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For a moment, the image doesn't quite compute in Seongje's mind. Go Hyuntak is here, hands in his giant fucking sweatshirt, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. As if it’s completely natural for him to be standing in the middle of a drug den in Seoul, bright white shoes digging into the stained carpet.
It’s so wildly alarming that for a moment Seongje nearly laughs. Good boy Go Hyuntak walking into the dim, clammy, sorry excuse of a house.
“Where’s Geum Seongje?” is what he says when the room quiets down.
Fucking idiot.
“Hi, baby.” Seongje saunters over, careful not to let the tension show in his body. “Missed me?”
Hyuntak’s jaw twitches. Normally, that’d send a thrill down Seongje’s spine. He loves the look in his little Eunjang’s eye whenever he’s seriously pissed off, about to swing. The thing is, Seongje’s on somewhat of a probation here. He’s graduated from the kiddie shit to real, bona fide, criminal activity, and with that comes a certain level of responsibility.
He’s still proving to these guys that he’s not a kid, that he can be trusted. Problem is, word seems to have gotten around about his little tiff with Baekjin, and these guys are on edge. They think he’s volatile, messy, unpredictable. He can’t have Go Hyuntak storming in here, chest puffed out, like he’s going to dismantle their ring and be home before dinnertime.
So, he’ll just have to make them think Hyuntak’s his. Nobody touches Seongje’s things.
“Wolf,” someone else chimes in, Taemin, he judges from the way his words are muffled by the obscene amount of chewing tobacco packed in his lip. “We got a problem?”
“No problem. Just haven’t been giving my guy enough attention, huh?” he directs the question to Hyuntak, patting him on the cheek.
Axe fake retches, catching Seongje’s eye. He’s leaned back on the yellowing plaid couch, legs spread, hand perpetually on his crotch.
“Thought you weren’t gonna bring that gay shit here, Wolf, you know I got a sensitive disposition.”
Seongje sucks his teeth. Imagines punching Axe’s in.
“Come on, baby.” His hand closes around Hyuntak’s arm, hauling him into the kitchen.
“Don’t—” Hyuntak fights back as Seongje shoves him through the swinging door into the next room. The overhead lights shine fluorescent on them, fill the room with a droning buzz. “Don’t grab me, you psycho.”
"Go Hyuntak," Seongje invades his space, gripping his face, his fingers digging into both of his cheeks, and rendering the sour look on his face ineffective. He leans in close. "If you wanna make it out of here untouched, then just pretend to be my date. You can be a bitch about it all you want later."
“I’m not scared of those dipshits,” he grits out, shoving Seongje’s hands away.
“Then you’re even dumber now than you used to be,” Seongje says with a laugh.
Hyuntak huffs and crosses his arms, but some of the fight drains out of him as he looks around. The kitchen’s a mess. It’s disgusting even by Seongje’s standards. The cabinets are crusted with whatever gunk dripped down there the last time someone actually cooked in here, and someone’s been soaking a pan in the sink for so long that whatever food was stuck to it has fully liquified. It’s rank.
“What the hell is this place?” He lifts a sleeve-covered hand to his nose. Like that’ll block out the smell.
“Can’t tell you that, sweetheart.”
Hyuntak glares. “Don’t call me that.”
Brat.
“Hey,” Seongje watches Hyuntak startle. He leans in again, close. “I’m not playing around, Gotak.”
Now he looks uneasy. Good. Seongje’s uneasy too. Hyuntak's eyes bounce around Seongje’s face.
“What kind of shit have you gotten into?” It’s rhetorical, almost a whisper.
“What’d you come here for, huh? Your mommy never taught you to mind your business?”
“I was trying to help you, dickhead.”
Well, that’s new. Seongje raises a brow.
Hyuntak huffs, then drags his phone out of his pocket. “A guy stopped by my campus the other day.”
He holds out his screen, on it is a photo of a man in a suit, there’s a cup of coffee sitting in front of him, untouched. Only one half of his face is visible and the photo’s taken from a low angle, like Hyuntak was trying to sneak a picture from under the table. He’s got a silver stud in his ear. Seongje’s never seen him before.
“He offered me a deal, said he could get payback for my knee, if I helped him find you. The whole thing felt off, he definitely wasn’t a cop.” He flushes a little, the scar on his nose showing that much brighter. “I felt gross about it, wanted to warn you.”
Cute. He’s itching to tease Hyuntak about it, except the fact that someone's been asking about him, threatening him, however indirect, is pissing him off. How annoying.
“Wolf!” Taemin yells through the door. “The fuck is taking so long?”
Ah, shit.
If Taemin finds out that someone was asking about him, he’ll be out. They might even hand him straight over to the guy if they can find him. He’s not an easy guy to rattle, but in the weeks he’s been around these guys, he’s seen some of the fucked up shit they can pull.
Hyuntak’s looking at him like he’s assessing, putting pieces together in his head. And Taemin’s gonna burst through that door any second, and it’ll be over. They’re fucked. They—
Shaky hands pull Seongje’s head down by the neck, and then Hyuntak’s kissing him hard and bruising, biting at his lip so harsh that it punches a grunt out of Seongje, and plunging his tongue into his mouth the second he has the chance.
It’s all sharp for a moment, and then Seongje feels Hyuntak’s lips soften, plush; feels his tongue glide smooth and wet over his own, and he can’t help but groan. His arms snake around Hyuntak, his fingers dip just under his sweatshirt, rub in soft circles on his lower back, like he’s rubbing something else.
Hyuntak gasps, his hands digging into Seongje’s neck. His rhythm fails for just a second, long enough for Seongje to take over, lick into his mouth and suck on his tongue, slow and dirty. It makes a wet, suction sound, and Hyuntak lets out a helpless little moan. His legs part, and Seongje’s about to grab his thigh, pull it over his hip, press him against the only clean wall in this shithole and show him exactly how much trouble he’s gotten himself into.
Before he can, the door bangs open, thudding against the fridge and startling Hyuntak into pulling away.
“Jesus fuck,” Taemin says. “You gotta do that shit here?”
Hyuntak retracts his arms, moves like he’s gonna back away, and Seongje reels him in close again.
“Sorry, hyung. You know how it is.” He lets a hand slip down and grab at Hyuntak’s ass, cop a feel, smirking at the way it makes him jump.
“No I fuckin’ don’t.” He pushes the door open again, pausing before he can step back into the other room. “Wrap it up here, Wolf. And tell your boy not to pull this shit again.”
Hyuntak straightens, like he wants to protest being talked about and not to. Seongje moves fast, brings his hand up to Hyuntak’s neck this time, and grips him there like a warning.
“I’ll handle it,” he says.
Taemin looks at them for a moment longer, and Seongje counts, one, two, th—
“Do that,” he says, then he shoves his way back out of the kitchen.
The two of them stand there, just catching their breath for a moment. Hyuntak’s ears are bright red. Seongje wants to bite them. He sighs, patting Hyuntak’s ass a couple of times just to see him squirm.
“Come on, Eunjang,” he says. “Let’s take you home."