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Taeyong yawns, a perfectly manicured hand coming up over his mouth.
This party, if you could even call it a party, was painfully dull. The mundane buzz of the half assed small talk and soulless laughter makes the night feel a million times longer. The gentle music from the band just feels like it's lulling him to sleep.
The party was hosted by Kota? Koda? Or was it Koga Yudai? Some fancy pants hotshot making waves in trade and commerce. Honestly, he wasn’t really paying attention during the mission debrief, if the way Doyoung kicked his shin under the table was anything to go by.
He makes his way through the crowds with ease, heels clacking against he floor in rhythm with everyone else, not a single eyelash or strand of hair on his totally not fake wig, out of place.
The reminder of his get-up makes his face twitch, a slight crack in his perfect mask. The deep red strapless dress leaves much of his skin out in the open, and the slit hiking up his right leg leaves goosebumps in its tracks.
“Hyung!” A voice crackles through the earpiece hidden under the somewhat itchy wig, the hint of laughter in Haechan’s voice almost makes a vein pop out of his forehead, “Stop scowling! You’re a sexy young lady in a red dress looking for fun.”
There’s a slight pause, “and a computer to fuck up!”
“That’s easy for you to say when you’re not the one wearing this skimpy dress and these,” Taeyong grits his teeth, looking down at his fake cleavage, “what size is this? A C-cup? What the hell is wrong with you? Are you a pervert?”
A wig? A dress? A pair of fake silicone breasts?
Yeah, ridiculous.
“It’s all part of the plan! Like I said, just be sexy and slut your way around.”
The whole thing seems unnecessary; he’s broken into more secure buildings under shittier conditions. The entire ordeal has Haechan written all over it, with the way the younger man coincidentally had everything prepared: the clothes, the makeup, the plan to be sexy enough not to raise suspicions as he sneaks behind closed doors.
Once again, ridiculous…but Haechan isn’t an idiot; there has to be some substance to this so-called ‘plan’, at least it was a change of pace. That’s what Taeyong tells himself as he feels his silicone boobs slip in the slightest off of his very flat chest.
He tries his best not to awkwardly readjust his… boob.
He stiffens when he feels another body bump into his, and he turns around with a practiced tight tight-lipped smile. It’s a short balding man in a disheveled suit. Taeyong guesses this is some lowlife who could barely skim the bottom of the elites to be here.
The man grumbles before looking down at Taeyong’s exposed leg. Then up his body. And back down his leg again, with a greasy smirk.
Oh brother.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” The man grins, Taeyong winces, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Here all by yourself?”
Taeyong does everything in his power to keep his eyes from rolling. Yes, he had a mission to act sexy and get around the building, but he certainly didn’t want to act sexy for this pathetic excuse of a man.
“I guess you could say that…”
He tries to step away slowly, hoping the man is buzzed enough not to notice, but unlucky for him, an uncomfortably heavy arm clamps down on his waist, sweaty fingers feeling up and down his body. “Well, if you stick around me, I can make your night worthwhile.”
Taeyong lets out a forced laugh as he forces every muscle in his body not to shatter the uncomfortable hand gripping his waist. He can smell the booze coming off the man’s hot breath in waves; it’s making him sick.
He can hear Haechan snort in his ear, and his eye twitches, and before he even has the chance to find some excuse to get this pig's arm off him, the man suddenly stumbles forward in shock, the drink in his hand spilling all over the front of his shirt.
Taeyong blinks as he turns to the side to see Nakamoto fucking Yuta in all his glory with a shit eating grin, looking very proud of himself.
Nakamoto Yuta, the sole heir to his family’s business. What that business was was none of Taeyong’s business; he has connections that run deeper and darker than anything your mind could come up with. That man was devilishly handsome and dripping with malice.
Not someone Taeyong would ever want to associate himself with, a man like that was too unpredictable. But unfortunately for him, Yuta was someone Taeyong knew. With a job like his, there was no way he wasn’t familiar with the freak of a man standing before him.
“What the hell–”
“Oh, my apologies! Didn’t see you there, the wine must be getting to me.” Yuta fishes through his jacket pocket for a moment before handing the man a business card, “dry cleanings on me.”
The man snatches the card from his hands, muttering, "Damned brat.” Before walking away, forgetting about Taeyong completely.
Yuta was a real asshole, a sarcastic son of a bitch. Over the years, they’ve butted heads too many times to count, whether it be quick jabs at each other, to full-on fists to the jaw, and blood splattering across the floors. Something about the other man just makes Taeyong lose all his composure; it pisses him off.
Yuta is the red sock in the washing machine, staining pristine white clothing. Yuta is the slimy worm destroying a perfectly sweet apple from the inside out. Yuta is the scab on your knee, dripping blood and never healing.
“I didn’t need your help,” Taeyong says, smoothing down his dress from the unwanted groping. The last thing he needs is sweaty hand prints on his dress, well, Haechan’s dress, wherever he got this from.
“I know,” Yuta gently takes a hold of one of his hands, too gentle for a man of his nature, leading him out to the dance floor, towards he crowds of other couples twirling around to the soft music. He shrugs before continuing, “He had the nerve to step on my foot earlier. These are new shoes.”
Taeyong hums, there was something in his eyes he couldn't quite name. He follows Yuta’s stride with ease, the other man’s eyes flicker down for a brief second before looking back up at him, “Nice rack by the way.”
Taeyong stares at him, truly at a loss for words, but he can’t help but genuinely laugh at the crude remark as the music fills his ears, letting Yuta lead him around the floor.
Sometimes he wasn’t bad company.
Yuta leads them around with ease, Taeyong didn’t have to worry about the way they spun about, instead his eyes flickered around the room searching for any way to get away from the party and into the back. The doors are somewhat guarded, the security looking like they’re barely paying attention, yawning just as much as he was earlier.
A couple with flushed faces stumble over each other's feet as they make their way through a set of doors, looking desperate for some privacy. Taeyong watches as the guards pay them no mind. He looks at Yuta, who was already looking that way, and the beginnings of a plan form.
Taeyong tugs at a strand of his hair, “What are the details on the area behind me?”
There’s a moment of silence before the in-ear crackles, “Looks like it’s a hallway with a couple of offices, meeting rooms, and a supply closet. We might be able to grab something from one of the computers if you can make it back there.” He can hear the way Haechan types away on the keyboard.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“We.”
“Excuse me?”
“You mean what we can do?” Yuta insists, the stupid smirk gracing his lips again.
Before Taeyong can even think of clawing his manicured nails into Yuta’s shoulders just to watch him wince, he feels his shoulders bump into someone. Jesus, just how many people is he going to run into today?
Taeyong watches Yuta’s face harden into something unreadable, the hand on his waist tightening. He braces himself as he turns around to see none other than Koga Yudai himself, his baby-like face and doe eyes would have you second-guessing how he could run an empire this large.
“Yuta, what a nice surprise. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Yudai smiles, twirling the glass of champagne in his hand, the bubbly liquid swaying.
“I would argue it hasn’t been long enough, Kei.” Yuta quips, half-joking, half-not.
Taeying raises a brow, ‘Kei?’
“You wound me.” The other man feigns hurt, putting a hand against his chest before he looks at Taeyong with a smile. Something about the twinkle in his eyes is a little off. Taeyong internally groans, Oh great, another freak.
“And who's this lovely lady? Enjoying the party, my dear?”
Taeyong quickly morphs his expression, “I’m Rose, Mr. Suh’s representative for the night.”
“What a pretty name for a pretty flower.” Taeyong can feel Yuta’s fingers twitch. He tries to ignore the way Yuta subtly tries pulling him back, “How is Johnny? Shame he couldn’t be here tonight.”
He pinches Yuta’s thigh with his free hand, getting him to stop, smiling as he continues, “Truly, he sends his apologies for not being able to attend, business calls, as you know.”
Yudai laughs, “Oh, do I ever. Well, I’ll be on my way; my dear friend here seems to be growing impatient. It was a pleasure meeting you.” He waves, turning around and disappearing into the crowd as fast as he showed up.
Taeyong turns back to Yuta, glaring daggers at Yudai’s general direction. There’s a crease in his brow, and a slight frown on his face, and it almost makes him look cute.
“Jealousy is a disease, you know.”
Yuta pouts, “Who said I was jealous?”
“It’s funny, I haven’t seen you seem actually upset since the last time we fought and I gave you a black eye.”
Yuta laughs as if recalling it as a sweet memory, before pulling Taeyong in closer again, hand slipping down, ghosting over his ass as he whispers into his ear, “Did I at least look hot just now?”
“What the fuck–”
“Shh, I’m getting us back there.” Taeyong shivers when Yuta actually squeezes his ass, choosing to ignore the way it makes his whole body tingle.
Yuta keeps his arm possessively around his lower waist, steering them towards the doors, “Keep blushing like that and you’ll end up doing all the acting for me.”
Taeyong feels his neck and ears absolutely burning up, but two can play at that game. He also wraps his arm around Yuta’s waist, toying with the belt loops on his pants, his other hand coming up to his chest, feeling up his pecs. The way the other man’s breath stutters is enough satisfaction for now.
The guard standing a few feet away from the doors simply takes one look at them before looking away, thinking they’re just the next pair of the night looking for an empty room and a quick fuck.
Once the doors behind them shut, Haechan comes through in his ears again, “I skimmed the building layout, and the 4th room on the left has a computer to access. It’s far enough from the doors but close enough if you and your boyfriend need a quick escape.”
“He’s not my–” Taeyong hisses.
Haechan cuts him off without a care, “I’ll keep monitoring the cameras. Good luck.”
Taeyong taps Yuta’s waist four times, tracing the letter L on his side. Yuta quickly gets the memo, pretending to slightly stumble against the walls and blindly reaching for the knob of the door.
Once they’re inside, Taeyong reaches for the USB stick from the garter belt on his thigh, choosing to ignore the way Yuta whistles at his dress going up. He pulls out the chair, turns on the tower, and plugs it inside, letting Haechan’s meticulous code do its magic.
Taeyong glances up to see the other man snooping through the shelves without a care in the world. Picking up priceless trinkets and tossing them up in the air like a cheap baseball. He shakes his hand before he leans back in the chair, rolling his stiff shoulders.
Taeyong chews on his lip before breaking the silence, “Why are you helping me? No one informed me this was going to be a joint operation.”
Yuta looks confused, “You didn’t know? I was the one who asked Johnny for this job.”
Taeyong’s mouth falls open to an O. The eagerness of Haechan’s plan suddenly makes sense. This meddling punk.
Yuta deadpans, “You weren’t paying attention to the debrief, weren’t you?”
He flushes with embarrassment, “Shut up, I was.”
Yuta laughs, “Well, since we’re here, I might as well lay it out. Kei’s been overstepping lately. Why do you think his name’s been on the rise this fast and this quickly? He’s either found a sudden influx of new clients on the market who I need to win over or…” And his voice drops, the usual playfulness on his tongue all but gone, “Some of my clients need a reminder of where their loyalties lie.
Damn, that is kind of hot.
His thoughts are interrupted as the computer finally unlocks, and Taeyong’s eyes fly across the keyboard, eyes searching for the right information. He grins once he finds the long list of transaction histories and contacts, he quickly goes to transfer all the information onto the USB.
1%... 2%...5%....
He groans, leaning back and closing his eyes. This was going to take a while.
All of a sudden, the chair spins, and he’s met with Yuta leaning down over him, hands gripping the armrests, caging him in.
“And maybe I just wanted to see you.” He says too sincerly with a smile that’s just as sweet as his words, it makes Taeyong’s hear– head squeeze. He holds a breath as Yuta tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear, finger tips caressing his face.
Taeyong doesn’t know how to process this. So he does what he does best.
“Quit fucking with me.” He spits out, standing up and pushing the other man back until he stumbles, knocking into a shelf near the desk. It rattles loudly as Yuta groans at the sudden pain.
He glances at the computer. 26%...27%...28%... Goddamnit.
Taeyong barely glances Yuta’s way before he’s pinned to the desk, pain shooting up his spine as the wooden edge digs into his lower back. His head thumps against the flat surface, and his head throbs as he stares up at the dark eyes already looking straight at him. Now that’s something Taeyong’s never seen on his handsome face– hurt.
“What is your problem, Taeyong? Do you think it’s that impossible for me to just want your company?” Yuta’s grip on his wrist tightens; any harder and he might break something. Or bruise.
“Yes! Everything about you is impossible!” He manages to yank his wrist free from Yuta’s grip, and he swings, punching him square in the face. Yuta curses, hand coming up to his nose as blood drips onto Taeyong’s face, but at this point, he doesn’t even care.
“I never know what you’re going to do or what you’re going to say or how you’re going to plague my thoughts. You drive me crazy; it makes me lose my fucking mind. I can’t stand it– just get off me, fuck, I can’t do this–”
Taeyong’s ramblings get cut off by Yuta’s hands around his throat, effectively cutting him off from words…and air, “Holy shit, can you shut up for a second?”
Yuta is looking down at him again, this time his smile back in full force, chest heaving, and blood smeared across his face, and Taeyong is mesmerized. He’ll blame it on the lack of air being pumped to his brain.
Before Yuta can open his mouth to say something, Haechan’s voice rings out in his ear, “I hate to interrupt whatever the fuck is happening right now, but there are two guys headed your way. Hide or do something!”
Do something? Easier said than done, he groans.
Yuta must notice the sudden change, his hands dropping from his neck, and he sucks in gulps of air. “What is it?” Yuta tilts his head.
Taeyong sits up and pushes him away with less force this time, walking around the desk, chewing his lip at the incomplete file transfer still displayed on the screen, “Take off your coat,” he demands, walking back over to Yuta.
“Woah, take me out to dinner first.” He smirks, but complying nonetheless, handing Taeyong the coat, which he flings over the monitor, effectively blocking out all traces of the light.
The action seems to get the gears turning in Yuta’s head, his gaze turns serious, “Is someone coming?”
“Yes, and we need to hide now–” Taeyong grits through his teeth, the room proving to be useless with no way to conceal their presence. Before Taeyong can even suggest anything, Yuta pushes him back to the desk, lifting him onto the surface this time. He grabs his arms and throws them around his neck, one hand returning to Taeyong’s waist and the other sliding under his thigh, lifting it.
Taeyong splutters, his face no doubt turning red at the proposition, “What are you doing?” He hisses, thinking about kneeing the man in the crotch. Their faces are so close to touching, Taeyong can still smell the alcohol on his breath and the scent of Yuta’s cologne. Tart cherries and vanilla.
“Saving our asses,” he says simply before connecting their lips as the door behind them opens.
Taeyong gasps, his open mouth allowing Yuta to take control of the kiss with ease. The hand under his thigh slides down to his ass, there’s no doubt that Yuta doesn’t feel the lace covering his ass, if anything, it makes the man squeeze. Taeyong lets out a shocked moan, hands finding purchase in dark hair.
Fuck, he forgot about those. Another part of Haechan’s genius plan, saying Taeyong’s boxers ruin the way the dress sticks to his body.
The door opens to two of the guards shining flashlights in the dark room, and Taeyong pulls away, burying Yuta’s face in his neck, the blood covering his would no doubt raise an alarm. He shivers at the feeling of a hot mouth kiss and licking at his exposed skin, “Sorry, we’re kind of busy–ah!”
The moan ripped out of his throat as Yuta sank his teeth into his flesh, licking over the bite mark as a half assed apology.
The man closest to the door bows, “Apologies, Miss.”
Before the door fully closes, Taeyong hears the other man speak, “We’re still getting pinged. It must be a computer on the other side, this half of the building didn’t have anything. Let’s get a move on before the boss finds out.”
“So…panties, huh?” Yuta smirks, wandering hands tracing the lace lining the edges.
“Bastard.” He mutters before yanking Yuta’s head down to his own. The kiss is rough and messy, their teeth clanking against each other in eagerness. The taste of blood was the only thing he could taste; the fact excites him even more. They don’t part for ages until the lack of air gets to be too much.
The room is filled with the sound of labored breaths, and Yuta bites his lip harshly before diving back into his mouth, licking behind his teeth and just about every crevice he can find. The dull ache from being thrown around earlier turns into a pleasant buzz as their kisses never stop.
They pull away again, foreheads resting against each other as they catch their breath. Taeyong absentmindedly uses his hand to wipe away the blood from Yuta’s face, the latter’s eyes closing in satisfaction as he leans into Taeyong’s palm like a cat.
He slowly reaches up and cards his fingers through Yuta’s hair once more, before grabbing a fistful and yanking it hard. Yuta whimpers in the slightest, neck flexing as Taeyong pulls his head to the side. He presses a kiss to the unmarred skin, the red from his lipstick and blood smudged onto his neck.
Taeyong pulls back, satisfied with his work.
“Now that we have a moment–” Yuta breathes out.
Taeyong suddenly puts a hand to Yuta’s mouth as Haechan’s voice comes back, “First of all, mute your damn microphone next time, Jesus Christ.” It’s followed by a fake gagging sound, and Taeyong rolls his eyes.
“And, you guys better get out of there. It looks like the security’s starting to beef up; this party might be over before you know it.”
Taeyong signals Yuta to step back. He walks over to the computer once again to see the screen at 100% completion. He tosses the jacket back to the man before unplugging the USB and shutting off the computer, making sure to leave no trace.
“Copy, the files are done. I’m heading out now. Send the guys over to get me.”
“Yessir. And since you know, you can just hand over the USB to Yuta. Unless you want another excuse to see him again for a hand off.”
Taeyong chooses not to respond to that for his own sake; he tosses the USB over to Yuta, who just finishes putting his jacket back on, “I’ve gotta go. The security’s being upped, I’d rather leave now than later.”
He walks out the door with Yuta right behind him. The man extends his arm out with a grin, and for once, there’s no bite on his tongue as he takes it. They walk down the hall in silence, Yuta opening the doors to the main room, the dull music and chatter flittering through his ears again.
They start walking towards the exit before Yuta speaks, “Hopefully, there’s no more interruptions, but I was trying to say that I–”
Yuta grunts as a sudden influx of people knocks into him, jolting him in the other direction. Their arms separate, and before Taeyong can turn to find him again, the barrel of a gun is pressed against his back.
“To think you almost got away with it,” Yudai’s voice rings out behind him, the man grabs his side, pulling him further away from where Yuta was dragged along. “This doesn’t have to end this way, if you just hand me the USB. I’ll let you leave and let this serve as a reminder to keep your pretty little head out of places you don’t belong.
The hand on his waist snakes its way up to his jaw, his thumb dragging over his lip, “Or an invitation to work for me instead.”
In the distance, Taeyong manages to lock eyes with Yuta, his confusion quickly turning into anger. Taeyong bites his thumb, grinning at the way Yudai curses, “Like hell I’d work with you.”
Yudai’s hand returns to his jaw, grip tight, “How cute, now hand over the USB and I’ll consider not killing you, can’t say without injuries now.”
Taeyong uses his hands to pull down the one gripping his jaw, just enough to speak. “I’d love to, but I don’t have it.”
“What?”
The split second of confusion is enough for Taeyong to jam his heel into Yudai’s foot whilst twisting the arm on his face. The other man groans in pain as Taeyong turns, grabbing the gun from his hands and shooting a bullet into his leg.
Yudai screams, crumpling to the floor while clutching at his leg, and the whole room breaks out into chaos as Taeyong begins to run towards his partner.
Yudai’s scream alarms his men, who are blocking Yuta’s way, because they all turn their heads towards the sight of their boss on the ground. It’s enough of a distraction for Yuta to pull two guns from their waist, wasting no time in releasing a bullet into their heads.
They drop to the ground like flies as Yuta also makes his way towards him. The sound of bullets firing over his head makes him sprint faster, heels be damned. He and Yuta both flip over the heavy wooden table of refreshments, thousands of dollars worth of booze and horderves crashing to the floor.
The screams of the other partygoers echo throughout the room as Yuta and Taeyong fire rounds of their own into Yudai’s men. Taeyong pulls the trigger, but an empty click is all he’s met with; he curses, tossing the empty gun to the side. It’s too hot, too loud, too uncomfortable– he looks down his cleavage. He rips the silicone off, throwing it against the wall, watching it bounce on the floor. Still fucking ridiculous.
The ringing in his ears makes him hold his temple.
He brings a hand to his earpiece, “Haechan, when are you getting here? It’s looking ugly, we don’t have much ammo left.” As if on cue, Yuta drops to the floor, throwing another empty gun to the side, quickly reaching for another from the dead guards. He leans over the edge, firing more rounds without a beat of hesitation.
“They’re almost there! They’re going to throw in smoke grenades; that’s gonna be your only shot. Go out back through the kitchens, they’re on your left side. I’ll give you the signal.”
Yuta grunts, grabbing the last two guns on the floor, “This is all we got left.”
“My guys are throwing in a distraction soon, we’ve got to make a break for the kitchen on the left.” He eyes the doors down the left, it seems like such a faraway escape,” How the hell are you getting out of here?”
Yuta grins as if gunshots aren’t taking chunks out of the wall behind them, “My boys are out back, I told them not to worry. You lead and I’ll cover.”
Taeyong is amazed at the way he doesn’t seem to be worried in the slightest, as if their slim chance of making it out of the building makes this all the more exciting. In a way, Yuta’s confidence in their skills also makes him less worried.
Haechan’s voice rings out, “Hyung, now!”
And in that moment, the sound of glass shattering fills the large room. The smoke canisters hit the floor in clinks, and the smoke fizzes, filling the room with thick grey clouds, the gunfire ceases for a moment, and Taeyong knows it’s their chance.
“Run!”
He and Yuta spring up from their cover behind the table, and Taeyong runs towards the doors. The adrenaline keeps his legs going, doing his best not to stumble in these shoes as he shoves past frazzled people and steps over lifeless bodies. It doesn’t take long for the gunfire to resume, though he isn’t worried at all.
The world seems to slow down when he turns his head to look at Yuta, the man’s eyes wide and sparkling, the way he smiles from ear to ear as he aims both guns with ease. It’s then that he realizes the other man is laughing, the sound reaching his ears like a melody– call him crazy, but it almost feels like he can still hear the band.
Yuta’s hair is all mussed up, dirt and debris caught in the strands. The blood dripping from his face, who knows if it’s his own from the way Taeyong punched him or from the countless people left on the floor, drips down onto his clothes. And then he looks at his bloody lipstick mark on his neck.
He looks like a fucking mess, but all Taeyong can think about is how beautiful he looks.
For the first time in what feels like forever, Taeyong feels like his life has color again.
The revelation comes as Taeyong shoves his shoulder into the swinging door. The kitchen is all but abandoned save for the few people who ran inside to hide, crouched on the floor, too afraid to look up for any sudden noises.
The sound of metal hitting the floor brings Taeyong back to the current situation. He watches another pair of empty guns slide across the floor as Yuta eyes up a metal fridge near the door before pointing at it.
“Help me with this. We can block the doors, and I think we should be good.”
Taeyong nods, going over to his side. The two of them grunt, shoving the giant hunk of metal with all their might, but the fridge doesn’t slide at all. It tips over, and they step back as the whole thing crashes over onto its side with a loud bang.
They stare at it and laugh; the people cowering behind the island counter watch them in fear.
Taeyong laughs until there are tears at the corners of his eyes. He holds his hand out to Yuta with a smile, “Shall we?”
Yuta looks at him with a dumbfounded expression, shocked that Taeyong of all people was extending his hand to him. He takes it anyway, their fingers intertwining, “This is new.” Yuta muses.
Taeyong hums, leaning forward to connect their mouths once more, despite the situation, the kiss is tender. Not before he feels Yuta trying to shove his tongue in his mouth, and he pulls away before things get too heated. He giggles a the way he tries chasing his mouth with a pout.
Taeyong pats his cheek before reaching inside his dirty coat pocket, fishing out his business card, and holding it up between his fingers, “Why don’t you call me up later, and you can finish what you were trying to say earlier?”
Yuta’s eyes light up, “Deal. Now let’s get out of here.”
The pair hurriedly runs towards the green exit sign, the echoes of their laughter fill the battered room as they disappear into the dark alley.