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Jinman grit his teeth, forcing pressure onto his shoulder. Pain radiated, sending shockwaves throughout his body. He couldn’t believe he’d been this careless. Years had passed since the last time he’d taken a bullet at such close range. Thankfully, it had landed in an area that was treatable. It didn’t stop the pain from reaching unbearable levels though, accompanying the excessive bleeding.
He’d completely fucked up, that was for certain. Gritting his teeth, he rose up onto shaking legs, noting the intense scent of blood filling his senses. He needed to treat his wounds sooner rather than later. The danger was gone, for now, but if he didn’t receive help soon, then he’d pass out in the open, becoming vulnerable to whoever crossed his path.
Jinman had few options on this side of town. There was only one place he could go, and one person who he trusted enough to help; he just hated the thought of bothering her. Without alternatives, he made his decision without a second thought.
Jian had learnt a valuable lesson after recent events. More specifically— to sleep lightly, and be ready for anything, regardless of the hour. Living by herself meant that was more important than ever. Others couldn’t be relied upon. She had to care for herself as a priority, and have the ability to deal with any unexpected threats that might welcome themselves on her doorstep.
On this night, something woke her. Jian’s eyes flew open, body remaining still and silent. It took a moment to realise why she was awake. There was not a sound to be heard, so she waited. A click, like that of a door. Several loud, uneven thuds, like footsteps. Jian held her breath, noting the time. Barely past three in the morning. Hard to determine if this was a robber, or a hitman. Neither profiles seemed to fit what she was determining of the situation, adding to her curiosity.
What she did know was that she was no longer alone.
Jian silently slid off her bed, reaching to the compartment beneath it and retrieving her gun. She brought it close, turning off the safety and readying it for whatever might show up at her bedroom door. There was a slither of light shining from beneath, illuminating any movement on the other side. She held her breath, watching as a shadow was cast over it. Whoever was there had paused for a moment, making an odd sound that she could only describe as pained. Jian perked up, noting when the other moved past her door, heading towards the bathroom - as there was nothing else in that direction.
Rising to her feet, Jian stood beside her door, listening intently. There was the sound of running water, causing her brow to furrow with confusion. She placed a hand around the doorhandle, slowly and silently turning it, allowing the door to fall open. She peered out, seeing no one between the front door and her current position. Other muffled sounds were coming from the same place as the running water, and then—
An incredibly loud thump, followed by silence.
Pocketing her weapon, Jian sprang into action. Running to the bathroom, she pushed the door open, discovering the source of the noise. A large body, that of a man, was laying on the bathroom floor, completely still and unresponsive. He was face down, and his stature, his silhouette, could only lead to one person—
“Samchon?”
The first sensation Jinman could comprehend was cold. He was shivering, as if he were stuck inside a fridge, which made little sense, even in his delirious state of mind. Then he flinched when pain returned, pulsating, sending sharp sparks of agony throughout his body. He traced the source to his shoulder, noting that it was only one of several injuries plaguing him currently. At least two fractured ribs, and another possible bullet wound in his side.
He’d really fucked up, hadn’t he?
When Jinman’s vision began to focus, he discovered himself slouching against cold, hard tiles; once white, now appearing stained with his blood. Most of his view was obstructed by something else - no, it was someone. He tried to straighten his posture, to glance up at the other, but it was all so difficult. Pain mixed with exhaustion caused his body to barely respond to his requests. Now all he could tell was that he was being manhandled. His shirt had been cut open, exposing his skin to the cold. Blood was in his nose, soaking his tongue, causing him to feel nauseous.
“Fuck—!”
Jinman grit his teeth, not expecting to swear, but it was only a natural response. The gunshot wound in his shoulder felt as if his arm were about to fall off. Then he realised what was happening. There was someone there with him, helping him, or at least— trying to. They were sat on his lap, hands on his wound, and as he glanced over to the spot in question, he tensed at the sight. A set of thin tweezers disappeared into his shoulder, eliciting that same excruciating agony.
The second surge of pain he managed to bite back, expecting it this time. The shock had helped him regain some alertness, memories fading back in, and most importantly— recognising the person currently coming to his aid.
“Don’t be such a baby,” said a familiar voice, adding pressure to his shoulder. “Now stay still, otherwise this’ll hurt more than it already does.”
“Jian-ah...” Jinman chuckled beneath his breath, hurting himself in the process as it aggravated his ribs. “Sorry for... showing up unannounced...” He was just thankful he’d somehow made it here, to her, to safety— better than lying in the streets.
The pressure on his shoulder intensified. From what he could see, she was attempting to stop the bleeding. Jian had been taught basic first aid during their time together, that was something Jinman made certain of. Though his reasoning was to ensure she could care for her own wounds, should she receive any. Helping another wasn’t too different, but he could see her hesitation. She was shaking, struggling to keep calm, sweat beading on her forehead.
Jinman winced again when the pressure was lifted. He knew what would come next; the gory part. He suspected the bullet remained in his wound, requiring removal before he could be bandaged up. Something he’d done once before, long ago, and could easily do again. So he held out his hand once Jian picked up the medical tweezers, gesturing she hand them over. “I’m fine, I can do it, you don’t have to—”
“Shut up.” Jian’s response was firm and commanding. She didn’t even lose focus from the task at hand, pushing him against the wall and looking closely at his wound. “You’re bleeding all over the floor and have a bullet stuck in your shoulder. Let me help. Isn’t that why you’re here?” Her question was asked with a slight mocking tone, but her words were true. There was no other place he’d rather be, nor a person he trusted more than her.
Jinman smiled, even through the pain. She was so bossy these days. He loved that about her. Always doing what she wanted, never what she was told. She was just like him in a way. Rebellious. A free spirit. That’s what scared him sometimes as well. Jian was a fighter, able to persevere through hell— but at the same time, much like Jinman, she had a habit of walking right into trouble.
The pain worsened, even with what minimal painkillers were administered. Jinman insisted he’d keep a strong composure, not wishing more stress for what Jian had yet to complete. Her hand steadied, and he held his breath as she finally gained a grasp on the bullet, slowly but surely pulling it free. They shared a sigh of relief, but he still required patching up.
Jian turned back to the medkit, locating the next few items she needed. “I worry you won’t come home one day,” she said, intensely focused on threading the needle. “I thought you’d retired from this.”
Jinman’s expression softened, and he looked away once the needle was close enough to break skin, feeling his consciousness slipping again.
“So had I...”
Jian was not as weak as she looked. That had been proven during the hell that had unfolded by Bale’s hand. Her uncle had trained her well, but this was an entirely different situation, and she could admit that she was struggling. The moment she’d discovered him passed out on the floor, there was no doubt in her mind that he needed her help. The issue was his weight; years of muscle gains mixed with his height proved to be difficult for her to lift him. Somehow, Jian managed to drag Jinman to the closest wall and sit him upright. Then she could finally assess the damage.
He remained unconscious. His head lolled to one side, breathing ragged, and eyes closed. The scent of blood was overpowering, and Jian realised her hands were already covered in it. She couldn’t waste any time— returning quickly with a med kit and a pair of scissors. The only way to remove his shirt without agitating an injury would be to cut it open. She carefully sliced through the entire length of the shirt from the hem to the collar, pushing the fabric to his sides. It was difficult not to stare at his immaculate form; shaking her head, she returned her focus to the shoulder.
Jian had to draw close, and the only way to do that was to setting herself on his legs, almost as if she were sitting in his lap. She tried not to think about it that way, concerns rising for Jinman’s wellbeing for every minute he remained unconscious. The room was painfully silent, and staring at the bleeding wound and her lack of knowledge only added to her growing nerves. She knew a thing or two about medkits, some simple nursing basics. Stop the bleeding. Remove the bullet. Stitch and bandage. That should be sufficient enough, right?
Jian tried to focus, but she was nervous, hands shaking uncontrollably. There had to be a way to calm herself. It was everything else that was driving her mad. This wasn’t just anyone, it was Jinman. He’d left on this job two weeks ago. Every day she had feared he was never going to return, doubts turning to anxiety. It was always like this; and every time he disappeared, her heart would ache, and yearn for his company. The last few days she’d had plenty of time to reflect on her thoughts, on her feelings, finally realising what he meant to her. They’d grown so close in recent years, especially since all that went down with Murthehelp. But Jian knew her feelings were misguided, that they would never be reciprocated, and so it made sense to mask her emotions.
Dismissing her feelings for the moment was essential; they didn’t help the situation at hand.
Placing pressure on the wound, Jian finally received some sort of response. She was very close now, putting all her weight against Jinman’s shoulder, listening intently to his breathing. His lips parted, sounds of discomfort brought forth by her actions. Then his head rose enough to lean against the tiles, eyes struggling to open. Jian couldn’t deny how thrilling it was to be so close, to feel the warmth of another. Jinman was handsome, even like this; covered in blood and injuries. It wasn’t her fault that her uncle was so insultingly good-looking, though it made it difficult to not allow her mind to wander.
After what felt like hours, Jian finally saw eyes piercing into her. She turned her head, meeting Jinman’s eyes, remaining silent as he regained his bearings. He licked his lips, wincing at every movement she made, finally speaking to her through ragged breaths and pained sounds. They spoke briefly, and it was difficult for Jian to restrain herself. She wouldn’t stand for his bullshit excuses or push away the help she offered. By the time she finished with his shoulder, ready to stitch him up, she noticed he was losing consciousness again. Not only that, be another injury caught her eye— on his other side, near his hip. A graze rather than a bullet wound, but a wound that required treatment nonetheless.
Jinman’s head drooped again, and she tried not to panic. Placing a hand under his chin, she urged him to meet her eyes as they threatened to close. “I’m nearly done,” Jian reassured the best she could, trying to shake some sense into him. “Stay with me.”
Jinman sighed, becoming numb to the discomfort. When he’d awoken a second time, the pain in his shoulder was dulling, and Jian was working on a different wound; one dangerously close to his hip. He changed his focus, away from his ailments, and on the one who aided him. The caress of her hands. The outline of her form. The warmth emanating from her body. How her touch elicited shivers from his skin.
Jeong Jian. She’d become his entire world. An unexpected life thrust upon them both. Jinman had long since held regrets, knowing it was his existence, his failings, his past, that caused Jian to lose her parents - and nearly her own life as well. What else could he do than take her in, and train her to be strong? He’d always told himself to remain distant, to keep feelings out of it, to treat her like a stranger—
That was no longer the case. Years wore him down. Jian gradually crept under his skin, and cemented herself in his heart. He realised it now, especially with her so close. She was beautiful. Anyone could see that. Jian had grown up so quickly into such a strong young woman. A fighter. A survivor. A woman. That word repeated; a particular detail that struck him with newfound realisation. She was no longer a small, helpless child. In fact, the tables had turned, especially now. Definitely a Jeong, that was for certain. She’d proved herself worthy of that title.
Jinman’s issue was keeping their relationship as was; distant. He shouldn’t be thinking about Jian’s fiery spirit and alluring smile. He shouldn’t focus on the lingering thoughts in the back of his mind, or the way his heart would sometimes ache in his chest. He couldn’t disguise his feelings well, especially as days marched on. These feelings, his desires— he should be disgusted by himself, and yet, he never was. Something had changed, and he couldn’t ignore it forever.
He’d seen her lingering glances and touches. A growing worry had stirred. His own feelings were easy to ignore, but a fear grew within him each time he felt they might be reciprocated. Maybe it was best to keep their distance. Jian needed to spread her wings. He’d only hold her back. That was why he took these jobs, put himself in danger— to spend time apart, to erase the desires growing in his heart— to give Jian time to find someone else.
Jinman knew his plan was failing, and at this point, didn’t care to deny it any longer. His hands reached out before he realised it, cupping Jian’s face affectionately. “What would I do without you?” He muttered, smiling through the dulling pain.
It was only meant to be a platonic, cheeky comment. A rhetorical question, if nothing more. The same playful bullying he was known for. But at the same time, he meant it; his life was meaningless without her, to the point he feared he’d never be able to let her go. He was in too deep, and only realised it now.
Jian paused, and then she looked at him. Really looked a t him. Eyes pierced his soul. His heart flipped. Breath hitched, catching suddenly in his throat. The drumming of his heart beat was loud, deafening him. What was happening? A sudden fear overcame his senses, and he pulled away. This was why he’d been keeping his distance. He didn’t understand what she was doing to him.
Jian grasped his wrist, bringing his hand back to where it had been. She nuzzled against it, expression softening. “Promise me you’ll take me along next time,” she said, in a tone that broke his heart. She cared for him, and he was throwing himself into danger without giving it a second thought. “I can help,” she added. “I can fight. You... don’t have to do everything alone.”
Jinman wanted to say yes. He’d trained her well, knew she’d be capable of anything by his side, and make an amazing companion in the field. On the other hand, he couldn’t live with himself if he ever caused her harm, or lost her in the line of fire. He could never live with himself. He loved her too much, desired her life above his own. If only she could understand. He could never say no to her.
“I want to keep you safe. Let me help you,” Jian insisted, snapping him back into the moment. “Please... I can’t do this without you.”
Jinman blinked. That was his line. He wanted to keep her safe, but she saw it the other way around. Perhaps Jinman had been too selfish. He could admit that any day. His thoughts were turning into a muddled mess. Jian was so close to him, holding his hand against her cheek, the other curling around his neck. She leant in, pressing their foreheads together. He could barely mutter a word but—
“Jian-ah...”
Then their lips collided, and Jinman forgot how to breathe.
Jian thought her heart would stop. She had no idea what propelled her to step over the line. Emotions had become a confusing mess. Hiding her affections whilst living in constant fear of not seeing the man she cared for return to her had come to this. Anxiety was getting the better of her. Jinman had been so close. They’d shared a look that she could only interpret one way. And his lips were just as soft as she’d imagined. This wasn’t something she had experience with, and she didn’t want the embrace to ever end.
For a moment, it was reciprocated, and Jian felt like her heart was going to explode. Then it was over before it even begun; leaving her lips cold and lungs empty.
Jinman turned away, his expression a mix of emotions. “Jian-ah,” he said weakly. “We can’t—”
“Why not? I’m not a child anymore.” Jian’s response was panicked. She feared being rejected, of being seen as nothing more than a child for him to be responsible for. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions,” she added, ensuring Jinman could see her for the woman she was.
“You know that’s not the reason,” Jinman replied, with a sense of fear in his voice.
Jian knew exactly what he meant. They were family. In a way she despised, if only for it to complicate the feelings in her heart. “I know, I know, but...” Her voice softened, staring down between them and grasping Jinman’s hand firmly. “I can’t help the way I feel.”
Who was Jinman to her? A father? A brother? A lover? He was all those things to Jian, and more. Her entire family. The definition didn’t matter. All she wanted was him, in every sense of the word, in all her entirety. She just needed him to understand.
“Jian-ah...” He spoke her name with familiar fondness, torn by the predicament they found themselves in.
“Please don’t push me away,” Jian pleaded, holding his hand firmly and nuzzling against it. “You’re all I have.” She didn’t want to cry, but it was beyond her control now. This was her breaking point. Jinman would have to make a decision. He could return her feelings, or at least consider them— or stumble out the door and disappear from her life forever. With the second even being a consideration, Jian wept with fear, wishing she’d never kissed him in the first place should such a reality come true. “You’re all I want...”
There was a soft chuckle, and Jian opened her eyes, confused by his reaction.
“You’re so stubborn, Jian-ah.” Jinman smiled, thumbing away a stray tear from her cheek. “You always get what you want... and nothing will change that.”
Jian’s heart leapt into her throat. She nodded earnestly, glad he understood. “Exactly. There’s no point fighting it. Just...” She sniffled, returning his smile, before softly requesting, “stay with me.”
She’d inched closer as she spoke. This time, Jinman didn’t turn away as their lips met. Somehow, he understood her; felt the same burning desires that had been driving her crazy these past few months. Any doubts were dissipating, and Jian was losing herself in the sensation, deepening the kiss. There was a gasp, and Jinman flinched. Pulling back, Jian swore to herself, completely forgetting just how injured he was. They could figure this out later. First, he needed to sleep whilst the pain persisted.
“Let’s get some rest. Then we can talk in the morning,” Jinman offered, and Jian realised just how exhausted he looked. She couldn’t possibly object to that.
Rising from his lap, Jian used her strength and the aid of the bathroom wall to pull Jinman to his feet. It was a slow and delicate process, ensuring they didn’t tear open the stitches she’d so carefully sewn. Throwing Jinman’s arm over her shoulder, she took on his weight, slipping her free arm around his waist. Standing still for a moment, Jinman readied himself, barely clinging on to his remaining energy. It was times like this that Jian noticed just how intimidating his stature was in comparison, and in all honestly, she loved that about him.
Jian remained composed, holding back the more intimate desires that threatened to cloud her thoughts. There would be a time later to consider that, to think about the two of them, and what that meant going forward. It was only now, once they’d stumbled to her room, that Jian remembered she only had a single bed in her apartment. A moment passed by in awkward silence before they continued. Jinman was her focus right now, and she could feel his strength waning. He could take the bed, and she’d figure herself out later.
Jian pulled away the moment she’d ensured he was comfortable. Her bed looked so tiny with him upon it, to a near comical extent. But when she turned to leave, a hand caught her wrist, and she couldn’t help but meet his eyes. Jinman’s hold on her slackened, his breathing laboured from exhaustion. He simply asked her to stay; if she wanted to, of course. There was a mutual yearning to remain near, and Jian didn’t need to hear his request twice to answer. By the time Jian had settled beside him, Jinman’s breathing had evened out, sleeping soundly despite his injuries. That same exhaustion was infectious, and as Jian closed her eyes, all her concerns withered away into the night.
They were together, reunited after what felt like months. Jinman was here, by her side, where he belonged. They only had each other now— and what awaited them in their future would remain to be seen.