Mark Tuan had yet to believe what the hell he was seeing.

As long as he has worked as a hitman under his father’s company, he wouldn’t ever see a decent looking basement in the houses of his past victims; but the Wang’s had really changed his perspective.

It looked more like a dance room than anything, a small recording booth built in on the left side and the mirrors on the other. The lights from above were shining perfectly on the fresh and clean wooden dance floor, a scratch not even seen with the Tuan’s perfect eyesight, and that’s saying a lot. He was very impressed by the way everything looked pristine, but was kind of disappointed thinking that this part of the house may have never been touched or looked at for months before those two stepped came in.

“Nice right? My father finally had let me be able to start using this room.” Jackson said with satisfaction obviously in his voice. “I haven’t been able to use it much, however, since I’m always going to competitions and having to do homework.”

Mark looked at him shocked. “You do your homework?”

The boy looked over at him with a small smile. “Yeah,” he replied, “It’s the only way for me to be able to do much of anything when it comes to my dad. He even takes away some of my opportunities if I forget to turn something in on time. Can’t risk it nowadays...”

The eldest nodded with some sort of understanding. His father would be the exact same way if his eldest son didn’t get the target right with the weaponry, or failed to study more about the next target before starting the mission.

Completely different standards, yes, but still compatible.

“So, what dance do you think we should do?” he asked, wanting to change the subject for him. Jackson must’ve saw the little gateway, for he answered with, “A simple waltz can show a few parts moving, right?” I don’t show off too much of my dancing skills to non-dancers.”

Tuan smiled and chuckled at the boy’s obvious ego, which seemed to grow more as he said, “I even have the perfect CD to play while we dance! I just need to go through a cabinet in my room, so you can just stay here.” With that, Jackson left Mark alone in the dancing room.
 

As the echo of his footsteps followed him around, Mark began to explore more of the room, more specifically the recording booth. The large window in the front seemed crystal clear, only specks of dust showing here and there on the glass. Inside the booth, the three walls were painted a perfect duke blue color, most likely to give a relaxing feel for the person inside, and for letting the silver mic and music stand pop out from the boring little box. Though it was all a marvelous sight, the main item that stuck out to the little agent was a stack of papers on the stand, most likely belonging to the childish performer.

Now, the number one rule (according to his father) was “Let curiosity get the best of you; learn more about who or what you’re dealing with before you start to plan anything.” And listening to this, Mark began to slowly walk towards the door, listening closely to any footsteps from above. He examined the silver door handle, making sure that it was, of course, unlocked, and opened it slightly when he was sure.

The temperature was strange, to say the least, as he went from the cool A/C’d area to a boiling volcano in a box. He couldn't believe that there wasn't at least a fan in the small room, but thought twice when he remembered how small the place exactly was. The papers caught his eye again, this time much closer, which helpfully got him back on track. Tuan stepped up to the music stand and picked up the stack with both hands, to make sure he didn't lose one in the process.

Some seemed to be torn straight out of a composition book, with one side of the stack looking uneven with bits of paper either added or missing, and the corners on the other side well-rounded. However, as Mark flipped through the many pages, he came to see that most of them were that of music sheets. The notes on the staff looked precise, meaning Jackson was taking his time on this piece, as well as the words written below; they were written in Romaja and of course English.

Hmm...I wonder what this would sound like…

Mark quickly looked out the doorway, towards the basements stairway, making sure to see if Jackson’s shadow would pop out; he saw nothing. With a sigh of relief, he closed the door once more and placed the papers back in their proper position on the stand. The headphones that once rested on the mic were quickly snatched off it, and placed on his fluffy red hair, all with no sound or hesitation. Though he didn't ever think he could be good in singing, never meant that he couldn't goof off with it.

The first page of the song was visible to his eyes, which were filled with a sort of excitement, and his lips were placed inches away from the hanging microphone. Another sigh escaped his small lips, his eyes beginning to close as the words began to flood out.

‘Nae eorin sijeore kkumeul kiwoudeon

eorin dognsime sesang jeonbuin naui jangeun noriteo

No one could possibly tell, but he was completely relaxed at this point, being able to enjoy himself like this.

nalgeun sajin sok namanui sesang

naega ttwinoldeon naega kkumkkudeon chuckeok sogui wonderland

Each word, each syllable, each breathe he took seemed natural, giving him a sense of normality which he hadn't experienced in who knows how long.

ije eoreuni doen naege nega naui kkumi dwaejullae

Nothing was more important than the words written before him, and nothing could ever take this essence of his away.

ijen-’

“Tuan?”

He nearly gasped in surprise, looking in the window to see an equally shocked Jackson Wang, a CD case nearly slipping out of his hand. They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, though it was only for a few minutes, until Wang spoke up.

“How the holy are you able to sound like that?”

He was only answered by the uncharacteristically appalled expression on his hyung’s face. As funny as a sight it was, the miracle voice that he heard only moments before was still getting to him. With still no reply, went up and knocked on the glass, though was careful and tried not the bang it with full force.

“Hyung?” he asked, “You alive in there?”

Thankfully yet not thankfully, it brought Tuan out of his trance, for seconds later he got out of the booth with the headphones still on of course, and started to spazz out with many ‘sorry’s and ‘next time warn someone!’s. Jackson couldn’t help but laugh from the other’s reaction, to the point where he fell to his knees with tears gleaming in his joyous eyes.

Mark huffed and crossed his arms, glaring daggers at the kneeling son of a . “It’s not funny! You scared the living out of me, you ignorant rich boy! There’s such a thing as knocking, or maybe warning someone you’re coming down instead of just popping out like Bloody Mary!” As much as he wished that the boy heard those words, the booming laughter only proved him wrong. The redhead huffed once more and leaned against the doorway, waiting for him partner to stop laughing like a hyena so they could get the day over with.

It took several minutes of waiting, but Wang finally came back to his senses as he was shakily getting on his feet, while wiping a fresh tear away. No words could express how stupid Mark thought the boy was, mainly because someone shouldn't laugh for that large amount of time about something not the least bit hilarious.

Jackson looked at him, a -eating grin on his face, and asked teasingly, "Would you like to start dancing, mister popstar?"

He pursed his lips, a small blush creeping up his face from the obvious embarrassment, but nonetheless nodded in response. Wang chuckled in response and picked up the neglected case.

"This baby has the greatest classic waltz songs!...Well, according to the back of the case it does.” he adds, flipping the CD cover over for proof.

Mark hummed. "Which waltz classic should we exactly do, Wang? You are the dancing master, as you've stated clearly every day." This fact was strangely proven true; every day after Mr. Park started his class, Jackson would burst through the door and yell for everyone to hear, "The Dancing Master is here!!" And Park would proceed with saying, "Do I need to send you to detention this early in the morning? Again?"

Said Wang stuck his tongue out as he headed to the cd player, opening the case in the process.

“Well,” he began, “The classic waltz could be a good place to start, don't you think? I want to prove my title in the most classiest way possible."

Mark rolled his eyes and scoffed, which was not a surprising reaction. Wang didn't much think of what Mark was truly capable of on the dancefloor; then again, he also didn't know that Mark would (hopefully soon) be the death of him. With this in mind, Mark started to grin when his partner turned away, most likely slipping the CD into the mouth of the device.

The music began to play in the cool still air, the rhythm catching a certain Tuan by surprise. Many instruments were flowing smoothly from the unseen orchestra, most of them Mark couldn’t surprisingly recognize, as well as the man's strong tone of voice. He unconsciously began to sway with the music, feeling dreary and relaxed within the open space.

Seeing this, Jackson began to blush at how cute his hyung seemed to be with that soft smile on his ever glowing face, and the way his usually serious eyes became tired and at ease. The boy shook his head, as if that would be able to get the warmth off his face, and cautiously yet valiantly stepped towards him.

“Hyung?” he asked quietly. Mark looked straight at him, a slight glint of annoyance in his deep brown pools. Jackson cleared his throat, nervousness for some reason overwhelming him.

Why am I so nervous? We obviously need to dance for the grade, but...I like seeing him like this...

He sighed, knowing the choice he would have to make, and asked,"Would you like to, uhm...begin practice?" He stretched out his slightly shaking hand towards Tuan, praying in his head that he would stop acting afraid. Surprisingly, probably due to the fact that the music was making him calm, Mark took the younger one's hand and willingly went into the dancing position.

Jackson took a deep breath and placed his free hand around the other's waist, which was when he felt sweaty and self conscious. This wasn't supposed to be how it would work in his mischievous little mind, not at all. In his plan, Mark should be the one to acting shy and weak, looking red as a rose (or maybe his lips, as Wang would put it); but it was all reversed.

As they were slowly beginning to dance, Jackson taking the lead, the hypnotizing orchestra entranced them both into the simple yet elegant dance.

Hell, they weren't even paying attention to their moves anymore; they just watched each other with no words leaving their lips. It was as if everything of importance just, well, stopped being important to them. It was just a relaxing moment, and nothing would seem to have the ability to change it.

Until Jackson had to ruin the heart melting moment like a complete ing moron.

The man with 'major dance skills' didn't realize his shoes weren't tied, which led him to trip on one of the long laces.

"Ah -!"

He began to feel himself fall backwards, mainly by his fingertips slipping out from Mark's hand. He braced himself for the harsh impact, but a mysterious force stopped it from coming. Jackson was too scared to open his eyes at first, not wanting to look at his hyung out of embarrassment, but he couldn't help but take a quick little peek.

The serious face of the young Mark Tuan was staring at him, the brown eyes showing concern, yet looked as if he was disturbed from his mind's nap. His flawless face, hidden with the shadows by the lighting, showed a pink sort of glow radiating from it, which looked very natural for his visage. However, the most gratifying thing for the little boy were the lips; the lips that were only just a few inches away from his own.

Jackson, he thought to himself, don't you dare say anything stupid that'll ruin your chance to get those pretty lips of his-

"Now do you see how much I've fallin' for ya, good-looking?"

Dammit.

Jackson finally felt his back hit the ground, a small hiss leaving between his teeth. He sat up and rubbed his back, and as he was about to yell at Mark, he was already leaving the room.

"Hey!" Wang cried, "What was that for?!"

No words answered him, since this was Mark he was talking to, but he did get some sort of reply.

And it wasn't a very nice one either.

"That's not a very nice finger to use, Tuan!"

_______xOperation Kill This Love_______

(Note: BOOYAAAAAAAAAA NEW CHAPTER OUT MOFOS!! OH YAH!! Sorry if this seems a bit like a weird chapter, I've been getting too many ideas for this thing that it makes me malfunction and yeah...(I've been jamming to Error by VIXX and FNAF's Song by The Living Tombstone, hence why I made myself sound robotic.)

But anyways, here you have it!! I want to also thank you for 96 subscribers on this story so far, it's really awesome how many people actually look forward to what I have in store for y'all! Now, I have to start working on Chapter 3 of Until Then... Sooo, as always, talk to you later my lovely pyschopaths~