Archive of Our Own

There had always been talk of who’d been the best, it seemed to be the only topic that came to anyone’s mind when they stepped foot in the main lounge of Soonyoung’s job, but he enjoyed where it always ended, and couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered and listen. It wasn’t until the heavy metal doors of the elevator opened that he set his phone down and paid attention to what was happening. Soonyoung stood from the chair he’d been lightly swaying in and leaned against a counter like a teenage girl that hadn’t realized she was making a faux pas, but felt no shame as others looked on enviously. 

Rushing from a closed-door came S.Coups, referred to casually as Seungcheol. Though there had been no established system of rank within their place of work he seemed to hold at least the title of manager and was tasked to assign missions to everyone. He stopped upon the young man eagerly and fanatically. “Woozi, I hope you’ve had your coffee because I’ll have to assign you something before you’ve even sat down.” 

The young man referred to as Woozi said nothing as he took the small piece of paper that Seungcheol had produced. He read it a moment, considered it another, and walked towards his own office to set down his coat. Soonyoung realized with sudden jubilance that the young man would have to walk past him to exit, and he pressed his pink lips into a thin line out of excitement. 
“Hey, babe,” he said sweetly when the young man slowed a moment to regard the paper again. 

“Call me that again and I’ll shoot you,” he replied quickly.

 
“Have fun on your mission.” 

“I won’t,” the young man said, walking away.

“If you get him in one you have to take me out for dinner!” he called after. 

The young man slammed the door behind himself. Halfway down the hall Soonyoung could see his best friend, Jeon Wonwoo, a man the same age as he with the demeanor of a queen’s guard, and met his disapproving look with an almost strained smile. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of bothering him? Aren’t you ever scared?”

“I’m scared of plenty things,” he says, somewhat proudly. “But him? Why would I be scared of him? Why, he’d never hurt a fly—unless it deserved it.”

Wonwoo studied him curiously, and realizing the entirety of his earnestness shook his head. “Your insistent buzzing makes for a hard case.” 

Soonyoung laughed lightly. “And he swats me away, of course, but he’d never hurt me. And he’s rather handsome,” he adds haphazardly. 

“And dangerous.” 

“Aren’t we all?” 

“Not as much as him.” 

Soonyoung fell impatient with the argument, and his cheeks puffed. “I’ve said—”

“Alright, alright. I give.” Wonwoo sits where Soonyoung had been previously and opens a book of poems. “But I’ll be watching you closely.”

“Oh, big brother ‘Woo,” Soonyoung cries. “Can’t you trust my life choices just this once!” 

Wonwoo closes the book around his finger and scrutinizes Soonyoung for a moment. “I gave up on that when you used the company card to buy a decorative gun.” 

“It was shaped like a tiger! The bullet came from its mouth!” Soonyoung stops a moment to remember it, proudly but with a reproachful disappointment, then continues: “Imagine my target running down a hall, he checks his watch, and when he looks up there’s a tiger right to his head. What a favor I’d’ve been doing those people! Such a cool thing to see before they die.” 
“Soonyoung, it exploded in your hand when you used it during target practice.” 

“I’ll never forgive that faulty magazine it came with. . . but guess who attended my injuries,” he exclaims.

“Well—” 

“Woozi! Oh, it’s the most romantic thing every time I think of it,” he lulled his head to the side dreamily and rested it in his palm. “He called me the biggest idiot in the world and massaged my hands. You’ll never believe what happened next!”

“I know, he—”

Soonyoung squealed with absurd delight. “He gave me one of his guns! It has his name engraved on the grip.” 

Wonwoo leaned further into his chair and opened the book once again. “God can only imagine what you’ve done with it.”

Soonyoung pressed his red face for a moment out of embarrassment. “Oh, shut up!” 

Seungcheol came up to them suddenly, and as he greeted them Soonyoung put a cool attitude about himself. “S-coups.” 

“Hoshi, Wonwoo, I’ve got a quick little mission for you to take care of. Would you mind walking with me to my office?” 

Wonwoo searched his pocket for a moment and pulled out a loose piece of paper that he used as a bookmark. When he stood, Seunghcheol began to walk. They followed a few steps behind, and Wonwoo grinned as he asked quietly: “Why do you act so weird around him?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You know just what I mean.” 

“He’s got rank in some way, it just isn’t stated. I want him to—have a good image of me.”

Wonwoo held his mouth as he laughed. “So it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s rumored to be Woozi’s cousin?”

 
“Of course not!” Soonyoung whispered incredulously. “I never even knew such a thing.” 

“Hm!” Wonwoo exclaimed with a laugh.

As they walked into the room Soonyoung noticed how disorganized the desk had been, and they stood for a silent moment as Seungcheol thumbed through a pile of papers. He plucked out the one he must have been looking for and set the rest back where they had been. He looked more hard-boiled than normal and more exhausted, but Soonyoung was almost jealous of the way his doe-eyes still shone amiably when he looked at them. 

“It isn’t a hit, you see, it’s just a bit of—threatening.” He held the paper out to Wonwoo and waited for them to read it. “Rare case of someone calling a hit on corrupt policemen figured I’d send out my best good cop-bad cop duo.” 

Soonyoung smiled painfully hard. “Of course, we’ll take care of it! Yin and Yang, us. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Soonyoung.” 

The two walked clumsily out the room as Soonyoung dragged Wonwoo in his excitement, and when the door shut he bounced childishly. “He called me Soonyoung!” 

It was five in the evening when they stopped their car and Wonwoo turned on his police radio. They sat for a moment as he tuned it, and Soonyoung wrote out a few addresses as they listened to men respond back and forth to calls. A woman called the names of two officers that they’d been looking for and Soonyoung rejoiced when it turned out they were only a few blocks away. He handed Wonwoo the piece of paper and walked into the nearest apartment building as his partner drove the car around the corner.

Wonwoo walked into the door Soonyoung had picked the lock of ten minutes later. “How are we doing this? Noise complaint?” 

“You could report abuse and then,” Soonyoung punched his left palm as he grinned. “Turns out they’re the ones being abused.” 

Wonwoo searches Soonyoung’s bag for a disposable phone and dials the police. “You’re a child.” He holds the phone up to his ear.  “Hello… Yes, I’d like to report a noise complaint… Yes, that’s where I am currently… Apartment 1-7… Thank you.” 

Soonyoung frowned petulantly when Wonwoo handed him the phone. 

“They’re probably lazy, a noise complaint would be the easiest thing to answer if they’re in the area.” 

Soonyoung tucked the phone into his pocket and turned toward the kitchen. “You think this place has got any coffee?”

“They’ll be here in 10 minutes, you haven’t got any time to make it.”

Soonyoung searched the cupboards a minute and found a small box of instant coffee packets. He put a cup of water in the microwave and they sat together on the couch as they waited for the men to arrive. Five minutes later the sound of their knock and the following shout of “Police,” was nearly drowned out by the beeps of the microwave but Wonwoo went to open the door and Soonyoung walked cooly to mix his packets as the men were invited in.

“What seems to be the problem?” one with large, beady brown eyes and small sharp lips shaped like a v said this. The other was writing in a notepad. 

Wonwoo politely gestured them inside, and without thought, they followed. Soonyoung came from the kitchen still mixing, and offered them a coffee as well. The other that had been writing, a man much shorter with a very attractive nose and droopy eyes nodded his head. It would not have been proper to sit, and in a way, it would have taken their power, so when Wonwoo closed the door and Soonyoung set his coffee on the table they decided to get straight to it.

“The problem, you see—” Soonyoung handed the coffee to the one with large eyes so he could pass it to the other, but as they were exchanging he held the man’s gun, took his own from where it had been tucked into the back of his pants and held it into his side. “—is between us.” 

The man that had been writing dropped the plastic cup of coffee and began to fumble with his utility belt, but Wonwoo had a gun pointed to him before he could remove his taser from where it was strapped and he held his hands above his head in surrender. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” came from the small, sharp mouth of the first. It held no fear, and his beady eyes slowly became interested and eager. 

Soonyoung took the gun from its holster, put it where his gun had been previously, and walked toward his own coffee with the gun still to the man. “We got, let’s say, an anonymous tip. Two men by your names have been playing for the wrong team, and we're here now to straighten them out.” 

Wonwoo leaned against the door and crossed one leg over the other. “So what we’d like is to tell you that we’ll be watching you. You can make promises to protect one gang from another, and look the other way when you pass by a drug deal but do something unjust to a helpless again and—well.” 

Soonyoung held the gun with both hands, closed one eye as if precisely aiming, and pointed it at their heads. He made the sound of an explosion with his mouth and smiled without amusement as he shrugged. “We’ve got eyes around here, so be on your best behavior.” 

The shorter one with droopy eyes began to tremble, and Soonyoung walked toward him and took the taser he’d been fumbling with earlier. “You seemed to have lost this on your way over, understood?”

His face turned a sickly sort of pale as he nodded and Soonyoung replaced it with the gun of his partner. “Now go start up the car and report that you’ve solved the problem.” 

His fear had not shown in his walk as he left, and Soonyoung put the taser in his bag before sitting on the couch. The much more confident man had begun to switch his weight from one foot to the other, but not as someone who’s nervous does, rather like someone who was impatient. “And as for me?” 

“Well we should just kill you…” Wonwoo said thoughtfully, “but that wasn’t in our orders so I guess we’ll just do this.” He went to Soonyoung’s bag and took out his personal phone, after a few taps he held it to his ear.

“Hey, Eight… I’m fine, how are you?... That’s wonderful… Yes, just something work-related I wanted to ask you about… Just a simple favor, really… There’s an officer Seo that I have here with me that’s been acting rather terribly, would you spread word?... Thanks so much… Yes, we’re still on for lunch next week… Ok, I’ve got to go…” 

The man swallowed visibly, and he lowered his raised hands in defeat. As he walked towards the opened door Soonyoung handed him another cup of coffee and told him to give it to his partner before he closed it. 

“Why’d you take his taser?” Wonwoo asked, sitting on the couch. 

Soonyoung smiled. “Just for fun.” 

When they walked from the elevator later they were half surprised to see everyone sat in the common area as if a meeting was taking place, and Soonyoung searched eagerly for a familiar face. He gasped happily when he saw the young man sitting on a bench against the wall and crossed the room to sit next to him. His face was handsome with shapes and his thin lips tightened when Soonyoung sat just next to him so that their knees nearly touched. 

“Afternoon,” Soonyoung said casually.

“Where have you been?” he demanded quietly, but with no embarrassment. 

Soonyoung laughed prematurely and shrugged one shoulder slightly as he said: “Oh, you know...”

He looks about the room for a moment, plays nervously with one hand, and says to Soonyoung slowly: “There’s a sort of goose-chase mission about to be assigned to everyone, would you like to—partner up for it?”

Soonyoung’s mouth falls open in disbelief for a moment but when they turn back to each other his face is placid and his voice fails to be just playful with glee. “Well—” he says, feigning shock, “Buy a man dinner first, won’t you?” 

He crosses one leg over the other nervously. “Forget I asked.”

 
Soonyoung puts his hand on the young man’s arm as he laughs, though the action is hesitant and shy. “No, I’m sorry. Al-right.” 

“My office, first thing tomorrow.” 

“I’ll bring bagels.” Then upon remembering something, Soonyoung says: “Wait, what will Wonwoo do?” 

“Don’t tell him—that we’re partnering up.” 

“Jihoon,” he pouts, “Why not?”

Jihoon thinks for a moment. “Tell him you're working with someone else,” he says instead of answering.

“He’ll ask who.” 

“Tell him Seungcheol assigned us to be partners.”

“He’ll hardly believe that,” Soonyoung exclaims.

Jihoon sighs. “Fine, tell him.” 

They listened narrowly to the tall, hard-looking man speaking in the front, but mostly their minds were somewhere else. A faint glow had settled over Soonyoung at the wonderful successes of the day, and he thought of his eternal affection for Jihoon, as well as the subtle attention he received in return. Jihoon had been trembling slightly, this was quite a large jump for him, as he had always decided to be—as, he thought, it was appallingly put—”married to his work.” He hoped most that no one noticed the thin layer of sweat that had come upon his face and worried that it shined faintly in the dim lighting.

The following day began in somewhat of a tide. Soonyoung had arrived coolly a few minutes late and was surprised to see five other people standing in the room along with Jihoon. They all looked vaguely similar, though their noses had varying shapes, and one man had a forehead sloped in an unconventionally handsome manner. They regarded him with relief, but he retreated to Jihoon’s side.
“Now that you’ve arrived we’re going to give you the details on the mission,” one said. He seemed to be the assigned leader, and when he spoke his chest puffed authoritatively. They relocated quickly to a larger, conference-like room and as they sat down Soonyoung cheerily expressed that he bought just enough bagels for everyone. They all seemed to look at the leader for approval, and as he grabbed one they followed, though they only held it politely before leaving it abandoned on the table.

“You’ll be the first two to know about this since Woozi is usually one of the quickest to work out these things.” Jihoon glanced around the room without interest, and then intently took a bite. “We haven’t got very much information about the man you’re after but we’ve got enough that you’ll be able to find him.” 

Following this he explained the building in which he was last seen, the one in which he was rumored to inhabit next, and the capacity of staff he had. At the discussion of this last fact, Soonyoung raised his hand stoutly, though no one acknowledged it. Eventually Jihoon interfered, somewhat annoyed. 

“Aren’t you going to allow him to speak?” 

Three of the men cowered into themselves, the rest looked nervously to the only one that spoke. He blushed faintly as he pointed to Soonyoung.  

“You’ve told us about the staff and that they each have a gun but do they all have background with one? Did you receive this from someone on the inside or is it somewhat of a guess?” 

The ones that didn’t speak all turned sharp eyes at the implied doubt of the question; the one with the sloped forehead quietly scoffed. After much consideration, he responded: “It was what we could get from a lower level that we’d caught. He didn’t have much skill with a gun, but when one knows faintly the function they can figure out the rest.” 

“And remind me again the name of the man we’re looking for. I’m sorry, I forgot.” 

“Min Jinam,” Jihoon replied first. There settled an awkward silence for a moment, then he stood, bowed slightly to them all, and walked from the room. Soonyoung followed quickly behind, and as they walked toward Jihoon’s own office he looked around the room abstractly. “What’d you tell Wonwoo?” 

Soonyoung was momentarily taken aback. “Oh, he never asked.”

“Never asked?” 

“He was busy with an errand after the meeting and only texted to ask if I’d be busy the next few days afterward.” 

“And you said?”

“Why, I replied with a little bunny that winks.” 

Two days later, and after many arguments on whether they’d sneak in with elaborate costumes, zipline into the building from one just across the street, or barge in with more guns than they could carry—all of which came from Soonyoung—they arrived at the building in what they normally wear, around midnight, and climbed the fire escape. Jihoon had some outside connection that he explained looped all the footage of the cameras, making it easy for them to intrude. 

Once inside they noticed the floor to be empty, and Soonyoung walked cautiously about while Jihoon located the elevator. As Soonyoung eventually followed, after looking meaninglessly through an expensive desk, he found Jihoon holding a man much larger than him in a tight choke hold. He seemed not to mind this inconvenience and laid his unconscious body in another empty room before deciding which floor they should arrive on.

“He’d be at the top floor, don’t you think?” Soonyoung asked innocently. 

Of the 15 floors available he pressed the number for 10. 

“Do you think this is Donkey Kong? Starting at the top floor would be dangerous. If he is there we’ll just get someone to take us.”

“Like a bellhop? You just knocked that man out!” 

“He didn’t seem very skilled, I’ll assume the rest are like that and all we have to do is disarm them. Unless they’re the kind that’d rather die than betray what’s happening. I suppose a few casualties are to be expected.” 

The bell dings and the door opens. It was quiet where they stepped out and they continued down the hall together clearing each room but standing unconsciously very close. The dim yellow lights had browned the walls and the dry, lifeless air made the floors squeak under too much pressure. They walked consciously further apart and noticing one light near the end of the hall in a larger office Jihoon motioned him to stay back while he cleared the room. Once he was given a small wave they entered it together, but moving too eagerly Soonyoung made a rather large squeak that was carried through the stale, peeling walls like a breeze. He heard some shouting, and when one man came out loosely holding his weapon Jihoon shot him clean through the hand, then once more through the leg, and kicking the dropped gun across the room he quickly ran to push Soonyoung behind a cluster of abandoned tables that were set up so they made a poorly crafted box. He yelped, but it was not heard over the cries of the man who had fallen to the floor from the pain of a bullet in his leg. 

“Stay there!” he said lowly and the most serious Soonyoung had ever seen. 

Out came two more men who held even larger guns than before, but this seemed not to scare Jihoon. He shot another in the leg and the last through the head, though Soonyoung at this point had decided to hide to the point he could not see. The first had gone quiet, but Jihoon was now inquiring all he could from the one least injured. Soonyoung found this an okay time to slowly reveal himself, and looking to make sure the two were actually quite still he peered his head around to see that the one that had been shot twice made it over to the larger gun of his deceased partner and was aiming it right at Jihoon’s back. Finding that his body moved as if not his own he lunged forward, embracing Jihoon. This would have been spectacular and romantic had the bullet not gone clean through his right shoulder causing the gray of his shirt to turn a dark, dark red. If he yelped or groaned he would not know, for now he was fading from consciousness to the sound of bullets. 

An amount of time later in which he is not aware, he awoke to Jihoon softly patting his face. 

“..Soonyoung..!”

This was all he could make out upon his first nod at alertness. After a short wink, he opened his eyes to see that he was being lifted to a stand and made an effort to do so. 

“Good God! Are you insane?” 

“Jihoon..?” he asked dumbly. He turned his head back almost in slow motion. 

“It’s me!” At this response, his head was stopped and then guided to rest against a very comfortable shoulder. “Walk with me.” 

Two arms attached themselves to his and together they walked in the low light of the silent hall. 

“What’s going on?” he inquired, faintly disappointed. He knew that something great was happening but he was unfortunately too injured to appreciate it. 

“Soonyoung, they shot you—quite good.” His voice was panicked and concerned and nearly trembling. “You have veins here vital for blood flow and imagine if it’d been any nearer to the right⸺” 

“But it wasn't,” he interrupted. He was trying to be collected enough for the both of them despite being the one injured. “How long until backup arrives?” 

“It should be just 10 minutes, but you have to stay awake as long as you can.” He held him closer and whispered into his ear: “Left, right, left—Just like that—and here we’ll do a little turn.” 

A jolt of pain ran through his arm and he felt himself groan internally. “You can’t go around training with guns and suddenly think you’re immune to them—open your eyes a little wider.” 
He felt himself nodding off again. “Tell me of a time you were shot.” 

“Oh plenty,” he began. “But each time I had on a full vest… still hurt like hell.” He shook him once more and they spun to walk in the opposite direction. “Once I was shot in the arm and the bullet was stuck in there so that the doctors left a nasty scar.” 

He put his arm out to prove it. There was an almost star-like lesion on his forearm. Soonyoung reached over weakly to touch it, but his arm failed when attempting to hold its own weight and he groaned. 

“Quit that…” Jihoon chided. “They’ll be here in a few minutes—any moment.” 

But a few minutes was too long. Soonyoung asked to be set against the wall and after much useless argument he was. Shortly again he began feeling tired. 
“Soonyoung—please—” 

He made a large effort to open his eyes and inquired: “Do you ever say anything to your marks?”

 
Jihoon was taken aback, but considered for a long moment. “Not usually.”

“Well, will you this time?” 

This time—? We’ve got to get you to th⸺”

Soonyoung interrupted him. “Of course, you have to finish without me. Woozi can’t have an imperfect record because some pill slowed him up.”
“No—of course—you’ve helped me.” 

He felt, even in his near-dead state, a glow come about him. “Well, then don’t let my help go to waste.” 

This was the last thing he had the effort to say at that moment and quite suddenly two men in white were heading toward them. He heard faintly that they said something but he found nothing more significant in that moment than what Jihoon said to him softly as he was rolled gently onto a stretcher. 
“I’ll say something this time… I’ll say something…” he repeated lowly. 

Much later—he assumed—Soonyoung awoke. He was staring up at a metal ceiling and felt a vague pain in his arm. After much concentration he noticed the sound of a siren, then the constant beep of a machine. He turned his head to the side with much energy and noticed first very large arms attached to very broad shoulders, then looking up, a strong chin and a soft mouth and—those doe eyes. They were currently bothered and melancholy. 

“Seungcheol?” he asked meekly, noticing his throat was dry. 

Seungcheol gasped softly, but instead of saying anything he produced a phone, and thumbing it until it rang, he handed it to Soonyoung. 
He put the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?” 

There was a large sigh, and then they exclaimed: “Soonyoung!” 

“Oh, hello, Wonwoo.”

“Soonyoung, have they got you in the ambulance?” 

“Why—how’d you even know I was hurt?” 

“I’ve got ears and eyes everywhere and I put them very specifically on you,” he said cryptically. 

“I’m going to take that as a sweet sentiment.” 

“How bad does it hurt?”

He looked down at the bandage around his chest and noticed that the blood had managed to seep through. “Oh, terribly! But you’ll never guess as to who’s holding my hand right now.” He had noticed after looking away from the blood that Seungcheol was holding his hand gently as if to keep it from moving. “Go on, guess!”

“Soonyoung⸺”

“You thought it would be Woozi, right? Well, you’d be quite surprised to know that it’s actually Seungcheol.” 

He holds the phone up to Seungchoel’s mouth. “Say hello!” 

“Hello…” he responds, rather surprised. 

Soonyoung brings it quickly back to his ear. “Did you hear him? He’s quite the sweetheart.”

“Soonyoung…” Wonwoo says almost reluctantly. “Where’s Woozi?” 

“Oh, he went on without me to finish. I must tell you about what happened earlier.” He moved his feet as best he could with elation and added, in poor taste: “I could just faint thinking about it—really!” 

“Without you?” was all he received in response.

Seungcheol shook their connected hands gently. “He finished and will meet us at the hospital as soon as he can.” 

“So quickly?” both he and Wonwoo inquired at the same time. 

Soonyoung added: “Did someone get the mark before him?”

Seungcheol hung his head and said gravely: “No…”

After a long series of tests and questions and prodding and poking, Soonyoung was left alone with a small box of grape juice and a remote. He sighed deeper into his pillow and turned his head to look out the window. He just now noticed that the sun had been at its peak and was giving the stiff, white room a yellow-ish glow. He fell asleep to this. 

When he awoke again it was pitch black and the only source of light was from the heart monitor and the light that bled through the small window of the door to the hall. He was surprised at how quiet it had been as when he imagined a hospital he figured there was hardly a moment's calm. He wondered for a moment exactly where he was, but the effort to find this information left his mind completely when he noticed—rather felt—an envelope sat next to the remote. He turned on the bedside lamp and examined it. It was void of any identification on the outside, and when he opened it the signature only read “J.H.” He read its contents. 

“Have someone ring me when you’re awake. I didn’t want to disturb you earlier while you slept. 010- …”

Soonyoung’s heart dropped, then jumped into his throat. He was sure that this must have been Jihoon; though he was quite unsure of what to make of it—how even to respond. It seemed obvious that he should call, but what on Earth would they speak of? “I’m sorry for causing such a shock” was all that ran through his head. He decided that was the end of it, and putting the envelope under his pillow, lied down deliberately so he might fall back asleep.

He was awoken later by a nurse, and her kind smile made Soonyoung forget a little about his current turmoil. She handed him a small breakfast of rice and soup and a glass of water, then left the pill on the table after instructing him to take it once he’d finished. Just before she could leave he asked if he was able to get up and walk around outside, and at her apologetic answer of disapproval she wondered what he might want. 

“Would it at all be possible to…” he hesitated greatly. “to have a phone brought to me?” 

She nodded, and moments later there was a wireless phone in his hands. He reached under his pillow and considered for a long time on whether or not to type in the numbers. Deciding to just go for it without much thought, he was interrupted after pressing the first two. 

“Mr. Kwon? You have a visitor.” 

In came those brooding eyes and careless, sturdy shoulders that he fought thoughts of for the majority of his morning. 

“Soonyoung—how are you?” He noticed the phone and the note, but sitting in a chair decided to say nothing. 

Soonyoung blushed. “Why—Just fine—really.” 

“It doesn’t hurt at all? I heard from the nurse it went straight through but grazed bone.” 

“Sure—” he said, barely aware of his own condition. “I’m quite strong though.”

This seemed to satisfy any further questions, and sitting in a thick silence they stared shyly into each other's eyes. It was as though both had a thousand things to say and simultaneously nothing at all. The rising sun came in through the window and shined bright to fill the place of their words, and only when this nurse or that doctor came through did it dim discreetly as if it knew that they were two hopeless young hearts afraid to look love in the face, let alone anyone else's. Around noon the nurse leaned in the door to announce another visitor making their way up, and after learning it would be Wonwoo, Jihoon made for a quick getaway that consisted of a fleeting touch, a soft goodbye, and a flurry of nervous steps. Unfortunately for him, there was only one way to enter and he happened to be going through the same moment as the object of his panic.

“So?” was all that Wonwoo said. 

“Yes?” Jihoon began defensively. 

“What are you doing here?” 

He was offended by this, but felt he was not in a place to let that be known.“⸺He took the bullet for me. I figured it would be part of my responsibility to—”

“Don’t pull that indebted savior act on me.” he interrupted sternly. 

“Then I’m not sure what exactly you want.” 

“Why did you partner with him? I’m sure you’re very aware that he is my partner, and going alone was more than certainly an option. I took you for more of an ‘everyone would drag me down’ kind of guy.” 

Jihoon matched his glare. Their mouths were currently in a battle to see which could frown the widest, and having little ill will Jihoon was losing. 

“Well, it’d seem you don’t know what kind of person I am.”

Wonwoo sighed. “Just answer my question.” 

“Then you’ll leave me be?” he demanded. 

Wonwoo nodded. 

“I figured I could watch after him.” 

Wonwoo scoffed, but looking over at the clock, continued. “Elaborate.” 

“But you said—”

“Go on.” 

He stayed quiet for a long moment, embarrassed already from what he had stated before, but deciding this might not absolve some of the hate between them decided to oblige. “You know how he is… I figured if anyone could protect him best it’d be—the best,” the words were sour in his mouth. “But I managed to do the opposite—or, he did?—It turned into a competition of selflessness and he won.” 

Wonwoo held both his shoulders and sighed. “This doesn’t prove to me that you’re a good man, but you shouldn’t beat yourself up over it. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself, and will certainly wring any attention that he can.” 

This did not seem to discourage the glow in his eye. They each walked away from that with nothing more than the confirmation that they seeked somewhat desperately in their subconscious. That was how Jihoon left. 

Wonwoo entered in the same way a school dean might enter a class where something terrible has happened. He did not sit, and the only thing he said was: “Soonyoung…” 

“Oh, I’m just fine, thank you.”

“What happened?” he asked, completely serious. 

“I just jumped toward, as I’m brash enough to do, and they were quite jealous that they decided to harm me.” This did not please Wonwoo in the least, and crossing his arms Soonyoung supplied helplessly: “What does it look like Wonwoo? I’ve been shot!” 

“Yes, but—why?” 

Soonyoung frowned deeply. “It seems like you want a very specific answer.” 

It was then that he sat, the wind of a “Yes” followed it. 

“Well I’m not quite ready to give you that one; so for now you’ll have to accept ‘to protect him.’”

They sat staring at each other with vaguely angry expressions, but finding it nothing more than childish, Wonwoo sighed. Soonyoung took this as a win. 

“So did they say how he got the mark?”

 Wonwoo was confused. “He didn’t tell you?” 

“We spoke no more than two sentences each.” 

“From what I was told it was a very wild time after you left, and not many were left uninjured.”

“Had he—said anything?” 

After clarification, Wonwoo thought for a long moment. 

“I heard there may have been the muttering of some heavy rain. . . I wasn’t sure though because I hadn’t heard of any rain.” 

Soonyoung was very moved by this, but it was replaced shortly with worry and a little fear. He kept this to himself, and promising to behave, as a child would, Wonwoo left. 

After quite a few days of quiet evenings with large bouquets of flowers and louder ones with the vaguely mystifying atmosphere of sharing what details he could to family, it became largely boring to be left alone in his room. There had been the occasional thought of gratitude for the silence during his healing process, but one transient evening his mind was temporarily changed. He had been expecting no visitors, and finding it best to doze in the displeasing hum of the fluorescent light he was gently awoken by the door opening. He had not bothered to open his eyes, as most of the time it would be a doctor or nurse there to point at him and repeat the same few things that the person just before him had said. When a small throat clearing was made he peeked one eye open. 

“Hello,” Jihoon began, but left the invitation for conversation held out entirely to Soonyoung. 

He took the opportunity gladly, and as he spoke he maintained a steady amazement at the situation. It was as though all the previous defenses he had built to brush Soonyoung away had been entirely forgotten. Like seeing him injured and held up in this hospital with a hard plaster cast about his arm and shoulder was the absolvent of any bottled acceptance. Previously he would not have even rewarded the simple jokes and childish jives with a larger reaction. Now each response was given full, serious attention; even the smallest sigh was provided a glance. He was extremely happy about this evening; even when the nurse came by with his personal items that had been a little delayed in processing she was given hardly a moment's notice. A cool hour before visitors were asked to leave Jihoon looked over casually to the clock and made half excuses for his departure, but all of them were lost to the strong fog of emotion that surrounded them and drew them together. Finally, when he stood there was a dispassionate, mutual farewell. Both of their eyes looked at each other dryly and said “Good-by” but as he stood their fingers grazed and lingered and pulling them away quite deliberately he left. 

That night in his dream Soonyoung was being pursued constantly but a large figure. It was not the appearance of the figure that frightened him, but rather the air about it. For some odd reason it seemed as though this chase was more the avoidance of some large conspiracy rather than the normal threat of inevitable harm. They went down the long, silent hall and entered the office of a week ago and behind the desk he thought he saw the strangest thing, and upon closer inspection he was right—it was was himself, but just as he walked closer to inspect why he was so lifeless the looming figure caught up to him. 

Startling intensely and feeling the most shooken up he had in quite some time he felt at his forehead and discovered that he had broken into a cold sweat. Finding it difficult to seek comfort in a room so cold and impersonal to himself he pulled the phone from his bag and thumbed through it. After a moment’s hesitation the bright screen read “J.H” and was answered after two rings. 

“Hello?” they picked up, a little breathless. 

“Hello,” was the only thing he could muster in response. There was a long pause as neither was entirely sure what was happening. 

“Is something the matter?” 

“Not—particularly.” he lied. 

“Hm.” 

Again a long pause. 

“What are you doing up so late? Work?” 

“I just came from the gym.” 

“At two in the morning?” 

“I prefect little to no people.” And to clarify: “I make odd weird faces.” 

Soonyoung laughed. This was what he had called for, and neither knew but vaguely understood in the moment after. “I had a nightmare.” 

Jihoon paused greatly and though awkward, his words were entirely sincere. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No,” Soonyoung responded quickly. 

“Well, would you like me to hang up so you can call Wonwoo?” 

“No,” he said just as quick. 

This seemed the answer to a general question, as after this Soonyoung said very little and Jihoon filled the empty air with discussion of quite anything he found sufficient; Others who he observed at the late hours of the gym, entertaining things he witnessed at during his most recent mission, even the plot of an old animated show he used to enjoy as a child had come up. The low rumble of his voice and the very silver moon that came in sparsely through the window shade were cause for Soonyoung to fall asleep no more than forty minutes later with the ghost of a smile on his face. 

The development in Wonwoo’s knowledge as to the intimacies of Jihoon and his relationship did not seem of concern. So much so that he kept their recent interactions in a special part of his heart, but thought nothing more of them beyond that. It wasn’t until one day on a warm summer evening when he had been happily informing Wonwoo of the happening on the only soap opera he could bear to watch from the hospital television. 

“And then she got him a job at the hospital, but he hadn’t been willing to compromise with the nurses. Stating that ‘things worked differently back in Mexico—’” 

He was interrupted. “Where is your personal nurse?” 

“Oh, why, she’s probably dealing with that patient that rings her just to flirt. She said she isn’t sure if sh—” 

Again. “No, the male one.” He made a vague gesture that Soonyoung could only be akin to a short man with very serious eyes. Putting his pointer and middle finger in front of his eyes, and then turning his hand to point them in Soonyoung’s general direction. 

“Oh–you mean Woozi.” He shifted a little in his seat. Almost as though he was so proud with himself he had to show the feeling with his entire body. “He went home to sleep. I told him he risked being outshone if his posture follied due to sleeping over my bed as he had.” 

Wonwoo was befuddled. “He slept here?” 

“Just a few times. . .” 

“More than once!” 

“He’s just—I had a nightmare once and called him up. HE decided to stay the night a few times.” He looked down at the bedding timidly. “I practically asked him.” 

“Practically.”

“Nearly.” 

“But you didn’t.” 

“In a subtle sort of way I did.” 

“Tell me.” 

“But⸻” 

“Tell me.”

He described the event in full detail, and getting little reaction he added: “The following day he stayed past visiting hours with a bag. I said nothing—swear! I also said nothing when it was opened to reveal a toothbrush.” 

Following this Jihoon mostly sat there playing games on his phone and checking occasionally to see if Soonyoung had fallen asleep. 

“So you didn’t ask him at all. But he stayed anyway.” 

“I asked him in a subtle sort of way,” he argued weakly. 

“You didn’t.” 

After that discussion he would go for a long while without speaking to either of them; afraid that Wonwoo would only bring it up again and speak of bigger things, and afraid if he reached out to Jihoon he would himself have to consider those things. Having his sister visit him every other day, and even once sleep through the night was what mostly kept him entertained, but speaking vaguely on the situation to her she gave him the exact thing he had not wanted to hear, but knew he needed to desperately. 

“If you’d rather live in incessant abstraction than having the full, grounded presence of—romance—you have to decide.” 

This he decided to put into immediate action the next morning. He had been allowed the cast to be removed and was not only in a sling. He figured it might not be too much effort to hold a pencil, so flexing his hand and testing the mobility of his arm he rang for the nurse. His heart leapt when she opened the door and announced a visitor—the long dark hair and the pointed chin and the stiff shoulders that he adored—and then one more. 

“Oh–big brother ‘Woo is here as well. . .” 

“You don’t sound as excited about that.” 

He put his good arm up to stage whisper: “He’s a real stick in the mud about–” he nodded toward Jihoon. 

“That isn’t true at all,” he hesitated. “You might even say we worked it out on the means of common interest.” 

Soonyoung looked over to Jihoon, and like he had been expecting to need confirmation he nodded his head somewhat solemnly. 

“You guys make a funny pair then.” 

Reaching over to grab the remote so that they might all find something to watch together he overestimated the weight of the sling in comparison to the plaster cast, and pausing in faint pain Jihoon very quickly realized and continued the action for him. When he was just above the remote he stopped, and exchanging a glance with Wonwoo decided against it. Soonyoung grabbed it for himself, and though he looked between them both skeptically they both acted as if nothing had happened. The conversation was pleasant though not very lively and Soonyoung reveled in having two very important people to him in one place.

“So when are they letting you out?” inquired Wonwoo. 

“They said I could leave as early as tomorrow, though there are a few more sessions of physical therapy they wouldn’t mind me staying for. They also said no shooting for nearly three weeks, and nothing very physical for two.” 

“Well, you can still do paperwork.” 

“Why’d you stop me from practicing to be ambidextrous?” he demanded of Jihoon.

“And give you another opportunity to hurt yourself?” he responded, but seemed to regret it shortly after. 

Wonwoo looked at the both of them. “How did you talk him out of it?” 

“His handsome eyes on his handsome face looked at me and his proud mouth said: ‘Soonyoung, you’d give up in a day.’ and I couldn’t argue with that.” 

“And what if I were to tell you?” 

“I’d say I can do quite as I please.” 

“I see.” 

Though Jihoon was a little less dutiful and quiet than when it was just the two of them he felt an inevitable and irrevocable shift in the demeanor of their friendship, and wanting to celebrate such he suggested they all went down to the cafeteria for ice cream. With no fighting they left, but glancing amongst each other it was as though Jihoon was trying his best to contain himself from watching Soonyoung, and Wonwoo was there to stop such. Soonyoung wondered mostly just how comfortable they had gotten with each other, and hoped that the glances may not have been a brief reassurance of their comradery.

The following day Soonyoung considered if he would like to return. With the medicine he had been prescribed and the readjusting of his sling, he considered himself ready. After much fussing from his family as he gathered his things and a quiet drive to his apartment he settled on his couch alone and somewhat relieved. He had gone through the whole ordeal almost entirely unchanged, aside from the added romance that came from being somewhat a hero. A long cool night with only a sliver of moon that he saw through his window out into the black night left him thinking of what he would have said in that letter, and if he had what it would take to consider doing it again. Something in the summer air comforted him and the familiarity of his room and walls and objects pushed him to try, and writing for more than an hour he fell asleep with the pencil and notepad on his lap. 

In the morning he dressed carefully, putting the sleeve of the shirt over his arm and then around his head, wearing his nicest slacks and the shoes he found he had the effort to put on. Being unable to drive he was willing to take the subway, but quite nervous for what he was about to do he missed three trains from lack of attention and went two stops past his own concentrating so hard on a spot on the floor in front of him. When he had finally reached the building, he was surprised to see Jihoon standing there. He looked about as in array but with nothing in his hands besides a bouquet of flowers. 

“Good evening,” Soonyoung began, heart pounding incessantly. 

“Yes—Hello—” he stuffed the bouquet into Soonyoung’s hand. “These are for you.” 

“Why—Thank you.” 

“And I’d like to say that—Well, thank you. And, of course, that I—Well I was wondering if you’d let me take you out on that dinner.” 

Soonyoung was overjoyed, but the small feeling of confusion at the statement was the only comprehensive thing. “What—?” 

“I got the target in one.” 

He finally realized. “I would love to.” 

“And next time maybe we might do better as partners.” 

Soonyoung laughed bashfully, and feeling the same intense emotion as he had on the mission nearly lept toward Jihoon, bringing their faces closer for a kiss.

Turning pink as the flowers in Soonyoung’s arm Jihoon pressed the elevator door. “There are people that’ll think you’re dating me just to get ahead.” 

“And there will be people that think you’re doing it out of pity.” The door announced they had reached their floor. 

“What will we do with the lot of them?” 

“You could scare them into keeping quiet.” 

Jihoon laughed. “You could charm them into figuring out the truth.” 

They walked out, and as if supernaturally, a light came from the elevator that illuminated them as they walked. It was clear that their relationship had changed, and that in some significant, romantic way they had changed each other.