again, and he was far more concerned with that than anything else. He wanted to take them, hold them, kiss them until they stopped.
Seungkwan dropped his hands between them. Hansol didn’t take them.
“I can’t call it in,” Seungkwan said.
Seungcheol frowned. “Why?”
“Reputation,” Seungkwan answered. “If word gets out that a paramedic was taken hostage, no one will care which gang did it. All that matters is that it happened, and every service into the area would stop. Even if everyone cleaned themselves up by tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter. You wouldn’t see another ambulance out here for the next five to ten years.
“If it gets out later… they’ll think I hid it because I was guilty of something. That I-... That I killed him for another reason. Even if people know later, it can still be okay. But I can’t call it in.”
Hansol… pressed his hand over Seungkwan’s wrist. Somehow, it felt like it was the closest he was allowed to be. Resplendent. Perfect. Everything. Everything.
God, he fucking hated this. This isn’t what he wanted.
After a long pause, Seungcheol sighed. “Okay.” He stood, turned, but stopped. “Hansol.”
Hansol turned his head.
Seungcheol didn’t look back. “You put your family in danger today.”
… They were doing this now? Hansol furrowed his brow. “They weren’t in any danger. I just-”
“You put yourself there,” Seungcheol continued, finally looking at him. “You went into the open unarmed for a civilian-”
“I had to.”
“I know.” Seungcheol glanced between them. “Jeonghan told me about your request… All that matters is the family.”
That-... That sounded like a no… Hansol stood up. “I am the family.”
“You don’t understand-”
“No, I do!” Hansol wasn’t even sure that he did anymore, but he had to. Because if his version of things wasn’t the correct one, then he didn’t know what would happen next. “I’m tired of all this! I’m tired of this nobody bullshit! I don’t want him to be nobody anymore. I am the family, and he matters to me. He’s mine!”
It was the first time he said it aloud, the first time he really allowed himself to think it.
But it felt good. So he said it again. “He’s mine.”
Seungcheol was staring at him, somewhere between blank and unimpressed. Or maybe he was thinking. Hansol couldn’t read him. And he was too scared to look at Seungkwan, to see disgust or maybe indifference.
But when he swallowed hard and turned, Seungkwan was looking up at him in shock…
Seungcheol cleared his throat and glanced down at Seungkwan. “When’s your next shift?”
A pause. Seungkwan blinked, took a deep breath. “Six in the morning.”
“Are you going?”
“Yes. I have to.”
Hansol opened his mouth to protest, but Seungcheol spoke over him. “Hansol’s going with you.”
Seungkwan froze, glanced between the two of them. “He can’t-”
“Fuck HIPAA,” Seungcheol replied easily. “If the streets are saying that you’re running with us, then you’re in our level of danger. We should at least give you our level of protection, too, for both you and DK. Consider it repayment for saving the lives of my boys. And besides-” He made eye contact with Hansol. “I want him to see a day in your life.”
Then Seungcheol turned and left the room.
—
They didn’t talk about it.
They didn’t talk about any of it.
Hansol wanted to so badly. There were so many things he needed to know, so many questions circling his heart, threatening to drive him insane if he didn’t get the answers he needed.
Join us, he wanted to say. Be a part of my family, and this will never happen again.
But Seungkwan’s eyes were still dull, tears still clinging to his lashes, and Hansol couldn’t. Especially when he knew what the answer would be.
After hours of people coming and going through the common room, Hansol finally knelt down next to him again. “You can stay with me,” he offered in a whisper. “In my room.”
Nothing. No response.
Hansol bit his lip. “If you want.”
“Okay.”
Hansol’s shoulders relaxed. “Okay.”
—
“I beg your pardon?” was DK’s first words upon seeing Hansol before dawn the next morning. Not ‘hello’, not ‘what are you doing here’- Just freezing mid-step and staring at Hansol like he was a train wreck playing out before his eyes.
“I’ll explain on the road,” Seungkwan said, throwing a bag into the passenger side.
And he did. Strangely enough, he actually did.
Hansol had been regulated to the back of the truck, only being part of the conversation via the tiny open door. They were in a gas station’s parking lot, some energy drinks and breakfast burritos scattered across the front console, but they were currently all sitting still, in silence.
“I killed him,” Seungkwan said. “I had to.”
DK… grasped one hand on the wheel, squeezing tight before releasing it with a deep sigh. “Fuck, man… You have to report this.”
“I can’t-”
“I know why,” DK interrupted, “but what if it happens again? What if it’s someone else? A trainee or something?”
“I can’t.” Seungkwan looked over at DK, eyes glassy before looking down at the floorboard.
“Hey.” And DK reached out, his hand wrapping around Seungkwan’s slender wrist. Hansol wanted to pull him off, but he couldn’t. This was the first time Seungkwan had talked about the whole thing, the first time he emotionally reacted since the initial fallout.
He hadn’t even slept the night before. The two of them had just held each other until the alarm went off.
This was probably what Seungkwan needed. Not Hansol’s silence.
DK shook his head. “You don’t have to go out there today.”
Seungkwan laughed, the sound hollow and watery. “I’m not letting you do this alone.”
“I’m not alone,” DK argued, nodding to the back. “I’m going to make Vernon work his ass off. He’s going to earn this burrito.”
Seungkwan laughed. Smiled. Small and trembling but real.
Hansol shifted, sitting straighter, leaning closer to catch a better glimpse. It was the first time- The first time in weeks-
DK didn’t seem as taken by it. “I’m serious. You don’t have to do this.”
Seungkwan took a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. “No. No, I do. I want to.”
DK stared him down for a moment, the same way Seungcheol sometimes stared at Hansol. Then he moved his hand, burying it in Seungkwan’s hair instead. “All right. But I’m taking the lead today.”
“Okay, hyung,” Seungkwan answered in a quiet voice.
The radio crackled to life.
—
Hansol checked the time on his phone. Eight in the goddamn morning. It had been two hours.
The first call was Ms. Darcy’s house. Hansol and Seungkwan had an argument about whether or not he should be allowed out of the truck since he couldn’t really protect him from in here, but DK had waved a hand and called them a married couple before ditching them both.
Which landed Hansol standing in Ms. Darcy’s living room as she came out of the kitchen with a fresh baked pie, complaining that she woke that morning feeling ‘a bit funny’ and her prosthetic leg was ‘a bit more rattly than usual’ and ‘oh, do you boys like apple pie? I made too much’ and so on.
“She’s old and lonely,” DK explained, trying to open the truck’s door when one hand was reserved for pie and the other for hard candies. “We’re a couple of pretty young men that take her blood pressure when she asks, so she calls every morning. Pie’s good, though, right?”
The second call was the underpass on the westside. A tent city. Hansol protested going there. DK and Seungkwan both rolled their eyes and ignored him.
The instant they arrived, someone fist bumped DK and pointed them deeper into the field of shopping carts and ice chests. Hansol expected an overdose or a stabbing or a-
“Spider bite,” Seungkwan said when he got a look at the older man’s leg. “Crazy question, but do you still have the spider somewhere?”
“Bro,” a very high woman next to them happily gasped, pulling a jar out of her long robe. “You like spiders, too? Check him out.” Hansol didn’t know his spiders, but he recognized a dead one pretty easily.
“Oh, thanks,” Seungkwan said, squinting at it. “You mind if we take this jar to the hospital with us?”
“Only if you bring it back. With Jerry. I named him Jerry.”
“I’ll take care of Jerry. Don’t worry about him.”
The third call-... Well, Hansol learned a lot about the trials and tribulations of diabetes on the third call.
“Your gun stays in this truck,” DK said firmly while they were speeding towards the house. “A lot of shit goes wrong with low blood sugar and a fucking boom-boom-stick is not going to help.”
After a lot of back and forth, Hansol had reluctantly agreed. Now that he was in the house and a very large, very sweaty, very angry, very naked man was looming over them, he kind of regretted it. Especially when Seungkwan nudged him and said, “run to the couch,” like he wasn’t trying to get him killed.
But Hansol did it, the distraction somehow working long enough for DK to stab the man with a needle.
The fourth call was a church. The congregation was supposedly getting things set up to have a book sale later that day when an old man collapsed with a seizure.
He seemed used to it, though, talking easily with Seungkwan and DK while they loaded him into the truck on a stretcher. Apparently, because of his age and medical history, he thought a quick ride to the hospital was for the best, and the experts appeared to agree.
“You should stop by later, if you get the time,” the old man said, raising a shaky hand to Seungkwan with a smile. “Ten cent books. Can’t- Can’t beat that anywhere.”
Seungkwan had given a small smile back in return. “You look like you’re stealing some of the product, though.”
“Oh, I brought this from home,” the man said, gesturing at the book clutched tight in his other hand. Of Mice and Men, the cover said. “You ever read it?”
And now, eight in the morning.
They hadn’t even left the hospital parking lot yet.
The fucking radio was crackling to life again.
Hansol was exhausted.
It had been two hours.
“What the fuck?” he whispered to himself.
DK laughed at him, picking up the receiver.
From what Hansol could understand, the call sounded more or less normal. Something at an old flea market, something about difficulty breathing. But DK and Seungkwan had stopped to stare at one another for a long moment before DK answered with a response time.
When he hung the receiver back, there was a new tension in the cabin that Hansol had to break. “What’s wrong?”
DK looked at Seungkwan.
Seungkwan sighed. “It’s a meeting place. The group-... The ones from yesterday. Their group, when something’s wrong and someone needs help, they always call to meet us here instead of-”
“We’re not going,” Hansol said, feeling a little like he lost his mind two calls ago. “Are you crazy? We can’t go.”
“We have to go,” DK answered with a tense jaw. “Besides, I want to see what they have to say.”
“Just-” Seungkwan raised a hand towards Hansol, like he was trying to keep him calm, like Seungkwan’s voice wasn’t the one shaking just a little. “Just let us do this. If something happens, that’s why you’re here, right?”
“Why would you help them?” Hansol asked.
“No one said we were,” DK answered with finality before Seungkwan could get a word in. “And if their leader has a brain still left in his skull, then he knows we won’t. This is something else.”
Hansol chewed his lip, but didn’t argue anymore. He did text Seungcheol, though.
17 choi seungcheol [08:04]
Keep an eye on things. Trust your gut. Get out if it looks bad.
So that was no help.
Sure enough, when they drove into the lot, the flea market was obviously closed and one car was idling outside. There were two people inside the car, a man and a woman. Upon seeing them pull up, the man got out and showed his empty hands.
DK took a deep breath and got out of the car, Seungkwan following after him and leaving the door open. Hansol stayed in place, gun already in his hand.
They approached each other, meeting at the trunk of the car, everyone tense even as the man sighed, trying to alleviate the mood. “I heard about what happened yesterday,” he said, eyes on Seungkwan. “I’m sorry. They proposed the idea to me, but I told them no. I didn’t believe they would try it anyway.”
Hansol didn’t believe him. Or maybe he just didn’t want to.
“I wanted to apologize properly,” he continued, slowly opening the trunk and taking out a large manilla envelope so full of something that it was rounded and bursting. He handed it to Seungkwan. “Compensation for your trouble.”
Seungkwan didn’t take it. Neither of them moved.
The man sighed again. “My people aren’t thriving here,” he began. “Yesterday’s problem happened because we were on our last legs. Seventeen has driven us out of every nook and cranny we could fit ourselves into. And now, I’m down three more men because of their own stupid behavior.”
He dropped the package at their feet. “What’s left of me and mine are leaving town,” he continued. “If you’re smart, you’ll do the same. Either leave… or join up for real. That goes for both of you.”
The man looked between them, then turned away when they didn’t speak. He got into the car, shut the door, and drove away.
Hansol climbed out of the truck and stepped in front of them, picking up the package, checking it for any sort of trap or-
“It’s money, Hansol,” Seungkwan sighed.
Hansol opened it.
Yep. That was money.
Twenty minutes and fifteen miles away later, DK was squinting at a bill clutched between his hands against the rising sun, trying to see if it was real. “We could pay off both our student loans with all this,” he muttered absently to himself.
Seungkwan was playing with a bill between his hands, folding it over and over until creases began to form in the overly straight paper. “Hansol,” he began quietly, not looking away from his hands, “Seungcheol said yesterday that Jeonghan spoke to him about something you wanted. Your request.” Then he looked up, met his eyes. “What was it?”
—
There had been stipulations. Conditions.
Seungkwan didn’t want to stop working. That had been the big one. He still wanted to serve the community. And, no, he wasn’t going to become a drug smuggler for them.
Seungcheol wanted to make sure everyone understood their place. Somehow, to him, it was more about Hansol than Seungkwan.
There had been a lot of talk, a lot of meetings, a lot of passing time. Everyone needed to be sure about this.
And so, a year passed.
Seventeen had grown more powerful, no longer needing street brawls or to weed out competitors. There were no competitors now. Their home was theirs again, but things had gotten so big that they couldn’t stop.
Jeonghan had bought a club, though. High class and sleek, only serving drinks that were meant to be sipped rather than chugged. White floor, white walls, white chairs. The only person he had let in on the planning stages had been Seungkwan, citing that he didn’t care if he wasn’t a full member yet. Seungkwan, according to Jeonghan, was the only one with an eye for aesthetics. Minghao and Joshua had both fumed from that remark, but that had probably been the goal.
It was opening night, only their closest allies mingling about. Hansol had been told to wait at the bar for Seungkwan, to wait for his surprise. His fingers tapped against his glass of wine, the wait agonizing.
He hadn’t smoked since that night on the porch with Seungcheol, something in the back of his mind telling him that it would make Seungkwan balk and turn away. But sometimes, it was harder to resist than others.
He didn’t like surprises much. And Seungkwan never had a surprise for him.
Well. Not one that he would like seen in public, anyway.
Hansol heaved a groan and turned his back on the bar, glancing around the room. Even DK had come out tonight, glancing at Hansol with a little smile from across the lounge, pressed smartly into his dark navy suit. Another new member in the making, still some time yet on his clock.
Minghao came over to Hansol with a smug grin, lightly clasping him on the arm. “You’re dressed nice.”
“Just a suit,” Hansol said, straightening up a little and squaring his shoulders. It was all black. Black slacks, black shirt, black tie, black vest, black jacket- Chan insisted that Seungkwan would like it.
“You look good,” Minghao complimented. “Stop acting like you’re about to shit yourself.”
“Seungkwan said he had a surprise.”
“Did he?”
Hansol glanced at him.
Minghao smiled back.
Hansol blinked. “I don’t like surprises.”
“It’s Seungkwannie, though,” Minghao said, stealing his wine and taking a sip. “You’ll like it.”
Hansol scowled back at him, feeling left out of the loop. Was there something going on that he didn’t know about?
Just when he was about to start questioning the other man, the doors to the main lounge opened, and Hansol’s attention was immediately taken by the angel that walked inside.
Seungkwan. Glowing. Beautiful. He was dressed in black slacks and a black blazer, a simple silver chain around his neck that Hansol had gifted him for his birthday, and that was it. No tie. No shirt. Seungkwan rolled his shoulders, his hands finding the single button on his jacket, making sure it was cinched around his torso just right.
But his chest- Peeking out from beneath the folds, right above his heart, dark lines bright over angry red skin-
Resplendent. Fucking- Even in Hansol’s wildest fantasies, he didn’t imagine-
He met Seungkwan halfway across the floor before he even noticed what he was doing, Hansol’s hands finding Seungkwan’s waist, trying to take a deep breath- “Oh my fucking God.”
Seungkwan smiled up at him. At him. Warm and sweet and dangerous. “Do you like it?”
Hansol leaned forward to take a deep kiss. He didn’t care who was in the room with them. Didn’t care if Seungcheol was looking, whether he approved or not. Didn’t care about anything aside from the beautiful, perfect being in his arms at this very moment.
The kiss broke. “You’re beautiful,” Hansol managed to say, his forehead pressing to Seungkwan’s. “I love you.”
It wasn’t the first time he said it. Seungkwan’s hand dancing against his jaw said it wouldn’t be the last.
“I love you, too,” Seungkwan whispered back.
His. Forever.