Work Text:
“-yong!”
Taeyong struggles to regain consciousness, vision unable to focus. Distantly, he hears a loud beeping, and frantic shouting coupled with loud banging on a metallic surface.
“Taeyong, if you can hear me please respond.” He takes in his surroundings. He’s in a chair in the middle of a small warehouse, vaguely remembering a sharp blow to the head before abruptly losing consciousness, confirmed by searing pain on the side of his head and warm wetness trailing down his temple.
“Taeyong, please,” The voice grows frantic at a lack of response. He feels chains binding his hands behind him and his feet to the legs of the chair. When he looks down, his heart sinks to his gut when he spots the source of the loud beeping - a bomb, strapped to his chest with duct tape, the time on it showing less than five minutes, and steadily decreasing. Whoever wanted him dead had a sick sense of humor. “Who’s there?” his voice sounds hoarse from disuse. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out. The voice answers with a hint of relief. “Taeyong, thank god. Hold on, I’m gonna get you out of there.”
“Johnny?” He sees the doors jostle, once, twice, three times as someone rams against it from the other side, trying to break in. He hears Johnny stop to catch his breath, struggling to undo whatever’s holding the doors shut with audible frustration. “Shit, there are chains on the door. I don’t have anything to break them with. Sit tight, Yongie. The other’s are heading here as fast as they can.” Taeyong can feel his panic building, making his skin crawl. He tries slipping his arms free to no avail. They’re tightly bound, chains wound all the way up to his forearms.
“Johnny,” Shouting hurt, his ribs felt bruised. He remembers struggling against his captors, who caught him alone and outnumbered, before being knocked out cold. “Johnny, listen. There’s a bomb strapped to my chest and it’ll blow in a little more than four minutes. You need to get clear of the blast.”
“And leave you behind? Are you out of your mind?” He hears a grunt as the doors jostle again a couple times, harder than before. “Who else am I supposed to spend our off days with? I can’t go back to third-wheeling Jaehyun and Doyoung.” Johnny jokes in-between his panting. His frantic tone overshadows the humor in his voice.
“Johnny please, you can’t be here,” Taeyong’s voice wavers. Johnny doesn’t answer, opting to continue ramming the doors as hard as he can, only stopping to catch his breath once every few tries. It won’t be giving way anytime soon, Taeyong knows. He looks down and sees the timer nearing 3 minutes, dread a heavy weight in his chest. He wants so desperately to peel it off him, wants it as far away as possible from him, but he can’t move. Johnny can.
“Johnny!” the desperate ramming pauses at his shout, the sound of the timer beeping growing to be deafening. The only indication of Johnny’s presence was his heavy breathing.
Taeyong hangs his head tiredly, eyes shut tight to fight back the flood of panic. Of all the rough training he went through, nothing could have prepared him for feeling this helpless. He wonders if Johnny feels the same way, on the other side of the doors.
He involuntarily sees his life flashing before his eyes - his parents, his sister, his team, and Johnny. He’d scoff at how cliché it all feels if he weren’t preoccupied with noticing how much Johnny took up most of the precious memories he has. They’d never thought to put a label on their relationship before this,
but it no longer felt casual. He could see the depth of Johnny’s feelings when he looks him in the eyes, impossible to be mistaken for anything else - but they’ve never truly talked about what they mean to each other. In their line of work, romantic relationships are difficult to pull off. But now it struck him hard, how much Taeyong didn’t want to lose him, at the very least not before letting Johnny know how he feels.
Taeyong steadies his voice as much as he can despite the emotions suffocating him.
“Youngho, leave. Please.”
The sound of a fist striking the door hard made him jump, followed by a few long seconds of silence. Taeyong’s heartbeat is loud in his ears, almost louder than the beeping.
“I’m not leaving, Yong-ah.” Johnny’s voice is ragged, maybe from panting, maybe from trying but failing to hide his despair. “I’m staying right here, with you.”
Taeyong’s heart seizes, and his eyes burn. “You can’t.” He looks down at the timer again. Two minutes. The dread grows heavier, until it’s almost unbearable. “You need to run, right now.” He’s repeating himself, sounding gradually more desperate. “While there’s still time to get somewhere safe.”
Johnny doesn’t answer right away, sounds of him pulling at the chains around the handles filter through the door. “Remember what I said two years ago?” Johnny said with faux calmness, steadfastly ignoring Taeyong’s pleas. “That time in Jeju. I said I’d follow you anywhere.”
Taeyong huffs an incredulous laugh, sounding strained. “That was an argument over which ride to pick at an amusement park, Johnny.” It's such an obscure memory, he's surprised Johnny still remembers. Taeyong had wanted to go through a haunted house, while Doyoung, like the wuss he is, adamantly refused and opted for the gigantic roller coaster instead, everyone else agreeing with him. Everyone - except Johnny, who went with Taeyong’s pick even though he hated scares. Taeyong was so moved, he kissed him in one of the dark, deserted hallways of the haunted house.
Things were simpler then, the attraction between them new and magnetic - like a couple of middle schoolers in their first relationship. That was before they graduated the academy and had to face the jarring reality of their profession. Life-threatening missions, both not knowing if the other would get home in one piece every time they left.
“I know. But I meant what I said,” He could hear the smile in Johnny’s voice when he answered. “I meant it then, and I mean it now.”
Taeyong couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over his cheeks, emotions bursting forth under the immense stress of the situation, like a dam breaking. Johnny continued calmly, as if his words weren’t the only thing keeping Taeyong afloat. “No matter where you’re headed, I’m there with you.”
Taeyong hangs his head, not knowing how to respond. Through the blur of his tears he sees the timer showing little more than a minute.
The words he wanted to say are heavy on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t voice them, afraid that doing so might make him feel like he’s accepted his fate. He wants to survive this, he wants to say those words in the privacy of their shared room, to breathe them over Johnny’s skin. He stays silent in defiance of the circumstances, watching the timer as he lets the seconds tick by.
—
A commotion outside makes him snap his head up, the motion causing the room to spin momentarily. He can hear the chains holding the doors together being undone, giving him a surge of hope. He looks down to the timer, twenty seconds. He wriggles in the chair, itching to get closer to the doors, to do anything to get him out of this situation quicker.
The doors burst open and in barges Johnny, looking worse for wear, Jaehyun, Mark and Donghyuck following close behind. The youngest makes a beeline towards him, immediately examining the explosive strapped to his chest and the colored wires attached to it. The others work on getting his arms and legs free, carrying tools to cut the chains. His team is nothing if not efficient.
Showing his impeccable skill that earned him perfect marks in the academy, Donghyuck easily defuses the source of the panic in less than 3 seconds, and everyone breathes out sighs of relief.
“Quick work, Hyuck-ah.” Mark praises him and gives him a one-armed hug after dealing with the chains around Taeyong’s legs. Donghyuck’s relieved smile is blinding.
Still buzzing with anxiety and adrenaline, Taeyong squirms in the seat until Jaehyun manages to drop the chains around his arms, then he launches up to wrap his arms around Johnny’s larger build, ignoring the twinge of pain in his ribs. Sturdy arms immediately wrap around him in response, a cheek nuzzling the uninjured side of his head. The warmth causes his panic to finally start dissipating.
He hears Jaehyun's chuckle behind him, and Donghyuck's scoff of mock disgust, “Yah, at least wait until we’re back at HQ before you start climbing all over each other.” He feels, more than sees, Johnny flip them off, and Taeyong laughs into the shoulder he buried his face in, composing himself before stepping out of the comforting circle of Johnny’s arms.
The rest of the day felt like a blur to Taeyong, the trip back to HQ and being dragged to medical by a worried Doyoung. He got an x-ray despite his protests that he’s completely fine, and gets reassured that his skull is intact and his ribs are just bruised, not cracked. He’s diagnosed with a mild concussion, and gets painkillers for the ungodly headache he feels beginning to form.
They went through their debriefing like clockwork, then took a car back to the dorms the team shared. They ended the day in such an achingly normal way, even earlier than the time they usually get off - a complete juxtaposition of the events earlier that day, and it throws Taeyong off just a little bit.
—
“You’ve got something on you, hyung.” Jaehyun amusedly pointed at the tall, man-shaped growth stuck to Taeyong’s back, arms encircling his waist from behind and a chin hooked over his shoulder, chestnut hair tickling the left side of Taeyong’s face.
Taeyong huffs out a laugh. “Don’t get too close, i think it bites.”
Johnny looks mildly affronted. “Listen, I’m not the one who bites during sex.” Taeyong slaps his forearms in indignation as he watches Jaehyun’s eyebrows rising far too high as he processes the information, before slowly turning to head towards the couch, not wanting to hear any more about their habits in bed.
Doyoung, on the couch, just shouts a disgusted “TMI, you heathens.”
To Taeyong's amusement, Johnny remains stuck to his back even as he navigates the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. His proximity to Taeyong has been a constant for the past three days now, ever since they arrived home after the whole bomb incident.
Taeyong knows part of it is Johnny offering him comfort, but he suspects that the taller man is doing it to reassure himself just as much as he is Taeyong. Neither of them left that warehouse without being a little bit shaken up.
They shuffled past the common area to head back to their shared room, Taeyong steadily holding two cups of coffee while dragging Johnny’s weight. Doyoung watches them pass by with a shake of his head.
“Hyung, we’re heading out to eat in 10 minutes. Wanna come with?” He asks, expectant. They’re on mandatory leave, a break they normally get after each mission for the sake of their mental health. All of them spend that time winding down in their own way.
Taeyong, however, has barely left his room in the past three days, which is unusual for someone who usually seeks out the company of others, who enjoys heart-to-heart talks as a way to relieve tension. He can see it’s worrying Doyoung and everyone else, just a bit.
Johnny stays in with him, only ever leaving him alone to grab food for the both of them, or to shower or use the bathroom. Taeyong doesn’t mind the company one bit.
“I’ll pass. Sorry, maybe next time.” He replies sheepishly. Doyoung deflates a tiny bit, but nods in understanding. Jaehyun places a hand on his thigh in comfort.
—
They got to their room, Johnny kicking the door closed behind them. Taeyong stands still for a moment, sighing. The arms around him tighten. "They won't blame you for needing some time, Yongie." He nods mutedly, thankful for the reassurance. For a moment, he wondered what he did to deserve his very own Baymax.
He manages to put the cups on a table before he tries turning around, only to trip on Johnny’s absurdly long legs, resulting in the both of them tumbling onto the bed with a yelp and some laughter.
Taeyong landed on top of Johnny, and hissed slightly at the abuse on his bruised ribs. Johnny looked up in concern, their noses brushing. “You okay?” Taeyong scoffs at the unnecessary concern, lifting himself up on his forearms.
“I’m not made of glass, you dolt. I’m more worried about you landing on your shoulder. How is it?” His hand brushes the shoulder in question. Johnny exaggerates the touched look on his face, then makes kissy faces at Taeyong, who takes the expression as an indication that he’s completely fine, and proceeds to smother him with a pillow.
They move up the bed to lay together, something they’ve been doing a lot in the past few days. Taeyong has his head on the dip between Johnny’s pecs and shoulder, eyes closed in a trance as Johnny brushes fingers through his silver-dyed hair, careful not to disturb the gauze that covers the stitches on the right side of his head.
They’ve explored the full extent of each other’s injuries the very night of the incident, Taeyong sporting a torso littered with bruises from the hits he took trying to fight off his captors. Both Johnny’s shoulders were no better, a testament to how hard he tried to ram through the doors to get to Taeyong. His hands were bandaged, which Taeyong later found out was from repeatedly yanking on the chains that held the doors together, trying to break them with his bare hands simply because he refused to leave even for a second to find any tool he could use.
Taeyong’s heart felt full, reminded of the promises Johnny made at the spur of the moment, one he seems intent on keeping if his behavior in the past three days was any indication. He looked after Taeyong, waking him up every two hours on the first night to make sure the concussion doesn’t do any permanent damage, staying awake with him through the following nights when Taeyong’s thoughts kept him up.
And yet, they still haven’t gotten around to talking about their feelings. Taeyong finds it hilarious that they’re currently living up to the male stereotype of being scared of acknowledging their own emotions. Right now, though, he’s ready. He just doesn’t know how to start the conversation.
“You wanna talk about what happened?” Johnny asked, reading into his thoughts with terrifying precision. Taeyong figures that was as good a chance as any.
“I know we’ve never talked about this seriously before, but,” The hands brushing through his hair paused. He lifted his head to look Johnny in the eye. “What am I to you?”
Johnny carefully shifted Taeyong off of him and shuffled down the comforter to lay on his side, facing the latter, noses barely three inches apart. Taeyong looked into dark eyes, the depths of which the afternoon light filtering in through the partially shuttered windows are unable to reach. Eyes that unabashedly reveal the depths of his emotions to Taeyong, so much so that he pretty much knows the answer before Johnny even starts speaking.
He distantly wonders if his own eyes reveal just as much.
“You mean so much to me,” Johnny starts, voice low and serious. “I meant what I said, I’d follow you anywhere, Taeyong.
"If I could, I’d never let you out of my sight ever again,”
Taeyong feels his breath catch at the weight of Johnny’s words. Johnny lifts a hand to his cheek, thumb gently swiping over the eyebags that have only increased in size in the past couple of days.
“So don’t ever tell me to leave you behind.”
Taeyong blinks, processing his words with a calm clarity. After spending a minute or so in the depth of Johnny’s gaze, he lifts himself up, and with a bravado he rarely shows, positions his knees on either side of Johnny’s waist to straddle him. Johnny sits up to face him, hands on Taeyong’s hips, their faces once again only inches apart.
Taeyong cups Johnny’s face with both his hands, trying to commit his facial features to memory, in case he ever finds himself somewhere Johnny can't reach again. He’s never been more sure of anything in his entire life.
“I feel the same way,” A weight begins to lift off his chest as he says the words he’s been dying to convey, “And I love you too.” Johnny’s eyes widen slightly. Taeyong smiles in triumph at being the one to say it first, but he knows that Johnny has been saying it to him for years on end, in many ways - be it through his actions, his promises, or the emotion in his eyes when he looks at Taeyong.
Johnny wastes no time and lifts a hand to the back of Taeyong’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss.
They’ve kissed countless times before, but this feels different. Taeyong feels like all of himself is laid bare for Johnny to see, and vice versa. Hands pulling until it’s no longer physically possible to bring their bodies any closer.
They separate to catch their breaths after what feels like forever, foreheads touching, eyes locked. They stay that way for a long minute, just basking in the afterglow of their confession.
Taeyong smiles then, showing a full row of perfect teeth. “I’ve changed my mind about dinner, let’s go out. I want to hold hands with you while we walk down the sidewalk.” Johnny’s answering laugh incites butterflies in his stomach.