Hi hi. I feel like I haven't updated in forever. I've been very busy. 

By the way, if I haven't said it before, thanks for reading and subscribing and upvoting (well the one person who did. You know who you are) and commenting (again, you know who). Always always appreciated. 

Warnings: nonconsensual fondling.

Sixth Thread - Suho

Kai greets him at the front door. “I’m hungry,” he whines as Suho pushes past him. “Hey! I said I’m hungry! Where are mom and dad?”

Suho ignores him and heads straight to his younger brother’s room. In the closet, hidden behind the clothes swinging neatly from plastic hangers, is a backpack with a few outfits and an unopened toothbrush. He shoves the backpack into Kai’s arms. “Put on your shoes,” he orders. “We’re leaving in less than five minutes.”

Kai follows Suho down the hall. “What’s going on?” he demands. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going to visit Uncle Andy,” Suho replies, fighting to sound calm. “Now go put on your shoes. Your sneakers, not the ones for school.” He turns into his own bedroom and drops to his knees. Under the bed, he finds what he’s looking for: a duffle bag with spare clothes and a wad of cash hidden in one of the compartments.

Suho stands up and sees Kai standing in his doorway, still shoe-less and the backpack clutched loosely in his hands.

“Why are we going to visit Uncle Andy? It’s a Wednesday. We have school tomorrow.”

“I’ll explain on the way but we need to leave NOW.” He grabs Kai by the upper arm and drags him through the hall.

Kai yelps and tries to twist free but at twelve years old, he’s not a match for his older brother. “Let go of me, you monkey! You…you big, smelly – ”

Suho pulls hard and spins so that his younger brother’s back slams hard into his chest. He presses a hand over Kai’s mouth and hisses, “Listen very carefully.”

Kai shrieks against his palm and squirms.

Suho tightens his grip. “We don’t know where mom and dad are which means big trouble. We need to leave because people will be trying to find us too and I don’t know what they’re going to do if that happens.”

He senses the resistance drain out of Kai. Trembling and quiet whimpers replace his defiant behavior.

“I’m sorry,” Suho whispers, stomach turning with guilt, and relaxes his hold the slightest bit. “I didn’t want to scare you. I promise that you’ll be safe. I’m going to take care of us. But I need you to listen to me and do as I say. Can you do that for me? Please?”

Kai nods.

“Okay, good.” Suho releases him. “We’ll have to travel light but pack anything else essential. I have to do one more thing.”

He watches Kai sprint towards the kitchen before returning his attention to the task at hand. His heart thunders wildly as he marches towards the master bedroom their parents share. He pauses in the doorway and looks around before stepping over the threshold.  

He’s only fourteen years old, too young for all of this. But Kai is even younger and needs him now so he resists the urge to fling himself onto the worn comforter covering his parents’ bed.

As his mother had instructed, he opens the top left drawer of the antique dresser and pries off the back to reveal a hidden compartment. He reaches inside and pulls out a piece of paper folded into fourths. The paper is old, the edges dark with dirt and age. Suho puts it in his pocket, grabs the duffel bag, and makes his way to the kitchen.

Kai is tying the laces of his worn-in sneakers, the backpack slung over his shoulder. He looks remarkably calm for a boy who had just been informed that his parents are missing and themselves need to flee.

“We’re going out the side door,” says Suho, slipping on his own shoes. “Are you ready?”

Kai looks around the kitchen one last time. “Are we coming back?”

Suho wants to lie and tell him that they would be back soon, to their old house and old lives. But Kai is too smart to believe that and hates when people lie to him. “No,” Suho answers. "We won't be back."

*

It’s midnight by the time Kai, who had been obedient since they left their home, starts to fuss. “I’m still hungry,” he complains.

Suho realizes neither of them has eaten in twelve hours and knows that Kai becomes exceptionally cranky when starved so he looks around the bus terminal. Even for a suburban station, it’s quite small. Most of the shops have closed up for the night except for a tiny convenience store. While it’s not real food, they probably sell something to tide them over

He gestures toward the store. Kai doesn’t disagree and shrugs. 

“I’m tired and I want to sit down. Will you get something for both of us?” Kai asks while creeping towards an empty bench.

Suho wants to remind him that they’ve been sitting for hours on a bus. But seeing the way his brother slouches with fatigue, he lets it go and nods. “Don’t go anywhere,” he instructs before heading to the convenience store.

The cashier is an elderly man who looks up when Suho enters. He makes no attempt to hide his scrutinizing gaze. “You kids are out pretty late for a school night,” he comments.

“We’re on our way back from our supplemental lessons in the city,” Suho deceives with an easy smile. He picks up a few pre-packaged sandwiches from the deli display and sets them on the counter.

The cashier scans the barcode. “That will be 6,000 won young man,” he says, putting the food into a plastic bag.

Suho hands him the money, tries not to marvel at how much cheaper things are outside of the city, and takes his change. He thanks the cashier and peeks into the bag as he walks out, feeling hungry for the first time in hours. Eager to show his purchases, he looks up.

And Suho thinks he must be imagining the empty bench because Kai couldn’t have disappeared. His brain is just playing tricks on him because of the stress and hunger and lack of sleep. But no matter how many times he blinks, the bench remains unoccupied.

Panic steals his voice and he can’t even call out his brother’s name as he looks around the fairly empty station. Besides the young woman working behind the ticket counter and a few middle aged men loitering near the entrance, they have the place to themselves.

Just before he starts to recovers his ability to shout, he sees a familiar mop of hair round the corner from the restrooms. A relief so strong that it borders on fury rushes through his system.

“I’m sorry,” Kai says immediately. He holds up his hands which are still wet. “Please, Suho, I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold it any longer.”

Suho wants to scream, grab him by the shoulders, shake him, and ask what the hell he was thinking. But he sees the way Kai clamps his teeth into his trembling bottom lip. Some children cry in order to elicit sympathy but his brother isn’t capable of such manipulative behavior. So he takes his anger and crams it down as far as it will go.

“Come on,” he says and sets the bag on their bench. He pulls out a sandwich, turkey with cheddar cheese, and holds it out.

Kai wipes the excess water on his pants. “Thanks,” he murmurs. He quickly peels the cellophane and takes a bite. “Did you get anything to drink?” he asks through a mouthful of bread and turkey.

Suho pauses. No, he hadn’t. He sighs and puts his own meal on hold. “Come on,” he says and pulls Kai toward the convenience store. He refuses to let his little brother out of his sight again.

The cashier looks surprised as they enter. “Were the sandwiches not to your liking?” he asks.

“The sandwiches were fine. We’re just a little thirsty.” Suho takes two soft drinks and a few water bottles for the road. He tries not to knock anything over as he sets his armful of refreshments on the counter.

Kai slinks up next to him and slides something toward the drinks. Suho glances down and sees the candy bar. Too tired, too hungry, and too thirsty to argue, he simply pays for it all.

He takes the plastic bag with their drinks and hands the candy bar to Kai who had finished his sandwich and is ready for dessert. They step out of the store and Suho immediately notices the sudden increase of bus terminal patrons.

Kai, oblivious to any change, unwraps his candy bar. “You want half?” he asks Suho.   

Something isn’t right. No bus had pulled up while they were in the store so they couldn’t be new arrivals. And in a town this size, everybody knows that after 10 pm, the buses only run once an hour until 3 in the morning, the regular schedule not to start again until 5 AM. There is no reason for this many people to be in the station at 15 minutes past midnight.

“Come on,” he mutters, putting a hand on Kai’s shoulder, and pushes him forward. “Let’s go.”

“But we just got here.” Kai points at the sandwich on the bench. “What about your food?”

“Not hungry.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the man by the back exit and the one under the posted bus schedule follow them. The young man pretending to check the time on his phone and the woman with him also begin to move.

Kai remains unaware of their situation. “Is someone coming to pick us up?”

They’re almost to the main doors. Suho wants to melt with relief –

A policeman appears in their path. He puffs out his chest and looks down at them. “Do your parents know that you’re out this late?” he asks.

Suho opens his mouth to explain.

“Officer, they’re with us.”

He whips his head around to see who had spoken. His eyes dart back and forth between the man with the phone and the man in a rumpled suit. Altogether, seven people form a semi-circle around Suho and Kai, blocking any way to escape except through the policeman.

The woman steps forward and flashes a badge. Military Intelligence Branch. Sergeant Shoo. 

“Suho, what’s going on?” Kai whispers. “Who are these people?” He shrinks and tucks himself into his brother’s side.

“Just stay cool,” Suho mumbles out of the corner of his mouth.

“These young men possess information that is vital to national security and we need to bring them in for questioning,” she says, voice compassionate as an automated machine. “We appreciate your cooperation.” She looks at them, face absolutely unreadable. “Boys, please come with us.”

“You must be mistaken,” says Suho, composing a look of confusion. “We don’t know anything…about anything.”

Sergeant Shoo stares at him for a second before turning and nodding curtly at the others.   

One of the men – the one in a green tracksuit – steps forward and makes a grab for Kai.

Suho, more out of instinct than anything else, pushes the man away by hitting him in the face with a closed fist. “Don’t you touch him,” he warns.

The man reels back in surprise. Drops of blood stain the green jacket. He curses and pinches the bridge of his nose. He turns to his colleagues. “Take care of the younger one first.”

Kai gasps and wraps his arms around Suho’s waist but against so many, they easily tear him away. “Let go! Let go of me! Get off me!” he shouts, kicking his feet. 

Suho desperately lunges forward but Sergeant Shoo steps in front of him and he hesitates long enough for her to dig her fingers into the soft flesh of his neck, hitting a nerve. He cries out while his knees collapse beneath him. 

“You’re just a couple of kids and we don’t want to hurt you but we won’t have a choice if you make things difficult,” she says.

“Please.” Suho sees the convenience store owner quickly pull down the gate over the entrance and the ticket girl had disappeared. “Please. We really don’t know anything.”

“Then come with us,” the man he had just punched speaks up.  He doesn’t look as menacing as the others, despite the smear of blood under his nose. “Nobody is going to hurt you or your brother.”

Suho looks past him, to Kai who hasn’t given up his struggle against those holding him back. His face is pink from exertion and fringe sticks to his forehead with sweat. Seven soldiers against two boys.

Both of them won't be able to get away. Suho knows this. It tears him apart from the inside-out but he knows so he gives up. It wouldn't be worth escaping on his own.

“Okay,” he says, choking on the resignation in his voice. He looks up. “Okay.”

*

Three days.

That’s how long Suho has been wearing the beige jumpsuit which is a size too large and lace-less, slip-on shoes.

For three days, Suho has been sitting on his tiny bed, caged in by iron bars, while Sergeant Shoo’s parting words play over and over again in his head.

“Your parents died in car accident. That’s why they never called with the ‘clear’ signal which we know about. Somebody will come to sort you out.”

It almost sinks in.

Three days pass and Suho still has no idea what happened to Kai, if he is in the same base or if he had been whisked to another site.

The large steal door to the holding area opens, interrupting his thoughts, and a man, obviously not a soldier from the way he is dressed, enters. He has a pass of some kind clipped to his shirt pocket.

Suho stands up slowly. He presumes the man is here to see him since the cells on either side of his remain unoccupied. Perhaps he is a lawyer sent to inform Suho of his charges which no doubt include treason and conspiracy.

The man approaches and Suho glances at the badge. He’s not a lawyer.  

Guest Pass: Kangta from the Hera Institute.

He stops just a few feet from the iron rods separating them. “Hello, Suho. My name is Kangta. I’m from the Hera Institute,” he says, not revealing anything the teenager didn’t already know. “Have you heard of us?” 

“Yes,” Suho says quietly, voice rusty from disuse.

“Good.” Kangta gives him a solemn nod. “I’d like to speak to you about Artemis. I’m not sure if you’re aware but we have a specially designed program for boys and girls around your age.”

Suho knows about Artemis. Everybody knows about it.

For the brightest and most capable young people.

Extremely competitive.

The Hera Institute’s brainwashing, funnel program into its own sanctimonious bull.  

He’s seen the pamphlets.

“Where is my brother?” he asks instead of responding, although he’s certain that non-military personnel wouldn’t know.

To his surprise, Kangta answers, “Kai is currently at a state-funded orphanage. He’s been there for the past two days.”

The intensity of the relief Suho feels forces him to sit back down. He nods and nods again, despite the awareness that government orphanages lack the adequate funding and staff to function effectively. At least Kai is not in a cell, absolutely alone for 22 hours of the day.

“I’m a recruitment specialist with the Institute,” Kangta continues. “And we believe that you would be a good fit for the program.”

Suho raises an eyebrow. “Me?” He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

“But you would,” Kangta insists gently, as if the reason for Suho’s doubts are a matter of confidence, not contempt for the program and Institute itself. “Your grades are excellent, you’re obviously clever…your parents trained you well. It would be a shame to let that kind of talent rot away in a reformation camp.”

Suho detects the veiled threat. “Tell me,” he says, hiding the terror churning in his stomach. “How does a supposedly private company like the Hera Institute have the ability to overturn a prison sentence?”

Kangta looks at him with a vague smile before changing the subject. “If you agree to join the program, you will become a ward of the Institute. Your brother will be taken out of the orphanage and adopted into a loving, middle-class family. We’ll even let you meet the prospective parents to help ease your mind.”

The death of his parents hits him like an injection of anesthesia. The agony and sorrow so acute that he almost feels normal except for the shortness of breath and cloudy vision. He tries to stand up but fails and remains seated on his bed.

His mother: clever, strong-willed, and beautiful. He frantically tries to remember her last words to him but all that comes to mind is her instruction to make sure he calls in for the ‘clear.’

They had gotten home late the night before they died, coming back from the gallery opening of one of his father’s former students. He recalls his father’s kind eyes watching him from the hallway as his mother whispered the reminder in his ear.

He had shrugged her off, irritated that they thought he would forget. Why did he do that? He wants to pretend that he had simply accepted their concern and kissed her goodnight.  

“What happens if I refuse?” Suho asks, clinging to a modicum of defiance.

Kangta leans forward as if letting him in on some confidential information. “We can just as easily claim that we found the paper with the list of names in your brother’s belongings. They might go easy on him because of his age but no doubt he’ll have a hard life as an ex-con when he gets out.”

Suho searches the other man’s face for a hint, a twitch, any indication that they wouldn’t dare frame a completely innocent child of such a serious crime. His blood turns cold as he finds nothing but apathy.

“What do you say?” Kangta asks.

“Do I really have a choice?” Suho snaps petulantly.

Something resembling bewilderment flickers across the man’s face.  “No, I suppose not.”

*

Suho frowns: a massively downplayed reaction to the photos found leaning against his door this morning.

The first photo is innocent enough. Nothing incriminating about sleeping on his own couch while a friend takes off his shoes.

Except the other man in the photos is not a friend. He is the cab driver who he paid to get him home from the bar last week.

His head spins as he tries to piece together what happened that night. He remembers that the marketing department went out to celebrate the completion of their first Chinese CF.

He went to the bar to order a drink…a whisky and Coke, he believes…and there was a pretty girl.

Yes, he remembers the girl sitting by herself with a glass of white wine. Hopped up on the success of their shooting, he started a conversation with her. He introduced himself as Joonmyeon. She said her name was Hyoyeon. He invited her to come drink with them at their table.

The next fragment of memory that he can recall with any confidence is the bit where his co-workers drag him outside and put him into a cab.

He doesn’t understand how he became so drunk after only two beers. While his drinking abilities are not outstanding, neither is he a lightweight. 

The cab driver, a crotchety old man, drove a little over a block before a car rammed into his back end. Suho remembers flying forward and smacking his face against the driver-side’s headrest.

The old man cursed and got out of the car. He began yelling at the perpetrators, his voice scratchy and gruff from years of smoking.

Suho felt dizzy and awkwardly d the door. His fingers found the plastic handle and when he pulled, he tumbled onto the asphalt.

“AND YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST NOT KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD WHILE DRIVING. THEY SHOULD TAKE YOUR LICENSE AWAY – “

“OH PLEASE, LIKE YOU’RE NOT WATCHING YOUR LITTLE TV AS YOU DRIVE. HOW DARE YOU – ”   

Suho managed to stand up despite the spinning. He put a hand on the roof of the cab to steady himself. He looked around; trying to remember which direction was home.

Another cab slowed and pulled over next to the scene of the collision. The passenger window squealed as it rolled down and a friendly voice asked, “Need a ride?”

Suho wondered if he should stay, if the cab driver would require him to make a statement of some kind. But he needed to drink some water and he needed to pee and he needed to sleep. So he wrenched open the door and staggered into the back seat, mumbling his address.

He must have fallen asleep in the cab because he jolted awake as they passed over a speed bump to the entrance of his apartment complex.

He slowly closed his eyes and when they opened, he was complete deadweight, propped up by a stranger, and waiting for an elevator. 

“Almost there,” he said and Suho recognized his voice as the cab driver.

Under the florescent light, Suho got his first proper look at the young man who scooped him up from the side of the road. Handsome in the boy-next-door kind of way with a square jaw, and thick, friendly eyebrows. The faint look of amusement he wore suited his features.

Too drowsy to hold up his head, he let it fall forward and closed his eyes again. He doesn’t remember the elevator ride or punching in the code to get in his apartment but it must have happened because when he opened his eyes, he was staring at the ceiling of his living room while soft kisses tingled on his throat.

Suho blames the alcohol for his delayed reaction because by the time he realized what was happening, his shirt had been pulled off, the leather of the couch hot against his skin, and belt unhooked, unfamiliar fingers playing with the waistband of his boxers. “S-stop,” he stammered and feebly pushed away the figure on top of him.

He was terrified to realize how difficult the simple action felt to perform.

The cab driver loomed above him, legs on either side of Suho’s lap, effectively trapping him. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice filled with what sounded like genuine concern.

“Yes-no-I just…” He felt sick but not the normal kind of drunk sick. He felt feverish and weak. “…I need water. Please.”

The cab driver rolled back onto his heels and hopped off the couch. “Hold on. I’ll be right back.”

But Suho didn’t ‘hold on.’ As soon as he heard the driver rummaging around his kitchen, he sat up and carefully placed his feet on the floor which suddenly felt slanted. He looked around for his shirt and saw it had been tossed across the living room, beyond his ability to retrieve it.

The cab driver came back with a glass of cloudy tap water.

Suho flinched as the seat next to him dipped with the weight of his unwanted guest. He was entirely too aware that in his condition, he couldn’t fight off a kitten, much less a grown man. Taking the glass, he tried to bring it to his mouth but his hands shook violently, splashing water over the rim.

“Here.” The cab driver gently pulled the cup away and held it steady to Suho’s lips. “Go on.”

Suho gulped the water down, feeling grateful until he remembered that just a few minutes ago, this stranger had his hands down the front of pants. He turned his head, mid-drink, and coughed. A quiet anger rose inside of him but he didn’t make a scene, not wanting to provoke the driver.

“Um, how much…” he started. A sudden onset of vertigo severed his train of thought. His eyes slid out of focus before closing. He desperately clung to consciousness but even the voices in his head fell silent.

He woke up the next morning, laid across his couch with his shirt draped over his chest like a tiny blanket. He tried to summon the events of the previous night and upon remembering the cab driver and his wandering hands, bolted upright.

“,” he whispered and patted his private parts. Nothing felt out of the ordinary although considering how drunk he was, it brought him little comfort.

Suho put his head in his hands and tried to swallow but his tongue latched on to the roof of his mouth from the lack of moisture. His stomach clenched and he ran to the bathroom. He immediately threw up into the toilet.

He slid to the floor, temples throbbing and vowing never to drink again.

Suho hadn’t completely forgotten about the cab driver. Over the next week, when he least expected it, the sensation of his stubble against Suho’s cheek resurfaced and he shuddered. His co-workers would ask if he was cold. But mostly, Suho lived his life as normal.

Until he found the pictures in a manila envelope outside his door.

The pictures aren’t exactly ographic. In fact, without context they seem downright romantic. Suho concludes that after he passed out for the final time, the cab driver left without trying anything further.

But that doesn't make them any less compromising. In the last picture of the series, Suho’s hand is resting on the driver’s lower back in what appears to be a reciprocal manner although he has no memory of doing such a thing. Joonmyeon’s father would disown him if the pictures become public.

He hears the beeps of the passcode being punched in. He hastily shoves the pictures beneath the couch cushions as the door opens.

“Hey,” Seohyun says as she slips off her shoes.

“Hi,” Suho replies and stands up. He greets her with a kiss. “How was the store?”

“It was fine. I got a bunch of stuff for our camping trip. I’m having it delivered here. I hope you don’t mind.” She drops her purse on the couch and makes to sit down but Suho grabs her by the waist and pulls her close. “What are you doing?” she asks, slightly alarmed.

“Nothing,” he answers and runs his fingers through her long, soft hair. Over her shoulder, he sees a tiny corner of the envelope sticking out from under the cushion. “I haven’t seen you since yesterday. I missed you.”

She returns the embrace, squeezing him lightly. “Missed you too.” She tries to pull away but he holds firm.

Suho inhales the scent of her flowery perfume and feels a surge of affection.

She’s perfect.

 At least, perfect for the Joonmyeon that he has created. But even Suho has to admit that she’s easy to love: beautiful, smart, kind. Perhaps a little dull but not unbearably so.

He kisses her. Seohyun’s skin is soft and smooth against his.

“Joonmyeon,” she whisper as he moves his lips to . “It’s one in the afternoon.”

“It’s a Saturday,” he murmurs back. “But we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He turns to step away.

Seohyun weaves her fingers together behind his neck to keep him in place. “I never said that. I’m just saying, we have to meet my parents in an hour. So if you want to me, you better me quick.”

Maybe not so dull.

She squeals as he picks her up and carries her to the bedroom.

He makes a mental note to burn the pictures as soon as possible. 

*

Suho doesn't burn the pictures right away. After meeting Seohyun's parents for a late lunch and coming back to his apartment alone, he examines the photos and notices that they were all taken from the same vantage point: somewhere from inside the room and angled downward. 

He stands in the middle of his apartment and faces the space opposite the couch. He has a TV and low-rise TV stand. A clock above the TV. And next to the television, a tall bookshelf. Next to the bookshelf is an ornate mirror hanging from the wall.

Suho drags a chair to the front of the bookshelf and carefully steps up on the seat. He finds two things: an incredible amount of dust and a small piece of paper folded in half. Once safely back on the floor, he opens it with shaking hands. 

See you soon. -C

He crumples the note and throws it into the burn pile

A/N: Thanks for reading. I think its pretty obvious who the cab driver is but just in case you couldn't figure it out...you'll have to wait a few more chapters.

Who's next: Tao.