Youngbae supposed that being the bodyguard of Seoul’s new biggest mob boss-slash-drug dealer-slash-arms dealer-slash-every stereotypical bad guy role, Kwon Jiyong, was possibly the most redundant job in existence.

This wasn’t because the man was one of the scariest people Youngbae had ever met. It wasn’t because Jiyong knew more about guns and blood and murder than probably anyone else in the world. It wasn’t even because Jiyong could probably make a person their pants with a single look.

Youngbae’s job was the world’s most redundant job because his job required him to also – actually more often than not – watch over Jiyong’s model-singer boyfriend, Lee Seungri.

It wouldn’t actually be that much of a problem if Seungri wasn’t the most terrifying motherer Youngbae had ever had the pleasure of meeting. If Jiyong was in the top ten, Seungri would be kilometers ahead of number one.

This very fact was brought to Youngbae’s attention several weeks after he began working for Jiyong. It was not long after Jiyong had taken down the biggest competitor in the drug cartel on the streets. Jiyong had already told Youngbae not to worry too much about Seungri when they were out (a fact that Youngbae had found quite strange) and to just ‘go with the flow of whatever Seungri was feeling at the time.’ Youngbae knew better than to protest.

Of course, it was not long after that particular conversation that Youngbae had found himself shoved unceremoniously into the back of a very bland looking white van along with Seungri, who Youngbae had been supposed to ‘protect’ at the time.

It was a very sloppy job from the get-go, several men in masks, armed with guns that made them look like they were overcompensating for something, yelling demands. Youngbae had been fully prepared to fight, but one look at Seungri, whose eyebrow had disappeared into his hairline, Youngbae backed down.

“Get in!”

Seungri climbed in obediently. Youngbae followed.

The masked men snarled at them as Youngbae sat next to Seungri on the floor of the ripe smelling van. One of the men grabbed Seungri’s face, pulling him forward, his thick fingers squeezing Seungri’s cheek. Seungri’s face was moved from side to side in an inspection before the man threw him backwards.

“You’re even prettier in person,” the man said. He backhanded Seungri, whose face jerked to the side, his platinum blonde hair falling into his eyes. “I bet you’re even nicer when you’re bleeding and begging.” Youngbae opened his mouth to protest but closed it when Seungri nudged him sharply in the ribs.

Youngbae watched out of the corner of his eyes as Seungri was manhandled, his arms pulled roughly behind him and tied, his mouth taped over. Youngbae was given the same treatment, though as more of an afterthought – Youngbae wasn’t quite sure if he was offended by that, he was, after all, supposed to be the bodyguard.

When the van came to a stop, a putrid smelling black bag was lumped over their head. They were escorted through what Youngbae assumed was a long hallway through pushes, kicks, and impolite gestures.

The clichés continued when he was shoved into a chair and tied to it before the bag was pulled off his head.

The face Youngbae was met with looked worse than it smelled. It said a lot as to how ugly the man was, because Youngbae had to physically stop himself from gagging when the man laughed in his face.

“Ah, I hit jackpot,” the man chuckled, “the little pet and the bodyguard.” Youngbae watched as the man made his way to Seungri, taking the bag off Seungri’s head with enough force to send Seungri’s head jerking backwards.

The man took much glee in examining Seungri’s face, running a finger over Seungri’s cheek as his laughter grew louder. He tore the duct tape of Seungri’s mouth first before tearing off Youngbae’s.

“Ah, you really are pretty,” he said to Seungri. “Shame you’re a , or I would have gifted you to my daughter.” It was Youngbae who snarled -- Seungri’s self-control was greater than his ever could be.

“Go to hell,” Youngbae growled at the man.

“The bodyguard has spunk!” the man exclaimed. “Oh. I’m going to enjoy carving into you. But I think he’s going to be much more fun.” The man patted Seungri on the cheek. When Seungri didn’t have an outward response, the man snarled and threw a punch.

Seungri’s head dropped, a small noise escaping from his throat. The man yanked Seungri’s head back, leaning close. Youngbae watched as Seungri’s breathing quickened his eyes large and shining with unshed tears.

“P-please,” Seungri groaned, biting his lip. The man leaned forward, whispering something into Seungri’s ear before tossing him back.