Ah, yes. A hot drink, a good book, and an empty apartment. The perfect formula for a perfect night. My younger brother would be staying the night at his best friend's, leaving me home alone to rest and relax after a stressful week at the office. 
    I stretched my legs out on the couch, tossed a blanket over them, and pressed the button for the sound system. Soothing music poured out from the ceiling and I smiled slightly, opening my book to the first page and taking a careful sip of hot coffee. The mocha was the ideal after-dinner snack, and my insides warmed despite the cold air pressing in on the windows. I could see soft snowflakes drifting outside, and I was grateful for the thick blanket covering me. 
    I slowly melted into my own bubble, only looking over towards the front door when I heard a terrible racket from the hallway. It sounded like someone was running up the flight of stairs to the apartments, and I rolled my eyes at their carelessness. 
    I raised the cup to my lips, taking another sip just as loud banging sounded on my door. 
    "Hey! Hey, open the door! Hey! Help!" 
    The shouting surprised me so much my hand jerked, sending hot coffee all over my book and the blanket. I swore, setting the cup down and folding the blanket carefully. Dropping it on the floor, I strode quickly to the door.
    "Help! Come on, open up!" The shouting continued, and I slid the deadbolt back with a flick of my wrist. I opened the door a few inches, peering out with a practiced glare.
    "Who are you?" I asked coldly, scanning the unfamiliar man standing on my doorstep. He broke into an exhausted grin and brushed past me, walking into my apartment quickly. 
    "Shut the door, mate." he panted, walking through the entryway and over to the couch. I looked distastefully at the tracks of mud and melting snow he was leaving all over my wood floors, grimacing when he flopped down on my white couch. 
    "Who the hell are you?" I growled, reaching out to grab an umbrella from the stand next to the door. 
    "For crying out loud, shut the damn door." he said, a small smile tracing his lips even as he ran his hands through his dripping wet hair. 
    "Get out of my apartment." I said firmly, still brandishing the umbrella. I could hear more people clattering up the stairs, and he waved his hand dismissively.
    "I'll just stay for tonight. Please close the door." he said. He shifted slightly on the couch and grimaced, making me swing the door shut reluctantly. 
    "Who are you?" I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest. He sighed heavily, lying down on his back to slowly toe off his black mud-soaked boots. They hit the decorative carpet with a thud and a splatter, and I clenched my fists. 
    "Name's Hakyeon." he said, one forearm pressed tightly to his side. My door shuddered suddenly under a few heavy blows, and I turned towards it with wide eyes. 
    "Hakyeon! You bastard, I know you're in there! I'll kill you, you hear me?! I'll kill you!" A gruff voice screamed, my door shaking on its hinges. 
    "!" Hakyeon yelped, jumping to his feet. He shoved his boots under the couch and jogged towards the hallway that led to the bedrooms. 
    "Hey, where are you going?" I hissed, watching my door shake and shudder, fine cracks spreading over the splintering wood. 
    "I'm not here!" Hakyeon stage-whispered back, disappearing behind the door to the bathroom and closing the lock with a firm snap. 
    I stared in shock between the closed bathroom door and my front door, then decided to do something before my door got broken for real. 
    I slid back the deadbolt, yanking open the door and finding myself glaring at a muscular man on the other side. I slouched against the doorway, making sure my body filled the small space so he couldn't brush past me. 
    "Move." he ordered gruffly. He was slightly smaller than me and there was another man of equal size of behind him, busy flipping a switchblade between his fingers. 
    "I think you have the wrong apartment." I dropped my voice, matching his rough drawl evenly. My eyes were narrowed, waiting for his next move. 
    He gave a mirthless chuckle, bracing his hands on his hips before dipping one hand to lift the hem of his shirt. A shiny gun was tucked in the hem of his jeans, gleaming lethally back at me. 
    Oh, hell no. There's no way I'm getting shot for his sorry .
    "I think you should move." he suggested, tickling the gun with light fingertips. I paused for several seconds, stepping back and slamming the door shut. 
    I slammed the deadbolt in place, hitting the ground when shots rang out. Several bullet holes appeared in my door and I crawled into the kitchen area, scrabbling around in the drawers for a knife. 
    The door exploded inwards and I hefted the knife in my hand, taking cover behind the island in the middle of the kitchen. The man with the gun stepped forward into the apartment and I brought my arm back, whipping it forward to send the knife flying. 
    It sunk deeply into his shoulder and he fell with a strangled yell, the gun popping twice when his finger squeezed the trigger reflexively. I grabbed another knife from the magnetic rack on the wall, looking up when his partner came charging around the island, switchblade swinging. 
    He stabbed down towards my head and I met his blade with my own, the metal sliding together in a deadly kiss before locking at the hilts. I kicked him back, freeing my blade before backing up to propel myself off the cabinets. 
    I leapt towards him, raising my fist and using the hand not holding the knife to drill into his temple. I landed easily and he fell back, knocked out cold. I panted, looking down at him and adjusting my grip on the knife. 
    I turned to set the knife down and froze when the tell-tale sound of gun cocking mingled with the cold caress of metal on the back of my neck. 
    Holy . I'm going to die here and Ravi is going to come home and find me dead. My little brother is going to find me dead. I'm going to die for this .
    "Any last words?" he grunted, pressing more firmly into my neck. I held my breath, my eyes squeezed closed, and I shook my head slowly. 
    Bang!
    I flinched at the loud noise, freezing in place as the gun left my neck. I was shaking violently, leaning against the countertop with my heartbeat thundering into my ears.   
    "Damn, I always wanted to do that!" I turned at the satisfied voice behind me, my eyes widening when I saw Hakyeon standing behind me with a large frying pan in his hand. 
    "Hakyeon?" I mumbled. 
    "I mean seriously, 'any last words'? How cliche is that?" Hakyeon rambled on, mocking the unconscious man lying under him. He prodded the man with the frying pan, shaking his head.
    "You are the worst gangster. Ever." Hakyeon scolded, poking the man twice more. I cleared my throat, swallowing once nervously, before bending down to look at the man closely. 
    "Now what do we do with them?" I asked. Hakyeon looked up with a devilish smile, setting the frying pan down. 
    "Throw them out the window." Hakyeon said. He bent down, wrapping his fist in the collar of one man's shirt and dragging him to the living room window. He slid the glass open, popped out the screen, heaved the man up, and simply flung him out the window. 
    "...What?!" I shrieked, watching Hakyeon nonchalantly hoist up the other man and toss him out the window like it was nothing. 
    "What? They're fine." Hakyeon said, walking back to me. He looked from the splinters that used to be my door to the bullets buried in my wall. 
    "Alright, you're safe now. Get out." I said, tucking my shaking hands behind my back. Hakyeon shook his head, swaying slightly. 
    "You crazy? There's a ton more of them out on the streets. I'll leave in the morning." Hakyeon said, strolling towards the kitchen. 
    "This is not your house! I don't even know you!" I protested, watching with wide eyes as he opened the refrigerator door and starting rooting around inside. 
    "Good point. What's your name?" Hakyeon asked, pulling out the carton of milk and unscrewing the top. 
    "Jung Taekwoon." I said, pointing to one of the cabinets. "The cups are up there."
    Hakyeon ignored me, tipping his head back and taking long gulps of milk. The light from the refrigerator played over his jawline and the strong muscles of his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing. 
    "Nah, that's too formal. I'll call you Leo." Hakyeon announced, coming up for air and dragging the back of his wrist across his mouth. 
    "Leo?" I asked skeptically, making a mental note to throw out that carton of milk. Hakyeon lifted one side of his mouth in his reckless smirk, nodding. 
    "You fought like a lion for me." Hakyeon said, taking another gulp of milk. I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms and leaning against the island. There were smears of blood on the floor which I would have to clean later and I sighed slightly.
    "Not for you." I corrected. Hakyeon chuckled softly, turning to take another swallow. 
    I felt more than saw his body tense up, and leapt forward. He crumpled back, the carton clattering out of his hand to spray across the floor. I caught him before his head hit the tile, and cradled him carefully in my arms. He panted, looking up at me and struggling to focus on my face. 
    "You have beautiful eyes, Leo." Hakyeon whispered, his own eyes rolling shut abruptly. He was as pale as the milk dribbling past his face, which was especially shocking considering how tan he had been when I first saw him. 
    "Hakyeon?" I asked aloud, shaking him carefully. He didn't respond and I stood quickly, noting his lightness distantly. He was smaller than me, although his larger, bright presence had kept me from noticing it before. 
    I jogged to the bedroom, stretching him out on my bed and checking his breathing carefully. He was deeply unconscious but breathing fine, his head tipped back against my pillows. 
    Hakyeon was one long line of black against my white sheets. His fitted black t-shirt was covered by a black leather jacket, wrapping around his torso tightly. His black jeans clung to his legs and muscled thighs, ornamented by a silver studded belt and torn at the knees. Even his socks were black, and his fingers were twined with black and silver rings. 
    "Hakyeon." I shook him again. Maybe he was just in shock. 
    I sighed, ping his jacket and carefully peeling it off his body. His shirt was sticky and I looked down at my fingers, curling my lip when they came away stained with blood. A short search in my nightstand drawers revealed a pair of scissors, and I carefully cut open the front of Hakyeon's shirt. 
    A ugly stab wound pulsed blood through a thin gauze pad just under his ribs. I rolled my eyes at his stupidity—did he really think that was going to stop the bleeding? 
    I carefully picked him up again, carrying him to the bathroom. Spreading towels on the floor, I laid him down and started hot water in the sink. Grabbing a washcloth, I wetted it and peeled off the ruined gauze.    
    Carefully using the warm water to sponge away the blood, I inspected the wound. It wasn't very deep, only puncturing Hakyeon's oblique, but it was sure bleeding. Packing the edges with gauze pads, I attempted to slow the bleeding while I pulled out a needle and thin thread. 
    Using a lighter to sterilize the needle and tying the thread perfectly, I pulled out the gauze and left it on the floor in a soggy puddle. I didn't have anything other than hydrogen peroxide to sterilize the wound, so I poured in a small amount and watched it fizz and bubble. Hakyeon stirred with a strangled moan and I rested my hand on his muscled shoulder gently, keeping him still. 
    When the wound had stopped bubbling, I poured a small amount of cold water on it to stop the bleeding, then picked up the needle. Carefully bringing the edges of the wound together, I started sealing the wound. 
    I finally sat back and looked over my handiwork, critically searching for any gaps in the stitching. I found none and stood, walking over to the bathtub. I filled it with warm water and stripped Hakyeon free of his clothes and jewelry. 
    I gripped him around the shoulder while I washed his hair, sitting on the bathroom floor and keeping him from going underwater in the tub. I remembered sitting like this before, washing my childhood dog, with a small flicker of amusement.
    When he was clean and no longer shivering I pulled him out of the tub, wrapping his body in a towel and draping him across my lap. Taking a second towel, I carefully dried his black hair, rubbing gently around his temples. There was the barest hint of a bruise on one cheek, and Hakyeon had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. 
    "Where did you come from?" I wondered out loud, trailing my fingertips across one smooth cheekbone. His jaw held the shadow of stubble and the tiny hairs were rough under my fingers. 
    Hakyeon stirred slightly under my hands and I sighed, standing up and cradling him in my arms. I walked back to the bedroom, pulling out a pair of clean underwear, pajama pants and a soft, worn t-shirt. 
    After dressing his lower half I propped him up on the bed in a sitting position, pulling out a roll of gauze. Bending forward, I pulled his arms up to rest on my shoulders while I carefully wrapped the gauze over the line of dribbling stitches. Hakyeon made a kittenish sound of protest, curling his arms tightly around my back and nuzzling groggily into my neck. 
    I did my best to ignore his breath tickling my neck and the flips my heart was doing, tying off the gauze and tugging the t-shirt down over him. I wrapped my arm around Hakyeon's side, just above the gauze, and eased him down while simultaneously pulling the blankets down. 
    Pulling the blankets up to his chin snugly, I fluffed the pillow behind his head and stooped to pick up his clothes from the floor. I deposited his jewelry and the contents of his pockets on the end table—a wallet, a half-empty pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a crumpled piece of paper—then walked to the washing machine and tossed his clothes in. 
    I grabbed a mop and bucket, scrubbing away all the track marks Hakyeon had left. I located his boots, doused them with water, and set them out to dry by the gaping hole that was my front door.  
    I straightened up the living room and kitchen, cleaning up the spilled milk and putting the empty milk carton in the trash. I paused for several minutes to stare blankly at the hole in my front wall, finally dragging a massive oak hutch in front of the hole. 
    Deciding that would do until tomorrow, I walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. Staring at myself in the mirror, my thoughts flashed back to the gun pressed to my neck earlier. I could have died so quickly, so unexpectedly. 
    I had thought this was going to be a quiet night in. Boy, was I wrong. 
    I hung up the towel and walked to my bedroom, finding Hakyeon snoring softly in my bed. I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a loose tank top, sitting down on the other side of the bed and reaching up to turn the light off. 
    Burrowing under the covers, I sighed as I stretched out on my back with the blankets tucked under my arms. I stared at the darkness above me, little flickers of vision coming to me as my eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. 
    A rustling made me turn my head, and I stiffened when a warm weight settled gently on my chest. Something curled tightly around my flank and I realized dimly Hakyeon's head was on my chest, his arm tightened around my waist. He was breathing peacefully, tucking himself against me. 
    My heart melted slowly and I wrapped one arm hesitantly around his back, sighing once more before closing my eyes. 

    I blinked slowly, morning light filtering through the window above my bed. I yawned and stretched, looking around and remembering Hakyeon with a start. The pile of jewelry was gone from my bedside table, and I stood up sleepily. 
    Walking into the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and found everything in order. I went to the living room, surprised to see the hutch pulled back and my door perfectly intact. The bullet holes were gone from my wall and Hakyeon's boots were gone.
    For a brief second I wondered if I had dreamt everything. 
    Then the door swung open and Hakyeon breezed inside, humming softly to himself and carrying plastic bags. They dangled from his arms, swaying when he kicked off his boots and walked to the kitchen counter. Hakyeon looked up and saw me, smiling and waving me over.
    "Hey, Leo." Hakyeon greeted happily, running his hand through his hair. He was wearing the pajamas I had dressed him in, his broad shoulders filling out the shirt that fell a little too long on him, stopping mid-thigh.  
    "What is that?" I asked instead, pointing to the two styrofoam containers Hakyeon pulled out of the bags. 
    "Try some." Hakyeon said, popping one container open and handing me a plastic fork. I looked skeptically at the food in front of me, wrinkling my nose. 
    "What is it? Where did you get it?" I asked.
    "It's carne asada fries. I got you some from the shop on the corner." Hakyeon said. I poked the mixture with a fork, still looking skeptically at him. 
    "You bought this?" I asked.
    "I said I got it, not bought it." Hakyeon said suggestively, taking a bite from him own container and from somewhere deep in his chest. 
    "You stole it?" I exclaimed, backing away from the stolen packages. Hakyeon rolled his eyes, that same smirk playing with his mouth. 
    "If I say no, will you just eat some?" Hakyeon chuckled, and I shook my head. 
    "I'll just have cereal." I said, starting towards the cabinets. 
    "With no milk?" Hakyeon reminded me. I sighed, and he held out a bite of food from his own fork. "Come on."
    "I don't know..." I trailed off. Hakyeon leaned closer, raising one eyebrow and giving me a look that made my spine tingle. 
    "I don't bite." Hakyeon murmured. "Unless you want me to." 
    That same crazy smile spread over his mouth and I smacked his arm, looking away. Hakyeon laughed and ate quickly, walking over to the couch with his styrofoam box. 
    "I got your door fixed, by the way." Hakyeon called, picking up my book distractedly and examine the coffee stains on it. 
    "Thanks." I murmured distantly. My mind kept flickering back to Hakyeon's hooded eyes and deep voice, mentally reviewing him. 
    He reminded me of a rebellious demon, someone who was sent to earth for trouble, but just ended up having a good time. With his black clothes and eyes like the night sky in hell, he could easily pull off the bad boy look. Especially with that reckless, careless, thoughtless smile of his, the one that a demon might wear while setting something expensive on fire. 
    But there was gentleness to him too. A sensitivity, a carefulness. 
    And apparently, a stupidness in me. Wake up, idiot, you met him last night saving him from armed gangsters. He's not some tortured angel-turned-devil. He's a weirdo who steals food.
    "I should be going." Hakyeon announced, standing up and striding to the door. He laced his boots, then turned to me with a small wave. 
    "Really?" I said, snapping into myself after a brief moment of shock. 
    "Yeah." Hakyeon said, turning the doorknob. "Don't worry though, I'll be back to play."
    A promising smile curled his mouth and I nodded, waving goodbye as he vanished out the door. 
    I locked the door behind him and returned to the bathroom to put away the first-aid supplies. I finally straightened up, looking myself in the eye in the mirror and pointing sternly at my reflection. 
    "Get it together, Taekwoon. He is nothing but trouble. And you don't like trouble. You like safety. You don't like getting shot at. Okay? Keep it together, Taekwoon. You don't like danger."
    It turns out, I liked danger more than I thought I did. 

A/N:
CHAPTER ONE IS HERE!!!!!
OMG I'm so excited XP this is my first Neo fic, so please go easy on me <3
Please please please leave me a comment? I love them more than anything <3
Thank you! I love you!
—Sujin
Also, do you guys want to ship Ravi with Hyuk, Hongbin, or Ken for the next chapter?
Please let me know so I can please you guys ^_^