Chapter Text
Yeonjun weaved his motorcycle around car after car, ready to be sitting home on the couch, sipping an ice cold beer. His taillights swayed back and forth as he twisted across the street, cutting through every light that was seconds from turning red. He ignored the honks that followed from angry drivers, whipping passed uncaring. His heart accelerated as he revved the gas, speeding up. Yeonjun danced around a truck that attempted to cut him off, laughing when he received the middle finger.
He was aware that he drove dangerously but he had overwhelming confidence in his skills. He didn’t care that no one else knew that. Personally, he thought they should feel grateful that he’s matured from his teenage years, where he’d pop wheelies and throw his cigarette butt at vehicles that annoyed him. He loved witnessing the rage in their eyes. However, not once has he gotten in an accident. Well, with another vehicle at least. There were plenty of times he took his bike on a dirt track, trying out risky tricks like he was Evel Knievel, while his friends cheered him on.
Yeonjun has more or less put those days behind him now that he’s 26. Sure, he still likes to have fun every now and then, it’s not his fault they don’t know how to anymore, he thinks as he smokes out a black sedan riding his tail.
Yeonjun finally comes to a stop at a red light even he wouldn’t risk, balancing his feet on the pavement with his bike stationed between his thighs. He rolled his neck, cracking the stress out as his leather jacket squeaked from the shifting. His TV was calling his name, just a few more minutes and he could sit around drinking over the weekend.
Green.
With a quick flex of his fingers, Yeonjun gunned the engine, his gloves providing extra grip on the handle bars. He was drifting across the intersection when a sudden movement caught his peripherals in his rearview mirror. With no time to react, the black sedan from earlier collided into the back wheel of Yeonjun’s bike. He had no time to shout as he flipped forward, the violent crashing of metal ripping through his ears. Instinctively, his arms braced outward, attempting to cushion the blow as he rolled across the street. A nearby car swerved, narrowly missing his body.
Yeonjun lay on his back groaning, his elbows and right knee screaming in pain from the harsh impact. He could feel a wet trickle run down his arm. Shouts rose as people ran out of their cars to check and make sure he wasn’t just killed. However, he was more upset that his precious bike lay collapsed ten feet from him, pieces of metal and plastic littered around it. Yeonjun ripped his helmet off with his good arm.
He stumbled to his feet, ignoring a middle aged man trying to help him up while constantly asking if he was okay. But he shrugged the kind man off, glaring instead at the suit wearing, slicked-back douchebag that just wrecked his motorcycle. Yeonjun limped angrily towards the man who stood propped against his driver side door, an iphone pressed against his ear.
Yeonjun shouted, lifting his arms in disbelief, “What the hell, man?”
But he received a raised finger, signaling for him to wait while the groomed, aristocratic asshole finished his phone call. He leaned on his good leg impatiently, ready to tear the guy a new one the second he was done. Waves of pain crashed over Yeonjun as he clutched his arm painfully, glowering hatefully at the well-dressed man who looked to be no older than he was.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Mr. Arrogant pocketed his phone neatly in his suit jacket before giving his attention to a pissed off Yeonjun, “I’m terribly sorry about that, you’re not hurt are you?”
Yeonjun sneered at the badly concealed smirk, easily reading that the man must have hit him on purpose.
Ballsy.
“You owe me a new bike, you smug bastard,” he spat out.
The man raised his eyebrows as if this was news to him, “Do I? As far as I see it, your reckless driving scratched the front of my brand new car.”
Hesitating, Yeonjun properly assessed his situation: the expensive suit, the barely marked Bentley that looked to be the latest model, then the Rolex watch worn by the smirking driver.
Yeonjun was screwed.
-
He was able to fix up his bike at the mechanic shop he worked at after hours, but that was where his luck ended. Not long after the accident, he received a bill in the mail for $2000 concerning repairs for the Bentley. He stood in the middle of his small studio apartment, hands shaking before he angrily crumbled the bill and pitched it across the room. Realistically, Yeonjun shouldn’t have to pay for those tiny scratches to get fixed, but he didn’t have insurance. And Slick obviously knew some people to get the price that high.
Yeonjun stumbled to his worn, fabric couch he found in a dumpster, cracking a beer while he pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t have that kind of money just lying around. Not to mention the medical bill he knew he was soon to receive. His left wrist was broken and his ankle had a fracture line. If anything, Mr. Rich and Powerful should have compensated Yeonjun for his injuries.
He glared at the yellow stained walls. Whatever, he was in this situation now and whining wouldn’t get him anywhere, he needed to come up with a plan. He sighed heavily, watching as a roach scuttled across his living room floor. Grabbing an empty beer can, he hurled it at the little demon, missing by inches as it disappeared.
His head fell backwards hitting the wall with a thump. What was he going to do?
-
Yeonjun grimaced as he gingerly swung his leg from his motorcycle, having parked at his workplace. Mr. Park scolded him countless times for not using public transportation with his injuries, not to mention coming to work in the first place when he should be on bed rest. But how else was the black haired man supposed to pay off his debts. Not like the money as a mechanic left him anything extra after rent and bills were paid.
Patching up a customer’s tire that ran over a nail, he glared regretfully at his stretched out leg, his boot big and ugly. The cast around his arm was annoying, but still manageable, even if it did hurt like a bad break-up. Although, it has been a few weeks already, and he planned on cutting it off himself soon. He sure as hell couldn’t afford another doctor’s visit. A vehicle pulling up caught his eye, and for a moment he thought it was the jerk that ran him over, but a second glance told him it was a different car model.
An older woman who looked to be in her 40’s stepped out, flipping her sleek, styled brown hair. Oversized designer sunglasses perched on her straight nose, her perfectly manicured nails sliding them down to inspect around condescendingly. Yeonjun’s eyes raked down her body, taking in her tailored suit and skirt.
Oh yeah, Yeonjun thought, this lady screams money. A loose plan slowly unfolded in his mind.
Wiping his hands on a grease stained rag, he pushed himself to his feet, stepping over to greet the woman.
“Hello, how can I help you?” Yeonjun asked with his customer service voice.
She sneered as her eyes grazed over his injuries, but quirked her eyebrow in interest upon resting on his face. Yeonjun hid a smirk, knowing she liked what she saw.
“I have an appointment for one thirty,” the woman announced.
“Mrs. Jung Jihye, correct?”
She sniffed, “It’s Ms.”
Yeonjun grinned, “I’m sorry. I just assumed with a woman as beautiful as yourself...”
She scoffed, but wasn’t entirely displeased.
“How can I help you, Ms. Jung?”
The woman folded her sunglasses delicately, nose slightly raised in the air, “You tell me,” she retorted.
He chuckled like she said something funny, and turned her vehicle on, inspecting the dash for any warning lights. Yeonjun moved around expertly, spotting the problem and immediately popping the hood of the car open. He offered her to sit in the waiting room, but she refused. Probably a control freak, Yeonjun thought to himself. Some customers stuck around to watch them suspiciously, making sure nothing gets stolen from their vehicle. As if they wouldn’t immediately get fired from their job if they did that.
Yeonjun made idle chatter, sending the occasional grin the woman’s way. She barely reacted, but he could tell with the way she fixed her hair every time he gave a compliment, she liked it. Especially when he guessed her to be in her low 30’s. She tucked a lock behind her ear, unable to hide her pleased smile this time as she didn’t correct him.
Ms. Jung waved her finger in a circular motion towards him, the sneer coming back to her lips, “What happened here?”
He chuckled lightheartedly, “Ah, this? Motorcycle accident.” Yeonjun glanced over meaningfully, “The cast is ugly, isn’t it?” The look in her eyes told him she agreed. He shrugged nonchalantly, “Lucky for me, doctor said I should be good to go in a couple days.” That wasn’t entirely true, it's more like he was going to pitch the stupid handicaps the first chance he gets. However, he still wanted his bones to heal right.
“Your girlfriend must have been upset to see you hurt,” she snuck in, not as subtly as she thought.
Yeonjun showed off his white teeth, making sure Jihye saw him check her out, stating simply, “No girlfriend.”
After a half hour of forced flirting on Yeonjun’s part, and light conversations, the Bentley was ready. Wiping his hands on his rag, he faced Jihye, “You’re all good to go.” Locking eyes, he added, “If anything goes wrong, please come back. I’ll take care of you, personally.” He let the emphasis linger as she clicked over to the driver side door, a noticeable sway to her hips that wasn’t there earlier.
A few words of farewell, and Jung Jihye was off.
Yeonjun let the smile fall from his face, the two bills waiting for him on his kitchen counter, haunting him. His medical expenses, plus the car repair, accumulated his debt to $13,000. But, he’s nothing if not an optimist. If he read the signs right, maybe the stars would align in his favor.
They had to.
-
Yeonjun must have done something right in a past life, because a couple weeks later, Jung Jihye came back. Complaining about a nonexistent noise, it allowed him a chance to talk with her more. He felt more confident and free to flirt openly with his casts now gone. Only a slight limp remained that he could disguise when needed.
Things were wrapping up quickly, and Yeonjun worried he may have misjudged the situation, until Jihye said the magic words. “You’re funny.”
He smiled charmingly at her, then opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, before closing it with a shake of his head.
Not missing the pause, she asked, “What is it?”
Yeonjun hesitated, gnawing his lip in thought, as if contemplating if he should open up, “I- no, I shouldn’t.”
Jihye fluttered her eyelashes, “What? You can tell me.”
“I-,” Yeonjun started, making sure to glance away in embarrassment, “I’m sorry. It’s just, you’re so beautiful, I really want to ask you out. But...”
“But?” She lingered on the word in anticipation.
He sighed deeply with a hint of regret, “But look at me. I’m just a mechanic. I don’t have the money to treat you to a nice dinner. A lady like you deserves so much more than I could give.” Yeonjun smiled somberly, “I’m just sorry for it, that’s all.”
She assessed him, a hundred thoughts dancing behind her eyes. Crap, did I lay it on a little too thick? Did I come off as pathetic instead?
Mentally berating himself, Yeonjun turned to his tools, putting a few away while he raced to think of how to amend the situation.
He heard the clicking of Jihye’s heels saunter over to him. Yeonjun stilled as she tapped a sharp, decorated nail under his chin, examining his features haughtily. With a flick of her wrist, she coolly handed him her business card. Yeonjun stared at it, brain not yet catching up with him.
“My number’s the first one at the top,” With a flip of her hair, she slid in her vehicle, leaving without another word.
Meanwhile, a smug smile slowly grew on Yeonjun’s face.
He was in.
-
They were nearly two months into dating, which mostly consisted of Yeonjun showing Jihye a good time while she paid all the expenditures. He tried his best to display effort by grabbing coffee or buying the occasional bouquet of flowers. Yeonjun’s original plan, as guilty as it made him feel, was to get invited to her house, and snag a ring or necklace to sell. However, not once has she let him in her home, which looked more like a suburban mansion, and he found he may not need to resort to thievery with the bit of allowance she lent him. It would take much longer, but there was no risk of jail time if he got caught.
They were sitting at a white tablecloth, candlelit type of restaurant, sipping on expensive wine that Yeonjun found himself loving, when she threw a bomb on him.
“I’d like for you to meet my son,” Yeonjun choked on the wine, hastily snatching up his cup of water to clear his throat.
Trying to compose himself, he blinked at her with what he hoped to be mild interest, “Y-your son?”
Jung Jihye smiled at his reaction, “I know, hard to believe I’m old enough to have a 16 year old.”
Not really, Yeonjun kept to himself. He supposed he should’ve seen this coming, but with her cold personality, he assumed Jihye was the type to either not want kids, or they were estranged adults. Not teenagers still living at home. He could only imagine how bratty and arrogant her son must be.
Unfortunately, this threw a wrench into his plans. Children meant commitment, if he stuck this out for the long run, she might expect a proposal at some point. Then Yeonjun would have to choose to be a step-dad at the age of 26, or go back to being stuck in debt. Maybe he would have to resort to thievery.
Crap.
Yeonjun suddenly tuned back in, only now realizing Jihye was still talking, “-self-sufficient so there’s not much to do with him. But I figure we’ve been together long enough that you two could meet.”
“Oh, uhh,” blinking rapidly, the black haired man acted on his feet, casting a warm, charming smile, “I’d love to meet him.” Not. “Just say when and where, I’ll be there.” Or I’ll rip that diamond necklace off your neck and run when you’re not looking.
Later that night, Yeonjun stared at the ceiling, going over the call he received earlier concerning his lack of sufficient payments. He rubbed a hand over his face with a groan. It didn’t take much for him to rethink breaking up. Anyways, Jihye’s attractive enough, and it’s not like love has to be on the table for him. He can just fake it until maybe it happens, it’s not really a his priority. Who knows, maybe his goal should be a marriage where he could live a life of luxury.
He could even kick her son out the second he turns of age. He smiled to himself with this brilliant thought. Yeonjun’s options weren’t looking so bad after all. Just keep the mother happy enough, and he’s set for life.
Fate really dealt him a good one this time.
-
Yeonjun stepped into Jihye’s home for the first time, immediately overcome with sparkling floors, wide space, and extravagant everything. From the Arabian rugs, to the leather couches, the 80” inch screen TV, the tables made of mahogany wood. His eyes roamed endlessly across crystal chandeliers, decorative vases, and a wide, center staircase.
This woman was loaded!
The black haired man subtly pinched his leg to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
Yes. This was his new plan. And he’d do anything to get it.
“Fetch Kai for me, Hee-jin ” Jihye commanded their butler, who bowed and quickly ran up the stairs.
Yeonjun had to suppress his excitement that there was an actual servant at her beck and call. He had to remind himself to stay focused, at least try and make a good impression on the snot-nosed brat while his mom was around. He pictured a younger version of the man who wrecked his motorcycle; haughty, a polo shirt, a smug punchable face knowing he had more money than you.
Yeonjun suppressed an eyeroll, as he frowned over a weird piece of art next to him.
Out of the corner of his eye, Yeonjun spotted a meek figure making their way down the stairs. A small teenager with brown, fluffy hair, wearing an oversized blue hoodie and regular, faded jeans.
He heard Jihye mutter, “I told him to wear something nice, that little brat.” He blinked, wondering if this was actually her son.
The boy came to stand in front of his mom and Yeonjun, not glancing up from his mop of hair. His hands were covered by his long sleeves, and he nibbled on his bottom lip.
Jihye crossed her arms, “Well? Don’t stand there and be rude, introduce yourself.”
“Oh,” Kai breathed softly, before bowing at a respectful ninety degrees to Yeonjun, “Hello, I’m Kai. It’s nice to meet you.”
Shit he’s cute.
The man inclined his head, “Yeonjun. You too.” The pair stood awkwardly.
Jihye cut through the atmosphere, “Should we make our way to the dining room? Dinner should be ready soon.”
Kai and Yeonjun nodded simultaneously and followed her.
It wasn’t until they were all sitting down, an array of French dishes surrounding them that he couldn’t pronounce, that Yeonjun let his imagination wander. Of him living this dream, of it being a part of his life, and the look on his best friend’s face when he invited him over.
However, the waves of tension pulled him out of his lovely daydreams.
He expected the dinner to be a little stiff, but this was pushing the limit. No one said a word as Jihye sat at the head of the table, Yeonjun and Kai on either side of her. Her son studied his plate of food, not once lifting his head. It felt like they were at an important meeting.
Yeonjun was almost ready to create a makeshift pitch over who knows what.
Cutting delicately into a piece of meat, Jihye addressed the teenager, “How was school today?”
Kai shrugged quietly, “Fine.” The man could tell from the way he moved, his leg was jigging up and down under the table.
“And? All I get is a fine?” She pursed her lips with an arched eyebrow.
He shrugged again, muttering, “I don’t know. It was fine.” Yeonjun was surprised at how timid and quiet this kid was, like he was caving in on himself before his eyes.
Jihye placed her fork down sharply, leaning forward, “Speak up. You know I hate it when you mumble.”
Kai remained silent.
With a huff, Jihye turned to Yeonjun, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why he’s acting this way.”
“Nothing to worry about,” the man replied with a polite smile.
“Honestly, I’m afraid he gets it from his late father.” Yeonjun leaned in attentively, there’s been no talk of previous relationships so far. “He was quite a shy man, never spoke up for what he wanted as long as I knew him. He had a more pushover personality.” She shook her head.
A loud clattering sounded, and Yeonjun watched as Kai shoved his chair back, his fork and knife scattered on the table where he dropped them.
Jihye stared at her son in utter astonishment, scolding, “Kai! What has gotten into you?”
Kai blinked rapidly, regretting his impulse, before stammering an apology, “I-I’m sorry. Thanks for dinner.” He bowed quickly, pushing his chair in desperate to escape, then turned tail and ran back up to his room.
Yeonjun wasn’t sure what to do as Jihye muttered insults, embarrassed by Kai’s actions. She apologized to Yeonjun again who just waved her off.
They talked the rest of the evening, but Yeonjun’s mind kept wandering over to the glassy sheen over the boy’s eyes.
-
“Yeonjun, are you crazy?”
Yeonjun was peering over his best friend’s bookcase, pulling out stories to flip through only to place them back on the shelf uninterested.
“Look, I know. But what choice do I have? You’ve seen where I live-”
“-And I’ve told you repeatedly you can come live with me.”
He sighed at his best friend, “And I’ve told you Soobin I’m not doing that. I prefer living alone, even if it’s in a bad part of town.”
“A bad part of town?” Soobin called incredulously, standing in the middle of his cozy living room with his arms crossed. He lived in a nice loft, close to a penthouse, but not quite as fancy. “It has the highest crime rate in the city! I don’t understand why you’re so stubborn.” Yeonjun rolled his eyes, no matter how many times they had this conversation, he never got it. “You do realize you’re a hypocrite.”
Yeonjun frowned with a twist of his lips, “What are you talking about?”
Soobin scoffed, “You say you want to live alone. But you’re literally talking about exploiting some wealthy woman to the point of marriage. That’s not living alone, moron.”
The black haired man laughed, tapping the spine of a book to his temple conspiratorially, “Yes, but with the size of that house, I’d basically be alone.”
“Okay,” Soobin sighed tiredly, plopping onto a spinny, leather chair, “And what about the fact she has a literal child.”
He came and braced the arms of his best friend’s chair, leaning in uncomfortably close with a manic look in his eye, “That’s the beauty of it Soobs-”
“Don’t call me that.”
“-the kids already 16. A couple years and as his dad, I can kick him out. Tell him to get a job and work hard to earn a living. It’s a lesson everyone needs to learn, I’d be doing him a favor. It’s a win-win.”
Soobin glared at him, long and hard. His jaw worked as he observed his friend, who was apparently dumber than he initially realized. He pointed a finger at Yeonjun’s face accusingly, who instinctively licked it. Soobin hastily wiped his finger in disgust while the black haired man grinned at him.
He brought up what was on his mind, “So, you have this great plan to infiltrate someone’s home, forcing yourself into their lives, but there’s one thing you haven’t thought of. Okay,” he backtracked, “Many things, but one glaringly obvious problem.”
Yeonjun studied his friend suspiciously, wondering where he was going with this. He finally pulled back, assessing Soobin with squinted eyes, “And what would that be?”
Soobin leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped together. He peered cuttingly at Yeonjun through his fringe, “What happens when you actually start caring for them?” Soobin was afraid for his friend. If he did this, he would be living a lie, regardless of if his feelings for the woman changed. He’s already started his relationship with a lie, nothing stays hidden, and the younger man could only see heartbreak in his best friend’s future.
But Yeonjun just scoffed out a laugh, falling onto a loveseat with his feet hanging over the edge. A smile danced on his lips, as he stared pityingly at Soobin, like he was the stupid one, “I thought you knew me better by now. Trust me, there is no way I’d fall for some stick-in-her-ass lady, or care for her pathetic son.”
Soobin shook his head disapprovingly. No, Yeonjun was the one that didn’t understand.