[you know - jay park ft okasian]
[8k words rip]
 

Bonus Chapter 2

[this is meant to be read after (or before tbh) the first chapter of the spinoff, road to everywhere, but it works alone too!]

 

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Thump.

You toss and turn in bed, frowning as you squeeze your eyes shut and curl further into your blankets.

Thump.

But you swear someone’s twisting their fingers through your hair, brushing away the strands by your cheek so they can press their lips to the apple of your cheek, lips strangely cold.

Thump.

Cold fingers trail from your cheek, up your jaw, and along the curve of your ear, the freezing sensation making you shiver into your sheets. Just when you think the fingers have stopped, they trail to the back of your neck, lingering there for much too long. It feels like someone’s breathing down your neck then, the cold fingers fluttering just along the center of your neck, floating listlessly down the curve of your spine, goosebumps rising up and down your spine, your toes curling.

Thump.

You whimper into the pillow when you feel cold lips press along your exposed shoulder, freezing against your skin, the fingers along your spine trailing even further down, stopping near your lower back.

Thump.

“Wake up.” A voice whispers, a deep, familiar voice, one that has all the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end and your back tense. “Wake up.”

And then the cold fingers press down firmly against the small of your back and you’re trying to breathe, tossing and turning while Bang Yongguk whispers into your ear, voice distant, soft, caressing. “Wake up.”

Wake up wake up wake up wake up wakeup wakeupwakeupwakw—

~.~.~.~.~

You jolt out of bed so fast your head spins, your fingers grasping for the hand that always finds you, no matter where you go during nightmares and on especially bad days.

But the fingers aren’t there and you frantically search for Baekhyun, your eyes adjusting to the darkness of your room much too slowly, your sluggish mind reeling to catch up.

And then you remember that Baekhyun hadn’t stayed the night.

You remember the angry words the two of you had thrown at each other three days ago over something you barely remember anymore, the slamming doors, skidding tires, phone calls being sent straight to voicemail, and the angry tears, the regret, the fact that no one’s stealing the blankets from you or elbowing you in the ribs anymore and you ing miss it.

You sigh, slumping against your bed, skin clammy from sweating, and cover your eyes from the morning sun pouring through the closed curtains. That’s when you hear a thump.

You thought it was from your dream and your eyes widen at the sound, head whipping around the room.

Thump.

Your eyes zero in on the window and you slowly slip out of bed, rubbing at the tears in your eyes because of your nightmare. Slowly, you pull open the window, just as a pebble flies through. You duck just in time and the pebble soars over your head, knocking an empty plastic water bottle off your dresser.

You blink, disoriented by the sudden attack before you stick your head out the window, squinting through the sunlight so you can glare at Baekhyun, “What the , Baekhyun?”

“Finally.” He calls out, a dozen pebbles slipping out of his palms as he wipes his forehead in relief. And then he gives you an incredibly sheepish look, whispering loudly, “Sorry, I didn’t see you open the window.”

“Of course you didn’t.” You mumble, crossing your arms, “What are you doing here?”

“Throwing pebbles at your window.” Baekhyun whisper-yells. You stare at him, eyeing the basketball shorts and sweatshirt he’s wearing, his hair a fluffy mess and his nose pink from the early morning cold. He’s clutching his phone and his head is thrown back as he looks straight up at your window.

“I can see that.” You respond, forcing the smile off your face because you’re supposed to be mad. “I have a front door, you know. You didn’t have to bother the neighbors.”

“Too late for that.” Baekhyun says with a wide, -eating grin.

“What did you do?”

“It took me a few tries before I got to your apartment windows.” Baekhyun pouts up at you, lips jutting out. “Everyone’s apartments look the same from out here. I was trying to serenade you with my sweet voice and someone threw a ing shoe at me.”

You watch as he waves a familiar looking pink sandal in the air and the laughter bubbles out of your lips before you can help it. “Oh, my God.” You choke out in between laughter.

“Why are you laughing at me?” Baekhyun practically shouts, voice whiny. “I’ve been out here for two hours and I can’t feel my toes.”

It takes you a full minute to stop laughing at the sight of him and you can tell he’s growing more and more impatient by the second. “You didn’t have to do that, you idiot.” You call out to him, shaking your head at him.

“Of course, I did. I made you cry.” Baekhyun replies, his voice softer than before as he averts his gaze to ground, uncharacteristically bashful. Your heart hammers against your ribcage at his words, at the soft fondness emanating from them. And then he looks back up at you, beaming, and you can’t help but smile down at him, your cheeks squished against your palms as you lean against the windowsill. “I even have a song for you. Wanna hear it?” He tacks on, the beginnings of a song’s chords ringing through the speakers on his phone.

Before you can answer, Mina sticks her head out of the window next to yours and waves a pink slipper, matching the one that had been thrown at Baekhyun, in the air menacingly. She's always the same as before when she's grumpy from lack of sleep. “It is seven in the ing morning. If you sing one more time, I’ll knock you out with this.”

Baekhyun blinks for a moment, stunned, before he jabs a finger at Mina’s direction, even as she ducks back into her room, “You threw the shoe at me? I thought we were friends. How could you—ow.”

His tirade is interrupted by a pink slipper soaring through the air and hitting him over the head, Baekhyun’s shriek echoing in the quiet morning. “I have more where that came from. Now shut up.” Mina calls out before she slams her window shut.

Baekhyun rubs his head, pouting, and you bite down a laugh as you tell him to use the front door, watching as he sullenly trudges back to the front of the building before you duck back into your apartment.

~.~.~.~.~

The minute you open the front door, Baekhyun steps into your apartment, catching you by the waist as he dips his head down, his lips falling to your neck. You’re so surprised by him that he easily walks you backwards into the wall opposite the door, kicking the door shut behind him without a glance back. He presses firm, fluttering kisses all down the column of your neck, his fluffy hair tickling your lips as he follows some kind of invisible trail from the bottom of your chin up to the bottom of your ear.

He mumbles something incoherent against your skin, his fingers gripping tightly at your waist as he pushes you flat against the wall.

Your heart pumps against your chest, the feeling of his lips on your skin so damn welcome because you’ve missed him so badly. You let out a small little gasp and Baekhyun's smile widens against your neck, nipping at the skin there in a way you’re sure will leave a giant hickey later on. “Wh—what are you doing?” You gasp out, breathless.

Baekhyun’s words make no sense, too muffled, but he still hooks his fingers beneath the waistband of your pajama bottoms, thumb rubbing comforting little circles into the skin just along your hips. Your skin tingles and your head swims from his touches and you can’t believe you’re still so affected by Baekhyun and his touch even though it’s been more than a year since you’ve started dated him.

He at your neck particularly hard, fingers slowly inching your pajama pants down your hips, and that’s when you jolt out of the spell Baekhyun so easily puts you in, blinking rapidly, despite the fact that your mouth is hanging open and you’re clinging to his sweatshirt in slight desperation. (You haven't touched him for a whole week, for s sakes.) You shove him off of you, then, though your limbs feel like jelly. There’s definitely not enough strength left in you to shove him off you completely, but he still steps away, immediately taking his hands off of you.

You stare at him, trying in vain to catch your breath, and you think his appearance, the fluffy hair shooting up in all kinds of directions, the sweatshirt slipping off to reveal his collarbones, his swollen pink lips, slick with spit and pink from friction, doesn’t help anything when it comes to thinking straight. Finally, you manage to speak, “I’m mad at you, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun blinks, once, twice, three times, before he grins, all teeth and mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and you think it looks oddly fitting with his current state of appearance. He tilts his head to the side, “Are you really?”

“Yes.” You snap back crossing your arms. He raises his brow in disbelief and you scowl at him.

“Then you're in luck. I know a great way to relieve anger, baby.” Baekhyun tacks on, wiggling his brows suggestively.

“ isn’t going to let you off the hook.” You mumble, glaring at him when he threads his arms around your waist, touch feather-light, gentle, and so damn distracting. “Besides, I need to take a shower and get ready for my morning lecture.”

You push at his hands and ignore the twinkle in Baekhyun’s eyes, trying to edge past him. He grabs your wrist, grin wide and ridiculously cute. He leans close and places a tiny peck on your exposed shoulder, right next to your tank top strap. “I could always join, you know. Save water and all.”

You make a face at him, despite the slight smile tugging at your lips, “We’re not having shower . You nearly died last time and I’m angry at you. If you nearly die again I won’t bother calling the ambulance.”

Baekhyun blinks before his expression twists into a grimace, “Hey! I thought we agreed to never talk about that ever again.”

You just smile, mockingly sweet, and walk away, Baekhyun mumbling behind you.

~.~.~.~.~

“Babe. Babe. Babe. Babe. Bab—”

“Do you want me to murder you?”

“Babe, please. You couldn’t murder me even if I was sleepi—ow.”

“You know...” You look up at the unfamiliar voice, blinking in confusion. Baekhyun pushes himself up off the floor, still rubbing his bottom as he takes his seat next to you with incredibly slow, wary movements, his arm snaking around your waist in a comforting sort of way.

You stare at the blonde boy in front of you, his expression stoic and his eyes flickering slowly between you and Baekhyun, a contemplative glint in his eyes. “It’s funny that the two of you are joking about murder, of all things.” And then the boy smiles, his eyes crinkling in a deceptively cute way, “Especially here. In the library, of all places.”

“If you want to say something, then just spit it out, Yoongi.” Baekhyun bites out, the tone icy.

Yoongi—your eyes widen with recognition because it’s Min Yoongi, a member of the group of boys who had stolen your bomb-rigged weapons case that was meant for EXO so long ago—just gives the two of you a steely little smirk.

(Your heart drops to your chest because you remember Min Yoongi. One of s had opened the case and died. You remember all of them.

You never really had the chance to apologize to them.)

“I just came over to politely ask you two to keep it down. Other people are trying to study.”

You watch as he spins on his heels and stalks away and you swear there’s a flicker of a shadow lingering in the bookshelves right before Min Yoongi turns the corner and disappears from view. You stare after him, the guilt in your chest building and building and building until you swear you catch sight of a familiar Cheshire grin from the shadows of the bookshelf.

“You’ll never forget me.”

His voice echoes in your head then and you pale at how clear it is, how he was so damn right. You’ll never forget Bang Yongguk and just when you think the memory of him is fading, he manages to hit you like a ing brick wall at the most unexpected of times.

Your breathing hitches as you turn your attention back to the textbook in front of you, ignoring the way Baekhyun your hair and murmurs words of concern.

~.~.~.~.~

“I’m mad at you.”

Baekhyun makes a soft noise of dissent and before you can say another word, arms twist around your waist from behind and he buries his nose into the crook of your neck, “Are you really?”

At any other time, you would have easily relented, melting back into him, back into the fingers splayed across your stomach while the other hand your waist like you’re a piece of art, delicate and expensive and ethereal.

You would have relented if it wasn’t for the way your body involuntarily stiffens at his touch or the way your breathing hitches at the way he breathes down your neck. Your fingers dig into his forearms, the slight smile dropping from your lips, and Baekhyun freezes in his gentle caresses.

“Hey.” He murmurs and you don’t respond, you can’t. You’re filled with fear, the kind that’s absolutely paralyzing, and all you can think about is the way Bang Yongguk had held you this way while whispering horrible words into your ears, a gun pressed to the column of your throat. “Hey, it’s okay.”

You whimper, shaking your head.

Baekhyun pulls away from you and you turn on your heels, staring at him with blank, unseeing eyes because all you can ing see is Bang Yongguk and you’re horrified that he’s come back to haunt you so thoroughly.

(You thought this was over one and a half months ago.)

“It’s not him. I’m not him.” Baekhyun’s voice floods your ears, not Bang Yongguk’s, and that’s all you need to hesitate, to keep yourself from crumbling to your knees. “Take a deep breath and think, baby. He’s dead. I’m not him. I’m not Yongguk.”

That’s not him.

You repeat that to yourself, over and over again, and your breathing slows, though still ragged.

This is not Bang Yongguk. Bang Yongguk is dead.

Yongguk is dead.

He is d e a d.

You open your eyes, your heart in your throat, and you find yourself crouching, cheeks pressed into your knees. You look up from your bare, scratched up knees, hair swinging, and you stare straight into Baekhyun’s warm gaze, his eyes searching yours in a careful, speculative sort of way.

“B—Baek?” You murmur his name, your voice cracking halfway through.

He smiles, reaching up, hand hovering but not quite touching. “I’m right here, baby.”

He searches your eyes for permission and your eyes drift, unfocused, from his face to hand before you nod, head jerking back and forth. That’s when he touches you, cupping your cheeks, and he looks at you with so much love that it nearly breaks your heart.

(Because you can only imagine how he feels when you look at him like he’s the man he once hated most in the world and he doesn’t ing deserve that. He doesn’t deserve dealing with this for a whole year now, especially when you don’t even know if it’ll ever really stop.)

He pulls you up, walking you slowly to the couch, fingers threading through yours. He holds your head close to his chest, his scent comforting, and you rest your cheek there, catching your breath, eyes fluttering as you try to relax against him, even as he pulls you closer, the two of you leaning further into the couch, paused drama long forgotten.

You feel a light pressure at the top of your head as he your hair, his legs on either side of your hips as you lie flat against his chest, your fingers curling into his sweater, your grip much too tight. “I’m right here.” He sighs into your hair and you nod and nod and nod, fingers shaking. He repeats it like a mantra, “I’m right here.”

~.~.~.~.~

The next day, you walk into your living room and find Mina sitting cross-legged on the coffee table, a pencil wedged behind her ear and her eyes rapidly flicking through the textbook in her lap. You pause right beside the couch, your eyes widening at the sight. The last time you’ve seen her do something like this was, well, before LILAC was created, before everything.

“Um, good morning?” You ask rather than state, distracted by the way she slowly flips the page of her textbook, while still sitting on the coffee table.

Mina looks up from her textbook after a long moment and smiles, the same kind of mischievous little smile you figured you’d never quite see again.

(But it’s back and it makes you so damn happy.)

“Morning, want to go get some breakfast or something?” Mina asks, a bright familiar look in her eyes. “I’m ing starving. If I have to look at one more molecular equation I’m going to scream.”

You blink at her, eyes searching hers, and you see nothing hidden there. There’s an openness to Mina you haven’t seen in so long and you really think you could cry at the sight. You don’t remember the last time she offered to go out for breakfast, for anything, and, god, you can’t stop smiling at her.

“Yeah.” You respond, breathless. “Yeah, okay.”

You swing the door of your bedroom open, skidding into the room and right into Baekhyun’s chest. He steadies you before you fall over and you look up in apology, watching with that same giant ridiculous grin as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, his hair all over the place and his eyes puffy.

“Where are you going?” He murmurs, yawning in between his words. Then he juts out his bottom lip, blinking down at you, “We didn’t even get to do morning cuddles.”

You rub his arm absentmindedly before sidling past him, wiggling into a pair of pants under Baekhyun's ill-fitting shirt. You snort at him, though, even as you search through your drawers for a shirt, “Morning cuddles like the time you fell asleep on top of me for a whole hour?”

“That was one time.” Baekhyun’s voice is loud and vaguely offended, “And your s are softer than your pillows. I couldn’t help it.”

You pull off your shirt and chuck it at his face. He laughs at you the entire time, easily avoiding the flying projectile. “You’re awful.”

Baekhyun just hums and you can see him in the reflection of your mirror, leaning against the wall as he watches you pull your shirt over your head, pulling your hair out from the collar. He tilts his head, smiling to himself as he watches you push your head through your shirt, “You’re still mad at me, aren’t you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t keep bringing up embarrassing things about me we promised we’d never talk about.”

You turn to face him, combing your fingers through your tangled hair as you give him a long onceover. He’s not wearing a shirt and his shorts are low slung and he looks so utterly cuddly right then, that you get the sudden urge to throw your arms around him, ruffle his hair, and fall asleep for days in his arms.

He must see something in your eyes because he’s pushing himself off the wall and making his way towards you. He gently brushes your hair out of your face and you sigh, “Mina wants to go get breakfast.”

His eyes search yours, darting back and forth, before he breaks into a soft, sleepy grin, his eyes still drooping with exhaustion. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Since she’s asked?”

You nod, but your heart feels heavy. Your friends are getting better, slowly but surely, yet here you are, still a terrible mess Baekhyun is left to deal with it.

He cups your face, fingers warm against your skin, before he leans close and presses a peck against the very tip of your nose, your eyes following his movements, crossing a bit just to watch, much to his amusement. Then he pulls away, not too far, his nose hovering centimeters from yours as he continues holding your face in his hands. He rubs his thumbs along your cheekbones, a fond little smile playing on his lips, though his eyes grow incredibly serious as each second ticks by.

“Healing is different for everyone. Some people take time.” He leans down to kiss your right cheek, “You—” He bends down to kiss your other cheek and you wrinkle your nose, laughter bubbling from your lips as he holds your face in place and kisses wherever he can reach after every word that leaves his mouth. “Just—” Kiss. “Need—” Kiss. “Time.” Kiss.

By the end of it, you’re blushing and squirming in his grip, your smile entirely too wide, and he doesn’t stop kissing your face, your closed eyelids, your temple, the bridge of your nose, your chin, anywhere he can get his pretty pink lips on.

“Okay.” You murmur, breathless, your fingers wrapping around his wrists as you squeal when he gets you along your hairline, “Okay.”

Baekhyun pauses then, brushing your hair back out of your face, his expression so soft, so open that it leaves you even more flushed. Baekhyun nudges at your cheek with his cheek, leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw, one after the other, lips trailing along and leaving you shuddering, a mess under his lips like always. And then he reaches the very corner of your lips, his mischievous little grin growing wider against your skin. You huff, but he doesn’t go anywhere near your mouth, not until you crane your neck and initiate the kiss, though he doesn’t let it get deep, pulling away before you can slip your tongue into his mouth.

“Aren’t you supposed to be mad at me?” He raises a brow, pink lips swollen and so inviting.

“Baek.” You whine, reaching for him.

He just pulls away, settling his hands on your waist. “I’ll make it up to you this Saturday. A date.”

You pout, “Why do I have to wait five whole days until our date? We’re already dating.”

He just grins, all teeth and twinkling eyes, “Go eat breakfast. Mina’s waiting.”

Your pout grows as he smacks your playfully, sidling around you before throwing himself on your bed, curling into your blankets. “I hate you.” You mumble, eyeing him in disdain, all laid out on your bed with a impish tilt to his lips.

He responds with an air-kiss and a dismissive wave of his hands, effectively kicking you out your own room.

~.~.~.~.~

“I already told Jess and I meant to tell both of you, but I got an internship.” Minhee announces over her sandwich, her grin wide. They’re sitting in the university cafeteria, at peak lunch hours, the lines in the food court ridiculously long. You spot Jessica in line for the pho, Jongin leaning entirely too close when he speaks in her ear, Sehun nowhere in sight.

Mina, who sits beside you, matches Minhee’s grin, “That’s incredible.”

“I mean, I do type much slower than I used to.” Minhee sighs, waving her cloth-wrapped hand in annoyance. You think it’s cute that she wraps her hand in a new, adorable design every day, especially since she gets it to color coordinate with her outfits (which you figure is Mina’s influence). Today, she has multicolored bears set on a baby blue background, to match her blue blouse and jeans. “It makes hacking so much harder.”

You blink at Minhee, “You got a hacker job?”

Minhee rolls her eyes, cackling loudly, “No, of course not. That’s a future dream job.” Minhee throws her arms out in a dramatic way, “Choi Minhee. Super Duper Top Secret Government Hacker. Now that’s the dream.”

Mina snorts, “I don’t think that’s the actual job title.”

“Obviously.” Minhee rolls her eyes, “They're going to be discrete about it. Right now, though, I got a position under a few software engineers for a sales contracting place in Jellyfish City. Something about security.”

“But that’s so far away.” You say, frowning at the distance.

“They’re offering to pay for taxi transportation.” Minhee’s grin slowly gets bigger and bigger.

“No ing way.” Mina gasps.

“I know.” Minhee squeals, nodding as she bounces in her seat and you can’t help but grin at her excitement.

(You know that for the longest time, she believed she wasn’t going to find a job, not after losing her fingers and having to deal with relearning how to do the simplest of tasks because of her disability. You’re so ing happy for her that you can’t stop grinning.)

Then you frown, “Then why are you still hacking?”

“Huh?” Minhee looks up, confused, before she manages to register your words. LILAC was still active, but not as much as it used to be. You don’t take on tasks that involve hacking and everything you’ve been organizing was mostly drug deals and anything Kris would want you to tag along in. You’re still making money, a lot more than you expected actually, and Kris still tries to exploit that money out of you, because he’s ing Kris and he won’t really let you live. But hacking and huge operations like robbing banks were out of the question.

“Oh.” Minhee’s lips press into a thin line. “Sehun’s being a piece of .”

“How?” Mina asks, raising a brow.

You watch as Minhee stares at the table for a moment, her smile slipping off her face, before she’s grinning again, expression a lot less excited than it had been just a few seconds ago. “A few months ago, he challenged me out of the blue. Said I was a techie and he bet that I wouldn’t be able to hack and destroy the security system he has set up for EXO’s database by Christmas.” She scoffs at the memory, snorting loudly, “As if I need by Christmas.”

“Oh.” Mina nods, her brows furrowed. You can see the gears turning in her head as she thinks over why Sehun would antagonize Minhee of all people.

“Have you tried it yet?” You ask.

Minhee’s expression darkens, turning down into a full frown. “Yeah, I have. The typing speed to get through the firewalls is ridiculous.” Minhee’s expression fills with contempt and a dark sort of bitterness that’s barely detectable, but you’ve known her long enough to spot it. “I could have done it last year after a few tries, but now it’s just…”

She trails off and sighs.

Mina easily switches the subject then, her fingers fiddling with the scarf around her shoulders as she talks with feigned interest about the latest drama she’s been watching, something about a psychiatrist and an author, and you can’t help but mull over Minhee’s words.

(Because a few months ago, Minhee hadn’t been herself. She had been more than just sad and she wouldn’t leave her room unless it was for class or a medical checkup with Yixing. Then she had come back to them, the fun bubbly Minhee had returned, a force to be reckoned with, and they all wondered how. Now, you think it had something to do with Sehun provoking her and your heart swells a bit because it was sweet and you think you should thank him the next time you see him.)

Finally, finally, you’re all doing better. Despite the few death threats from strangers, you and your friends are doing so much better and you could cry at how much your heart swells at that fact.

~.~.~.~.~

You all have a lot of enemies. You know that, Kris knows that, even Jung Soojung knows that.

She gives you warnings sometimes, in the guise of being wrapped up in Amber's arm and acting like she's filling you in on her love life, when in reality, she's telling you about all the rumors and schemes manifesting around you and LILAC and sometimes even Baekhyun.

(She never does this with Kris or any of the other EXO members and you wonder how that had happened, how and when Soojung and f(x) lost faith in EXO in particular while still keeping faith in LILAC, in you.)

"The Bangtan Boys. BTS. They want you dead." Soojung whispers in between playful giggles into Amber's shoulder, her hand curled around your arm as if you've just told the funniest joke. "Be careful."

BTS, the Bangtan Boys as they introduced themselves to you, is the syndicate Min Yoongi is a part of and your heart twists because your bomb from long ago killed one of theirs. Of course you're one of their targets.

(You should have been aware of this.)

You nod, pulling Soojung into a hug, your eyes locking with Amber's over her shoulder. "Thank you." You murmur into her ear, eyes flickering over Amber. Amber nods in acknowledgement and you speak into Soojung’s ear, "But please stop endangering yourself like this. People will find out that you're helping me and I won’t forgive myself if something happens to you."

Soojung just pulls away from you, smiling gently, "Like I said before, you're my friend. You helped me accept myself for loving girls, for loving Amber, and that makes you special to me. I won't abandon you."

And then she gives you a friendly pat on the cheek, smiling a little sadly, eyes distant, before taking Amber's hand and leading her away from you, dread filling your chest as you watch her walk away.

~.~.~.~.~

So maybe, you should have known.

With Soojung’s warning and Kris’s insistence on staying low, you should have known something would happen.

You should have ing known.

But you didn’t and here you are, answering to one of your men’s frantic calls without so much as a second thought, rushing to the rescue because that’s what you do. That’s your problem, you’re too naïve, too trusting, and you run into situations without thinking, if only that meant you’d be able to help your people. EXO having all your weapons in their warehouse only made the situation worse, infinitely worse.

So here you are, Mina and Minhee at your side, basically weaponless compared to the boys surrounding you.

(The small switchblade in your hand can’t do against six boys with a handgun, an axe, or a knife of their own, each of them holding one of those three weapons. You can’t do to them when you’re barely armed and they’ve all got bitter revenge written across their faces.)

Min Yoongi grins with all of his teeth, glinting under the dim lights, and you look each of them in the eye, wondering who they had lost, who you had killed to turn them into this.

Mina touches your elbow and you figure she’s trying to silently communicate something to you, but you can’t concentrate on anything but the grief in one of the shorter boy’s eyes. Your eyes widen with recognition as you stare and stare, as you remember who exactly he is, his purplish-blonde hair gleaming. He’s the one who had told you that your money had killed his boyfriend, the night you killed Yongguk.

His smile is all kinds of haunting, because right then and there, you both know who the other is, right then and there, you know how badly he wants you dead.

“Park Jimin.” One of the boys to your left states, like he’s a judge doling out a verdict, one you don’t understand. He’s blonde, his voice deep, rumbling, familiar, but you can’t tear your eyes away from the purple-blonde one.

“Excuse me?” Minhee speaks up, her voice steady, angry.

“His name was Park Jimin. The boy you killed.” This time the boy you’re staring at is speaking, his voice soft and smooth and rumbling. You think that he looks like the kind of boy who used to laugh a lot and he reminds you of Baekhyun a bit. That makes it worse.

“I didn’t mean to.” You speak quietly, shaking your head. “I’m sorry. I never meant to kill him.”

(There’s another death added to your body count, now that you know his name he’s real, so ing real. You swear you can hear Yongguk laughing in your ear, chuckles crawling up your spine, burrowing itself there.)

“But you did.” Min Yoongi snaps back from your right. “You blew him to bits. Do you want me to tell you what happened? Do you want me tell you that he didn’t die right away? That he loved to laugh and we couldn’t even get him to laugh one last time, we couldn’t get him to do anything but ing beg to die. He suffered and—and—”

You watch Yoongi choke on his words, the sounds coming out of his open mouth silent, dying away, as he watches you with fury in his eyes. Your eyes sting and you shake your head, a little franticly. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t worry, though.” Park Jimin’s boyfriend, the purple-blonde haired one, speaks in a mocking voice, his voice thick with emotion as his dark eyes pierce yours, as if he’s memorizing your face, branding you into a list in his head. He’ll never forget you, you know that, and you know he’ll never rest until you suffer the same way he is. “We won’t kill you just yet. We won’t kill any of you yet.”

Mina’s grip on your elbow tightens but you can’t stop looking at him. “What do you mean?” You murmur.

“If we take you to him, he promised that he’d make you suffer.”

“…Who?” Minhee balls her uninjured hand into a fist.

A cynical, murderous grin drips from Park Jimin’s boyfriend’s lips, and slowly, the others match his grin, even as he continues speaking, stepping towards you slowly, menacingly. “You can’t even figure that out? How many enemies do you girls have?”

He takes another step towards you and Minhee’s sharp intake of breath, of fear, pulls you out of your thoughts. You immediately flip the switchblade in your hand back and perpendicular to your forearm the same way Zitao had taught you, a few months ago, stepping forward into a fighting stance you’ve learned from Baekhyun (the few times you two actually trained rather than make out).

And then the other five boys behind Park Jimin’s boyfriend step forward, the taller, baby-faced one could take you down with his muscles and height alone, but you refuse to show fear, not after the amount of vulnerability you’ve already shown them. You’re not going down without a damn fight and you want them to know that.

“Another step closer and I’ll gladly help you reunite with your boyfriend.” You murmur, the coldness in your voice, the coldness of whatever survival autopilot your body’s gone into, making you flinch internally.

Park Jimin’s boyfriend’s expression contorts with rage and grief and a thousand other emotions, a madness clouding his eyes, and all you can think about is protecting Minhee and Mina. “Run.” You mutter to them, even as he begins to circle you like a lion stalking his prey.

“I don’t think so.” Min Yoongi pipes up, as he heaves an axe over his shoulder, the axe covered in what you hope is just rust, and you pale.

Yoongi laughs, biting and awful, and Minhee murmurs a soft, “I can take care of myself.”

She doesn’t even sound like she believes her own words.

(You don’t want to think about how you know the three of you won’t last a minute in this, that the minute you begin, it’ll also all be over, and your mind drifts to Baekhyun.)

Your mind drifts to Baekhyun and you feel sorry, even as you stare at the boy before you, because he is just that; a boy, a boy whose world you’ve take from him, and it makes it infinitely worse because this boy’s nose wrinkles the same way Baekhyun’s does. All you can think about is Baekhyun and you think—

“Six against three is hardly fair, don’t you think, Namjoon?”

Your head snaps to the side and Kris tilts his heads, two pistols cocked in each of his hands, Jongdae, Minseok, Baekhyun, Joonmyun, and Luhan flanking his sides, anger flickering through their eyes.

“ off. This is none of your business.” The deep voiced blonde, Namjoon, dips his head to the side, eyes blazing.

“I believe you’re very wrong about that.” Kris responds, easily stepping into LILAC’s warehouse, his footsteps echoing loudly. His entire demeanor is intimidating, demanding, and Park Jimin’s boyfriend steps back for a moment at the sheer weight of Kris’s presence, especially when Kris points one of his guns at him. “Now back off.”

“No.” Park Jimin’s boyfriend speaks up and you watch as Kris steps closer and closer, even as Jongdae and Baekhyun flock to Minhee, Mina, and your side, Baekhyun pressing a reassuring hand into the small of your back while Jongdae murmurs concerned questions to both Minhee and Mina, his motherly side flitting through for just a moment.

Park Jimin’s boyfriend doesn’t step back when Kris is standing right in front of him and Kris looks utterly furious at the lack of respect.

Kris’s gummy smile is a ferocious thing to be reckoned with and the entire room seems to hold their breath in anticipation, wondering what he’ll do. It looks like Kris is going to shoot him point blank between the eyes.

But Kris doesn’t shoot Park Jimin’s boyfriend, no, Kris shoots out his arm, gun still in his hand, and punches him so hard, the boy stumbles and falls. The sound isn’t like the crunching of bones you expect, it sounds like a wet scrunch, like Kris had broken everything in his face and the boy screams, clutches his face, skin scraping along the cement warehouse floor, blood oozing from his face, his eye swelling.

That’s when one of the quieter boys, the tall baby-faced one raises his gun, pointing it right at Kris. Baekhyun steps away from you then, moving closer to Kris, Luhan and Minseok right behind him. But Kris doesn't need them.

He turns one of his guns downwards, the movement so fast that you barely catch it, and he shoots the purple-blonde haired boy in the arm, his expression as stoic as always. The choked cry that leaves the boy’s lips rips through your soul and you try to step forward, only to be pulled back by a strong grip you belatedly recognize as Jongdae.

His eyes drift from Park Jimin’s boyfriend’s sobbing form, the boy clutching at his arm, blood everywhere, expression blank, to each of the five other boys.Then his heavy gaze falls on Namjoon.

“If you do this again, I’ll blow each of your brains out one after the other. Understand?”

Namjoon’s jaw twitches, the furious tension in his expression tight as he stiffly dips his head into submission, his eyes pinned on Park Jimin’s boyfriend. “I understand.”

~.~.~.~.~

“If you ing listened to me, then this wouldn’t have happened.” Kris’s shouts at you, his thundering voice echoing all throughout the basement. For a moment, you wonder why he even bothered asking to talk to you down here if everyone would hear the conversation anyway.

“Don’t yell at me.” You snap back, your voice half the volume of his.

“What else am I supposed to do? You don’t ing listen to me otherwise.” Kris growls out, his fingers balling into fists.

“Why the does it matter if I listen to you or not?” You match his tone then, the anger boiling in your veins. The emotions, the anger that he had shot that boy, fills your veins and manifests into an anger that could match Kris’s.

“Because you could have died.” Kris’s voice drops in volume so suddenly, you’re stunned into silence, blinking at him.

“Are you kidding me?” You mumble, quickly finding your voice, your hands dragging through your hair. “Don’t tell me you really do care about that now. What happened to business relationships?”

“I don’t care about you. Frankly, I think you’re a who’s in way over her ing head.” Kris states, pausing in his pacing, his dark eyes analyzing you carefully, “But did you ever stop to wonder what would happen to Baekhyun if you died? Do you ever stop to think about him? About how you being alive directly affects him?”

“Of course I do.” You hiss, rage gathering in your chest.

“Clearly, you didn’t think about him when you ran off without a second thought today.” Kris pauses next to the bar in the back of the basement, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

“I don’t need or want you to give me relationship advice.” Your voice is soft, raspy from screaming at him.

He doesn’t answer, instead he pulls out a second glass and pours whiskey into the glass. You watch, frozen, as he pushes it across the counter, in your direction, without ever looking at you.

Slowly, carefully, you stride across the room and wrap your fingers around the glass. He finally turns to you, watching as you down the whole thing, and you doubt you were able to hide your shaking fingers from his keen eyes.

“I will do everything in my power to keep your sorry alive. Or at least until Baekhyun realizes he could do much better.” Kris mutters, tilting his head to the side as he stares right into your soul. “When that happens, I’ll be the first to kill you. Do us all a favor and make this easy.”

“You’re an .” You tell him, your eyes still widening at his words, your heart still twisting a bit at the dig.

“He deserves to be happy.” Kris says, sipping at another glass of whiskey. “Stop trying to save every damn person you feel bad for and think about yourself. Think about him.”

“I do—”

“I saw you when I shot Taehyung. You didn’t even think. If Jongdae hadn’t held you back, you would have jumped right into the middle of it.” Kris’s voice is blunt, angry. “Compassion for strangers makes you weak. It makes you vulnerable. Didn’t you learn from Yongguk?”

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out of your mouth. Slowly, you close your mouth and he pours you another glass of whiskey before brushing past you, his footsteps fading away as you stare at the bar, mulling over his words.

~.~.~.~.~

Mina dissolves into tears on Thursday morning, when Minseok mentions that there have been more rumors about YG City enlisting people to find them, and she doesn’t calm down until Yixing pulls her into one of Baekhyun’s guest rooms, locking the two of them away until dinner time.

When she comes out, the fire in her eyes is gone and you’re afraid of the regression.

Baekhyun keeps you calm, absentmindedly your skin whenever he walks by, reminding you that he’s there, but you know that he’s on edge, too. You’re not the only one going through things and sometimes he needs to take an extra breath when you touch him and it leaves you on edge, too. You’re seeing Yongguk again, along with a faceless boy you’re pretty sure is supposed to be Park Jimin, and it’s getting progressively worse.

Everything is getting progressively worse.

Jessica disappears Friday morning after Mina reappears, and Jongin and Sehun have no idea where she went. They go looking for her a few hours later because she’s still gone by lunchtime (you two were supposed to have lunch together) and you’re frantic at that point.

Minhee goes to her internship and her smiles are too wide, too happy.

You’re all falling apart all over again.

~.~.~.~.~

The next day, your phone buzzes by your head and you have half a mind to ignore it. You’re curled up in your bed, laptop balanced on your lap and head propped up on your pillows. You’re trying to binge watch your favorite shows on Netflix and forget everything, but then your phone starts to buzz again.

Sighing, you reach up and grab your phone, unlocking it, groaning at the name attached to the message, mostly because you can’t figure out how Baekhyun manages to change his name on your phone every damn time. You never give him your passcode.

From: baekkie the love of my life the fire in myloins <3 <3 <3 <3

get your lazy out of bed we’ve got a date

To: baekkie the love of my life the fire in myloins <3 <3 <3 <3

Is now really the time? Jessica’s still missing.

From: baekkie the love of my life the fire in myloins <3 <3 <3 <3

i'll break into ur apartment and steal ur laptop.

To: baekkie the love of my life the fire in myloins <3 <3 <3 <3

Fine. I’m coming. Also I hate you, stop changing your name on my phone.

From: baekkie the love of my life the fire in myloins <3 <3 <3 <3

pls u love it :))))))))))))))))

~.~.~.~.~

You step out of your bedroom only to find Baekhyun lounging around on your couch, in sweatpants and a soft looking blue sweater, the one you always want to cuddle into because it’s so soft.

You blink, turning from him to the door, your eyes wide. “Were you in my living room the entire time?”

“Yup.” He hums, nodding as he continues to scroll through his phone, his eyes occasionally flickering up to look at you, as if he’s doing it unconsciously.

“Why?”

“I found this recipe for a cake and I thought it’d be fun to bake together.” Baekhyun smiles, dropping his hands to his lap as he looks at you, eyes sparkling softly. You melt at his gaze, smiling despite everything.

“You nearly burned down your house the last time you tried to cook for me.”

“We don’t talk about that.” He mumbles as he pushes himself off the couch and grabs your arm, pulling you along behind him and into the kitchen.

You’re halfway through mixing the batter when he shoves a handful of flour in your face. You shriek, throwing flour at him, and the noise that leaves his mouth is inhuman in its pitch.

"Are you part dolphin?" You ask. 

He blinks, grins, and says, "You were never supposed to find out..."

Then he hurls a handful of flour into your open mouth and you screech, jumping in place.

You dissolve into laughter as he chases you around the room and you nearly fall into the counter with laughter when he screams even louder than you after you manage to shove flour down the front of his shirt, watching him squirm. It’s a giant mess but you’re laughing and he’s laughing and there are tears in your eyes, your cheeks hurting, even as he finally catches you, smearing your forehead with flour. You press your face into his chest, covering up your laughter and you love the sound of his giggles. It keeps going like that until eventually you’re pulling away and he’s staring into your eyes, the laughter dying away, evaporating into the quiet kitchen. It’s an incredible feeling, holding him in your arms, and you can’t stop grinning, though the silence in the room is all-encompassing, ringing in your ears, his fingers finding your waist as he pushes you into the edge of the counter. Your cheeks still hurt with the intensity of your smile despite the quiet tension in the room, the careful, watchful eyes and the tentative touches, the way his eyes pin you down, the way he fiddles with a strand of flour coated hair, brushing it away with the gentle sort of tenderness you’ve learned to associate with him.

His pupils are blown out, dark and watchful, and you’re pushing up on your tiptoes, lips pressing against his. He holds you against him, his lips moving against yours, and your lips sting with the roughness of it, with the messiness of it all. But you don’t care, you could kiss him all day.

But you need to breathe. He pulls away first, though his lips are still a hairsbreadth from yours, hovering, eyes wide, glassy, and lips pink and swollen. His tongue darts out over his lips and he pulls on his bottom lip with his teeth, his eyes scanning your face.

“Everything will be okay.” He whispers, reminding you of everything, voice rough and deep, shivers running down to the very tip of your toes as he grinds his hips down into yours, his words soft.

You believe his words.

You pull him down to your lips again and you show him how much you believe him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he hitches you up on the counter, his grip tight, twisting through your hair, fingers trailing down the plane of your body, following the well-travelled paths he knows makes you squirm the most, and he presses a firm kiss to your lips, bruising in its intensity, just like always. He’s a contradiction against your body, soft coupled with rough, a juxtaposition that leaves you breathless every time. He’s a contradiction, an anomaly, one you think you won’t ever stop believing in.

You could believe in anything he says.

You want to, but then five minutes later, five minutes of dragging nails and discarded clothing, of Baekhyun's hands curling in your hair, tugging you close as he sprawls out on the counter, there’s a banging at the door, Kyungsoo’s voice drifting through from the other side, filled with urgency and a sort of concern you’ve never heard in his voice before.

You blink rapidly, your lips pausing in its exploration of his torso, your hands falling away from the waistband of Baekhyun’s sweatpants, and he sits up on the kitchen island, confusion filling his dark eyes as he hovers over you. You stare up at him, too far gone to really think about what you’re supposed to do next, and he cups your cheek, gently, eyes searching yours carefully before he reaches behind him and hands you your bra. “Come on.” He murmurs and you slowly begin to register the clothes being handed to you, the hands helping you get dressed quickly since the banging at the door only seems to get louder and more impatient.

Finally, you’re completely dressed and you peck Baekhyun on the lips, quick and chaste and full of promise to finish this later, and he smirks at you, even as you roll your eyes and make your way to the door, hesitating before you grab the rolling pin off the floor just in case.

Baekhyun snorts from behind you at your weapon of choice, but you ignore him.

You swing open the door and you’re pushed aside by the boys almost immediately, barely able to make out whatever they’re dragging in with them.

(Everything isn’t going to be okay, though.)

Not when you follow them into the living room and watch as Luhan ties a man with a black cloth over his head onto one of your dining room chairs, securing him viciously.

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask, turning to Kris, who’s overseeing everything with a speculative expression. You glance at Baekhyun and he looks just as confused.

“Your apartment was closest.”

“What are you talking about? Who the hell is that?” You turn on Kris fully, hands on your hips.

It’s quiet for a moment and Kris ignores your questions.

So you take matters into your own hands, stalking across the room, easily pushing Kris’s hand aside, and reach for the black cloth over the man’s head, ripping it off. You throw it aside and stare at the man.

Then you pale, even if the familiar man—boy—stares up at you with laughing eyes, a gag in his mouth and cuts riddling his face, head lolling to the side as if it’s too heavy for his sinewy shoulders.

And then he starts laughing, the sound muffled by the gag, his shoulders shaking, and you think you’re going to cry, even as you slowly back away, before turning on Kris, who gestures to the hallway.

(It’s starting again and you had hoped you’d have a little bit longer to prepare.)

Your grip tightens around the rolling pin as you stomp after him. Baekhyun takes one look at your face and trails after you, his palm flat on your back, a soothing anchor holding your anger down.

Kris doesn’t wait for you to speak, his tone sharp and cold.

“Zelo let us catch him. I know he did.” Kris grits his teeth. “I just can't figure out why.”

---

a/n: So I started a spinoff called road to everywhere that's jessica/sehun/kai focused and occasionally I'm gonna make complimentary bonus chapters here for those, but I'd rather make the bonus chapters here super fluffy and short. I just got carried away here rip so have this mess and I'll try to update with less of me getting carried away wayyyy too much.

Thank you so much to everyone who commented and subscribed to this and got this featured!!!!!!!!!! i love you all so much i literally slid out of my chair in the library in excitement and gratefulness and got a bunch of weird looks because I was holding my face in my hands in shock rip. omg yall are lovely and beautiful sweethearts i love u all a lot i feel so blessed thank you!!!

Also Lightsaber baek is honestly how I imagine mafia baek to be I'm crying a little.

xoxo