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“Table for Jeon?”
“Yes, Mr. Jeon has already arrived. Your table will be right this way, sir.”
The waiter gestures with his right arm and the other tucked by his side securing two menus as he leads the way deep into the chandelier-lited restaurant.
It’s the last day of the week and the building is occupied with elites finding haven from a tireless work schedule, indulging themselves in a date night or social gathering.
Following the waiter, he eyes his surroundings while keeping his expression devisingly calm, simply enjoying the luxurious atmosphere of the restaurant. He ignores the bitterness on his tongue as he watches the diners get wine drunk, all giggly and boisterously loud amongst their chatter. His heels tread across the dark maroon velvet carpet. As the waiter leads him through a short bridging corridor of the interior, he knows the table before they approach it. The one with a red rose by an occupied seat.
“Here is your table, sir.” Laying down the two menus neatly and with a promise of coming back to take their orders, the waiter is gone.
The man sitting at the table, Mr. Jeon as he’s called, is handsome, devilishly so. He has his hair styled back neatly with product, not a single hair out of place. His eyebrows are dark and angled at a slant to where his resting face is easily intimidating to anyone especially paired with those piercing eagle eyes.
His toned lean build is adorned in a crisp pinstripe business suit pressed neatly with no wrinkles in sight. But the silver-framed glasses resting on his tall nose gives away the boyish charm his round eyes and petite square jaw fail to hide,
As he approaches, the man is already standing up from his seat, offering his hand out.
“Hello, Mister…” Mr. Jeon trails off. Ivory , he wants to say. The man only knows him by that. Calling him by his alias name out loud may seem a bit odd for him.
Taking the man’s hand and deciding to have a little fun letting his fingers brush against the other’s longer than a handshake constitutes, he displays his practiced smile that has left many men astray and decides it’s okay to give him his name.
“Please,” he commits fully to the man’s eyes in his gaze, “Call me Hoseok.”
He’ll be dead by tonight anyways.
_________
Jeongguk fixes his cufflinks, checking his appearance in the mirror of the restaurant’s restroom. He had arrived a plausible fifteen minutes before the scheduled arrival time they agreed upon through text.
Knowing how much of a perfectionist most assassins are, he figured it fits his cover to do just that.
A young, successful businessman, used to wanting to impress so he’s always prepared for meetings explaining how he managed to rise to the top. A bad habit that can’t be fixed, not comfortable with the feeling of anxiety if he doesn’t always show up at least fifteen minutes before a planned meeting.
Especially an important one such as today.
“Agents in place. Jeon, return to the table ,” Namjoon’s voice buzzes in his ear. He gives his tie one last tug to smooth it out.
“Copy.”
He swings open the door and walks back to his table.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spots agent Seokjin and Jaehwan seated at the table across the room diagonal from his designated table intentionally in their line of vision. They were engaged in a deep conversation, laughing from time to time picking their food. To his left, he pinpoints agent Jimin at the bar swirling his cocktail pick around in his drink, preoccupied with the football game on the tv screen.
Jeongguk gets to his seat and surveys his surroundings with a curious, collected manner, not wanting to seem suspiciously too observant.
Not that it was his choice but this meeting fell on a Friday.
Jeongguk wasn’t born yesterday to know the person behind their contract didn’t just choose the busiest day of the week per coincidence.
Thankfully there didn’t appear to be any overly large groups of diners tonight. Just pairs of diners tricking in from the front desk, which is good. It’s hard to get a reservation for more than two at an exclusive place like this anyways.
“Target has entered the building. Everyone, in positions.”
Jeongguk sees him when he turns the corner, following behind the waiter. He recognizes his face from the sleepless nights his team has had his mugshot pinned on the board.
Going over the his file in his head:
Jung Hoseok. Ivory.
29. Proxy Killer. Assassin.
Modus Operandi: Shooting, Honeytrapping
Member of the hitman network, Silk Road
Frankly, Jeongguk must admit the mugshot doesn’t do him justice to how he looks in real life.
Ivory is wearing an emerald silk blouse with billowy poet sleeves cuffing primly at his thin wrists. The collar of the blouse tapers into soft waves of ruffles accentuating his collarbones and a modest showcase of his chest. And to top it off, a matching silk scarf wrapped delicately around his neck.
He walks with ease across the dining area in the direction of Jeongguk.
“Oh, this is a honeytrap, alright,” Jimin quietly mutters into his martini glass.
Jeongguk stands up from his seat as the man approaches. Now that they are face to face, he notices the assassin is still about three centimeters shorter than him, noting the nude pumps peeking underneath the high-waisted black pants.
He offers out his hand, feigning a subtle bashful smile when the other takes it.
“Hello, Mister…”
“Please,” the almond eyes flutter to meet his own for the first time that night and Jeongguk finds his resolve withering away early in the night. “Call me Hoseok. It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Jeon.”
He has encountered prettier criminals prior to Ivory. Has he?
The nagging voice in his head scolds him for even wandering and entertaining such a menial self-conflicted debate.
The waiter promises his return as they look through the menu. Once they’re gone, Hoseok is the first to initiate the conversation.
“I am sorry for changing our plans on such short notice.” Hoseok’s eyes are soft with apology. “I heard this place had a special course I’ve been dying to try. And I felt like it suits talking about our... date better.”
Jeongguk waves off the apology with a flick of a hand. “It’s no bother, it was a simple change of address for my driver” to which Hoseok’s shoulders visibly relaxes.
He pauses for a moment before stepping into the shallows of where the conversation was going, “Though I didn’t know this was considered a date.”
The raven-haired man didn’t shy away from checking him out, “I must admit Mr. Jeon, you were not what I was expecting.”
“And what were you expecting?”
“Oh, the usual. I’ve done this countless times… Typically an old man in his forties to fifties, give or take. Usually not much of a sight to be truthful with you.”
“And I’m a sight? Truthfully?” Jeongguk presses, flashing a charming smile.
“Of course.” Hoseok leans forward on his elbows and tails around the rim of the flute glass with a finger, “Surely, that’s how you met your wife. I can’t imagine turning down someone like you.”
Jeongguk lets out a stifled laugh then clears his throat, repositioning his hands in front of him on the table. “You’re not wrong. We didn’t have much objections to the marriage. We both knew the marriage would help both our families.”
His guest nods in fake understanding, not that he needs to.
“How is she nowadays, your wife?” Hoseok continues, steering control of the discussion.
“Just came back from a business trip from Europe... She’s doing well.”
Hoseok hums, propping his chin up on the table. “That’s good. She sounds nice from what you’ve told me about her in our exchanges.”
“She is,” Jeongguk focuses his attention on reading the menu in front of him, giving the impression the topic discussed isn’t as dire as it actually is, “Just caught in the bad circumstance is all.”
“Well, that’s what I’m here for.” Jeongguk is met with a reassuring, bewitching grin, making him feel less of a horrible person in character.
Assuming that’s how every client of his follows through. Their guilt gets soothed by the inescapable words of a mesmerizing, contentious man who doesn’t really care for the morals of the contract.
Just as Jeongguk was about to reply, the waiter makes a reappearance to ask for their selected course.
While getting their menus out of the way, Jeongguk catches those bambi eyes flickering down to his hands. Narrowing for the quickest second before looking back up at him in the same flirtiness, Jeongguk has to remind himself he actually saw that.
“Remind me again how long you and your wife...?” Hoseok trails off.
“It’s been four years since the wedding.”
Hoseok makes a curt noise of agony at the thought.
“Marriage is prison. That thing on your finger—“ He gestures a finger to his three millimeter silver band, “are handcuffs. Or, that’s what I’ve heard.” He shoots him a sweet smile knowing the businessman agrees.
Then to Jeongguk’s surprise, Hoseok reaches his hand over the table placing it over his.
Their fingers slightly intertwined looking like every other couple here who came for a special date night, lost in their lover’s words, needing the other’s hands to ground each other. Or at least that’s what they probably appear like from a distance. In his right ear, he hears a firm remain stand-by from Namjoon, presumably towards Jimin who is closest to their table, understandably on high alert at Hoseok’s unexpected contact. Inwardly, Jeongguk inconsolably realizes he can’t tear his eyes away from Hoseok’s to find out if it is.
He can’t look away for two reasons: One, he’ll blow their cover. If his eyes were to even drift to Jimin or anyone for even a second, Hoseok will catch it. Whether Hoseok knows he’s an agent or not, they both agreed none of Jeongguk’s men are to be near the building. That was in the contract. He makes a mistake and he’s dead.
Two, Hoseok has really pretty eyes. There’s soft pink glitter dusted on his eyelid and his eyeliner wing is smoked out at the end. Jeongguk is certain had he never read the “ No. of Victims: 255 killed, 0 attempted ” on Hoseok’s file, he would’ve bought him a drink under different circumstances.
0 attempted. That number has been lingering in his mind all week.
It meant Hoseok never left survivors.
“You’re so young, Jeongguk. Can I call you Jeongguk?” Hoseok is looking at him differently now with expertly masked contempt.
Jeongguk nods. “Are we not around the same age?”
Hoseok has a smile on his face but it no longer reaches the same cheeky hue it had. He starts playing with Jeongguk’s fingers, playing with his ring.
“Not in experience, no.”
Jeongguk needs to play this part carefully. He needs to play his part carefully.
If the growing impatience, though not obvious, on the other’s face is anything to go by, Jeongguk decides to stray away from small talk.
“Maybe we just come from different starting points,” Jeongguk replies with a shrug, peering down at their lazily interlocked hands.
It bothers him how it doesn’t feel out of place at all. Maybe it was Hoseok’s perfume clouding the repulsion that he should be feeling. Him holding a hand that is responsible for lost lives, tainted in blood stains.
“I wouldn’t know what it’s like to be a contract assassin. And you wouldn’t know what it’s like to want your wife dead for her company.”
The corners of Hoseok’s lips curled into a feline smirk.
“Now we’re talking business.”
________
The case file slams flat on the meeting table as he watches Namjoon, the case officer, runs his hands through his blonde hair. “We got nothing on how to get to Ivory or The Chemist even with the new leverage we got.”
Jeongguk downed his fourth cup of bad coffee of the day, worn out in his own right. He watches Namjoon’s hair get disarrayed in all directions especially with the mullet length he’s been growing it at. He wonders if it’s on purpose. Probably not.
For all the professionalism and intelligence Namjoon has as their case officer, the input he has for his own additional personal care is little. He’s too deep in the job. They all are.
“We just haven’t found any obvious connections yet ,” Seokjin, their on-board doctor, speaks up.
He has his glasses on reading through his own copy of the file. The new information they managed to get a few days ago from bringing down two members of the hitman network had already been added. Luckily, when the team raided the building of their hideout, they found a USB hidden in the sole from one of their handler’s shoes.
They knew early on even with new data, any links to the other members of the network would be scarce. Direct contact and communication was not common amongst them. Many don’t even know each other’s faces, just aware of each other’s presence. Not that they’d be interested in that, they were all doing this for the same kinds of things. To kill. For whatever the reason that may be.
That’s the thing about independent contractors. They’re a tough job to crack. Catching one would still give you a dead end.
Once Taehyung, the team’s data analyst specialist, hacked into the drive, they realized just how many cases they have missed. The 50 written in Ivory’s file tallied up to be 255. The Chemist’s 97 rounded up to an even 100.
It made sense to how they could’ve missed more of Ivory’s. His specialty was silent kills. The bindings of the contract are built between him and higher-up businessmen who're more than willing to clean up for him and keep everything under wraps as long as he gets the job done. Like a shadow following you that isn’t your own.
The only way they know a kill is his, is from the signature .45 caliber, only using bullets with “Ivory” engraved.
The chemist, however, operated differently. He was more brazened. All scientists want recognition for their research. Clients of his who want to cause a public disruption on the news request for him. A man who leaves no trace of himself but presents new ways to show off his signature. Tetramethylenedisulfotetramine is a deadly poison.
Granted, that’s not his main signature because lately in his past five killings, his research shows experimentation with different forms of delivering the poison. How they know it’s always him is from the tiny litmus paper placed in the victim’s mouth, soaked in froth from the seizure.
They managed to hit some parallels in some old cases with the timeline and corresponding M.O but no new breakthroughs yet.
“The thing that’s adding up is Ivory’s mix of both contract kills and personal ones. The ones we’ve figured out haven’t shown any viable patterns in his killings,” Namjoon leans back in his chair, “We’re still waiting for Taehyung to finish combing through the drive and crosscheck them with any pending cases.”
“The good thing is we already know how to contact them for the job. The drive gave us a match on the CEO of Kwon enterprise and I got him to cough up the web address. So we’re close,” Jimin worries his lips, frowning while doing so. Jeongguk knows he’s getting restless. Both him and Jimin are the lead field agents on their team and even he’s getting antsy from staying in the boardroom for the past few days.
A shout rings just outside the door. Everyone raises their heads from their papers and there burst through Taehyung with his laptop balancing in one hand and a strawberry smoothie in the other, saying he always needs a sugar pick-me-up on the job.
Taehyung wastes no time hooking up his laptop to the big screen at the front of the room then turning around to face the team “We may have a lead.”
Everyone in the room perks up.
“So I managed to find some matching cases when I cross checked the timeline of the transactions the drive gave us. But I’ve also noticed something new,” Taehyung explains as the screen shows the spreadsheet of numbers and then narrowing down to a list of six rows.
“It was buried deep but when I was doing background checks through the list, I noticed these six clients were found dead just one day after their paid kills.”
Jimin furrows his brows. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would a hitmen kill the hand that pays them?”
“That’s the thing.” The screen pulls up photographs of sealed evidence, and they recognize it immediately. “It’s a reach but the bullets are from a .45, just with no signature like he usually does.”
“Ok so how do we know it’s him? Were there any fingerprints at the crime scene?”
“None. But there’s this…”
He prepared a graphic side by side with lab results and close-up photos of the cheeks of dead bodies. The lab tests showed the bullet matched the same firing ballistics as ivory’s previous kills. Most likely using the same gun, just different set of bullets. Jeongguk squints at the screen before raising an eyebrow when it hit him, “... is that… a lipstick stain?”
The fingers of their data analyst taps together repeatedly nervously, nodding. “Estée Lauder’s ivory lipstick line, in fact.”
It dawns on all of them quickly.
Namjoon is the first to break the stunned quietness, “Well that’s our guy, alright... Never thought to make the connection due to the change in M.O, Flew right under our radar.”
The analyst nods and turns around to take thick wads of manilla folders containing freshly printed papers from his messenger bag. “I have printed out all six of their background info for you guys.” The team choruses their thanks to him, reaching for the folders.
Seokjin, already putting on his reading glasses, looking at the tagged map of all the six hits. “Ivory keeps them scattered too. They’re all over the map with no solid geographical trail based on the timeline.”
The marker uncaps with Namjoon urgently jotting the notes down on the whiteboard in bullets. “The chances of these clients knowing each other are slim. That means there must be something else connecting them to Ivory.”
Jeongguk flips through all the files on their first page, checking on something. “The kills are spaced out too. His last kill was six months ago and before that, a year and a half. The oldest one being seven years ago.”
“That means we know it’s not an impulse kill,” Jimin adds, scanning the documents with intense focus, the frustration from earlier not to be found.
“Just an opportunity he can’t pass up.”
__________
“So tell me, Jeongguk.” Hoseok takes a sip of the champagne setting it down in front of him and says, “Why me?”
Jeongguk has long finished his meal, keeping his bites small, wanting to get it out of the way as quickly as he can without bringing attention to it. But it’s Hoseok who hasn’t nearly consumed half of his own.
Resorting to drinking the non-alcoholic makeshift champagne, courtesy of his team, for the remainder of the time, Jeongguk got the clear from Namjoon when the food was brought to the table. They had an agent behind kitchen doors testing the food as it’s served, not taking any chances in case Hoseok was feeling extra paranoid tonight and wanted to spend up the process.
He knew this was the assassin’s way of having fun. Ivory enjoyed discussing the arrangement in a public space with his clients but most importantly his team knew Jeongguk was a different kind of client to Hoseok tonight. The request for dinner confirmed it.
Planning a whole evening dressed in his best clothes with dinner paid for in a luxurious restaurant, that is what he wants. Seeing his client squirm in their seats knowing they can do nothing about it and that if they don’t adhere to Hoseok's rules, nothing follows through.
“Cause you’re the best,” Jeongguk simply answered. “Rumors from my referral also told me you were beautiful so when you asked for dinner, I figured I could move things aside. Seems like I’ve lucked out.”
Hoseok rolls his eyes in feign exasperation, preening at the flattery.
“I promise you, Jeongguk. Putting a bullet through someone’s head isn’t hard at all. Anyone can do it.” He tilts his head with an innocent smile, dragging his eyes over the dip of Jeongguk’s unbuttoned collar.
“You’re right but you never get caught,” Jeongguk says back before lowering his tone to a quieter volume.
“If I am to take over my wife’s company, the death will be publicized. I trust me when I say my in-laws won’t accept her death that easily. I cannot risk anything doubting my take-over that isn’t me being a grieving husband taking upon the burden for his late wife.”
When Jeongguk meets Hoseok’s eyes and it almost startles him how much hostility he can feel in the gaze.
To any other man, he would think Hoseok is gloating through his eyes and studying him, enjoying the desperation from a powerful man being at his whim. But knowing his profile, the eyes spoke to Jeongguk assuring him he had succeeded in angering Hoseok. But just as soon as he read them, that look was replaced with a neutral mask.
“Oh, you’re heartless, handsome.” Hoseok lets out a dreamily sigh. “You sure you don’t wanna work with me? Maybe I can take you under my wing.”
Jeongguk allows himself to chuckle at that. “That’d be something, wouldn’t it?”
“I mean, look at you,” the man’s perfectly manicured nails gestures to him and Jeongguk would be lying if he wasn’t relishing the way the assassin’s eyes were running over him, “You’re fit. Strong. You look like someone who can keep up with me.”
“Not used to having my hands dirty.”
Hoseok makes a noise in casual disagreement, “You get used to it.”
“That makes one of us.” And Jeongguk isn’t acting this time.
Something shifts in Hoseok’s eyes.
“Do something for me, Jeongguk.”
“Anything.”
Careful , the alluring eyes flashes, even when he knows Jeongguk is just joking along with their little game.
Hoseok sits up straighter in his seat, bringing his right hand over the table in front of Jeongguk which he held immediately, delicate with his hold.
“Your ring.”
Jeongguk peers down at his ring before raising an eyebrow at Hoseok in silent questioning. Then Hoseok raises one of his fingers above the rest, purring out his request.
“Put it on for me.”
“What?”
Jeongguk doesn’t even have to pretend to gape at Hoseok this time.
“Put it on me,” Hoseok urges now with a deadly convicting challenge laced in his voice. “As your sign of commitment… to our contract. To me.”
He goes breathless when he says that last part.
____
“We need to dig deep. The connection of clients could be in their personal lives and why they hired Ivory for the job,” Namjoon storms back into the conference room after another one of his briefings with the head director. “What do we have so far?”
Taehyung is already typing furiously on their laptop. “Sir, we have ruled out any similarities dealing with their occupations. They are all men of high position jobs but it’s too varied.”
“What about relationships with spouses? You gotta keep image up with family for the public. People of their status would need the promise of an heir or legacy,” Jimin twirls a pen in his hands, watching the screen as Taehyung enters the suggestions into his system.
“Kwon Donghae, married with a wife and 2 kids. Jang Soohyuk, married with kids. Lee Hyunbin, married with kids. Oh-” Taehyung pauses reading out loud. “The day before they were killed, it was their wives.”
Seokjin furrows his eyebrows. “Are children the common denominator? That’s his limit, right? Some killers don’t like involving kids in their work.”
Namjoon shakes his head, eyeing the board for a long moment. “Think about it. These are the only clients he asks to go to dinner with. He injects himself in that position to be the most risky out of all his clients cause he actually meets them face-to-face.”
“It’s personal to him,” Jeongguk mumbles. “Ivory would’ve been twenty-two when he first started killing. There’s no way he would’ve been able to adopt and passed the screening for it. He doesn’t settle in one place for long either.”
Taehyung grunts in agreement. “Jeongguk’s right. It’s not children, his past kills targeted families before.”
“So it has to be the marriage aspect then. Something similar happened to him. A lover who promised him everything but betrayed him to some degree,” Seokjin crosses his arms, flipping his folder closed.
“We don’t know that for sure-”
“And that‘s just a risk we’re gonna have to take.” Namjoon finalizes.
A silence falls on them. It’s a risk with the limited knowledge that they have to go off on but they don’t have much time left given by the department before the case can be passed onto another team out of their jurisdiction.
“Ok. So how are we baiting him?”
“We give him what he wants. A powerful man hiring him to kill his wife for whatever selfish, cruel reason,” Jimin explains, looking over at Jeongguk, mouthing (how could you?) with playful disdain to which Jeongguk rolled his eyes at.
“Why me?”
Now it’s Jimin’s turn to roll his eyes. “Looked in the mirror recently? Do you look like the type to be a good sport? You get so damn competitive when we take our field training tests. You’ll fit right in the alpha male pool.”
Jeongguk makes an offended noise at that. “Not my fault your aim is shi-”
“Guys, focus back up,” Namjoon claps his hands to regain their attention and the two of them sink into their seats in surrender. “Jeongguk, you’ll be our active agent on site. We will have Jimin and Seokjin near you for back-up. If anything goes south, at least we will outnumber him 3 to 1 on the primary field.”
Their case officer walks back up to the board and scribbles down a rough layout. “Once we get the order in for his contract, he will ask to meet up. Knowing his experience, he’ll be ready to change anything last minute. He’s too careful.” He draws out the tentative, general layout of a restaurant, writing down positions of other back-up agents they’ll need undercover as staff and the perimeters of the building. Marking JM and SJ at a spot north and south of Jeongguk’s designated table, giving both of them a clear diagonal view.
They work out the logistics even more further into the evening.
“Alright team, once Ivory claims our request, Taehyung will be ready to trace his device and we’ll be able to dig further into his identity so Jeongguk can prepare.”
Everyone mutters in agreement, aware of how late it has gotten.
“Hey Jeon!” Jimin calls out to him in the parking lot with Taehyung next to him inside his car. Jeongguk groans and props his elbows on the ledge of his front door, waiting for Jimin to drive up next to where he’s parked.
“Let me go home, Park,” Jeongguk deadpans, “I already see you too often.”
“Don’t forget to stop by the dry cleaners for your date!” And his car speeds away.
Jeongguk flips him off.
For a whole week leading up, they worked like madmen.
Namjoon curses despite hitting it right on the nose when they received a text just two hours before the meeting time from their target saying “Change of plans. Let’s try out the Renaissance Hall tonight. Is that ok? ♡ ”
A predictable pain in the ass, he called it. Nonetheless, the readied second batch was deployed straight to the changed destination without a second to spare.
They managed to dig up more information on Ivory’s Identity.
“Jung Hoseok. 29. Lived in Gwangju before moving to Gangnam. Engaged only for four months before divorce papers were signed under the name with a Park Seojoon but it was hidden under the covers,” Taehyung relays the newly surfaced information.
“And where’s Park Seojoon now?”
“Surprisingly? Not dead. His family runs one of the top biomedical engineering companies in Korea.”
Taehyung pulls up an article headliner showing Park Seojoon’s face next to a beautiful woman in a white wedding dress. “A month following the divorce, Seojoon was remarried to the daughter of a big, big pharmaceutical company.” Taehyung clicks his tongue. “Talk about evolutionary mutualism.”
“So that’s the kick starter then. Every man that reminds him of his ex-husband triggers that rage in him again.”
“And not sparing the spouses of the clients is not just for the money. It could be his way of either protecting them from heartbreak or punishing them for falling into the same trap as him,” Jeongguk hovers over the screen to see the profile, currently fixing his tie getting ready for the dinner.
“Either way, he’s harboring a lot of anger and resentment. He’s dangerous.”
___
The ring is wordlessly slid on Hoseok’s ring finger. It was made to Jeongguk’s ring size so the ring wore loose on Hoseok but it didn’t seem to bother the bearer.
It alarms Jeongguk how clouded the assassin’s downcasted eyes while he admires the ring. Hoseok’s hand is curled to a loose fist as he tilts the ring against the light emitting from the chandelier high above them.
In that moment, it was as if he forgot Jeongguk was there and it was just him and the shy glint of the multiple small embedded diamonds on the band.
Oh.
Hoseok is reliving his proposal through him.
The muscles on the other’s neck stutters as he stares at the ring. And if it wasn’t for the dim warm lighting of the restaurant, he could’ve sworn Hoseok was blinking away a barely visible wet layer of tears.
Jeongguk was not much younger than Park Seojoon. And he wonders how much Jeongguk showing up in a suit and tie, much younger than most clients Hoseok would typically get, and playing along with his comfortable banter reminded Hoseok of his ex-husband. Park Seojoon had probably proposed to Hoseok in an extravagant restaurant similar to the one they’re in.
This was off-script from what they had predicted. Or at least not to the extent of what Hoseok is reminiscing right now.
“It looks good on you.”
Call him a fool for being weak in that second Hoseok looks up from that ring and there’s a rotund teardrop perched on the outer edge of those beautiful glittering eyes.
“It doesn’t even fit me,” Hoseok mutters under his breath, his voice losing its bite unlike before where the assassin always makes sure he had the upper-hand in the conversation.
“That doesn’t change anything.”
“You’re right. Whether the ring fits or not, it comes off eventually.”
Across the room, a live ensemble at the low platform stage begins tuning their instruments implying the closing of doors for late incomers.
There are couples long finished with their food who have been waiting for this hour, one of the pair tugging the arm of their lover towards the dance floor. The song of the cello pulls at the feet of others who found themselves gravitated to the music.
Hoseok’s eyes are pinned to the dancing figures. The restaurants have shifted to their late evening ambience where the lights aside from the center where the stage is has been eased into a dusky shadow and waiters traveled to all the occupied tables lighting a candle decorated in a glass vase.
“You weren’t kidding about this place being nice.”
“You act like this first time you’ve been to a restaurant like this.”
Right, rich businessmen don’t get easily impressed by live music and fucking mood lighting.
“No, I just—” Jeongguk trails off tearing through his brain for a cover-up response, “Never noticed the beauty of it until now.”
Hoseok tears his eyes away from the dancers, looking at Jeongguk skeptical. “What made you notice this time?”
“Good company.”
How easy the smile Jeongguk tries to put on is frightening to him. He blames the mere wretched fact of being stuck in a candlelit dinner with one of the most beautiful men he’s ever seen. He doesn’t even mind when Hoseok scoffs at his cliché line.
“Does that line work for everyone you want to sleep with?”
Hoseok smirks knowingly, brushing a few strands of his hair back now casting a slightly different shadow on his face now with the candle at their table burning at its prime vigor. And it spurs Jeongguk on.
“I have little time for these types of dinners… And when I do for work,” Jeongguk scrunches his face up at the thought before continuing, “I’m the youngest in my line of work so you can imagine how drunk off my knockers I’d be to say that to a man who looks and smells like my uncle.”
His heart skips a beat when Hoseok fails to hold back his laughter. Covering his mouth with a graceful wave of his hand to maintain his composure, the other shakes his head in amusement. Jeongguk wonders how his laugh would sound like when he’s not holding it in.
They stare at each other for a little while until he sees the hazed look from Hoseok’s eyes start to thin out from the overcast.
He’ll bring you to a secondary location and that’s where he’ll kill you.
“I think we should head o—“
“Dance with me.”
Hoseok recoils sharply at his statement. “What?”
This wasn’t part of the plan but Jeongguk figures he is allowed some improvisation. He was told to avoid following Hoseok to a secondary location which would be a nightmare for his team to track him at night and in secret without Hoseok noticing. But that doesn’t stop Namjoon from hissing Jeon, what the hell are you doing?! into his ear.
Dodging the bullet of having to go to a secondary location, he knows this team is scrambling for a new plan. The dance floor has about five pairs of couples slow dancing.
Innocent civilians. Moving obstacles. And if him and Hoseok were to dance, moving target.
In the peripheral of his vision, he can see Jimin and Seokjin calmly standing up.
One heading to the direction of the restroom to break up the symmetry of movement if Hoseok was to look their way, and the other lingering by the dance floor pretending to wait for the partner. Most likely waiting for Jimin to come back from the restroom on hold, waiting for the cue from Namjoon watching the surveillance cameras.
He knows he’s on thin ice. Based on what he knows about Hoseok’s past, he is fully aware of how his proposal may look. And truthfully, he is laying all his cards out in surrender right now depending on how Hoseok reacts.
Jeongguk thinks himself a sick bastard for playing out Hoseok's dance on his wedding day.
Hoseok opens his mouth as he’s about to reject his offer.
“Just one dance,” Jeongguk cuts him off before he can respond, keeping his words hesitant but yearnful.
He’s resembling every man Hoseok has ever come across with when they first laid eyes on him. Clouded from enchantment due to his witty syntax and wanting to discover more about him before their time together is up.
The other looks trapped for the first time he’s ever been tonight.
Jeongguk is standing from his seat, extending his hand to Hoseok for the second time but it takes a minute of him looking down at the table for Jeongguk to release the breath he had been holding when Hoseok’s hand slides into his.
“Okay.”
Jeongguk guides him up from his seat with an ecstatic smile he hopes doesn’t come off too genuine from where the cameras pointed right at them. “Okay.”
Not long after, they’re swaying gently on the dark, polished wood floor amongst the others who are lost in their own worlds, trapped in their own bubble with one another. Hoseok has his arms circled around Jeongguk’s neck with his own arms filling the curves of other’s slim waist.
Jeongguk knows he’s not that hopeless of a romantic to let himself ponder on how well their bodies seem to fit together in embrace. They fell into the music naturally moving with each other as if they’ve slow danced many times before this with nights just like this one.
Only one dance was agreed upon but neither of them made a move to pull apart when the music slowly faded into the next song.
“What are you thinking about?” Hoseok asks, reaching over to comb through Jeongguk’s hair behind his ear.
“Not stepping on your foot,” Jeongguk says.
Hoseok ducks his head to laugh. “Don’t I make you nervous? Most men would find it intimidating… dancing with someone like me.”
“Not really.”
“Why?”
“By intimidating, you mean a surprisingly good dancer, then yes I would like to change my answer actually.”
The shimmers resting on Hoseok’s eyelids sparkle in the light when he gets an eye roll. “I’m serious.”
Jeongguk stares back at him. “I’m nervous, a little,” he admits, “What about you?”
He gets a scoff in disbelief. “Me?”
“Yeah. Or do you always have the butterflies under control?”
“Who said I had butterflies around you?” Hoseok peers at him, mirth filling his pupils.
“Oh c’mon, everyone feels nervous before a date. That’s like…” Jeongguk searches his words out of bewilderment, “—the most common feeling in the world.”
“Well if you haven’t gotten the hint already, I’m not most people.”
“You’re not, that’s why I asked you to dance with me.”
“I’m not someone you should dance with, Jeongguk,” Hoseok is playing with curls of hair at the back of his neck now.
Jeongguk shrugs unconvinced, admiring the delicate slope of the other’s nose and the mole besides his lips. “I think everyone deserves to be danced with.”
He gets no response to that.
“How did you get into this job?” Jeongguk asks abruptly.
“How did you know when you wanted your wife dead?” Hoseok steely counters.
Jeongguk purses his lips in clear surrender almost hearing the audible triumph in Hosek’s rebuttal knowing not to push it. “Fair enough.”
“Don’t lose sleep over it, darling,” Hoseok chuckles, “If I tell every handsome man my autobiography, that makes me bad at my job.”
“Well, I like to run on the assumption that you’re great at your job,” Jeongguk playfully assures Hoseok and tilts his head, “And you think I’m handsome?”
“I do.”
“That’s a relief. I was afraid to shoot my shot.”
“Shoot your shot,” Hoseok deadpans, “With a hitmen?”
“In five-second hindsight, that came off way punnier than I thought.”
The other snorts. “You think?”
Jeongguk shrugs with a dumb grin wide on his face.
They eased back to comfortable silence between each other swaying with the music with Hoseok’s head resting on Jeongguk’s right shoulder. Jeongguk has to admit this is the calmest he’s ever been undercover.
If you ignore the fact the person in my arms is highly trained with guns and has the highest body count in the entire hitmen network , Jeongguk chastises himself bitterly. God, why does he always have such bad luck?
He glances down at Hoseok who has his eyes closed, humming softly to himself. But Jeongguk knows better than to trust Hoseok to not be on alert. He scans the floor once his dancing with Hoseok turns him in the line of vision to see the entire span of it.
Seokjin and Jimin are a few lengths away from him paired up in dancing, keeping their eyes on him but if Jimin’s blanched expression and his partner’s complacent smugness is anything to go by, Seokjin undoubtedly slipped in a few bad jokes here and there. Still, Jeongguk has to stick to his character, to make sure Hoseok doesn’t find him suspicious. In other words, play dumb. Which is why the next thing he says is,
“Will tonight be the last time I get to see you?”
One of Hoseok’s hands travels down to lay at his chest but other than that, the assassin remains unmoving from his position. His response is whispered into the collar of his jacket with a sigh. “Don’t ruin the moment, Jeongguk.”
“The moment doesn’t have to be ruined.”
“When does it not?” Hoseok hums soothingly, still with his eyes closed.
“When you finish the job and I secure the business, we could see more of each other. I can make you happy, Hoseok,” Jeongguk lowers his head to bury his nose into the soft tufts of Hoseok’s hair, purposefully blocking Hoseok’s view from the partnered agents inching closer to them in controlled paced dancing motions.
Hoseok buries his face deeper into Jeongguk’s neck as if to shake his head.
“What do you know about making me happy?”
“Tell me then.”
The raven-haired man lifts his head and Jeongguk doesn’t miss the way Hoseok catches his breath realizing how close they’ve gotten now. Their noses are almost touching, all they have to do is lean in. His eyes delicate rimming with pity, and almost the smallest sliver of apology.
Almost.
“For you to kiss me right here and then we never see each other again,” Hoseok simply says.
A lump gets caught in Jeongguk’s throat.
Their lips met unguarded and so achingly soft that it caught Jeongguk off his stance. Hoseok’s sweet, tart perfume is suffocating from the absence of distance but Jeongguk is no prideful liar to say Hoseok tastes sweeter than how he smells. It was only between the two of them who knew that Hoseok was the one who pressed their foreheads together but Jeongguk who chased Hoseok’s lips first.
Jeongguk gets lost in the feeling when he feels Hoseok melt against him. His arms lose their tension completely disarmed by the intoxication of the other, his arms draped at his waist.
The kiss deepens and Jeongguk fights against the spell to close his eyes and only live with the feeling of Hoseok in his arms, on his lips.
He blinks but that’s all Hoseok needed.
The hand resting on his chest snaked down to his gun holster hidden at the side of his jacket and before Jeongguk could even react, Hoseok has already swiftly twisted his arm back, bringing his knees to hit the floor in pain from a precise kick at his legs.
And the cock of the gun echoed in the room, trigger ready, aiming right at Jeongguk’s head.
“You take me for an amateur, Agent Jeon?” Hoseok spats above him pressing the muzzle harder against Jeongguk’s temple knowing the agent wouldn’t risk trying anything. Ignoring the choruses of panicked screams from patrons in the restaurant realizing the terrifying sight before them.
“Hoseok—”
A groan rips out of him when he faces the force of the gun across the face.
Jeongguk clenches his jaw, racking his head over what he did to blow his cover. “How’d you know?”
Hoseok looks at him, visibly annoyed that he hadn’t figured it out yet. “Your ring. Four years, was it?”
Jeongguk curses himself under his breath.
The ring they bought for his cover was a brand new ring straight out of the jewelry store.
Jeongguk looks to his peripheral vision, surveilling his surroundings. Jimin and Seokjin already have their gun out pointed at Hoseok.
“Put the gun down,” Jimin snaps, his eyes not leaving his target for one second. They were trained to keep the voices leveled in situations like this but no one can mistake the deadliness in Jimin’s eyes.
“And why should I?”
“I’ll shoot,” Jimin grits out from his teeth.
“You shoot and everyone in this restaurant dies,” Hoseok calmly seethes, “Your bullet can kill me but can it shoot down gaseous chemicals?”
Jimin’s face pales.
The Chemist.
Seokjin seemed to have received orders from Namjoon and started to step away slowly from the circle of fire with his gun still aimed at Hoseok.
Hoseok singsongs a goodbye to him, watching him scramble hastily away. If both his hands weren’t occupied on him, Jeongguk could see Hoseok sending Seokjin off to scramble with a mocking wave of fingers.
“It’s too late for your team to fix this. My partner is fantastic at his job,” Hoseok gushes with his tone with an ounce of doubt.
“The second he presses the button, none of us make it out alive. You get one minute to make your choice.”
Jeongguk and Jimin can hear Namjoon barking out orders regarding the blueprint of the restaurant’s water lines. Seokjin, now away from the situation, is relaying on-site information to Namjoon.
“It’ll take at least five hours to drain all the water from the building, Joon. We don’t have that kind of time.”
“Can you locate The Chemist there?”
“I have people checking. Nothing yet but there’s a big chance The Chemist has already left the scene and is communicating with Ivory through audio .”
A stagnant pause.
Joon’s voice cuts through the silence. “Perimeters, pull back immediately. I repeat, pull back. All agents do not engage and stand down.”
Hoseok reads the deflation of Jimin’s shoulders as an agreement. “Smart choice. If I see one cop on my way out, he’ll know and everyone dies,” Hoseok warns, shrugging at his own redundancy, “Obviously.”
Jimin sneers, slowly lowering his gun, “You can go now.”
That elicits a beaming smile from Hoseok. “Perfect.”
Hoseok sends a firm kick at Jeongguk’s sides, emitting a grunt from the male. “Get up, handsome. You’re escorting me out.”
If looks can kill, it would’ve saved Jeongguk and his team a lot of trouble from the way Jimin is burning hatred into Hoseok’s skull.
Jeongguk slowly stands up and the hold on him is expertly rearranged by the assassin making Jeongguk curses from the pain, to minimize any possible movements he might try, still with the gun held indefinitely aimed at his head.
They both start walking backwards now, Hoseok using Jeongguk as a shield and his sharp eyes accounting for any potential threats.
It wasn’t until Hoseok’s back hit the front door, gesturing for him to open it and they exit out of the building that he speaks up.
Hoseok lets out a laugh of relief. “I have to admit you almost got me there, Agent.”
Jeongguk breathes deeply, wondering where Hoseok will go with this.
“What, we're not on first-name basis anymore?”
He sees a sleek, black car with no license plate drive up to the front, flashing a blue light twice from inside. Probably a signal to Hoseok to ensure the coast is clear.
Hoseok ignores his question, roughly pushing him forward towards the car not forgetting to canvas the area.
As they get closer, the person at the driver’s seat becomes clearer. A pair of sharp, feline eyes stare back at him unwavering, daring him to try anything. The rest of his face is covered with a black mask. And Jeongguk already knows who this is. The only description on his file about his appearance is his piercing eyes. The only thing an agent investigating has ever got to see.
“I have something to confess, Jeongguk,” Hoseok begins, turning them around and shifting the gun so now he’s the one who has his back against the car and Jeongguk’s back is facing the restaurant.
Hoseok’s expression is elated now, his breath forming smoke in the air as he speaks. Jeongguk can feel his heartbeat pounding from the thrill of all that just happened now that they’re pressed him against each other. “I think seeing you again will make me happy.”
If there were any casual passerby roaming the streets this late at night, it would’ve looked like a scene out of a movie. Two silhouettes standing against the moonlight in close, comfortable proximity, hands wandering and finding purchase on each other.
Jeongguk searches the possibilities for any way to stop Hoseok from escaping. He couldn’t.
“And because you gave me this ring, I’ll leave you a souvenir too.”
“What souv—"
A sharp burning sensation ignites at his side and Jeongguk cries out in pain before getting shoved, falling backwards on the hard cement.
Hoseok tosses the small hand-held dagger to the side, already situating himself in the car. “Sorry, had to make sure you wouldn’t stop me from getting in,” he says, clearly not caring whether or not the other accepts his apology.
“Left my bag inside. When you’re all patched up, make sure that gets to you, okay?”
With that, the door slams shut and the tires screech.
And he’s gone.