Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

CHAPTER ONE: THE STREETS ARE LOOKING DIRTY

I want the parts of you you only show

To the corner of your bathroom mirror

Death was a difficult thing to look at with your own eyes. It was a terrifying and inescapable reality, one that few would ever be prepared to face. The sight of it was something we instinctively longed to avoid, keeping it far away in the corners of our minds in order to protect our fragile sense of innocence. To witness the light leave someone was unsettling. The body, once filled with life, becoming cold, rigid, it was chilling in itself. Call it selfish protection, but this was simply the truth. Dying was inevitable, no matter how feared, and we lacked the ability to look it in the eye.

Contrary to this, Felix watched the pitiless demise of a gentleman without so much as a blink. His breathing was the only give away that something was deeply, morally wrong with what he was doing. Shortened breaths, quickened heart rate. He could feel the adrenaline whirring in his veins, tightening his muscles as he held position. He was unable to peel his gaze away from the brutal scene unfolding right before him.

Behind the concealment of a poorly boarded window, he'd tucked himself into a corner. The absence of sunlight benefited his want to remain hidden. Only gentle moonlight spilled into the dark room, allowing him to veil himself in the blackness. He could see through the slither of an opening between two wooden slats, staring with a hollow gaze as a pair of men beat another to death. He knew, innately, the nature of those hits and kicks was to kill. As frightening as this was, he kept watching.

The cool, nightly winds caused no disruption to the cruelty of the baseball bat in one of the savage man's hands. The other stranger stood back, leaving room for his partner to swing with full force. A jarring crack pierced through the air, tough bone splitting under the pressure of the weapon. A flash of blood glimmered beneath the moonlight, adding to the gruesomeness. Felix felt his breath hitch as he curled in on himself. A scream died in his throat.

By now, he assumed he’d long since adapted to the cruelty that stained the streets he called home. He’d seen this kind of violence before, countless times in his life, yet always from a distance. But never this close, never directly outside the comfort of his house. Growing up in the slums of a city consumed by chaos had done its damage, its constant disorder shaping him in ways that were hard to comprehend. The city had made its mark, acclimatising even the weakest soul to violence.

But this? This was different.

Despite all his conditioning, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. His heart raced, and his breath snagged in his throat. His hands moved up to cover his mouth, an admittedly futile attempt to stifle his shock. His nerves were alight, his fingers trembled, and his heart raced.

The man with the bat grunted as he finalised his assault. The navy blue jumper on his back made no effort to quash the visible heaving of his shoulders, deep breaths taken as he stepped away from the product he'd created. His boots were heavy against the concrete, light thuds resonating along the empty alley. The other man appeared less fazed by the combined attack. His own unbuttoned suit kept its straight lines as he moved away. Without a word exchanged between the pair of men, they left. Their figures disappeared into the night, and what remained was the mangled corpse of the brutalised individual.

Felix gazed down, through the crack in the window, at what could only be described as a mess of bone fragments and viscous, soupy blood. Felix felt immediately sickened, nausea overtaking him.

He waited until the sound of their footsteps was gone, until there was no sign of them left. The silence that followed felt heavy, filled with an unexplainable anticipation. His limbs were statuesque, body immobilised by sheer alarm. The room had grown cold, the air thick with the weight of reality. Every breath felt shallow, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. His limbs were locked, unable to move, trapped by the chill of fear that crept through him.

He'd just watched someone die.

In spite of the horror shaking through his entirety, his mind was gripped by a particularly interesting thought. He was stuck on it, milling over the fact that he had recognised the dead man before his untimely demise. Chu Dohyon, a politician renowned for his investments into Next of Kin Co. when the company was first starting up. His name had been relatively unheard of in recent media, but that was not to insinuate he'd lost his reputation.

He was a respected investor and was highly regarded for his help in the newest advancements in genetic engineering. Considering the hype surrounding these scientific achievements, Chu Dohyon wasn't an unpopular man. His death had most certainly been politically motivated. Felix needed to know who those people were. Not to hand them over to the police, however, but rather to show his gratitude to them. They had done a service to society by ridding it of that dishonourable man. He needed to thank them if anything.

He double and triple checked the coast was clear before so much as thinking about moving from his spot. Once the back alley was for certain empty, Felix emerged from the tight corner of his living room. With great caution, he crept across the short distance of the room in the direction of his front door. His house keys were stuffed in his pants pocket, as per usual, and he reached in and grabbed them out. For safety reasons, he couldn't just leave them out in the open or anywhere far from his person. Times were dangerous.

He stepped outside, feeling the breeze on his face. He fumbled with the keys for a moment before using them to lock on his door. He tried the handle. It was securely closed. His eyes did a quick sweep of the area, noting it was as lifeless as ever. The other units in the dodgy complex had been abandoned years ago. It was a wonder how they hadn't been inhabited after the escalation in crime and the re-housing many people had to do. Nowhere was safe anymore, not even beyond the slums. He was lucky to have a home that wasn't crawling with amateur thieves or murderers. Most people living in these parts were like him, simply without assets. Homelessness levels had risen unbelievably high after the introduction of Next of Kin Co., or NOKC for short.

Initially, it had started out as an organisation where you could send off a swab of saliva and see your genetic origins. You would receive back a paper stating your ethnicity and that was the whole idea of the business. Until word got out of the unethical practices being conducted by of NOKC, it was a booming market. The business had then overtaken the black market and, subsequently, the common market after its ventures in DNA testing technologies.

In more recent times, when Felix was just learning to count, word had begun to circulate about DNA swabs being sold on the black market. Individuals' personal information was specified in these dealings, and soon they were being used to other people's advantage. An uncountable number of innocent civilians were consequently framed for serious crimes because their genetic details had been leaked. Unless your face was stamped on top of the crime, unless the police had irrefutable evidence that did not rely on DNA results, you could get away with murder.

If the world wasn't a hazardous place before the Genetic War, it was after. People quickly relocated to safer areas, further from the ocean where bodies were being dumped, and closer to the capitals where there were more police stationed. Panic continued to roam the veins of innocent civilians, even to this day. NOKC was easily linked back to this increase in framed killings and robberies. Instead of the public coming together to take the malignant company, people protected the business. Guilty people came to its defence and now, unfortunately, it stood tall over all other establishments. NOKC was powerful, even still.

The police worked for NOKC, society was controlled by NOKC, and nothing could be done to combat this.

At least, not yet.

The two men Felix had just seen murder a strong political figure might be onto something. He hoped he could track them down, maybe even help out if they needed a new target. He had a couple (hundred) names up his sleeve to hand out if there were people willing to exterminate the evil individuals in this world.

The potent scent of dead fish intensified as he scaled along the exterior walls of the other units. The smell was always worse outside. In school, he'd learned that it was a luxury to live by the ocean years and years ago. Beach houses were a common holiday destination, a surprisingly wanted destination. These days, though, the sea was intentionally avoided. The smell of fish was definitely something, but the closer you got to the water, the harsher the scent of dead bodies became. Death was everywhere.

His footsteps were near silent as he left the darkened complex, entering into the illuminated street. Minimal orderly street lamps lit up his path, assisting him in getting to where he needed to go. He had a strong feeling he knew somebody that could lead him to those two men.

- 

The journey from his unit to the nearest bar was fairly brief, a mere few blocks away. The trip seemed to go faster each time he walked this way, as his body was familiar with the route. Working streetlights grew in numbers and though that fishy smell was still everywhere, it became lost amongst the mixture of fragrances brought about by the night crowds. The surrounding environment was busy as he got closer to where the night markets and shops were. People filtered in and out of the stores, chatting in hushed voices amongst themselves. It wasn't that they respected those who were asleep at this godawful hour, on the contrary, they didn't want others listening into their conversations. It was better if tones were dampened, rather than having the wrong type of person overhear something of importance — a location, a name.

The streets began to bustle with life, Felix very soon blending in with the flowing horde. He glided through the swarm, eyeing the neon signs that hung from one of the many establishments around. Hot pink luminescent letters glowed in stark contrast to the inky sky, spelling out the accustomed words: BLIND SPOT. A fitting name for a tavern that was renowned for its under-the-table criminal conduct. The authorities were strictly prohibited from this specific bar, and anybody from the inner city. Nobody from those crowds were welcome anywhere near here, which made it the perfect place for someone like Han Jisung to frequent.

Jisung had been a good friend of Felix's for a while now, having met him at this precise saloon on one extremely rainy day a couple years back. The weather had been no reflection to the lively atmosphere that Jisung created that day. The memory of Jisung sliding into the stool beside Felix was still vivid in his mind. They had talked up a storm back then and tended to do the same every time they met up. Jisung's intentions the first time they greeted each other was to figure out the nature of Felix's visit to Blind Spot, having never seen him there before. And also because Jisung had quickly recognised Felix as a NOKC employee. It was only after Felix had removed himself from NOKC that they truly became close friends.

Nowadays, it was a regular occurrence to find the pair sitting beside one another in Blind Spot. Having any relation to Han Jisung was a blessing, whether it be as his bartender or his next-door neighbour, but it was especially a gift to be his good friend. In this world, knowing people and having a strong social network were of utmost importance, and Jisung knew people. Like the names were written on the back of his eyelids, Jisung knew half of the population in the suburbs, and that was no underestimation. He'd met with people of high regard; he'd spoken to even the lowliest of individuals.

There was a saying that circulated among those in the slums: if you've heard of Han Jisung, he's heard of you. His ability to soften the edges around harsh people and slacken the borders of people's defences was truly a brilliance that he'd been born with. This talent of Jisung's took no vacation. This was evident when Felix climbed the few stairs leading into the tavern and spotted his friend across the room. Jisung was animatedly conversing with a bartender, his smile ever-present. A half-empty glass was clasped in one hand, the other smacking the top of the bar in enthusiasm. Even the staff member was cracking up at whatever was being said, her shoulders shaking as she laughed. Their voices mingled with the pack of tipsy customers'.

Felix made his way over to Jisung, coming up to lean on the bar beside him as there were no available seats nearby. The low, pink lighting made every face positively shine in the dim space, and Jisung's facial expression could only be described as bright as Felix interrupted the discussion to say hello. An arm came around his shoulders, pulling him into an eager side-hug.

"Felix! What are you doing here at this hour?"

Jisung turned to face him better, not appearing disconcerted by the sliver of distance between them. Blind Spot was filled to the brim tonight, so there really wasn't any extra space to be using up.

Witnessing a callous murder, Felix was tempted to say. His own smile faltered a little.

"I wanted to talk," he responded over the incessant hum.

A poppy tune was buzzing in the background, the bass vibrating in the floor as Felix stood there. Smoke and flavoured vapour wafted into a blurry fog around their heads, trying their darnedest to overpower the smell of the rotten ocean. Though it was an ordinary scent that Felix was quite used to by now, it was still disgusting. It was congested inside.

"About what?" Jisung asked. He nursed his glass, paying full attention to Felix now.

"Can we speak outside?"

Not thinking twice about the request, Jisung bid his farewell to the bartender. He thanked her for her time and said they should meet up again sometime soon. He downed the rest of his drink in one trained swig, a small hiss escaping his lips. His head motioned towards the doorway, indicating they should leave. Together, their bodies melded with the throng outside as they navigated their way to a quieter location. Jisung greeted at least three different people as they shuffled along, which came as no surprise to Felix.

There was an alley between Blind Spot and its neighbouring business, leading through to a relatively unpopulated parking lot. Less strangers to eavesdrop ln their conversation and less noise, as well. The pair found their way to the area swiftly, familiarised with the streets. Felix propped his back against the rear of Blind Spot, the brick digging into his spine. He fixed his posture as Jisung settled next to him. They looked out over the desolate parking spaces, comfortable in each other's presence, but wary of the strangers looming around.

"What did you need to talk about?" Jisung asked again, seriousness falling over his face. It wasn't often that they needed to go outside to chat about something, so he was likely presuming there was an issue.

Felix's eyes skimmed the carpark, noting the only others around were far enough away that they wouldn't be able to hear him. He thought back to the violence he'd watched not twenty minutes ago. The idea of someone listening in to what he was about to say was enough to make him whisper, despite the distance between himself and other people. Only Jisung could hear what he was going to tell.

"I saw someone die tonight," he uttered, leaning in so his friend could pick up his words. "It was Chu Dohyon. Two guys killed him."

Jisung slapped a hand over his mouth, smothering a gasp. He stopped leaning against the wall, stepping closer to Felix. He realised this was a topic that needed to stay hidden from the general public, his own voice growing hushed.

"Chu Dohyon? Fuck, Felix, that's serious stuff. Where— how did you come across that? Do you know who did it?"

"I don't know who they were. I saw it happen in the alley behind my house. They must've thought the area was completely abandoned because they weren't exactly... gentle about their methods. Or silent," Felix detailed mindfully. Jisung winced at the implication. "I actually wanted to know if you knew them."

"That depends," Jisung muttered with a tilt of his head. "What do they look like?"

"I don't have a picture," Felix sighed.

Mobile phones had gone out of fashion recently, what with there being so many advertisements in apps and tracking devices wired into them. They were unwanted. Flip phones had taken their place, seeming like a reversal of technological advancement. In reality, this was because the type of device people wanted had no camera, no apps, no nothing, except texting and calling features. Even then, many were sceptical about the ethics being applied when keeping these features. Cameras were not as available as they once were.

"Can you describe them at least?" Jisung prompted instead.

"Well, one of them wore a black blazer over a grey shirt. He had muscles, and lots of them. I didn't really get a good look at his face, though. The other guy had a dark blue hoodie and combat boots on. He was kind of... pretty looking, I'd say. He had a baseball bat, too," Felix told, trying his best to remember the characteristics of the two men he'd seen. It had been so hard to see in the dark.

"Muscles, combat boots and a baseball bat," Jisung considered. A few hundred people could be crossing his mind right now. "And they killed a politician like Chu Dohyon. Politically motivated, I'd say."

Felix nodded; he'd come to the same conclusion. He wondered how many murderers Jisung came into contact with on a daily basis. If the motive of the kill needed to be specified, then Felix surely didn't want to know the numbers on that.

"I do know a group of guys who specifically target politicians involved with NOKC, which Chu definitely is. I don't know their preferred weapons, per se, but I do know there's personal history between most of the members and NOKC. Many vendettas in that gang. Using a blunt weapon is usually a passionate means of killing."

Jisung's brain made his skin crawl sometimes; he was too intelligent.

"So, you're saying members from this group are the most likely ones who did it?" He clarified. Jisung gave a quick nod. "Who are they?"

Jisung sent Felix a suspicious look, curiosity taking over now. A cheeky smile took over the solemnity on his face, creating a teasing expression.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious, what can I say? I want to know the two tough guys that beat a shitty politician to death. I want to thank them." Felix shrugged like it was that simple. He knew it was not that simple, and so did Jisung, but he had no better explanation than this. He was adamant on knowing who these wonderful men were and if he could help them in any way.

Although Jisung knew the suburbs inside out, Felix was attuned to the city circles. Working at NOKC had earned him the luxury of living in the inner city and getting to know the crowds associated with the rich businesses. Jisung knew the slums, but Felix knew the people in power. That life was left behind, but that didn't automatically mean he couldn't reach back into it for his own reasons.

If he could utilise his knowledge and help this mysterious gang who were against NOKC, then he would do anything in his power to do that. He knew the politicians they wanted dead, he knew the other people behind the scenes of the operation. He could be of such good use.

Jisung chuckled at the reply, bringing a hand up to clap Felix on the shoulder.

"Okay then, whatever you say, man. They're know as SKZ. I could get a meeting set up for you if you were that desperate to thank them," he offered graciously. "But I can't guarantee that it was actually them who did it. I haven't heard word about it from anyone but you yet, so I got no more information."

"You'd set up a meeting with them for me?" Felix checked, hopeful.

"Yeah, it's no problem. Just give me a day or so and I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, Jisung. So much."

Jisung's grin was god-given. He was a truly angelic human being in this world full of wickedness and treachery. Unable to help himself, Felix pulled his friend into a hug.

-

As a kid, breaking the law was an innocent misunderstanding. Picking out a piece of fruit as Felix passed by a stall at the market was just a cute little accident. It had even happened once, and the stall owner had happily laughed it off, reminding him to pay next time. Even in the current social state, there was a soft spot in people's heart for blameless childishness. Children were one of the limited aspects of society that prevented all individuals from turning to a life of wretchedness.

These days, because Felix was a grown adult, snatching up an orange for breakfast had more serious consequences. Repercussions generally consisted of a very angry shop owner cursing at him or even going so far as to chase after him when he made a run for it. So, it wasn't abnormal for Felix to be seen sprinting down a road like he was now, holding a bag of entirely stolen food items. As usual, too, with a shopkeeper hot on his tail.

Fortunately, this wasn't his first rodeo. He possessed knowledge of the suburb's layout and used this in his favour. He knew which side streets to duck down, which heavy crowds to weave through. If he led the determined man far enough away from his store, then there was also a chance he would give up on the hunt and turn back around.

Felix's wishes were stamped out abruptly as he began to realise just how fervid the employee was in his pursuit. Things started looking down when they were getting further and further from the markets and dangerously close to the cleaner neighbourhoods. The place where police roamed as they pleased, unafraid of the crime that crawled freely in the streets of the slums. The smoke-tangled bustle of the markets dissipated when Felix turned a wrong corner accidentally. He'd been distracted by the worry that the authorities could be loitering around.

They were rapidly closing in on the residential side of the outer city, and Felix was beginning to feel his nerves rise. These areas were less familiar to him, having spent barely any time scoping them out. His knowledge laid more comfortably in the commercial spaces of the town and its surrounding abandoned residences. The only sign that he might be getting out of this unscathed was the increasing distance between himself and the shopkeeper. His practice from prior escapades meant he had great stamina, which was undoubtedly an advantage.

Finally, like a wish to his prayers, Felix made a sudden dip down a cut-through, causing the stranger to lose complete sight of him. Felix used this time to clamber atop a dumpster and climb over a fence, bringing his groceries with him. He jumped down on the other side, not making a peep. He squatted behind the cover of the fence, facing the wavy metal sheet. He listened out for the sound of the angered shopkeeper's footsteps. The dull pitter-patter of sneakers against concrete could be heard. They passed by the cut-through without hindrance, indicating that, at last, Felix was free.

He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, turning around, and falling back against the fence. His eyes took in the environment around him. He'd dropped straight into a stranger's backyard, an obviously quite messy one at that. Piles of small old bikes and play equipment were scattered around the place, and a swing set was propped up close to the back door. Children must live here, Felix decided. He took a moment, contemplating whether to leave something for them or not. Just because this house was located in the better part of the suburbs didn't mean the family was well-off. With kids to raise in this world, Felix understood it was hard living anywhere unless you were rich.

He opened up his bag, scavenging for the box of gummy sweets he'd stolen as a treat for himself. Pulling it out, Felix stood up from the ground. Quietly, he went up to the back door and set the bright purple box down, retreating before anybody could catch him. He understood better than most the feeling of missing out as a kid because of a bad financial situation. His older sister had been the only provider for the two of them, hanging out at her friend's houses or abandoned ones majority of the time.

Felix remembered the first instance Ana had brought home a small bag of chocolates for them to share. He'd been six at the time. The reaction Felix had after trying chocolate for the first time ever led to him getting a new confection every birthday. Once a year, he was allowed to gorge on a bag of jellybeans or pocky sticks. He fell in love with sugar at a young age and he wasn't about to let any other children suffer from never tasting the goodness of a treat. He hoped those kids enjoyed the box of sweets he left.

He threw his shopping back over the fence, letting it land on top of the dumpster in the cut-through. Shortly, he followed after it. It was as he landed on the hard concrete again that his flip phone began to ring. The shopkeeper might be just around the corner, Felix knew, so he answered the call with haste.

"What do you want?"

"That's no way to speak to your best friend," Jisung scolded lightly.

"Sorry, I'm just kind of in the middle of something," Felix explained, lowering his voice. He moved to crouch in between two dumpsters, concealing himself again. "I have time to talk, though."

"Do you want to try that again?"

"Hello, Jisung. How are you today? Good? That's fantastic," he mocked, sarcasm laced in his tone. "Now what the fuck do you want from me?"

Jisung huffed at the short response but continued on anyway. There was business to discuss.

"I have a meeting set up for you with SKZ. It's at 6 o'clock tonight, Blind Spot. Believe me when I tell you that they were confused when I said you wanted to thank them," Jisung informed.

Felix perked up at the news, delighted by it. He'd been waiting impatiently for this call for two days now. That night still played through in his head before he went to sleep, repeating over and over like a broken video player.

"So, it was them that did it? They were actually the ones who killed Chu Dohyon?" He ascertained.

"Yes, it was. I confirmed it with them. You'll get to meet the two guys."

Felix felt his stomach flutter at the thought. He understood that, morally, it was wrong to feel elated to meet a pair of murderers. But he also understood that his morals laid in a very grey area. This was nothing compared to other things he'd done before.

"You don't know how excited I am to meet them, Jisung. Thank you so much; you're the bestest friend in the whole wide world," Felix commended playfully, his grin evident in his voice.

"No need to flatter me. Also, 'bestest' isn't a word," Jisung remarked. Felix could see the eye roll from here.

"It is now. So, 6 o'clock, you said? I'll be there."

—

Tendrils of the heavy air wrapped around Felix's head as he stepped into Blind Spot, inhaling a lungful of smoke. He managed to stifle a cough, holding his breath to give himself a moment to get used to the smokiness again. His eyes searched the expanse of the room, noticing that it was far quieter at this time of the evening. Visitors sat in small groups, a few people sitting alone with a drink in front of them. They were spread out evenly, taking up only a couple booths and tables. Not even Jisung sat on the bar stools, the seats being completely void of anybody. It was rare to see Blind Spot in such a bare state.

Felix spotted two men sitting side-by-side in a corner booth, far away from the entrance. He knew these were the individuals he was here to see. They weren't exactly dressed for a place like this, their clothing strangely formal. One of them twirled a glass of something deep red in between his fingers, eyeing the liquid as it sloshed about gracefully. His face had a familiarity to it, resting in a nonchalant manner. Felix could envision a baseball bat slotted in between his hands, remembering the harsh way it'd hammered into Chu Dohyon's face.

The other gentleman was saying something, unable to be heard from this distance. His face was less familiar, but Felix knew why that was; he hadn't seen the man's face the other night. His broad shoulders stood out among the common man; muscles evident even under the cloak of a blazer. They seemed relatively unassuming, keeping to themselves like the other customers were. The fear that the wrong person would hear the wrong thing was ever present, hence their voices were hushed. They were lounging on the booth seats, relaxing against the tabletop as much as a person could in here.

There was a low tune thrumming in the background, adding to the atmosphere. A tense ambiance was created with the knowledge that Felix was about to meet the very men he'd been admiring. Although, there was still a hint of thrilling anticipation pulsing through him. Felix approached them. He invited himself into the booth, taking a seat across from them. His foot tapped gently, nervously. He pursed his lips, holding back his excitement.

The unrecognised man paused in the middle of what he was saying, curiosity obvious when he looked over at Felix. They both settled their intense gazes on him, prompting his prior confidence to waver. For an awkward moment, no one said anything.

"I'm Jisung's friend," Felix broke.

The strangers shared a brief look, as if confirming something with the other. Felix knew what they were thinking: this was the guy, right? The one they were supposed to be having a conversation with.

"How did you know we were the ones you were meeting with?" The unfamiliar of the two questioned. His face held an unsmiling expression, an obvious poker face.

Felix knew people, and that meant he also knew this was probably not the expression the man usually held. The frown seemed uncomfortable on his lips, restless in its still position. He was the type of person to grin or show a warm smile, not present a steely face in order to intimidate strangers. Perhaps he wasn't normally outside talking to people, going to meetings.

"I recognised you," Felix answered simply. Stupid he might’ve been for admitting to that, but his happiness was flaring up again. He could barely contain himself, nearly cracking a smile as he reminisced that fateful eve. "I saw you a couple nights ago."

The other man was more settled in his seriousness, a specific glint in his eye that was purposely built to daunt. Interactions were his forte, it appeared. Felix could read the pair like an open book, but that didn't stop him from feeling the pressure of their gazes as they scrutinised him, too.

"Jisung told us you wanted to say thank you," the man with the wine recalled. His eyes were sharp, staring Felix down with a heat that was hard to explain. "Why is that?"

Felix thought it over once more, internally practising what he had rehearsed over the last few days. It was important to deliver this adequately, so that he'd be taken seriously and not seen as a fool. Wanting to meet with two killers was not what the average person would call smart. He felt like he needed to prove that he was worth their time.

"I'm grateful that you have done the public a service," he began, "because people like Chu deserve to die. So many people do violent things for the fun of it. But using violence to rid the world of corrupt people is an honourable thing, I think. So, that's why I wanted to thank you."

Surprise seemed to silence the pair of men. They had gone statue-like, likely stunned by not only the wild gratitude, but also the bluntness that Felix gave them. He was stating the truth and there was nothing else to it. It was honestly bewildering.

"You know, you sound crazy," the man with the drink commented.

"I know." Felix shrugged. He could sound as crazy to them as he wanted, as long as he got his point across.

A wide smirk spread across the other's lips, slightly unnerving under the vibrant pink lights of the tavern. All sternness was wiped from his face at once, mirth replacing it in a smooth transition. "I like your enthusiasm. I'm Hyunjin."

Hyunjin, the man with the baseball bat. A man who was possibly crazed and deranged, but one Felix was willing to bet on would take him seriously. He held his palm out for Felix to take in his own. They shook hands, a mutual display of respect.

"Changbin," the other man introduced coolly. He made no effort to shake hands with Felix, instead choosing to cross his arms. His muscles flexed as they folded over his chest. Felix was truthfully impressed with Changbin's build, a ball of jealousy hitting him in the gut.

"I'm Felix, it's good to meet you two." When Felix retracted his hand from Hyunjin, he considered his next words carefully, too. He made sure not to hesitate, for fear he would come off as meek or lesser than. "There is something else I wanted to talk about. I haven't mentioned it to Jisung yet."

Hyunjin tilted his head, asking, "What is it?"

"I want to help you. Not just you guys, but the organisation you work for. I have connections to some highly regarded, well-known people. Politicians, researchers, NOKC employees; and not just the ones at the bottom of the ladder, I know the higher-ups, too," he spelled out. He was taking a shot in the dark by offering up his knowledge. It was dangerous even alluding to being connected to NOKC, let alone speaking openly about it. Felix understood that he couldn't disclose the real reason he had all this information.

If discussing the topic of NOKC wasn't already risky, then telling them that he used to work for the company would easily land him in a very sticky situation. Working for NOKC was something reserved for inner city people, and they were forbidden from coming here. Felix was not from the inner city, either, but there would be no way to prove that if Hyunjin and Changbin knew he was an ex-employee of Next of Kin Co.

Hyunjin turned to his partner again, waiting for him to reply, it seemed. He took a smooth skull of his wine, leaving it up to the Changbin to accept or deny the proposal. There was a break in the discussion, wherein Felix could feel his nerves fraying. He wondered if this was an idiotic idea.

"NOKC employees, you say?" Changbin repeated. He looked like he was considering the offer. "How does someone like you get into contact with people working under NOKC?"

Someone like me, Felix thought, a poor lowlife. How did he know well-off individuals if he was a local to the slums? It was difficult to picture him in a suit, standing alongside some of the most despicable humans on the planet. He could hardly imagine it himself and yet it was a reality for him at some point.

"You don't need to know how I know them. Just understand that I can get you places that even Han Jisung can't reach: inner-city people," he enticed. He leaned forward, palms flat against the table. The surface was sticky with the humidity in here, but he paid no mind to it. He stared right back at the pair of gang members, eyes unwavering as he offered up his service. "I hate NOKC as much as the next person and want anyone involved with them out of here. I don't care where they go, I just want them gone. If you're willing to take the gamble, we can make that happen."

Changbin hummed, clear thoughtfulness showing in the way he slowly nodded his head. He was really contemplating this. Felix felt the anticipation rise in him; muscles tensed in the expectation of an answer. Hyunjin set down his glass, the bottom of it barely making a noise when it was placed back on the table. It felt like he was waiting for a response as well, keen eyes sticking to Changbin. Felix presumed, then, that Changbin was in a position where he was to be respected.

The manner in which Hyunjin stood back and paused, allowing his partner to lead the conversation spoke a million words. It told Felix that, although Changbin probably didn't go out to talk to other people in meetings, he certainly helped make decisions within SKZ. Maybe he set the time and place of the meetings, maybe he was normally finding the people for Hyunjin to meet with. There was no guarantee as to what either man did on a daily basis, but their dynamic was apparent.

"Give us a couple days," Changbin finally returned. "I like what you're saying, but I need to check it over with some people first. If we need any more from you, we'll get into contact with Jisung."

Check it over with some people, he'd said. So, Felix considered, Changbin is not at the top of the food chain. That made sense when you took into account the dirty work he'd done the other night. Felix knew many leaders of syndicates across the country preferred to keep their hands soft and untainted. Felix felt his entire body release the tension it had been building up through the entire meeting. He let a smile slip at last, nodding his head. This was good; a very good coincidence that he'd seen these two kill someone outside his living room window. This was his chance at vengeance, his chance at taking down NOKC once and for all. Yes, this was very good indeed.

-

The type of phone Felix owned was one of the less common kinds, one of the cheaper ones so it was unlikely to be stolen; although, stealing was how he acquired it in the first place. It was matte black in colour, slim and with soft edges, unimpressive in its looks. He knew it was better if it didn't stand out. He'd seen the pale yellow and red ones that were popular in the city, the baby blue flip phones that had grown common among actors and billionaires. They all had sharp sides, were bigger, better. These ones usually had cameras in them and had attributes that were normal in the 2020's. Games, social media, search engines, wireless connection, the gallery feature. The more colourful and customised the item, the likelier it was to belong to someone rich — the more likely it was to be eyed down and snatched.

He was not a stupid man. He'd chosen this make and model on purpose. All a phone was good for nowadays was communication, and even then they were dodgy things. Privacy regulations were skewed, and any old tech company could produce something to track you. Companies could keep names, phone numbers, addresses, likes, dislikes, frequent shopping spots, anything documented. It was all permitted. To combat this obvious problem, Felix had chosen this simpler phone with few features and far less capability to track his whereabouts and conversations. This device became very handy when he began a life of crime.

It was shocking, really, that after all these years his phone was still kicking. Even as it sang out now, vibrating to alert him someone was contacting him, it wasn't giving up.

He rubbed the drowsiness from his eyes with one hand, reaching the other underneath his pillow. The vibrations were stronger when he grabbed his phone, pulling it out from where he kept it. He took a look at the screen, vision blurry with exhaustion, noting that it was hardly 6 o'clock in the morning. It was really cruel of the caller to have woken him at this ungodly hour. His cracked screen displayed an unknown number, one that hadn't been saved in his contact list. This was normal, he refused to save numbers in his phone. He recognised the important numbers, his sister's and Jisung's to name them. He didn't need others knowing who he was speaking with. But this caller was not one he knew to be Jisung, nor Ana. Just a random number. He answered it, nonetheless.

"What do you want?" He murmured into the speaker. His voice was croaky after not yet having used it this morning. There was no bite in his words, but he was not pleased that his sleep had been disrupted.

"Who am I speaking with?" The anonymous caller inquired, sounding more awake than ever.

You called me, you should know this, Felix thought bitterly.

"Felix."

"Good. It's Changbin. I got your number from Jisung, I hope you don't mind." It didn't feel like Felix had much choice in the matter, but he hummed anyway. He did not mind if it was Changbin getting his phone number. "I've reached an agreement with my boss, and we want to make a proposal. Are you still interested in helping?"

Felix sat up in his bed now, more alert than before. His bedroom was nothing special. It consisted of a mattress that he'd managed to squeeze out of the front door of another unit mad into his own, laid flat on the wooden floor. He'd collected many blankets and pillows from various places nearby, too. A fan for when it got too hot was standing in one corner of the room, dusty because it was still cool at the moment. To run it, among other appliances, he'd needed to steal electricity from neighbouring houses. It was a fiddly task in the beginning, but he'd learnt the proper ways by now. Beside his bed was a space heater, powered by the expertly thieved electricity.

His curtains were drawn, like they always were. He never left them open for too long, for fear of someone finding his hideout. He had a baseball bat of his own, but with nails hammered into the thicker end of it for extra damage. That laid in the narrow space between his mattress and the wall, in case of emergency. He'd only added that to his room after a homeless guy with a knife had tried to break in one night. Felix was not proud of that night. He'd heard tales of the violence that devastated the suburbs, witnessed it first-hand, but it wasn't until then that he'd been on the giving end of it.

He swallowed thickly at the memory, shaking it out of his head. He needed to stay on topic.

"Yes, I want to help. What do you need?"

"Don't get too excited, this is just a test of your knowledge. I wanted to pick your brain a little first," Changbin explained. "I request a list of as many corrupt auditors that you know, along with their phone numbers. Any dirty ones, but with respectable reputations."

"Auditors... Did you need them for anything in particular, or just as many as possible?" Felix clarified, a few names already whizzing through his head.

He got up from the warmth of his bed, walking into the living-dining area. His feet halted next to the kitchen bench, slotting himself into the corner. He ducked his head under the cabinets, fingers picking at a specific tile in the back splash. He held the phone between his shoulder and ear, still keenly listening while he multitasked.

"As many as you can. For now, we just need a list," Changbin replied, his tone nothing below professional.

"I can do that," Felix promised.

The tile he picked at came loose, leaving an opening for the small hole Felix had dug into the wall years ago. Inside was a single, small notebook, no bigger than his hand. He plucked it out and set it down on the bench top. He began to flick through the many pages, reading over the information he'd written down over a period of time. Names, ages, jobs, family information. All details specifically on the many people working under or with NOKC.

"I'll need it within the next 24 hours."

"I can do it in the next five minutes," Felix overtook, desperate to show he really did want to do his best in helping. It would be no effort to compile a list of names if that was all SKZ wanted from him.

"Really?" Changbin's seriousness broke a little, genuine surprised shining through for a moment. "Well, if that's possible, that would be better."

"Do you need a physical list at all?" Felix was already copying over names of auditors onto a fresh sheet of paper, with the full knowledge that it would probably be burned at some point. He still made an effort to have neat handwriting, something Ana had taught him was important in life.

"Yes, we'll be sending someone to you to collect it. Five minutes you said?"

"Yeah."

"I'll just need your address and someone will be over in ten."

Ten minutes. He needed to get this finished and have his notebook hidden away again within ten minutes. Those were numbers he didn't appreciate working with. He especially didn't like the idea of somebody knowing where he lived.

"You didn't want to meet up at Blind Spot again?" He suggested, feeling it made more sense than gathering at his place.

"No, it's too public."

"This feels like a set-up, you know? I want to help, but this is a little invasive, meeting at mine. Is there anywhere else I can meet with your henchman?" He requested, annoyance seeping into his voice on accident.

"Felix," Changbin said bluntly, "you giving me your address is a formality. I know your location, I'm not dumb."

Felix felt his heart sink, fingers tensing around the pen he'd picked up. He dropped the pen after a second, holding his phone again, and peering out the boarded window in the lounge room. There was no clear movement outside. He prayed nobody had seen him take out his notebook.

"Even if this is a trial run of your capabilities, it's being taken seriously. We needed to ensure you weren't working with NOKC," Changbin continued, matter-of-factly. "It seems you're not, but still. So, am I okay to send somebody to meet with you now? It's been about five minutes."

"Uh," Felix stammered, suddenly uncertain about many things. He finished writing one last phone number down before promptly shoving the book back into its hole and sealing it again with the tile. He read over the list he'd made once more, concluding this would do well for he'd been asked to do. "Yeah, I'll just come outside now."

He waited until Changbin hung up the phone before sliding it into the pocket of his pyjamas. It was a little humiliating to be going out in this state, with his hair still messy and his old sleeping clothes hanging loosely off his frame. He felt vulnerable like this, less confident than when he'd been dressed up to go to Blind Spot. The sudden weight of the situation fell on his shoulders. He was being watched. People knew where he lived and eventually, they would know where he frequented, too. People could find out about the information galore behind the small tile in his kitchen. It was quite a terrifying realisation to make. He was riding on the fact he had that notebook, so he really couldn't have others knowing about it.

He gathered his courage, hurriedly sliding on his scuffed running shoes over the socks he was wearing. Taking the small sheet of paper with him, Felix warily went over to his front door and unlocked it. He stepped out just as an unfamiliar man was turning the corner into the unit complex. The three sides of the complex that encompassed a parking lot created a cold shade, covering both the stranger and Felix. The unnamed man was dressed for the early morning weather, wrapped in a thick, dark grey jacket and slacks. His shoes sounded heavy against the road of the car park, moving swiftly as he got nearer to Felix's abode.

"Felix?" He asked, voice crisp in contrast with the silent morning. Felix nodded in return.

When the other got close enough, Felix held out the paper, unsure in his movements. The man stood an appropriate distance away, taking the sheet from Felix's hand. He appeared to skim over the contents written on it, facial expression flat. Felix could tell that this was just his usual expression. He wore it comfortably, albeit a tad bit stern. Although the man's features were quite soft, the mask he pulled over his face seemed to fit it perfectly. He was sent for intimidating purposes, an air about him that told Felix he shouldn't step out of line. Felix had been relatively comfortable around Changbin and Hyunjin, but this guy was different.

The stranger's eyebrows furrowed deeply, opposing his prior uncaring look.

"How the fuck do you know Ha Yeongsik's phone number?" He interrogated. His eyes flicked to zero in on Felix's abruptly diffident face.

Ha Yeongsik was even more surprising to be in contact with than knowing Chu Dohyon. Yeongsik was an auditor who was known for working directly with NOKC's CEO, all under the table, of course. Felix had met him in-person, sat in on meetings with him, shared a conversation over a coffee once. He was one heck of a condescending human being. If they were planning on killing him like they had Chu, he wouldn't be disappointed.

Working so closely with the CEO, herself, had landed Felix the knowledge of Yeongsik's phone number. Originally, it was for business affairs, but he used it for personal reasons these days. Like right now, as he handed over the discrete piece of paper; this was entirely for his own benefit.

"I told Changbin and Hyunjin already: you don't need to know how I know these people. I just do." He knew it sounded awfully cryptic the way he was beating around the bush. No way in Hell was he disclosing his previous employment.

"Sure, I trust that completely," the man spoke sardonically. It was evident he didn't actually trust Felix's word. "This is all I needed. I assume we'll be in contact again soon. Pleasure doing business." The discussion was short, almost feeling cut off early by the unnerving tension.

Felix didn't mind. He was actually thankful he didn't have to interact with this stranger any longer. Compared to Changbin and Hyunjin, this guy was clearly not a conversationalist, nor the friendly type. The interaction was brief, talking over and done with the second Felix had handed over the list. He was left blinking, watching the stranger leave. He scratched his head, turning to go back inside where it was warmer.

Well, that was fucking strange.

-

Mail was becoming a thing of the past. It was a fact, Felix knew this. He'd never received or sent a physical letter in his life, and honestly never thought either of those things would happen. Until today, that is, because he discovered an envelope by his front door. It had been slipped underneath, sent only a small distance into his home. He bent down to pick it up, taking note of its bulkiness. He had an inkling of who might have sent it. The hair on his arms stood on end, but not from the temperature this time.

He was being watched as he grabbed the letter off the floor, he knew. Whether there was somebody behind his unit, in the alley where Chu Dohyon was killed, or peering at curtained windows, he could feel their presence. They were keeping an eye on him.

He sat on the wooden ground, leaning against the front door. His fingers carefully tore open the flap of the envelope, trying his best not to rip the note inside. Once it was opened, Felix pulled out its contents, a neatly folded sheet of paper and a wad of cash. He stared at the money for a moment, wide-eyed when he realised he was holding at least one and a half million won. This was a lot of money for him. He'd never imagined he would be holding this much at once. He then unfolded the letter, not bothering to smooth out the creases. He was nearly shaking with anticipation, feverishly reading over what was written on there.

Felix,
Your contribution to us is greatly appreciated. Someone will shortly be in contact with you again for any future duties we require from you.
For now, enjoy this compensation for your knowledge.

Felix had his mouth hanging open, dumbfounded by the message. This was all his? All this money was his to spend. This was an asset he never thought he'd have again after he was fired from NOKC. He truly believed that after his reputation in the inner-city circles, he'd never have a job again. Things seemed to be looking up for him now though, with cash in his palm.

He shoved the money back into the envelope, afraid someone might see it if it was out in the air for too long. He scurried to his bedroom and retrieved his phone. Immediately, he dialled Jisung's number, knowing it off by heart. Now would be a great time to catch up with an old mate.

"Hey, Felix," Jisung answered after barely a single ring, sounding happy to be hearing from his friend. He was about to be a much happier man after Felix told him about this.

"You want to meet at Blind Spot? All drinks on me."

-

Since two weeks ago, when Felix had been unofficially recruited by SKZ, he had been in frequent contact with a few members of the gang. It was common for him to meet up with Changbin or call him over the phone He was starting to learn a lot about the group, even in such a short amount of time. Changbin, Felix presumed correctly, was not the head of SKZ, instead working alongside the leader. He was often relaying messages back and forth for the person who was actually in charge, keeping things beyond the gang in check. This included watching over Felix and his doings, making sure the information he was providing for them was up to standard. Changbin had proven to be professional, but overall a well-mannered individual. He worked well as the carrier pigeon between Felix and the anonymous boss, keeping operations running like a well-oiled machine.

Though he was generally adept when it came to staying on topic during discussions, Felix had quickly learned that sometimes, rarely, Changbin let his true personality slip through. Like a peek of sunshine through a drawn curtain. Just yesterday, he'd made a joke that Felix was like a walking, talking document, with a brain full of secretive information. Felix, personally, wouldn't have called himself a humanised version of a document, but Changbin had sounded content with the comparison. The remark had thrown Felix off a little, only knowing the other man to be straightforward. It was nice, though, to be speaking on the phone with a human being and not the robotic person Changbin sometimes came off as.

He was supposed to be gathering with him in person today. The entire purpose was to hand off a couple addresses of people who used to work for NOKC. It felt like a weird sort of betrayal to be sending off information about others like himself, who had likely escaped the grasp of NOKC while they had the chance.

He wasn't told why SKZ needed the addresses, and he truthfully didn't think he'd be getting informed. SKZ had offered him an off the record job working with them, but that didn't entail immediate trust in him. It was fair, he supposed, because if they knew about his past, then they'd probably stop communicating with him altogether. Or worse.

Changbin would be around at his place in about an hour, leaving Felix plenty of time to have a quick lunch before he showed face. He opted to walk over to the convenience store that was a couple streets from here. He was dressed already, only needing to slide his shoes on before he left the unit. He milled over this new life he was living. It wasn't stable, not any more than his day-to-day had been before watching a man die. At least this way he had some form of income. He'd been stealing less recently, purely because he actually had cash to pay for things.

Cash; he almost laughed at the thought that the news had been saying for years now that it was going out of fashion. People relied too heavily on physical money for it to just disappear and be replaced by cards. At the moment, he didn't mind going with the flow. He moved with the motions of every day, not expecting much, yet very at peace with it all. Working with a gang was not out of question for him, it never had been, but it was still strange that he'd ended up here anyway.

The weirdest thing — person, really — had not been Changbin in this situation. It wasn't Hyunjin, either, who Felix hadn't seen since that day at Blind Spot. It was the man who had initially come to him to collect information on those auditors. The man's name was still unknown to Felix. Between no one thinking to tell him and him being unsure if he should ask, the mysterious man was an anomaly. Felix had been in touch with him twice altogether, excluding that first meet.

When Changbin was busy with other things, he supposed the enigmatic man was next on the ladder. He was much shorter with his words than Changbin was, always exuding a presence that was harder to read.

Felix discovered himself outside the convenience store much quicker than anticipated, finding he'd gotten caught in his head along the way. He made his way into the shop, feeling himself relax as the warmth inside hit him. He picked a takeaway bowl of ramen off one of the shelves. On his way to the front counter, his sight snagged on a small, pink tube stacked on a shelf. It was bubble gum. He fucking loved bubble gum. Sweet, gooey goodness. He gave into temptation and took two of them, paying for both the gum and ramen at the counter. It still felt surreal to be handing over money in exchange for something.

Then, Felix made the short journey home again. He stuck a piece of chewy in his mouth, unable to resist — or, at least, unwilling to stop himself. He smiled at the deliciousness, revelling in how great such a simple thing could be.

He strolled into the open space of the complex parking lot, slowing in his movements when he noticed, from a distance, his unit door slightly ajar. His approach was steady, silent in his footsteps. He remembered locking his door, so someone had definitely kicked it in or lock-picked. His first thought was that another squatter had broken in, searching for a place to stay or some food. However, his second thought was that Changbin had let himself inside.

He'd never communicated that he wanted to go into Felix's place, never brought it up for any reason either. It also hadn't been an hour yet, when Changbin was meant to be here, so Felix's hopes weren't high that it was him. If it really was a squatter, they would have complete access to Felix's money, appliances, food, weapons. If it was a squatter, Felix didn't have a house anymore.

He was extremely cautious when he arrived at the entrance, sneaking a look through the narrow crack of the open door. There wasn't a peep from inside, no feet shuffling or packets rustling. He held his breath, contemplating whether or not he should set down his food and try to fight for his land.

"You can come in, Felix. It's your house," a voice spoke from inside, causing Felix to relax.

He recognised that voice. Softly, he pushed his door open further, spotting Changbin sitting on his couch by the boarded window. He was positioned in the exact place Felix was when he'd witnessed Chu Dohyon's murder. His mouth went a little dryer. His shoulders fell, releasing the tension in them when he realised he was somewhat safe. It was a relief that he wouldn't be searching for a new home anytime soon.

"I thought you were a stranger," Felix commented. He went over to the bench and set his ramen and bubble gum down, feeling like making himself food without offering some would be rude. He decided to leave it for now, knowing this would be over quickly.

"I was told to scope out the area, I hope you don't mind." Changbin smiled at him, not a full grin, but it seemed apologetic enough. He obviously didn't want to break in. "I did happen to notice, though, that your window—" he pointed to the wooden slats nailed over the broken window "—has a lovely view. I've been wondering how you saw Hyunjin and I."

"Yeah, crazy coincidence. It's a good thing I'm the only one living in this area," Felix said, silently telling Changbin that this secret was safe between them. Nobody else knew. Nobody else needed to know.

"Anyway, what have you got for me?" Changbin inquired, getting to his feet. He crossed the small living space into the kitchen, hands sliding into his pockets.

"Right, the addresses," Felix muttered. He pulled open a kitchen drawer, the one that held miscellaneous items, and took out another notebook he had, and a pen. This notebook was empty, so he only had to flip to the first page to write.

He jotted down the names and their matching addresses that he'd memorised earlier. He was avoiding taking out the hidden notebook, afraid of others finding out about it. This resulted in him knowing most of the notebook's information by heart at this point. He was starting to think he should burn the book and just keep the knowledge in his head instead. For safe-keeping. Once he'd finished writing, Felix handed the paper over to Changbin. Changbin took a moment to read over the list, as he usually did, though it was shorter this time. Maybe he was starting to get used to Felix's information being reliable.

"This seems all good to me," Changbin asserted with a definitive nod. He folded and stuffed the page in his pocket.

"Is there anything else?" Felix asked. He was getting rather hungry right about now and wanted this meeting over with as soon as possible. His stomach nearly gave him away, stirring a little.

"Actually, there is," Changbin told. "That baseball bat you have won't do you any good in long range distances. Also, you don't do any physical training, so it also won't do well in short ranges either. This house of yours has no... security. That's a problem when we take into account that you've been a valuable asset to SKZ."

Felix furrowed his brows, curious to see where Changbin was going with this determined (albeit insulting) spiel. He chewed his gum slowly, hoping it would appease his body as food for the moment.

"Okay?"

"I'm going to talk with my boss about moving you into a more secure living situation. You'll be able to bring your clothes and stuff, but we'll provide a bed, soap, shower, the lot," Changbin explained. "And, by doing this, it'll be fixing you in place for a full-time position with SKZ. If that's something you wanted, I can get that done. All you need to do is meet with the boss."

Felix felt his jaw threatening to drop in disbelief. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Surely there was a drawback, though; something Felix would need to do beyond providing information and meeting with the leader.

"What's the catch?" He questioned with a habitual tilt of his head.

Nothing had been given to him without a hurdle being in the way. He had to run from shop owners for food, had to leave a stable job and income for the sake of his own morals. Anything good was something too good to be true.

"There's no catch. That's the whole situation," Changbin returned easily, shrugging like it really was that simple.

"No hazing, nothing I have to do to prove myself? Nothing at all?"

"Nope," he reaffirmed. "Just meet with the big boss and he'll tell you whether you're permitted to stay on SKZ territory and be catered for — so to speak. If he says yes, you can stay, and you'll be sleeping under the roof of the Levanter Hostel."

"The Levanter Hostel?" Felix nearly shouted it. He was shellshocked. None of this could be real; this was a joke and he was the punchline. "Sorry, but are you fucking crazy? You can't be serious, that place is for, like, significant gangsters. Important ones. I couldn't live there."

And it was all true, what Felix was saying. He was a lowly criminal, similarly to majority of the population. He was average at best. The Levanter Hostel was for the powerful and well-connected outlaws, not someone like himself. Even Changbin had been one to say How does someone like you get into contact with people working under NOKC?

Someone like him didn't belong in a place like Levanter Hostel. He didn't deserve to be up there with respectable gangsters like Changbin.

"You absolutely could," Changbin defended. He had a smile that told Felix he was confident in his words, believed himself. How could Felix tell him that he really shouldn't be moving into the heart of an operation like SKZ.

"Sure. You talk with the boss first and then tell me what his laugh sounds like." It was awfully sarcastic, bordering on disrespectful.

But Changbin was the one laughing. His personality was bright as it shone through, a warm hand landing on Felix's shoulder to steady himself. It was probably the most genuine chuckle Felix had heard, besides Jisung's of course. Ana had never been one for laughing, but it seemed Changbin was the type.

"Felix, you are one funny guy," Changbin managed to say through cackles. He clapped his hand on Felix's shoulder once before removing it. He made a move toward the front door. "I'll call you when I've organised the meeting. Bye for now!"

And then he was gone. Just like that, Felix had been presented the perfect gift, wrapped in a little bow and all. A new life. A chance. He was left standing with his mouth halfway open, his gum forgotten.

Changbin was joking, right?

-

"You!"

The voice that shrieked the word was hauntingly familiar to Felix. A shiver ran through his body as he whipped his head around. He was lounging on a stool by the bar of Blind Spot, Jisung beside him. It was a normal sight to see, the two of them sharing a joke and having a drink. Patrons were mingling together on the busy Friday night, the usual hushed tones a little amped up by the fun air of the pub. Smoky and fruity and fishy as it was on an average day, but there was always something better about being here on a Friday. A good ambiance all around.

Until that grating, irate voice cut through the nice vibrations of the poppy music. Felix had turned his head around to see the fuming man charging towards him from the entrance. His legs were ready to sprint away, but he was caught between the recognisable man and the doorway.

Fuck.

"Lee Yongbok, I know it was you!" The man's unfiltered rage was discernible.

Felix gulped, clutching his beer as he was boxed in by the man. He hadn't heard his government name since he worked for NOKC, which was chilling in itself. However, it was more frightening coming from Ha Yeongsik of all people.

"Yeongsik," he said, trying to appease the other with an overly friendly tone. "It's been a while, how have you been lately?"

Ha Yeongsik was an inner-city person, anybody in here would be able to tell. His clothes were neatly pressed, lathered in vibrant colours. He stood out as a stark contrast to the other people in Blind Spot, a sore thumb on a hand of working fingers. Inner-city people were not allowed in here. Felix wondered if this might be the one time one of them was kicked out too late. Maybe he would be dead before Yeongsik was handled?

"Don't you dare," Yeongsik seethed, voice icy cold. "You gave away my phone number and now the authorities are on my ass about being involved in something illegal. I know it was you!"

Felix's eyebrows knitted together.

"But aren't you involved in something illegal...?"

Yeongsik grasped the front of his shirt, tugging it forcefully. Felix was stone still as it happened. The disturbance was starting to reach further than just Felix and Yeongsik, some customers turning around to yell at the inner-city person to get the fuck out of here.

"Shut up! You're the only one with my number who wants to ruin my reputation. I know you did it!"

"Hey! Get your hands off him!" Jisung finally piped up. It was Han Jisung defending Felix now, the Han Jisung that everybody around the area knew of and liked.

An uproar began to break out, a few pairs of hands suddenly grabbing at Yeongsik. Felix was subsequently pulled along with him, causing him to stumble a bit. Jisung managed to catch him just as massive fight ensued. It was a bar full of drunk low lives versus one stuck-up auditor from the city. Yeongsik didn't stand a chance. Jisung had too much power in his palm for Yeongsik to get out of this circumstance unscathed. Although he was only trying to protect Felix from the angry man, Jisung really was admired for his geniality and smarts. Of course, people would help the Han Jisung with anything, even if that meant attacking a stranger in a public space.

Felix looked over in time to observe about three separate individuals kicking Yeongsik's face in. Violence was prominent as ever as glasses flew and broke skin, as boots continually smashed Yeongsik's body until his bones collapsed in on themselves. Violence was obnoxious in Felix's ears as he listened to the shouts of psyched drunkards, and as he heard the broken wails of the bastard auditor from the inner city.

He watched on, not flinching but definitely unable to look away. It felt nostalgic, almost; reminiscent of the night Chu Dohyon was murdered. Except, it wasn't Changbin and Hyunjin beating down on the dirty rich man this time, it was a horde of people. They were trampling Ha Yeongsik for the sake of Felix. It was only when Jisung started tugging him in the direction of the door that Felix managed to tear his eyes away from the brutal scene. The two scrambled through the crowd, somehow finding their way onto the street. The air was fresh out here, a rapid switch from the stuffy, excited ambiance that was inside.

"Did he hurt you?" Jisung rushed out, checking over his friend as they landed on the footpath. "Did you get hurt at all?"

"I'm fine, I'm not hurt," Felix reassured. He did a quick scan of Jisung, too, returning the favour. They were, luckily, both okay, just a bit rattled.

"What was he talking about? Did you do something?" Jisung was asking now, pulling Felix along. They were headed further away from the rowdiness, it appeared, and in the direction of somewhere generally quieter.

"I just did something for SKZ. I didn't know what they would do with his phone number," Felix admitted, whispering just in case.

"You need to be more careful with those things," Jisung scolded, the caring person he was.

Felix only nodded. He didn't know how to tell Jisung that it was probably only going to get more dangerous from here. He was likely joining a gang, after all. They were initially at Blind Spot so Felix could tell Jisung about the possible promotion he'd be soon getting. Their conversation hadn't quite gotten to that, yet, not before it was interrupted. He decided maybe it was for the better Jisung didn't know about that right now. After the whole violent scene that had just gone down inside the bar, he was going to keep it to himself for the moment. Only until the dust settled.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWO: THE LEVANTER HOSTEL

The ropes that you climb up, the parts that won't heal

Persuasion was an easy thing for some people to achieve, and Changbin was usually one of those people. He had a way with words that seemed to make others loosen, opening their minds to see things in the way he did. Though, right now, as he sat with four other people staring at him, his confidence hindered. He had seen television shows where individuals had to sit in court and plead their case to a room full of judging watchers. He'd never been in a setting so similar to it. At one end of the table was himself, at the other end was his boss.

Chan wasn't the type to disregard his employee's requests, but he also had a habit of saying no to potentially endangering things. This was the whole reason one of the closer members of SKZ had been left out of the meeting. There was supposed to be six altogether, not just the five. The one who'd been left out had only joined officially a couple weeks ago. He was trusted enough to live with them, but not quite enough to be in on meetings yet.

Changbin needed to approach this with care. This entire get together was about Felix moving into the Levanter Hostel with them (among other trusted members). If their most recent member wasn't even allowed to be in on meetings, then he wasn't so sure of what Chan would say about this anymore.

"So," Chan began, his tone emanating seriousness. "Changbin has gathered everyone here to discuss another possible addition to SKZ. Am I correct on that?"

Changbin confirmed with a sturdy nod. He could feel Chan's presence from here, stable and executive. His stance screamed I'm in control, with his posture straight and hands clasped together on top of the table. This was a common ambiance their leader created whenever he sat in on meetings or was discussing business matters. What loomed as an even stronger existence was the four walls enclosing the sleek conference room. These walls which Chan was the sole owner of, who'd had them built and painted just two years ago. The Levanter Hostel belonged to Chan, and it was currently rather intimidating for Changbin.

If Chan decided against this, then that was final. No if's or but's, Chan always had the last say in things like this. He was in charge, after all.

"Who is it?" Minho asked, his voice telling of his scepticism. He sat to Changbin's right, next to Seungmin, who wore a silent frown.

Seungmin would be against Felix moving in, Changbin predicted. He seemed less than happy with having to speak with Felix those few times, complaining on his way out when he was sent to the slums. It was very evident that Seungmin didn't trust Felix in the slightest.

"You all have heard of Felix by now," Changbin introduced the topic of discussion. He glanced between Chan and Seungmin, trying to quell his nervousness with the tiny movement. "I say we let him move in because—"

"No," Seungmin interjected sternly. "He is not living with us."

"Seungmin," Chan warned. His gaze laid heavily into the man he was addressing, a silent order to stop talking.

"Because," Changbin kept on, thankful for Chan's intercept. "Felix has shown he's useful. He's a great asset to us now and will be an even greater one if he's officially introduced to the team. He knows his stuff and his information has proven itself to be verifiable. Not only that, but I've seen his skill in escaping a tough situation; his stamina is off the charts."

Hyunjin, in his seat to Changbin's left, stretched his arms in the air. He looked bored, like he normally did during meetings. When his arms fell back down and he crossed them over his chest, he let a smile spread over his lips.

"I think it's a good idea. I like Felix," he stated. His opinion on Felix wouldn't hold very well to Chan, only because Hyunjin had met Felix a total of one time. As well as that, Hyunjin tended to have a distorted view on what made a person likeable and what did not. His perspectives on the circumstances were valued, but Chan knew when to simply ignore them.

"Just because you like him doesn't mean he's trustworthy," Seungmin opposed.

"I agree," Minho concurred. He turned to Changbin with a questioning look. "Didn't you say Felix hasn't told anyone where he gets the addresses and stuff from?"

Changbin sighed, unable to deny that fact. It was the one aspect he knew would obstruct Felix's chances at moving in. He was hoping Felix would've told him before the conference commenced, but that was not what happened. Secretive as ever, Felix kept his mouth shut on the subject matter.

"That is true, but I was thinking he should talk to Chan first anyway. Maybe he'll be more transparent if he's given the opportunity. If not... then we can scrap the idea," Changbin proposed. He was looking over the leader now, who had remained mostly silent throughout the conversation.

The room went quiet for a moment, all of them expecting Chan to speak next. They patiently waited, observing the thoughtful expression on their boss's face. Hyunjin was restless in his chair, kicking one leg up to rest his chin on his knee. He wore a smaller smile now, anticipating a solution to this issue. Minho had his hands in his lap, eyes unwavering as he watched Chan. He was unmoving, stiff almost. Seungmin was not much different with his dead straight posture and dissatisfied frown. He was not happy that Chan hadn't immediately agreed with him, but that was no surprise to anyone in the room.

Finally, Chan's eyes shifted to settle back onto Changbin. It was a clear sign that he had come to some sort of conclusion. Changbin straightened, listening intently.

"I'm not saying yes," Chan answered, "but I'm also not saying no." Changbin felt a wave of relief wash over him. It wasn't a definite dismissal, so that was something. "It's true that Felix has shown his advantages, but I'm not exactly comfortable with not knowing his sources of information. I'll meet him and make a decision after that. Does that appease everyone?"

"Certainly does," Hyunjin beamed. It was likely he was only joyful because that meant the meeting was over. Chan turned to Seungmin next, gaze firm.

"Sure, whatever," Seungmin grumbled. He looked away from Chan, knowing he hadn't won this time around.

"Doesn't bother me, as long as it's what you think is best." Minho shrugged.

Then, Chan rested his eyes on Changbin, who was relaxing back in his chair a little. He gave a short nod.

"I'm okay with that."

"It's settled then. I'll organise a meeting between myself and Felix for next week. For now, enjoy your weekend, everyone. Changbin, stay behind for a moment."

And then they were dismissed, all filing out through the door. It left Chan and Changbin looking at each other from opposite ends of the table. It was not a particularly lengthy table, but the distance appeared longer when nobody else was sitting down with them. The door shut behind Minho, the click echoing in the spacious room. Chan eased, shoulders growing less tense now it was just the two of them together. They were friends before they were colleagues, after all. Chan was skilled at not having a strong bias in making decisions for the team, but now nobody was around, he could lay back a bit.

He released a deep breath, nearly cracking a smile as he looked at Changbin.

"Did you hear about the brawl at Blind Spot last night?" It was an easy question, but it truly felt like disguised gossip.

"No? What happened?"

"Ha Yeongsik was beaten to death by a crowd of drunks. Apparently," he emphasised, "he was threatening Felix. Jisung stepped in to defend Felix, but that led to Yeongsik getting his ass handed to him. I don't know how Yeongsik knew Felix was giving out his info, of all people in this city, but I'm worried about what it could imply." The concern was laced into his tone, a professional kind of fretting.

Changbin was nodding slowly, taking in the news.

"What do you think it could mean?" He asked.

"It could mean one of two things, I've deduced. One—" Chan lifted his index finger "—Felix somehow leaked his own involvement with us. Or two—" Chan lifted a second finger "—Ha Yeongsik came to his own conclusion that it was Felix selling him out."

Changbin thought about it for a moment. He'd personally seen Felix interact with others, share his knowledge, escape tricky affairs and weasel his way through the streets. It was easy enough to say that Felix wasn't stupid, his intelligence subtle, but evident. It would be difficult to declare he had leaked his involvement. The other side of it, though, was that Yeongsik somehow figured, on his own, that Felix was meddling with him. The implication of that was that in some manner, Yeongsik knew Felix. Either they'd met directly or indirectly. Whichever way it was, it was clear that Felix had ties back to inner-city people.

"I see. So, are you still going to meet him, or were you just saying that so everyone would stay civil?" Changbin queried, finding himself picking at the loose material on the cushioned chair.

"I'll still meet him. But I need you to understand why my end choice might not be what you asked for," Chan explained straightforwardly.

"Of course."

Changbin was beginning to regret being so confident when he offered this to Felix. It seemed Felix's loyalty was dubious when it came to SKZ, more so than Changbin had initially believed.

-

The sight of the Levanter Hostel was astounding. With its four storeys of impressive height, detailed concrete support columns and deep blue signage, Felix could only stand before it and marvel. His mouth hung open in utter awe, stunned by the truly breathtaking view. The sign spelling out the hotel name was vibrant and glowing, even beneath the overcast lighting of the day. The letters were bold, bright and an ocean colour — or, at least what the ocean uses to look like. A solid navy blue against the level concrete framing it. 'Grand' was the perfect word to describe it.

The closer he got to the protruding beams, the more he could see the intricacies that decorated them. Tiny paintings of what looked to be writing in a foreign language wrapped around the circumference of the poles. Small, black font against the grey of the concrete gave it a newspaper-like look. If Felix was more educated, he might’ve been able to identify which language it was. Had he gone to an elite university, maybe he would be able to read translate the words. He was neither book smart, nor trained for that kind of talent, so he was left only wondering what it all meant.

The hotel's presence was looming, intimidating. If Felix wasn't already sweating under the cover of his nicest clothes, he definitely was now. Reality was dawning on him that he was about to have a job interview for a gang. He ran his hands over the front of his shirt, wondering if he was presentable enough for a place like this. He certainly looked like he didn't belong in the area, being closer to the city. Maybe he should've invested in a hairbrush before coming here.

When he'd received that call just the other day, from the leader himself, it hadn't settled that he'd spoken to his potentially new boss. Felix realised only after hanging up that his way of speaking was not exactly polite. He hadn't needed to watch his words for four years, since he left NOKC. Then he'd gone and talked to the owner of the very building he was standing in front of without manners. He felt he'd already screwed himself over in this. Changbin was too forgiving of Felix's fuck ups. Even suggesting the concept of giving Felix a full-time job was more considerate than need be.

Now, Felix swallowed down any lingering apprehension and finally took the steps toward the entrance. From outside, he could see the sleek lobby inside. Blue carpet to match the hostel logo, grey walls to fit with the concrete, and a black, wooden check-in desk to pull it together. There were two security guards on either side of the doors, who ignored him as he strolled into the establishment. Felix caught a glimpse of something gleaming behind the shade of one of their blazer jackets. For a sickening moment, he wondered what kind of weapons hotel guards had on them these days. He disregarded the thought immediately.

He went up to the front desk, informing the attendee that he was here for a meeting. He was pointed in the direction of the elevator and told to go up to the second floor. When he asked for the room number, he was brushed aside. The clerk ignored his question and went back to whatever she was doing before. Felix held his head high and directed his pathing to the elevator. He figured he would find the conference room himself if the receptionist was going to be rude about it.

He landed at the second floor, stepping out onto more dark blue carpet. His tacky boots and worn denim jacket felt so out of place in comparison to the plush ground and luxurious wallpaper. His pushed back his ruffled hair to smooth it out, hoping it wouldn't look as messy as it did on an average day. At least he'd cleaned himself earlier. He had stopped by Jisung's place, a proper apartment, and took a shower, stealing a spritz of the perfume on his bedside table on his way out. Jisung asked what the special occasion was. Felix had been vague, telling his friend he had a job interview and moving on before Jisung could pry any more. Felix promised himself he would tell Jisung, but only if he got the job. If not, then no harm would be done.

Felix sauntered across the casino he was presented with on the second floor. The expanse of the room was nothing to cough at, and neither was the ambiance. Similar to Blind Spot, there were neon lights illuminating the place from the ground, upwards. The ultramarine hue of the lighting set the mood, calming but inviting. Matching the size of the casino, most of the room was packed full. Blackjack and poker tables were occupied by guests, there were pokie machines off to one side playing clinging noises of fake coins and overwhelming music. On the other end was a bar, grey and shiny. Bottles glimmered from the shelves, reflecting the low-key lighting and adding to the atmosphere.

Felix briefly wondered if he'd been led astray by the clerk, who appeared like she didn't want to deal with anyone. That train of thought came to a halt when he spotted the familiar sight of Changbin's back as he sat by the bar. He was having a relaxed conversation with the person beside him, whom Felix didn't recognise. He went over to Changbin, viewing him as a somewhat comforting figure amongst the unknown. Changbin noticed him when he got near, a cool smile brushing over his face.

"Felix, I didn't think I'd be seeing you here today," Changbin commented lightly. "Are you looking for the meeting room?"

Felix nodded, glancing at the stranger on the stool over. He found a look of suspicion on the man's face, scrutinising Felix like he'd already made up his mind about him. Felix tried to ignore the weird look he was receiving, tuning in to only Changbin.

"It's just over there," Changbin directed, pointing a finger to the other end of the bar.

Concealed in the dim light was a door, a small, silver plaque nailed into the front of it. Felix thanked Changbin and walked up to the door. He saw on the plaque the word Conference and was silently grateful he'd been shown where to go. He probably would be standing around like a confused outsider otherwise, no direction in his step. He raised a fist and knocked, waiting for permission to enter.

It wasn't long before the door swung inward, and he was greeted by a man that could have only been sculpted by whatever higher beings existed. Broad and clearly muscular shoulders were encased in a slimming, silky button up, a simple chain necklace with a silver pendant hanging down between exposed collarbones. Felix swallowed thickly, taking in the man's face. Angular, but with softened edges, skin smooth like a porcelain doll, eyes unwavering and sharp, staring deep into Felix's horny soul.

A waft of a cologne more potent than Jisung's invaded his senses. The man's hair was well-kempt, his fringe hanging gently over his intense eyes. The earrings he wore only amplified his attractiveness. Felix never thought himself the type of guy to give his whole body over to another person, but the temptation was ever-present right now. He experienced a warm stir in the pit of his stomach, and he had to consciously tell himself off for feeling such a way.

"Uh, I'm Felix," he said. He almost cringed at how utterly stunned he sounded.

"Come in," the man welcomed, standing to the side to let Felix walk in. "We have business to discuss."

Oh, that voice, Felix thought, there's nothing he couldn't tell me to do. He bit his lip, trying to stave off the nasty images whirring through his mind. He stepped into the room, taking the seat he was guided to. Other than himself and the other man, nobody else was in here. Just them.

"I'm Chan, as you may have been told," the man introduced. He sat across from Felix. "Changbin informed me that you're a great candidate for a full-time position with SKZ. I'll just start with some basic questions, all right?"

"All right," Felix said. He hoped this wouldn't go for too long, otherwise he might say something regretful.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself."

The open-ended question reminded Felix of when he went to interview with NOKC. That was the only other time he'd been in circumstances like this. Back then, he'd been prepared for this kind of ask, but since that interview, he'd forgotten all that he'd rehearsed. If he couldn't rely on practised lines and a falsified backstory, he was going to have to at least try.

"Well," he started off, "I've never had a job before, but I'm very interested in working for a business like yours. I grew up learning to be independent, but I believe I can communicate with other people. Uh, I..."

"Felix," Chan interrupted gently, "this isn't a normal job. You don't have to tell me all that bullshit. I want to know what you can do for me and my work, not your entire life story."

Felix paused for a second, rethinking his course of action. He didn't feel embarrassed often, but the ugly feeling was creeping its way into his stomach now. He nearly stammered but shut his mouth before he could double-down on the shameful moment. He took a breath, finding the right words.

"I hate Next Of Kin Co. If I could take them down myself, I would've years ago," he settled with. His tone was a little stronger than he would have liked, but he continued, nonetheless. "When I saw Changbin and Hyunjin killing Chu Dohyon, I asked Han Jisung who he thought would do that. He told me about SKZ, and I knew this was the only opportunity I would have at bringing down NOKC."

Chan seemed content with this answer and let Felix keep talking.

"I know things about people who work for NOKC, or who used to. I know phone numbers, addresses, families, medical history, you name it. I have all that information, and I want to use it to help you and your business," Felix asserted, hands planted flat on the table between them. He was passionate about this, he knew, but his overbearing confidence still surprised him to a degree.

"That's more like it," Chan encouraged, still remaining composed. The small praise, in Felix's honest opinion, made him even more the pinnacle of sex appeal. "And, I understand you haven't told Changbin yet where you get this information from. I wanted to ask, myself, how do you know all of this? If it's any encouragement, I won't hire you if I don't know."

Felix retracted his hands, sitting them in his lap. He'd had time to think about an answer for this, which was a relief. He still wasn't completely sure if what he was going to say would make the result any different, but it was worth a try.

"Well... my sister used to work for them — for NOKC." He felt nervous again. Chan's expression faltered, only slightly, but enough for Felix to catch it. "I know everything through her. But, uh, she can't be the one helping you instead of me. They had her killed." The only part of this which was untrue was that Ana used to work for NOKC. It was Felix in that position. However, the rest was sadly still true.

"I see," Chan said, taking note of the news. "And now you have a vendetta you want to address, is that correct?"

"If that's what you want to call it."

"May I ask, have you met any of these people whose information you have?" Chan inquired now, genuine curiosity seeping through into his voice.

This was much easier to lie about.

"No, I haven't. Just my sister."

"So, you wouldn't know why Ha Yeongsik was brutally murdered last week, would you?" Chan questioned. His observant eyes seemed to stare right through Felix. "Jisung said you were being threatened, and he stepped in to help. You don't know why Yeongsik was threatening you?"

Felix felt his stomach drop, a sinking feeling overwhelming him suddenly. He hoped his face didn't show the guilt he experienced.

"I... I was confused about that, too," he fibbed, an idea dawning on him like the brilliant sun in the mornings. Chan waited for him to explain. "My best guess is he recognised me as Ana's brother. Maybe he'd seen us at a shop together before?"

Chan's contemplative silence was alarming, to say it lightly. Felix felt the sweat between his skin and clothes, could feel his heart thumping in his chest. The quietude was domineering.

"I'm not one to shy away from violence," Felix admitted, filling the silence. "But it was really... unexpected to see all those people brutalise somebody that I'd hardly even heard about."

He hoped Chan would feel pity for him and then move on from the topic. As if responding to his prayers, Chan's facial expression turned to one of moderate concern. It was the most emotion he had shown the entire meeting.

"It can be hard to watch, I know. But you're going to have to get used to it," he stated. His hands clasped together, a short clap sounding into the room. "And you won't have to worry about any other people threatening you. My security team is not an incompetent one; we'll ensure your safety."

Felix tilted his head to the side, mild perplexity written over his features. How was the hotel security going to guarantee his safety if he was going to walk out of the Levanter Hostel in ten minutes?

Chan picked up on the puzzlement, answering it with a strangely soft smile.

"You're hired."

-

Chan stayed by the door of the conference room, eyeing Felix as he strolled back through the casino. He'd been sent off to gather the things he needed before he could move into the hotel. Chan's gaze didn't waver, holding onto Felix's figure, shifting with every movement he made. For once in his life, Chan didn't know what to make of a new employee. Felix had something about him that Chan was allured by, which was a weird phenomenon because it was a feeling he'd never experienced before.

Felix with his big, brown eyes, overgrown brunet hair that fanned around his face, and freckles that gave him a younger look. Felix with his air of zeal smoking around his words, with his deep and appealing voice. Felix, who had watched Chan with those great eyes, had listened with more intent than Chan had witnessed in a person. Chan was at a loss for words to describe the muddle going on in his mind. He feared his choice to hire Felix was swayed by an emotion that was shoved deep down inside of him. One that hadn't surfaced since he was an adolescent, even.

He waited until Felix disappeared behind the doors of the elevator, the promise of him returning enough for Chan to proceed with what he wanted to do. He strode into the casino, closing the meeting room door securely behind him. The action was swift, almost gliding. He found Changbin at the bar, having a drink with Minho.

Minho spotted him first, straightening up a little, in the way that he always did when Chan was around. He greeted his boss with a bow of his head, displaying his obvious respect. When Changbin turned to see him, he got straight to his burning question.

"So?"

"He's hired," Chan confirmed. Changbin beamed at him, something knowing in the way he was observing Chan.

"I told you he was good, didn't I?"

Chan contained his eye roll, pursing his lips and simply nodding instead.

"Is he moving in today?" Minho asked, something thick in the way he spoke. He seemed tense. "Did he tell you where he gets all his info from?"

"Yes, he's going back to his house now to gather his things. And yes, he did tell me. Felix's sister used to work at NOKC, but after they had her killed, he's developed a thirst for vengeance, it seems. He's passionate about this," Chan explained openly, failing to mention his unmistakable liking of Felix beyond a professional setting. That was something he could deal with later.

"His sister worked for NOKC?" Minho repeated, unable to comprehend the idea. "What if this is a set up?"

"Then it's a damn good one," Changbin interjected. "I've seen his house and how he lives every day. If this was all a hoax, it's a fucking good one."

"I believe Changbin on this one," Chan stated, uncomfortably confident in his words. How could he say that when he'd only just met Felix? As a leader, too, how could he be so sure. He was in charge of making sure everyone in his employment was safe, realistically, he should be the sceptical one out of them.

"That's good enough for me," Changbin said with a shrug.

Minho stayed silent, opting to chug down the rest of his drink. His reaction was sensible, but Chan outwardly dismissed it. He needed his team on his side even if there were doubts hanging low in the air. His willingness to entrust in Felix so quickly was uncharacteristic; it caused him to mill over what the nature of this feeling inside him was. There was definitely something about Felix that made him act differently, but what that something was, he couldn't tell yet. He also couldn't distinguish whether or not is was a good or bad feeling. He just hoped his instincts backed him up in the end.

-

With his clothes stuffed into a decently sized plastic bag and his notebook wrapped inside a t-shirt in it, too, Felix was ready for the move. He was back at the Levanter Hostel within the hour, despite the travel time being a twenty-five-minute walk. With limited belongings to begin with, it was an easy enough task to pack up his things. He was moving to the elevator again, after stopping by the receptionist first. She had passed him a key and told him to head to the third floor this time. He took one glance at the key and saw the room number written on a plastic tag attached to the keyring, noting which room he was to go to.

Felix felt a negativity towards elevators. There were plenty of times he'd used them, but only ever in the context of his old workplace. The idea of being stuck inside the confined box with the dreadful Pi Yongmi, CEO of NOKC, again was chilling. Countless times in his past had he been in that position and he remembered the cold feeling he got each time. Not the type of cold that caused only goosebumps, no, but rather the type of cold that made his bones stiffen. Pi Yongmi exuded an energy that made even the strongest creature shiver. For Felix, who was not classed as a brawny individual in the least, her presence was positively icy.

Being in the same room as her was one thing, but being stuck in an elevator with her was worse. Felix was glad to step into the elevator at the hotel alone, without the looming presence of another person. He released an appreciative sigh when the doors began to slide shut and he was still the only one in the metal box.

And then, thud.

A harsh hand appeared in the doorway, forcing the elevator doors to automatically open back up. Not just an average hand, either, rather one directly plucked from a horror film. Sticky red stained the edge of the door, a portion of a handprint left behind as the owner of the hand stepped inside. The man who now accompanied Felix was Hyunjin, and he was absolutely covered in blood.

He stood in the corner, leaning against the metal bar along the walls. Felix had never seen him in such good lighting before, only ever in darkness or neon pink glows. Hyunjin looked exhausted, dark red painting his skin and clothing. There was splatter on his face, a smudge, too, telling Felix that there was an effort made to get rid of the droplets. It appeared as if he had recently returned from a battle, like a war-torn soldier before recovery. Except, he wore a cosy smile. Completely dismissive of the fact he was getting blood everywhere, completely unconcerned by the terror in Felix's gaze, Hyunjin looked gratified. Even when the blood-soaked man turned to Felix, he beamed at him.

"Felix, it's so nice to meet you again," Hyunjin welcomed, wildly elated for some reason unbeknownst to Felix.

"Yeah, it's good seeing you, too. Have you..." Felix paused, searching for the right words. He couldn't peel his eyes off of Hyunjin's admittedly crazy appearance. "Have you had a busy day?"

"Just a little busy." Hyunjin shrugged like it really was nothing more than an ordinary day. He fixed his posture up, not so much slumping anymore, but more leaning. The elevator doors finally closed, trapping the two of them in with each other. Hyunjin made no effort to press a different floor number, so Felix assumed they were headed the same way. How reassuring (not). "A little birdy told me you're with SKZ now. Looks to be true," Hyunjin continued after an awkward wait. He glanced down at the black, plastic bag in Felix's hold. "I'm glad Chan listened to me; I think you're going to do big things for us. I just hope he wasn't thinking with his dick when he made the decision to employ you."

Felix stammered, startled by the combined nonchalance and abruptness of the statement. He furrowed his brows, face suddenly warming up. He shouldn't be blushing at that, he really should not, yet he couldn't help himself. He managed to clear his throat, praying he didn't look too obviously flustered by what Hyunjin said.

"What do you mean?"

Hyunjin let out a short chuckle. His eyes travelled from Felix's face, down his arms and torso, landing at his feet and going back up the other way. The stare was intense. He made a general gesture towards Felix.

"Are you joking? You're adorable; exactly Chan's type. He goes for the innocent looking ones all the time," Hyunjin divulged without so much as a blink. "You have a pretty face; anyone can see that."

Felix swallowed down a familiar disgust at that. He'd been told he was attractive before, but in very different context. It was strange hearing it now, in this place, instead of his old workplace. Listening to Hyunjin call him pretty and adorable was sickening, it made his head light and his chest heavy. Hyunjin took a few slinking steps toward Felix, grabbing his face in one hand, firm but considerate. He peered down at Felix, emphasising the slight height difference between them.

"Gotta be careful with a face like yours around here."

Felix could feel the lukewarm, tacky blood stamp into his skin with the sudden hold. He was stunned, feeling there was nothing he could do to stop Hyunjin from doing as he pleased. Felix also didn't know if he wanted to mess with Hyunjin when he so clearly had some amount of violence in his tendencies. There was something deeper behind Hyunjin's words that Felix couldn't pinpoint. There was a double meaning in there somewhere, however it may take some time for Felix to discern exactly what the undertone was alluding to. Hyunjin was decidedly a difficult person to read, much more of a closed book than Changbin was. For now, Felix chose to take the words at face value, like Hyunjin expected him to.

"I can handle myself," he said, confident like usual, but still baffled by the scenario unfolding.

Hyunjin gave him a pitiful look, just as the elevator was arriving at the third floor. The doors drew open, revealing a hotel hall, lined with rooms, all numbered accordingly. He paid no mind to the fact they had arrived. He shook his head slowly, mock sympathy written over his features.

"Oh Felix," he sighed, "you're not the one I'm worried about."

Felix's face dropped, along with his stomach. He felt like he'd been caught in a lie, almost. He wondered if Hyunjin was genuinely concerned for Chan if Felix was around, or if he was just throwing that out there to mess with him. If there was anything Felix could read on Hyunjin, it was that were was an air of cockiness around him. Not arrogant cockiness, but the kind that let Felix know that maybe Hyunjin was a trickster. He certainly seemed to enjoy Felix's reaction to his shocking appearance in the elevator. Maybe it was just that the element of surprise was one that Hyunjin leaned toward. Who knew, though; he was hard to see through.

He let go of Felix and sauntered off into the hallway on the third floor. Felix stepped out behind him, unsure of where to go from here. He was rattled by the interaction, adrenaline buzzing under his skin in a way that was familiar in the circumstance of foot chases. He watched Hyunjin unlock the door to one of the rooms lining the corridor, then disappearing inside. All that was left behind was the smear of blood on the door handle. Unsettling.

Felix considered turning around and leaving. Perhaps this was too much too quickly for him to deal with. Maybe he was lying when he said to Hyunjin that he could handle himself. It felt like Hyunjin could read him better than Felix had initially anticipated. The nerve-wracking sensation that came with knowing he could be observed so easily was scary. The chance that this decision to join a gang would lead to his death was enough for Felix to feel a sense of regret.

It's too late, he thought, I've committed myself to this. If he backed out now, how would he ever avenge his sister? The answer was he wouldn't, he would never get this opportunity again. So, he sucked in a breath and walked to room 318, his new home.

-

Hyunjin had washed and scrubbed the blood from his skin, changing out of his dirty clothes into fresh ones. He left the stained shirt, jacket and pants on the floor of his bedroom, choosing to deal with them at a later time. He didn't know yet if he was going to rinse out the blood or just burn the clothes. Maybe he'd throw them into the ocean, like he used to when he was low on lighters. He hated the smell of the ocean, though, so that was a final resort in most cases. Rotting flesh and potent salt was not exactly what he'd call pleasant. Nowadays, he had the resources to properly rid of his dirty laundry. Chan had been a provider of many things when Hyunjin first joined SKZ, matches and a flame included.

He sashayed out of his room, heavy boots thunking against the navy-blue carpet in the hallway as he walked. His shoes were the only item he had bothered to clean, being his pride and joy. Smooth black leather, authentic, held together by strong purple seams that popped against the nightly colour of the boots. They had a steel cap covering his toes and heels, resembling an old-fashioned car grille. There were studs lining the backs of them, too, adding to the weight of them. They were noisy shoes, but that didn't matter when they did such wonderful amounts of damage.

Hyunjin had commissioned a spiked, metallic slip for the bottoms of them as well, for special occasions when smashing a person's face in with his underfoot was more satisfying than killing them the usual way. They were his prized possession, and if anybody dared touch them, they would have to taste them, too. If they wanted to touch the boots so badly, then Hyunjin would give them front-row tickets to their real beauty.

Now, his gorgeous boots took him in the direction of the ground floor. He could access the basement from there. The thrill from his earlier beheading was starting to wear off, so he needed something to prevent his boredom from catching up to him again. He knew the basement was the right place to go to achieve this. Beads of water dripped from the ends of his dark hair, the remnants of what he'd missed when drying off. He couldn't care less about wiping away the droplets that glided down the side of his face, concentrating on getting to the ground floor of the hotel.

The elevator doors gave way at last, and he strode into the lobby with natural elegance. He walked up to the front desk, sporting a charming, albeit forced, grin. The clerk was unimpressed by Hyunjin's attempt at luring her affection, yet again, forever dismissive of his tactics at winning her over. It was fun to annoy her, though. He leaned his hands on the countertop, tilting his head in a sly manner. He winked, knowing it would get right under her skin when he did. She scowled, displeased by the interaction already.

"My lovely Hyori, will you pretty please give me the keys to the basement?" Hyunjin asked, putting on the most coquettish, crawling voice he could manage. He fluttered his eyes, hoping they would look pretty enough to piss Hyori off.

"Someone's already down there," she grumbled, flicking her gaze back to the computer screen in front of her. She was openly ignoring the flirtatious behaviour Hyunjin was exuding, which gratified him in a way that was definitely classed as cruel.

He swung his shoulders, imitating a shy person confessing their love to their crush.

"Sweetie, can you tell me who's in the basement?" He knew very well that pet names irked her to no end. If he had the power to fake a blush, he would be wielding pink cheeks right now. The receptionist was silently fuming and he lived for it. He thrived on the reaction.

"Yang Jeongin," Hyori informed, her words tense like she was about to snap. He would love to push her limit even further but hearing the name of the person he was seeking rerouted his direction.

Jeongin was the newest member, before Felix, of SKZ. He was the most interesting individual Hyunjin had ever come across and he'd been not-so secretly obsessing over the young man since he moved in. Felix was adorable, sure, Hyunjin could admit that. But Jeongin... Jeongin was something else. Sharp cheekbones, foxy eyes, and dolly lips that were always set in a comfortable frown. His appearance was only the beginning. The way in which he spoke, with a mocking tone, or venom and bitterness, or warmth great enough to melt even Hyunjin's ice cold heart. His intelligence, his complete and utter lack of common sense.

One second he was creating technology-advancing remedies, and the next he was crying out in pain because he touched a boiled kettle to check if it was hot. He would be combining chemicals with names that were entirely unpronounceable, knowing every which way his brew would go right or wrong. Then the very next moment, he'd nearly get run over by a car because he forgot to look both ways before crossing the road.

On this day Jeongin would be buzzing with excitement because he rediscovered his love for chemistry, on that day he would be screaming at anyone who so much as looked at him wrong. Majority of the time he was neutral, small pieces of his more extreme side slipping through in his speech and actions. But other times, when he let out those extremes, Hyunjin couldn't help but fall for him a little more. He was unpredictable, and that was probably the most appealing characteristic about him. Hyunjin was, fairly certainly, engrossed in Jeongin.

"Thank you, darling Hyori," he blandished finally. He turned away, but not before blowing her a kiss. She rolled her eyes.

Hyunjin made his way toward the door, stamped with the word STORAGE, that was situated a small distance from the front desk. He tugged on the handle, it giving way to the action. The door opened up to reveal a set of stairs leading downwards, straight into Hell, he liked to kid. Hell was not actually down there, but rather an intricate laboratory that had winding shelves and hanging plants, all with their own reason to be there. Glass vials were propped up by holders, flasks and little containers with danger labels were organised throughout the large room, some sitting inside the walk-in freezer.

Hyunjin hadn't the slightest idea what anything in those containers did, nor did he care. It was up to Minho and Jeongin and their minions to know. Apparently, rumour had it that what went down in here was supporting SKZ's main goal of taking down the empire that was NOKC. It made no sense to Hyunjin. Blissful ignorance, it really was, the not knowing. He didn't want to understand the hazardous materials stacked upon the shelves. It made his skin crawl at the thought of knowing what monstrosities could be created by simple chemicals and plants, or a mix of both.

Amongst the metal, barred shelves, he spotted Jeongin in the distance. He was focused on writing down notes in a thick notebook, seeming to not have registered Hyunjin's presence. Hyunjin smiled at the thought of that, of Jeongin being so concentrated on a task he couldn't sense anything else. The commitment to his craft was admirable.

Hyunjin was light in his pursuit now, paying attention to the placement and timing of his steps. He didn't want his boots interrupting a peaceful moment like this. He weaved through the racks and rows of science-y objects and substances, eyes caught on Jeongin like a predator to prey. His movements were swift, silent. Jeongin had his back turned to him, sitting at the end of an aisle atop a plastic crate. He used his knees as a table, a bad choice of a flat surface in Hyunjin's opinion. That didn't matter though, not when Hyunjin had his sights set on the concentrated man.

He stalked up behind Jeongin, peering over his shoulder with an absurd level of curiosity. Hyunjin hated that he was so intrigued by another human but thrived in it all the same. It had been a while since he'd last shown interest in someone, so it was nice to feel the same excitement of it all again. Jeongin was, from what Hyunjin could decipher, writing and rewriting, and then editing, a design for what looked like a handbag. Letters and numbers mushed together with a few multiplication signs divvied across the paper. Notes were scribbled down the page margins, all discombobulated scrawls. Still, it made no sense.

Hyunjin was not here to solve the scientific mysteries that Jeongin seemed to adore, no, he was here for Jeongin. He placed a hand, now soft and clean as ever, on the back of Jeongin's neck, startling the poor man. Jeongin looked up at the newcomer with puzzlement. Hyunjin gave a reassuring squeeze with his hand, brandishing his signature teasing grin.

"What are you up to, Innie?" He asked, a seductive lilt in his voice. Unlike the tone he used to bother Hyori, this one was genuine, his deep want to attract Jeongin as present as ever.

Jeongin hesitated for a moment, surprised by Hyunjin's sudden presence still. Then, he blurted, "I was thinking, don't you think skin would be a great material to use nowadays?"

Hyunjin glanced back down at the paper in Jeongin's lap, reading over the big letters at the bottom of the page that he'd missed before. Skin Purse, it read. He gently massaged the back of Jeongin's neck, nodding slightly.

"That would definitely be a valuable market. Where are you getting this skin from, exactly? Do you need someone to help collect any?" The implication was clear, despite the absurdity of the question. Hyunjin couldn't think of anything he wouldn't do for Jeongin. If he wanted skin, then Hyunjin would hunt some down for him. If Jeongin wanted Hyunjin's skin, he would hand it right over. The ask would never be too big.

"I don't want skin," Jeongin denied with a shake of his head. His shoulders relaxed as Hyunjin continued to soothe the tension in his neck. Hyunjin relished how the other man melted under his touch. "I was just saying; why let all those ocean bodies go to waste?”

Hyunjin moved to crouch beside Jeongin, letting his hand fall to rest on the notebook over his thigh. He never seemed fazed by physical affection, which only encouraged Hyunjin to do it more. They met eyes, a sternness in Hyunjin's gaze.

"You know, if you ever want anything, I'll get it for you," he vowed, every ounce of truth in his words. "Anything at all. I will get it for you."

Jeongin brightened up at this, a cheeky look taking over his features. He tapped his pen on the face of his book, considering something.

"Even a lollipop?" He tested playfully.

"How about a bag of them? What flavour?" The questions were urgent, like Hyunjin's life depended on giving Jeongin everything he ever wanted or needed.

"Those pink and purple ones from the nearby grocer's; they're my favourite," Jeongin said, grinning. Fuck, he was a gorgeous human being. He'd crawled beneath Hyunjin's skin and gotten cosy in such a short time, it was actually astounding to Hyunjin.

"I'll be right back, Innie," Hyunjin promised, planting a quick kiss to Jeongin's head as he stood up. He caught a flash of the bright rosy colouring that spread over Jeongin's face before he spun on his heel and headed back to the staircase. He was on a mission now.

-

Having permission to walk wherever he pleased was something new to Felix, at least while being employed. The freedom of going out and about without needing to inform his boss of his every move was refreshing. Strange, too, but refreshing, nonetheless.

At first, Felix had gone to the check-in desk and asked the lady there where he could find Chan. She hadn't looked up from her computer and simply told him that Chan was busy. When he tried explaining that he needed to go to the shop, she shrugged and said, "Okay, go then?" She spoke it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was certainly not obvious, not to Felix. When he worked under Next Of Kin Co., he was obliged to message Pi Yongmi any time he was clocking off, and each time he left the building.

It was as he walked out of the Levanter Hostel that he came to the realisation of how weird that was. Yongmi had no business knowing when he was exiting the headquarters, just like Chan had no business in knowing when he left the hotel. They were running large businesses; they didn't have time for him. So, why had Yongmi forced him to do that?

He knew the answer. It made a shiver go down his spine.

A recognisable buzzing disrupted his train of thought, his hand already reaching to answer the call. The number displayed on the screen was comfortably familiar, yet Felix felt his heart drop when he saw it. Jisung was ringing him. Jisung, his best friend, who didn't know about his new job. Felix clicked on the answer button.

"Felix, where are you?" Jisung questioned, urgency in his voice. "Is everything all right? Are you safe right now?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because you're not at your house! And all of your things are gone, too. Fuck, Felix, I was so worried that another scumbag politician had tracked you down," Jisung cursed, clear relief in tone telling Felix he was happy nothing bad had happened.

"I'm too slick that for that to happen," he joked lightly. "I can't believe you'd underestimate me like that. What kind of friend are you?"

"Me?! What kind of friend am I? How about: what kind of friend moves out and doesn't let their best friend know?"

"Well, about that..." Felix glanced behind him, scanning the brooding establishment that he'd just strolled out from. The neon sign was much brighter at night, the buzzing coming from it more discernible to the ear. These streets were far quieter than where his previous place was situated, hardly a person or car in sight. He was glad no one was around to overhear their conversation.

"Yes?" Jisung pressed, impatient.

"I have a new job. It requires me to move out of my old house," he began to explain.

"I swear to whatever higher being is out there, if you're back with that dreadful company again, I will—"

"I joined a gang."

Silence hung thick in the air, not only through the line of the phone call, but also around Felix. He was unused to quietude like this at this time of night, or at any time of day. Being outside instantly entailed people. Crowding in the night markets, bodies stuffed into Blind Spot, tired workers sleeping on the job because of the hour. Any time and all the time, there were people around.

The streets being so desolate was a unique experience, one that caused Felix to feel like the world was swallowing him whole. It was more natural to be seeking out a corner to whisper conversation into, not telling an entire street what he was talking about. He shivered in the coldness.

"Felix," Jisung whinged, "why do you make me worry like this? You must do it on purpose. First, you didn't tell me you moved, now you're telling me you forgot to mention you joined a gang? It's SKZ, isn't it?" His voice was one of incredulousness, in total disbelief at the recent events that'd failed to be mentioned to him.

Felix had not been one to shy away from letting Jisung in on things at the last minute. In fact, it was habit by now. But those things had been significantly lighter in weight, like that one time he'd rearranged his house and thought it better that Jisung just see it for himself, rather than explain the whole scenario. Or, another time when Felix had nicked a purse and found hundreds of thousands of won inside, and thought to keep it to himself, knowing Jisung had plenty of money already.

"Yeah, I didn't want to say anything until it was final, that's all," he told, only half lying. He knew Jisung would be one to discourage getting into high-level sketchy business, having avoided it, himself, in the past. Jisung strongly disliked the idea of being tied to work that was as gang labour. That was most of the reason Felix hadn't disclosed this yet.

"Yeah, yeah, I believe that." It was obvious he did not. "You need to tell me about these things. What if they were trying to lure you into prostitution? Only your face is built for that lifestyle; you wouldn't last a day!"

Felix's mouth fell open slightly, appalled by the vulgar statement. He really shouldn't be shocked by Jisung's brutal sense of humour anymore, but sometimes it still stunned him into silence.

"I don't know if I'm flattered or deeply offended by that," he said after a moment. He started to slowly make his way around the side of the Levanter Hostel, realising how distracted this discussion had made him. He had places to be.

"You should be flattered. That's my pillow talk," Jisung replied with a prideful huff.

"It needs tweaking," Felix critiqued. As he rounded the corner and met the opening of a cut-through, his eyes suddenly fell onto a figure hunched over on the ground. A young man was curled in on himself, leaning against the smooth edge of the hotel's exterior wall. Majority of his body was obscured by the angle of the darkness in the alley, bur Felix could see a flash of his face. He was in pain, hissing as he held onto something. Abrupt panic surged in Felix and he knew he needed to end to call quickly.

"Sorry, Jisung, I'll have to call you back later."

Jisung was cut off before he could curse at his best friend again for his brusqueness this evening. Felix tucked his cell phone away in a pocket and cautiously, as much as fastly, hurried to the stranger's side.

"Are you okay?"

He could have pulled out a knife and stabbed him, Felix realised. Or, the man could've taken a gun out of the darkness and shot Felix point-blank. It was not a safe world. But he did none of that, instead shaking his head, almost frantic. He lifted his hand into the beam of the street lamp, displaying a deep gash opening the skin on his palm.

Felix tried not to wince but couldn't hold back the expression in time. He grimaced at the ghastly sight, moving quickly to search through his jacket pockets. There was at least a band-aid in there somewhere, he'd only put a couple in there yesterday. With the amount of running he usually did, tripping over himself was bound to happen. It was vital he had something to stick over a wound. Luckily, he fished out one of the bigger plasters, checking it under the limited lighting. He crouched beside the injured man, peeling away the non-stick cover of the band-aid. With care, Felix stuck it over the wound, struggling a bit as the stranger was trembling. When the gash was dealt with, the man thanked him.

"How did you hurt yourself?" Felix asked, without much heart in the question. It was none of his business how this guy got himself a nasty scar on his hand, at the end of the day.

"I was trying to climb that," the stranger told, a quiver in his voice. He pointed, with his unhurt hand, to a ladder running the height of the neighbouring building. It was barely visible in the dark. "There's a broken step, though. I ended up falling about halfway up to the roof."

Felix thought he was fortunate that the next-door structure was not as tall as the hostel, otherwise he would be much worse off right now. A sliced hand was better than a broken ankle.

"Why are you climbing a ladder in the dark? You didn't think you'd slip or something?" Felix said before he could help it, hoping it didn't come off as rude at all. He was taken aback by the overlooked common sense of not doing something like scale a building at night time.

"I didn't think about it, honestly," the man said with a shrug. He got to his feet, steadying himself against the wall as he went. He brushed himself off with one hand, dusting away the tiny rocks covering his pants. "Thank you for helping me, though."

"It's no problem... what are you doing now?"

Felix squinted into the darkness, watching as the man went straight back to climbing up the ladder. He used his decent hand to clasp the rungs, the other pressed on the side of the ladder to balance himself out. He seemed to warily feel each and every pole before using it to support himself.

At least he's learned to be more cautious, Felix thought. That didn't defeat the fact that he was doing something that was, admittedly, stupid.

"There's a blue moon tonight," the stranger spoke, like it explained everything. He gave no further explanation, continuing his way up the edge of the building.

"Okay, well. Have fun with that." Felix gave a quick nod, trying to convince himself that he was fine letting the man make the same mistake a second time. He turned to start heading down the alley again.

He'd taken a maximum of two steps before he heard a panicked fuck! behind him. Instinctively, he spun back around, just in time to witness the stranger fall to the ground once more. There was a dull thud as he made impact with the concrete below them. Felix winced again.

"Are you okay?"

It felt like Deja vu.

"Got another band-aid?"

Felix passed over another plaster, close to rolling his eyes as the stranger fixed himself up this time. Two matching injuries on his hands, two matching band-aids.

Felix sighed. "I hope you're not going to try going up the ladder again. I'm running low on my band-aid supply."

The man laughed, shaking his head in response.

"I don't think I can try again even if I wanted to," he joked. "What's your name, Mr Pharmacy Man?"

"Felix. You?"

"Jeongin. You're the newest person to join SKZ, right? I think I remember Hyunjin telling me about you," Jeongin said. He stood up again, not bothering with dusting off his pants this time.

Felix nodded at this, concluding that he must've also been a member. From what Felix could read of Jeongin, he seemed irrationally determined. If it wasn't obvious in his attempt to reach the roof just to spy the blue moon, then Felix guaranteed he'd have figured it out sooner or later. Jeongin was easier to analyse than Hyunjin, similar to Changbin in that aspect. He had sharp eyes that were unsettled, flicking between Felix, the ladder, the street lamp and back again. He fidgeted with the band-aids, flinching when he accidentally tugged on one and contacted his sore. This didn't deter his fiddling. He was a generally nervous person; Felix drew from his behaviour.

His smile seemed half detached from his face, like the emotion behind it wasn't all quite there. When it slowly faded while he spoke, it suddenly picked up again the moment Felix started speaking. It looked like Jeongin had to actively remind himself that smiling was a sign of friendliness and made him appear approachable, like it was an effort to communicate he meant no harm.

"That's me," Felix confirmed. He tried not to sound like he pitied Jeongin, because he did. He felt sorry that Jeongin felt he needed to act unnaturally to come across as polite. "It was good to meet you, Jeongin, but I really need to get to the store before it closes. I'm sure we'll see each other again."

"Of course," Jeongin agreed. He sent Felix a wave as he finally passed through the side alley, able to get to where he needed to go now. Although Changbin had been nice to him, too, Felix had a good feeling about meeting Jeongin.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THREE: THOSE WITH KEEN INTEREST

The sweat on your palms and your surveillance shadow

“Innie,” Hyunjin cooed. Jeongin felt heat on his back as Hyunjin came up behind him, comfortably resting his chin on Jeongin’s shoulder. Hearing the nickname caused a stir in his stomach, feeling it flip over pleasantly. His cheeks warmed, suddenly shy at the fact Hyunjin was so close to him. They were in the hall on the third floor, unoccupied beyond themselves. Though it was a public area, this felt strangely private, a moment between just the two of them. Jeongin felt flustered when a pair of arms slithered around his waist, holding him firmly.

“Hey, Hyunjin.” Jeongin desperately wanted to cringe at his own voice, sounding far too enamoured for his liking. If he was being truthful, he’d fallen head over heels for Hyunjin. It was hard not to feel immediately grappled by the protectiveness and dedication that Hyunjin emanated.

It was slightly terrifying, though, in all ways that mattered. Jeongin had never been in a relationship before, not that they were in a relationship or anything, but if they were... what would he do? He was lost and confused in that department, unaware of what was considered normal in a relationship. Would they hold hands? Would they kiss every day? Would they go out for dinner and blush through every conversation? He just didn’t know.

For all of the amazing information that was stowed away in the corners of his mind, Jeongin wouldn’t know the first step to dating, let alone a full commitment to another person. Hyunjin seemed to know the right moments to show affection, to joke with Jeongin, to leave him the fuck alone. Hyunjin had it all figured out and Jeongin was still stuck on the fear of dependability.

“Are you going back to your room?” Hyunjin asked, his voice an attractive whisper in Jeongin’s ear. Jeongin simply nodded his head, unable to find the words in him. Hyunjin was so close. “Can I join you?”

Were Hyunjin’s words implying something beyond just hanging out? If that was the case, then Jeongin was absolutely screwed. Relationships were a big thing in themselves, but sex... sex was going to be impossible if Jeongin didn’t work out what to do in the next five minutes. He wanted it. He wanted everything Hyunjin was willing to give him. But it was so new and weird and scary.

“I was just going to read,” he said, afraid it might deter Hyunjin. Reading was an underappreciated and dwindling hobby these days. Especially the thorough reading of textbooks and scientific reports, of which Jeongin found deep enjoyment in. Many people in the past had found it odd — odd in a bad way, too.

“That’s fine. I can find something else to do.” Hyunjin loosened his hold on Jeongin, ready to move away. Jeongin prevented him from doing so, grabbing hold of his hands and pulling them back around his waist. The grasp was probably too hard, but he didn’t want Hyunjin to leave him.

“You can still join me,” he offered. “We could watch a movie together?” Isn’t that what all the cute couples on TV did? They watched a movie together and cuddled up, a bowl of popcorn sitting in their laps. Jeongin craved that kind of dynamic between himself and Hyunjin. He yearned for it like he’d lost it at some point in his life and needed it back to continue living.

“I’d love to watch a movie with you,” Hyunjin confessed, saying the words in a manner that made them feel like a dirty secret. “Anything for my Innie.” He turned his face, nuzzling into Jeongin’s neck. He gave the flesh there a gentle bite, causing Jeongin to giggle.

Ew, he was giggling. He was way too invested in this crazy man.

They tore apart, going to Jeongin’s hotel room together. He invited his guest to sit on the large couch in the study with him. He had never used this room as much of a study, more like a library crossed with a lounge room. There was no desk or important notes in this room, that was all down in the laboratory. There was a TV, though. His favourite activity to do in here was to dig his nose into a textbook and fall asleep. He was never bored but instead was too tired from staying up late doing his reading.

They sat side-by-side on the couch, pulling one of the many thick blankets he owned over their legs. He grabbed the remote, pressing the on button, and the television flickered to life. They decided on a thriller film, having talked about their love for this movie genre. Brooding music filled the air, the room going dark when Jeongin turned off the light.

A couple minutes into the movie, he felt the familiar sensation of Hyunjin tugging him close. Unable to resist, Jeongin melted into the other’s side, breathing in his warmth. Hyunjin wrapped an arm around Jeongin’s shoulders, engulfing him in divine heat. This was nice, it was really, unbelievably nice. Jeongin moved to tuck his hands to his chest, reaching for as much warmness as possible. However, an abrupt yank on his wrist stopped him from getting comfier. He looked up and found Hyunjin glaring at the bandage on his palm, a half-attempted try Jeongin had made at properly covering his wounds from last night.

“What happened to your hands?” Hyunjin interrogated, inspecting one and then the other. They were wrapped equally as bad as each other, but the bandages hadn’t budged all day, so Jeongin thought he’d done a decent job.

“I was trying to climb a ladder in the dark,” he admitted. “It was broken, though, and I fell...”

“You fell? Did you hurt anywhere else?” Hyunjin questioned, taking Jeongin’s face in his hands to carefully look over the details on there, checking if anything was different.

“No, I’m fine,” Jeongin dismissed. He hoped Hyunjin couldn’t feel how hot his cheeks were as he held them. “Felix helped me. He was walking past when I did it.”

Hyunjin’s own face brightened at the mention of the new addition to the crew. “You met Felix? He’s adorable, isn’t he?”

Jeongin felt unnatural jealousy course through his veins. He had no right to feel envious that Hyunjin had complimented Felix, nor that he had smiled when he heard Felix’s name.

“I wouldn’t say adorable. He was nice, I guess.” There was a hint of misery in his tone. Barely there, the disappointment was, but evident enough that Hyunjin’s grin widened.

“Not as adorable as you, Innie. Never as adorable as you,” he flattered, squishing Jeongin’s cheeks in his hands to tease him. His smile was so big and beautiful, unrealistically endearing. Fuck, could Hyunjin be any more perfect?

“Can we just watch the movie?”

Jeongin was begging on the inside, feeling like he might just die if Hyunjin kept this up any longer.

“Whatever you want,” Hyunjin agreed. He freed Jeongin’s red hot face, going back to watching the movie. The film was well into the first ten minutes, the two of them completely missing the set up for the plot. That didn’t matter at all, not when Jeongin was preoccupied with his flushed face.

He was utterly infatuated.

-

The hotel had proven to be a relatively easy building to navigate once Felix had lived there for a few days. There were few places he needed to go on a regular basis, including the cafeteria, room 318, and Chan’s office, and today was no different in that aspect. He had been summoned to his boss’s office at a time that was dreadful for his homebody self, early enough in the day to still see the sun rising outside.

His sleepiness was evident in his sluggish movements, eyebags dark on his paled face. He’d managed to scrounge up the energy to throw on something presentable, throwing on his denim jacket over a white t-shirt and matching jeans. Very well, he understood he’d need new clothes eventually, especially now that he actually had money. Unfortunately, Felix had never had a chance to develop a sense of style. He wore what he could, he stole when the opportunity arose, but that was the extent of it.

He had clothes, not aesthetic or coordinated outfits. This was quite devastating when he thought about who he was going to meet this morning; Chan, who had been a dominating presence recently, and most definitely not in a bad way. Felix liked the ambiance that surrounded the leader, revelled in it, almost, like swimming in a pool of beautiful warmth. Chan had a manner about him that was professional, in control. The cologne he wore day in and day out only enhanced his naturally poised stature. Basically, he was fucking hot. And Felix was completely gripped, which was not ideal when Chan was his boss.

Felix tried his best to clear his mind of all thoughts, tried to find a sense of peace and quiet, as he walked to the elevator. It wasn’t late enough in the day to be fighting his inner demons yet; he yearned for a moment of tranquillity. He pressed the button for the second floor. The elevator doors boxed him in, shutting out the stressful world beyond its borders. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as his body sank against the mirrored wall. The journey from the third to the second floor was brief, unfortunately too short for any solace to properly settle in him.

He still had his inappropriate wonders intruding his mind when he stepped into the casino, still had them there with him when he trudged up to a door opposite to where the conference room was and still had them when Chan opened the door for him. They only worsened when Chan, once again, was presented as the height of sex appeal. Handsome face, animalistic stare, perfect hair brushed back to reveal his forehead, silky clothes.

Felix was positively obsessed.

“Good morning, Felix,” Chan greeted, permitting him to enter and take a seat. “I apologise for dragging you out of bed at this hour; there are just some things I need sorted immediately.”

Please, Felix thought, please say my name again.

Felix sat across from Chan, his back facing the closed door, a desk wedged between their bodies. The room had no windows, but the pale blue of the walls made it feel open and bigger than it actually was. The chair he sat in was soft, welcoming. This room, compared to the casino and meeting room, had an energy that made Felix feel comfortable. Not exactly relaxed, but like he was allowed to breathe in here.

Chan’s office was antithetical in comparison to Pi Yongmi’s office. The CEO’s was larger, dark wood furniture and black carpet, stark against the sterile white walls. Everything in Yongmi’s office was headache-inducing, harsh on the eyes and sore for the mind. The amount of time Felix had spent inside her office, either sitting behind her ready to be beckoned or standing by the door when she had visitors, was scary. He much preferred Chan’s office out of the two of them. But if he was being honest, he also preferred Chan out of the two, as well.

It wasn’t hard to choose favourites when one was a walking, talking wet dream and the other was a vile human being with selfish intentions.

“It’s fine. Why did you need to see me?” Felix asked, resting his hands in his lap and relaxing back into the seat. He watched Chan flip through some of the stacked papers on the desk between them, delicately picking out a few.

“I have some pictures here, photos of people I need identified. I was wondering if you could help me,” Chan explained.

He handed the sheets of paper over, all thick with the ink that painted them. Felix took them, eyes scanning over the many faces printed out before him. He quickly recognised most of the individuals on the front page, brows furrowing in concentration. Felix’s eyes shot over the desk, searching for a pen or something to label the people in the blank spaces beneath their photograph. His sight narrowed in on a black ink pen, taking it without bothering to ask, and beginning to write.

He was thankful that this didn’t require him to seek out his notebook, already having the knowledge of these faces on a mental file. There were people on these papers that he knew he’d met before, and knew their names, but also understood that if he let anyone else know he had that kind of information it would potentially put him in a tricky situation.

For instance, Pi Yongmi’s face was set in a corner on the second page, firm and lifeless as it always was. She was supposed to be an anonymous CEO, one that didn’t put a face to her name. Felix was curious as to how Chan had procured a photo of Yongmi in the first place. It could be inferred that Chan only had the faces of these people, but seeing his old boss’s face was nerve-wracking. If Chan could find all the employees and business partners, then who was to say he couldn’t discover Felix’s past, too.

After a minute or so of Felix going through and labelling, Chan quietly got up from his seat, seemingly impatient. Felix stopped writing, eyeing Chan as he rounded the desk and came to hover beside him. For a quick moment there, Felix was convinced he was going to be punished for taking so long, which was what Yongmi would’ve done. All Chan did was stand there, though. He appeared to be reading over the names, likely trying to connect any familiar ones with people he’d heard about.

Felix was more tense now, scrawling with a stiffness that was unnatural for him. He wondered if he felt this way because Chan was so close to him, or because his boss was so close to him. One made him feel hot in a very good way, and the other made him feel hot in a very bad way. With his head down, Felix could only see Chan in the corner of his sight. He was bending over him, heat radiating from his body and colliding with Felix’s own external warmth. The gentle caress of Chan’s breath brushed against the back of Felix’s neck, causing him to shiver.

“Are you cold?” Chan questioned, his words barely above a whisper. A simple ask, yet one that felt too revealing. There was a hint of amusement in his tone, almost taunting Felix in how he spoke. He’d seen the way Felix reacted to his presence, which was shameful, and Felix could only wish he hadn’t noticed how flushed his cheeks were.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” Felix replied, trying not to sound like he was completely thrown by the whole scenario. He was down to the last page when Chan shifted, moving to point at one of the men Felix had named. Subsequently, this position meant his boss’s chest was lightly touching his shoulder, leaning impossibly closer without actually overstepping a line.

“That’s Lee Chunso? You’re sure about that?” Chan sought confirmation, tapping a questioning finger over the inky face of the man he was speaking of. Indeed, it was Lee Chunso he was directing his attention to. Felix had sat in on meetings between Yongmi and Chunso twice in total, and both times they’d discussed investments regarding NOKC and what the Lee’s could do to support the company. Lee Chunso’s wife, Lee Hyejin, had been present as well, always there but hardly ever taking part in the talking.

With a confident nod, Felix said, “Yes, that’s him.”

He milled over the specific interest Chan had given to Lee Chunso of all the faces spread over the sheets. He’d only been a minor financial support to Next Of Kin Co., buying shares but never more than that. The time frame Felix had to ask passed by fast, and once he’d finalised his task, it was over.

Chan scooped the papers into his hands again, straightening up to flip through them where he stood. Felix looked up at him, eyes searching. He was looking for any signs that he’d fucked up or made a terrible attempt at what he’d been asked to do, any signs that would indicate he would be in trouble. The idea of getting into trouble with a leader like Chan was looking less and less possible, though. Chan hummed to himself thoughtfully, nodding as he skimmed over the labels. A smile tugged at his frown, turning his facial features into a pleased expression.

“I’m impressed with your work,” he commented. He looked down at Felix, letting a soft hand clap him on the back. The eye contact they shared then was as intense as could be expected from Chan, and Felix couldn’t find the strength or willpower to avert his gaze. “Good job, Felix. You’ve exceeded my expectations.”

Felix’s hands fell back into his lap, inconspicuously pulling his jacket to cover his legs as much as he could manage. The praises from Chan were toying with his sense of respect, encouraging his body to react in a way he scolded himself for. Chan’s melodic voice was a pleasure in his ears, but the remarks were sending Felix close to the edge. The hand on his back was another thing, so hot and right there, touching him with such care.

“Thank you,” he responded, bowing his head to hide the pink heating up his face. This was probably at the very top of his most embarrassing moments list, overtaking that time he had approached a patron at a strip club thinking they were a worker. Jisung was never going to let him live that down. Felix vowed not to ever tell his friend about this moment, or else it might be the only thing he talked about for the rest of Felix’s sorry little life.

“No, thank you. You can go enjoy some breakfast now, I’m sure you’re very hungry,” Chan said as a dismissal, finally moving away and letting Felix wallow in his irrational thoughts in peace.

Felix was hungry, that was for sure, just not in the way Chan was suggesting.

He shot to his feet, bowing before he left. The door shut behind him, but he couldn’t let himself breathe just yet. He crossed back over the casino, empty at this time of morning, headed directly for the elevator. Nobody was there to stop him, luckily, and no one was there to see the urgency in his step, either. The ride back to the second floor was agonising, the walk to his room even more so. Finally, however, he reached his bedroom and could relieve himself of the tension pooling in his lower stomach. If this kept up, Chan may very well be the death of him.

-

Chan was the epitome of perfection. He was everything to be looked up to, and everything about him was to be adored. He demanded respect without making others fear him, he stood tall and proud, he was a spectacle, he was everything. He was somebody people based gods on. Minho treasured every moment he spent in the presence of Chan, drinking him in like his life depended on it. He was a god-like deity to be worshipped and nothing less than that.

Minho adored the confidence he portrayed, and the absolute sensibility he had about everything in his work, his craft. The astounding dedication, control and beauty Chan had was a recipe for perfection. As far as Minho could tell, he wanted Chan like a thirsty animal craved water, but there was still lingering doubt after all these months of crushing over his boss. The doubt that he didn’t want Chan romantically but rather wanted to be him. To have any semblance of control in his life would be spectacular.

Then again, these feelings of being unsure were usually opposed by Minho’s body. During meetings or even simple conversations involving Chan, his body responded in a shameful way, digging his little big emotions deeper inside him and filling him wholly. It was painful to feel because he knew he could never have Chan.

From a young age, he knew he wasn’t allowed to have nice things. Even as he sat in the cafeteria he was all alone with his thoughts, unable to have a nice talk with anyone. He would never let himself get close with the others here at the Levanter Hostel. He couldn’t let himself get attached. He didn’t even enjoy the elevator ride down to the ground floor every morning. He was just grateful Hyori wasn’t one for conversation and hadn’t tried to hold him for a casual discussion. He could pass by Hyori without a word said, heading through the door on the left, straight to the cafeteria.

SKZ used to have an attendant who was unbearably cheerful in the mornings. She had a big grin on whenever she was in someone else’s company and was always up for a chat. Minho wasn’t a fan of her because of her extroverted personality, but he could tell she was one of the few well-intentioned people around these days. Still, he was happy he could pass through the lobby without unnecessarily jovial conversation.

And now, as he was half-way through eating his undeniably delectable cafeteria food alone, an acquaintance invited themselves to sit at the table with him. The room was bustling, it being the prime time for breakfast, so Seungmin must’ve dodged his way through the crowd to get to the small table near the back. Seungmin rather ungracefully planted himself on the chair across from Minho. There was no food with him, no juice or a glass of water either. Clearly, he was here specifically to speak with Minho, which was odd behaviour coming from a man like Seungmin. He wasn’t a recluse, per se, but he certainly wasn’t the personable type.

“Hello, Seungmin,” Minho greeted, as neutral as ever. He shooed off all thoughts about Chan, coming back to his senses as he looked over at Seungmin.

“What do you think about Felix?” Seungmin didn’t beat around the bush, he’d come here to Minho for a reason. It just wasn’t the reason Minho had expected.

Maybe Seungmin would approach him to learn more about the sinister inventions created by NOKC, all the sickening medicines or biological sciences. That was Minho’s area, after all. Seungmin had gone to him before about those things, an innate need to know everything crawling up on him at random moments. But to see Minho about recent additions to SKZ was something new. Minho immediately came to the conclusion that Seungmin already didn’t like Felix. He, himself, was suspicious of the newest member, but he couldn’t begin to imagine just how much Seungmin didn’t trust Felix’s intentions.

Seungmin was somewhat an anomaly, one who didn’t easily place faith in others. How he got into SKZ was beyond Minho’s knowledge, but then again, it was up to Chan. Felix, to Minho, was only competition. He would hate to confess why he was mentally competing against the newcomer, but he knew it was because he wanted Chan’s attention and currently, Felix was stealing that from him. He knew — knew very well — that Chan’s attention didn’t belong to him, but he couldn’t help but feel some sort of negative way about his employer being grabbed by Felix’s presence.

He settled for a shrug, realising he’d taken an uncomfortably long time to answer Seungmin. “I haven’t thought about Felix. Getting new members isn’t something unheard of.”

“I know, but all of the new members...” Seungmin hesitated; unusual coming from a man who was so set in his ways. “Jeongin, too. What do you think about him? You work the closest to him, so what’s he like?” He settled for.

Indeed, Minho worked in the laboratory with Jeongin on the daily. Yang Jeongin was an even bigger anomaly than Seungmin. He was unpredictable, which had proven to be a disturbance to the professional environment Minho had created in the basement. He’d also snatched up Hyunjin’s interests, which was quite an uncommon thing to occur.

Minho knew that no matter what he said, though, Seungmin had already made up his mind. Whether he said he loved or hated Jeongin — of which he felt neither, more indifferent on the matter than anything else — Seungmin wouldn’t change his mind. Chan had made the decision to let Jeongin join, so what did Minho’s opinion count for anyway.

“He gets the job done, that’s all I care about,” Minho told. He picked at his food, gently swishing the broth around in his bowl and watching the noodles bob up and down in the liquid.

“I don’t think we can trust them,” Seungmin stated firmly.

“Either of them?”

“None of them. There’s something about them both that doesn’t sit right with me. I thought you would agree?” Seungmin explained, a sour look on his face as he thought about the topic of discussion. He wore a frown, a very familiar expression to Minho, nearly glaring across the table.

“You don’t think that maybe you don’t trust them because you barely know them?” Minho proposed. He scooped some broth onto his soup spoon, sipping at it.

Seungmin’s expression fell flat, clearly not pleased that Minho wasn’t immediately agreeing with his perspective. Minho always thought it was weird that Seungmin thought everyone should blindly concur with him. It was a sign of someone spoiled as a kid and it irked him to no end. In his honest opinion kids shouldn’t be given everything they want, it just made them bratty and entitled, expectant.

“It’s not that,” Seungmin denied, too fast to be the truth. “There’s something that I can’t explain about Jeongin and Felix. They’re both... unreadable. But whatever, if you don’t agree with me, there’s no point speaking to you about it,” he brushed off, finished with the brief conversation.

He promptly left with no farewell, leaving Minho on his lonesome once more. Minho didn’t care right now. He didn’t care for Seungmin’s abruptness, or the newest members of the gang, or how lonely he was. If Seungmin wanted to find someone that would agree with him, then he’d have to keep looking. If Chan said that Felix and Jeongin were part of the team, then that was how Minho would treat them. Though he didn’t blindly trust the newcomers, he did blindly trust Chan, because he had proven himself trustworthy. And if he could believe in Chan, then he wouldn’t feel so lonely anyway.

-

The hushed sound of murmuring could be heard originating from the far end of the basement, intertwined with small bouts of giggling that was muffled by the distance between Seungmin and whoever else was down here. He was already peeved by his earlier talk with Minho, and when he heard multiple voices echoing through the concrete room, he slowly grew more annoyed.

Minho being indifferent to the appearance of SKZ’s new members was partially expected, but Seungmin thought he would at least try to sway the man’s opinions. Unfortunately, Minho was adamant. However, Seungmin could be more stubborn when he wished to be, which was exactly why he was in the laboratory in the first place.

He listened to the disgustingly noticeable sound of mouths against each other, a ball of ire stirring in his stomach. He had his suspicions as to what was going on beyond the concealment of the tall, metal shelves. What confirmed these was the sight he came across when walking past one of the aisles. The distinct view of Yang Jeongin pressed up against an empty shelf, fully clothed thankfully, but with Hyunjin practically eating his face. They were unaware of Seungmin’s presence. Seungmin cleared his throat obnoxiously, disrupting the moment the two were having. They pulled away from each other, but Hyunjin didn’t ease up on his grip around Jeongin’s waist, clinging to his body like he owned it.

“Hi there,” Hyunjin said, smug as ever. He put on a mocking frown, knowing it would get on Seungmin’s nerves. “Something the matter?”

“You have work to do, Hyunjin,” Seungmin reminded, wanting him out of there and away from Jeongin. As much as Hyunjin was a bother, that didn’t mean Seungmin despised him at all. It wasn’t that he particularly liked him, but at least he knew where Hyunjin stood and what his intentions were. Despite his moral compass being haywire, Hyunjin was consistent.

Jeongin, though, Seungmin didn’t trust one bit. He was all over the place and was an outlier, and one that couldn’t be predicted or contained. Even the shock on his face right now was weird, having been so content with himself the few other interactions Seungmin had had with him. Jeongin was untrustworthy. Seungmin had nothing to back it up other than a strong gut feeling, but he knew it.

Hyunjin turned to face Jeongin again, pressing a sickly-sweet kiss to his forehead and promising to see him again later. Seungmin thought that Hyunjin should have been banned from the lab the second it (more specifically Jeongin) started distracting him from his work. Hyunjin sent a flirtatious wink to Jeongin before he left, causing a bright red to spread across his face. Jeongin very obviously held back a smile, coughing a little to cover it up. Now that Hyunjin was gone, it left just Seungmin and the man he suspected couldn’t be trusted.

“If you’re looking for Minho, I haven’t seen him today. He might be down soon, though,” Jeongin informed, straightening out his clothes. He shuffled to sit down on a crate positioned at the nearest end of the aisle, Seungmin cautiously following. Seungmin remained standing, not that there was anywhere to sit in here anyway.

“He’s in the cafeteria. I came here to see you, actually,” he said.

Jeongin was confused. His movements to pick up a notebook off the ground wavered, digesting what had just been voiced. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Seungmin repeated. “I don’t think you and Hyunjin being so close is a good idea.” He crossed his arms, adjusting to lean on one leg. He observed Jeongin’s face turn from lovey-dovey embarrassment to irritated quite suddenly. This change was precisely what he was talking about when he said he didn’t trust Jeongin’s unpredictability.

“Is this coming from Chan or from you? Because if it’s not coming from Chan, I’ll tell you right now that you have no say in what Hyunjin or I do in our spare time,” Jeongin stated sternly. His eyes were dark as he looked up at Seungmin, face screwed up in a scowl.

“I just don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into with Hyunjin. He’s not a reliable person when it comes to romance.” This was a fact. Hyunjin’s past affairs had been extremely brief and were continuously centred on fucking around and mischief. It was clear as day that Hyunjin wasn’t one for spending idle time with a partner, sitting around and enjoying each other’s company. He was in relationships for the sex and the fun, and there was nothing more to it; Seungmin had seen it with his own eyes. Jeongin and Hyunjin weren't meant for each other.

“And how would you know? Have you ever dated him?”

Seungmin shivered at just the thought of it. “No, but I’ve seen him in relationships. He gets obsessed with a shiny, new thing that he can play with for a while and then ditches it the second he gets bored. Have you noticed that about him yet?”

“Your opinion on Hyunjin doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t know what you get out of sabotaging a relationship that isn’t yours, but you can get out of here with that,” Jeongin rebuked. He began flipping through his book, putting on a calm front. Seungmin could nearly see the steam coming from Jeongin, red hot with anger. The instant switch up was exactly the reason why Jeongin and Hyunjin could never be together. Jeongin was volatile and Hyunjin thrived on the randomness as a means of having fun. It was for his own personal enjoyment.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Yang Jeongin,” Seungmin scoffed.

Jeongin glowered up at him.

“Fuck off, Seungmin. Go bother someone else, I’m busy,” he spat. His eyes flickered back down to the page he’d flipped to, setting the notebook on top of his thighs for balance.

“You just wait. You’ll believe me soon enough,” Seungmin said, getting the last word in before he spun on his heel with the intention to leave. He wasn’t getting his way today and it was really starting to pick at his last nerve. He was ready to leave the while building so he wouldn’t have to put up with the other people that lived here.

“Shut up!” Jeongin shouted abruptly. Seungmin felt something small and hard hit the back of his head, flinching as it was an unexpected impact. He looked at the ground, finding the pen Jeongin was holding just a second ago clatter onto the concrete floor, rolling a little before stilling. Now Seungmin was mad, too.

“You’re not good for Hyunjin, either, you know,” he hissed, venom in his words. “You’re fucking erratic.” It was then that he left, unwilling to put up with Jeongin — or anybody — any longer. Hyunjin and Jeongin were going to tear each other apart from the inside and Seungmin was the only one who could see that. If no one would agree with him now, then he would just have to be patient and wait for it to happen.

-

Standing in Chan’s office felt homely in a fashion that Felix found to be unexplainable. He felt like he could fall asleep in here if he was exhausted enough, with something as soft as the carpet plenty to bring him to sleep and something as calming as the painted walls all he’d need to be lulled to sleep. His muscles weren’t tense like they used to get in Yongmi’s office, and his breathing was steady — even and relaxed.

It was just himself and Chan in the room, a position he felt rather nervous being in for the sole factor that his employer was attractive. Felix sunk into the cushioned chair across from Chan, arms lazing against the armrests in a way that he hoped didn’t look awkward; he always wanted to impress the other man. Hearing praise spill from Chan’s lips was like heaven on earth.

The day was easing into the afternoon, grey clouds shielding the little warmth the sun produced at this time of year. He was convinced that the world would freeze over in his lifetime at the rate the temperature was lowering in winter, or even that the ocean would steam and disappear in summertime. The weather only seemed to work in extremes, which was unbearable on days like today when the snow outside wasn’t soft-looking but rather looked closer to a hellish white blanket suffocating the land.

He was glad to be inside, in the comfort of an artificially heated room with the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to go anywhere outside. He soaked in the warmness and bathed in the peace of mind it brought with it. Thank goodness for central heating systems, or else the human race would’ve died off decades ago.

“So, Felix,” Chan spoke, drawing Felix’s attention right back to him — not that it had ever really left. “We’ve discussed payments and my expectations of you, but there’s another thing I wanted to speak with you about regarding your actual role within SKZ. At the moment, you’re only really needed when called upon. I want you in a more fixed position, so I’ve invited someone here to mentor you.”

“Mentor me? For what?” Felix inquired, habitually tilting his head to the side. His mind ran through a hundred possibilities relating to what he could need a model for and what that might entail. He contemplated what role he could possibly be assigned to in the gang, wondering about the different jobs that were available to him.

He tried to read Chan on this, too, to pick him apart and see what could be found underneath the mask he wore. He was straight-faced, the easiness he had not a minute ago fading into seriousness. Felix disliked it when Chan was professional to the degree of unmoving firmness, the state being too reminiscent of how Yongmi presented herself. Beneath the mask, Felix could notice something brewing, something Chan didn’t want others to see just yet. It was there though, something currently indecipherable but Felix could tell that was because Chan was unsure of it. He was trying to hide it, but Felix could see it. He just needed to figure out what it was and why it needed to be veiled.

“I’ve come to the conclusion that, yes, your knowledge on inner-city people is valuable, but putting that knowledge to use would be beneficial to SKZ. So, I’ve decided to appoint you to be a runner. It’s not an official title, but it sums up what you’ll be doing,” Chan explained.

His eyes were aimed towards Felix like he could hear his inner monologue. It was like he knew all the unspoken questions wanting to be asked, preparing to answer them before they could leave Felix’s mouth.

“To put it in a very shortened way: you’ll be going out and keeping an eye on the people you know about. Collecting information, helping keep them in check, making sure we get every little drop of information we can squeeze out of them,” Chan continued. An amused lilt weaved into his tone when he spoke next, “You won’t be going alone, it would be stupid of me to put you in a potentially dangerous situation like that. You’ll need to put those communication skills to good use.”

Chan winked — winked — at Felix, like they were sharing an inside joke. He knew what was being referred to; it was the first meeting the two had had together, not even two weeks ago, when Felix was trying to sell himself for this job. Knowing that Chan still remembered the humiliating first impression Felix had made of himself made him grow red.

“Yeah, of course, I’ll do that,” Felix replied, his voice weakening the more he thought about it.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Felix, I can see it all over your face,” Chan teased, that usual ease coming back momentarily as he cracked a smile. There it was, Felix thought, that thing that was supposed to be hidden right there in his grin. “It was cute.”

Felix short-circuited. Cute? Cute. He’d been called cute.

Chan thinks I’m cute?

His mouth hung open; stuck on words he couldn’t get out. He was stun locked by the simple statement, frozen at the notion that Chan found him anything other than a measly underling. Nothing was said after that, nothing needed to be exchanged because the moment was interrupted by a brief knock at the door. Felix snapped his mouth shut.

Chan beckoned the person inside, the temporary smugness wiping from his face the second they could hear the door handle turning. Felix was amazed at the total control Chan had over himself, it was genuinely impressive.

The man who walked into the room was one Felix recognised, but didn’t have a name to address to the face. He’d had a short encounter with him that one time at his unit and the man had been very fugitive, wanting to get out of there as soon as he could. The first thoughts Felix had about him was that he was strange. Unlike Changbin and Hyunjin who were willing to converse, this man hadn’t wished to talk to Felix longer than required. When they met eyes now, it was clear that the man hadn’t been expecting — or been particularly happy to see — Felix here. His expression soured almost immediately.

This is my mentor? Felix milled, displeased by the revelation. He didn’t have a mentor for his last job, not that he needed one when Yongmi was constantly peering over his shoulder and tracking his every move. He didn’t need someone to guide him because he knew when he fucked up — Yongmi made sure he knew. She was harsh compared to Chan, more violent and vile. Felix brushed off the thought.

“Seungmin, I’m so glad you could join us. Come take a seat,” Chan welcomed, motioning towards the spare chair beside Felix. Begrudgingly, Seungmin took the seat, just sitting as opposed to settling into it. He seemed stiff.

“Let’s get straight to the point: Felix and Seungmin, I’m making you work partners.” Seungmin opened his mouth to object but was stopped when Chan held up a hand to silence him. “I don’t want to hear it. Felix, you know people and Seungmin, you know places. You also know how to get people to give us what we need. You two will work together and you will not complain about it. Understand?”

Felix was quick to nod his head, Seungmin falling in tow, albeit reluctantly.

“Seungmin, I expect you to teach Felix the ropes on how you operate and the other things that are required when you do what I ask. He needs training. Teach him the city, teach him how to protect himself, and if anything else arises, teach him how to handle it,” Chan instructed, listing off what he needed from Seungmin. Then, he turned his eyes to Felix, who was listening intently. “Felix, I expect you to listen to Seungmin.”

Felix tried not to make the glance he took too obvious, doing a quick scan of Seungmin and his reaction. He was surprisingly composed for somebody who was utterly furious.

“So, he’s my lackey,” Seungmin clarified.

“He’s your partner,” Chan rejected.

“But I’m teaching him everything and he has to listen to me.”

“You’re working together because you both answer to me.”

The tension between Chan and Seungmin was palpable, Felix’s gaze flicking between them to see who would make the next move. There was a distinct stubbornness they both displayed, butting heads because Seungmin wanted to be right but at the end of the day Chan was the boss — Chan was in control.

He can control me all he likes, Felix honoured, eyes lingering on Chan’s strict facial expression just a little longer than needed. They dragged down to the hands clasped together on the table in front of him, strong and firm, and Felix thought about all the things he would let those hands do to him if given the chance. He bit his lip, getting distracted by mental images of Chan pinning him to a mattress, his tongue and lips all over Felix’s bare skin, his beautiful voice uttering Felix’s name like a hymn.

His sight snagged on Chan’s own eyes when he found them to be staring right back at him — more specifically at the lip caught between his teeth. It was quick, barely lasting a second, but Felix saw the look that flashed in Chan’s gaze.

God, he wished Seungmin wasn’t in the room. He might’ve had that opportunity he so longed for. He was supposed to be concentrating on the meeting, but he was still stuck on the fact Chan had called him cute. His mind saw flashes of naked skin and mingling tongues and much more, fantasies that involved himself and his boss. He knew he was screwed; he enjoyed Chan’s darkened gaze too much.

“If we’re finished here, you can leave, Seungmin. Felix can start working with you tomorrow, so you can both come and see me in the morning, got it?” Chan finalised, leaving no room for complaint.

“Sure, whatever,” Seungmin grumbled, promptly getting up and walking out. The door shut loudly behind him, like a child slamming it closed after not getting what they wanted. That left Felix and Chan in the room with tension still hanging in the air and Felix still watching him keenly. Chan slowly stood from his seat, stalking over to Felix with an unreadable look on his face. He leaned against the edge of the desk beside Felix, turning his body so they were facing each other (more like Felix was looking up at a Chan that was far too close for his liking).

Chan crossed his arms, his muscles flexing subtly under the fabric of his shirt.

“If he steps out line, you have every right to tell me about it, okay? He might seem like he’s being ridiculous, but he is very good at his job. I want you two to get along,” Chan said, his tone softer now it was just the pair of them. That smile crawled back onto his lips. “And Felix, you need to pay attention in meetings. If you want to talk about what’s distracting you, I’m right here to help.”

And then the fucker winked again.

Felix felt breathless; completely taken aback by the insinuation Chan was making. His jaw threatened to drop again.

“Uh, well— I’m just thinking about everything,” he fibbed, rushing the words out so he wouldn’t struggle on them for long. “So much happening all at the same time, you know?”

Chan hummed but was still smirking. He wasn’t believing a single word that came out of Felix’s lying mouth, not in this case. He rested a hand on Felix’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, the heat from his hand seeping through the material of Felix’s jumper.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Felix,” he promised, staring at Felix below him for a moment longer than necessary. Felix saw his eyes travel swiftly to his mouth and back up again before he slunk away, removing his touch and attention simultaneously. Tomorrow, Felix knew, tomorrow he’d get that same attentiveness again. He would just need to be patient.

—

The scene was familiar, with Felix and Seungmin sitting across from Chan in his office, the room illuminated by the warm glow of the overhead light. It was too early in the morning and Chan was trying his darnedest not to get caught up in the flawless beauty that was Felix, seeing as he’d done plenty of that the day before. It wasn’t his fault that Felix was giving him that look of hunger, of clear craving for Chan and anything he would give.

Soon, Chan had vowed, soon he would make a big move that would force Felix to either act on what he so obviously wanted, or to shy away from it. Nothing too drastic, but definitely something that was enough that his own intentions were opaque and out for Felix to view. Because, although Felix possessed the yearning for Chan, Chan wanted it more.

He’d made the first move yesterday by closing in on Felix, making it known by both of them that if something were to happen between them, then Chan wouldn’t be opposed to it. The ball was in Felix’s court, but that didn’t assure Chan that he wouldn’t avoid it like a noxious gas. Felix was wary, that was plain and simple, so it was up to himself to push him that little bit further.

He hungered for Felix like a predator yearned for its prey, on the verge of quivering at how desperately he needed his thirst quenched. As of right now, he could do nothing but prowl and teeter on the edge of Felix’s boundaries, lurking, waiting until he could go in for the attack. He would never hurt the intriguing, freckled man, but he would devote himself to swallowing Felix down in the way he so deserved to be. He’d drink him down and provide for him everything he ever needed; Chan wanted to keep him in a cage and protect him from the world. But, as much as he wished for that, he knew better.

Felix would have to acclimatise himself to the dark world they lived in, no matter how much Chan preferred the idea of Felix staying locked up and safe forever.

His mind was full of conflicting thoughts, wanting to take care of Felix as much as he wanted to fucking ruin him. It was a hazard that he’d let the man in so suddenly — so easily straight into his head, too. This pretty boy with alluring eyes had weaselled himself into the cracks of Chan’s mind, consuming him from the inside and threatening to take over completely. He was supposed to be professional; he was supposed to be the one standing tall and in charge. He was meant to be a model for his employees and how they should act responsibly. Felix, however, was making it so fucking difficult for him to behave.

He cleared his throat, trying to play off the lingering look he sent to Felix now, unfortunately very aware of Seungmin’s stony presence. He shuffled the papers on his desk around, neatening up the table for no other reason than to distract his body. He despised being the boss sometimes, wishing he could just kick Seungmin out and take Felix right here.

“Seeing as you two are partners now,” he began, “I’m giving you your tasks together.”

His decision to make Felix and Seungmin work with each other wasn’t one he’d made lightly. Seungmin didn’t trust new people and it had been made transparent that he especially didn’t trust Felix. However, it just so happened that his speciality aligned perfectly with Felix’s, proving them to be a potentially valuable duo to have working together.

Felix knew people and Seungmin had street smarts — beyond that, he knew how to get under people’s skin. This skill was particularly useful when accounting for the line of work they were in. His job was to keep track of possible threats and shoot them down before they became larger ones, to blackmail those who’d prefer SKZ taken down. His job was important, and he was darn good at it.

“I have the face of a man here who I need to find information on. I need a name, address, and anything on any significant family members he has.” He slid a photograph across the desktop, placing it between the pair of men. He then brought his hands together, intertwining his fingers and resting his elbows on the table, thinking over what he already knew of the stranger printed on the page. “From what I understand, he’s a solicitor working behind the scenes at NOKC, keeping them out of the eye of the public and settling any disputes against the company. Seungmin—” Chan steadied his gaze on the man “—I want to know how much this guy is actually doing for NOKC and if he’ll be a threat if we’re faced with him in the future. Scare him a bit, show Felix how you work. And Felix...”

Oh, Felix. That wonderful look of pure heedfulness overtaking his face again, like he hung on Chan’s every word as if his life depended on it. He never seemed to be distracted when Chan addressed him directly, which was rather amusing.

“...do what you do best, too. You help Seungmin dig into this guy, and then Seungmin can teach you the rest, understand?”

Seungmin was a vital part of SKZ, but that didn’t mean he had no flaws. Like many of those who joined into the gang, he had fallacious morals and faults about him that could definitely make him hard to work with. At his worst, Seungmin could be dogmatic, and if he didn’t trust Felix, then he might feel inclined to prove there was reason to it. He could snoop, he could force the words out of Felix’s mouth if he wished for that, he could do worse.

So, God help him if he laid a finger on Felix. Chan might just kill him.

-

Jeongin felt like a student with Hyunjin around, like he was being taught the ins and outs of how to be in a relationship. He wanted to be taught everything; he wanted to do everything with Hyunjin. He wanted to be able to hold him without shame and to talk to him without worry, like all the movies illustrated. Hyunjin was the teacher and so far, he’d shown Jeongin what it was like to hold hands, to cuddle, to kiss.

Jeongin had shamelessly melted into their first kiss, initiated by Hyunjin, discovering this new form of connection was actually really fucking amazing and not nearly as hard as he thought it was going to be. Kissing Hyunjin was easy, especially when he was always looking at Jeongin like he wanted to absolutely devour him.

He knew Hyunjin had an aura of possessiveness surrounding him at all times, but instead of finding it intimidating, Jeongin found it rather flattering. That urge Hyunjin had to protect him at all costs was charming because nobody had ever done that for him before.

Relationships were a new thing, as was showing affection, as was his change in occupation. He loved what Hyunjin taught him, and he was finding himself very much thriving in his career. He liked accompanying Minho in the laboratory, working towards uncovering some of NOKC’s darkest secrets about the products they put out.

At first it was only the Next Of Kin tests, but they weren’t the root cause of the Genetic War that had ensued all those years ago. What really kicked off the societal decline and subsequent collapse of South Korea was the Trial Generation.

The Trial Generation was a range of experiments which aimed to artificially grow and birth the perfect human, all studies set out by NOKC and definitely not approved by law. These investigations were done in secret, with scientists corrupted by the promise of money leading the way to something people had never thought would even work.

Jeongin was bitter-sweet about the fact the experiments actually worked because, on one side of things, if they hadn’t have worked to bring new life, then the unethical studies probably would’ve stopped. However, on the other side of things, if they hadn’t have worked out in the end, then Jeongin wouldn’t be alive. As much as he hated telling people, he was one of the fifty children born in the Trial Generation.

He had yet to tell this to Hyunjin, who he believed would be more than accepting, because it was an aspect about himself that was hard to explain. The news had reported the accomplishments of the Trial Generation and all the discoveries it brought with it, however, failed to mention the horrors of what happened to Jeongin and the other children.

Sure, Jeongin was born with the gift of naturally high intelligence and maybe his looks could be accounted for, too, but he had so many downsides about his identity that he didn’t care for those few nice things. He hated feeling like he was outcast all the time, he hated having other people expect so much from him, he hated the memories of growing up and living as a science experiment.

How could he explain this to Hyunjin without outwardly saying he just hated himself?

These thoughts were consuming him a lot recently, more so when Hyunjin was by his side keeping him company. It felt like an impossible weight on his shoulders, an obligation. Hyunjin was his boyfriend, he should be able to tell him everything, right? That’s what Hyunjin reassured him all the time; that Jeongin could trust him with anything and everything.

“Innie,” Hyunjin interrupted softly, moving to lay beside Jeongin on the bed. They were in Jeongin’s room, lounging in the warmth while they had the chance, seeing as they’d both been caught up in their jobs recently. Jeongin had a textbook opened in front of him, laying on his stomach as he tried to read through it.

He turned his head to look at Hyunjin, who gazed up at him, head resting next to the splayed book. A cigarette hung between his lips, grey tendrils wafting up into the air and leaving a smoky haze throughout the room. As long as Hyunjin disabled the fire alarm, and it wouldn’t interfere with his reading Jeongin didn’t care about the smoke.

“Yeah?”

Hyunjin took a drag, blowing the inhaled smoke out away from Jeongin’s face. He held the cigarette between two fingers, holding it away for a moment.

“You’ve been staring at the same page for five minutes,” he said. “Are you bored?”

He gently brushed the hair out of Jeongin’s face, caressing his cheek with light fingertips. Jeongin savoured the touch but huffed out a sigh and snapped the textbook shut.

“No; I can’t focus.”

“What’s on your mind? You can tell me,” Hyunjin said, yet again assuring Jeongin of the exact thing he was just thinking about. His hand dropped, resting on his stomach as he continued to gaze at Jeongin like he was the only important person in the world. Jeongin wanted to be looked at like that for hours.

“I don’t know,” Jeongin replied, not really answering the posed question.

He felt an overwhelming flood of sadness overcome him when he realised he really didn’t know why telling Hyunjin about his past was stressing him so much. He folded his arms over the mattress, moving the hard cover book out of the way. His head fell into his arms, hiding the tears that were suddenly welling in his eyes.

“Innie, what’s the matter, baby?” Hyunjin’s hand made its way to card through Jeongin’s hair, his body shifting on the bed beside him. “We can go out for a drink if you need to de-stress from work. I’ll get you some more lollipops if that’s what you really want. Let me know what you need.”

He needed to find a way to talk to Hyunjin about the biggest event of his life, but Hyunjin couldn’t give him that. Jeongin had to figure this out on his own. It was stressful trying to do the mental gymnastics to get to building the courage to bring this up. Stress built inside him and soon, he could feel his eyelashes getting damp when tears started falling slowly, his shoulders shaking with nervous tension.

What was he supposed to do?

“I don’t know,” he repeated, voice muffled by his thick jumper and the fact he was practically speaking into a blanket. He could feel Hyunjin’s fingers in his hair, carefully playing with the soft strands, comforting him. Jeongin lifted his head enough to pull himself onto Hyunjin’s front, cuddling into him because he wanted him.

His presence had become the rock Jeongin needed to balance himself with, one that could be easily depended on. His smell, of burnt tobacco and a luxurious cologne, his warm touch, everything about Hyunjin was consistent. He was a juxtaposition of Jeongin and everything he needed in a person, but had never had before.

Jeongin quietly cried into Hyunjin’s shoulder, feeling his boyfriend wrap his arm around him.

Hyunjin stayed silent for a moment, giving Jeongin the time to calm down and release all the abrupt emotion he required. He felt every time Hyunjin took a drag of his cigarette, eventually moving to stub it out on the ashtray sitting on the bedside table. Jeongin held on tightly, knowing if he loosened his hold Hyunjin would go back to asking questions he didn’t want to answer.

“I don’t know, Hyunjin. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Jeongin muttered, knowing what he was saying was a lie. He knew exactly what was wrong with him, he just didn’t want to tell Hyunjin yet.

-

This was a risky move to make in the presence of Seungmin, but he needed to do it. Taking his notebook with him to the rendezvous to refer to his notes was dangerous, yet he knew it had to be done so he didn’t fuck up his information. The only thing he could think of that was worse than being around Seungmin without Chan’s presence nearby was telling Seungmin something wrong and misleading him.

If that happened and Seungmin figured him out, then it would be like he was confirming Seungmin’s glaring suspicions that Felix wasn’t worth their time. Felix couldn’t be seen as incompetent; he had to be useful so he could stay around long enough to exact his revenge on Next Of Kin Co.

Consequently, bringing the notebook was the only rational option he had. The contents of said book included facts on Im Sangjun, the solicitor they were supposed to be looking into. He was a 39-year-old man who hadn’t always had the occupation he now did, having taught law for years before he ever became a lawyer.

There was also an address from four years ago, but Felix took his chances, and it seemed to lead him and his work partner to the right place. A dodgy apartment in the nicer part of the inner city, which was difficult to slip two people into unnoticed. It had taken Seungmin showing Felix a back entry that required some ladder climbing and camera dodging to get inside safely.

Felix had met Sangjun once, not directly, but rather he’d seen the man when he was sent off to the side while attending a conference with Yongmi. Sangjun was the kind of person whose face aged fairly quickly, while his body stayed relatively youthful. He was in shape the last time Felix had seen him, but he looked about ten years older when only taking his face into account.

What wasn’t in the notebook was the knowledge that Sangjun had a taste for beer and started work at eight o’clock these days. Felix found this out from the mess of green, glass bottles scattered over most surfaces of his unscaled apartment while doing a walk through at half past eight in the morning. It was easy enough to figure out what the state of Sangjun’s home meant.

He was a raging alcoholic.

When Felix pointed this out to Seungmin, he was returned with a glare that read no shit, Sherlock. Felix brushed the acidity of the look off, thinking about what kind of person had an alcohol addiction and worked as a surprisingly successful lawyer at the same time. Someone with everything to gain, he considered, or someone with everything to lose?

Seungmin strode ahead, an air of stiffness in the way he held himself. Felix trailed behind with his eyes peeled, surveying the tacky stains on the marble counter tops and the dishes piled up in and around the sink. The walls were discoloured, a greasy off-white, whereas some places were a scuffed white. Cigarette butts littered corners of the spacious living-dining area, a potent scent of smoke and liquor hanging in the air.

He was a smoker, too.

Felix spotted a half-empty pack of cigarettes left out on the bench, hidden between a forest of bottles and tin cap shrubbery. A lime-coloured lighter sat idly on top of the cardboard packet, eye-catching and terribly tempting. The pretty sheen of the spark wheel, silver and glinting in the dim light streaming through half-drawn curtains in the living space.

His eyes flicked over to Seungmin, who had his back turned and was flipping through what appeared to be a folder of some kind. They were meant to be searching for anything that would indicate who Sangjun’s family was and where they were. Chan emphasised the importance of knowing his close family, so they were focussing on that, seeing as they’d already found his apartment.

They were supposed to be scouring the rooms for photographs, electronics that looked to be Sangjun’s personal devices, anything documenting children, partners, parents or cousins of any sort. Even a simple name or face would take them places. Noting that Seungmin was busy doing what they were here for, Felix could probably get away with taking a cigarette for himself.

He felt the looming jab of the notebook’s corners in his stomach where he had the bound papers shoved under his shirt. The subsequent reaction that washed over him when thinking about the book was enough for his nerves to feel heightened, and he was reaching for the cigarettes in no time.

He slid a singular stick from the packet, placing it between his lips and snatching up the lighter. He lit the end of it, taking a deep inhale to get it burning properly. The click of the lighter caught Seungmin’s attention, prompting him to whip his head to Felix in time to catch the first exhale of smoke leaving his mouth. His frown deepened (somehow).

“Why are you smoking in here?”

Felix stole another drag, shrugging in reply. He didn’t see this as much of a problem; it wasn’t like the police could use DNA testing to link the invasion back to them anyway, so what did it matter? Also, the walls were already stained with years of tobacco residue, leaving a permanent smell of it stale in the air. There shouldn’t be an issue with him having a smoke.

He could feel the nicotine quelling his nerves already and found himself not regretting this decision whatsoever. He continued on his path when Seungmin made no further comments, heading for the corridor where, presumably, the bedroom would be. If Felix knew anything about people, it was that their prized possessions were always either on them, or in their bedroom.

A person’s bedroom told many stories. Framed photographs showed what people valued, hung clothes implied time in a person’s day to do chores, and how tidy or untidy it was spoke volumes in how much the individual regarded the space they slept in.

A mostly clean area with hung clothes and framed family photos told Felix of a person who was respectful to themselves and loved their family. A room with no posters, pictures, or illustrations, no decorations or a single clothing item on the floor let Felix know the person was hardly ever home in the first place. Or that they didn’t feel comfortable enough to live with themselves.

A room like Im Sangjun’s, however, detailed a life of self-pity and low esteem, anger at the world and the people in it. Because in Sangjun’s bedroom, clothes were strewn everywhere, unwashed, there were no signs of photographs, no signs of good health. The scent was a gross musk, stuffy with dust, stale beer and a putrid smell that seemed like there’d been an attempt made to remove it.

The blinds were shut, a few of the metallic panes bent after a clear attack had been made on them. There was a hole in the wall next to the bed’s headboard, which was wooden and richly elegant, and out of place in an apartment like this one. It was harder to see in here, cold with how dark it was. Felix shivered when he stepped inside, a feeling akin to dread shuddering down his back like an electric poison.

Blankets spilled over the edge of the mattress, draping onto the floor like if a willow tree was also a miserable alcoholic. The silky pattern on the sheets was admittedly beautiful, but the stains that disturbed the intricate floral details made it hard for Felix to want to touch them. More bottles were in here, though less than in the living-dining area.

He rounded the end of the bed, eyes searching the ground for anything that could be promising. His gaze landed on the corner of a box that was badly hidden underneath the bedframe, immediately drawn to it. The cigarette in his hand was placed back into his mouth, just carefully, before he reached down and pulled the weighted box out.

Two things happened at once then. One was that the notebook, which had once been snugly tucked into his waistband, slipped from it and landed on the wood flooring. And two was that Seungmin appeared behind him, peering over his shoulder to check what he was up to.

Felix felt his heart drop; hands already moving to try and swipe the notebook back up. His fingers fumbled, trying to draw Seungmin’s eyes to the box while simultaneously attempting to re-hide his book.

“What’s that?” Seungmin asked in that miffed tone he ordinarily used, kneeling beside where Felix was crouched.

“What? The box?” Felix said, averting the other man’s focus as best as he could. Seungmin’s firm fingers started reaching for the one item Felix didn’t want them to.

“No, the notebook,” he stated, wanting to take it from Felix’s grasp.

Felix understood it was a mistake to tighten his hold on the book to stop Seungmin from snatching it up. He understood more than anything that when Seungmin glared at him for hindering his movements he was in trouble. Seungmin obviously noticed the way his face dropped into an expression of silent panic when he tried taking the notebook, only pressing him to then rip it from Felix’s hand.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He can’t see that!

Felix’s mind was going into overdrive as he watched Seungmin stand up and open the notebook to the first page. He skimmed over the first couple pages, reading the words to himself. He then flipped over to the next few pages, brows furrowing, eyes scanning the scribbles more rapidly.

“Is this yours?” Seungmin interrogated, facing Felix, who still knelt on the ground.

The cigarette was instantly forgotten about as Felix tried to conjure up a lie on the spot, with a million thoughts passing through his head. He went to answer, to defend himself, to explain that the notebook was the only thing keeping him in the gang and his only chance to avenge Ana. He wanted to say that there was no way he could just give it up to SKZ, that it was too important.

No words came out. His mouth hung loosely around the smoke in preparation, but nothing went past his lips.

“I fucking knew you were hiding something,” Seungmin hissed, closing the troublesome notebook shut with a snap. He grabbed Felix by the shirt and hauled him to his feet, the box abandoned on the floor. “Anything else you’re not telling us, Felix?”

“I can explain,” Felix rushed out.

“Explain to Chan, then. I don’t want to hear it,” Seungmin said, already shoving Felix back out of the apartment.

They hadn’t even found what they needed and now Seungmin knew about the notebook. Felix was fucked.

—

His palms met the surface of Chan’s desk, catching himself before he could stumble to the ground. Felix had been thrown into the room by uncaring hands, and he could hear the door slam shut behind him. Chan’s face read one of displeasure, made unhappy by the lack of knocking and rude interruption to his workflow.

Felix heard the smack of his notebook as it landed on the desktop in front of Chan, on display for the three who were in the office. Felix flinched when a harsh hand grabbed his shoulder, holding him in place and ensuring he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Felix has been hiding this from you,” Seungmin got out before anyone else could utter a sound.

His boss gave Felix a questioning look, only to be returned with pure guilt expressed on his face. Chan picked up the book, turning over its pages and inspecting the contents with curiosity. Felix could only observe, remaining quiet so he wouldn’t sell anything else out about himself, seeing as there were far worse things that Seungmin didn’t know about yet.

Felix felt the edge of the chair back against the front of his thighs, digging into his skin, but he couldn’t do anything beside shuffle from one foot to the next right now. Seungmin wasn’t allowing him to leave any time soon — had escorted him the whole way back to the Levanter Hostel — and he couldn’t go without explaining himself.

After a tense moment of Chan reading and nobody saying anything, he finally put the notebook back down on the table, expressionless eyes settling on the pair who’d just entered. Felix felt dread overwhelm him, making him feel heavy and light-headed at the same time. He was waiting for a beating. He was anticipating having his skin torn off his muscles, his hair yanked from his scalp, violence.

That’s what Yongmi would’ve done. She would have had one of her bulky henchmen stop by Felix’s house and beat him senseless if he’d done this to her. She’d have led him to her own office one day, not saying a word the whole way, then pulled out a mallet and cracked his face open, had he done something like this.

Felix was waiting to be bruised so badly he would look like overripe fruit. He waited for Chan to make the call that Seungmin could finally have Felix’s head after so obviously wanting it since the beginning. He was patient while Chan considered what his eventual demise would be.

He waited.

Chan sighed, bringing a hand up to massage his temple like this was causing him more grief than anything. He slid the notebook back towards Felix with such casualty that Felix praised his acting skills. Felix really wished he had that cigarette he’d had to leave back at Sangjun’s apartment, craving the calmness that nicotine brought him. This was too nerve-wracking.

“Is this the only reason you barged into my office while I’m busy?” Chan asked, speaking to Seungmin directly.

“Yes. You don’t think it’s suspicious that he would keep a notebook with all that information from you? You’re the boss,” Seungmin put into perspective. He seemed taken aback that, once again, somebody was disagreeing with him. Felix didn’t blame him this time, though, finding himself puzzled by the lack of concern on Chan’s behalf.

“I am the boss, which is why I’m confused about why I need to know where Felix keeps his information? It makes sense that he’s got a record of everything he learned from his sister.” Chan shrugged and Felix felt sick. “Unless you’re worried that it’s not a sustainable record and you want to fix that, then I don’t need you in my office.”

Felix thought he might just gag at how shocked he was by the neutrality Chan exhibited. Or, even, Felix thought that he wanted to gag on something else entirely that also involved Chan.

His new boss was so unbelievably different to his previous one, in all the best ways, too. Chan was professional and rational, and Felix found it to be inconceivable but so fucking attractive. He expected to be mercilessly killed off or brutalised, but instead he was met with a man who had a strong moral compass in spite of his line of work.

“What?!” Seungmin exclaimed, his hand leaving Felix’s shoulder in favour of slamming down onto the tabletop in a fist. He was furious, that was plain to see, his body trembling with how tense he was.

“Get out, Seungmin. You and I will talk later,” Chan dismissed with a single, powerful wave of his hand. But Seungmin didn’t budge just yet.

“He keeps hiding things from you and you have no problem with that at all?” He questioned, ignoring the fact that Felix was also in the room with them.

“I’ll talk with Felix once you go. We can speak later,” Chan reiterated with sternness in his voice. It worked because, with a great huff, Seungmin did leave, taking with him only his shattered pride.

Felix stared at Chan, speechless after that interaction. He wanted him, he needed him so bad. He needed to get on his knees and reward Chan for everything he’d done for Felix just now, had to show him that it was appreciated. Felix could give Chan any and everything he asked for, if only he would ask.

“Felix, I want you to come here.” Chan gestured for Felix to go over to him rather than to take a seat, pushing his chair back enough that he could face him front-on. There was a shift in the environment once it was just the two of them again, alone with each other.

There was a look in Chan’s eyes that were enough to cause a stir somewhere deep inside Felix’s body, steps becoming wary as he got close. His heart beat rapidly as Chan suddenly took his hands in his own, running gentle thumbs over the soft skin.

“I sincerely apologise for Seungmin’s behaviour. He’s very superstitious when it comes to new hires,” Chan said, the steadiness in his tone unusually forced. He was looking deep into Felix’s eyes and that was the moment he tugged the man ever so slightly closer. Felix settled between Chan’s spread legs, surprised by the domesticity of their position, not that he was complaining.

“But let’s discuss Seungmin at a different time, okay? There’s something else I’ve been meaning to speak to you about,” Chan diverted the conversation. He let go of one of Felix’s hands, dragging his fingers slowly up and down his arm, soothing him. Fuck, did he know what he was doing to Felix? Did he know that Felix was sucked into that enchanting smirk like a moth drawn to a flame?

“What is it?” Felix asked, the words coming out in an accidental whisper.

“I wanted to talk about us.”

Felix faltered, blinking dumbly at Chan like he’d heard it wrong. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions when he heard the word “us”, immediately thinking of a couple, as in two people together in a relationship. They weren’t in a relationship, that would be so weird, right?

“Us?”

Felix felt Chan’s arms snake around his waist and trap him there, holding him closer than they’d ever been before.

“Why don’t you tell me to back off?” Chan inquired, testing Felix on something. “Why don’t you tell me that this is inappropriate for the workplace? Why not, Felix?”

Felix was at a loss for words, feeling as turned on as he was intimidated and slightly muddled by the situation. He couldn’t help but remember how Chan had called him cute, had winked at him and gently teased him for blushing in embarrassment.

“I don’t want to,” he uttered, resting his hands on Chan’s shoulders.

“You don’t want to tell me to back off?” Chan said, smiling now. “Do you like it when I do this? You like it when I hold you?”

He wasn’t real. He couldn’t be real; he was too perfect to be a tangible being. Felix must’ve hallucinated this whole thing because there was absolutely no way that Chan was so appealing.

“Yes, I like it.” And I want more.

“Do you want more, Felix?”

“Yes, yes I want more,” he murmured greedily, ready to beg for any grain of more that Chan was willing to give him. He wanted to be held by him, to be touched and wrecked by him, he wanted so much from him. He’d plead if he was told to.

Chan hummed, his eyes looking carefully over Felix’s face like he was searching for any hesitation or falsehood. Neither were present, and once he deduced that, he hoisted Felix up onto his lap, lifting him like he weighed nothing. Felix was now straddling him, looking impossibly deeply into his eyes and waiting for permission to touch him further.

He gripped the fabric of Chan’s shirt lightly, feeling the cool material between his fingers, using it to ground himself. Chan stayed there, perched all handsome and tempting. His hands gripped Felix’s thighs, testing the new boundaries that’d been set between them. His devilish gaze scanned over Felix’s flushed face, a small smirk coming over his own face.

“Do you like this, too, Felix? Like me controlling you while you sit there, nice and pretty?”

Oh, fuck.

“Mm, I like it a lot.” Felix tried holding back the moan that wanted to spill out of his mouth, wetting his lips with his tongue, craving another pair of lips on them.

“Do you want me to lead?” Chan offered, voice gravelly with evident lust.

“Please.”

Felix let himself be pulled into a feverish kiss, his grasp tightening around Chan’s button-up, holding on to make sure he wouldn’t pull away. He tasted as delicious as he looked right now, hot and sweet on Felix’s tongue. Oh, how he’d yearned for this. Kissing his boss was even better than his imagination could fantasise about, everything perfect beyond what his brain could fathom.

He finally let out a groan against Chan’s mouth when he felt the other grind up into him, the noise swallowed down by Chan, himself. He felt the hands on his thighs slide around to his ass, squeezing when they landed on the plumpness.

“More, more,” Felix whined, his voice sounding desperate between deep kisses.

“So impatient,” Chan hummed as his hands reached under the soft cotton of Felix’s long-sleeve shirt. He dug his dull nails into the bare skin, grabbing to keep Felix still as he rolled their bodies against each other, doing exactly as he was asked to.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me? You’re gonna listen to me?”

“Yes,” Felix vowed breathlessly, “yes, I’ll be good for you. I’ll listen.”

Chan mouthed at Felix’s neck, and said against his skin, “Then don’t fucking stop.”

Felix held back a whine as he felt Chan begin to suck at the flesh below his collarbone, grinding harder into his crotch. The motions were needy, like they’d both been craving this for eons. Something primal was taking over Felix’s body, hands grasping onto Chan’s shoulders to stabilise himself as he pushed up against him. He decided he needed to hear the pleasure rise from Chan’s throat, and he rolled his body slowly, deep, eliciting a beautiful groan from Chan’s throat.

Fuck, he could come like this; just the two of them dry humping in Chan’s office, Chan nipping at his neck. He could feel Chan’s hard cock against his own, separated by fabric made to protect them against the harsh winter. This was the most action he’d had in a while, and he could feel himself edging closer and closer to climax.

A desperate keen left his mouth, encouraging Chan to grind deeper. Felix’s hips stuttered as he rode the other and Chan’s fingers dug into his waist, holding him rough to pull him back down again. Lips were back on his, Chan breathing in each of Felix’s little noises like they were his lifeblood.

“Ah, f-fuck,” Felix whimpered, feeling a build-up inside him. His eyes fluttered shut as he finally came, a dampness filling his boxers as he drove out the high that came with his orgasm. His chest was heaving as he caught his breath again, realising he was clutching onto Chan for dear life.

“So impatient,” Chan repeated with mirth, his grip on Felix’s body easing up now. He chuckled, pressing gentle kisses along Felix’s jaw before trailing them to his lips again. He planted one more firm peck to Felix’s mouth, taking in his blissfully tired expression.

Felix didn’t know if he’d ever recover from this, realising after a moment that he’d just orgasmed after dry humping his boss. And now he would need to walk out of the office, and through the entire casino and hotel with a wet patch on the front of his trousers, just to get to his room to change into something clean.

“I didn’t mean to... so quickly,” Felix puffed, falling into Chan to support his suddenly exhausted body.

“Was I that good?”

Uh, fucking yes, yes you were, Felix thought, but didn’t say it out loud for fear it would come off too strong. He did nod, however, just as an open-ended answer.

“You were so good, too,” Chan praised with that gorgeous voice of his, pressing a kiss to the top of Felix’s head. A deep red blush crept across Felix’s face, something that was becoming quite common when Chan was around. “I’ll go get you some clean clothes, all right? You stay here.”

It was shocking, honestly, that Chan could keep his own composure when he was still turned on and had Felix flustered beyond his wildest dreams. He had barely broken a sweat, only the subtle heaviness in his breathing giving away what they had just gotten up to. He was acting as a wall holding Felix up, too, a surprising feat after their little event.

Felix took that as a sign to get off the other’s lap, walking around and falling limply into one of the other chairs. Chan sent him a wink as he left the room, sporting a rather noticeable hard-on as he went. In his euphoric and stunned state, Felix promised himself that he would return the favour of making Chan climax one day, one day very soon.

Chan returned with a reusable bag, presumably containing underwear and pants that Felix needed after their heated interaction. He took the bag graciously, taking the clothing out and pausing, coming to the realisation that he would have to change in here — in front of Chan.

“Turn around,” he instructed, directing the action with his hand.

Chan raised a brow, almost laughing at the absurdity of the command. “After all that, you don’t want me to see you half naked?”

Felix’s facial expression turned coy, and his eyes glanced at the floor, overdramatically bashful in the way he stared over at Chan.

“If you turn around, maybe another day you could see me fully naked,” he offered flirtatiously, his confidence coming back to him once realising he wasn’t in any trouble after what happened with Seungmin. The notebook which had caused such a stir still sat on the desk, and Felix reminded himself to take it back on his way out.

His implication seemed to persuade Chan to face the opposite wall, unapologetic in the way he made it obvious he wanted to see Felix naked. Felix took this chance to quickly change out of his dirtied boxers and pants and into a fresh set, stuffing the old ones into the bag. It was only then that he told Chan he was allowed to look again.

Chan’s eyes ran over Felix, taking in him wearing Chan’s own clothes, which was a uniquely couple-y thing to be happening. He sauntered up to Felix, wrapping his arms around his waist and hugging him gently. He ignored the bag knocking against their legs in favour of presenting Felix with a kiss, rough and possessive.

This one was still as hot and desperate as the other ones they’d shared together, not careful and sweet like Felix had experienced in the past. Felix felt Chan’s hand in his hair, holding him in place for the duration of the fierce kiss. It didn’t last long, much to Felix’s displeasure, but they stood like that for a moment, gazing into one another’s eyes like they were looking into infinity.

“You should get some rest,” Chan suggested in a breathless whisper, like speaking too loudly would disrupt the moment. “You’ll need to go back to Im Sangjun’s apartment again tomorrow; I still need that information I asked you and Seungmin to find. I’ll talk to Seungmin later today about how he gets along — or doesn’t get along — with people. I apologise again for his behaviour.”

“That’s fine,” Felix assured, a sudden feeling of foreboding balling in his stomach at the reminder that he did, in fact, still have a job to do. He relished this moment with just himself and Chan alone, in each other’s arms, knowing that reality would come crawling back once he left the room.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOUR: DESIRE IN THE FACE OF DANGER

And I want your pyro, your born-again virgin
Your hands on my insides, your fingertips crawling

The smell of Sangjun's home didn't get any better the second time Felix entered, still as smoky, damp and stale as the day before. One would think that being able to afford an apartment like this would also mean he could afford a cleaner, but apparently not. There was no telling which bottles, and cigarette butts were new and which ones were old.

The digital clock on Felix's phone displayed a time not much later than the hour they'd been here yesterday, figuring it would be safe enough to re-enter at a similar time. There was no sun to filter through the curtains or blinds on an overcast and gloomy day like this one. Seungmin was using his own phone's flashlight to find a path through the piles of rubbish, which Felix also had to utilise as his own device didn't have a torch.

If they could, they'd use the room lights. Unfortunately, there were apps these days that allowed people to track their electricity usage to help calculate costs, but it also meant that if intruders (like themselves) needed a light, they were out of luck unless they used their own. So, the pair were stuck with the beam that originated from Seungmin's cell phone.

Felix noticed earlier that Seungmin seemed less argumentative today, likely due to Chan's disciplinary meeting with him yesterday afternoon. Felix didn't know what they'd spoken about regarding Seungmin's behaviour, but it had obviously worked in his favour. Seungmin didn't mention the notebook or accuse Felix of anything. Chan must've gotten through to him.

However, Felix was still on edge about the whole ordeal; something about the way Seungmin's silence feeling more forced than natural today was causing him minor disturbance. He decided to ignore the tension between them, knowing Chan was on his side in this and feeling relaxed by that thought.

Felix's legs wandered in the direction of Sangjun's bedroom again, finding the route familiar. That box under the solicitor's bed hadn't been checked yet and he needed to have peace of mind over the matter, wanting to know if it was of any significance at all. If he could just take a look and evaluate the importance of its contents, then he could remove it from his thoughts.

Seungmin was off in the bathroom, scavenging through the cupboards in search of anything that could be helpful, so Felix was at a loss for lighting. He had to squint through the dimness to see anything, struggling to rediscover the box for a moment. His hands blindly reached under the bed, feeling around a bit before eventually touching the smooth cardboard edge he'd been looking for.

He slid the box out from beneath the slats supporting the mattress, noticing its weight now that he didn't have the pressure of keeping the notebook hidden. Chan had advised he keep the notebook in his hostel room, explaining the possibility of it falling into the wrong hands if he dropped it while outside. Felix had stuffed it into a place he prayed it wouldn't be found.

Finally, he had the opportunity to lift the lid off the box, revealing what was inside. His eyes skimmed over folders and loose sheets of paper, scanning the words on the pages that were directly exposed to him.

Jackpot.

"Hey, Seungmin, come here!" He called out, summoning the man he'd come here with. They needed to get photos of this, and he knew that nothing he had on him was of any use, so he needed his partner in here.

Seungmin entered, flashlight pointed at the ground just in front him so save himself from tripping on anything.

"What?"

Felix took out the first page he'd seen, holding it up for Seungmin to look at as he approached him. He could only make out the soft outline of Seungmin's face, seeing his dark irises move back and forth as he read over what he was being shown.

"They're Im Sangjun's Next Of Kin results," Felix spelled out, proud of himself for his discovery. He turned back to the box, letting Seungmin take the paper from him to properly look over the details of the lawyer's entire family tree.

Next Of Kin results were popular a couple decades ago, being the main factor in NOKC's growth as a business. On a well set-out summary sheet, NOKC could tell a person their family tree dating back as far as six generations from one simple saliva swab. Luckily for these partners in crime, Sangjun's results told them precisely what they needed to know about him: his immediate family.

Im Sangjun was father to two daughters and, according to the paper dating back seven years ago, he was married to a woman named Taeran. As Felix dug further into the box, he realised that DNA test results were certainly not the only interesting thing in there. He managed to dig two wedding rings from the bottom of the stack of folders, connecting the dots in his head.

Sangjun was a heavy drinker and smoker, but levels of addiction like this didn't start from nothing. He was married seven years ago but, according to the rings buried in this container, had gotten divorced since then. The likelihood Im Sangjun had spiralled into alcoholism because of the heartbreak of divorce definitely made sense; it wouldn't be the first case in the world.

"We need photos," Felix stated, "but I don't have a camera."

Seungmin looked about a split second away from rolling his eyes but clearly refrained and instead shoved his phone in Felix's direction, motioning for him to take it. Seungmin then reached deep into his coat pocket and pulled out a surprisingly vintage-looking camera. This model was one from the late 2010's, as boldly stated on the side of it, small in size and black in colour. Felix wondered where he'd even come across something like this.

Seungmin placed the sheet of results flat on the ground and Felix aimed the torch at it so its printed words were intelligible to the eye. The camera was then adjusted to get the whole page in frame, Seungmin silently snapping a picture. They did this for the next few papers that were of interest, Felix holding the light and Seungmin taking the photos.

What Felix found curious was that one of the folders in the box contained restraining orders. Two from his daughters and one from his ex-wife, stating they were protection orders against harassment. How can a solicitor end up with three restraining orders against him? Felix wondered.

Even more fascinating was the rehabilitation program receipts that dated back eight years ago, displaying payments made by (formerly) Im Taeran to her then husband, Im Sangjun. Felix referred this new-found information back to his prior conclusions about Sangjun's drinking problem, rewriting the narrative he'd created in his head.

Sangjun hadn't had a divorce that led to a drinking problem, he had, however, had a drinking problem that led to a divorce. And, subsequently, it had been bad enough that he now had three orders against him seeing his closest family.

This was a breakthrough.

"He isn't allowed to see his family," Felix pointed out, placing the restraining orders in front of Seungmin on the floor. He laid them out neatly, waiting for a picture to be taken before returning them to their respective places.

"I got that," Seungmin said shortly. He busied himself with the photo-snapping, not attempting to make further conversation.

Felix could go for another cigarette if he had to put up with Seungmin and his disgust towards decency any longer. Surely Seungmin could do this by himself while Felix went searching again (realistically, all he'd find would be a pack of smokes). It was fine yesterday; it would be fine today. Plus, Felix had already seen everything he needed to see in the box anyway, so there was no more investigating that had to be done.

"I'm gonna have another look in the living room," he told, handing Seungmin his phone again. He was given a suspicious look, but nothing was said on the matter, so he took it as a sign it'd be okay to leave. Seungmin probably wanted them to be in separate rooms.

Felix made his way through the low-key lighting, nearly tripping on his path out of the bedroom. He turned away from the lounge room, headed for the kitchen where he'd seen the cigarettes yesterday and squinting to look for them.

He'd started smoking back when Ana had introduced him to the concept, sneaking one or two of his sister's when she wasn't around to tell him off. He was thirteen at the time, older than most when he first lit a cigarette and took a puff. They used to make him feel sick, but at some point, in his teenage years he'd begun to crave the taste of tobacco. There was no turning back after that.

Over the years, he'd had to reduce his usage due to his restricted availability of cigarettes. He could hardly ever afford them, and they were, unfortunately, one of the harder things to steal from a store. He was lucky to have a smoke two days in a row, the scent and flavour reminding him why he'd gotten hooked in the past.

He had money now, so maybe he'd invest in his own packet sometime soon.

His feet took him to the kitchen bench, fingers cautiously searching the surface of it for the item he was yearning for. Like the touch of heaven in box form, his fingertips brushed against recognisable flimsy packaging, immediately picking it up. After closer inspection, he found this to be exactly what he needed.

He placed one of the cancer sticks between his lips again, the action familiar, discovering the lighter not far from where the packet had been sitting. The flame of the lighter burnt the end of the smoke and, on instinct, Felix inhaled deeply. The thick air filled his lungs.

The items he'd taken were put back down and he chose to lean against the edge of the counter. Felix's eyes had adjusted to the darkness now, taking in the absolute mess of the place. For someone like himself, without much knowledge on how to maintain a place at all, his houses had never been this untidy. What kind of mental state caused this?

Across the kitchen and living room, the front entrance stood ajar, still open to let himself and Seungmin back out when they needed. And then, it suddenly wasn't pulled-to anymore, instead swung open with a man standing in the doorway.

Fuck. Sangjun was home.

They met eyes, smoke drifting in the distance between their bodies. The grey tendrils were the only movement for a second, and then Sangjun's face morphed into one of fury.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house?"

Run, run, he thought, get out of here.

"Uh... borrowing a cigarette?" He made up, knowing that not a word from his mouth sounded believable.

Sangjun stepped into the room, slamming the door closed behind him, trapping Felix in here. The keys he was holding were thrown on the short table by the door, and he used the same hand to dig into the inner pocket of his jacket. Felix froze when Sangjun revealed a gun from his jacket, aiming it straight towards him from across the two rooms.

"Who are you?" Sangjun questioned, firmness in his tone that suggested to Felix he was not playing around with that gun. Felix sighed in relief; thankful he hadn't been recognised. The solicitor started walking closer to Felix, cornering him in the kitchen.

"No one," Felix lied, warily stubbing out the cigarette he'd been enjoying. He raised his arms to show he would be of no harm.

"Who sent you?"

This close, he realised the sheer height difference between them, as well as the stark contrast in build. Felix had endurance, sure, but there was no strength on his muscles after not consistently exercising for so many years. Whereas Sangjun clearly went to the gym and had built strength in his limbs, evident in the bulkiness of his frame.

Felix would have a chance in running away, but if it came down to hand-to-hand combat, then he was screwed. He hoped Seungmin would at least get away unharmed, because who knew if he'd step in to help Felix.

"Nobody sent me. I just needed money, and I knew you wouldn't be here," he fibbed again, having lived this story so many times before. He didn't tend to break into apartments or houses, opting for shops and the like because they were easier to access and had guaranteed items.

"Likely story," Sangjun said sarcastically, standing by the edge of where the kitchen tile met the floorboards. "Strip."

Felix took a second to register what he'd just been commanded to do.

"What?"

"I said strip. Show me you're not wired," Sangjun ordered again, persistent.

Now would be a really good time for Seungmin to show his hidden protective side or something, or even if Seungmin just barged in with a weapon and started threatening the solicitor.

With great caution, Felix took his jumper off and dropped it on the ground, wincing at the knowledge that it would sticky once he retrieved it. The gun didn't waver, so he pulled his arms through his shirt sleeves and took that off, too. Now he was completely shirtless. He found it ironic that he didn't want to strip in front of Chan yesterday, yet here he was doing exactly that for a man he wasn't even attracted to.

It was freezing inside, he noticed very early on once he'd removed his layers of warmth. His muscles tensed, cold.

"See: I'm not wired," he tried, not willing to get any more naked than he already was.

"Pants," Sangjun demanded, gesturing towards Felix's legs with the barrel of the weapon.

"You're cruel.”

"Hurry up!" He was truly unforgiving.

Fucking Christ, Felix thought, waiting impatiently for Seungmin to appear any time now. There was no way he couldn't hear what was happening in the living-dining area, the place was too confined for that.

Reluctantly, Felix kicked his shoes off and unbuttoned his pants, undoing the zip, too. He began pulling his trousers down, feeling the stiff air brush against the skin that was now out for the world to see. Without grace, he stepped out of his pants, balling his hands into fists at his side as his muscles tensed even more. He was shivering now, stripped down to only his underwear.

His eyes flickered over to the doorway that led to the bedroom, glancing over Sangjun's shoulder to find Seungmin standing there. In the split second it took Felix to spot Seungmin, he also managed to spot the camera still in his hold, pointing directly at Felix. A ghost of mirth hung over Seungmin's face as he very openly snapped a photo.

That little bitch, Felix cursed. He refocussed on the gun, swallowing down any rising fear.

"I told you—"

"Turn around," Sangjun ordered.

Felix wanted to glare at Seungmin, seeing him raise the camera again as he started spinning on his heel. He held back, not wanting to expose Seungmin before he could get help from him. Although, at this fucking rate, Seungmin was just going to take pictures of Felix's dead body and laugh at them later.

It was when Felix's back was turned that he felt something heavy make contact with the back of his head, presumably the gun. He lost balance and fell forward, his hands knocking over bottles on the bench as he tried to catch himself. Broken glass shards dug painfully into his palms, overtaking his thoughts registering the commotion happening behind him. He hissed, pushing himself off the bench and whipping back around.

Seungmin and Sangjun were in a tussle for the gun, and much to Felix's shock, Seungmin was dominating the fight. In the span of mere seconds, he'd seemed to have tackled Sangjun to the ground and was now trying his darnedest to wrestle the gun out of his grasp.

Felix was preoccupied by his own nakedness, brushing what he could of the glass from his hands and tugging his clothes back on in a rush. He threw on his pants and jumper, not bothering with his shoes or shirt, reasoning he could put them on when it was safer to.

In the meantime, Seungmin actually managed to snatch the gun from the lawyer and was now pointing it at him, heaving. He regained his footing, whereas Sangjun was still on the ground, groaning in pain. Felix hadn't seen what'd happened, but it was clearer than anything that Seungmin had undoubtedly won.

"We're leaving," Seungmin asserted, beginning to back away in the direction of the exit. Felix, in unbuttoned pants and socked feet, scurried the same way.

They went into the hall, closing the door on their way out. Seungmin tucked away the gun, unbothered by the fact he'd just stolen a very illegal weapon from someone who was clearly a paranoid alcoholic. They didn't need to speak at all to know they needed to get the fuck out of there, both hurrying down the length of the corridor and towards where they'd entered from.

The pair left the back way, not stopping until they were well out of sight of the building's security cameras. They could see their breath huffing out in front of their faces and Felix could not feel his toes any more. He was still shivering, equally as cold as he was shaken up by the nerve-wracking encounter.

He paused out the front of a high-end boutique and he realised he was shoeless in the middle of the inner city — a sight to behold. Seungmin halted as well, brows furrowed as he wondered why they'd stopped. They couldn't afford to draw too much attention. Passers-by eyed Felix, judging the clumsy way he shoved his runners back onto his feet.

"Did you get everything?" He asked Seungmin once his shoes were back on. They began their journey back to the train station where they'd come from.

"Most of it. We did leave something behind," Seungmin told, falling into step with Felix. They kept their heads down, Felix pulling his hood over to cover his head.

"What was it?"

Felix swore he caught a hint of smile on the other man's face when he glimpsed at him, but it vanished before he could bring it up.

"We forgot your dignity."

Oh, this fucking bastard.

"If you didn't take so long, maybe I would still have it," he grumbled, weaving through the overpopulated streets.

"Sure, whatever." Seungmin sounded weirdly close to laughing. Felix wanted so badly to punch him.

-

Like a duckling to its mother (which was an uncomfortable analogy for the pairing), Felix trailed along behind Seungmin for the most part of the day. They went back to the Levanter Hostel to print out the photographs they'd taken back at the dirty apartment, with Felix quietly following Seungmin everywhere he went.

He wasn't told to fuck off, but he also wasn't given any other instructions, so he did what Chan had said to do: work with Seungmin. As stiff as the air was between them, there was a noticeable shift in Seungmin's attitude and he (strangely) was bearable throughout the day. Felix was starting to think they'd just gotten off on the wrong foot.

They had just been to the lobby to copy over and print out the pictures that had been taken. Felix made the assumption that the photocopier down here was for general use. He followed Seungmin as he walked back towards the elevator, pondering what they'd do now that they had everything they needed to show Chan.

Seungmin's pace slowed to a halt, turning slightly to Felix with a thoughtful expression, thinking over something. Felix watched his eyes glance between the elevator and the cafeteria entrance, doing a kind of mental eenie-meenie-minie-mo to pick one of them. He settled on the cafeteria and changed his pathing, leading the two of them to the large dining area behind the front desk. They found a seat inside the expansive room.

Now sitting under the warm lights of the cafeteria, which was less busy than it was in the early mornings, Felix observed Seungmin as he laid the printed photos out on the table. He began to strategically sort them into small piles, ordering them in a way that Felix couldn't see from his seat across from him.

"What are you doing now?" Felix inquired, eyes flicking over the flat stacks of colourful paper. Seungmin didn't respond immediately, finishing up organising the pictures before he pointed to one of the end piles.

"These are the Next Of Kin results," he explained, not exactly answering the question but telling something, nonetheless. Then he moved his finger to point at the neighbouring stack. "These are the marriage and divorce documents, these are all the restraining orders, this is a picture of the wedding rings we found, these ones are the receipts from Im Sangjun's rehabilitation program..."

Seungmin picked up one of the thicker piles that hadn't been named yet, handing it over for Felix to take a look at. His eyes searched the papers, realising he hadn't had a chance to look at these ones back at the apartment. "And those are stolen court documents in relation to domestic abuse allegations made against him. They directly relate to the protection orders."

Felix scoffed, shocked at how ridiculous Im Sangjun had been for leaving all of this dirt in the one place for them to find. If Felix wasn't going by a fake name and had proof of his life beyond a birth certificate and occupational records, he wouldn't go around keeping his dirty laundry in one spot. That was just plain stupid.

Not only did Chan have everything he needed from them now, but Felix also had more information to add to his notebook. He wondered if there was a way to get a copy of these photographs, but left that thought aside for another day. He handed the piled back over, impressed with their findings today. Seungmin set the heap back where it had been on the wooden, square table.

Felix eyed the final unnamed pile of pictures, tilting his head curiously. "What are those photos?"

Seungmin's expression shifted, covering up the change with a sniff to brush it off. He glimpsed at Felix before handing the pile over to him, not-so casually crossing his arms over his chest. In his efforts not to react to this, Felix notices an awful lot of movement from him.

When Felix's eyes fell onto the front page of the stack, he frowned, not believing what he was looking at was true. He recognised that pale skin, the cheap denim pants, the off-brand underwear, all belonging to himself. The sheen of a handgun pointed at his half-naked body. No fucking way Seungmin had printed out these photos — no fucking way.

"What are these doing in here?" He questioned, fingers grasping the paper and wrinkling it a little. His hands threatened to tear and scrunch up the pictures into a meaningless fat ball, but he managed to retrain himself enough to wait for an explanation to this. Seungmin was more tame than yesterday, but he still achieved his goal of getting on Felix's last nerve.

"You don't think our boss would want to know that someone pointed a gun at one of his workers?" Seungmin shrugged, annoyingly nonchalant as ever. "I might not like you, but for some reason, Chan does. He's going to be pissed that this happened."

And he's also going to see me nearly naked! What about that doesn't make sense to you?

So that was Seungmin's excuse for wanting to embarrass Felix in front of their boss. He could have thought of something saner than this as a reason to exhibit photographs of Felix nearly completely naked to Chan, but apparently Seungmin didn't do sane. He was almost worse than that time Felix had run into Hyunjin in the elevator, soaked from head-to-toe in blood and looking like he'd just had the most normal day ever.

Felix still held on to the papers he didn't want shared, looking Seungmin up and down and trying to figure out where that camera had gone. There'd been no opportunity for him to put it away or hide it from Felix, so he likely still had it on him, tucked away in a pocket somewhere.

"Where's the camera?" He was going to permanently delete these photos and then burn the ones in his grasp. It was bad enough that Seungmin could go on to tell the humiliating story of how Felix, the newbie, couldn't defend himself and had to strip bare in the face of danger, but he didn't need proof to go with that.

"None of your business," Seungmin stated. "You're not getting rid of them."

When Felix worked at NOKC, he didn't have to put up with stubborn people like the man in front of him. This was mostly due to Yongmi not letting others speak to him unless specifically permitted to by herself, but that didn't defeat the fact that at least nobody irritating bothered him. Working here was another case entirely because, not only did he have to put up with Seungmin, but he also had to actively work with him.

Although, now that he actually thought about it, Felix could also argue that he had to work with Yongmi, too, and she was the definition of a nightmare. Seungmin was placid in comparison to Yongmi, less argumentative and controlling. However, that didn't mean he wasn't still fucking aggravating.

"We need to put this all in a file and then give it to Chan," Seungmin said, stacking each of the piles into one again, this time in a sensical order. He held his hand out, silently demanding the pictures Felix was still holding to be given back. He looked expectant, waiting to be handed what he wanted.

"You're not showing these photos to anyone," Felix told, staring the other down.

"Sure, whatever. Don't be ridiculous," Seungmin snarked thoughtlessly.

Felix didn't move, choosing instead to glare at Seungmin and not back down from this. He earned a frustrated sigh in return. Seungmin was unrelenting, which only encouraged Felix to stand his ground more, just to oppose the man across from him. He had quickly learned about the other man's natural stubbornness, so he thought it was about time Seungmin learned of his stubbornness.

"I'm serious."

"So am I," Seungmin asserted, any essence of humour gone completely now. His hand fisted into a ball, falling — near slamming — down on the table in a behavioural display of his annoyance. "Chan doesn't care about a little skin on show; don't be vain. He'll care that someone put a fucking gun to your head. You seriously don't understand that?"

"I'm not being vain," Felix denied, though he wasn't entirely convinced that was true. Perhaps it wasn't vanity as much as it was self-consciousness. "I'm showing dignity." He tried to say it with conviction. "You seriously don't understand that?"

He began balling up the papers in his hands, not caring for neatness when his intentions were to screw up the images as much as possible. He ignored the immediate hisses of profanity that left Seungmin's mouth, half demanding Felix stop doing that and half just wanting to insult the man for the sake of it.

In an abrupt motion, Seungmin tore the pages from Felix, snatching them back and unfolding them the first chance he got. He tried to flatten to pictures, but they were severely wrecked thanks to Felix's handiwork. The ink was scratched up, there were rips in the paper, it was below professional quality and therefore, Felix presumed, could not be shown to their boss. Just what he wanted.

Unfortunately, it was not what Seungmin wanted.

He was on his feet, smacking his palms down on the tabletop, one landing on the divorce papers and one planting firm on the Next Of Kin results. He glared down at Felix, looming over him and the short table. It didn't take a mastermind to know he was fucking angry.

"What is wrong with you?!"

Felix rose to his own feet, feeling pissed off about this, too. The fury was radiating potently in the air between them, the tension unbending no matter the efforts they put in to win whatever mental game they were playing.

"I'm not backing down on this, so deal with it," Felix taunted, feeling red-hot heat running through him like a wildfire.

"Deal with— I will fucking kill you!" Seungmin threatened, reaching forward to snatch up the front of Felix's shirt, the same one that had been stripped from him earlier.

Before he knew it, Felix was laughing bitterly, irking Seungmin and egging him on to do something he would later regret. He generally avoided conflict and knew he'd never win in a fistfight, especially against Seungmin, who had shown his physical abilities against an attacker. Yet, that wouldn't stop his nature of instigating a fight if he felt slighted.

"Try me, bitch."

And just when Felix thought they might get along, Seungmin was throwing him to the ground with the intention to hurt him. He landed flat on his back, being quickly reminded of that night the squatter broke in and had scuffled with him. Back then, Felix had had a weapon to help defend himself with, but it was a bit different now, in that he had absolutely no weapon and no upper hand in the situation.

Now that the pair were in a physical altercation, many of the few others in the cafeteria, other gang members, started paying attention to the scene unfolding. Felix couldn't get a glimpse of the onlookers before he felt a sharp pain shoot through the side of his face. His head whipped to the side and he instantly knew that his observations about Seungmin's strength were awfully accurate.

"Seungmin, get off him!" A shout from the scattered crowd shot through the air, but Felix had no time to focus on who it came from.

Even in the hostel, violence seemed to follow him. He didn't have to be far from his house for blood and brutality to come knocking, it seemed.

His arms flung up to cover his face in anticipation of another attack, protecting his head and all the importance that came with it. He waited for another fist to collide with his bony arms, or his gut, anything to injure him. But the second hit never came.

It appeared that, much like Jisung coming to his rescue when Ha Yeongsik had threatened to hurt him, someone had stepped in to defend Felix. He moved his arms away from his face slowly, peering up at what was now happening around him. He looked over at Seungmin, finding Changbin standing there between himself and his assailant. Changbin was furiously scolding Seungmin, yelling and breaking his usually tame composure.

"What is your problem, Seungmin? You can't go around throwing punches at your team mate! Have some sense," Changbin tore into him. He had a hand planted firmly against Seungmin's chest, preventing him from moving towards Felix again.

Felix took the chance to scramble to his feet, feeling off-balance now that his head was spinning from the assault. He gripped the edge of the table he was just sitting at, grounding his dizzy body to the best of his ability. He felt a warmth trickling down over his lips and lifted a hand up to dab at the sensation, pulling his fingers back to reveal the sight of blood.

Exactly how hard was he hit?

With all eyes on Seungmin getting reprimanded, Felix quickly, clumsily, crossed the length of the cafeteria and out into the lobby. A couple pairs of eyes watched him as he left, he could feel them on the back of his head, making his hair stand on end. He didn't care enough about those lingering gazes to confront anyone about it, though, choosing to journey back to his room where it was peaceful.

He practically stumbled into the elevator, watching the door slide closed. Silence engulfed him — beautiful, serene silence. He pressed the button for the right floor, taking a moment afterwards to process what the fuck just occurred.

Felix could only hang his head and mill over what this new gang lifestyle entailed, feeling a pang in his chest as he thought about how defenceless he was in this new world. He was still vexed by Seungmin's behaviour, but there was also a dash of hopelessness stirred into that emotion.

He couldn't defend himself if worst came to worst, and it seemed his means of work meant that he was in danger often. With nothing to help himself right now, he could only think,

Ana would be so disappointed.

—

Felix didn't want to be in Chan's office, not this time, not to talk about what had gone down between himself and Seungmin. This job was proving to be tougher than he'd initially expected and he, in all honesty, did not feel like disclosing that to his boss — Chan, more specifically.

Among the dangers of his work, Felix had landed himself in an odd predicament and he was starting to understand more why Jisung had avoided tying himself to a gang for so long. The situation he was in right now, what with Seungmin wanting to beat the life out of him and certain photographs still existing, was one he found sticky.

For him to explain himself and throw Seungmin in hot water (where he deserved to be), he'd have to tell Chan about the nature of the embarrassing moment that'd been captured on that damned camera.

Chan had already prompted him to answer, but Felix was sitting here in this familiar office chair, rubbing his sweaty palms together nervously. It was a rare occasion when Felix found himself speechless or unable to respond to a question, yet here he was, silent.

He sighed. His eyes locked with Chan's, or at least tried to, but he discovered the man's gaze to be preoccupied by the rest of his face. The flesh on his cheek had swelled by now, his skin discolouration alluding to future bruising. His nose had stopped bleeding, luckily, or else he might’ve appeared worse.

The pain had dulled, only worsening if the sore was prodded some. The shame which had arisen inside him hadn't lessened any amount, though, testing his original confidence. He should have been able to stand up against a threat like Seungmin, should've at least had the capability to try and fight back.

But he hadn't fought back, because he knew he would never win. Ana had taught him better than to cower; Ana had taught him better than to fall quiet when confronted with shame. He should've done better.

"Felix, come here," Chan ushered after a long moment of going unanswered. Of course, Felix obeyed and got up from his seat, like the hopeless man he was. He followed again when Chan pat his own thigh, motioning for him to perch himself there instead.

He placed himself in Chan's lap, sitting across his legs and leaning into him when invited to do so. He still had the same feeling of shyness as he'd had the first time he'd been in Chan's hold, light and fluttery in his stomach. Butterflies erupted again when Chan carded his fingers through Felix's hair, his soothing beautifully tender. Felix felt the hand in his hair trail down and softly grab the back of his neck, holding him there.

I still want your hands all over me.

Chan inspected Felix's face closer, using his free hand to move his head, checking all angles of the major skin irritation. He was careful not to accidentally brush the injury, which was really quite sweet of him considering the utter rage building in his expression. His mouth curled into an unmoving frown, a glint of something hazardous twinkling in his eye.

"I'm going to kill him."

"What?"

"I," Chan emphasised, "am going to kill him."

"He punched me 'cause he's pissy. You don't have to kill him," Felix said, suddenly perplexed by the circumstances he was facing.

Chan was being fully serious, not a hint of remorse for Seungmin or humour about the words he was speaking laced in his tone. As had been mentioned previously, Felix was not as attuned to violence as one might’ve thought, and certainly not violence brought about just because a brat was annoyed at him.

"Not Seungmin: Im Sangjun. I'm going to kill him for what he did to you."

"How do you..."

How do you know what he did? Felix wanted to ask, embarrassment rushing upward to heat his face at the mere idea of Chan finding out.

"I had a meeting with Seungmin before I called you in here," Chan told, apparently reading Felix's mind. He wrapped his arms around Felix's waist, a feeling he was starting to crave the closeness of. "He explained to me his side of the disagreement. Unfortunately, as much as I hate to say it, I do agree you should've shown me the photographs. I do not, however, agree to having my men fighting each other over such matters. You were both out of line."

Me too? Felix was out of line? For his only effort to defend himself against stronger forces, Felix was out of line. He was in disbelief at the statement, but it was guilt that crept up into the pit of his belly, shuddering through him as he realised he'd just made his first mistake in Chan's eyes. Did that mean Chan was going to kick him to the curb, or punish him, or finally hurt him?

Fuck, he hoped not. Chan was supposed to be different from Yongmi.

"But, I'm more irked by the photos themselves. Someone dared point a gun at one of my own — at you, nonetheless. Seungmin dared to take pictures of you in that moment instead of immediately defending his own. And worst of all—" Chan pulled their bodies closer together so they were chest-to-chest, teasing a kiss, "—you let Seungmin see you naked before me."

Felix sputtered, malfunctioning momentarily at the insinuation that he'd had a choice in the matter. He was about to protest the accusation but his disagreements were smothered by a rough pair of lips, kissing him, taking a claim of what Chan had of him. He melted into it, wrapping his arms around Chan's neck and savouring every little piece of the man that he was being given.

All prior thoughts about himself getting into trouble or being reprimanded for his evident mistake was lost somewhere in the blissful moment, stuck between thoughts of I want Chan to fuck me so hard right now and please, don't let this end. Chan was the baitholder and Felix was positively hooked.

It was as Felix shifted to straddle Chan, much like he'd done in the past, that Chan pulled away with a devious smirk on his face, replacing his earlier frown. Felix almost whined, wanting to return to the moment they'd just shared once more to get lost in it again.

"Seungmin can't have that, though," Chan mocked, referring to their kiss. Felix could feel his hands on his back, slowly, softly moving down to grasp at his behind. He gave it a squeeze and Felix could only bite his lip, anticipating more like last time. He didn't care how bruised up the side of his face was, he would take anything from Chan right here, right now.

"Seungmin can't have you," Chan murmured, pressing airy, teasing kisses to Felix's lips, a wild contrast to how they were eating each other's faces not a moment before. "Can I have you, Felix?"

Yes, yes you can. You can have any part of me, any way you want me. You can have me anytime and anywhere. Please, take me. Felix wanted to let everything out, desperation having a chokehold on him. Instead of letting out the crazed spillage filling his mind, he simply promised,

"All of me."

"Can I have all of you right now?" Chan whispered, inviting Felix to something he'd been longing for, for weeks now. He felt a hot hand trail down to his thigh, giving it an encouraging squeeze, provoking Felix to answer back in a low voice.

"Please."

And suddenly both Chan's hands were sliding under his thighs, lifting him as he stood up, then laying Felix back on the mostly clear desk. Pressed between the wooden surface and Chan's body, Felix had nowhere to go when Chan started pressing harsher kisses to his mouth, stealing away his every breath like he owned it. He loved it, loved giving into the control Chan had always possessed and letting the other do as he pleased with it.

Hands moved to pull Felix's jumper over his head, letting it fall to the ground. Felix kicked his shoes off. Next went his shirt, exposing his torso to Chan, who didn't take long to revel in the sight before he began to tongue beautifully at the skin showing. He started at the collarbones, journeying agonisingly slowly down until he reach just above Felix's waistband.

Chan then lifted his head, moving his hands to undo the button and zip that were in his way. Felix watched as his pants and boxers were stripped away, Chan between his legs, out in the open for him to take. Now it was Chan's turn to remove his own shirt, letting Felix see all of the shaped muscle beneath those tight-fitting shirts he usually wore.

Before continuing to take his clothes off, Chan bent down to search through the bottom drawer of his desk. Felix observed the way his muscular frame moved like that of a Greek God statue if it came to life, deeming himself way too lucky to be seeing this with his own eyes. Chan appeared to pick a few things out of the sliding drawer before returning to stand over a very horny Felix, a smirk on his face.

"I figured after last time, we might want something prepared in a case like this," he explained, holding up the items he'd retrieved. A slim, red and white bottle of lube and a condom were shown, and Felix couldn't tell if the idea of Chan preparing for this to happen was a smart move or just that he was really irresistible. Both smart and irresistible, if he was honest.

It didn't take long for Chan to open the rosy bottle and pour some of the pulpy liquid onto his slender fingers. He set the bottle aside at some point after that, Felix assumed, and he could only assume because he was abruptly distracted by the feeling of those slim fingers pushing into him. Felix could feel himself being thrusted into by a single digit, followed by another, and he had to grip onto Chan's shoulders to keep himself from going insane.

A loud moan made its way up his throat, but got muffled by Chan's other hand coming up to cover his mouth. The noise reverberated into Chan's palm, all the more explicit-sounding to the two men in the room. It had been so long since he'd last been fucked by someone, let alone someone as perfect as Chan; it was difficult for Felix to contain himself.

"Can't be too loud now, pretty boy; thin walls up here," Chan hushed. His statement was proven hypocritical, though, because he added another finger directly after, urging yet another lustful sound to escape from Felix as he came more and more undone right there on the desk. His feet were kicked up, legs bent and open with Chan between them.

After a moment of loosening him up, Chan then removed his lube-slicked fingers, fumbling to tug his pants down, bringing his underwear with them. With his mouth now free of any hand over it, Felix's heavy breathing could be heard in the room, anticipation gripping him as he watched Chan pull the condom over himself.

Then, Chan lined himself up, pushing in only a little, proceeding to lean right over Felix and murmur lowly into his ear, "Remember, quiet. Be a good boy for me."

It was Felix's turn to cover his own mouth when he finally felt Chan slowly starting to thrust into him, careful at first. The pace quickly picked up and Felix was a mess.

His eyes fluttered closed, panting beneath his palm, wanting to forget about the whole being quiet ordeal altogether. His mind blissfully cleared, too focused on the feeling of pleasure spreading through his body. Felix had to bite down on a finger in a desperate attempt to stop himself from making too much noise. Chan seemed very comfortable with the idea of whispering, though.

"So good, you're so good for me," he groaned into Felix's ear, his own breaths quickening as orgasm drew nearer. "Fuck, Felix, you're doing so good."

Felix keened in response, feeling Chan's lips back on his neck, right under his jaw. As he felt the rousing sensation of teeth gently sinking into the soft skin, Felix realised he was close again, overwhelmed by the electrifying buzz his body was feeling.

"More, more," he let out airily, dragging his hand away from his mouth. His begs were paid heed to and Chan became relentless, pushing Felix further and further. Felix took his hand now and carefully grabbed a fistful of Chan's hair, using it to stabilise himself as he threw his head back.

He didn't intend to, he really didn't, but the moment Felix reached that sensual high, he released a cut-off moan into the room. It wasn't too loud, but if the walls were as thin as Chan indicated they were, someone definitely would've heard him if they were close enough to the office. His care for the mishap vanished, however, when he felt Chan's hip stutter as he rode out his own orgasm.

They were sweaty, heaving messes for a minute, Chan still hovering over Felix, hands on either side of him on the desk's flat surface. Felix took in the view, admiring the way Chan's muscular build looked on top of him. He was so beyond belief at what had just happened between them — there was no way they'd just fucked.

But we did. And it was so fucking good.

Chan pulled out, the feeling of it causing Felix to shiver due to his current sensitivity. He watched the other roll the full condom off, tie it up, and dispose of it in a small bin concealed beneath the table. Using tissues which sat on one end of the wide desk, Chan worked to clean himself up. When Felix also reached for the tissue box, it was snatched away from him, and could only look at Chan, confused.

"I'll get to you in a second," he explained. He replaced the tissues when Felix backed his hand away, lying it over his stomach instead.

As promised, once his pants were pulled up again, buttoned and all, Chan moved to clean up Felix's mess, as well. He got to picking up all the discarded items of clothing afterwards, ushering for Felix to sit up on the edge of the desk. As sore as he was from the interaction, Felix listened, hanging his legs over the side of the table and sitting upright.

And then, something unexpected happened. Perhaps Felix should've seen the thoughtful action coming, considering it was Chan doing it. Yet, it still surprised him when Chan began to dress him again, tugging his shirt, jumper and bottoms back on. Redressing him was a weirdly intimate thing to be doing when taking into account the lack of title in their relationship.

They weren't boyfriends or anything; could they even be boyfriends in these circumstances? As far as Felix was concerned, they were just messing around purely because they shared a particular interest for each other. But, he wondered, was it possible for them to be more?

Better yet, did Felix want to be in a relationship with the leader of a criminal enterprise, especially one who he was still hiding such a massive secret from? It was a bad idea, but it was so tempting. Chan wasn't helping with anything either, not when he rested his hands on the sides of Felix's waist and pulled him in for another kiss, like he was promising this thing they had would never end.

"You should have a shower and eat something. You're probably starving after all the events that have gone on today," Chan predicted, not far from the truth. Felix was quite hungry by now.

"I will," Felix told, the smile ever present on his face as the bliss of their shared moment still hadn't worn off. He laughed a little, "I've never had someone dress me before. That was romantic of you."

Chan shrugged, back to his normal, nonchalant self.

"I thought you'd be tired," he said. He gave Felix's thigh a gentle tap, encouraging him to start making his way off the desk. "Come on, we can't be in here together for too long, it's bad enough that you were so loud near the end there."

Felix blushed at the tease, getting back on his feet as Chan moved to the side. He slid his shoes back on and Chan returned the lube to its designated drawer.

"Although... apparently I didn't do a very good job at hiding anything, either."

"What do you mean?" Felix asked, wracking his brain for all the possibilities he could be referring to. Nothing came to mind immediately, not until Chan, with a smirk, tapped the side of his neck. Felix touched the side of his own neck, in the spot he knew Chan had nipped at during some point. The skin there was tender, presumably reddened, too.

"If you didn't want people knowing, why would you give me a hickey?" Now it was his turn to tease. If he was expecting any reaction from Chan, it most certainly wouldn't have been pursed lips and slowly shaking head.

"Not a hickey."

Chan retrieved his laptop from the topmost drawer on the left side of his desk, opening it and turning the screen to face Felix. He found his own reflection staring back at him, hair a mess, the side of his face still bruised, and there, underneath his jaw in that tender spot, was a bite mark. His jaw literally dropped. He looked at Chan, shocked at how easily the indent could be seen.

"I should go out there naked at this point," he exaggerated.

"I wouldn't mind."

"You are unbelievable," Felix laughed, finally making his way to the exit.

"Before you leave, Felix," Chan called over, prompting the man to stop and face him once more. "I'd like to take you somewhere tomorrow evening. Don't wear anything too fancy, though, all right?"

—

When Chan had mentioned not wearing nice clothes, Felix hadn't expected to be led down to a basement beneath a basement he had no clue existed. Apparently, underneath the grand hostel was an entire laboratory utilised to do testing on NOKC products on the market, and even deeper underground was a steep, concrete staircase leading to a dim hallway. A singular door stood at the end.

Felix followed behind Chan, feeling unsure in this new area of the already massive building. The Levanter Hostel was proving to be more labyrinthine than he'd originally thought it to be. The door at the end of the narrow corridor had to be unlocked by Chan himself, pulling a key out of his pocket and guiding them into the space. Felix took a step into the room.

Seeing Im Sangjun again was one thing, but seeing him strapped to a wooden board and completely naked was something else entirely. His body halted in the doorway, taken aback by what was presented in the hidden chamber. Felix felt all prior excitement at the idea of spending more one-on-one time with Chan dissipate, fizzling out and being replaced by shock.

He took in the display of the solicitor bound to a sturdy wooden device that stood upright, the large object clearly having been built for something just like this, to trap someone. The floor wasn't flat, surprisingly, slightly tilted on an angle towards the middle of the room, a wide drain situated in the dead centre. The wooden device was positioned just above the metal grate. A single fold-out chair was placed a couple metres from it.

He could see that Sangjun was unmoving — not dead per se, but unconscious.

Felix could only observe as Chan walked up to the far wall of the basement, bringing awareness to an even scarier view than the naked middle-aged man. Along the wall was an industrial-looking metallic bench, adorned with two sinks and taps spread along the length of it. Next to one of the sinks, the closer one, was what appeared to be a cloth weighed down by unidentified surgical supplies and a handgun.

Someone was going to die. That was all that went through Felix's head as he took in the dingy, mostly empty room. Someone was going to die, it wasn't going to be a neat sight, and he would have to be here to witness that happen.

"Come take a seat," Chan instructed. His back was turned to the doorway as he scrutinised the tools set out before him on the bench.

Felix had a sudden guilty fear wash over him, covering him from head-to-toe at the realisation that this was what would happen to him should Chan ever find out his past. It wouldn't be Sangjun, but rather him tied to the wooden board, lacking consciousness and unaware of the horrors he'd be about to face.

Felix used Chan's turned back as a chance to spin on his heel and dart back down the dark corridor, in the complete opposite direction of whatever the fuck was going on in the basement.

He had the familiar feeling of when he was being chased through the city's outskirts by that shopkeeper only a month ago. It was impressive how drastically his life had changed since those times. He was no longer running from an underpaid worker for petty theft, but rather sprinting away from a potential future murder scene.

He could hear a pounding in his ears as his heart rate picked up, adrenaline coursing through him when he made it back to the staircase that'd led him down here in the first place. He barely made it up two of the steep steps before something — someone, specifically — caught onto the collar of his sweater. It didn't take a detective to figure out what had stopped him.

He was pulled backwards, stumbling into Chan as he tripped down the staircase. Two strong hands grasped his shoulders, steering his body back around and nudging him back towards the unsettling room.

"I don't want to," Felix pleaded, digging his heels into the concrete ground. His shoes slipped on the flooring and it made no difference.

"You have to. You need to learn something very valuable, Felix. I'm the only one who I'll allow to teach you this lesson, so I suggest listening," Chan asserted, managing to get both of them back into the room.

The door slammed behind them, and Felix was guided to the chair, dread weighing his body down and keeping him on the seat. It was likely the only thing keeping him there. In any other circumstances he would've tried to run off again.

"What lesson?" Felix braved a question, avoiding looking directly at Sangjun. He figured that no matter how helpless the man was right now, staring at him anywhere currently was a bad idea. He didn't want to see what himself in the future could be, choosing instead to watch Chan strategically pick out the tools he was going to use. First, he slipped on a pair of latex gloves.

"You need to learn how to cope when you're presented with danger," Chan stated. "What I've heard from Seungmin, despite his biased perspective, is that you can't fight back if someone tries to hurt you. Your instinct is to flee, but you won't survive long if you keep doing that. The least you can do is look at what's in front of you." He turned around once he decided on the equipment he wanted, facing Felix while holding the steel instruments. "So, you're going to learn by watching, understand?" His face held a strict expression, one that told Felix there was no getting out of this.

Felix had never been intimidated by Chan before. It hadn't been long since they'd met, but during their previous interactions he'd only felt neutral or horny, never threatened by him. Not until now.

"I understand."

"Good. Now watch."

Felix saw what appeared to be a scalpel in Chan's hand, held like a deadly pencil in its artist's grip. He didn't hesitate before he drove the polished point deep into Sangjun's skin, beginning his assault at the top left space of the man's unshaven chest. There wasn't even a hint at caution when he started to slice the flesh in a straight line, stopping halfway down the solicitor's peck.

Said lawyer began to stir, waking in perceptible panic at the scene unfolding. He attempted to jostle in the contraption, trying to find any wiggle room in the binds he was trapped in. The movements were minimal and barely hindered Chan's next cut, but they seemed to piss him off anyway.

"The more you move, the more it will hurt," Chan warned, more a threat than showing concern for Sangjun's well-being. Felix shivered at the unnaturally cold tone Chan portrayed, finding it out of place in any room Felix was also in. He'd never heard this from Chan, nor seen this callous side of him.

"Let me go!" Sangjun demanded, fright quavering the usual strength he had in his voice. His widened eyes flickered from Chan in front of him, to Felix sitting on the flimsy chair not far from them. He grew angry. "You— you're the fucker that broke in— ow!"

Chan jammed the sharp tool into the man's throat, shutting him up entirely. Felix gulped, folding his arms over his chest as a means of comforting himself. He drew away from the danger, experiencing that innate need to run away from here again. He turned his eyes down, staring at his lap in spite of what he'd been ordered to do. Sangjun's laboured breathing and desperate gurgling could still be heard.

It was like there were a pair of eyes in the back of Chan's head, because the second Felix looked elsewhere, he was being addressed once more.

"Don't look away," Chan reminded with a stern tone. Felix instantly turned his gaze forward. He could see that Chan was spelling something out across the naked torso before him, something unfinished for the moment. It would be continued once Felix was looking again.

"Why are you making me watch?" He asked, truthfully not wanting to witness Chan, of all people, doing the hurting. He felt his heart thumping hard against his ribcage when Chan suddenly walked up to him, grabbing his face in his palms, the stickiness of dirty lawyer blood and the coolness of the metal scalpel meeting his cheeks. He tried to ignore the sound of Sangjun dying in the background.

"This line of work isn't for the faint-hearted," Chan declared, staring so deeply into Felix's soul. Felix hadn't felt so small around Chan before and it was a daunting thing to experience. "If you want to learn to survive, you need to also learn how to face the worst and bloodiest of it, too. If you bow your head in the face of danger, you're going to be seen as weak."

"But I don't want to," Felix begged, feeling defenceless under Chan's looming frame.

"But you have to," Chan countered. "You don't have to like it, Felix, but you will need to learn how to keep composure when you're exposed to violence, otherwise you'll be targeted and eaten alive. Do you understand?"

Ana would kill him. She didn't raise him to be pusillanimous and cower the way he was beneath Chan's intense stare. He was brought up knowing he should fight rather than run when confronted with something as normalised as violence. He was brought up knowing better than to melt into putty under the touch of somebody who was slowly killing another human.

Yet, here he was, malleable so long as Chan was there to mould him.

"Why do you have to be the one to do it?"

Why do you have to break my perfect picture of you?

"If I'm letting anyone taint you, it's going to be me. I'm not a perfect human; nobody is. You can't see me as some kind of saint that pulled you from the dirty streets of South Korea and gave you a job and a bed. I didn't start my business out of the kindness of my heart, baby; I'm dirty, too. I'm as guilty as they come."

Felix was at a loss for words. He blinked up at Chan, ignoring the incessant coughing and wheezing coming from Sangjun in the background. He scanned Chan's face, discovering he was still as beautiful as ever, even in this new light Felix was seeing him in for the first time. Still alluring, still composed, still who he was before confessing his flaws.

Felix allowed his body to answer for him, leaning up and pressing a kiss to the other's lips. It communicated all the words that he didn't know how to say, a silent request for Chan to continue what he was doing to get it over with and a hushed acceptance of Chan's words.

His boss pulled away after a tender moment, walking back over to Sangjun and completing the job he set out to finish. It was as he drew the last line that the solicitor grew silent. Felix managed to watch and stay until the end when he could finally read what had been written out over the dead man's chest.

DON'T TOUCH WHAT IS MINE.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FIVE: I'D LOVE IT IF YOU LOVED ME

The sickness you foster, your favourite addictions

THE PREVIOUS DAY

Minho understood that what he saw and what he'd mistakenly heard weren't things he was supposed to see or hear. Even in his drunken daze, perched by the bar at the edge of the casino, he knew he shouldn't have been drawn to the muffled sounds of sex coming from Chan's office. Aside from himself and the bartender, Jaya, he hadn't witnessed anyone entering or leaving that office.

Except Felix.

At first, he'd been angry, ordered another shot and downed it with a contained hiss. Jaya had sent him an uneasy look. The noises grew suddenly and then stopped, and that was the moment dejection sunk in for him. He understood Chan was perfect in every way possible, there was no doubt about that, but Minho was never going to be the man for him.

Nice things couldn't belong to Minho, he'd learned that during his youth whenever his parents would neglect him in favour of his stupid half-brother. They would always serve their precious Minjae a feast, leaving Minho with whatever leftovers they bothered to put on a plate for him. They gave Minjae the bigger bedroom, despite the seven-year age gap between them and Minho being older. Minho never got away with anything, not a single bad grade or slip-of-the-tongue curse word. His parents reminded him constantly that he was the worse of their children and, in spite of him being the only one genetically related to them both, he was not their real son.

They had completely disowned him in high school when he'd (not so) accidentally spilt a homemade corrosive chemical over a student. And after being kicked out of home, being sworn at, hit and called insane, Minho had found his way to Chan and Changbin. Chan was perfect, even back then. His wisdom beyond his years and his determination unseen in the people of the city outskirts. Minho had always been lured in by Chan's natural charm, but he'd shoved it down long enough now to mostly ignore it.

Chan and Changbin were an infamous duo back then, inseparable brothers with an unwavering loyalty to one another. Minho had joined their forces once he was kicked out of his home. Eventually, he had helped develop SKZ from nothing into something after letting Chan in on the secret genius of his brain. Chemistry had always been of interest to Minho. High school taught him the basics and since then, he'd studied using online tools and libraries. Chan had sourced the equipment he needed for his at-home lab tests, and this had grown into what was his laboratory at the Levanter Hostel. His parents never would've supported his ambitions like Chan had.

Love was not something he was born to receive, and love was not something he deserved. Love from Chan? Forget it, it would never happen.

Minutes later, Felix exited the office in a daze that was noticeable even from where Minho sat. His hood was pulled over his head, eyes set on the elevator, but the mulberry markings embedded in his neck were obvious. Felix's face was bruised, presumably from the earlier kerfuffle between him and Seungmin, but that was nothing compared to the deep purple bite on his throat.

Well fuck, Minho never had a chance with Chan. He was ridiculous for even considering the thought of it. In response to this obvious revelation, he called for another shot, and then soon another. He drank until the burn in his throat felt good, until his mind was so numbed by the alcohol he couldn't form a coherent thought.

At some point during the evening, he must've made it back up to his room and collapsed onto his mattress like the sad sack he was. His phone was in his hand, but he couldn't remember why he'd retrieved the thing in the first place. Before he knew it, he was dialling the only person he could think of contacting at a time like this: his high school best friend.

"Hey, Minho, what's up?"

"Jisung, should I kill myself?" He slurred, arms and legs splayed out on the bed. His room was dark, the light switch forgotten on his way in, and the walls were too close together. The room felt suffocating.

"No, you shouldn't kill yourself. Why are you saying that? Also, are you drunk?"

Minho didn't deserve Jisung, either. Han Jisung was too good for the disgusting filth that ran through the streets, was too good for a lowlife like Minho as well. Nobody deserved Jisung.

"No, no. Just... why does Felix get to fuck Chan and then— and then walk out looking so fuckin' smug and shit, and I have to just watch like it's nothing," Minho complained, his words muddled and yes, he definitely sounded wasted. That, however, did not mean he was drunk.

"Felix and Chan fucked? Why wasn't I told sooner?!"

"I should kill myself." He probably would have, too, had his limbs not weighed a million pounds and his head not been throbbing so loudly. "Even you want them... fucking, you want them together, too, right? I should just kill myself, then."

"Minho, you're drunk. Go to sleep. If you want to kill yourself, wait until tomorrow at least. I'll talk to Felix, okay?" Jisung reassured, his tone as convincing as ever. Minho was far past exhausted anyway, so he supposed he could leave the whole suicide ordeal for tomorrow. And if Jisung was going to talk to Felix about everything, then it didn't matter either way, did it? Jisung would sort it out for him. Jisung was good like that.

—

EARLIER, CURRENT DAY

Jisung could have predicted something like this happening eventually. He'd been waiting for a call from somebody all of yesterday, whether it be Felix or Chan, or Minho hopefully. The phone call he and Minho had had the day before was concerning to say it lightly, and Jisung really, really wished to hear from his friend sometime soon. The phone call he did receive, which unfortunately interrupted his beauty sleep, was from Chan. The sun wasn't even fully visible at this time of the morning; he never understood how someone could willingly wake up so early regularly. He answered the call, nonetheless, his interest piqued by what Chan could want to talk about.

His mind was circulating around the drunken message he'd gotten from Minho, pertaining to Chan and Felix getting handsy with one another. Why Chan would ring him just to tell him this, though, was unrealistic. To the gang leader, business and personal lives were prohibited from being intertwined, and Jisung was part of his professional life, therefore likely wouldn't be told about what Chan and Felix had been up to.

"Good morning, Chan," he greeted, as warmly as his morning voice would allow. His bedroom was frosty cold, so he tucked himself further under his blankets, getting closer to any measure of heat that could be reached.

"Morning," Chan's voice crackled from the other end of the line. He sounded as awake as ever. "I'm calling to offer you a deal," he got straight to business. "There's a man that I need to speak with about some matters, but I have a feeling he won't come to me on his own accord. I'd like you to bring him to me."

Luring a man to his demise: easy. Jisung could smell the undertone of aggravation swimming around in the other's words, evidently meaning there was more to the story than he was letting on. These matters usually weren't something Jisung was interested in hearing about, unless someone important was involved. Majority of the time, he left gang business alone. Chan just happened to be an exception.

"And what's in it for me?"

Jisung hadn't built his name and reputation for simply helping anyone anywhere, whenever they wanted help from him. He had created an exchange system that made his work something to live off of. He gave information or, in this instance, helped out as an outsider of a gang, in exchange for an abundance of things. Mostly, however, he favoured money and more information.

"I'll pay you handsomely," Chan replied. Jisung chuckled, rolling over onto his back in bed. He stared absent-mindedly at the ceiling, not concentrating on the thinning paint or the weather stains, more focused on the conversation.

"That's never how it's worked between you and I, Chan. You know what I want," he said, alluding to his other preferred means of payment.

"Fine. What do you want to know?" Chan gave in easily, likely already knowing this was going to be brought up.

Jisung knew exactly what he wanted to know. The only question about it was, was Chan willing enough to disclose something of such personal nature during a business deal? Only one way to find out. "Well, when I heard about Felix joining you in SKZ, I was quite surprised to also hear about possible bedroom endeavours between the two of you. Mind telling me about that?"

It was unordinary for Chan to falter as he was consistently a very self-assured type of person, so when he went quiet on the other end, Jisung was positively intrigued. The reaction sparked a sense of confirmation toward the fact that, indeed, Chan and Felix had gotten up to something behind closed doors.

"How do you know about that?" Chan questioned, his voice reading one of genuine surprise.

Jisung had a moment when a brutal realisation washed over him like a bucket of water being thrown over his head. If Chan and Felix had been getting it on with each other, then there was absolutely no way Chan was aware of Felix's previous employment. Chan probably had no idea Felix used to work for Next Of Kin Co. He needed to talk this over with Felix. His best friend had free will and the right to make his own decisions, yet that didn't mean he could get away with hiding such a hefty secret from a man who was, admittedly, dangerous. Chan was the silent face of a prominent gang running the city outskirts. The gang, of which, who were known specifically for targeting NOKC and everything the corporation had a finger in.

Felix was a magnet for hazards, his life a cautionary tale written down each road and side-street, warnings left behind every corner he turned. Jisung had learned this over the duration of knowing Felix personally. The man sparked chaos wherever he went — it became hard to miss the longer one glared at it in the face. It was one thing joining a criminal organisation, but it was a whole other thing having sex with its figurehead.

Jisung smiled to himself, bitterness behind the expression. He bit back the instinct to tell Chan the truth in favour of teasing him, avoiding that situation altogether. "I've got eyes and ears everywhere. I thought you knew that."

"Was it Felix who told you?"

"Nope."

He wondered why it hadn't been Felix who'd mentioned this to him. Minho had a miserable work crush on Chan and Jisung had been knowledgeable of this for some time now, so it wasn't a shock he'd sounded so distraught last night. But Felix used to tell him everything. So, what was stopping him now?

"Why does it matter who told me; it's too late now, I already know about it," he dismissed, not wanting to think too deeply about it. It could be nothing, after all. "Now, you better start spilling some details or else I might just hang up," he threatened.

"What's there to tell?"

"Uh, everything. How did you guys even reach that point so quickly, it's only been a couple weeks since you met? Then again, you tend to go for the sweet-looking ones and Felix is quite the cutie. It's no wonder you hopped on his dick so fast."

The comment was made lightly, but there was something cruelly truthful about those words. Chan did like to mess around with sweet guys, the type with innocence in their eyes and a naivete about them. Jisung had been a witness to the protectiveness Chan exuded around pretty boys, how he liked to slowly corrupt that purity and plunge those angelic men into an irrevocable darkness.

Jisung had come across a lot of people in his lifetime, even more in recent years, but Chan had always stuck out to him. He came across as some kind of sacred being that was worth everything to keep content, however he was far from a good person.

Chan was not bad, but rather misleading. He hurt people, innocent and guilty, all for a cause greater than himself. He was fair and relentlessly loyal to a point of fault. He liked to find the goodness in the world and grasp it tight, unknowingly burning beautiful things as a cost of his own debauchery.

Jisung didn't particularly like the thought of Felix and Chan connecting as more than co-workers.

"I did not hop on his dick—"

"So, he hopped on yours; is that what I'm hearing? You're very much his type, Chan." Yet, they still shouldn't be together.

"Jisung, stop it."

"The end call button is looking really enticing..."

Chan sighed in defeat, an occurrence that did not happen often. "I fucked him on my office desk. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

There it was: the final confirmation. The confession to something that Jisung had to disapprove of in silence.

"Yes, thank you! Did you take good care of him? If you didn't, I'll kill you."

"Well, he seemed to enjoy it, so I suppose I didn't do so bad," Chan bragged, his cockiness over the situation shining through in the way he spoke. Jisung hated to hear it.

"Okay, gross. I've heard enough," he played off. "Who was it you needed me to lure to you? Some poor NOKC sucker you want dead?"

"A man by the name of Im Sangjun. I have his address and the address of the firm he works for. Is there anything else you need from me before you begin tracking him down?" Chan offered, seriousness dripping from his words now that they were back to work talk.

"You still seem to underestimate your good friend Jisung," Jisung said with a dramatic sigh. "I told you already: I've got eyes and ears everywhere. You'll have Im Sangjun at your doorstep in no time."

There was a brief silence on both ends of the line, which felt awkward at this point if the discussion. And then, when Chan articulated his next words, Jisung understood why he had needed to pause.

"You know, Jisung, you would make a fantastic addition to my team. You should know you always have a position open in SKZ."

Absolutely fucking not. Jisung could feel an ugly twist in his stomach at hearing the familiar sentence come from Chan's mouth. He was officially done with this conversation.

"I've told you once, and I'll tell you again, Chan: that's never going to happen. Goodbye."

-

PRESENT

At the young age of fifteen, Jisung was introduced to Lee Minho, an intelligent but troubled teenager. Every now and then, he still indulged in the memory of the day they met. He could recall the smell of dew and smog that was prevalent in the inner city during the late days of autumn; the scent that clung to his skin even in adulthood.

And in the concealed part of the high school they went to, way back behind the school buildings in a secluded corner, was where Jisung stumbled across Minho. Well, he was not stumbled upon by accident, it had been Jisung's every intention to find him tucked away behind the concrete structure of the science department.

Indeed, Minho was curled into the furthest possible area, holding his legs up against his chest and staring at nothing. Weeds seemed to grow tall around him, the rust of the metal gate greeting his solemn figure like an old friend. He'd been leaning limply against where the fence met the edge of the science building, all life sucked from his youthful face, pallor consuming him. The only colour there had painted a busted lip.

Jisung hadn't spoken a word, not knowing how Minho would receive it after being beaten by those cruel bastards again. Jisung had, at that time, only recently learned of the torment Minho endured daily. It was that day he'd actively chosen to do something about it. He didn't know Minho; he just knew that he was so similar to Jisung's brother and Jisung needed to protect him.

Jisung had taken his place beside Minho amongst the overgrown weeds, undisturbed by the ants creeping over his shoes, and only slightly bothered by the glare Minho had sent him. This was for the better, he had thought.

Following that interaction, the pair had grown close. Jisung remembered confiding in Minho about his brother leaving the day he turned eighteen. How Minho had reacted stuck with Jisung and he could still hear the straightforward, comforting words Minho used to reassure him back then.

"You're never alone, Ji," Minho said. "Jihoon left, but I'm still here and we're both trapped here, in this city. Can't be alone in a place like this."

Can't be alone in a place like this. Jisung had those words tattooed in his mind since that very day. Because of the fateful sentence, he'd created many acquaintances, friendships and alliances with and abundance of individuals across the outer city once he moved out here.

And after that, only a few months later, Minho disappeared. According to rumour, he was expelled for performing a highly dangerous prank on some students, which did not sound far off from something Minho would do. He built up courage in those few months they'd been close, and because of his newfound self-assurance, it'd caused him to also leave Jisung's side.

Thankfully, the two rediscovered one another a couple years later by pure coincidence. Minho had started working for Chan and played a significant role in forming what civilians now knew as SKZ, and Jisung had connections that led him to Chan. It was a jovial day when they had met again.

And now, Jisung was knocking on Minho's motel room door, praying he hadn't killed himself over the course of the last day.

He released a deep breath when the door swung open to reveal a barely awake Minho, a scowl on his face as he squinted under the corridor light. His room was dark from what Jisung saw and it appeared nothing was changed inside. There were no indications any attempt had been made. He couldn't help but smile in relief.

"Good morning, it's good to see you're alive," Jisung remarked. He moved naturally to make his way inside, inviting himself into the tidy apartment. Minho furrowed his brows, putting a hand up to Jisung's chest to stop him in his tracks.

"What are you doing here so early? I thought you slept in on weekends?" Minho croaked out, his morning voice as alluring as ever. Fuck, he looked so gorgeous from this close. Jisung didn't think he'd ever grow accustomed to the overall beauty that his best friend beheld.

While reminiscing the past between himself and Minho, he did forget a very important detail from after their meeting again. A crucial aspect which had painted their companionship in a new light for Jisung that while back: it was that Jisung had an undeniably massive crush on Minho. The blossoming of it had surprised him back then, but it continued to make more and more sense the longer he lived with it.

Jisung was a sucker for things that made a human feel alive, and Minho just happened to be the perfect man to make him feel free. There was a lack of judgement on Minho's behalf, no matter the situation Jisung got himself into over the years. It was so refreshing after being criticised his entire life, previously shunned for any minor flaw he possessed. But Minho didn't care, and it was the best thing for Jisung. It made sense he would fall for a man like Minho.

"I do sleep in on weekends, but not when I think my best friend killed himself," Jisung explained, carefully pushing past Minho and entering the room. He settled on the end of the mattress; a spot he found most comfortable on the odd occasion he visited.

"Why would I kill myself?" Minho asked, gently closing the door again, and crawling sluggishly into bed once more. He obviously hadn't wanted to get up at this hour.

Jisung sent him a look, curious.

"You don't remember?"

"No, I don't remember. I'm too hungover to think right now."

He leaned back on his hands, peering down at his friend, who looked just about ready to fall asleep again. There was a moment where Jisung contemplated how he should break the news of Felix and Chan's endeavours to Minho, milling over the circumstances and wondering if it would be too harsh to state it blatantly.

He knew how much Minho had fawned over Chan, as he was there every time Minho needed someone to listen. There wasn't anyone else he ever went to, so it broke Jisung's heart a little each time Chan was chosen over him. It wasn't like anyone was making a move, but still. It hurt.

"Chan and Felix... you don't remember anything?"

There was a silence that took over. With Minho's eyes closed and his body heavy, Jisung was convinced he'd fallen into a slumber in the span of three seconds, but then Minho hummed, revealing himself as awake.

"Yeah. I remember now," he mumbled solemnly, a frown becoming visible on his face. "Can you just... let me sleep?"

Did he want to sleep, or did he want to avoid reality, Jisung wondered, though the answer was obvious. Minho was shattered, dejection clear in the way he proceeded to sink into his mattress, getting under his sheets again. He was desperate to ignore the world for the remaining minutes he had the chance to. The least Jisung could do was let him have this.

"Does that mean I'm getting kicked out?" Jisung joked, secretly hoping he would be asked to stay.

"I don't care if you stay or go. Just be quiet."

"Deal."

Jisung laid back on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge still. He felt much more at peace now he knew Minho was safe and sound, simply hungover and miserable, which was to be expected after yesterday. His own eyes wandered the expanse of the low ceiling, painted monochromatically and not of immediate interest.

He let his mind drift deep into his stream of consciousness, losing himself in his thoughts after a few minutes of lying there with Minho at his side. This was peace, he realised after taking in the moment. This was where he could experience harmony in the crazy world they lived in. Being by Minho's side was freeing — there was no doubt about that. There was no other place Jisung would rather be.

—

Working alone was already turning out more beneficial than working alongside Seungmin. Felix was inconspicuous when he was alone, falling into step with the passers-by on the streets and slinking into the shadows to stay as out of sight as he could manage. He blended into the throng of the inner city like he'd belonged there his whole life, his choice of clothing as brightly coloured and dystopian as the rest of the local population's.

With his recent influx of wealth, he had made the sensical decision to purchase some new clothes; ones for the outer city and ones for the inner city. His inner city outfits were quite out-there, inspired by what he had seen in the shopping centres and at work when he lived here all those years ago. His choice today consisted of pants displaying bold, multicoloured patches, and a way oversized hoodie, which had psychedelic patterns dyed into it.

If he was wandering in the slums, he would stick out like a stubbed toe, but he fit right in around these parts. He knew that the wilder the design of your clothing, the more likely you were to be perceived as affluent. Only the rich dared enter the roads of the inner city, the paths of which belonged solely to the upper class and that were paved by the funds of NOKC.

There was a time in his life that it was customary to walk this route, from one particular area of the city toward NOKC headquarters, and it was an ordinary thing for him to be dressed so dramatically. Blending in here did not feel as foreign as he would've liked. He was just glad his body was absent of that dreadfully violet blouse and those straight, black slacks that were a staple for NOKC workers.

However horrible the memory of his old uniform was, he had to put aside his hatred and stare it directly in the face, for today his mission was to follow around a woman who sported the recognisable purple button-up and dark pants. He promised himself to be careful not to approach her because he understood if he did so, he'd be recognised.

This lady, Kyo Hanbyul her name was, had met Felix a million times in the past. She was head of marketing for NOKC and, as much as he felt disinclined to compliment a person who worked religiously beneath Next Of Kin Co., she was excellent at her job. In the limited time he'd spent under NOKC, he had seen Hanbyul work magic for the company, increasing sales and publicity with her brilliant advertisements. Her brain worked in a type of way that was hard to explain in any word other than impressive.

It was Felix's task for the next week or so to collect notes on her movements, common whereabouts, places of interest, the lot. From his prior knowledge, he knew she visited big-name news outlets quite regularly, but he was slowly learning the actual names of these outlets.

Genetically Speaking was the most frequently visited destination, which was an outlet that branched directly from NOKC and circulated news about the company specifically. The online chronicle's main purpose was to provide information about the latest genetic advancements being made in South Korea, but was pure bullshit and was highly manipulated to make it appear like NOKC was doing good for the world.

Glossed Over Magazine was another attraction Hanbyul tended to steer towards every couple days or so. The business prided itself on discussing the current trending celebrities and their input in societal developments. Felix supposed Hanbyul was to blame for the articles on famous individuals' contributions and support for NOKC, further swaying the opinions of the public.

Among these businesses, Hanbyul made her way to work at eight o'clock sharp every morning but weekends. She was punctual and kept routine, making it easy for Felix to know where she could be at any given moment. It allowed him to slink off from his careful pursuit of the woman every now and then, and then pick up in another point of time without arousing suspicion.

He'd been hot on Kyo Hanbyul's tail for about a week and a half without complications thus far, never getting close or staying long enough for her to notice him. His success in camouflaging himself had held up until this point, but that didn't mean the success was permanent. That much he could tell when, from amidst the flow of foot traffic in the CBD, a pair of uniformed officers stopped him on his journey.

"Good morning," the taller of the two men greeted, "how are you on this fine day?"

Felix felt that familiar desire to run away, sensing that the reason behind this interaction was intentional and not just coincidence. He chose to stay put, though, figuring he might be painting himself as guilty if he immediately sprinted off when approached by police officers. Cops had great leniency when it came to what they could and couldn't do these days, the law being slack when it came to how authorities should act.

"I'm fine, thanks. How are you guys?" He returned in a friendly manner, playing it cool for the time being. He tucked his hands into his pockets, saving them from the cold wind sweeping between the sky-reaching buildings around them.

"We're doing just fine. But we happened to notice you from down the street over there," the officer mentioned, pointing in a vague direction behind Felix. "Just wondering if we could get your name."

It wasn't a request. If a cop asked his name, it meant they were going to have it no matter the cost. Considering he was part of an outer city syndicate, recently witnessed a murder, and broke into a solicitor's apartment, handing his real name over to the police was not an option for him. He glanced down at the batons hanging from the officers' belts and took a controlled breath.

"Kim Jungwoo," he fabricated.

"Funny." The tall one cracked a smile, looking Felix up and down. His partner shifted a little, resting his hands on his belt and settling into a broader position, like he was getting ready for something. Felix looked between them.

"What's funny?"

Before he had a chance to reconsider the idea of running, he was being manhandled, and a set of cuffs was getting locked around his wrists. He made a pained noise when the handcuffs dug into his skin, turning to complaining when he was suddenly being dragged away, presumably to head towards the police station.

"Why am I being arrested?" He argued. He tested the restraints behind his back, coming to the grave realisation that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"You provided false information to an officer of the law. And because we know you're a runner, Mr Lee. Can't have you running off when we've got questions for you," the officer said, holding one of Felix's arms while his partner held the other.

"Mr Lee?" He feigned innocence. He nearly tripped over his clunky shoes as he was being pulled over to a police vehicle, his foot harshly colliding with the roadside when they left the footpath.

"Do you prefer Yongbok? Or are you playing dumb?"

The back door of the car was opened for him, and he was shoved inside, hearing the slam of the door before he could formulate a reply. The world went silent, the bustle of the streets shut out once it was just him, alone, in the back of the car. It was in the quietude that reality truly set in for him; he acknowledged his grave mistake. He should have made a run for it.

The two officers jumped into the front, with the quieter one buckling into the driver's seat and the talkative one in the passenger. Coming up with an idea, Felix shuffled forward on the plastic chair in the back, putting his face up close to the barred window separating himself and the policemen.

They were setting off down the road when he offered, "I'll make you a deal, officers."

"We don't need your dirty money, Lee."

"Better than money, officer," he guaranteed, knowing he could put his brain to good use right now. It was his greatest asset. "Better than sex. I can get you people."

People wanted people, that was just the way of the world. If not directly wanting a person, they wanted other's attention, or service, or love. Humans were innately needy and selfish, always wanting more from others than they could have. People wanted things from other individuals, and this was an untapped market, a goods and services industry that Felix had a foot in the door of anyway. He could give away people.

Perhaps not deliver an entire person to your doorstep but definitely could gift someone with knowledge about people. What was richer than money and sex than knowledge itself?

"What do you mean you can give me people? Can you give us Im Sangjun?" The same man questioned, raising an eyebrow at the proposition.

"No, but uh, you need information on people working against NOKC?" Felix asked, knowing well what the answer would be. Of course, when suggesting a trade like this one, he was not intending to throw Chan under the bus. He knew plenty of inner-city goers who were against all of what NOKC stood for, and there were plenty more than Felix, himself, knew of.

"What kind of information are we talking; because if this is some rouse to get your freedom back, it ain't gonna work, all right? Give me a hint," the officer considered, evidently intrigued by this deal he was willing to make.

Felix smiled to himself, giving a shrug when he knew the man was watching him through the rear-view mirror. He proceeded to put on a poker face, blinking innocently at the mirror and faking distress.

"I don't know, officer, these cuffs are too tight for me to think straight," he sighed, dramatically.

"Think a little harder and I might reconsider the handcuffs altogether. How does that sound?"

Felix instantly sat forward again, leaning to speak once more.

"You see, I think I remember a pair of twins working at the NOKC headquarters... Kang, I believe their name was. The Kang twins, yes, they're scheming behind the scenes, officer, talking about a way to climb to the top and pick apart the company from the inside out. What was it they said to me... now, I think this pain in my wrists is getting too much," Felix told, trailing off in anticipation of a reaction.

"Pull over," the man commanded his subordinate.

They stopped in a safe section of the street they were now in and the talkative cop got out, opening up the side door again. Felix scooted out, eager to get out of the handcuffs he was put in not a few minutes ago. The sweet relief he felt when the restraints were taken off him was heavenly. Freedom was close.

"That's better," he commented to himself. Then, he looked up at the officer, glanced over his shoulder to figure out his route. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, the Kang twins told me that the way they're planning on taking down a huge empire like Next Of Kin Co. is to start at the balls of the operation."

Felix swung one of his chunky, vibrant boots and hit the man in the dick, watching him keel over immediately. It was this opportunity that he took to sprint away like his life depended on it, taking the path he had subconsciously created just a minute before.

He ran, and ran, and ran. In fact, he managed to secure a hiding place a fair distance from where the policemen were parked. He tucked himself into a deep doorway nook, racing to get his phone out. He dialled a less familiar number than Jisung's or Ana's, but he was just as relieved to hear the man on the other end as he would've been had it been his friend or sister.

"Is everything all right, baby?" Chan asked, clearly not expecting any call from Felix today. It did feel strange for them to be talking over the phone and not in person in Chan's office.

"Yeah, just..." He was heaving, trying to catch his breath as he sat down in the doorway. "I need a pick-up. Some officers just tried to get me arrested for nothing," Felix fibbed, understanding exactly what he was getting booked for. They knew he was somehow involved in the disappearance of Im Sangjun. He needed out of here right now.

"Did you get their names?" Chan sounded serious, just as deadpan as he'd been when he was telling Felix to watch him kill another human. It sent a shiver down Felix's back, knowing precisely the intentions behind his boss asking this.

"No, I didn't. Why?" he prodded anyway.

"That isn't relevant. Where are you?"

Felix described his surroundings and gave a location that was as close to where he was as he could make out. He heard Chan hum on the other end of the line.

"I'm sending Changbin to pick you up. If I didn't have a meeting in five minutes, I'd come over myself," Chan promised, seeming disappointed about his duties. "Did any of the officers hurt you?"

"The handcuffs were a little tight, but that's it."

"I'm going to find them and kill them," Chan stated, no ounce of hesitation in his words. Felix could tell he was not playing around, just as he wasn't when hunting down Sangjun and murdering him brutally.

"Don't."

"I'll call you back later, okay baby? I promise."

Silence ensued, leaving Felix with a pit of fear in his stomach as a reminder of what had occurred the last time Chan had vowed to dispose of somebody. The other emotion he felt as a consequence was great levels of regret for his life choices, regret for the way things had turned from bad to worse the longer he stuck around SKZ. He swallowed down the self-guilt, understanding it was too late now. He was in too deep.

—

When he first got a call, Felix had rushed to pick up, expecting it to be Chan following through with his earlier promise. He was not predicting the caller to be none other than Jisung. He answered anyway, leaning against the side of the Hostel's concrete structure. He took a puff of his smoke after greeting his friend, already missing the taste once it left his mouth.

He had spent his money wisely and invested in a pack of cigarettes finally, picking up the bad habit he'd lost long ago like it had never left. It gave him an excuse to leave his hotel room on the days he wasn't needed for work, which was just his excuse to get back on them. Nonetheless, he watched the smoke get carried away by the wind, dissipating into the pollution.

"When were you going to tell me about you and Chan? You know I've been waiting weeks to hear from you, wondering if you'd feel inclined to call and give me this big life update!"

Felix held the phone away from his ear, wondering if Jisung had been building up his vocal cords in those supposed weeks he'd been waiting. It was not like him to yell first in a conversation, so it was strange to witness this aggression from the man.

"Fuck, Jisung, sorry? I've been busy," Felix told, not lying this time. A lot had been going on lately, so who was to blame him for forgetting to make a phone call.

"Busy getting bent over by your boss, you mean."

The visual was enough for Felix to recount his and Chan's building list of sensual interactions, biting back a grin at the memory of actually getting bent over his boss's desk only the other day. Jisung wasn't far off to insinuate that getting fucked over a desk had kept him busy. He felt giddy, like a teenager getting told off for screwing around with the town bad boy. 

"Among other things."

"Yeah, well, from what I've heard you aren't exactly discreet about getting into Chan's pants. I've heard horror stories about you prancing about with hickeys painted all over you," Jisung exaggerated, subtly digging for more scoop.

"That was one time. It was an accident," Felix defended. He took another breath of smoke to distract from the broad smile spread across his face.

"Sure it was. Felix, I'm being serious when I say you need to be careful messing around with someone like Chan," Jisung warned, his tone taking a strict turn. "Kudos to you for getting some dick, but don't be stupid about it. Have you told him you used to work for NOKC?"

Felix's joyous expression faltered instantly, any hint of a smile fading quick enough not to catch the moment it vanished. He must have been sinking in quicksand or something because he was suddenly stuck to the spot he stood, unable to move as he considered lying to Jisung about this particular topic. He sighed, realising his body was affixed in this sandy mess anyway. He gave in.

"No, not yet."

"Felix, as your best friend, I have to tell you when I know you fucked up. This is one of those times. Chan will skin you if he finds out, you know that, don't you?" Jisung ungraciously pointed out the obvious.

"If he finds out. If. I don't need to tell him. There's no way he'll find out anyway, I'm completely off-grid," Felix reassured. There were positive aspects to never having his birth registered, and this was one of the many perks. He was unable to be seen by means of research. Someone would have to know him to even know about him.

Which was why his interaction with those officers had struck him as weird. He was so sure that after leaving Next Of Kin Co., Yongmi would have cut him off entirely, leaving no strands loose — for example, having his real name out there for others to know.

If Yongmi was anything, it was possessive. Very few people knew his real name, Jisung being one of them, and he thought she'd pull strings to try and keep it that way. But those policemen had known his government name and his face. It didn't sit right with him — it hadn't since he'd reflected on it this morning.

"That doesn't guarantee anything, and you know that," Jisung scolded.

"Just trust me, okay? Chan doesn't have to know. Nobody in SKZ has to know. Help me keep it that way, yeah?" Felix stubbed out the short remains of his cigarette, watching the wasted end fall into a pile of rubbish that had been swept to the side. "Anyways, it's been a while, as you said. You wanna go out for a drink?"

"Felix, I'm not joking around. Don't ignore what I said.”

"Tomorrow night sound good? Five o'clock, Blind Spot?"

Felix started walking towards the entrance of the Levanter Hostel, wanting to escape not just the wind, but this conversation as well.

"Felix."

"Five o'clock it is. See you then."

He hung up as he was strolling through the front doors, shoving his phone into his pocket in an attempt to push away the lingering sense that he was making a mistake in hiding this secret from Chan. Jisung could berate him tomorrow if he so wished. For now, Felix just wanted to ignore the reality of the circumstances he'd landed himself in.

-

Back when he was freshly a teenager, barely above the class of a child, Felix could recount a very vivid memory of his sister storming into the loungeroom. At that time, they were living in a decent little house, with Ana paying rent with anything she could get her hands on and scraping together enough notes to feed the two of them every day.

Felix's bedroom was the loungeroom, using the flat-cushioned couch as a bed. He remembered staying up late that night to sneak a couple cigarettes from Ana's stash while she was sleeping, and had been successful in doing so, until ten minutes later when he heard Ana coming down the hall, fuming. He recalled stubbing the lit cigarette in his hand out on the arm of the sofa, rushing to get rid of the evidence of his crime before she came into view.

In retrospect, he should be grateful the couch hadn't gone up in flames. It did, however, burn a hole in the material, one he quickly covered with his hand as Ana advanced toward him.

"You've been stealing my smokes, haven't you," Ana had accused, pointing at Felix through the twilight darkness. Felix straightened up on the couch, trying to make his position look natural, less like he was hiding something. He tried not to think about the half-burnt cigarette haphazardly shoved down a gap in the cushions.

"No, I haven't!"

"Yongbok, I can smell it," Ana argued. She made a swift gesture with her hand. "Get up. I'm searching you."

He'd only gotten up from his bed because he knew if she searched his person, nothing would be found. She proceeded to pat him down, digging through his pockets for anything incriminating. Nothing came up. She threw his jumper back at him, clearly peeved.

"If I ever catch you stealing from me, I'm going to kill you. I do so much to support you, Yongbok. Don't take advantage of that," Ana swore. She stormed off to bed again, leaving her brother with the greatest feeling of guilt he'd ever felt. To this day, he still believed that moment was the most guilt he'd ever felt in his life.

In spite of the guilt, Felix never learned not to do things he shouldn't. He'd only learned how to stop feeling bad about those kinds of things. So, when he showed up at Blind Spot, only a couple minutes past the time he promised, he felt no guilt in the decision he made right before heading over here.

What he hadn't mentioned to his friend was the two people he'd dragged along to delay the dire conversation they needed to have just a little bit longer. Hyunjin and Jeongin had happily tagged along when invited, oblivious to the tension that was strung between Jisung and Felix as they entered the dingy joint. Felix didn't feel bad at all.

He informed his fellow SKZ members that they would be meeting a long-time friend of his, but had skipped over the part where Jisung didn't actually know they were coming. It was a dick move, he understood that, yet he couldn't seem to care about that more than he cared for forgetting about Jisung's past warnings.

When the three of them strolled into the place, which was quickly packing in customers, Felix found Jisung characteristically sitting by the bar, chatting to one of the bartenders. Felix walked over to the bar with Jeongin and Hyunjin in tow, not having the choice to take a seat by the bar as well due to the stools being occupied. Felix got Jisung's attention.

"We need to talk," Jisung started right away, putting on a happy face for the bartender while he told her he'd be leaving now. As he turned to begin interrogating Felix, his eye caught on the couple standing with Felix, as well as the sorry smile forced onto his friend's face.

Okay, he took it back. Maybe he felt a little bit bad.

"Hey, Jisung, I forgot to tell you I was bringing friends," Felix told.

He waited to be scolded but was surprised when he found Jisung blatantly staring down Hyunjin. Not even both Hyunjin and Jeongin, just the singular man. Jisung didn't respond to Felix's poor excuse for avoiding the discussion they needed to have. He just stared for a few seconds.

"Why is he with you?"

"Who; Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin grinned, slinging an arm over Jeongin's shoulders. His boyfriend leaned into his side comfortably, smiling to himself. "These two can't handle themselves. I'm their guard dog tonight. Problem?"

"Not at all," Jisung lied. Felix was puzzled by this because it was not often that Jisung told bold-faced lies, especially ones that were so obviously untrue.

"First drink is on me, guys," he offered, wanting out of this tension as soon as possible.

Jeongin perked up at this, already putting in his order. The other two followed suit, but it was evident there was something going on between them that no one else had heard about. Now it was Felix's turn to want to question his best friend. Unfortunately, if that happened, he'd have to have the one conversation he was preventing, so he'd have to put it off as well.

They found a booth to sit in, nursing their drinks and striking up some irritatingly mundane small talk. Jeongin sat across from Felix and at some point, sent him a look that screamed this is so awkward, help. An idea popped into Felix's head and, without caring for disturbing the boring communication, he asked the whole table,

"Who wants to do shots?"

—

An hour later and few shots deep, Hyunjin and Jeongin were happily joined at the hip on the dance floor, surrounded by a crowd of other tipsy patrons. It was much darker now, making the fuschia, neon lights stand out even more. Felix watched with a lazy grin as Jeongin and Hyunjin blended into the party-goers, half tempted to go out there and accompany them.

He was moments away from standing up and dancing when Jisung piped up after a short period of seemingly thoughtful silence.

"When did you start hanging around with Hyunjin?"

Felix glanced at Jisung, noticing how forcefully composed Jisung appeared under the pink luminescence of the club. In his intoxicated state, he didn't read too far into the crestfallen emotion written all over the man's face, instead looking back at the cheerful crowd.

"We don't really hang out," he explained, leaning back in his padded seat. "Jeongin and I talk sometimes, when we get a chance. Him and Hyunjin are dating, so they're kind of a package deal."

He paid half a mind when gulping down the remainder of his beverage, clumsily placing the empty glass on the table. When Jisung didn't reply for another moment, he finally turned to face him properly, finding the man mindlessly twirling the dregs of his own drink around in the bottom of the bottle.

"What do you have against Hyunjin? You're being hostile and it's really not like you," Felix delved, though he was slurring his words a little. His full attention was now on his friend, who he watched shift from an expression of casualty to one which mimicked regretful nostalgia.

"You know that psychotic boyfriend I told you about, the one I dated a few years ago. How he used me for a bit of thrill and then got bored after a while? That was Hyunjin," Jisung explained, not meeting Felix's eyes.

Indeed, Felix remembered stories of the man Jisung spoke of. However, he hadn't known the name of that man until now, finding out it was the exact same guy he'd invited here to have a drink with him, and in turn Jisung, too. Fuck, that was an awkward situation Felix put his friend into.

"Jeongin seems nice. It's good to meet new people, as well," Jisung commented. There was more behind the remark, something Felix read as pity, like he felt bad for Jeongin in some capacity. Unintentionally, Jisung answered the question of why he was piteous toward Jeongin with his follow-up statement. "I just cannot trust Hyunjin with him. Jeongin comes off as very naive, so I don't know if I could talk with him about it, either."

"Sounds like a predicament," Felix uttered with an agreeing nod.

"You know who else is being naive and, quite frankly, fucking stupid?"

Jisung looked at him pointedly. The dance floor was looking mighty tempting right about now.

"I'm not being stupid," Felix denied in a hushed tone. "It's just sex and a job, okay? I'm off the grid, I'm using an alias, I've been taken off the NOKC systems — gone, erased. Lee Yongbok doesn't exist."

But even he didn't fully believe that last part. Lee Yongbok existed somewhere in the records floating around the inner city. It scared him honestly, thinking about all the implications of his real name being out there. If the police knew of him and his whereabouts, then did that mean Yongmi was aware of him and his routes?

"If you're so sure, then why are you being so defensive?"

I'm not sure, that's why! But I can make my own decisions, and I chose Chan. So please stop talking, was what Felix wanted to say. The words were sitting invitingly on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out at any moment. But he held back, bit his tongue, grew more defensive and effectively wanted to shut down the topic of discussion.

"I'm not talking with you about this, Ji."

"Do whatever you like, just know that this is a bad choice," Jisung declared. He began shuffling out of the booth, leaving behind his emptied glass. "I'm leaving. Talk to me when you're thinking straight."

And fuck you, too, Ji.

—

Hushed, drunken giggles were drowned out by the thumping music reverberating off the concrete bathroom walls. Jeongin followed closely behind Hyunjin, joining him inside the single toilet stall, hands intertwined. Hyunjin's hands were on him before the lock could be turned, the warmth of his fingertips gliding around Jeongin's waist and pulling his shirt up to expose the flushed skin there.

They had managed to slip away from the crowd and away from the other two, who were still out there chatting. Jeongin had felt Hyunjin's eyes on him, undressing him in his head out on the dancefloor. The heated gaze had become impossible to endure after a couple of minutes and Jeongin took it upon himself to suggest they leave to a more private area.

"Fuck," Hyunjin murmured, moving down Jeongin's neck. "I could kiss you forever, Innie."

"I dare you," Jeongin teased, urging his boyfriend to dive in and take him once more.

A small noise escaped him now as Hyunjin kissed him with a messy passion he'd never experienced before. Jeongin was pushed up against the graffiti-ridden side wall, revelling in the drunken make-out session. The bass from the club's booming music could be felt vibrating through the walls, drowning out the sound of his thumping heart.

What disrupted the moment was the sight of the unlocked door opening in the corner of Jeongin’s eye. A middle-aged man stumbled as the door swung, only stopping once he caught on to what was happening inside the confined stall. Hyunjin paused in his pursuit to kiss his boyfriend up and down, turning to glare the intruding stranger down, not uttering a word as he kept his body pressed against Jeongin’s without an ounce of shame.

The stranger turned his nose up, sending them a judgemental look. A glass bottle hung loosely in his grasp, threatening to slip from the insecure hold. Then, with an unsteadiness that suggested the man was drunker than the pair of men combined, he pointed at Jeongin’s face, his fingers uncomfortably close to poking Jeongin in the eye.

“You fucking fags," he cursed at them, sluggishly, "take your blasphemy to Hell with you!” And then he did something that left Jeongin angrily stunned, also prompting Hyunjin to raise his fist and hammer it at his face. He spat at Jeongin.

The escalation was rapid, enough so that Jeongin couldn't react further than showing a shocked facial expression for a brief moment. The stranger was on the ground in an instance, knuckles pummelling his head into the grimy concrete floor. Hyunjin's warm touch was gone, his tender fingertips replaced with a dreadful, cold absence.

And then Jeongin's daze suddenly turned blindingly hot, a fit of pique overcoming his senses and making him see red. He searched for the nearest object he could throw at the man, his narrow sight landing on the bottle the stranger walked in with, now idle on the ground. That would be painful, he knew. It would hurt.

Better yet, it should hurt. The stranger should be returned with the same vile energy he'd shown towards Jeongin. Jeongin might hate how he was born and hate the way he is by nature, but that did not automatically mean he would sit by and remain passive when he felt insulted. The thought that he and Hyunjin were interrupted only added fuel to the burning fire inside him. He was trying to have fun and this dickhead decided to come along and ruin that. He deserved pain.

Within seconds Jeongin had snatched up the spilling beverage by the neck and was pressing a firm hand to Hyunjin's chest, momentarily stopping his violent pursuit, kneeling beside him. Then, he broke the glass over the head of the disgusting stranger. The unknown man was consumed by sharp, emerald fragments, which would have been poetic if not for the abrupt silence that swallowed the room.

There was no fight anymore, there was no light in the man's eyes, they weren't even closed. His head lolled to the side, weighted, missing any conscious strength. Jeongin blinked at the stranger, his body buzzing still.

Hyunjin gently pried the remainder of bottleneck from his fingers, grabbing onto Jeongin's trembling hands and guiding him back up to his feet. As speechless as Jeongin already was, he lost all words when Hyunjin tilted his head so they were facing one another, looking eye to eye. It wasn't strange to gaze at his boyfriend when there was irritation still coursing through his body, but it was weird that the anger wasn't aimed towards Hyunjin this time.

"It's okay. You're okay," Hyunjin promised with a reassuring smile. "He can't hurt you now. I'm so proud of you for sticking up for yourself, Innie."

Jeongin was taken aback by the words, stunting the fury balling in his stomach. His focus fell into the hypnotic glint shining vibrantly in Hyunjin's eyes, looking him over for any once of falsehood. Only honesty could be uncovered, no matter how intensely Jeongin stared.

"You're proud of me?"

Hyunjin tugged him close again, brushing their noses endearingly. "I'm proud of us. Look at what we accomplished together; we were made for each other. I do think it's time we head home, though."

There was no time for disagreement as they were already escaping through the back doors of Blind Spot. Together they ran off into the night, hand-in-hand, the initial reason behind coming here completely forgotten.

—

The visible shaking in Jeongin's hands was powered by the adrenaline lingering throughout his body, his ragged breathing a courtesy of the thrill from under an hour ago. His blood-stained shirt sleeves clung onto his sweaty skin, but he remained warm in Hyunjin's arms as he was carried into his boyfriend's hotel room.

He was giggling again, like some stereotypical lover in their honeymoon stage, basking in the romanticism of being literally swept off his feet. It only took seconds for him to be playfully thrown onto the bed and for Hyunjin to crawl on top of him. Hyunjin kissed him with a passion still as amorous as back at Blind Spot, taking his breath away in a manner he loved.

Jeongin remembered all the bubbly and dizzying emotions swimming through him in that moment, a scene that'd only happened a few minutes ago. The giddiness that flooded through him and the butterflies in his stomach, the warmth from the heated embrace given by the man he was quickly falling for.

Those idyllic feelings of comfort and happiness were gone now. Aloneness consumed him. Solitude clutched onto his heart and settled into place, leaving him with an overwhelming sense that, despite Hyunjin giving him everything he ever wanted or needed, he was still on his lonesome in this world. He would never truly have company, not in a world like this one.

He backed away into the farthest corner of the ensuite, not obeying Hyunjin's pleas to just unlock the door and let him inside. His spine hurt as he fell against the tiled walls and slid to the floor, his bare feet touching the cold, smooth squares lining the ground. His body instinctively curled into a ball, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face in his folded arms.

Hyunjin was not allowed to come inside here with him, not after Jeongin was forced to face his own miserable reality — the reality that a man had died tonight. Too much was going on for his brain to fully catch up, too many flashes of the horrors he'd committed tonight were popping up in his head. So, he blamed his negative feelings on something else — Hyunjin.

What had happened at Blind Spot was entirely Hyunjin's fault. Who else was there to take the fall for the death of a stranger. Hyunjin was a professional murderer; he knew exactly what he was doing when he dragged Jeongin away from the crime scene without even trying to help the stranger.

He'd tricked Jeongin into believing the ordeal was something of a twisted bonding moment, and had ultimately manipulated Jeongin. The kill wasn't on his hands. Jeongin was innocent. Hyunjin was the puppeteer the whole time, tugging whatever strings he wished to so that Jeongin would do what he wanted.

This heavy realisation had come just minutes before, when Hyunjin had his long fingers down Jeongin's pants, stroking him and introducing a new unfounded pleasure to the inexperienced of the two. Jeongin's mind had wandered, prompting him to abruptly come to his senses in spite of the intimacy he'd once craved from his boyfriend.

Now, it was Jeongin bearing the consequences.

"Innie, let me inside so we can talk properly. Was I moving too fast for you? We don't have to do anything; I was just doing what I thought you wanted," Hyunjin explained softly, his melodic voice creeping through the crack beneath the bathroom door.

Jeongin lifted his head up, exposing to the four walls around him his tear-lined face. His lip quivered, though he was scowling in response to Hyunjin's words.

"You lied to me!"

Hyunjin had told him everything would be fine and the world would keep spinning even after the execution of a human being. If that had been true, Jeongin wouldn't be feeling consumed by deep-cutting guilt and the extreme conviction that he was utterly alone in this scenario. He cared, it seemed, but Hyunjin did not.

"What did I lie about, Innie?"

He didn't have to listen to Hyunjin. He didn't have to answer, didn't have to do anything for Hyunjin, because at the end of the day Hyunjin hurt him. He did the one thing he said he would never do and he fucking lied.

Jeongin's fingers ran through his sweaty hair obsessively, repeating a back-and-forth motion as he tried to forcefully ease away the millions of thoughts circulating in his head. Thoughts that considered this whole time he and Hyunjin had been together, he was being manipulated and fed lies. Thoughts which consisted of images of glass breaking over a bloodied face in the bathroom at Blind Spot, thoughts that told Jeongin that what had been done, although quite unbelievable, really did happen.

"Innie," Hyunjin called, egging on the terrifying memories, emphasising them.

Thoughts of the swelling tearing open that stranger's face, thoughts that reminded him of how the glass sounded when it cracked over his skull. Thoughts of the tacky sensation coating Jeongin's fingers as he gripped the neck of the broken bottle, and the thought that this was all because Hyunjin tricked him into doing that. Hyunjin had started it.

"Innie, come on."

And then Hyunjin had tried to have sex with him. After doing all that to him, it was never going to be enough. Jeongin had to be fun for Hyunjin, that was all he was, just a marionette to toy with for pleasure. Seungmin was right. Jeongin was being used because Hyunjin also believed him to be crazy, just like everybody thought, and he saw that craziness as entertainment. It hurt.

"You lied..." he muttered, quiet — nothing above a breath. The gravity of the situation sunk in deep, guilt swallowing him in one lethal gulp.

Jeongin found his footing, steadying his unbalanced body and spinning mind by leaning against the tiled wall. He stumbled a little and found himself staring far into his own eyes by the mirror, watching as his skin paled and his shoulders slumped. He gazed at himself, unable to see that same party and alcohol-driven gentleman which had blessed his eyes at the bar.

He looked angry now, hollowed out. The murder had taken everything beautiful about him away and what was left behind was a shell. He prodded at the sunken skin on his face and knew, without a shadow of doubt, that there was nothing beneath what he could see. He was empty. Thin layers of skin, hair, and ragged bone, and nothing beyond what his eyes could view.

This was all Hyunjin's fault.

"You can't hide in my bathroom forever. Please come out so I can help you, my sweet Innie," Hyunjin begged once more. But he wasn't begging, Jeongin knew he was using a desperate tone as a ploy to draw him out. Jeongin wasn't fucking stupid.

His feverish eyes searched the flat sink space for anything of use, landing on a steel facial razor. He snatched it up, staring at the sharp edge of the blade attached to it and wavering, unsure of what to do with it. He glanced back up at his reflection, hating everything about it. He felt inclined to drive the razor into his own neck, until that godforsaken voice rose again.

"Come on, just talk to me. I don't like it when you go quiet, it means you're thinking too much," Hyunjin urged. "I'll count to five and if you don't open the door by the time I finish, I'm getting my key."

And the decision on what to do with the razor was made for him.

"One... two... three..."

Jeongin unlocked the door, immediately moving to hold the weapon against Hyunjin's neck, preventing the counting from continuing.

"Innie—"

"You lied!" Jeongin shouted with a quiver in his voice, interrupting the other. His whole body was trembling, fuelled by adrenaline and ferocity. "You told me that everything would be okay. You said to me that I'd be okay. You're a liar!"

His blood boiled when Hyunjin did nothing but prop a pleasant expression on his face, unperturbed by the threat of having his neck sliced open and even less concerned by Jeongin yelling in his face. Hyunjin's long fingers snaked around the hand gripping the razor, holding the blade firmer against his own neck.

"Do it, then," he persisted in great confidence. He stared into Jeongin's eyes, a grin slowly spreading across his face. "Kill me. I dare you."

Hyunjin's smile was so disarming that it was a genuine misfortune when Jeongin hesitated. He glared at his boyfriend like they'd never met before, glared with all the anger he could physically manage. Yet, he couldn't find it in him to move.

"Come on. You've already done this before, so why the hesitation? Is that why you're acting weird, because you can't come to terms with what happened? Kill me. Go on; make it quick," Hyunjin encouraged, his confidence never wavering. He held onto Jeongin's hand tighter, further pressing the razor edge into his own skin. Blood drew. The sight of a single red droplet trickling down the length of his neck had Jeongin forcing his hand out of Hyunjin's grip, effectively retracting the weapon.

A clatter sounded into the room as the razor hit the floor, disturbing the now tense air between them. Jeongin's ire slipped away, something between regret and shame overtaking him in a way that made him look away from Hyunjin's intense stare. He couldn't do it. He couldn't look Hyunjin in the eye and hurt him back.

"Are you finished?" Hyunjin asked.

Jeongin ignored the condescending question, shuffling past Hyunjin and crawling into bed, not paying mind to the fact he was still in his going out clothes. He didn't want to admit defeat aloud, so he showed it through action, making himself small under the covers. He knew Hyunjin had talked him into doing something truly horrific, but the fact of the matter was Jeongin couldn't stay mad.

He wasn't even mad when Hyunjin joined him in bed and pulled him close, providing him with that warmth he hated to love. He let his eyes fall closed, tears falling down his face again. These were silent cries, representing the quiet acceptance that Jeongin would have to live with himself and with Hyunjin after they had both taken somebody's life together.

He felt Hyunjin plant a soft kiss to the back of his neck, nuzzling into him. He murmured, "Are you going to tell me what that was all about now?"

Jeongin sniffled, keeping his back turned towards the other.

"I already told you," he choked out.

"I'm a liar, I know. I still don't know what I lied about."

"You said— you said everything would be fine. Nothing is fine. You lied to me."

He was completely and utterly defeated. Exhaustion was sweeping over him, engulfing his body in a heaviness that he knew would last days. Hyunjin found his hand beneath the sheets and intertwined their fingers, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"I didn't mean to lie, okay? For me, everything is fine. It's different for you, and I didn't think about that possibility before we decided to leave. Violence is everywhere, I assumed everyone was attuned to it," Hyunjin said calmly, whispering the words.

"I hate it — I hate it so much," Jeongin confessed. "I'm a product of violence. I never told you that," he stated, not finding the ability to care about admitting such a thing anymore.

"A product of violence, huh? You and me both, Innie. You and me both."

The casual statement felt so odd coming from Hyunjin. Jeongin didn't think he'd ever heard personal words spoken from the other man's mouth before now, especially not ones that seemed to tell a lot about him. This moment was the most emotionally intimate moment they had shared before. It compelled Jeongin to keep talking, despite his tire.

"I'm part of the Trial Generation."

There seemed to be a minute of consideration for this reveal. Jeongin didn't blame Hyunjin for not knowing how to respond, but it didn't take away from the nervousness he felt in those seconds he awaited some sort of reply. Neither of them moved a muscle, nor spoke for a long stretch of time. Then, Hyunjin finally said something.

"I was raised by teenage junkies. We were both fucked from the beginning, I suppose," he remarked bitterly, brushing a thumb over the back of Jeongin's hand. "Maybe that's why I'll do anything for you; because somewhere in my heartless heart I know you're just like me."

"You're not heartless," Jeongin argued. If Hyunjin was heartless, then he'd love to hear the man try and explain their position right now. He would be thrilled to hear why Hyunjin continued to vow his devotion to him.

“Innie, baby, don’t be naïve. I don’t believe anyone deserves anything from me,” Hyunjin muttered, a hint of mirth in his tone. “You only think I’m not heartless because you’re the exception.”

“You care. You must.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you holding me?”

“Listen to me,” Hyunjin demanded softly, holding Jeongin’s hand tight to keep his attention on him. “Other people do not matter to me, but for you… for you I would die. Only for you, okay? Nobody else.”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SIX: BIOHAZARDS AND BAD OMENS

And I want your nightmares, the ghost in your doorway
Your paralysed sleep and your—

Many new products had been distributed since Next Of Kin Co. formed as a company, many of which had been dealt out by NOKC itself. Beyond the DNA testing kits that’d originally brought about the business’s popularity, there was also a multitude of health serums and supplements created by them that circulated around pharmacies, especially in the modern day.

Most were plant-based, all-natural medications and tablets that boosted one’s energy levels, yet both types of products were adjacent to a placebo. Others were sedatives passed off as sleeping medication, some had traces of carcinogenic chemicals and, overall, all were either a health hazard or ineffective. It was truly miraculous to think that, after all these years, NOKC was readying themselves to release something as operative as a manufactured liquid cocaine.

Felix knew all of this because not only had he worked directly for NOKC, but Minho had also just gone on a wildly dumbed-down scientific spiel about it. There were no specifics involved in his lecture, the reason being that majority of the people listening had little to no school education, but it had been highly informative, nonetheless.

Felix had gathered in the laboratory with most of the SKZ members he had acquainted himself with, alongside nameless other individuals who wore the same coats as Jeongin and Minho. Minho seemed to be the heart of what was operating in the sterile lab, hence was giving the speech to those who were a part of the meeting.

The significant portion of this get-together was just now being introduced, Minho talking calmly while fixing on a pair of latex gloves. He carefully picked up a vial of an almost fluorescent teal liquid that sat in a stand amongst others of the same kind. He held the tube up for all to view, moving it around so everyone in the room could get a proper look.

Felix’s blood ran cold.

“This is Vi Liquida,” Minho stated firmly, “it also goes by the shortening of Vil. NOKC is planning on marketing this as an alternative to steroids, one that acts faster, works for longer periods and has more benefits to health than what prescribed steroids currently have. However, after only a short time of testing, we’ve already established a few of its negative side effects.”

Felix could feel himself bracing for what Minho may list off as the side effects, a few ideas surfacing in the front of his mind. He’d known of Vil back when he was working for Yongmi. It had been in the works for years, one drug that Yongmi had truly wanted to perfect for the sake of her pride and greed.

She’d said to him countless times back then that it would be revolutionary if she could put Vil out on the market, that her name would go down in history forever because she created liquid strength.

However, like Minho had pointed out, there were many aspects that needed breaking down and reconstructing entirely. Felix was aware of the overdose of adrenaline that had been mixed into Vil in its early stages of development. With his own two eyes, he’d been a witness to how a sudden rush of excitement and nerves could drive a person mad — how it could make them sick on the outside and on the inside.

Then other issues had quickly arisen after the first couple trials, far worse than leaving a person shaking uncontrollably and deluded into thinking they were being watched. He had stood right by Yongmi, looking into a confined, padded room from behind a panel of glass as test subject after test subject seized and died, surrounded by nobody who could help them.

Others who’d managed to survive a Vil injection rapidly developed heart conditions or mental health problems, which lead to their deaths only weeks — or sometimes mere days — after a single dosage of the poison. It had been on one of those tormenting occasions inside the NOKC labs that Felix had decided to finally make the move to leave the company for good. He remembered it vividly.

After calling into work claiming he was ill or some other greater excuse at the time, Felix had eventually shown up to the headquarters after his position at the company was threatened to be lost. At the time, he’d been so desperate for money that morals didn’t matter as much as his rumbling stomach and nicotine cravings. He’d been growing antsy and hungry sitting around at home all day, fearing Yongmi had her eyes on him, and he’d be caught out for his lies soon anyway.

So, he went to work. He took the elevator up to the floor that was home to Yongmi’s office, strolling reluctantly through the building in that intensely purple blouse. He’d kept reminding himself this was for a good cause — for his own survival. He had the most wanted job in the country by working directly with Yongmi, and he shouldn’t take that for granted; that was what he kept thinking.

But as he’d gone through the motions of his workday, he had eventually accompanied Yongmi to NOKC’s own laboratories, with the intention to watch a demonstration of the effects of the newest form of Vil. He felt himself getting nauseated on the way to the labs but had become overwhelmingly sickened when actually entering the wide, open room. Still, he kept his composure and took a deep breath.

“This has been our most successful formula so far,” the head scientist had promised delightfully. “Death rate is still zero after months of trials. We also lowered the dosage and tweaked a few other things, so the side effects were less mentally damaging and more physically empowering. We do believe this will be the perfect mixture for Vi Liquida if our results remain consistent for a while longer.”

Yongmi had rejoiced in a fashion that bordered on insane. Felix had observed the chilling smile that spread over her face, but stayed silent as a sense of foreboding swallowed him whole.

“Perfect. I want a demonstration right now,” Yongmi ordered, eyes alight with a barely contained excitement. She spun on her heel to face Felix head-on, grabbing his chin and digging her claws into his cheeks like hawk talons would to a mouse. “Yongbok, it’s your time to shine. Behave, now.”

Felix was close to letting a protest slip as it dawned on him what she was talking about, but it was too late. Strong arms had grabbed hold of him, dragging him over to one of the specialised patients chairs the lab was equipped with. He was strapped into the sleek, plastic chair, which resembled that of one from a dentist’s office, and his movements were fully hindered.

All he could see was that turquoise substance being needled into his arm before he could even open his mouth to plead for mercy.

In the lab at SKZ, Felix now shivered at the memory. Only a flash of the unbearably painful full-body tenseness crept into his mind before he suppressed the feeling. Vil had given him the knowledge of what it felt like to teeter on the rope between life and death, a feeling worse than the guilt he felt after killing another man.

If anybody knew about Vil, then it was Felix himself. Minho and his helpers might know all the jargon and the technicalities of what Vi Liquida was capable of, but Felix had felt it. It had taken over every fibre of his being, and as much as he tried to remove that knowledge, it still weaselled itself back into the forefront of his mind. Vil was pain.

Vil did not empower like that scientist had confidently suggested, rather it took something from you that was impossible to get back. It leeched on a human.

That had been the turning point for Felix. Vil brought him to make a move to be free of the company and out of Yongmi’s chokehold. His departure came at a great consequence, though: he’d lost his sister at the hands of Yongmi. Vil could be directly linked to Ana’s passing.

Felix couldn’t bear to look at it.

For a moment, as Minho went on with his discussion, Felix did glance at the floor, avoiding the view of the Vil vials sitting on one of the close shelves. Then, he recalled what Chan had said to him not long ago. Don’t look away. If I bow my head in the face of danger, I’ll be seen as weak. I have to keep my composure.

He considered the words for a moment before raising his head again. The thought of Chan made his gaze wander over to the man himself, who stood in front of Minho, listening intently. Felix surveyed him, noting his powerful stature, the seriousness in the way he held himself.

Chan was a model for how Felix should be, he realised that now as he stared at him. Chan caught him staring, glancing over at him and sending a wink, reminding Felix of the situation he was in right now. Maybe he should run.

He held onto that thought until the meeting concluded, heading straight back to his room once he was back above ground level. Once he was back inside his pseudo-apartment, he found a backpack he’d purchased recently and started packing his clothes into it.

Realisation hit him hard. SKZ knowing about the existence of Vil, no matter how important it was to know so they could bring NOKC to its demise, was one step too close to them figuring out his past. He had to deal with this. He would never admit it out loud, but Jisung was correct in saying he was being stupid by involving himself with SKZ — even more with Chan. Felix considered the chance that he’d been thinking too much with his dick and not enough with his brain.

He hurried into his bathroom and collected the essentials from inside, shoving them into a pocket in his bag. He turned back around, taking a single step into his bedroom and pausing when his eyes fell upon the man he planned to completely avoid. Chan was in the room, curious eyes landing on the packed bag in Felix’s hands.

“Are you going somewhere?”

Felix would’ve asked why Chan had followed him into his room but knew better than to start that conversation. He didn’t want to hear how Chan had seen through his mask and had unravelled that he was perturbed during the meeting. He didn’t want to know when Chan started learning how to read him. Instead, he answered,

“I’m not cut out for this life. I thought I could do this, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Chan walked up to him, resting a gentle, but firm hand on the side of his neck. Felix hung his head in shame, feeling regretful that he was apparently unable to fulfill his promise of revenge for his sister. Chan soothed a thumb over the flushed skin on his neck, pressing a soft kiss to Felix’s bowed head.

“Felix, look at me,” Chan whispered. Felix listened, understanding now that he couldn’t ignore Chan when he was asked to look at him. “We need to talk about something.”

On instinct, Felix felt his heart drop. But Chan was not angry or disappointed about whatever it was he needed to talk about, rather stern and worried, so Felix had a small amount of hope that it wasn’t what he thought. Chan did not know about his history with NOKC. He couldn’t.

“Talk about what?”

“Sit with me,” Chan beckoned, moving to the mattress. Felix followed, leaving his backpack on the floor by the foot of his bed. Chan grabbed his hand with his tender hold, keeping a closeness with Felix was making his heart race. “What are you afraid of?” He questioned.

“What makes you think I’m afraid?”

“You’re running again. I’ve noticed you do that when you feel threatened; I tried showing you a way around it, too, but you’re still resorting to fleeing. You’re trying to escape something right now, so, I’m asking what it is that you’re running from this time,” Chan explained.

More lies. Felix was beginning to feel them building up into something that was difficult to keep up with. But in order to do what he needed to and get out of this world alive; he had to lie. He could never be a fully honest person in a world like this.

“I know about Vil,” he confessed warily, adding, “it killed my sister. Hearing about what it does to people... I can’t think about what it did to Ana. She would’ve been in so much pain.” Chan was nodding along thoughtfully, really listening to what was being said and digesting the gravity of Felix’s words. “Everything just feels more real than I was expecting. Her death feels more real.”

“Should that not make you angry?” Chan reframed. His thumb ran over the back of Felix’s hand, the sensation lulling the internalised fear inside him into a calmer state. “Should it not make you want to stay here so you can avenge Ana, because her death feels more real? Baby, where has your thirst for vengeance gone?”

“It hasn’t gone anywhere. I’m just... not sure anymore.” Felix glanced down at the backpack slumped over the ground, stuffed to the brim with any clothes he may need if he left. He let out a sigh. “I overreacted, didn’t I?”

“You reacted in the way that allowed you to survive in the past. However, I think this needs to be trained out of you if you want to reach your end goal of taking down NOKC. One lesson doesn’t seem to have been enough,” Chan considered aloud, continuing with his ministrations. “How do you think we solve this issue?”

Felix milled on the problem at hand, thinking hard about it because he knew he wanted to deliver payback for Ana. Deep down, he understood this would be the only way to succeed in his mission. So, he put great thought into what was being asked of him, eventually meeting Chan’s assertive gaze with a determined one.

“I need to learn how to defend myself.”

—

“Keep your head moving. You’re here to fight, not to take punches from someone else,” Changbin instructed, his professional voice no doubt grating Felix’s ears by now. He would have to deal with it for the time being. Throughout his freshly beginning training journey, Felix would be receiving much more advice from his new coach.

Changbin noted that Felix’s fighting stance was awkward, not yet accustomed to the proper positioning of his arms and legs. His speed was admirable for someone just starting to learn fighting skills; however, his technique was untrained, and his hits had no power to them. Yet. It was important for Changbin to remind himself that this was a man starting from scratch. He had to assume Felix knew nothing.

Even when the pair had walked into the dingy arena, Felix had seemed blissfully unaware of where they were. Although there were boxing bags hanging around the unglamorous establishment and a ring placed in the middle of the room, Felix still questioned their whereabouts. Changbin had told him they were at Seo House and, when asked to elaborate, explained that this was a bar crossed with a fighting gym: the perfect location for underground fights.

Felix would not be participating in any spars beyond Changbin for the time being. He was far too new to this sport.

“You’re facing forward again. Turn your body more,” Changbin directed, observing Felix from a near distance. He was sweating, chest heaving as he jabbed at the hanging bag. For his first lesson and for apparently knowing nothing about fighting at all, Changbin could confidently say that Felix had phenomenal stamina, too. Speed and endurance were equally as important in a good fighter.

“Get further around the bag; exaggerating your movements can improve the comfort of them,” he instructed firmly. He watched Felix’s face harden in determination, applying the skill Changbin had just taught him. He moved further around, landing another swift hit. “Keep going. I know you can continue doing this for longer, you’re hardly breaking a sweat.”

“You’re killing me, you know that?” Felix complained, listening anyway. He was good at this. Changbin wondered where this innate ability to fight had come from, knowing characteristics such as combative skill did not arise from nowhere. Either his parents were goods fighters in some capacity, or this had been moulded into his nature by an external factor.

“Are you sure you’ve never boxed before?”

“Are you joking?” Felix laughed. He readjusted his stance again, noticing he was facing the wrong direction again. “I didn’t even know what a boxing bag looked like until earlier today.”

“That surprised me, you know,” Changbin said. “For a smart man like yourself, it was shocking to hear you’d never seen boxing equipment before.”

“I didn’t go to school.” Felix shrugged, keeping his eyes focused. He punched again, twice now.

“Keep moving your head.”

He huffed loudly, attending to the instruction.

“You never went to school, huh?” Changbin pretended to consider this, already knowing this fact about Felix.

If he had gone to school, then it would’ve appeared in the background check Changbin had done on him. Instead, all that was out there was nothing. One or two Lee Felix’s who were deceased, but nothing outside of that. The Lee Felix he was looking at was off the grid, which was an unsurprising detail when accounting for what Felix had told them of his past.

A dead sister who had worked under a corrupt and despicable company to provide a life for herself and her brother. A lost boy with little to no life experience, but a spectacular mind full of knowledge of all evil in the country, along with a thirst for vengeance. It was something straight out of an old-fashioned novella.

Changbin wondered, in a world where Felix’s sister had lived until now, if Felix would become anything. He had no education, no job, limited companionship with others and not a dollar to his name before joining SKZ. In an imaginary alternate universe, would he have had the determination he did now? Would he have an ounce of the purpose he had now?

Each time Changbin dwelled on the thought of SKZ’s newest member, he felt pity. There was no significant age gap between himself and Felix, but there was an air of naivete that surrounded the other man. He was not innocent in a way that was obvious. He knew of the dirt on the streets and in the bedroom, of the scum that loitered amongst the commonfolk and the wealthy.

What was less apparent to most, though, was the fact that Felix lacked awareness about consequences. It had become glaringly transparent to Changbin that Felix and Chan had an affair going on behind closed doors, and Felix was swimming in the attention. Yet, he ignored the possibility of drastic outcomes if anything were to happen between them. Chan was his boss and fuck buddy, and he was yet to realise the detrimental effects that would come of this.

Changbin looked at Felix and saw immaturity. But he also found great potential.

“Were your parents ever into physical activity?” Changbin asked, finally giving into his curiosity.

Felix let out a small scoff. “I don’t know my parents. My sister was my only family.”

His breathing was far more laboured now that the minutes were growing longer in their training session. Changbin told him to take a break, catch his breath and drink water. He seemed grateful for the mercy given, taking a seat on the concrete flooring beside Changbin, taking a slug from his water bottle.

“Did your sister train?”

Felix drank down the last of his gulp, taking a moment for his breathing to catch up to him. He rested back on his hands, legs spread in front of him.

“I mean... you could say that. She definitely knew how to throw a punch,” he told. He was speaking from first-hand experience. “Why are you asking?”

“I’m asking because you’re a natural fighter. If you were any other person I was training for the first time, I can guarantee you wouldn’t have progressed so well in one session.”

“I find that hard to believe with all the critiquing you were doing.”

And there it was again: innocence. Felix was wildly heedless to his own capabilities, too. He would be far too easy to take advantage of in the reality they lived in. If Felix had stumbled into a group of the wrong kind of people, he would be drained of every last thing he could offer without batting an eye to the theft. Changbin pitied him.

—

They were situated a fair distance apart in Hyunjin’s hotel room, with Jeongin standing by the entrance, his body trembling in anger, and Hyunjin sitting up on his bed, waiting to hear what they were going to argue about now. He was lying down not a minute ago, enjoying the plushness of his comforter, but decided to fix his posture when Jeongin had abruptly stormed inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

“What did I do wrong this time?” Hyunjin asked, exasperated by his boyfriend’s constant need for conflict. In the previous disagreements he and Jeongin had shared, he’d at least had an idea as to what was going on, but not this time. This time Jeongin’s fury was random.

“Nothing! You didn’t do anything wrong!” But Jeongin was yelling, expressing his words dramatically with his arms, which told Hyunjin something was definitely wrong. Something had pissed him off. “Seungmin, though — he needs to mind his own fucking business.”

“So Seungmin did something wrong, then?”

Jeongin groaned, throwing his head back in frustration. “Yes, it was Seungmin! Do you feel better about yourself now?” He turned to glare at Hyunjin. “Feel better that you’re being a fucking decent person at the moment?” The question was icy, intending to carve into Hyunjin. It was too bad Hyunjin was unaffected by the cutting tone.

However, the malice in Jeongin’s voice was so weird, unusual by his norms. Something must have been very wrong, which was what prompted Hyunjin to get on his feet. He abandoned his phone on the bed and made his way over to his boyfriend. He didn’t walk the whole way up to him, though, just getting close enough to offer open arms if Jeongin so wished to be engulfed by them. A hug normally helped.

Jeongin rolled his eyes, walking further into the room, but directly past Hyunjin. For a moment, Hyunjin remained there, arms spread open and inviting, embracing nothing but emptiness. He blinked, shocked by the painful throb that swelled within his ribcage. Never in his life had he felt something so disgustingly harrowing, and only because Jeongin had ignored his offer of affection.

Hyunjin’s arms fell to his sides, a feeling of defeat overcoming him all of a sudden. Since when was he so hopeless?

Jeongin sat on the edge of the mattress, ignoring his lover as he started digging through the contents in Hyunjin’s bedside table. Hyunjin turned around to face his boyfriend, silently watching him search through the drawers. The way Jeongin carelessly shoved items to the side spoke many words in itself, mostly that he was very irritated.

Then, he threw the drawer closed, obviously unable to find what he was looking for. Hyunjin could feel the weight of his penknife in his pants pocket and had an inkling as to what Jeongin wanted. He was apparently lucky to have put it there earlier when he went downstairs for breakfast.

“Where’s your knife?!” Jeongin shouted, confirming Hyunjin’s suspicion. A shrug was given in response.

“I’m not giving you my knife, Innie,” Hyunjin stated easily. “Not when you’re like this.”

“You,” Jeongin seethed, getting to his feet again. “You lied to me. You said you’d do anything for me! Why not now?”

He was right up in Hyunjin’s face, giving him a shove to emphasise his frustrations. Hyunjin could feel the outline of the blade against his thigh through the material of his trousers, burning a hole in his skin. It would be simple enough to hand over the weapon and let Jeongin get what he wanted, but Hyunjin knew better than to do that. He might kill for a living, but he only did that to the most evil of people. Seungmin did not belong in that category.

“Maybe you should lie down for a bit, hmm? Maybe calm down before you kill somebody you don’t actually want dead,” Hyunjin said instead. This time he didn’t offer his warmth, deciding to take it upon himself to wrap his arms around Jeongin’s waist to contain him a little. Jeongin tried pushing him away, shoving at his shoulders, but to no avail.

“Let go of me! I’m not killing anybody, I’m teaching Seungmin a lesson. What don’t you— I said let go of me!” Jeongin was shrieking, positively riled up by this point. He was thrashing against Hyunjin’s hold, becoming increasingly violent in his movements, but Hyunjin wasn’t letting up. He knew that Jeongin got worse before he got better, so Hyunjin could endure the worst of it before he consoled his boyfriend.

Before getting together with Jeongin, Hyunjin had massively underestimated the wild ride he was throwing himself into. He lived for the unpredictability and all the complex parts of Jeongin, sure, but the feelings he got during Jeongin’s worst moments were confusing him. Had he ever felt the need to comfort a person before?

Growing up in a house full of drug addicts had fucked up his moral compass and he was continuing to pay the price of that even now. However, Jeongin was doing something to him that he found weirdly foreign, like he was making Hyunjin develop as a human being.

A year ago, or even only a couple months ago, Hyunjin would’ve been laughing at the way Jeongin was swinging his limbs at him, not doing much damage at all. He would have found it entertaining that he could piss somebody off so easily and so often. But now? Now he found himself wanting Jeongin to calm down so they could cuddle together, and so Jeongin wouldn’t need to feel these intense and horrible feelings any longer.

He wanted Jeongin to be happy, always.

“Innie, calm down,” Hyunjin repeated, as gently as he could without sounding irritated as well.

“I am not calming down,” Jeongin growled, body pressed hard against Hyunjin’s own frame. In any other circumstance, Hyunjin would take Jeongin by the mouth and lead him to the bed, kissing him hard enough to make him forget what made him mad in the first place. It wouldn’t be difficult and he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea, but as of right now Jeongin would probably actually punch him if he tried doing that.

“Innie, please.”

Jeongin did stop, but he kept on glaring at Hyunjin. He was so cute when he was angry.

“You have it on you, don’t you?” He interrogated, hands pushing against Hyunjin’s chest to get the only ounce of distance permitted by their position. “You have your knife on you. Where is it?”

“Just sit down for a minute,” Hyunjin diverted, not easing up his hold as he knew Jeongin would do something irrational if he let go. “I’ll sit with you. Just calm down.”

He never thought he’d be trying to convince someone not to kill another person. Jeongin was proving to be doing things to him, changing him in ways he didn’t know could change. When did that start happening, he wondered.

Jeongin’s hands were all over him, and not in any manner he would’ve liked; they were frantically searching. A hand succeeded in slipping into the pants pocket that contained the penknife, Jeongin snatching it into his palm. Hyunjin gripped Jeongin’s wrist, doing his best to prevent either of them from getting hurt in the process of Jeongin’s frenetic actions.

“Don’t,” he scolded, one hand still around Jeongin’s waist and the other holding his wrist.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Jeongin seethed, tearing his hand, along with the knife, from Hyunjin’s grasp. He made a sudden move to leave, struggling when Hyunjin reacted quickly and took hold of the back of his shirt. He was pulled backwards into Hyunjin’s arms again and the fight picked up once more.

“You’re not going out and stabbing anyone, Innie,” Hyunjin instructed, growing tired of the battle. He was beginning to get frustrated by the obvious fact that Jeongin wasn’t listening and wasn’t paying any heed to what Hyunjin was asking of him.

“Leave me alone!” Jeongin cried out, hitting at his boyfriend’s arms again. “Let me go, Hyunjin! Let me go! Don’t touch me!”

Something was changing in his voice, a hint of tire, a hint that the real emotions buried beneath his anger were surfacing. Like Hyunjin knew already, when it came to his Innie, things always got worse before they got better. Yet, it still shocked him some when Jeongin’s worst in this scenario led to a penknife being suddenly plunged into his forearm.

His hold was unrelenting, only constricting around Jeongin’s middle harder when the intense pain was jabbed into his arm. He held his Innie close, as close as physically possible, as tight as he could until Jeongin’s hitting and kicking grew weaker.

Jeongin was clawing at his arms, the metallic clatter of the knife being dropped resonating through the room. He felt fingernails, jagged and bitten digging into his skin, scratching, trying to tear away from his purchase. Like a scared animal trying to escape a cage, Jeongin was desperate in his attempt to flee.

“Let go of me! Hyunjin! Leave me alone,” Jeongin begged, his tone getting shakier. Hyunjin tried to feel his warmth, doing what he could to being Jeongin back to him and out of his own one-track mind. “Let me go, let me go, let me go. Hyunjin, let me go. Leave me alone! Leave me alone. I don’t want to— I don’t want to be here, please!”

Fingers dragged across the fresh, deep wound on Hyunjin’s arm, causing a hiss to leave his mouth. He could feel the skin tearing and the blood oozing from the injury, but he didn’t flinch away just yet. He needed Jeongin to be okay before he would allow himself to move at all.

“Please, Hyunjin,” Jeongin pleaded. He sniffled and Hyunjin knew he was crying now. The fighting ceased and his body slackened, growing heavy in Hyunjin’s arms. “I’m so sorry Hyunjin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“I know, Innie, I know. It’s okay, I’ll be fine,” Hyunjin reassured, softening his grasp enough that Jeongin could comfortably lean back against him. “Come lay down with me?”

Jeongin nodded, and they both crawled on top of the mattress. He turned around to face Hyunjin, eyes reddened and lower lip quivering. He took a deep, hitched breath.

“I’m sorry, Hyune.” With shaky fingers, he tugged back Hyunjin’s sleeve to look at the damage he’d done. There was a fierce gash drawn along Hyunjin’s forearm, scratches surrounding the wound. Hyunjin pulled his sleeve back down, holding his Innie’s face in his hands.

“Don’t worry, Innie, I’m fine. I promise,” he reassured. He brushed his thumbs across Jeongin’s cheeks, wiping away the tears that were falling down his face. “I promise you. You can’t hurt me, baby.”

If being with Jeongin meant he would have to endure the worst of the worst, as bad as being stabbed and borderline brutalised, then Hyunjin would still be with him. If being with Jeongin meant Hyunjin would have to be the responsible, caretaking one, then he would still be with him. If being with Jeongin made Hyunjin servile and lesser than, then he would be servile and lesser than for Jeongin. He would do anything for Jeongin.

—

Escaping the stress of their complicated relationships and exacting work lives was a blessing for both Felix and Jeongin and escaping them together seemed like a good way to go about it. Felix decided to show his friend a half-decent restaurant located between the inner- and outer-city, one he was familiar with.

They were walking up on it now when Felix gestured towards it, letting Jeongin know to go inside this building. He noticed Jeongin furrow his brows in confusion as he gazed up at the bold-lettered sign hanging above the front window of the joint. When questioned why he was perplexed by the small business, Jeongin simply said, “the sign says it’s closed for renovation.”

Felix chuckled at this, knowing better than to trust that sign. If he listened to it, this restaurant would have been closed for renovation for upwards of ten years now and he likely wouldn’t have ever entered in the first place. It had been Ana who brought him here in the beginning, as a surprise for him when she thought he was old enough for table manners.

This place was known as Limbo; a bistro located in the direct middle of Heaven and Hell, the inner-city and the outer. Whenever Ana scraped together the funds to come here, they had very different intentions when walking inside. Felix was able to gorge on some of the most delicious food he had ever come across, stuffing himself to the brim with whatever he was allowed to. Ana, however, came here to get higher than a kite with the other patrons and escape the harsh reality she was living in.

For a handful of years, Felix hadn’t wondered why they came here from time to time. He just knew that when they went to Limbo, he got more food than his malnourished body could handle, and Ana was always happier than she was at home. Only in later years did he realise what was really going on; that this was a drug den disguised as a restaurant.

Still, it was the best food he’d ever eaten.

“I should warn you,” Felix prefaced before they went in, “there are a lot of very high people in here. Don’t worry, though. If anyone tries anything, I know the owner.”

This did not seem to reassure Jeongin as much as Felix believed it would. Yet, he made no complaints, which was enough for Felix to continue on his way and head inside. They stepped into Limbo, being met with a horrendously potent burnt grass smell, a low fog hanging in the air. Jeongin coughed a little, covering his mouth and nose with the back of his hand to filter the breaths he was taking.

Felix linked their arms, guiding Jeongin through the smoky haze and the tiny horde of customers lounging around on rickety couches. Jeongin would get used to the scent quickly, just as Felix had when he first came here. They passed through the front room into the dining area, which was lit with warm-toned luminescence and the cosy ambiance Felix had fallen in love with.

The building was narrow on the inside, one long bench lining a wall with wooden stools pulled up to it, and four-person tables stationed along the room. Half of the seats were taken already, hungry individuals sitting and chowing down on some food to stave off their munchies. He brought Jeongin to a set of stools near the back of the restaurant, taking a seat there.

A laminated, yellow-stained menu sat before each other them, but Felix didn’t need to look at its contents to know what he wanted. He got the same thing every time. He was intrigued, however, by what Jeongin may choose, seeing as he had no idea what food he usually ate.

“Have you eaten out before?” He asked, sparking up some casual conversation.

“No; I wasn’t really allowed outside as a kid or... anywhere, honestly,” Jeongin revealed, eyeing the meal options laid out in front of him. “I didn’t know what a restaurant even was until I was, like, 20.” He laughed to himself, finding a joke hidden somewhere in his embarrassing tale.

“Really?” Felix said, surprised. He smiled as well. “I didn’t know what a boxing bag looked like until about three days ago, and I’m nearly 25. So, I guess we have that in common.”

Jeongin looked up from the menu, puzzlement written all over his face.

“You didn’t know what a boxing bag looked like?”

“Nope. I had no clue,” Felix admitted with a faux solemn shake of his head.

Jeongin remarked on this with a natural oh my god, before his attention fell back on the menu. His finger landed on one of the items written out, so Felix looked closer at what he was pointing out. “I think I’ll just get mandu and dak-galbi.”

Felix’s jaw nearly dropped, a grin finding its way to his expression. “That’s what I always get,” he spoke excitedly. “You have very good taste.”

The two ordered and once they had their twinning serves of dinner, they began to eat. One bite in and Jeongin was letting out a noise of satisfaction, commenting to Felix that this food was as fantastic as he’d been told. They ate in a comfortable silence, comforting thoughts swarming Felix’s mind.

He was overjoyed that he could show somebody like Jeongin a wonderful hole-in-wall joint like this one, a place which had brought so much peace to Felix when he was young. Jisung had been here, too, but Jeongin just seemed like a person who needed a break more than others. He needed a place to de-stress and forget about what went on outside these walls, just like Felix did.

Jeongin was halfway through the action of taking a bite when he paused, shaking his head a little.

“This is weird,” he stated bluntly, putting his food back on the plate and stirring it around a little. He appeared to waver before he ate anything else.

“I thought you said you liked the food?”

“The food is fine. It’s doing this; hanging out and chatting. I feel strangely normal,” he expressed, discomfort showing in his abruptly stiff mannerisms.

“Yeah, it’s a bizarre feeling when you can just exist without consequence,” Felix concurred, understanding how Jeongin felt. “It’s liberating, in a way, you know? I like being able to simply sit and think and ignore everything for a while. I think everyone should have a place they can go to and do nothing. It soothes the soul, as Ana would say.”

This apparently subdued the malaise that Jeongin was experiencing, for he returned to eating once again. He nodded in agreement and took another bite of his food.

A moment later, he asked, “wait, who’s Ana?”

There were many things to be said about Ana. She was once a protector of those she loved, one who didn’t hesitate when a danger presented itself. She had been a parental figure for him and had done the best she could despite her young age when she began taking care of him. She had basically raised him since birth, spoilt him the best she could, gave him the most average life a kid in that situation could provide.

She’d also been a thoughtful and intelligent woman who knew her way around, who had taught herself how the streets worked and how she could use that knowledge to her advantage. In many respects, Felix saw himself in Ana. It was his greatest pride to be her brother.

“Ana’s my sister. Was, I should say. She’s not around anymore,” Felix explained, staring down at his platters. After all these years, he still grew reluctant to speak of Ana in past tense. Jeongin winced at the new information.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know that.”

“It’s fine, I’ve come to terms with it now. Sort of. She’s actually the whole reason I joined SKZ,” Felix disclosed openly, feeling safe to speak with Jeongin about this kind of thing. He had the story for this straight, so the lies could easily roll off his tongue when he needed them to.

“How so?” Jeongin inquired, readily listening. He had food stuffed into his cheeks in a way that made his look younger than he was and Felix could help but feel fond.

Felix finished the mouthful he was chewing on, replying with, “NOKC had her killed. I despise them for it.”

“I don’t blame you.” Jeongin took a moment to gather a load of thoughts that were evidently whirring about in his brain. His voice got quieter when he spoke next. “I have siblings, too. They’re technically not related to me, though. It’s hard to explain.”

“You don’t have to explain it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do want to,” Jeongin stated, determination in his tone. “I tried telling Hyunjin, but it wasn’t a good time to talk about it then, so I haven’t had a chance to properly speak about this. I want to tell you.”

Felix nodded, encouraging his friend to speak his mind. This was obviously something that was weighing on him for some time now, so it would be best for Jeongin to get it off his chest. Felix listened and watched. He observed the slight tremor in the chopsticks Jeongin was holding as he went to divulge in this story. He noticed the faraway look in his friend’s eyes as he let his mouth do all the work, shutting his mind off while he spoke.

“I have 49 siblings.” He leaned in, whispering now. “I’m part of the Trial Generation. All my siblings and I were made synthetically, but we grew up so close and... it’s only us who know the cruelty of what we went through, so we were really close. I haven’t seen them in so long, though. I miss them all the time and it’s really hard to find any who are still alive. It’s horrible.”

Felix could only show that he was hearing what was being said. It was hard to know how to respond to a life story such as this one, so he kept nodding when it was appropriate.

“I was supposed to grow up and be this imaginary, extremely clever, attractive genius. That’s the whole reason I was made. But instead, NOKC somehow created a guy who is unbelievably unstable and has a thing for murderous men who don’t know right from wrong. All my life, I’ve longed to be normal, but now that I’ve had a slight taste of normality, it feels so gross,” Jeongin imparted. He placed his chopsticks down and hid his shaking hands in his lap underneath the bench.

“I hate NOKC for fiddling with human lives. Maybe I could’ve had a normal childhood, or parents, or a normal relationship. Hyunjin and I were made for each other, I know that, but sometimes I wonder if I’m good for him. I was created crazy and... I don’t know how he puts up with me.”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Felix interjected, sensing some self-loathing in Jeongin’s words that he needed to combat. “You are a very kind man as far as I can tell. Crazy doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“No, Felix,” Jeongin disagreed, frowning deeply. “I’ve done some really terrible things to Hyunjin. I’ve said and done unforgivable things, and he always brushes it off like it’s nothing. I don’t know how to stop myself. I get explosive and emotional and then I hurt people I love. I don’t want to keep doing that. I have some theories about what went wrong in NOKC’s process of making me, but I just need more time to fully work it out.”

So that’s why he reads textbooks, Felix thought, mentally connecting the dots. He’s trying to figure out what went wrong so he can improve himself. Jeongin, I think you’re much kinder than you believe yourself to be.

“I see. But wouldn’t you say that trying to better yourself already makes you a good person?” Felix proposed, only to be met with eyes that told a million words. Jeongin’s face held so much. Horrors that no person should confront in their lifetimes, regrets that dug so deep it physically ailed him and amounts of guilt that were incredibly overwhelming for a singular person to feel.

“Felix, I really like you as a friend and I think we have a lot in common, but you are terribly mistaken on this.”

—

Talking with Jeongin put a lot of things into perspective for Felix. Hearing about the other man’s backstory and really getting to understand what he had been through in his short lifetime forced Felix to think about what he, himself, had also been through. Conclusively, Felix was dragged through mud and pummelled with bricks throughout his life — figuratively speaking, of course.

Felix had been thrown into Ana’s care when she was only nine years old, abandoned by their parents, who he never had a chance to properly meet. Ana was the best caregiver she could be at such a young age, taking care of him as a child who couldn’t walk or talk. He had seen the horrors of the world through his sister and standing next to her; had seen the blood and bruises it left behind at any chance it could dig its nails in.

His talk with Jeongin got him ruminating over Ana and the consequences of her passing. He was shattered. Entirely, he was broken. He remembered crying for days on end, convincing himself that there was only one way out of this nightmare. He went from having a job, an income, a house and a sister, to having absolutely nothing.

The only person who’d been there with him while he was suffering from devastation was Jisung, his only friend — his best friend. Thinking back over those trying times reminded Felix that he shouldn’t allow conflict to get between himself and a friend like Jisung, so he decided to face the issue at hand and tuck away his pride.

He phoned Jisung on his way to the tobacconist.
He strolled down the bustling sidewalk, his running shoes muffled as they fell on the concrete pavement. He held the phone up to his ear as he ducked down a side street to get away from the larger crowds. It was quieter down this way, even if it took him longer to reach his destination. Privacy was scarce in a place like this.

With little delay, the call was answered, the other end staying silent, which was different to Jisung’s usual fashion. Felix knew it was because his friend wanted him to be mature and start the conversation. With and uncontained roll of his eyes, Felix sighed.

“Hey, Ji.”

“Are you ready to talk now?” Jisung questioned immediately, his tone reading one of hostility. He was generally not an angry person, so it was rather strange to hear his transparent ire through the line.

“Yeah, I’m ready to talk,” Felix conceded, dragging his feet along the narrow path that lined the edge of the establishment he was walking behind. “Sorry about before, I was being irrational.”

“You were, but I’m glad you’ve come to your senses now. So, have you told Chan about your history at NOKC yet?”

Felix took a controlled breath, trying to calm himself so his next statement came across as final. He cared a lot for Jisung, but he couldn’t let him know that he was hesitating on this matter. “I’m not going to tell him,” he said decidedly.

“For fuck’s sake, Felix. What did I tell you—”

“Wait, wait, hear me out. Please, Ji, just hear me out on this one.”

“Fine. What?” Jisung huffed, evidently done with Felix and his shenanigans.

Felix ducked his head, looking around himself and the few people passing by him in the quiet street. An elderly woman held the hands of two children, rushing down the path to the opposite end of the road. They weren’t speaking, just hurriedly speed-walking to wherever they needed to go, minding their own business.

A trio stood by a dumpster, all men, all dressed for the icy weather. They were exchanging hushed small talk, keeping their own eyes peeled for eavesdroppers. Finally, there was a man and a woman at the exit of the street, screaming at one another over some matter. Felix glanced between the separate groups, concluding he’d be safe enough to whisper what he needed to.

“You know how much working at NOKC affected me. You saw how much of a wreck I was after Ana died, and you know better than anyone else that I would do anything to bring down their empire for good. If I tell Chan—” Felix kept looking around “—if I tell him about my past, then I’ll be throwing away the best chance I have at destroying the company. I’m sure you also know what Chan would do if he knew I used to work there.”

“Yes, I do know.” Jisung sighed contemplatively. “He wouldn’t handle it well.”

“That’s exactly why I can’t tell him,” Felix asserted, passing by the shouting pair. He left the side-street and found himself strolling down another main road, which was significantly busier than the alley he’d just come from. He kept his head low.

“How about your relationship with him, then?” Jisung posed the question, “What are you going to do if he does happen to find out and it sends him off the rails? It’s not only going to hurt him deeply, but you’ll suffer, too.”

Felix shivered, remembering how Im Sangjun had ended up after slighting Chan. He couldn’t imagine what would happen to him if he made Chan feel deceived after spending so much time together, especially their moments outside of work. Chan had placed a large amount of trust in Felix, and he would feel so, so terrible if that was betrayed.

“I know. I just... don’t want to think about something like that ever happening.”

“All right, how about this: if you can answer this question in an acceptable way, I’ll drop this. We won’t have to talk about this again,” Jisung offered. Felix felt like they were getting somewhere with thus conversation now, there being less arguing and more fixing the issue at hand. He was lucky to have a friend like Jisung.

“Okay, what’s the question?”

“Would you feel worse for yourself or for Chan if he ever found out about you working at NOKC?”

He considered the ask for a moment — really thought about it because it was the type of question that got him thinking hard. His pace slowed, conserving energy for his brain to come up with a reasonable answer.

“There’s no black and white answer to that,” he told, following the crowd around him. It was harder to tell if anyone was listening in a bustle like this, so he spoke with caution. “Of course, I’d feel like shit. If that happened, I’d be afraid Chan might dismember me, and I know I’d feel so fucking disappointed that I wouldn’t be part of the people who eventually take down NOKC. But I also know how Chan would react. He’d be furious. He would probably feel like he was betrayed and used.”

He sighed. “I don’t know how to answer that, Ji; there are too many different outcomes that could happen if he ever found out.”

Jisung hummed thoughtfully.

“You’ve grown a lot, Lix. I hope you know that,” he remarked, his tone swimming in genuineness. “What you just said is enough of an answer for me. It’s settled then; I promise not to bring this up again unless the situation calls for it. I can forgive your stupidity this time but beware for next time you do something dumb.”

“A dumbass knows its own kind,” Felix commented, sensing a shift in the feel of their discussion.

“If I’m a dumbass, then you aren’t far from one, too.”

“Whatever you say, man,” he mocked. He smiled to himself, happy to have that conversation over and done with. It had been drowning him for days now just thinking about it, so he was glad it was done.

“So,” Jisung diverted, “what’s been happening at SKZ while you’ve been ignoring me? I haven’t had an update in a while.”

Felix’s mind instantly landed on the soreness of his arms and legs from the training he’d been doing with Changbin. Every day he was in the gym, building up his strength and technique.

It hadn’t felt like he was getting anywhere with the sessions, but Changbin had said countless times that Felix was a natural and it wouldn’t be long before he could fight in the ring. He was not keen on sparring with anyone but Changbin and a boxing bag, so he hoped it would a long time before he was thrown into the ring.

“Well, I’ve started taking boxing lessons and going to the gym. I figured out that Changbin wants me dead or something, because he definitely pushes me to my limits,” Felix divulged, getting flashbacks to only yesterday when he’d fallen asleep on the arena floor after a particularly exhausting lesson. Changbin had been merciful then, letting him sleep off his tire and waking him up before it got too late in the evening.

“I can’t imagine you with muscles.”

“Hey!” Felix defended, a little louder than he would’ve liked to, but it got the point across.

“In all the years I’ve known you, your only muscles are in your brain. Take it as a compliment,” Jisung teased.

“Sure, I believe you,” Felix said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Anyways, aside from that... SKZ know about Vil now.”

“Vil? Like the Vi Liquida kind of Vil?”

“Yes, the Vi Liquida kind. The one I told you about,” he confirmed as he came to a crossing, moving with the flow of foot traffic to get to the other side of the main road. He ducked into another narrow alleyway, finding peaceful solitude in the confined walkway.

Those four years ago when Felix had finalised his decision to leave NOKC once and for all, Jisung had been there to listen to his horror stories. Importantly, he’d been told about the fear invoked in Felix after only a single dosage of Vil. He had been there to see the after-effects of the hazardous liquid.

“Hmm...” Jisung hummed. He clicked his tongue. “All right, I’ll see what I can do to help.”

“I’m not asking you to do that, Ji.” Felix navigated his way out of the cut-through, strolling down the street where his destination was located.

“But I’m going to. I have a feeling I know some people who might be of interest to SKZ if you’re wanting to know more about Vil,” his friend offered.

“As much as Chan would appreciate the help, telling him who the people responsible for Vil are won’t be necessary,” Felix explained. His eyes wandered, trailing to the front of the tobacconist as he made his way over to it. “I’ve already let him know who the lead scientists are and their addresses. He’s already got plans on what to do with them, I assume.” He halted in front of the smoke shop. His body froze, and his eyes caught on the poster taped to the door of the business.

Jisung was halfway through a sentence when Felix cut him off with a short apology. “Ji, sorry, but something came up just now. It was good talking to you.” And then, he hung up with a wince. He knew Jisung would grill him for this later.

However, his best friend scolding him yet again was the least of his concerns when accounting for the piece of paper he was staring at: a wanted poster. With his face on it. He reached up and tore the page down, inspecting it closer, and already beginning to spin on his heel to go back to the Levanter Hostel.

WANTED ALIVE
₩10,000,000 REWARD

And right there in the middle of the paper was a cropped photograph of Felix, clearly derived from a security camera in the heart of the city. In the picture, he had on the same psychedelic hoodie he’d worn that day he was confronted by those police officers. He screwed the poster up into a ball, dumping it in a rubbish bin as he was hurrying past one. He felt his downfall nearing.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SEVEN: CAUGHT, DISCPLINED OR DEAD

The salt on your lips and the hands that God gave you

When Chan first met Felix, he had the overwhelming urge to control him; not like a puppeteer would do with a doll, but in the way a lover yearned to keep their partner in a heart-shaped box filled with all the good in the world. Every time he watched through the security cameras as Felix left the Levanter Hostel, he felt like the endearing man was slipping away from him and further into the suffocating claws that the city possessed.

He wanted to keep him safe and far away from the darkness lurking in the outer-city, but knew if he took away Felix’s freedom entirely, it would make him feel miserable. Felix was, at the end of the day, a free spirit. Perhaps Chan wished he was less considerate so he could lock Felix in a cosy cage without feeling guilty for revoking the man’s basic rights.

Perhaps he was feeding into childish fantasy when he imagined Felix happily daydreaming behind bolted doors and barred windows, not having to worry about anything at all. Yet, the thought of Felix surrounded by pastel colours, stuffed animals and heavenly carelessness was so enticing that Chan had to at least try reach this goal. He needed to at least try to recreate a semblance of this fantasy.

So, the first thing he did after he woke up was text Felix.

Chan:
Good morning baby~
Let’s do something together, let me spoil you tonight~

He was going to ask Felix to move into his penthouse. Even though the stage in their relationship was ambiguous at this current point in time, Chan felt like he needed Felix close at all moments. He worried for the other’s safety any time he was out of sight because he knew how unpredictable the world was, and how at any second Felix could be snatched up or hurt. The need to protect him was insatiable.

Chan was drawn to Felix like a deer to headlights, like a drunk to pink, neon signs, and like a common street rat to trouble. Those big, wonderous eyes were unmissable. There was a pearly white innocence held in those eyes, which stared deep into Chan’s soul and embedded an image of them into his brain. Burning passion and an ethereal glimmer always pulled Chan’s concentration away from anything else in the room.

Felix was magnetic.

Felix’s attention was addictive, too. Chan had felt it back in the basement when he was dealing with Im Sangjun. Having those eyes on him, unflinching and never looking away, was another kind of high. It was selfish of him to bring such personal feelings of obsession into the work environment, but it couldn’t be helped. It was difficult to remain professional when Felix was around.

If he tried hard enough, Chan could convince himself he was falling in love; or something along those lines. He still didn’t know how to differentiate between love and possession. Whatever it was he was feeling, though, it only compelled him more to want to persuade Felix to move in with him.

Tonight, he would make it his mission to treat Felix like royalty, spoil him in the way he so deserved. He was going to prepare something magnificent to show Felix how he’d be cared for if he would say yes to moving in. Chan would gift him the breakfast-in-bed and kisses in the morning type of devotion. There was no wedding planned, but he’d already made the vow to give everything to Felix. And with the sight of his phone screen lighting up with a new message, the upcoming night was set in motion.

Mine ♡:
Will it be fancy attire this time?


—


Having never been up to Chan’s room before, Felix could feel the excitement bubbling inside him. The elevator rose and so did his anticipation, taking him to the top floor of the hostel, and opening its doors to reveal a small, lowly lit lobby. He stepped out into the space, his shiny, black boots finally fitting in with the stylish navy-blue carpet. The rest of his outfit complimented his shoes, straight-legged leather pants and an oversized, silky shirt to match. The gentle green accents pulled the whole thing together, or at least that was what Jeongin and Hyunjin had agreed on.

As Felix had noted before, he never had a chance to develop style. To save himself the embarrassment of showing up to a dinner date in mismatched clothes, he’d called for Jeongin to help. Obviously, Hyunjin tagged along. The couple had worked magic and put together a simplistic, yet elegant ensemble. Felix couldn’t thank them enough.

A few bangles, which hung from his wrist, jingled as he moved through the doorway. He assumed this would lead him to the rest of the apartment, and he was proven correct when a dining room came into view. He was astonished by not only the size of the place, but also the romantic atmosphere that had been set up in here.

A waft of smooth vanilla overwhelmed his senses, a complete contrast to the fishy smell he’d grown used to over the years. The lighting was warm-toned, the whole dining room, leading further into the loungeroom behind it, was lit by an estimated hundred candles. The gentle flames created a homely heat, naturally drawing Felix’s body to wander into the ambiance. He went up to the grand dinner table, admiring the fanciful candelabra positioned in the centre.

There were two vases full of red and white roses, their thorns trimmed, leaving only the beauty to see. Scarlet ribbons tied in a bow were secured around each one, the material tendrils swooping towards the oak surface of the table. Empty wine glasses stood beside a bottle of wine, ready to be opened and shared. Felix had never seen so much clear effort put into something. In a wonderful way, he was taken aback by this traditionally romantic, candle-lit evening.

He started at the sound of a throat clearing. His head turned to find Chan strolling into the room from one of the few hallways. Chan had on one of his many well-fitted suits, this one a matte ocean colour, paired with a black button-up underneath the blazer. The buttons were done up scandalously low, revealing much of his toned chest to Felix, who was quite obviously staring. He would never get used to Chan’s looks.

“You made it fine, I see,” Chan noted, wearing a charming smile. He sauntered up to the table, sliding one of the chairs out and motioning towards it. “Have a seat; dinner will be ready in a moment.”

Felix wandered to the chair that was pulled out for him and sat down, feeling giddy. He watched Chan leave momentarily, returning a minute later holding two plates. He set one down for Felix and the other for himself, taking the chair beside his date. The smell of toasty, home-cooked food mingled with the vanilla in the air. Felix had the brief thought that this was what heaven might smell like

Before him was sliced meat, perfectly cooked and set out in a crescent line around the edge of the plate. There was an assortment of seasoned vegetables taking up most of the spread, ranging from roast potatoes to little onions, chopped carrots and crisp broccolini. A small jug was placed on the side of his plate, holding a deep claret sauce in it. His mouth watered.

“This is…”

He was speechless.

Chan took a fork and one of the steak knives laid out and began to cut up the tender meat into bite-sized pieces; except, he was not cutting his own food. He sliced off a bit of the gently steaming food, dipping a corner of it into the mystery sauce. Then, with a composed look, he held the meat up for Felix to take into his mouth.

This realm of life was unfamiliar to Felix. It held a stereotypical, albeit sincere, romantic pursuit portrayed by the most beautiful man he’d ever met. The scene before him did not feel like reality, rather it felt derived from one of those love stories he was obsessed with in his teenage years. All Felix could do was stare for a moment. His line of sight went straight past the food, landing on Chan, stupefaction written all over his face.

He came to the devastating realisation that this was no longer just sex and a job. This was a commitment. This was a bond that Chan wanted between them, but it was a dangerous one. Felix had been playing with hot coal for a while now but sharing this kind of intimacy was like sticking his whole hand into the fireplace. Whether it would burn him or keep him warm, only time would tell.

He took the bite of food that was offered to him, shoving his hand into the fireplace. The meat melted in his mouth, soft to chew and filled with flavour. The sauce was thin but loaded with a tangy, rich taste that made it so not much was needed. This mouthful, this flavour, this atmosphere – it all made Felix’s heart flutter.

I think I’m falling in love.

The sudden thought was jarring, bringing him back to where exactly he was right now. He was a fugitive, a gang member, a man who was effectively lying his way into bringing down a criminal empire. He was hiding so much from Chan; Chan, who was treating him like royalty, literally feeding him what he so desired. This life was starting to grow on him, though, leaving him feeling dizzy in Chan’s presence.

“Can I make a toast?” he requested after finishing the delectable food in his mouth.

“Of course.” Chan happily poured them both a glass of the wine from the table. He held his glass up, as did Felix, and smiled.

“A toast,” Felix announced, “to… commitments.”

“Commitments?” Chan asked, bemused.

“Yeah,” Felix said, almost breathless. “Commitment to our work and what we stand for. Commitment to justice, vengeance and cleansing the world. Commitment to doing what we can to achieve what we want. And most importantly-” he met eyes with Chan “-commitment to each other.”

“I’ll toast to that,” Chan concurred. They touched their glasses, drinking down some of the strong, smooth beverage. Chan took a sip, and Felix nearly emptied his glass.

—

The crackle of the radio hummed in the background. The song that was playing sounded like any other cheesy pop beat. They had finished dinner a while ago, staving away any lasting hunger by filling their stomachs with wine. It had worked in Felix’s favour because he preferred being drunk over being burdened with sober reality.

He was cuddled up to Chan on the couch, the two of them slotted into the long seat like sardines in a tin. Felix had one leg sprawled across Chan’s, cosying up to his warmness. Outside, beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, was an inky black sky, its stars obscured by pollution, but beautiful, nonetheless.

“Be honest,” Felix slurred, “what do you think of me?” The question had been lingering in the forefront of his drunken brain, urgently needing to be asked.

“Be honest, you say? Are you sure you want to hear that?” Chan joked.

“Is it bad?” Felix worried.

“No, it isn’t bad at all.”

“Then tell me,” he pried with a pout.

“Hmm…” Chan contemplated, pursing his lips. “Have you ever heard the song Spiracle?”

“No, I haven’t. Is it romantic?” Felix was giggling, a lazy grin on his face.

“Oh, it’s very romantic. The whole song is about how a lover wants everything about her partner, and how she accepts all the pretty parts and all the flaws. She wants everything, no matter how insignificant or unflattering,” Chan explained; his tone was light, but his words held a lot of depth.

“Tell me some of the lyrics?”

“Let me see if I can remember it properly...” Chan thought for a minute, his lips moving subconsciously as he tried to recall. He moved to take Felix’s hand in his own, intertwining their fingers, and resting their hands on his front. He then looked down at Felix, staring into his soul the way he always did, and he recited,

“I want the parts of you you only show
To the corner of your bathroom mirror
I want the parts of your hand-grenade heart
That beat slowly with anger and fear...”

Felix looked up at him, enchanted by the poetry. It was safe to say he was positively starstruck by this man.

“And there was another part that I rather like. It reminds me of us. What was it?” Chan slid out from Felix’s side, changing their position and crawling on top of him. Felix felt butterflies storming in his stomach. “I remember now. It goes,

I want your quiet, your screaming and thrashing
The salt on your lips and the hands that God gave you…”

He moved to pin Felix’s hands down on the couch, the touch careful but firm. He ghosted a kiss over Felix’s lips, which, quite frankly, drove the man to impatience. He went to deepen the kiss and Chan retracted, smirking, teasing him.

“And I want your violence, your silent sedation
Your moon eyes, your telescope, morbid fixation...”

Felix grinded his hips up into Chan, urging him to take action and to stop playing with him. He knew this evening would eventually lead to them fooling around and had been very patient up until now. Chan was cruel for testing him like this. His head was in a daze, completely devoid of any thoughts beyond Chan, Chan, Chan. His eyes were locked on the man, waiting for him to make his move.

“And I want your pyro, your born-again virgin
Your hands on my insides, your fingertips crawling…”

Chan finally rolled his hips against Felix, feeding him a little, slowly quenching his sensual thirst. He pressed their lips together, properly kissing Felix, giving into his desire. He pulled away for a second, only to breathe, “Baby, move in with me.”

Felix grinned, the alcohol forcing a chuckle out of him. Chan’s request sounded silly. “Move in with you? But we live in the same building?”

“I want to be with you.” Chan’s mouth trailed along his jaw, leaving behind little kisses in a fashion Felix adored. “In every way,” he murmured against Felix’s skin.

Although the concept of moving upstairs to live with Chan in his penthouse seemed ridiculous, Felix thought on the idea. It would certainly be nice. If this was how Chan was going to treat him — decorated home-cooked meals and discussions over wine, sex wherever and whenever they pleased — then what was stopping Felix from taking this opportunity?

His lies. The ones he had told and the ones he was bound to tell; they were what made him hesitate. This was a step directly into a real relationship and the way out of this fling they had going on. The Lee Yongbok who’d worked for NOKC tried crawling out of the reasonable part of his brain, but the Lee Felix that was trapped beneath Chan looked the other way. Later, he might blame this all on the alcohol, but for now, he was going to revel in the moment.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “yeah, I’ll move in with you. On one condition.” He bit his lip, eyeing Chan salaciously. “You have to fuck me so hard I forget my name.”

It was Chan’s turn to laugh breathlessly, already moving to slip off his blazer, beginning to unbutton his undershirt. His evident entertainment was for nought, because Felix wasn’t talking dirty. He was being completely serious but did so with a kittenish smirk to keep up the act. Chan snagged onto the bait, cocking his head, and gazing down at Felix with a hungered look on his face.

“You know, for someone who claims to be a good boy, you’ve got quite the naughty mouth,” he remarked. He removed his button-up and let it fall gracefully to the floor. “Should do something about that.”

“Do what? Are you gonna throat fuck me so I learn how to talk sweeter?” Felix teased. He undid his own silky shirt, revealing the milky skin underneath. His muscles had been building thanks to Changbin’s intense training regime, and he could see Chan glazing over his toned body with darkened eyes.

“Keep talking like that and I might have to,” Chan threatened. He beat Felix to the zipper on his pants, undoing them and letting Felix’s bulge breathe a little. He tugged Felix’s trousers off and rid of them, pressing his hand to the front of him and palming his erection.

Felix let out a clipped moan, not ready for the sudden contact. He wanted more.

“Gonna stick your cock in my mouth, hmm? You gonna make me take it because I’m misbehaving?” He prodded. He moved to sit up and slide his shirt over his shoulders, but Chan was faster to pin his wrists above his head, surprising him a bit. He didn’t complain though, just continued, “Is someone annoyed because his good boy is being bad?”

“You’re testing your luck, baby boy,” Chan growled. Felix heard a promise in his words, like if he kept talking then Chan might take full control and finally shut him up. It only encouraged Felix; a bratty confidence taking over him.

“And what are you gonna do about it, Channie? If you keep doing nothing, I might just go home,” he pressed further, waiting. “Poor Channie can’t tame his supposed good boy. Can’t stop him from saying naughty things.”

“You know what I’m going to do?” Chan asked rhetorically, interrupting Felix’s provocative teasing. He used one hand to hold down Felix’s wrists, the other moving to run his thumb over the other man’s plump lower lip. He gently pried open Felix’s mouth, pushing his digit in. Lips closed around his thumb and Felix swirled his tongue around it, tasting Chan.

“I’ll fuck you into obedience.” He thrust his finger back and forth in controlled manner, adding another two when he noticed Felix was getting too comfortable. He wanted to make him squirm. “And if it doesn’t work the first time, then we’ll stay on this couch until it does.”

Felix hummed around his fingers, adjusting his head in a way that made them sink further into his mouth. He took it well, licking at Chan’s fingers to show him how good he could be. And then, just to test Chan’s patience, he bit down carefully, enough to have the man pulling away but not hurt by the action. He giggled. This, at last, prompted Chan to tug Felix closer to the middle of the sofa, closer to where Chan’s own hard-on was.

“No more games, baby,” Chan said, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling out his throbbing erection. “You’ve played enough.” Felix was facing the consequences to his actions, and he embraced it with open arms. When Chan thrust his cock into Felix’s mouth, he gagged, followed by a moan.

He lifted his head to take more of Chan, bobbing with the limited space between the man’s body and the cushion. Chan was fucking into him in an agonisingly slow manner, returning the teasing. He pulled out just enough to let Felix breathe for a second before driving back into him, deep. Felix was taking it so good, working his tongue like a professional, sucking dick like a good boy should.

With his hands now free, Felix wrapped them around the base of Chan’s cock and moved them with the rhythm they had settled into. This elicited a lewd groan from Chan, encouraging Felix to keep going. He heard the man swear under his breath and looked up, cock still in his mouth. He saw sweat beaded around Chan’s forehead, face flushed, hair ruffled already.

He whined when Chan pulled out all the way. Very quickly, though, he was being flipped over onto his stomach, breathless and dazed. His underwear was tugged off and discarded, leaving his ass bare and propped up for Chan. He choked on a moan when he felt two saliva-slicked fingers drive into him, his body quivering at the stimulation.

He moved back, pushing the digits further into himself, acting on an instinctive need for his arousal to be satiated. He felt Chan’s other hand card through his hair, tightening his hold at the roots and tugging his head back. Hot breath met his neck.

“Enough of that. Don’t forget who’s in charge, baby boy,” Chan purred in Felix’s ear. To make true on his word, he thrusted his fingers in deep, hard, simultaneously pulling at Felix’s hair, and drawing out a pleasured cry from the man.

If Felix wasn’t gone already, then he was after, once again, Chan replaced his fingers with his cock and began to fuck into Felix like there was no tomorrow. The friction was painful for a moment, no lube to ease the motions, but he grew used to the feeling. Sweat coated him like a second skin, the air around their bodies impossibly heated.

For the time Chan was screwing him into oblivion, Felix forgot about the lies and deceit. He forgot about NOKC, about what he had been training for recently, about this new job he was thrown into, and he forgot about his friendship struggles. Most importantly, he forgot his name. There was no Lee Yongbok within the walls of the Levanter Hostel. He didn’t live as the man he’d been in the past, rather was only known as Felix: lost and troubled Felix who had a yearning for revenge for his dead sister.

For one liberating moment, Lee Yongbok didn’t exist.

—

At first, the incoming call didn’t seem curious in any capacity. For Jisung, receiving calls from numbers both known and unknown was the norm, and he’d become accustomed to hearing his phone ring. So, it wasn’t unusual to hear his shrill ringtone sing out as he was relaxing in his apartment. He sighed loudly, tired from doing nothing all day. If he wasn’t already expecting a few important calls today, he would’ve ignored the call in favour of taking a nap.

To his misfortune, he knew better than to dismiss the ringing. He reached across his narrow bed and, like it was second nature to him, picked up the call without needing to properly look at what buttons he was pressing. He propped a smile on his face, hoping it would help him sound more awake than he felt.

“Hello, who is it?” His sentence came out as a lazy sing-song, which was about as much effort as he could muster in this present time.

“Is this Han Jisung I’m speaking with?” An unrecognisable woman’s voice asked, her words well pronounced. Her tone was smooth, calculated; like she was trying to ease him into a sense of security. This did the opposite of what she was clearly aiming for, causing his guard to shoot up. He sat up in his bed, alarmed by this stranger.

“Who is this?” He repeated, not confirming nor denying his own identity. There were specific people he was supposed to be hearing from over the next week and he knew none of them would be shy about disclosing their names.

“You have quite a familiar name in the slums, I hear. A name that has been circulating around the inner-city these days, too. You’re quite the celebrity, Han Jisung,” she mentioned, something impure in the way she was drawling her sentences. She sounded like a snake, unlike anyone Jisung was expecting to call this week.

“Don’t flatter me,” he responded shortly. “Tell me who you are, or I’ll hang up.”

“Just... an old friend of Yongbok’s.”

Jisung’s heart raced after hearing Felix’s government name. People didn’t just know that name from anywhere. They had to know Felix to be aware of this kind of thing. For years now, his best friend had always told him that there were very minimal people who know of his real name, one of them being Jisung himself, and, notably, another being,

“Pi Yongmi.”

“Ah, you’ve heard of me, then. Lovely.”

Jisung got up from his bed, shifting his curtain to look down at the streets below his apartment complex. The flow of foot traffic was heavy as always, with solemnly dressed individuals and families passing by one another on the paths, or crossing the road, or ducking in and out of shops. Nobody suspicious stood out immediately, but he knew that didn’t mean he was safe. Pi Yongmi was the most powerful woman in the country. If she wanted something from him, then she would get it by any means necessary.

“Don’t stand up on my accord,” she cackled through the phone line. “Make yourself comfortable; I only want to chat.”

She could see him. The question was, where were her eyes? They could be right down there by the road, staring up at him from a concealed position. They could be tiny cameras hidden away in a pile of clothes on the ground that he hadn’t touched for weeks or tucked away between the cracks in the decaying walls.

He stepped back into the room, whipping his head around and scrutinising every minute detail in his bedroom. Nothing seemed out of place, nothing appeared to be added into the items scattered around the place. He could hear Yongmi laughing heartily through the cell phone as he scavenged through every possible place a device could be hidden.

“You won’t find what you’re looking for, Hannie,” she taunted. He turned speaker on and dropped the phone down on his bed. He would need both hands to pull apart his apartment. “Anyways, I have a proposal for you. It really is an offer you can’t refuse,” Yongmi articulated.

Jisung started prying open each and every drawer in the room, shuffling around all of his personal belongings with the hope of getting Yongmi’s vision off him. He was suddenly very alert and very awake. There was panic in the way he discarded all the socks from their drawer on the carpet, followed by the pants in the storage space below. He made no attempt to reply or engage with the woman on the phone.

“I know you can hear me,” she stated blatantly. “If you’ll listen, I can tell you exactly what happened to your brother. Jihoon, yes?”

His head turned so fast it caused him to feel dizzy, staring at the phone. There was no possible way Yongmi knew about his brother. There was no way; he refused to believe it. Jihoon had died over five years ago due to a rare medical condition — reasons that were out of the range of what NOKC cared for. Jisung possessed his medical records and Jihoon’s documents from his hospital visits were removed years ago because of an overload in the systems.

How the fuck was Yongmi aware of Jihoon’s existence?

“Now you’re interested, aren’t you? Don’t you want so badly to know what exactly happened to precious Han Jihoon, your only family?”

Jisung swallowed a lump in his throat. She had evidently done her research on him before deciding to approach him. She knew his number, his current whereabouts, his past. What other tricks did she have up her sleeve to try and get him to listen to her, he wondered. More than this, even, he pondered on what kind of information she would actually have on Jihoon.

“What do you want?” He questioned. His mind was frazzled, thrown off by the whiplash he was getting from being half asleep one minute to being paranoid the next. He couldn’t think straight with the knowledge that his every move was being observed.

“I can answer all your burning questions about your brother, Hannie. You just have to do one simple thing for me. That’s it.” She was making this sound easy. But the tales and horror stories told by Felix let Jisung know that Pi Yongmi never had good intentions and would go to great lengths to get her way. This wouldn’t be as simple as she was promising. “All you need to do is tell me where Yongbok is, and then you’ll know everything you ever wanted to know. You have the questions, and I have the answers.”

“What do you want with Yongbok?”

As much of a pain as Felix had been lately, Jisung could never be mad at him forever. He was the closest thing he had to a family, and despite everything his blood relatives had put him through in the past, Jisung knew that family stuck together. He could be angry at Felix and still help him with something. He could think Felix was the biggest idiot in the world, and he’d still stay by his side when he was doing stupid things.

Even though he still disagreed with the position Felix had put himself in with Chan and SKZ, Jisung wouldn’t let his judgement get between their brotherhood. Yongmi could offer whatever she pleased that regarded his dead brother, but Jisung understood that he needed to do what he could to protect his living family, too.

Yongmi was a threat. She was the common enemy that all of his friends and acquaintances in the outer-city were working against. Felix had recounted many times in which Yongmi had compromised his safety, and had explained that he was, frankly, terrified of what she was capable of. He would never hand his found-brother over to a predator.

“What goes on between Yongbok and I is nobody else’s business. What you should be focusing on is the information you desire. I know you want to know what happened to Jihoon,” Yongmi coerced, her words confident and disarming.

“I already have a decent idea about what happened to my brother,” Jisung declared quietly, accepting what he was about to do next. He may be missing out on the only chance at solving the puzzle that was Jihoon’s death, but he had priorities that were more important.

He slipped on the first pair of shoes he found — zip-up brown boots, mismatching his plaid pyjama pants and old t-shirt — and walked over to the phone still lying on his bed. He picked the device up, preparing himself to move quickly. “You don’t have anything I want, Pi Yongmi, and you definitely don’t have anything Yongbok wants. Good try, though, it was impressive — for a snake.”

He ended the call. The first thing he did after that was retrieve the glock he stored under his mattress, tucking it into his waistband and concealing it with a jumper. Then, his fingers fumbled to ring a different number, his feet moving toward the exit of the apartment. He needed to be fast. The person he was reaching out to picked up swiftly, much to his relief.

“Emergency,” he hurried out. “I need you to pick me up, I’m at my apartment. Meet me in the carpark. Bring a gun,” he cut to the chase, exiting his home for the last time. There was no chance he was coming back here, not after realising he was under the watchful eye of the CEO of Next Of Kin Co.

“I won’t be able to call back, so please hurry.” He picked up the pace a little, reaching the end of the hall on his floor.

His feet took him to the top of the stairwell leading the multiple storeys down to the ground floor. Minho had no opportunity to respond before he hung up the call. Jisung then flung his phone over the edge of the stair railings, watching it descend, and break into smithereens as it hit the concrete below. He sighed a breath of relief, revelling in it for a moment. These few seconds of peace would not last long, he knew, because now it was time to run.

He turned on his heel and went back over to the elevator, taking it down to the underground carpark, holding his breath the whole way down. He knew Minho would not be here for at least a few minutes and that meant he would have to hide. When he reached the parking lot, he slotted himself between a large car and the solid concrete wall behind it, out of sight from any noticeable CCTV, but in a spot where he could see if any cars were entering the lot.

It was incredibly risky to stay on the property, but it was his only option. If someone was keeping an eye on him from outside the apartments, then he couldn’t take the risk to flee the area. It was safer to hide until he could be safely escorted out, shielded by the cover of a car. Even though he had a gun to protect himself, it wouldn’t do well at a distance; he’d never had the chance to practice long-range shooting. If Yongmi’s people found him walking by on the street, they had a better shot at gunning him down than he had at getting them.

He crouched down to better hide himself behind the veil of the seven-seater. His body slid to the ground, lying flat against the cold, polished concrete and feeling his Glock pressing into his stomach. He peered underneath the car to get a better look at the entrance of the carpark, watching the shadows of people and transport pass by.

He remained lethally still for minutes, waiting, watching. In that time, his mind briefly wandered. He milled over what Yongmi had promised to tell him, all the answers to any questions he had regarding his blood brother. It was what he had been yearning to know for years, or so he thought. He was finally granted his wish, and yet he didn’t take it while it was there. He felt regretful, but the rational part of him told him he made the right decision.

Protect Felix. Protect him because he never got the opportunity to protect Jihoon.

To his relief, a car finally wheeled into the parking lot, stopping midway through the area, like the driver was looking for something — more specifically, someone. Jisung squinted at the number plate, instantly recognising the sequence of numbers and letters. It was Minho driving in, here to rescue Jisung like a knight in shining armour.

Jisung moved stealthily, getting back onto his feet to make his way over to the car. He strode towards Minho, to safety, making silent eye contact with the one man who could get him out of this mortifying situation. Minho caught sight of him and started turning the car around in preparation to leave as soon as possible, while Jisung got closer.

Jisung noticed a prominent shadow move in the corner of his eye at the lot’s entrance but was too slow to turn his head before—

BANG!

Jisung felt his legs buckle beneath him.

BANG!

A second shot echoed.

—

The lab was tranquil. The lighting was dimmed for his comfort. The overwhelming luminescence that some of the other lab workers usually preferred hurt his head, so Jeongin always adjusted the glow to his liking when he was the only one working in the basement. And because he was (almost) alone right now, it also meant complete silence. The perfect conditions for working. No headache-y lights and no disruptive chatter.

The ‘almost’ part of his aloneness was none other than Hwang Hyunjin, who had crept down here to watch him do his thing about half an hour ago. He had willingly zipped his lips shut when asked to and his presence brought Jeongin a sense of relaxation, so he didn’t mind that Hyunjin was here with him. In fact, he enjoyed the quiet company more than he would’ve thought.

What he had been working on the last week or so was identifying the different components that made up Vi Liquida. Minho and himself were put in charge of disassembling the chemicals to get a sense of what NOKC was trying to achieve with it. So far, they had found a dangerous balance of hormones and addictive substances all pumped into what was supposedly the recommended single dosage of Vil. These discoveries were worrisome because soon, it was rumoured, Vil would be on the market for all.

Jeongin scribbled down updated notes on what he found, hearing Hyunjin swinging back and forth on his stool in the background. He finished up his sentence, setting the pen on top of the paper he was writing on. Recently, they’d implemented some tables and proper seating in here, so he didn’t have to worry about his pen rolling to the floor.

He turned in his own stool, catching Hyunjin leaning back in his seat like a child would if he was testing the limits of gravity. He folded his arms, waiting. When Hyunjin noticed he was being watched, he straightened up again, acting like nothing had happened. Jeongin tutted, as if he were a parent disappointed in his kid’s silly behaviour.

“I told you—”

“If I break the chair, I have to buy a new one. I know, Innie, I know,” Hyunjin assured. He was sitting properly now — how he should have been sitting the whole time, but Jeongin wasn’t going to nitpick. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll be quiet. I promise.”

Jeongin huffed, pouting as he looked at his boyfriend.

“I’ll let it slide this time. But next time—”

The door to the laboratory slammed open abruptly, interrupting Jeongin midway through his sentence. A loud voice called out into the wide space.

“Jeongin, get a med kit!”

Hyunjin’s obvious confusion reflected his own because, of all people to be shouting, Minho was very unlikely to raise his voice. Jeongin got to his feet, rushing to where they kept an advanced version of a first-aid kit. They had their own added medicines and whatnots loaded into a big lunchbox, which was the perfect storage for holding what it needed to. Jeongin retrieved it from a shelf and brought it to the entrance of the basement, where he found Minho and another man, who he recognised to be Felix’s friend.

Minho was supporting Jisung (was that his name?) as they reached the bottom of the staircase, helping him over to a clear table. He instructed Jisung to lay on his back and try to stay still, which Jeongin found unreasonable because there was a lot of blood spilling from his arm. Jisung was likely in a massive amount of pain.

“What happened?” Jeongin asked, hurrying to stand beside the table and Minho. He opened up the medical kit, pulling out a pair of scissors to get Jisung’s shirt out of the way of the injury.

“...a shooting. He was— he was shot. I got the guy, but Jisung was hit,” Minho stammered; his usual nonchalance lost. His face was abnormally pale, drained of colour and life. Jeongin took one look at his trembling body and distraught facial expression and decided he was going to be tending to Jisung’s injury alone. Minho was in no state to help and Hyunjin was shockingly not one for medical-related things. Hyunjin was an oxymoron in this way: he could kill for a living but got squeamish when someone’s life needed saving.

Jisung was groaning in pain as Jeongin cut his jumper and t-shirt off, being as careful as he could not to hurt the man anymore. He peeled back the cloth, revealing a nasty, deep cut that had shred through Jisung’s upper arm. Jeongin’s eyes followed along the trajectory of the wound, finding it led to a small hole in the side of his chest. The bullet must’ve landed somewhere in his ribs — or worse, it had punctured a lung.

“Jisung, if you die, I’ll kill you,” Minho swore, pointing a shaky finger at Jisung. His other hand grasped at the fabric of Jisung’s pyjama pants, holding onto it like if he let go, he would be letting his companion leave the living realm. Jeongin wondered if this was the man Minho had described to be the one true love of his life on the rare occasion when he opened up a little. He looked fucking wrecked.

Jeongin moved quickly to pull on some surgical gloves, picking up his pace to start on locating the bullet. There was a lot of blood dripping everywhere and if it was any other circumstance, Jeongin would opt out of doing this. He hated seeing so much evidence of pain and hated being responsible for another person’s life. If he fucked up because he couldn’t stand the sight of so much blood, then it would be a life on his hands. Another one.

He beckoned Hyunjin over, no longer feeling like he could do this alone. He needed support.

“Hyune, you need to stitch his arm while I do this. Can you do that?”

Hyunjin, for once in the time Jeongin had known him, looked unsure. He nodded slowly, clearly reluctant to participate.

“I can help,” Minho offered, desperate to do something to busy himself.

“Just keep Jisung calm. He’s gotta be still,” Jeongin said. Minho nodded and so did Jisung, showing he, too, was listening. “Okay, put some gloves on,” Jeongin told Hyunjin softly, although he was panicking on the inside. “I’ll talk you through it.”

Jeongin used a couple fingers to carefully press on the skin around the entry point, feeling for the bullet. This was what the books had told him to do. All these years of reading medical journals and booklets had set him up with this knowledge. They had failed to mention that the patient would be squirming and whimpering in pain, which was quite confronting when Jeongin realised this.

He retracted his hands and decided it would be safe enough to remove the bullet. But that did not mean it would be easy. He picked up a large pair of tweezers from inside the kit, and took out the tools that Hyunjin would need, too. He used the small bottle of alcohol from the kit to sterilise the needed equipment before handing nylon string and a hook-ended needle to Hyunjin.

“Can you sew?” He asked, trying to ignore Minho’s rambling and Jisung’s painful sounds.

“Yes, I can sew,” Hyunjin confirmed, slotting himself in beside Jeongin. “Is that what you need me to do, darling?”

“Yeah, disinfect the cut first. Use the alcohol,” he explained. He had just finished using said bottle to clean the tweezers, handing it over to his boyfriend. “Jisung, you’ll need to hold very still now.”

“I know, I’m trying,” Jisung wheezed.

Jeongin grimaced at his weak words, pushing forward to get this finished as quickly as he physically could. He noticed Hyunjin was starting to stitch together the gash on Jisung’s bicep, methodical as he first pierced the needle through the surrounding skin. Jeongin wanted to keep an eye on him but knew there were more dire things he needed to tend to.

Using the tweezers, he reached into bullet hole with as much caution as he could muster. The ends of the instrument clamped firmly around the bullet and he slowly, steadily removed it from the swollen flesh.

“You’re fine, Jisung, you’re fine,” Minho reassured, but the crack in his voice said otherwise. “It’s— it’s just a small injury. You’re fine.”

“Min, you’re not helping,” Jisung sighed. His body was tense as he tried not to writhe. “Can you— ow, fuck. Can you get Felix? Is he here?”

Minho left to retrieve Felix, fulfilling the wounded man’s wishes.

Jeongin set the bloody bullet onto a wipe, breathing a sigh of relief, knowing the hardest part was over. He moved quickly to apply pressure on the still bleeding opening. He’d need to wait for Hyunjin to finish with the needle and thread before he’d be able to fix this injury up.

“How am I looking, doc?” Jisung inquired, sounding exhausted.

“Better. It’s not life-threatening,” Jeongin told. The brutal sight of Jisung hurt and barely keeping it together was intimidating; it made Jeongin feel out of his body. An ache was growing in his head from the sudden onslaught of stress, feeling as if he’d just been whacked in the head with a baseball bat.

“It’s good to see you again,” Jisung commented, grasping onto his shredded clothes for dear life. “Despite the circumstances, it’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while.”

Jisung’s eyes flickered to Hyunjin, and his mouth opened with the intention of saying something to the man, but it shut when he thought twice. There was an unnameable tension between Jisung and Hyunjin, one that neither of them was willing to address. It made Jeongin sweat, afraid that he had missed something at some point in their interactions. He had to suppress his fears when Hyunjin let him know he was finished stitching the gash up.

“Okay,” he said, shuddering a little. “Just wrap some bandaging around his arm.”

Hyunjin did as he was instructed to while Jeongin worked on stitching together the bullet wound. As he was tasking himself with the minor procedure, he heard the footsteps of Minho returning with Felix. He might’ve also heard Chan’s voice muttering something but couldn’t glance away from his current job. He couldn’t risk fucking this up now.

“Can you explain again what led to this?” It was certainly Chan speaking, his cool, collected manner seeping into the room as he descended down the staircase.

“Jisung told me it was an emergency and when I got there, there must’ve been someone waiting...”

“Hey, Ji,” Felix greeted worriedly, coming up to the table on the opposite side to where Jeongin and Hyunjin were finishing up. Jisung ignored his welcome, looking up at Jeongin again.

“Are you almost finished? Don’t rush if you aren’t, I just need to talk to Felix,” he requested politely.

“Yeah, I’m nearly done.”

Hyunjin was finished now, standing off to the side patiently, Chan and Minho were discussing details of what had occurred before Jisung was brought to the Levanter Hostel, and Felix was trying to talk to Jisung but was being blatantly ignored. Jeongin sensed something very off in the air. There was too much going on at once, which was a stark contrast from the tranquillity he’d been enjoying not fifteen minutes ago.

He was glad to leave once Jisung was patched together, tidying the medical kit and zipping it up again. He knew Hyunjin was following closely behind him as he went back up the stairs. He reached the lobby, headed straight for the entrance doors when Hyunjin caught his hand.

“Where are you going?”

“Out. I need to be alone,” Jeongin stated shortly.

“Jisung was just shot; do you think I’m going to let you outside after that? It’s not safe for you, Innie, I can’t have you getting hurt, too,” Hyunjin fretted.

“I’m going to the convenience store, and I’ll be right back.” Jeongin reached up and gave his lover a comforting kiss. This didn’t seem to ease the man’s concern at all. “Please; I need to clear my head.”

“All right,” Hyunjin huffed, giving in easily. “But I’m waiting right here until you’re back. If you take too long, I will be looking for you.”

—

Felix internally begged Chan and Minho not to leave the laboratory. They were the wall that stood between himself and the confrontation that Jisung was certainly getting ready to hit him with. But the pair left when Jisung asked them to, emphasising the importance of him talking with Felix about something (presumably related to his gunshot wound).

“Felix, help me get up,” Jisung said, groaning as he tried to sit up on the edge of the table. Felix lent his best friend a hand, assisting him when he shuffled off the tabletop and landed on his feet on the floor. Once he had steadied himself, Jisung swung his good arm and landed a harsh slap to Felix’s face.

“What the fuck—” Felix held his face, shocked by the attack made on him. The surprise only lasted a second because, after letting it sit for a moment, he realised it was completely called for. He had been a terrible person to Jisung. He was terrible to the point his friend nearly shook the hand of Death.

“You owe me,” Jisung hissed, breathing heavily. He sat down on a stool that was nearby, beginning to take off the remains of his cut clothing. He was left shirtless, blood and sweat accumulated on his skin.

“How was I supposed to know they’d go after you?” Felix threw out, trying to keep his tone quiet. He couldn’t afford being overheard. He remained standing, feeling restless and stressed over the situation. He started paying back and forth to ease some of the tension in his body. “It was Yongmi, wasn’t it? She was the one who did this? Ji, I’m so fucking sorry, but I really didn’t know she’d target you, too.”

“She shot me!” Jisung shouted, pointing at his bandages and, in turn, the injuries underneath them. “I don’t want to hear sorry again, Lix. You need to do something before we all end up dead. You need to tell Chan.”

All Felix could see in his mind was a naked, squirming Im Sangjun tied to a wooden block with vibrant gore spilling down his front. He felt his stomach tighten uncomfortably when his brain replaced the solicitor with himself on that wooden block, brutalised and terrified. The probability that it would be him two floors beneath the ground in that murderous room was too high but were only that high if Chan knew. He had to prevent that from happening for as long as he could.

“I can’t.”

“I almost died. If you don’t do something, then I’ll have to tell him myself.” Jisung rubbed a hand over his face, evidently distressed. Obviously, he was distressed — he came face-to-face with his own demise today. “Yongmi knows about my brother,” he sighed. “She got my number and tried making a trade. She wanted your location in exchange for telling me what happened to Jihoon.”

She knows who Han Jihoon is? Felix pondered curiously, taking a second to comprehend the strangeness of this claim. Of course, Yongmi would track down information to extort Jisung into giving her what she wanted, but, as far as Felix remembered, Jihoon had been wiped from the history books years ago. It was a mystery as to how Yongmi could’ve obtained that kind of information.

Unless, of course, Jihoon had been involved with NOKC in some capacity.

“How does she know about Jihoon?” Felix questioned.

“I don’t know.” Jisung was solemn; a lost look consuming him. It was easy to tell that the wounds he’d collected were not nearly as painful as giving up the chance of knowing what came of Jihoon. Felix knew how much of a significant figure Jisung’s older brother had played in his childhood. Jihoon was his role model, his guardian and his saviour. Felix understood what it was like to lean on an older sibling for wisdom and guidance.

“Do you think maybe...” he put out there, “...does that mean he was involved with NOKC? Do you think?” He was careful with this approach, not wanting to offend Jisung by insinuating his family was connected to the one thing that was destroying their worlds.

“I don’t want to think about it,” Jisung admitted. He leaned backwards, resting against the back of the stool. He released a shaky sigh. “I gave up my opportunity to know the truth. I was trying to protect you, and I missed my chance for closure.”

“I’m sorry you had to make that decision. Still, you can’t tell Chan anything,” Felix reiterated. “If they’re willing to shoot someone I know, then they’re probably willing to do more than that to get to me. I can’t leave the hotel — neither of us can leave.”

“You’re making excuses to save your own ass again,” Jisung scowled.

“Please, Ji,” Felix pleaded, desperation on his voice. He could not afford to be outed this deep into his involvement with SKZ — his involvement with Chan, too. If Jisung told anyone it would be like him handing Felix a noose. “If you tell Chan then... I’ll tell him you knew the whole time, too. You set me up to meet SKZ in the first place and never thought to mention my job history to anyone. Chan won’t appreciate that.”

“You’re going to take me down with you? Really?” Jisung scoffed, in disbelief. He got to his feet, coming up to his friend with a threatening swagger. It was only when he stood over Felix that the other realised he was a rather intimidating person when he was angry, and his muscles were out for show. Fortunately, Felix wouldn’t cower this time. He and Jisung were equals, therefore he held the same power as his friend in this disagreement.

“Yes. Really.”

“I’m not the one sleeping with the fucking head of the gang and hiding this secret!” Jisung’s voice rose.

“Keep it down—”

“I’m at my wit’s end with you, Felix!”

“If you open your mouth, I’m opening mine,” Felix bit out, irked, pointing between them. “Then we’ll both be on the streets, yeah? We’ll be even.”

“Fuck you. Honestly, fuck you. You owe me an arm and a leg and you’re standing here threatening me?” Jisung looked infuriated. “Who are you? What happened to my friend?”

This stirred something deep inside Felix, something he recognised as soul-crushing guilt. He needed to find a way to dampen this matter, specifically so Jisung would stop shouting.

“Just... give me a day or two.”

“To do what exactly?”

“To think. To figure things out. I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.

Jisung looked to consider something for a moment, causing a pause in the conversation.

“Fine. But seriously, if you don’t figure things out soon, I will take matters into my own hands, even if it means we both end up in the slums again. Or shot.”

“I promise, Ji. I’ll sort everything out.”

Now, how the fuck was he going to do that?

—

Jeongin was here for a bag of his favourite lollipops and that was it. Maybe he'd get a pack of bubblegum for Felix, too, if his favourite one was in stock. Or this was the initial plan he had when he left the Levanter Hostel, until he actually got to the front of the nearest convenience store and halted dead in his tracks. His head was tilted in a manner of interest, as he stared at the poster stuck to the front door of the shop.

Ten million won was a hefty reward for a singular person. Felix hadn’t mentioned he had a warrant out for his arrest, so he assumed the man didn’t know about this yet. It was quite curious when he inspected the inky sheet closer, noticing the small letters printed at the bottom of the page:

[Dispatched by Next Of Kin Co.]

To the extent of his knowledge, NOKC did not generally distribute posters for wanted criminals — especially ones without a big name in the news. So, it was odd to see something like this — a wanted poster — claiming to have been sent out by the company. Jeongin didn't know what to make of it. The streets were savage lands these days, it seemed. People were being followed and shot at, others were being hunted by the police force; all people he knew personally, as well, which was a chilling thought.

He hated the violence and danger of everyday life and hated it even more now that it was closing in on the people around him. Jeongin was grateful to have someone like Hyunjin around to keep him safe. Hyunjin was his protector, or a guard dog as he would joke. Someone who could sniff out danger from a great distance away and know when to hold Jeongin close in his arm for safety. Hyunjin knew when to bite and knew when to hide. He was a bloodied angel sent to safeguard Jeongin from evil entities, and Jeongin loved him for it.

He hummed to himself and lifted his hand to peel the wanted poster off the door, folding the paper up into a small rectangle. He tucked it into his pocket for later.

He took a mental note to inform Felix of this when he got back to the hotel.

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice called out. It made him startle, his hand still shoved into his pocket, holding onto the poster. His head whipped around to find a well-dressed man approaching him, his fashion choice standing out in comparison to the shaggy wear most civilians had on. The setting sun beamed down on them, but it was not warm in the slightest, so it was a wonder why this stranger was suited the way he was. His slicked back hair shone under the sunlight.

“Do you know him?” The man asked, pointing at Jeongin’s pocket. “The gentleman on the wanted poster, do you know him?”

“No, I don’t know him,” Jeongin lied, removing the hand from his pocket but keeping the paper in there. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. He took a small step back when the man got a little too close for comfort.

“You don’t know Lee Yongbok,” the man clarified, carefully surveying Jeongin. He looked him over once, like he was trying to decipher something, then clicked his tongue. “Then why are you taking the poster?”

Jeongin’s brow furrowed, taken aback by what the stranger was saying. It was discombobulating to him where this man had come from, and why he was looking for someone who knew Felix. The more bewildering thing was the fact that a complete stranger had just called Felix by a different name. This was hard not to comment on, but he held his tongue, snarking, “I don’t want to forget a dangerous criminal’s face. Is that fine with you?”

The stranger smiled, but it didn’t reach his prying eyes. His gaze unashamedly ran over Jeongin from head-to-toe again, holding on his stern and unimpressed face for a moment too long. Jeongin felt ready to bite. It was annoying how casual this man was being about his searching gaze, relaxed. But there was something he was looking for on Jeongin, digging for deceit or hesitation. There was no elaboration from the man, just another emotionless grin.

“No, it’s fine,” he brushed off. “You aren’t who I’m after anyway.” He started on the path heading down the street, in the direction of the hostel.

Jeongin’s stomach churned, a gut feeling arising when it finally settled in that the man was hunting down Felix. There would be no other reason for him to ask about the wanted poster. Why, he wondered, why was finding Felix so foremost when he was only a common street thief (as far as he knew)?

A thought followed this, one that reminded him of the bullet wound he'd only recently finished patching up. The apparent randomness of the attack on Jisung that he overheard from Minho, he remembered this, too. And then another thought; Jisung had specifically requested to speak with Felix — alone. Jisung wanted to discuss something with his friend directly.

Strange men in suits were after Felix. Was this a coincidence?

If it was... then why did the stranger call Felix by another name? There couldn’t be many individuals in the country, let alone within this city, who resembled Felix. In addition to this, Jeongin had previously seen Felix in the exact clothes he had on in the picture; he was certain he’d seen that jumper before. It further begged the question: was this a coincidence?

Chapter Text

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE BLUR BETWEEN INTIMACY AND DEPRAVITY

I want your quiet, your screaming and thrashing

Jeongin’s shoes were damp on the foyer carpet, leaving muddy footprints behind as he hurried inside the Hostel. It had begun to drizzle from the sky on his way back and his shoulders were damp, cold as he stepped into the contrasting warmness of inside. As promised, Hyunjin was standing in the same spot in the lobby, with a cigarette hanging from his lips. The ash haphazardly flaked onto the floor, but neither of them seemed bothered by the hot smudges staining the pristine blue. Hyunjin immediately turned his focus to Jeongin.

Jeongin was going to jump straight into his ramble, but noticed Hyori in the corner of his eye, lazing back in her seat, but still present. He changed his mind in that moment, deciding he needed to take this newfound information elsewhere.

“Come with me,” he whispered to Hyunjin, grabbing his hand and starting to drag him towards the elevator. Hyunjin followed, of course. They made their way up to Hyunjin’s bedroom, where they’d been spending most of their spare time over the last few months. The pseudo-apartment had become a humble little home for them. Jeongin didn’t make it five steps into the room before he was yanking the wanted poster out of his jacket pocket. He unfolded the paper and presented its contents to Hyunjin, who was only just closing the door. Hyunjin moved closer to inspect the poster, reading over it before shrugging.

“Felix is wanted: so, what? Haven’t we all been wanted at some point?” He brushed off.

“But Hyunjin,” Jeongin said with an emphatic shake of his head, “that’s not all. This was issued by NOKC — directly issued by them.”

“That is... weird. It’s probably because Felix was caught following one of their workers or something.” Hyunjin eyed Jeongin curiously, noting something off about his mannerisms. He wondered if the stress of work had finally led him to craziness. He wrapped his arms around Jeongin and held him tight. “What has you so worked up, Innie? Is there something else?”

Jeongin sank into the embrace, naturally, despite the dampness of his clothes.

“A stranger came up to me at the store,” he revealed. “He was asking about Felix. He was looking for him, but... he called Felix by a different name. It confused me at first, but then I started wondering about how random it was for Jisung to show up here with a bullet in him, and how he wanted to speak with Felix alone and all. I’m probably overthinking it... I trust Felix, but I was connecting the dots, and it makes me feel sick.”

“A different name? What name?” Hyunjin inquired.

“Lee Yongbok.”

“Lee Yongbok...” He pondered on this momentarily, slowly rocking their bodies side-to-side. “Why don’t we have a look for that name? For peace of mind.”

He gently pulled them both over to the bed, getting Jeongin’s laptop from the bedside table. They sat touching, cross-legged, cosying up to each other. The cigarette was still smoking from Hyunjin’s lips, and he took a drag as he motioned for Jeongin to log into the device. The wanted poster was set aside on the mattress while Jeongin typed in his password, a nervous twitch in his fingers. He opened his browser, typing in the name that had engrained itself into his mind. Lee Yongbok.

Sure enough, hundreds of results popped up on the screen. His eyes skimmed over the first couple of website titles, and he instantly paused on one of them. It was a website ending in NOKC’s information domain. He clicked on the link and could feel Hyunjin shift beside him, leaning forward to rest an elbow on his knee. When the screen loaded, his breath caught in his throat.

A photograph was placed at the very top of the digital page, one with about fifty people, all dressed in twinning purple blouses and black slacks, dated to have been taken four years ago. Nobody stood out at first, mostly because Pi Yongmi, the CEO, hadn’t shown her face outside of the NOKC headquarters ever. But then Jeongin’s sights set on a particular face. Amongst the deadpan expressions of the Next Of Kin Co. employees was Felix, perhaps a little younger and paler, but it was him, front and centre of the photograph.

“He lied...” Jeongin whispered in disbelief, staring at the emotionless face of the man he once thought of as his good friend. “Hyune, he lied to us.” His voice broke.

“Yes. He did.” Hyunjin sounded neutral.

“I can’t believe... What do we do?” He asked, turning a concerned gaze to his lover, searching for an answer.

Hyunjin took a deep, calming breath. “We don’t do anything.”

“What?” Jeongin questioned immediately, puzzlement rushing over him. “We have to do something. What if Jisung’s in on some thought-out plan with Felix?”

“No, Jisung wouldn’t side with someone from NOKC. He would never,” Hyunjin said with surety. Jeongin stared blankly at him for a minute, stunned by his nonchalant, easy-breezy response to this shocking revelation.

“But we need to at least tell Chan—”

“No, no, that is the last thing we should do,” Hyunjin shut down, closing the laptop screen. He laid back on the pillows propped against the headboard, taking another drag of his shortened cigarette. “Think rationally, Innie,” he said, smoke flowing from his lips as he spoke. “I mean, really think. Felix has helped SKZ with so many things we couldn’t have done without him. We’re not going to turn on him so quickly.”

Jeongin looked at Hyunjin like he had never seen him before. He was expecting his boyfriend to be just as bewildered, just as mortified and infuriated as he was. But Hyunjin was calm. He was a generally composed person, but not when it came to massive discoveries like this one. Jeongin shifted on the bed to face the other man, tilting his head on a slight incline, displaying his confusion.

“Why aren’t you angry?” Jeongin interrogated.

“Should I be angry?”

“Felix isn’t the person we thought he was. He works for the same people that bred me from a fucking lab, and he lied about ever being a part of that,” he explained, growing irritated. He asked again, “Why aren’t you angry?”

Hyunjin stubbed out the cigarette on the ashtray sitting beside the bed. He sighed.

“I knew.”

“You knew what?”

“I knew Felix wasn’t who he said he was. I’ve known for a few weeks,” Hyunjin confessed. He rested a hand over Jeongin’s knee, brushing his thumb over it to quash the growing fire inside him. “Remember when Felix took you to that hole-in-the-wall restaurant? I didn’t like the idea of you going to a place like that with practically a complete stranger. I like Felix, but I’ve never trusted him. I did some investigating, and it turns out the owner of that little restaurant saw Yongbok walk in with you. No Felix. Felix doesn’t exist outside the Hostel.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Jeongin pressed, getting up from the mattress. He couldn’t bear being near Hyunjin right now. He felt betrayed, not only by Felix, but by his own boyfriend.

“I didn’t want to,” Hyunjin shrugged easily. He dug out another smoke from the pack tucked in his jumper pocket. He watched Jeongin shake with an unbridled rage as he lit his fresh cigarette. “I knew you’d be hurt if you found out, so I didn’t want to tell you. I was protecting you, just as I promised.”

“You didn’t even tell Chan! You’re letting the enemy walk freely in our territory, Hyunjin!” Jeongin shouted now, not believing what was being told to him — not wanting to believe it.

“Innie,” Hyunjin hushed, “Felix isn’t an enemy. The restaurant owner told me he left NOKC years ago, after his sister died. He never lied about that.” He straightened up on the bed again, his once collected facial expression hardening. “We shouldn’t tell Chan.”

“We should tell Chan,” Jeongin countered.

“No, we shouldn’t. He’ll kill Felix without hesitation,” Hyunjin disagreed.

“You kill people! Why do you care?!”

“I kill bad people; Felix isn’t a bad person,” he elucidated as if his words were already obvious. In his eyes, they were. He thought Jeongin would be more willing to concur with him, but, like always, Jeongin’s emotions were blowing up.

“Fuck you,” Jeongin seethed, fists balled by his side. “NOKC put me through Hell. I was never a person to them, I was always test subject number 43: the one who was constantly screaming and crying because nobody would fucking help me! And you want me to forgive someone who supports using children as science projects? You want me to let Felix live in peace because— because why?! This is crazy! I hate you right now!”

“Okay. You going to stab me again or just stand there?” Hyunjin instigated, getting annoyed now. Jeongin was shocked that he had completely missed the point of his spiel.

Jeongin didn’t say anything now. He didn’t react to the painful jab, instead turning and walking out of the hotel room into the corridor. He heard Hyunjin shout after him, asking where he was going, but he still didn’t reply. He didn’t let a single word slip from his mouth as he headed towards the elevator. He was going to tell Chan and that was final.

Hyunjin was not far behind him, grabbing him and, quite suddenly, throwing him over his shoulder. Jeongin pounded a fist down on Hyunjin’s back, fighting against his hold to break free. Unfortunately, they were already heading back towards the room and there was no way Jeongin would weasel his way out of Hyunjin’s strong hold. He screamed at him to let him go, not caring if the neighbours heard, but Hyunjin would not budge.

They re-entered the bedroom and Hyunjin shut the door behind him. “I’m not letting you go because I know what you’re going to do. Just sit down—” Hyunjin dropped Jeongin onto the soft bundle of blankets once more “—and listen. Just listen for one second.”

Jeongin glared at him. He held his tongue and listened, although he was very fucking reluctant. The other man took his silence as a sign to keep going on with his point.

“Felix has not worked for Next Of Kin Co. for at least four years,” Hyunjin stated matter-of-factly. He leaned forward, coming down to Jeongin’s eye level as if he was speaking to a child. “What he’s told us about his sister is true. They probably both worked at NOKC before the company ordered a hit out on her, and then Felix, being the scaredy cat he is, ran away from the job. Now that he’s toughened up, he wants revenge. He’s useful to SKZ and he’s on our side. Do you understand, Innie?”

“If that’s true, then explain it to Chan,” Jeongin spat.

“Chan?” Hyunjin laughed, straightening up again. The abrupt mirth was disarming, causing Jeongin to lean back a little, distancing himself from his lover. Hyunjin continued, “Chan changes his mind less than Seungmin does. He wouldn’t hear anyone out in a situation like that.”

“What the fuck do we do, then? Pretend like everything’s normal; pretend to be Felix’s friend when he’s told these lies?” Jeongin proposed, pointing out the ridiculousness of what Hyunjin was suggesting they do. There was no way he would be able to ignore the new knowledge regarding Felix — or Yongbok. He wouldn’t be capable of returning to normal.

“We don’t do anything,” Hyunjin repeated for the hundredth time. “We stay out of it because this is not bloodshed that we have any business in. If we figured it out, then Chan inevitably will, too. When that happens, he can deal with it himself. Until then, we stay out of it.”

“I can’t look at Felix,” Jeongin told, frowning. “I can’t see him the same anymore.”

“I’ll tell Hyori not to let him inside the lab and I’ll tell him to leave you alone.” Hyunjin shuffled closer and wrapped his arms around Jeongin’s neck. He pecked the top of his head, a silent promise to follow through with what he was saying. Jeongin was calmer now, reciprocating the gentleness of the action by hugging Hyunjin.

“Fine... Thank you, Hyune,” he muttered, resting his head against his lover’s stomach, feeling his cloth-muffled body heat on his cheek. He felt Hyunjin card his slender fingers through his damp hair, brushing out the soft strands. “I’m sorry I told you I hated you. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know, Innie. I know,” Hyunjin assured.

They stayed like that for a long moment, in each other’s embrace. They were each other’s safety, their own personal dangers, and the comfort they sought in hard times. For both of them, being in one another’s arms felt like the home they never got to have. They soaked in the moment while they had the chance.

—

Felix had it figured out. This might’ve been the dumbest decision he’d ever made in his life — and that was saying something considering all the stupid shit he’d gotten himself into — but he knew it had to be done anyway. This was how he could make it up to Jisung. This was how he could earn his friend’s trust back and pay for the dumb decisions he’d made in the recent past.

He sat with Jisung in the study of his previous room, the one he was living in before he moved upstairs with Chan. Jisung was now settled in here using it as his own new home, seeing as he couldn’t return to his apartment and Felix didn’t need it any longer. The place was somehow emptier than when Felix had first moved in, having less possessions to fill it up. After all, Jisung came to the Levanter Hostel with himself and his gun, and nothing else. So, it was not a homely place anymore. Somehow, despite the seasons warming up by the day, it felt colder in here.

Felix had his notebook splayed open on the desk where he and Jisung were seated in front of. In one hand he had his cell phone, in the other was nothing, but it curled into a nervous fist and sat in his lap. He read over the phone number scribbled on the notebook page he’d flipped to, reciting a few numbers in his head before typing them into his phone. The contact number was written out beneath the bone-chilling name which haunted him every day: Pi Yongmi. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

He punched in the final digit, pausing, staring at the screen. This was going to be difficult, but he couldn’t look away now. He wasn’t allowed to bow his head and let the danger have power over him; he was going to be better than that.

“She can’t trace the call,” Jisung reminded after a few seconds had passed. Whether it was a reassurance for Felix or for himself, it still helped ease Felix’s tenseness. “There aren’t any cameras in or around the Hostel, either. Chan told me it’s nearly impossible to find this place through CCTV.”

“I know,” Felix sighed, still unsure.

He knew this building was one of the safest to be inside of in the city area if you wanted to hide from NOKC, but that was not the dilemma he was facing. It’ll be the first time I hear Yongmi’s voice in years, he realised. He was not prepared for that and there was a massive possibility that he would never be prepared for it. But it was now or never if he wished to get more information about Han Jihoon. He needed to stir the pot while it was still bubbling, or else Yongmi might grow bored. If she had her sights currently set on Jisung, then she would still want to indulge in the topic.

“No talking,” Felix told warily, “I’ll do all the talking.” Jisung gave a firm nod, subconsciously pursing his lips. The confirmation was Felix’s signal to press the call button. There was a long moment of ice-cold silence, freezing them both in their chairs as they held their breath, waiting, quiet.

And then, the ringing stopped. Felix tapped the speaker phone button.

There was a deafening pause, then,

“Don’t be shy, Yongbok. I’ve been waiting to hear from you.”

It was like Yongmi was in the room with them, with her voice so personally speaking to him, shooting through the fragile barricade he had put up to try and protect himself from feeling fear. His confidence shattered when he heard his government name, spoken by the woman who had ruined his life in so many ways. He glanced over to Jisung, searching for some kind of support, but Jisung just looked very unnaturally angry. He glowered at the phone, looking like he wanted to set fire to the device.

Felix deduced that Jisung would be of little help to him. He ran his empty hand through his hair, hoping some of the stress he felt could be brushed away with the futile strokes. As expected, he was no less pressured now as he was a second ago. He forced out some courage from deep within him, stringing it into the only words he could muster to break the silence.

“I want some information from you.”

“Aw, I don’t even get a simple ‘hello’? Don’t play serious with me; it’s been so long, we have lots to catch up on, Yongbokie. Let’s have a casual talk first,” Yongmi led on, steering the conversation in a direction Felix wanted to avoid. He despised the mocking tone she was putting on, because she knew she was making him uncomfortably squirm in his seat. She always knew what she was doing.

“You don’t get casual talks when you shoot my friends,” he asserted.

“Ah, I see Hannie found his way to you, then. How is the poor thing holding up? Is he alive?”

Jisung was red with fury, his eyes unwavering, completely set on the phone. He kept his mouth shut, though, which Felix could tell was a hard task for him. Jisung was good at talking. He could talk to any ordinary person shopping at the market; he could chat up a discussion with a anybody from a babbling toddler to a rambling loan shark. The unfortunate side to this talent was moments like this, when he had to be quiet and keep from running his mouth. Because the difference between a toddler or a loan shark and Pi Yongmi was that if he said the wrong thing here, he was in immediate danger.

“I didn’t call to talk about Jisung,” Felix redirected. “I want to know about Han Jihoon.”

“Ah, so is that what you think is going to happen? You want me to tell you everything so you can relay it to your little friend.” Yongmi sounded close to laughing, obviously believing the situation had an element of humour to it. “Unless Hannie is there with you. That would be just adorable. Is he there?”

Felix closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to give into the bait Yongmi was laying out for him and Jisung. “Jihoon. I want to know about Jihoon.”

“Not for nothing, pet. There’s always a price.”

“What price?”

“I want you. If you want to help your little friend so badly, then I want you in exchange.”

Jisung shook his head, now looking Felix dead in the eye. Jisung would not have his best friend handing himself over to Yongmi when he got literally shot while trying to protect him. Those battle wounds wouldn’t be received in vain. A gunshot to the chest would mean nothing if Felix gave himself up.

“I can’t do that. There has to be something else you want from me that I can trade.”

“There is one thing, actually. Tell me you’re scared of me.”

Felix was thrown off guard by the demand and said, confused, “I’m scared of you?”

“Make me believe it.”

It wasn’t as if he was not scared of her, because he was — as any sane person would be after all she had done to him and others. He was truly terrified, but it seemed like a random request to ask of him. It didn’t take much for him to make the statement believable, because all he needed to do was recall any interaction he’d ever had with Yongmi to feel fear.

He remembered, most vividly, the time she’d ordered him to be held down and injected with Vil. It was a memory he’d refreshed recently with all the talk about Vi Liquida, but it was swiftly pushed away when he thought about Ana. A box had shown up at his doorstep one day with a note on the front, which spelled out exactly what was inside the box and exactly who it belonged to. Ana’s heart had been inside the box, cold, oozing with fresh blood. He remembered the note word-for-word:

Only one heart can ever belong to you: only mine. Your sister was a temporary hindrance, but now that she is out of the way, we can wed one day.
~ P.Y.

The memory was sickening; it was precisely what Yongmi wanted him to think about.

“I’m... I’m scared of you.” His voice was feeble. He turned his eyes down to stare at the lined markings in the wooden table, lingering on a particular dent that stood out as he tried to distract himself from the gross feeling churning inside him.

“Say it again. Why are you scared of me?”

“I really— I’m afraid of you and what you’re doing to me. You’re hunting me and my friends like we’re loose cattle. It scares me to know what you’re capable of and what lengths you’ll go to, to have what you want,” he admitted quietly, losing his prior confidence. In a smaller voice, he repeated, “I’m scared of you.”

“I could listen to you talk about this for hours, Yongbokie,” Yongmi praised. The compliment was worded in a manner that weirded Felix out, shaking him out of his internal monologue.

“I gave you what you wanted. Now, I want to know about Jihoon.”

“Okay, pet, you can have what you asked for. Is Hannie listening? Make sure he’s listening; you wouldn’t want him to miss out, would you.”

Jisung was visibly restraining himself from cursing at her.

“I told you it’s just me talking—”

“Han Jihoon was a lab rat,” Yongmi interjected, speaking over Felix and sounding delighted more than anything. Felix felt his fingers tighten around his phone. “He had a test formula of Vi Liquida put into him, and he didn’t take it well. I can’t be blamed for it, either, because he signed up to be tested on. Had he survived, he would’ve received a hefty sum of money. It was an exchange.”

Jisung’s anger fizzled into heartbreak. Felix could see it in the way the tense muscles in his friend’s face relaxed, Jisung’s facial expression falling into a devastating look. He slowly began shaking his head, not wanting to believe the story he was being told.

“You knew Vil was dangerous,” Felix declared, though his tone was softer, not reaching the accusatory harshness he was hoping for. “You knew. You still hurt people.”

“Han Jihoon is not special. What happened to him happened to enough people that I lost sympathy. They paid; I delivered. Sometimes people need to get hurt for a good thing to happen; and Vi Liquida was the second-best thing to ever come out of my work,” Yongmi said, still evidently jovial. “You were the first best thing, Yongbok. And when I find you, you’ll understand that you belong with me.”

“I don’t belong with you, and I never will—”

It was Jisung who cut him off this time, stretching out a hand to hang up the call. He appeared broken, the news about his brother shattering a part of him that still held onto hope that Jihoon had died peacefully. Felix sighed, frustrated by the turn the conversation had taken, ticked off and shaken by Yongmi’s unhindered happiness at his and Jisung’s own despair.

“She’s crazy,” Jisung remarked.

Felix had nothing to say to that, nodding his head in agreement. He gazed at the dark, rectangular screen on his cell phone, wondering if Yongmi could see his fear through the glass. He caught sight of his eye’s reflection staring back at him and snapped the device shut, unable to look himself in the eye and see the worry creeping out of him. His chair squeaked when he stood up and walked up to the window inside the study, lifting up the sliding pane. Before Jisung could question why he was looking out onto the street three floors below, Felix was dropping his phone out of the open window.

A gone phone did not mean Yongmi wouldn’t try to track him or contact him again, it just meant that for now, he would have some distance. He needed a plan to get out of this mess because he knew that, sooner or later, his past would sneak up on him, and he would no longer have anywhere to run.

Don’t look away now, called a voice in the back of his mind. Face the worst and bloodiest of it. Don’t bow your head, or else Yongmi will eat you alive.

—

A hand slammed a sheet of paper down on the desk, interrupting Chan’s long stretch of focus on his work. He had heard the door open, but had not looked up yet, deciding whether to reprimand the intruder for their rude entry, or to simply ignore them. He finished writing out the sentence he was up to before straightening up to meet eyes with whoever had just barged into his office. It was Seungmin here, demanding his immediate attention. Of course, it was Seungmin; who else would be so disruptive?

Chan sighed, turning his gaze to look at whatever it was that’d been smacked onto his desk. He peered over and found Felix’s cropped portrait printed onto sheet, with a large WANTED ALIVE plastered over the top of the page. Chan recognised the clothes in the photograph, knowing it was taken the day Felix had been arrested. It was because of this that Chan knew Seungmin was about to overreact. Whatever was going to come out of his mouth was going to be ridiculous and exaggerated.

“Felix is wanted. You’re not concerned about that?” Seungmin questioned.

Now, Chan would not disagree that Seungmin could be childish, but there were also many admirable aspects to him. Most of the time, he had the right intentions behind what he did. He considered Chan and the rest of SKZ as equally as he considered himself; he was a deep thinker, too — clever, thoughtful. The unfortunate side to Kim Seungmin, though, lied in what lingered of his past. He was someone with an unresolved past, like majority of people were. The effects of his childhood were a stain in his mind, moulding his actions.

He had a hard time trusting other people and had built a complex about how much people trusted him. Not a cocky complex that made him think everybody should believe him, but a desperate complex that made him think he had to be forceful about what he thought to be true, or else nobody would believe him. It was because of this complex that he was so suspicious. It was also because of this that he needed Chan to believe him — trust that his concern was not coming from nowhere.

Chan rested back in his chair after getting a good look at the photograph, folding his arms over his chest. Seungmin’s gaze was strong, questioning, worry evident.

“Seungmin, could this have waited until a different time?” Chan asked, refraining from telling the other man to leave and not to bother him again. He was busy.

“Felix is wanted; I don’t think we should leave this unattended,” Seungmin argued. “If this made any sense, then I should also have wanted posters up around the streets, but I don’t. And what about Felix’s friend — a stranger, mind you — turning up after being shot? We don’t know why he was shot. We don’t know if he and Felix are up to something.”

Chan called it. Seungmin was pulling accusations out of thin air and his suspicious nature was steering his actions again. For the sake of both of them, Chan gestured to the chair across from him and told Seungmin to take a seat while he explained. Seungmin sat down, intent.

“Firstly, Felix’s friend is one of the most trusted people I know. I’ve known Jisung longer than I have known you, so I trust that whatever situation he has gotten himself into isn’t one that should need to worry myself. As for the wanted poster—” he nodded towards it “—Felix has already talked to me about that day. There’s no need to concern yourself with this, understood?”

Seungmin looked back down at the wanted poster, analysing it as if staring at it longer would help him make up an excuse for his irrational actions. He let out a huff, obviously searching for something to glaze over the embarrassment he’d brought onto himself. Chan watched him slide the paper closer, pointing to the little writing at the bottom of the page.

“What about this, then?” He was referring to the statement that it was NOKC who’d distributed the poster. Chan didn’t even have to answer that question verbally, just giving Seungmin an unimpressed quirk of his brow. Seungmin’s frown moulded into a scowl, muttering something under his breath about it being whatever and it didn’t matter anyway.

Chan rubbed his temple, feeling a stress headache forming. He really did not have the time for Seungmin’s antics today. They were so close to finding an anti-Vil serum — a concoction that would hopefully reduce or reverse the likely permanent side effects of the drug. On top of that, he was planning to make a big move against NOKC, one that would hopefully force them to collapse under the weight of their egos. They just needed the right plan and the right timing, and unfortunately Seungmin was interrupting this right now.

“If you’re concerned, how about I tell Felix not to leave the Hostel for a while?” He proffered, not seeing a different solution to this irrelevant issue. “If you are truly worried about Felix doing something or something happening to him, then I’ll tell him not to leave. Does that sound reasonable?”

“Sure, whatever,” Seungmin grumbled. He snatched back the poster he’d brought in, getting up to leave as he felt the discussion was over.

“Actually, before you go,” Chan said, catching the other man’s attention. “I need you and Hyunjin to do something for me.” Seungmin was listening. “Those two scientists that Felix helped us track down, I need you to get some information from them. We need help creating an antidote to Vil. Minho and his team seem to be stuck on something, so you’ll have to talk to him first, but after that, we need that information. By any means necessary.”

By any means necessary meant that those scientists were free reign so long as Chan got what he needed. Seungmin nodded in understanding. With that, he left. Seungmin’s attitude had been bratty for sure, but at least he would give Chan the peace he required as of right now. There were bigger fish to fry than Seungmin clearly disliking another newcomer.

—

There had always been stars in Jisung’s eyes. It sounded stupidly poetic to say, but it was nothing less than true to Minho. He’d always seen the pretty twinkle in the way Jisung smiled, a sparkle so natural it almost blended in with all the other positives in Jisung’s personality. He had a heart of gold that shone through like a lighthouse lantern reaching into an empty, black ocean. Perhaps Minho didn’t deserve nice things, but if anyone in the world deserved goodness, it was Han Jisung.

But Minho had seen the change recently; those stars were dimming. The stars were dissipating into supernovas, dying out and being replaced with something much darker, much more desolate and emptier. He was still the same old humorous Jisung who could talk for days without stopping, but there was misery developing somewhere deep within him. Something was weighing heavy on him and Minho could see it, but Jisung wasn’t addressing it — whatever it was.

For the time being, Minho was blaming the shift on Jisung’s wounds. Even as he tended to them, they looked violent and painful. Minho was well aware of how much blood the human body could hold, but it still seemed like Jisung had an endless supply inside of him. In a twisted way, Minho hoped Jisung had an endless supply of blood and wouldn’t eventually bleed out and die. It would kill him if Jisung died.

It was true that back in their high school days, Minho had romantic feelings for Jisung, but then and still now, he knew he wasn’t allowed nice things, so there was no luck in pursuing him. While those feelings had dulled, his care for Jisung had not. If Jisung disappeared from his life again, Minho wouldn’t make it out alive. He predicted that should Jisung ever leave, his own death would start slow and painful. Deep sorrow. Soreness in his chest that wasn’t surface level but instead ran far beneath his skin. He would miss him so bad.

“Min, are you okay?” Jisung asked gently, waking Minho up from his inner monologue. Minho’s breaths were shaky, shallow, as he was wrapping Jisung’s upper arm in a fresh bandage. He was pulled back to reality, remembering that they were in the lab and that Jisung was, in fact, not dead and was right in front of him.

“I’m fine. Why?” He wished he hadn’t asked, because not a second after he did, he realised he was holding back tears. He’d been so stuck inside of his head for who knows how long that his body was reacting to his stream of thoughts. Fuck, he needed to pull himself together. He was better than this.

“You look like you’re going to cry. I can bandage myself up if you don’t want to,” Jisung offered. He carefully pried the roll of bandages from Minho’s cold hand, his touch electrifying.

“No, no, I can do it,” Minho said, taking back the wrap. He moved to finish the task he set out to do, securing the gauze around the wound.

He was worried about Jisung; there was no other way to put it. After getting that short, unsettling call from him the other day, Minho had not stopped worrying. There was something too real about Jisung fooling around with death — something too scary about a bullet needing to be dug out of him. Flirting with gangsters for the sake of getting information (which Jisung was particularly skilled at) was one thing, but it was a whole different situation when he was brushing lips with the Grim Reaper.

Minho finished patching the other up, starting to pack away the medical kit laid out on the laboratory desk. Jisung threw his shirt back on, not needing to have easy access to his injuries any longer. He threw his hoodie on over the top. It was a new hoodie that Minho had given to him as a replacement for the clothing that was tainted in the aftermath of getting shot.

A hand landed on Minho’s, gently stopping his movements. Jisung gave him a questioning look, silently asking again if he was okay. Minho wanted to lie again, because that would be the easiest thing to do, but he just gazed back for a moment, staring into Jisung’s eyes. The stars were barely there, mere singular specs of glitter. He wanted to beg for the stars to come back to life. He wanted to beg Jisung to stay with him and never leave. He wanted to be selfish, just once.

“Are you sure you’re fine? You seem upset,” Jisung commented lightly, not prying, but still wanting to know if Minho was doing okay. His touch was burning the back of Minho’s hand, hot like the sun, hot like a star. Too hot for the ice that ran through Minho.

I hate seeing you hurt, was what he was so desperate to admit. I can’t lose you. You’re all I have.

“If you die,” Minho gritted through clenched teeth, “I will kill myself.”

Jisung’s face contorted into a look of shock.

“Don’t talk like that,” he scolded. “I’m alive and well, Min. I’m not going anywhere. Even if I died, I’d come back to haunt you.”

Do you promise?

The thought stunned him. He realised he was getting desperate, which meant he wanted something. And when Minho wanted something, he was bound to never have it. So, before it could be ripped from his grasp, he needed to move on from the topic. He pulled his hand away from Jisung’s.

“Of course, you would,” he replied, trying and failing to make it sound like he was joking around. He just sounded shaken. “Sorry I said that, there’s just a lot going on.”

He tidied up his medical kit, lifting it by the handle and standing as he did so. He assumed Jisung was going to leave now that his wounds had been tended to, but he instead followed behind Minho as he went to return the kit to its respective shelf. Minho put the bag away, sensing Jisung’s presence behind him.

It wasn’t that the two were alone in the lab, it was quite the opposite. Figuring out what they could do to combat Vil was taking a lot of manpower, so they had nearly everyone who usually worked down here in the room right now. But, between the shelves Minho and Jisung were standing between, it felt like they were by themselves. Minho turned, finding his friend looking nervous, standing a little closer than what was normal for Jisung. Before it got awkward, Jisung broke the silence.

“Hey, Min, we’ve been good friends for a while,” he spoke, obviously clarifying something before approaching something more sensitive. Minho nodded to confirm Jisung’s statement. He swore he saw those stars dimming again. “If I told you a secret... you wouldn’t tell anybody. Would you?”

—

Felix wasn’t allowed to leave. Chan had informed him of this yesterday, which was rather disappointing because he was running low on cigarettes. It had been fine for one day, just relaxing and keeping Chan’s bed company for the most part of the day, sitting with Jisung for breakfast and lunch while Chan worked. He had tried going downstairs to the lab with Jisung, just to talk quietly and hang around Minho and Jeongin, but Felix had been rejected entry. When he asked Minho, who’d stopped him at the stairs, why he wasn’t permitted to go down, Minho explained that Jeongin was in a particular mood and didn’t want to talk to him.

Felix obviously had a few questions, but he was kind enough to leave it be. Jeongin had told him about his intense emotional shifts and how draining they could be, so Felix thought he was better off not bothering him about it. He’d left to return to his new room, trying to figure out why he couldn’t go into the laboratory, but Jisung was perfectly fine to.

Not leaving the Hostel also meant that his planned training sessions with Changbin couldn’t go forward because they usually went to Seo House to train. In the meantime, Changbin suggested they make use of the casino on the second floor to make up for lost time (and also because Changbin had been waiting for a break all day). So, that was what they were doing today, playing an intense game of eight-ball and catching a break.

Changbin was winning, quite easily, too. Felix was blaming his success on brute force (because fuck was Changbin muscular) and luck, but deep down he knew it was because the man had a natural skill for the game. Felix was down four wins to one and Changbin only had the eight ball to go this round, so it was not looking good for himself. He watched the other man chalk the end of his pool cue, lining up his shot, steadying his aim, drawing back his arm...

And Felix was done for. Another win to Changbin.

“Fine, I give up!” Felix complained. He placed his cue back in its stand, defeated. He leaned forward on his palms against the leather edge of the pool table, watching with a pout as Changbin sunk the remaining balls, truly showing off his gift. He made it look effortless.

Felix jumped a little when he noticed someone appear beside him, also leaning against the green-felt game table. He turned his head, finding Chan standing close, watching Changbin returned his own cue to its respective place. Chan snaked an arm around Felix’s waist, very publicly showing skin ship — something that was rare between the two. They preferred to keep their relationship private, but it would be no shock to anyone at the Levanter Hostel that there was something going on between them. Still, being so open was uncharted territory, so Felix wondered why all of a sudden Chan was doing this.

“Are you winning?” Chan asked, not commenting on why he was holding Felix. Not that Felix minded at all; it was simply new to be showing others their status.

“No,” Felix huffed dramatically, melting into his lover’s touch.

“I’m winning by a mile,” Changbin bragged, beaming in a cocky way. He started retrieving the balls from the pockets, rolling them down to one end. “Currently, we’re five-to-one, and it’s not looking good for Lixie over there.”

Chan hummed, running a thumb over Felix’s hip. “So, it wouldn’t be devastating if I stole Felix away for a while?”

Felix stared at him curiously, wondering what Chan had in mind when he was asking for his company. The gentle squeeze Chan gave his hip told him exactly what he wanted to hear. He held back a mischievous smile.

—

Minho had seen Jeongin jittery before, but never like this — never shaky and paranoid like a nervous bag of bones. He had eyebags sagging beneath his dull, youthful eyes, which were blown wide open, searching around the laboratory for something. Even one glance at his frame could tell somebody that the man was disturbed by something; something internal, too, as there were no immediate external stresses present. Maybe work stress could qualify as an external stressor, but it had never been so bad that Jeongin was so obviously drowning in himself.

Minho approached him in the lab, asking him to step aside for a private conversation. He guided Jeongin to the flight of stairs leading up to the foyer, stepping up until they nearly reached the top. They stopped before they reached the exit. The air up here was less stuffy than between the four concrete walls of the basement, yet Jeongin still looked like he was struggling to regulate himself.

“Is it too much?” Minho asked, referring to their tireless work. He understood; this rush for an anti-Vil drug was pushing the limits on his mental capacity like nothing ever had before, so he’d understand if Jeongin was feeling the strain, as well.

But Jeongin shook his head in a silent denial. His eyes were unsteady, never sticking on an object for too long, moving, searching for a distraction. He was sweaty, Minho noticed. He stood restlessly, not once allowing himself the solace of relaxation.

“Well, I can’t let you keep going if you’re clearly not in a state to work. Take an early break or go and eat something. You’re obviously stressed out,” Minho instructed, motioning upstairs, vaguely towards the elevator, vaguely towards the cafeteria.

“Um, actually...” Jeongin spoke warily. He shifted onto the opposite foot. “Can we talk quickly?”

—

Lewd noises spilled from Felix’s lips as Chan fucked him into the mattress, tainting the pure white, silky sheets. Felix’s fingers curled around the blankets, gripping onto them to stabilise his body while he was being beautifully defiled from behind. Chan was driving him absolutely insane. It should have been assumed that keeping the two of them in the same vicinity for a long period of time would eventually lead to this. It wasn’t like they tried very hard to keep their hands off each other; this was even less so when it was only the pair of them in a room together.

Their bodies were drawn to each other like magnets for love and sex. It was addicting.

“F-fuck...”

Felix let out a deeply pleasured groan when he reached climax, shivering while he rode out his orgasm. His forehead fell onto the bedding, holding his body weight up with his elbows as Chan thrusting into him mercilessly. His moans turned into overstimulated whimpers, his chest heaving.

“I’m not finished with you yet, pretty boy,” Chan spoke into Felix’s ear, voice gravelly and filled with lust. Rough hands grabbed his hips, and Chan began to fuck him completely senseless, teeth finding their way to his shoulder and nipping at the sensitive flesh — Chan’s favourite way to claim Felix.

“Please— ah, please,” Felix was begging now. Begging for what, he could exactly tell, but he knew he needed something from Chan, and he would need it very soon, or else he might go mad.

“Please what?”

“I can’t— I can’t take it,” Felix whined, revelling in this blissful exertion he was experiencing.

But please never let this end.

“Nearly there, baby,” Chan breathed lowly, dragging his lips over the back of his boyfriend’s neck. “Take it like a good boy for me.”

Felix moaned as Chan’s hips finally stuttered and he bit deep into sweaty skin, indicating this was coming to an end, much to Felix’s disappointment. Chan finished off inside him, pulling out only to fall onto the bed next to his trembling body, watching as Felix collapsed onto the mattress at last. He was given no recovery time before Chan was kissing him, passion and possession seeping into the lascivious moment.

Felix drank his lover in like he was the very oxygen keeping him alive, breathing down the devotion that dripped from him. This man was the very light that warmed him on a winter’s harsh night, and the very gentleness in the breeze of a summer evening that caressed his face. He was the milk in his tea and the poison in his wine, the heart and the soul that gave him reason for existence. Chan was his everything in every way possible.

Emptiness kissed him when Chan pulled back, a piercing ringtone invading the room and ruining such a fairytale scene. Before Chan picked up the call, however, he pressed a careful kiss to Felix’s cheek.

“Go have a shower while I’m distracted. I’ll come join you when I’m finished talking with Minho, all right?”

Felix smiled, still dazed. “Okay, baby.”

He got up from the bed, legs weakened but the rest of him highly energetic from the rush he just got. He went to the bathroom and turned on the shower, standing underneath the hot spray of water. The water dripped down and washed away the evidence of the sins he had committed tonight, but he still felt giddy as he thought over those blasphemous acts. He milled on the facts of his life and the complex conditions he had set up for himself.

It was hard to care about hiding his true identity when he cared so much more about giving his love to Chan. It was harder than anything to let Chan take in this tweaked version of Felix and not be able to fully take in Chan, just in case something ever went down. It was also hard to put thought into the situation when all Felix wanted to do was bathe in his post-sex bliss. He buried the train of ruminations far down into the narrowest crevices in his mind, replacing the gruesome thoughts with ones about the wonderfully warm sensation Chan had left him with. Oh, how he loved Chan.

Felix startled when Chan opened the bathroom door with a loud slam, his boyfriend stepping inside, suddenly fully clothed. He peaked his head out of the shower cubicle, befuddled by the abruptness of the other man’s actions. He found Chan walking over to the shower, and he slid the door fully open, before reaching through the relaxing spray to turn the water off. Coldness overtook the warmth, and Felix was left with a frosty chill going down his back.

“Get out,” he demanded. Felix shivered; half by fault of the sudden coldness he was met with and half by fault of Chan’s tense tone. Immediately, he knew something was wrong; Chan had been told something very urgent in that phone call with Minho. So, Felix listened and got out of the shower, hurrying to dry himself off and throw on some clothes.

“What happened?” He asked, patting his dripping skin dry with the towel that he’d grabbed from a hook. His mind instantly went to Jisung and his wounded conditions. “Is Jisung okay?”

“Don’t talk about it,” Chan ordered, hovering by the door. He was eyeing Felix in a peculiar way, catching the attention of the naked man. But before Felix could question him, he spoke again. “There’s going to be a meeting. Hurry up.”

Felix did just that, throwing on the first pair of jeans he found and a t-shirt that he had stolen from Chan and claimed as his own a while ago. Chan didn’t give him time to put on shoes, grabbing his upper arm and dragging him back through the apartment without providing him any context as to why this was an emergency. They exited the apartment and found themselves in the elevator.

Chan pressed the button for the ground floor, which was odd to Felix because the conference room was on the second floor. He then assumed the meeting might be held in the lab, which would make sense if it was something to do with Jisung, he figured. He worried for his friend. He stood by Chan’s side, a strange, distant feeling swirling around in his stomach, sensing an invisible wall between the two. He felt compelled to break the silence — to ask for more information about what they were about to walk into.

Something was different. Something was wrong.

“Chan, can you at least tell me if Jisung’s okay?”

Chan was swift in his next movements, slamming Felix up against the back wall of the elevator and smothering his words in a harsh, lip-swelling kiss. This one was different to the ones from earlier, different from any kiss Chan had ever given him. There was something desperate about the way he kissed Felix, like this was a final moment between them — a heartbreaking farewell rather than a cheeky peck in an elevator.

Chan drew away, only a little, just enough to breathe out his next sentence. “I love you, Felix,” he whispered, pouring his heart into the utterance, “but I fucking hate you.”

The elevator doors opened behind him, letting in a waft of dreadful realisation. And then Chan was tugging Felix by the arm, out of the enclosed box and across the hostel foyer.

Felix heard his heartbeat thumping in his ears, his breath quickening as he came to the horrible, horrible epiphany that there was not going to be a meeting in the laboratory. There was no meeting at all, and they were to be going deeper underground than the lab because, after months and months of Felix lying about who he was, Felix realised Chan had finally figured him out.

He knows.

“What are you talking about?” He asked before he could incriminate himself. He was holding out for any semblance of hope that his instincts were wrong. “Will you just talk to me first? Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

No words were provided in response, but Chan’s grip tightened around his arm and that told him enough. They went downstairs into the neon-lit laboratory, skirting right past the technicians milling about their work, who gave the pair only a glance before returning to their tasks. Felix tried to catch someone’s eye, quietly begging for help. Nobody met his eye, nobody bothered to look, because they knew that if Felix was being taken downstairs, then they didn’t want to acknowledge him.

The two of them went even further down, as expected; Felix tripping down the second set of stairs as he had little control over where he was going.

“Chan, wait,” Felix tried, bare feet scuffing against the dusty, cracked concrete. His soles slipped on the dirt, unable to dig his heels into the ground as he was led to the murder room. “Chan, please wait. What are you talking about?”

Still, his lover did not respond. He was mum as they entered the tiled, blood-stained room, shoving Felix inside to give himself time to lock the door behind them. Felix stumbled, catching himself on the small fold-out chair that stood in the middle of the space. He steadied his body and gulped, terror washing over him as he came to an understanding; he was going to die in this room. He had seen men die in here, and he was to be the next.

Run, was his first thought, sequentially followed by, sit and watch.

With his adrenaline spiking and his instincts to flee being tested, Felix took a deep breath to calm himself and then sat himself on the flimsy seat. His nerves were alight. He looked up in time to see Chan hovering by the bench that held the multitude of torture devices. He swallowed down his apprehension, watching the scarily quiet man, waiting for something to happen.

Chan turned around, displaying a coil of nylon rope in his hold, and began walking up to where Felix was. He sunk back in the chair, retreating from Chan as the man loomed over his cowering body. He upheld his promise, though, never looking away once, even when he had to strain his neck to meet eyes with Chan.

“Give me your hands,” Chan said, firm. “I need to be sure you aren’t going to run.”

“Can we talk? Please? I’m not going to run,” Felix rambled. “I promise I won’t run.”

“I don’t believe you,” Chan hissed. “Now, give me your hands.”

So, with great reluctance, Felix slowly lifted his hands up to be, presumably, tied together. This was a dumb idea. This was going to be how he died. Chan wrapped the length of the rope around his wrists, fastening it tightly around them and then looping again to secure the knot properly. He could see his hands physically trembling and had to ball them into fists to stop the movement. Chan kneeled down in front of him, snaking the long end of the rope around his ankle and the chair leg. His hands were pulled down in the direction the rope was being tugged, captured by it. His gaze never wavered, watching on as he was bound to the seat and his movements were further hindered.

“So. Who are you?” Chan interrogated, breaking the quietude that was suffocating them.

“Felix.” That was the name he went by after he left NOKC, and still the name he went by after Ana died and he left that life behind him. He’d been Felix for years now and that was not going to change now that his legal name had been discovered. Unfortunately, Chan was not taking this as a good enough answer.

“No, no.” He finished tying the rope and got back to his feet. Felix tested the knots, finding there was no room to wiggle out of the rope no matter how hard he could try. “Tell me your real name.”

Felix’s shoulders slumped, his head finally dropping to stare down at his lap. He tried to look, he really tried, but when he saw the raw emotion on Chan’s face, he couldn’t bear facing it. There was less of a threatening look behind Chan’s eyes and more clearly a look of betrayal. Chan was in disbelief and all because the man he deeply, deeply loved had stabbed him in the back and lied to him.

Tears welled in Felix’s eyes, blurring his vision as he watched his fists curl in his lap. This was the end of the road for him.

“Lee Yongbok.”

“The same Lee Yongbok that worked for Next Of Kin Co.?” The gang leader inquired. He was standing close enough that Felix could reach out and grasp his shirt, tug on it and start begging for mercy. Felix should start pleading for his life or at least beg for a quick and painless death.

“I didn’t want to lie about it,” he divulged, tear drops falling down onto the rope around his hands.

“Stop it!” Chan shouted abruptly. Felix flinched. He grabbed a handful of Felix’s overgrown hair and forced him to look up and meet his eyes again. “Stop lying to me. This is the only opportunity you have to start talking. Now is the perfect time to tell me the truth, Lee Yongbok!”

“I had to lie,” Felix explained, holding back a sob. “I had to, or else you never would’ve met with me. I needed to lie.”

Chan had violence boiling under his skin, had ruthlessness in the way he gave Felix’s head a shove and backed away. Yet, sadness gleamed in his eyes, informing Felix of the deeper emotion he was feeling right now. He was deceived for so long and had fallen in love with the very man who had cheated him. His fury was clear to see, but his broken heart was buried deep. His composure was slipping.

“The very first words you said to me were a lie. Your name is Felix? Lie,” Chan stated, barely containing the overwhelming anger inside him. He kept listing, turning around and stopping by the bench once more. “You’ve never had a job before? Lie. You hate NOKC? Lie; you worked for them! All you do is make things up! You lie, and you lie, and you lie!”

“I do hate NOKC,” Felix defended, though his voice shook. “They killed my sister; I didn’t lie about that part.”

“What did you lie about, then? Huh?” Chan pried, turning around again, this time brandishing what appeared to be a carving knife. Felix eyed the blade carefully, recoiling in the seat when the tip of it was pointed at him from an uncomfortably close distance. “Start fucking talking. And try to make it believable.”

“I did work at NOKC. I was— I was—” he struggled to say, especially with a lethal weapon directed at him. “I... was Pi Yongmi’s assistant. But I left! I left because everything NOKC does is evil. And— and I left because they used me to test out Vil, and it took something from me. I don’t know what it was that it took from me, but I left because of it! I realised that staying there was going to kill me. And then... and then, Yongmi had my sister killed because I chose to leave.”

He was on the verge of a breakdown. He could feel it in the way his breathing got even harder and faster, and in the way the tears dampened his hot face. His entire body was uncontrollably shivering, and his voice grew weaker, stifling a whimper when the carving knife was held up to his neck. The sharp edge pressed against one of the many bite marks that littered his skin. Chan looked about ready to lash out.

“I-I never lied about wanting revenge for Ana,” he rambled, “and I never lied when I said I love you.” He choked on another sob, feeling the blade slowly run across the side of his neck. He felt the sting of a shallow cut and snapped his mouth shut, wondering why Chan was hurting him. He was telling the truth. He was being honest, so why was Chan hurting him?

“I told you to stop it,” Chan hissed. “Tell me the truth.”

“I am. I am telling the truth. I promise, Chan. I promise I love you.”

Chan appeared like he was on the verge of slicing Felix’s neck in two. The grip on the knife was tense, trembling with how tightly Chan was grasping it. Felix could feel hesitance. Chan was holding himself back from doing something. Whether he was stopping himself from slaughtering Felix or stopping himself from pulling the blade away, Felix couldn’t tell, but there was hesitance, and it meant that for now, he was alive.

“If you love me,” Chan said, barely taming his internal wrath, “then you’ll do anything for me. Am I right?”

“Yes, of course I’ll do anything,” Felix assured. He briefly wondered if this was a trick question, afraid Chan might be setting him up to agree to something he would never do. Maybe he would make Felix cut his own throat to prove his love. Maybe he would be forced to kill himself in some kind of (even more) twisted Romeo and Juliet display of love. Unfortunately, what Chan uttered next was worse than telling Felix to hurt himself.

“Assassinate Pi Yongmi for me.” There was no hint of mirth in Chan’s tone. There was no quirk of a smile on his lips, no waver in the way he ordered his words, no room for an ultimatum to be implemented. Chan meant this. He no longer trusted Felix, and the only way Felix could prove himself worth trusting again would be to murder the woman who was silently tearing them apart. Chan wanted him to kill Yongmi; to do the one thing he had put off for so long out of fear.

“I— Chan, I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“You can and you will,” Chan rejected. Finally, he retracted the knife from Felix’s sweaty neck, letting his hand fall by his side. This prompted the bound man to let out a short breath of relief, but the relief didn’t last long. Chan started walking away, back over to the bench, and placed the dirtied weapon amongst the other tools. When he made his way in the direction of the exit, Felix felt panic rise in his chest. Chan couldn’t leave right now, not when he hadn’t explained what assassinating the CEO of a criminal empire entailed.

“Chan, I love you. I really love you, but I can’t do that.” He couldn’t be near Yongmi ever again. She would snatch him up like a hawk would a mouse before he could even attempt to snipe her. Chan was underestimating the influence and violence Yongmi had at her fingertips. Felix couldn’t end up back at NOKC.

Chan ignored him and walked up to the door, taking out his key for the lock.

“I can’t!” He pleaded through his hot tears, watching Chan’s back. “Yongmi sent me a note when Ana died. She sent me Ana’s heart in a box and told me that— she told me that nobody’s heart belonged to me but hers! Chan, she’s crazy! I can’t— I can’t go back there.”

Chan turned his head enough to look back at Felix tied to the flimsy chair and begging him for a different kind of mercy. There was stone coldness in the way he stood, with one hand on the door handle and his face set.

“If you don’t bring me her heart on a fucking silver platter, then she can take you.”

The words remained frozen in the air as Chan left the room and locked the door behind himself. Felix’s eyes were stuck on the unmoving door handle, suddenly drowning in devastating quietude. He was left with nothing but his own thoughts, including one that whispered:

Maybe... just maybe I would prefer to be dead.