“Junmyeon, I don’t need a partner, I’m fine on my own. You know that.”

“I do, and I still want you to be part of a team.”

Kyungsoo glares at him, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“If this is part of that intern system you brought up ages ago, I voted against it anyway,” he says bluntly. Worrying about someone else on the field means a higher chance of getting shot and tanking the operation. On his own, he only has himself to trust and himself to worry about and it always helps him get the job done more efficiently.

“He’s not an intern, he’s a professional, Kyungsoo. I wouldn’t have picked him otherwise,” Junmyeon glares back with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t look like he’s going to give in on this.

Kyungsoo bristles, trying to keeps his expression impassive even as he speaks through gritted teeth.

“You know I work better alone.”

“You’ll learn to work with this too.”

Junmyeon is already giving him that look that says he’s made up his mind and refusal is not an option. There’s a reason he’s the boss around here. After the fiasco in Shenzhen, he probably doesn’t want to risk any more lone wolves going under the radar without backup.

“I can’t be responsible for him,” Kyungsoo sighs finally.

“You won’t have to be,” Junmyeon says simply. “You’re his partner not his babysitter. He can take care of himself.”

Kyungsoo throws his hands up in defeat, realizing that there’s no winning this against Junmyeon.

“Fine,” he concedes begrudgingly. “What’s his name?”

Jongin is waiting for him in the shooting range, dismantling his gun and putting it back together with the ease and speed of a true professional. Kyungsoo has gone through his file cover to cover after Junmyeon handed it to him, scanning through his stats and the missions he’s worked on. He’s sharp and bright, but that still doesn’t mean much. He wouldn't be here in the first place if he weren’t.

He’s got a few inches on Kyungsoo even though he’s a year younger, with broad shoulders and and a lean back that Kyungsoo can see through his tank top. He turns around when he hears the door open, pushing the clip back into the gun and slips it into the holster.

“Beretta 92FS,” Kyungsoo comments, pointedly jutting his chin out at the holster. “Interesting choice.”

“I like the grip,” Jongin answers easily, eying Kyungsoo carefully. “You?”

“Walther works better for me,” Kyungsoo says, pulling his own gun from behind his belt. Turning off the safety, he takes the shooting lane beside Jongin and aims at the target figure.

It’s standard procedure for newly formed teams to go through preliminary training sessions together to test out their compatibility on the field. Junmyeon is very strict and thorough about everyone seeing it through, and no one questions him.

They go a few rounds at the shooting range before heading off to the next part of the procedure. Jongin is an excellent shot, quick with good reflexes. Kyungsoo is mildly impressed but says nothing. It’s when they’re under pressure that counts.

Combat training with Jongin is interesting. It’s as easy to block Jonign’s strikes as it is hard to land one of his own. They’ve got their defence positions locked down tight, parrying each other’s strikes to the point where they’re so well synced, there isn’t an opening that can’t be returned in kind. Kyungsoo finally calls the session to a stop when it looks like they won’t be having any problems in that area. With such similar combat styles, it should be easy enough to back each other up on a mission.

Kyungsoo grills him on tactical strategies while they’re winding down from the exercise, putting him on the spot to see how he’d handle different situations. They may be partners but Kyungsoo is still the senior and officially cleared to take charge. Jongin doesn’t argue with it, listening carefully and giving such perfect answers to everything Kyungsoo throws out, that even he can’t deny it.

“So,” Jongin says, packing up his training bag and looks up at him while he ties his shoelaces. “Did I pass your test?”

Kyungsoo smirks grimly and walks away.

The first case Junmyeon puts them on is an extraction job. They’ve got new intel on the location of a missile microchip that went missing from the government labs a few weeks back. Finding the thief had been easy enough but their hands were tied until he made a move to collect it, laying low and sticking to the shadows without spooking him into disappearing and taking the chip with him.

“It’s in a safety deposit box, locked away in a bank across town,” Junmyeon says, handing them both the documents with the rest of the details. “We’ve had someone tailing him for a while; looks like he’s closing the deal tomorrow, so he’ll be making a withdrawal soon.”

“And you need us to be there when it happens. On it,” Kyungsoo says, skimming through the last of the details before slapping the folder shut. Without the chip, his deal collapses and he’ll be forced to leave the country to get away from the buyers who’ll think he’s trying to scam them.

He doesn’t wait for Jongin before leaving the office.

Running the operation is fairly easy and quick. Alone, it would have been an easy take out anyway, but with Jongin it goes a lot smoother and cuts the time he’d usually take in half. It’s easy enough for Kyungsoo to find a blind spot in the bank’s security system to pry open a grate and wait in the ventilation system running through the vault room. Jongin takes his position in the cafe just outside the bank, keeping in contact with Kyungsoo through their earpiece, waiting for the dealer to turn up.

“Alright, here we go, he’s heading inside,” Kyungsoo hears Jongin’s voice in his ear and gets ready to drop inside the room on Jongin’s signal. They need to wait until the dealer fills out the admission slip before Jongin makes a move.

“Oh god, sir, I am so sorry,” Kyungsoo hears Jongin’s exclamation through the com and pushes the metal plate of the shaft open. He makes sure the straps are on securely before lowering himself down into the room, unclasping the hooks from his gear quickly.

“I got coffee all over your suit, hang on let me help-”

“Get the away from me-”

Kyungsoo listens to the banter go on a little longer before Jongin’s voice comes back through the com clearly, addressing him.

“Box 170. You have less than two minutes so make it quick.”

Kyungsoo locates the slot immediately and pulls out his lock pick, frowning as he works the pins around in the keyhole until he hears a click. Yanking out the box, he works it open and rifles through the contents quickly, pushing aside the wads of cash and passports until he finds the small case with the microchip in it.

Kyungsoo hears the muffled sound of a gate being opened on the other side of the vault door, and picks up the speed. Tucking the case into his pocket, he clips the hooks back onto his gear and hoists himself up with a grunt. He pushes the metal back into place in the shaft just as the vault door rolls open.

Jongin is waiting for him when he emerges from the grate, keeping a lookout for anyone coming by too close.

“Got it?”

“Yeah. Let’s get back to the car.”

Thinking back, it pisses Kyungsoo off a little, refusing to admit how impressed he is by the cover Jongin pulled off. He grits his teeth, begrudgingly realizing that they really do work well together on the field. The communication was clear, efficient and effective there’s no denying that, even if Kyungsoo wants to. The image of Junmyeon’s gloating face makes him grip the wheel a little tighter, pressing down harder on the pedal to blow off some steam.

They file into Junmyeon’s office later on to hand in the paperwork from the mission, along with the microchip. Junmyeon flips the folder open, skimming through the details briefly and dismisses them with a nod. Jongin turns on his heel and Kyungsoo makes to follow but Junmyeon signals him to stop before he does.

“Just a minute, Kyungsoo,” he says, waiting till Jongin is out of earshot. Idly flipping a page over, he props his elbows on his desk and rests his chin on his linked fingers.

“Under twenty minutes, huh? That’s a new record.”

“Oh, save it,” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and and marches out of the room so he doesn’t have to hear Junmyeon’s smug ‘I told you so’. He ing saw this coming.

Still, the thought hangs over him for the rest of the day, all through their next combat training session. If he has to have a partner, then Jongin is probably the best he could ask for. If running ops with him go as smoothly as the one they just pulled off, then they shouldn’t run into any problems working together. It’s as good a match as it gets, Kyungsoo supposes. He can’t afford to be petty in this line of work, especially not in a team. Besides, he hasn’t even tried giving Jongin a chance.

When they’re done, Kyungsoo offers his hand to a sweaty Jongin, sitting on the floor and blinking up at him in surprise.

“Good job today,” he says sincerely, acknowledging out loud that they’ll work well enough together. It takes a moment to process but Jongin gets the message and takes his hand, looking pleased as he lets Kyungsoo help him up.

After a series of small scale operations that Junmyeon puts them on, he finally has a heavier job that he needs them to handle. It’s a covert mission this time, undercover up in Sokcho, a good three hours out of town. Most of it will have to be surveillance work, which is where their cover IDs come into play, letting them occupy an apartment without raising suspicion. An old mark they’ve been targeting for a while now is finally back on the radar after going dark a year back. Junmyeon’s finally managed to trace Yang’s movements through his dealings back to one general area. He’s been linked to a giant cluster of federal crimes but keeps slipping through their fingers just well enough to shirk out of proof that would incriminate him. They need to catch him in the act to finally have something on him to work with.

“We’re going as a couple?” Kyungsoo grits out darkly, reading the file Junmyeon hands them.

“It has to be believable,” Junmyeon shrugs, beaming. “You’ll be able to keep an eye on things from a distance without looking out of place. I’ll send a backup team to lay low in the area whenever you need them.”

Jongin isn’t looking at him, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he read the details in the file. Junmyeon tells them to have their things prepared by the morning before dismissing them .

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Kyungsoo hisses when Jongin leaves, narrowing his eyes at Junmyeon. He’s half tempted to punch the smug smile off his face but reins in the urge, nostrils flaring when he leaves.

It’s a long, tiring drive before they pull into the right street. The apartment is right down at the very end of the road, secluded enough that it doesn't attract any unwanted attention. Pulling out the key, Kyungsoo unlocks the door and pushes it open. The lungful of dust he inhales catches him off guard, tears springing in his eyes as he coughs into his hand. Jongin follows him inside, pulling the neck of his shirt over his nose.

“What the hell?” he says, thumping Kyungsoo on the back while he's still choking.

That’s exactly what Kyungsoo texts Junmyeon when he's stopped wheezing long enough to reach for his phone. Jabbing the send button, Kyungsoo s blindly in the dark for the switch to turn on the lights. It's only two in the afternoon but there's no way he's risking the curtains at this rate.

'Practice your teamwork' Junmyeon sends back and Kyungsoo angrily stuffs his phone back into his pocket. It’s not like he hadn’t already resolved himself to work on it.

There doesn't seem to be a clean patch anywhere in the house for him to set his bags down so he settles for the kitchen table after blowing the layer of dust away. Jongin is wandering in and out of the rooms, wrinkling his nose at the state of the place.

“Might as well sleep in the car,” he grunts, staring in disbelief at the puff of dust that rises when he beats a hand on the mattress.

"Come on," Kyungsoo sighs, resigned. He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. "Let's get this over with."

It takes them the entire day to clean the filth out of the entire apartment. The laundry is a tedious piece of work when there's so much that needs the spin, including all the sheets and bedspreads they find in the closets. Kyungsoo's fingers are numb by the time he's done vacuuming and Jongin's pruney fingers don't seem to be faring much better where he's scrubbing and polishing with three different detergents.

By the time they're done, it's dark outside and Kyungsoo drags himself to the kitchen, dropping down into one of the chairs. Jongin mumbles something about fixing up something to eat, picking from the limited choice of sealed food they'd found in the cupboard earlier. They'll have to restock that tomorrow.

The smell of food revives him and Kyungsoo's stomach grumbles loudly in anticipation. His mouth is watering when Jongin pushes a plateful of food towards him, sitting across the table from him with his own food.

Shoveling a giant forkful into his mouth, Kyungsoo chews thoughtfully for a moment before slowing to a stop. It takes a lot of effort to actually swallow it down. He studies Jongin's face silently, watching him munch slowly, pointedly avoiding his eyes. The furrow between his brows deepens but he obstinately scoops up another forkful.

"Jongin, this is terrible," Kyungsoo says finally, raising an eyebrow when Jongin scoops up more rice. He's never tasted anything so bland in his life.

"It's perfectly fine," Jongin grumbles. He makes it through one more mouthful before dropping his fork in defeat. "Okay, it's ."

Kyungsoo laughs, patting him on the shoulder when he steps past him to get the phone.

“I’ll order pizza.”

There's not much else to do in the house until they catch wind of an exchange taking place or get called to take care of a new target in the area. They settle a few small jobs here and there, taking on some quick cases that only take a day or two but other than that, they have a lot of free time on their hands.

The city centre is nice, offering a wide choice of cafes to settle down in, each with a different angle of the crowd. It’s perfect for keeping an eye on Yang, watching his daily routine over their smoothies until he heads back into his little flat just around the block. It’s easy enough to plant enough cameras with a clear view of every angle as they move from one cafe to another casually, spreading out the trips along a whole week. This way they can watch him from the feed back to their computer at the house since there are no security cameras looking the right way.

In the meantime, they need to work on selling their story, the happy couple living up on 48th.

The fridge is in desperate need of stocking up and Kyungsoo smacks Jongin awake to drag him to the mini-market a couple of blocks up.

"Why do we need to go so early?" Jongin grumbles sleepily, trying to burrow deeper into his pillow. Throwing open the curtains, Kyungsoo yanks the sheets aside, snorting when Jongin curls up into a ball with a shiver.

"Because I'm sick of soggy noodles and if we get a fresh trout now, we'll be able to have stew for lunch."

He knows he's won Jongin over the second he uncurls himself slowly, peering at him over his pillow. There's only so many days of ty food they can take.

"Gimme two minutes to get changed," Jongin says, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn.

Satisfied, Kyungsoo leaves him be, heading back to his own bedroom to get his wallet and keys. He checks his phone again for the third time that morning. Nothing new from Junmyeon. Sighing, he tucks it into his pocket and slips into his shoes by the door, waiting for Jongin.

"How do you feel about chocolate?" Jongin asks, lingering by the cake display.

"Very strongly," Kyungsoo says, stopping in his tracks to peer through the glass at the desserts with him.

"Gateau for dessert, then," Jongin grins, straightening up to place his order with the person behind the counter.

"Your diet is terrible, you know that?" Kyungsoo sets the boxed up cake down in the cart carefully, pushing the other items aside to make space.

"I don't see you complaining," Jongin retorts, pushing the cart along the aisle. Shrugging, Kyungsoo can't object to that, catching a whiff of the sweet chocolate cream from the box.

They make their way through the vegetable aisle after that, loading the cart with enough potatoes to last them a week or so.

"Blue jacket, three o'clock."

Jongin's bending over the cart, keeping his face hidden while he rummages through the packs of food, stacking them up neatly. Kyungsoo feints a glance at the list in his hands, studying the words before turning to his right towards a shelf of pasta. The man in blue is barely ten feet away, standing over by the frozen beef. Reaching up for a box of spaghetti,  Kyungsoo scans the label on the back and shoots the man a quick once over before turning back to Jongin.

Yang. So he’s finally left the house again. Still, there’s nothing much to gather in a place like this except that he likes vanilla ice cream and he keeps a gun tucked into his pants at all times, hidden under his shirt. They need to wait.

"Let's go," Kyungsoo says, dropping the pasta in the cart.

Kyungsoo busies himself in the kitchen, stowing everything away and leaves out what he's using to make lunch. He can hear Jongin's low murmur, updating Junmyeon on what little they’ve gathered through the secure line they've got set up.

"Yeah. Yep, got it, sir," Jongin says, walking into the kitchen. "We'll keep an eye out."

He slumps down on one of the chairs, tossing his phone aside with a sigh.

"Anything new?" Kyungsoo asks over his shoulder, busy with the  knife he's using on the chicken.

"Dug up some new intel; they're still working on decrypting them. Junmyeon said the code is a to break this time."

Kyungsoo nods, reaching over for the carrots.

"Where'd you even learn to cook all this fancy food?" Jongin asks curiously, coming up next to him to stare at the spread on the counter.

Kyungsoo smiles, pushing the diced carrots off to the side.

"Infiltration task force a few years ago. I worked undercover as a personal chef for a tycoon we had on target," Kyungsoo explains simply. "He had dealings with the Russians, weapon trafficking mostly among other things."

He sets the knife down and wipes his hands off before turning back to Jongin.

"I had to make it convincing," he shrugs, thumbing at a scar on his thumb where he'd burnt himself practicing with meat.

Learning everything from scratch within a month was difficult, to say the least, but it paid off well enough in the end. Jihwan is still safely locked away because Kyungsoo dug up enough dirt to land him in supermax where he can't hurt anyone else.

"Dedication," Jongin says, sounding almost awed and Kyungsoo smiles to himself. "I respect that."

Pulling open the kitchen drawer, Jongin sifts through the cutlery before picking out a knife and brings it out.

"Can I help?"

Sometimes they take their meal out onto the front garden, like they've seen some of the neighbours do when it's sunny enough.

They had unearthed an old barbecue grill back when they cleaned out the entire place; a little shabby but it works fine. Jongin brings out the meat, spreading the strips out on the grill over the hot coals with the thongs.

Darting up behind him, Kyungsoo takes them from his hand and nudges him aside.

“Wouldn't want you to burn down the whole neighbourhood,” he says, thinking of the charred marks he still can't get out of the pan from Jongin's attempt at frying a steak.

Jongin glares at him, stepping in close again behind him and pinches his side, keeping a smile plastered to his face. The subtle gesture at this proximity is mostly just for show; even if no one can tell that he squeezes a little harder as payback.

He leaves to go set up the table begrudgingly and Kyungsoo smiles, even if his waist stings.

The sudden burst of music behind him has him turning around in surprise, watching Jongin fumbling with his iPod.

"Sorry," he says, tweaking the volume of the speaker to make it lower. "Just remembered I packed this in with my stuff."

Kyungsoo listens curiously for a moment, suddenly recognizing the voice.

"Is that G.Soul?" he asks, flipping the meat over on the grill.

Jongin snaps his head up and stares at him, a huge smile breaking across his face, eyes crinkled into crescents.

"You like his music?"

"I've got his entire discography," Kyungsoo grins.

Jongin breathes out a delighted laugh, shuffling up beside him by the grill again.

"I had no idea you actually had good taste."

Rolling his eyes, Kyungsoo elbows him in the ribs, still smiling.

"Here," he says, slicing a small piece off the corner of the meat and pinches it with the thongs. "Try it."

Jongin leans forward, letting Kyungsoo feed him the meat. Hissing, he holds it between his teeth first, trying to let it cool before eating it properly.

Tsking, Kyungsoo reaches up to wipe a drop of grease off the corner of Jongin's mouth and his thumb before he knows what he's doing.

He freezes and Jongin blinks at him in surprise, stopping mid-chew. Dropping his hand quickly, Kyungsoo swallows through the tightness in his throat, fixing his eyes on the meat.

"It's delicious," he hears Jongin mumble awkwardly, slipping away from his side.

Kyungsoo finally receives a text about a new case from Junmyeon a week later, with instructions to check the mail box. He retrieves the packet quickly and tears it open, spreading the papers out on the floor by the couch where Jongin is waiting.

Wednesday. That's when they need to hit. They've got three days to go through all the material they've got and figure out how to get in, get the job done and get out.

"Who's the target?" Jongin asks, reaching out for the blueprints of the enterprise they need to infiltrate.

"CEO of some shady oil conglomerate. Cheon," Kyungsoo says, skimming through the background details before finding the stack of pictures of him leaving the office. "They've got a lot of backdoor dealings with stolen military technology too. We need to find the source."

Jongin hums, reading through the data. “Deal goes down at 8pm. So we need to get in before he scrubs his records clean.”

Kyungsoo look up just as Jongin tosses something small at him, catching it deftly in his palm.

“This is it?” he asks, looking down at the pendrive. It’s looks like one of Junmyeon’s newer models.

“Should wipe everything off the computer in minutes,” Jongin says over the rim of his mug of hot chocolate.

“C’mon,” he nudges the other steaming mug on the coffee table at Kyungsoo, patting the space on the couch next to him. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

They slip into the building when it gets dark, knocking out a couple of guards at the entrance as they make their way inside. Jongin works on disabling the security cameras with a laser pointer while Kyungsoo snags the elevator key off one of the guards, to get them both up to the private top floor.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Jongin murmurs, keeping his gun up and scans the hallway for anyone who might be around.  

Kyungsoo covers his right, making sure it’s all clear behind them. The lights up here have been turned off when the hallway should be brightly lit. He glances along the walls and realizes that the cameras up here have been turned away to face the walls. It hits him now that there should have been more guards downstairs to tighten security around the building.

There’s no time to do anything about it once they round the corner up ahead, spotting their target bent over his computer in his office. He’s flanked by two men holding M16s at the ready. Kyungsoo nods silently and they pad forward, their footsteps dulled by the fitted carpet.

Jongin reaches out to push the glass door open just as a bullet whistles right past them, missing them by inches. They both duck down when a group of men emerge from the other end of the hallway, sending another volley of bullets their way.

“More bodyguards?” Jongin wheezes, pressing himself flat against the wall. Kyungsoo doesn’t have an answer, not having anticipated any of this.

Jongin fires off a couple of rounds to hold them back, giving them a couple of seconds to throw themselves through the door. The commotion is enough to alert Cheon of the danger, sending him scrambling to destroy everything more quickly. Jongin bursts inside first, taking the guards out quickly with two shots. They’re only working with beanbag rounds in their guns though, so they need to hurry before the guards come to again. Kyungsoo lunges at the Cheon, knocking his gun away before he can take a shot and slams his hand down into the side of his neck to knock him out cold.

“Wipe the computer, I’ll hold them off,” Jongin grunts, ducking down behind the giant oak table for cover before taking down the next two suits that come through the door. He throws a smoke can out the doorway to buy them more time and cover; they’re sorely outnumbered.

Kyungsoo jams the pendrive into the port, scanning the screen quickly. The files begin to transfer and Kyungsoo pulls up the open windows on the desktop, trying to figure out what happened.

“,” he breathes, skimming over the numbers and lines of text. The whole thing was a scam from the beginning. The money had already been wired through and Cheon was getting ready to take off with the data, betraying his buyers. They must have had their men wait nearby as a precaution, prepared for some sort of betrayal and now they’re crossing paths at the worst possible time.

Jongin’s busy shooting over the table but there’s too much chaos and bullets flying right past them, shattering glass and frames.The data transfer finishes and Kyungsoo rips the pendrive out just before the computer takes a bullet and shatters. Pulling out his own gun, he ducks down on the other end of the table and takes his shot, aiming at the countless men filtering into the room now.

“I’m out,” Jongin wheezes, slumping down against the table cabinet and pulls out the empty magazine from his gun. He crawls over to Kyungsoo, keeping his head low. “Do you have any- holy.”

Kyungsoo sends another one crumpling to the ground before ducking back, alarmed by Jongin’s tone. Jongin is gaping at something under the deep arch of the table in shock and Kyungsoo nearly drops his gun when he spots the child curled up in the dark corner.

Another set of bullets whistle over their heads, embedding themselves into the wall and Kyungsoo fires off the last rounds he’s got left.

“,” he curses, tossing the useless gun aside. They need to get out of here, fast.

“Kyungsoo, we need to get him out of here,” Jongin says urgently, throwing open the drawers and rummages through them till he finds a letter opener.

“I know,” he says, frowning at how cornered they are. “First, we need more guns.”

He rifles through the drawer, looking for anything else that could be useful. The half empty can of deodorant will have to do.

“Stay here until we come and get you, okay?” he hears Jongin telling the little boy, before turning to him with a nod. Kyungsoo pulls out a lighter from his pocket and in a deep breath before leaping out from behind the table and blasts a cloud of fire into the armed men. It’s enough of a distraction to get him close enough to one of them to snap his leg out from under him and take his gun. Kyungsoo brings the hilt down hard onto his head till he collapses and turns to shoot down another three before they’ve aimed their weapons at him.

Jongin’ss managed to disarm another two on the other side of the room but Kyungsoo’s attention is drawn back to the next wave of bullets that narrowly miss him. He’s well aware that these are real bullets this time, not bean bag rounds, and he’s only got half a clip left, at best.

He nearly misses his target when he hears a loud cry behind him, recognizing Jongin’s voice and turns to see him cradling his right arm to his chest, face contorted in pain. He’s struggling with one of the men, trying to keep him away from the child under the table without getting shot.

Kyungsoo takes care of the last guy coming at him and just catches Jongin getting ahold of the gun and shooting with his left hand. He staggers and drops down on one knee just before Kyungsoo skids over next to him, trying to assess the damage.

His shoulder is completely dislocated, the ball of his shoulder jutting out at a nasty angle that he can’t just shrug back into place. The child is trembling, staring between them, terrified. The sudden shrill sound of police sirens from a distance catches his ear and Kyungsoo swears, turning back to Jongin. They need to fix him up quickly. He reaches out for Jongin's arm but Jongin pushes his hands away.

"Not here! God not here," he gasps, clenching his teeth tightly. His face is pinched in pain when he glances at the wide eyed boy staring at him. "Not in front of the kid."

The sirens are getting closer and they still need to find a way out without getting caught. Their timing’s off by a mile from what they’d planned; they need to wing it from here. Peering over the edge of the table, Kyungsoo casts an eye over the bodies strewn across the room, laying in seeping puddles of blood. This place will be swarmed with police soon. They can deal with Cheon themselves.

Kyungsoo turns back to the boy and looks at him properly; he can’t be any older than four years.

"Hey, kid," he starts gently. "What's your name?"

The child eyes him warily, clutching the hem of his shirt tightly. "Junghan."

"Junghan, we're going to play a game, okay?" Kyungsoo says, working on helping Jongin to his feet quickly as he speaks. Jongin doesn't quite manage to bite back his whimper of pain but he can stand fine by himself.

Junghan nods slowly and Kyungsoo squats down to his level again.

"We're going to play hide and seek, okay? My friend is going to go hide now," he nods at Jongin pointedly and he gets the message, hugging his arm against his chest before darting around the table to slip out of the room.

"Okay, close your eyes," Kyungsoo says and Junghan squeezes them shut obediently. He hoists him up into his arms, making sure his arm is still free enough to reach for his gun if he has to. The thought of using it while holding a child in his arms makes his stomach churn.

"I need you to help me count to twenty, can you do that for hyung?"

Junghan nods again and Kyungsoo makes sure his face is turned towards his chest, blocking his view of the room.

"No peeping! Ready? Go!"

Kyungsoo takes off at a brisk pace, sidestepping the bodies easily and keeps a hand curled around the back of Junghan's head to make sure he doesn't sneak a glance. His voice is muffled against his chest, counting the numbers slowly. It's just enough time for Kyungsoo to skirt down the empty corridors, heading for the back door where he knows Jongin must have gone through to bring the car around.

He bursts out into the alley, glancing around warily to check that it’s all clear. The lights from the police sirens are flashing faintly from the far end of the alley, where they’re barricading the front entrance of the building. Jongin is waiting with the car just around the corner on the other end, with a clear path to avoid the police if they move fast.

Lowering Junghan, Kyungsoo steers him towards the mouth of the alley and points at the bright lights, ushering him forward gently.

"I think he went over there, go find him!"

Junghan looks doubtful but Kyungsoo keeps his smile plastered to his face, nodding at him encouragingly and Junghan finally caves, heading up the alley slowly towards the police. Kyungsoo keeps his eye on him and waits until there’s no more time to spare, swallowing down the guilt lodged in his throat before dashing towards the car.

Jongin is looking much worse for wear now from the strain of maneuvering the car here with his arm. He looks pale and clammy, the drops of sweat rolling down the side of his face as he shifts into the passenger seat. Kyungsoo takes the wheel and backs the car out into the street, heading off into a back road to avoid the traffic on the highway. He only breathes when he’s put enough distance between them to almost be in the clear. The initial plan may have gone to but he’s positive their escape route was clean and undetected.

Still, they need to sort Jongin’s shoulder out quickly before he tears a muscle or a nerve; the jolts of the car are too much for him no matter how hard he’s trying to bite back his groans. It’s still a long drive before they get home and Kyungsoo needs to get them somewhere quiet and alone to deal with him properly without attracting unwanted attention.

He pulls out onto a dirt road, wincing at Jongin’s whimper when they suddenly hit the loose gravel. The ride gets even more bumpy as he drives further out, until they’re swallowed up entirely by the crop fields on either side and the road is too far away to worry about been spotted by passersby. They can’t afford to attract any more attention to themselves.

Kyungsoo pulls over and hops out quickly, rounding the car to throw Jongin’s door open. He looks terrible, deathly pale, his face contorted with pain.

“Out, come on,” he coaxes Jongin out of the car, helping him over to a low ledge in front of the headlights so he can actually see what he’s doing to get the right angle. Jongin’s breathing is laboured as he tries to keep his arm steady and Kyungsoo unbuckles his leather belt, yanking it out of the loops on his pants and shoves it at Jongin.

“Bite down on it,” he says and Jongin brings it between his teeth with no objection, bracing himself.

Now that he’s actually taking a good look at it, it looks like a nasty displacement, the blade of his shoulder protruding sharply at an awkward angle. The skin around is is already starting to bruise.

“On three, okay?” Kyungsoo reaches for Jongin’s wrist, curling his fingers around his elbow to raise his arm up slowly. He shifts closer, nudging Jongin’s legs apart to brace his knee on the ledge he’s sitting on.

Jongin nods weakly, swallowing and biting down harder on Kyungsoo’s belt.

“One-”

He pulls Jongin’s arm back sharply and then pushes it in, hearing the sickening crunch of his bone popping back into place coupled with Jongin’s scream of pain.

His head falls forward weakly against Kyungsoo’s chest, heaving.

“,” he gasps shakily, the bite in his voice sapped from exhaustion.

Kyungsoo chuckles and pats the back of Jongin’s sweaty neck, giving him a minute to breath before helping him back into the car to go home.

It's late when they finally get back to the house, heading for their own rooms after Kyungsoo binds Jongin’s arm up in a makeshift brace. He’s just about ready to throw himself down on his bed and sleep for three days. It doesn’t even matter that he’s covered in grime and specks of blood that aren’t even his.

Ideally, that's exactly what he would have done. Instead, he's roused after an hour by the loud groaning coming from the next room. The walls are paper thin in this goddamn apartment. He ignores it, still holding on to the shadow of sleep, hoping it will pull him under.

The spell is broken by another volley of groaning and cursing. Seething, Kyungsoo kicks the covers away and storms out of the bedroom, his mood plummeting even lower when he stubs his toe on the door frame in the dark.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kyungsoo throws open the door to Jongin's room, nostrils flaring. His fist is clenched tightly around the doorknob to keep himself from punching something. He’s very cranky when he’s tired.

"Nothing," Jongin grumbles almost imperceptibly, shifting uncomfortably on his side. He gestures lamely at his bound shoulder, suddenly looking sheepish. "I keep forgetting."

Kyungsoo stares at him incredulously. He watches Jongin jab at his pillow, shifting again with a grunt to find a better position, only to move again, evidently uncomfortable. There's another pillow lying behind his back that obviously isn't working very well as a support barrier.

Rolling his eyes, Kyungsoo lets his hand drop from the doorknob and promptly climbs onto the bed beside him.

"What are you doing?" Jongin squawks, rolling onto his back and groaning when he jolts his shoulder too hard.

"I'm never going to get any sleep if you keep whining," Kyungsoo grits out, rolling Jongin back onto his good side, gently despite his mood. Before Jongin can interject, Kyungsoo crawls closer behind him and spoons him from behind to make sure he doesn't roll back onto his bad shoulder.

Jongin stiffens, grumbling again but Kyungsoo throws an arm over his waist and pinches his belly until Jongin falls silent again. He doesn't push him away.

They lie in silence for a moment, until Jongin gradually starts to relax his muscles, sighing into his pillow.

"Better?" Kyungsoo asks him in a softer tone this time.

"Yeah," Jongin mumbles back, curling into himself slightly. They’re both wound up after such a botched up job, it doesn’t help to lash out at each other.

His breathing evens out after a while and he presses back against Kyungsoo; he would have rolled onto his back again had Kyungsoo not been there. Such a restless sleeper. Kyungsoo closes his eyes and waits for Jongin's heartbeat to lull him to sleep.

"You didn't tell us there would be a kid involved, goddamit!" Jongin yells into the phone before Kyungsoo pries it from his fingers and takes it back. Fuming, Jongin storms off into the kitchen, leaving Kyungsoo alone in the sitting room.

"I'm with him on this one, Junmyeon," Kyungsoo says grimly, holding the phone up to his ear. "What the hell happened?"

"We didn't realize he would take him there," Junmyeon sighs on the other end of the line. "Nanny took an impromptu day off; we caught on too late. We think he took the kid there as a fail safe, just in case."

Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose in disgust. He shifts the phone over to his other ear, hearing Jongin banging around in the kitchen. He's still not used to the sling yet.

"Jongin's out of action for a while," Kyungsoo says, lowering his voice. "From the field at least. I could still use his help with tactical support."

"You must be glad to be going solo again," Junmyeon says. "I remember how much you hated the idea of a team."

Kyungsoo scuffs the tip of his shoe against the floorboard.

"It's not so bad," he mutters, turning to see Jongin struggling to open a can of soup with one hand.

Getting used to Jongin’s absence beside him on a mission takes a little more adjusting than expected. He still gets the jobs done to the T, just like old times. Kyungsoo's good at this, always has been. It just feels strangely unsettling not having someone corresponding with him directly on the field and having his back now. Their compatibility on the job ran a little deeper than he'd anticipated, Kyungsoo supposes. Still, communicating with him through the earpiece is a good enough second. Jongin can still be his eyes through the surveillance cameras he manages to hack into. Kyungsoo even mistakenly throws himself into the passenger seat of the car after a job in a warehouse by the port before remembering that Jongin's not actually there behind the wheel this time.

He would be if he weren't tripped up on the pain meds Kyungsoo got him. Getting him to stay put had been a battle in itself, with Jongin insisting that he's just as good a shot with his left hand as his right.

"I can at least stand watch while you're inside," Jongin had tried, following Kyungsoo into his room while he gathered his things.

"Jongin, I'll be fine," Kyungsoo had shut him down, watching his expression twist into a scowl.

He's frustrated; his arm keeps bothering him and the feeling of being so incapacitated and helpless isn’t sitting well with him at all. Kyungsoo gets it, having been there before himself, but his answer is still no.

Kyungsoo finds him passed out on the couch with the TV on by the time he gets home. The coffee table is completely buried under the spread of files and papers on the cases Kyungsoo's been taking care of. Still trying to be as involved as he can even if he can't be there.

Cracking a smile, Kyungsoo turns off the TV and perches on the armrest of the couch, watching Jongin drool on the pillow.

"Hey," he says softly, shaking him awake. "Go to bed. Your arm's gonna get sore here."

Sure enough, Jongin cracks his eyes open and groans when he tries to sit up. He doesn't even shake him off when Kyungsoo helps.

"All good?" he asks sleepily, squinting at him. He reaches out to drag his thumb along Kyungsoo's jaw. "You uh. Had some blood."

"Right. Thanks," Kyungsoo says, feeling the back of his neck burn. "Piece of cake. One knife too many but I handled it."

Jongin nods, yawning into his fist. His hands falls onto Kyungsoo's knee for a moment before letting it slip off.

"I'm glad."

The sling comes off after a couple of weeks but his mobility is still too limited to clear him for a job. Kyungsoo still heads out on his own, taking down a handful of traffickers and neutralizes a blood diamond operation. Having a port nearby means the number of black market ops triples. Jongin helps out as much as he can through the ear com, still glued to the laptop back at the house.

Each time, Kyungsoo comes home completely exhausted, dragging his feet through the door. Jongin has started having a meal ready for him when he gets there. Most of it is instant or plain, as expected considering Jongin's level of culinary skills, but Kyungsoo appreciates it anyhow, wolfing it down hungrily. He helps Jongin with his shoulder exercises later while they're watching TV together.

Kyungsoo finds the idea of coming home to Jongin strangely invigorating. It gets him through missions far more quickly when he's expecting something to get back to afterwards. He's already gotten used to the taste of Jongin’s bland food, almost taking a liking to it now. It's all bizarrely domestic, considering their line of work, and Kyungsoo settles into it comfortably.

It's been a slow day with no new messages from Junmyeon and still no movement from Yang. They move to the couch after dinner and Kyungsoo's glad that they at least have cable on TV.

Settling down on one channel is another matter when they're both fighting for control over the remote. It's easy enough to hold it out of reach when Jongin's limited to one arm. It backfires quickly when Jongin suddenly swings his legs onto the couch, throwing them over Kyungsoo's knees and keeps him braced in place. He's powerless against reflex when Jongin jabs his fingers into his side, right in the spot where he knows Kyungsoo's ticklish, and yanks the remote right out of his hand when he retracts his arm.

He switches over to another channel triumphantly, still keeping his legs thrown over Kyungsoo's lap. Keeping his bad arm out of the way, he leans into Kyungsoo's side comfortably, burrowing into him for warmth because neither of them feels like getting up to find a blanket.

To Jongin's credit, it's not a bad show, some drama about dancers, but Kyungsoo would much rather be watching the action movie he wanted.

"Hey. You're heavy," Kyungsoo grunts, starting to feel a dull ache in his shoulder.

Jongin doesn't answer.

"Jongin? Are you- wow."

He's fast asleep with half his face pressed into Kyungsoo's shoulder. Scoffing, Kyungsoo stares down at what he can see of Jongin's face incredulously, wondering how long it's been since he dozed off.

Still, he doesn't shrug him off. Jongin's hair tickles at his cheek and Kyungsoo reaches up slowly to brush it away, smoothing the tresses back down against Jongin's head. He doesn't think when his thumb brushes along the smooth skin of Jongin cheek, just lets it rest there, bringing his palm down to cup his jaw softly. He presses into the soft skin at the corner of Jongin’s mouth, just sliding over the swell of his lip. Jongin breathes out a small sigh in his sleep and that’s when Kyungsoo rips his hand away, the magnitude of what he's doing suddenly hitting him hard. What he was thinking of doing.

Frowning, Kyungsoo keeps his hand firmly pressed into his side, fixing his eyes back on the TV, barely registering what's going on  on the screen,

Junmyeon’s call comes early in the morning, before either of them are even properly awake. Yang’s on the move.

“Why now?” Kyungsoo asks groggily, heading to Jongin’s room and putting him on loud speaker even though Jongin’s still half asleep. “He hasn’t met anyone since we got here, even his emails are clean.”

“We’re not sure, but he’s making a hit tonight,” Junmyeon says grimly. “We managed to break the code, it’s a file of blueprints. He’s headed for the Chinese embassy; already got himself a meeting with the director. It’s a kidnapping.”

“,” Kyungsoo groans, kneading his forehead and sits on the edge of Jongin’s mattress. That could cause an outcry overseas if he gets away with it. Junmyeon fills him in on the rest of the details before Kyungsoo ends the call and drops his phone.

“This doesn’t make sense,”Jongin murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep.

“We’ve got nothing else to go on,” Kyungsoo sighs, feeling uneasy about the whole thing too.

Jongin pushes himself up, stifling a groan when he stretches his stiff shoulder. Sliding in behind him, Kyungsoo kneads his fingers into the muscles by his neck and shoulder slowly, massaging them like they do every morning.

“I should be going with you,” Jongin mutters, groaning when Kyungsoo presses a little harder on a sensitive spot.

“Your shoulder still isn’t better yet, you need more time,” Kyungsoo says, patting him on the back when he’s done. “In the meantime, come help me figure out the plan for tonight.”

It’s past closing hour already and the building has cleared out of commuters, leaving only a number of staff for Kyungsoo to get past. According to Junmyeon’s intel, the director stays in his office a little longer after hours before heading home. Jongin keeps an eye out for him, already having hacked into the security feed to tell him where to go and what to avoid. No one else has come in or out before Kyungsoo got there besides the staff so he’s still in time.  

Kyungsoo keeps his gun in hand, cautious when rounding each corner as he makes his way up to the director’s floor.

The light is still on in the office and Kyungsoo inches closer carefully, lowering his gun when he sees that no one’s around.

“Looks like it's all clear,” Jongin tells him through the earpiece, and Kyungsoo pushes the door open.

The back of the director’s chair is facing him, looking out the window instead, at the city laid out before the building. He can just see the top of his head over the back.

The glass is already broken. Kyungsoo whips his gun back up, inching closer and rounding the table slowly. Something bulky on the floor catches his eye and Kyungsoo freezes when he sees a body half stashed under the table, bleeding from the bullet wounds to the chest. He recognizes the director immediately.

“Kyungsoo?” Jongin says through the line. “What’s going on?”

. Kyungsoo reaches out for the back of the leather chair slowly, keeping his gun up and spins it around.

Yang is slumped in the seat, dressed in a janitor uniform with a bullet between his eyes. It must have been a sniper shot. Kyungsoo’s eyes widen; it’s a set up.

“Kyung-”

Jongin’s voice cuts off abruptly, the earpiece suddenly going dead from his end.

“Jongin? Jongin are you there? ,” Kyungsoo yanks it out of his ear when there’s interference but freezes when he hears the clear sound of police sirens out in the street. Whoever is doing this knew he would be here and arranged everything around him. Yang must have been a puppet the entire time.

His heart stops in his chest, feeling his insides go cold. If they knew he was here then they know where Jongin is too. He stares at the earpiece, realizing that they’ve probably already gotten to him them. They must have hacked into the earpiece frequency and tracked it to the source, back to the house.

The sirens grow louder and Kyungsoo curses, running out of the office before they find him in here, looking as guilty as whoever set this up wanted him to look.

He barely makes it out without being seen, bursting through a metal door and hurtling down the fire escape. The building is swarming with police by now and Kyungsoo presses himself up against the wall, waiting until there’s an opening.

The moment he makes it outside, he pulls out his phone and dials Junmyeon’s number. He stops just before he hits call though. They’re waiting for him to do this, baiting him into calling back to base for back up so they can triangulate the call. It’s exactly what he would do if he were looking for the big fish in the food chain.

Gritting his teeth, Kyungsoo shoves his phone back in his pocket and heads back to the car, pulling out of the alley and driving as fast as he can to get back to the house.

He can’t get there soon enough, pulling up into the street quietly and shutting off the lights. Kyungsoo takes one look around and spots an unfamiliar black car parked across the street from the house, a short way off. Breathing out through his nose, Kyungsoo presses the pad of his thumb into the skin of his forearm, holding it down hard until he hears a tiny beep. Pushing the car door open, Kyungsoo jogs over to the house, noting the broken window on one side.

The insides of the house have been turned completely upside down. The house is littered with smashed plates and other objects strewn across the ground. Even the couch has been upended, lying on its back. All signs that Jongin put up one hell of a fight even when he’s outnumbered and still nursing an injured arm. Kyungsoo swallows at the bullet hole in the laptop’s shattered screen.

Keeps his gun drawn, he scours the place slowly and calls out Jongin’s name, knowing full well that he’s not here. He hears the slight creak of the front door being pushed open again behind him but doesn’t turn, bracing himself for when the heavy blow smashes into the back of his head and he blacks out.

When he comes to, it’s to the explosive pain in his head, throbbing at the base. Kyungsoo groans, raising his head slowly because his neck is sore too.

“Kyungsoo!”

Jongin’s voice snaps him into focus. He’s sitting in a chair right across from him, with his arms tied around his back. Kyungsoo’s in a similar position, feeling the sharp cut of the tight zip tie binding his wrists together behind the back of the chair.

“What the hell happened?” Jongin hisses, eyes wide with his eyebrows tugging together. Kyungsoo feels a sharp pang in his chest when he takes him in properly. He looks absolutely terrible, sporting a busted lip and a nasty bruise blooming purple over his cheek. There’s dried blood staining the side of his head, some of the trails still looking fresh. He’s slouched over, and Kyungsoo can hear how laboured his breathing is; must be a broken rib or two. Still, he’s favouring his left side, probably trying to relieve his bad shoulder from the twist of the angle his arms are in. They’ve done a real number on him. Kyungsoo grits his teeth, angry at himself for not having Jongin’s back when he needed it.

“You look like . I came to get you out.”

Jongin manages to croak out a laugh, his eyes curving the way Kyungsoo has grown so used to, even though it looks like it hurts him to do it.

“Not that I’m not glad to see you but how exactly does this help?”

Kyungsoo feels around the seat of his chair as far as he can reach, finding exactly what he’s looking for when he feels the hard, cutting edge of a steel nail. He twists it as best he can, slowly trying to work it loose. It’s not nearly as sharp or as slim as he needs it to be but it’ll have to do.

“I’m working on it,” Kyungsoo grunts. He scans the room the room they’re in, taking in the bare walls and grimy floor. There are no windows and there’s only one door. He doesn’t see any cameras or any place where they could be hidden from sight either. “I set off the tracker microchip in my arm. Back up’s coming.”

A look of relief washes over Jongin’s face and he sags tiredly against his restraints. “So. Yang?”

“Dead,” Kyungsoo says grimly. “He was just the pawn, a decoy. We played right into their plan.”

“Where are we?” he asks then, trying to listen for any sounds outside that might give a hint. “Did you see anything when they brought you in?”

Jongin shakes his head. “They bagged my head before they brought me inside.”

“It was quiet outside though,” he goes on, concentrating on the memory. “I woke up in the trunk of their car. We were definitely driving for at least an hour; bumpy ride. Could be an old factory, I smelt oil.”

“Jongin who are they?” Kyungsoo asks finally, the question to tie it all together.

Jongin doesn’t get a chance to answer, snapping his head towards the door when the sound of heavy footsteps echoes outside.

“Whatever they do, don’t say anything,” Jongin says urgently. Kyungsoo doesn’t manage a word before the door bursts open and two men walk into the room.

Kyungsoo recognizes them immediately. Park Jiwon and Hoobin, brothers and ringleaders. The Shenzhen op that went catastrophically after the brothers blindsided the team and set off a string of explosions that nuked half the block and the entire operation. Jiwon pushes his open shirt aside, flashing the gun tucked in his belt just before he marches up to Kyungsoo’s chair and yanks his head back roughly with a fist in his hair.

“Your partner here hasn’t been very chatty, so you better start talking if you know what’s good for you,” he says gruffly, the unspoken threat evident in his tone. “You’re going to tell us where your base is.”

Kyungsoo spits in his face.

It earns him a sharp punch to the jaw and the cold press of the gun barrel in his cheek. He hears Jongin’s barely restrained whimper when Hoobin twists his bad arm around sharply but Jongin keeps his mouth shut too.

Jiwon aims a kick at Kyungsoo’s chair, knocking him off balance to smash onto his side, smacking  his head into the tile. He aims a kick in Kyungsoo’s gut for good measure.

“Nothing to say, huh?” Jiwon sneers, straightening his shirt. “You look like you could use some motivation.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t have any time to figure out what that means before Hoobin presses the heel of his boot into Jongin’s chest and knocks him over too. Jiwon steps aside to give him a clear view of the kick Hoobin aims at Jongin’s face, so hard it snaps his head back. He groans in pain when Hoobin kicks him in the ribs, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Kyungsoo feels something shatter inside him, the panic rising in his throat.

“You were saying?”

Jongin turns to look at him, his face a bloodied, bruised mess and silently pleads with him not to say anything. Jiwon grows impatient though, striding over to him and steps on Jongin’s arm with all his weight until Jongin’s crying out in anguish and Kyungsoo’s heart feels like it’s being ripped apart.

“Wait!” he exclaims just as Hoobin shoves his gun in Jongin’s face. Jongin can’t take much more and Kyungsoo is done watching him get hurt. Jiwon turns to him, squatting down beside him and aims the barrel of his gun to his head.

“Ready to talk now?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says, finally slipping the tip of the nail under the locking bar of the zip tie. It comes loose when he pulls his wrists apart behind his back. “My shoe.”

“What?” Jiwon frowns, confused. He averts his eyes just for a moment and it’s all Kyungsoo needs.

He whips his arm around, grabbing a fistful of Jiwon’s hair and drives his knee up to smash it into his face. Kyungsoo scrambles to his feet and kicks Jiwon’s gun away before he can raise it and knocks him out quickly. Hoobin growls, turning to charge at him but Jongin twists around and kicks the back of his legs hard to bring him down on his knees, wrenching the gun away from his hand with a foot slammed down on his wrist. It sets off one shot but Kyungsoo grabs Jiwon’s discarded gun and rushes over, bringing the hilt down on Hoobin’s head with all his strength. He catches him quickly when he crumples unconscious, shoving him aside so he doesn’t crush Jongin in the fall.

Dropping to his knees, Kyungsoo pries the ziptie open the same way he did his own, and brings his arm around from behind his back slowly. It’s hard to hear the way Jongin whimpers, half his body beaten down the way it is, but they’re running out of time. The Parks’ men must have been alerted to the trouble by the gunshot.

“We have to go,” he says, helping Jongin sit up. His movements are slow and jerky, probably feeling pain with every breath he takes in. He’s still bleeding from the wounds in his face and his head. Kyungsoo doesn’t know what they did to him before he got there but it was probably worse than what they did in front of him. Kyungsoo tries not to picture it, focusing on the fact than Jongin held on and he’s still alive, still breathing.

“,” he whispers shakily, hollowed out with the crashing relief in his ribs that he’s not dead in his arms right now. He holds Jongin’s head in his hands gently and brings his mouth to Jongin’s bloodstained crown, pressing his lips down along Jongin’s brow even though they don’t have the time for it, but Kyungsoo can’t help it. Jongin’s fingers bump into his knee, resting on his leg in return. There’s a strange look in his eyes when Kyungsoo finally pulls away to hoist him up onto his feet, but they’ll deal with that later. First, they need to get out of here alive.

He shoves Hoobin’s gun into his belt and keeps Jiwon’s loaded one ready in his hand. It’s not ideal but he’s limited to one gun, his other arm wrapped securely around Jongin’s waist to keep him upright against his side, feeling the weight of Jongin’s good arm around his shoulders. There’s no time to wait for back up to get here.

Kyungsoo throws the door open, keeping the gun up as they head down along the corridor outside. They’re walking blindly, with no clue where the exit is or when the rest of the gang is going to spring out on them when they realize what’s happened.

The bullet whistling past Kyungsoo’s ear answers that question the second the round another corner and there are at least five men coming down the metal staircase. Kyungsoo twists around, firing off enough rounds to have them scrambling for cover, giving them enough time to push on. He feels the gun in his belt suddenly pull free and Jongin aims it in the opposite direction before Kyungsoo has even turned back, firing two precise shots.

The gun clatters to the ground at the same time as the two men who’d come around the corner in front of them. Jongin drops his arm with a groan, grimacing when the pain overrides the burst of adrenaline again.

“Nice shot,” Kyungsoo wheezes, abandoning the dropped gun and stepping over the men.

“I’m still useful,” Jongin laughs weakly, pressing into Kyungsoo’s side more heavily.

It feels like they’re stumbling through a labyrinth, going through countless corridors and doors leading to empty rooms without an exit in sight. Kyungsoo can hear the echoes of hurried footsteps getting closer; definitely more men than he has bullets. The look Jongin gives him is apprehensive, aware of the trouble they’re in. It feels like these corridors will never end. Jongin makes a huge effort to straighten up, trying to lift his weight off Kyungsoo to help them move faster but Kyungsoo yanks him back before he hurts himself any more.

“Kyungsoo, wait!” Jongin hisses, stopping in his tracks and jerks Kyungsoo to a sudden stop. “Window.”

It’s a large storage room, full of wooden crates stacked on top of each other like walls. The window is on the other end of the room, and Kyungsoo can clearly see sunlight filtering through. There’s trees in the distance which means that they’re definitely on the ground floor.The footsteps are getting louder, the men’s voices calling out orders sounding even closer and Kyungsoo picks up the pace, tightening his grip on Jongin’s waist.

The gunshots start before they make it to the window and Jongin manages to yank Kyungsoo out of the line of fire, dragging them both behind a wall of containers. Kyungsoo grits his teeth; they’re only a few steps from the window, if they could just get to it before-

“Kyungsoo.”

He turns at the sound of Jongin’s tone, and immediately sees why. They’re standing right next to a giant stack of C4 blocks. It’s an elaborate design, wiring the entire contraption to the ticker clock strapped on top. It’s enough to level a whole block of buildings.

“A present for headquarters?” Jongin asks grimly, eyeing the explosive carefully. He examines the wires closely, reaching out to touch them just as another volley of bullets rains down on them. Taking a deep breath, Kyungsoo swings out from behind the container and sends a series of bullets back for good measure, making sure the men stay back to take cover. He darts back into hiding, checking the clip. He’s all out of bullets and they’re out of options.

His play only buys them a few seconds before the men start shooting at them again, the bullets ricocheting off the metal frame of the container. It’s reckless, considering how volatile the explosive beside them is. The brothers must have kept this part of the plan to themselves, not trusting anyone else with it.

“I think we should-”

“On it,” Jongin cuts in, tugging at the coloured wires under the ticker. He’s only got his left hand to work with properly but he doesn’t seem to be struggling. “I can only give us ten seconds.”

He gives Kyungsoo a long look, a hint of doubt flashing across his eyes. Kyungsoo can tell Jongin thinks he’s not going to make it, not in his state.

“It’ll have to be enough,” he says firmly, sliding his arm back around Jongin’s waist.

“Kyungsoo, you don’t have to-”

“I’m not leaving you.”

He cuts Jongin off before he finishes, not wanting to hear the self sacrifice speech. He’s not leaving him.

“Do it.”

Jongin frowns but reaches back for the ticker, giving it one final tweak and sets it off. Kyungsoo is pulling them both forward when the first beep goes by, tearing towards the window. The second beep has the bullets starting again, missing their marks and shattering the glass. The third and they’re smashing right through the window, hurtling out of the room.

They’ve been trained to tuck and roll in a fall but this one is far from smooth, landing heavily on the broken shards of glass. Kyungsoo’s ribcage feels like it’s caving in when the air gets knocked out of him but he scrambles to his feet, dashing over to help Jongin up even as he’s groaning in pain.

He yanks him up, dragging him away from the building as fast as he can. To his credit, Jongin pushes forward with one last burst of energy to run with him, staggering over the loose rocks and gravel to get away before-

The explosion behind them is deafening; a giant earsplitting roar and the sharp sound of concrete and steel blowing apart. The force of the blast tears them apart from each other, an invisible wall slamming into them from behind and flings them forward with spinebreaking power.

Kyungsoo smashes into the ground on his face, feeling the rain of debris crashing down on him hard, cracking on his head. He tries to move but his body won’t respond. He’s fading, seeing black in the periphery and a sharp pain spreads through all his limbs, like a string of fire inside his veins. Kyungsoo strains to bring his eyes back into focus, trying make out the dark shapes beside him.

  Jongin.

He’s sprawled out on the ground a short way from him, eyes closed and completely unconscious. The dark shape around him grows and Kyungsoo sees the red tint of Jongin’s blood, pooling around his head.

Kyungsoo’s throat is ash and his voice won’t come to him when he tries to scream his name. His fingers somehow obey him, twitching and dragging through the gravel to try and reach him. His body gives out before he makes it and he blacks out.

Kyungsoo wakes up feeling like he’s drowning. His eyes burn when he cracks them open, squinting through the stark brightness even though he can’t see past the blurriness. The first thing he registers is the pain shooting up like fire through his entire body, his limbs heavy and uncoordinated when he tries to raise his arms.

A moving shape appears in his line of vision, a person, putting light pressure on his shoulder.

“...need to stay calm.”

  Junmyeon.

“Where is he?” Kyungsoo slurs, disoriented, trying to blink into focus before the blackness takes over his vision. He passes out before hearing a reply.

He comes to again hours later, his tongue feeling like cotton when he tries to swallow through his dry throat. He’s in the hospital, wearing a flimsy gown under the blanket he’s got draped over him. There’s winding tubes leading down to the needle in his arm and curled up his nose to help him breathe. His attempt to try and sit up feels like he’s churning glass in his chest. Broken rib then. Kyungsoo groans in pain, falling back against his pillow. He can feel the pull of stitches in several places on his skin too. He glances over at the bed beside him but it’s empty, the crisp white sheets tucked in neatly.

Kyungsoo feels a twinge of panic gripping him and he tries to sit up again through the agony in his entire body, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Kyungsoo, you shouldn't be up,” Junmyeon sweeps into the room just then with a cup of coffee in his hands, hurrying over to push him back down. He pours a glass of water and helps him hold it to his lips to take a long swig. Kyungsoo sighs in relief, feeling his throat ease up a little.

“Where is he?” Kyungsoo asks quietly, feeling desperate. Junmyeon sighs.

The ITU isn’t allowing visitors so Kyungsoo doesn’t even get to see Jongin before he’s discharged from the hospital a couple of days later, under strict orders to get lots of bedrest. Junmyeon takes care of the hospital paperwork and sends him home, to his actual house this time, here in Seoul. He filled Kyungsoo in on the rest details; there was no sign that anyone else survived the explosion after it brought the entire building down. One more giant threat successfully neutralized, Junmyeon had said, closing the file on that one.

Kyungsoo got lucky, despite how broken everything feels. Jongin got the worst of it, already having been in bad shape when they got out. The punctured lung was salvageable but he needed to be put in an induced coma, to stabilize him from the head trauma, the doctors said. Kyungsoo swallows tightly and stares down at his hands hollowly. Back then, just before he out, he really thought he’d watched Jongin die right in front of him. Just before his eyes fell shut, it felt like being trapped in some sort of limbo, suspended without being able to make a sound, to scream, to help Jongin, to do anything.

It’s strange being back in his own house after growing so used to the one in Sokcho. Even more than not having to squeeze into the corner of the couch to make space for someone else or fight for the tv remote, it’s the thick silence that’s the most unsettling. Kyungsoo decides to wait a little longer before calling Junmyeon again to ask for updates since they won’t let him see Jongin.The constant ‘what ifs’ still continue to plague him, playing on his nightmares even when he tries not to imagine Jongin lying still and unmoving on the hospital bed.

Besides, Junmyeon’s put him on paperwork duty to keep him occupied and get his mind off it.. There’s a lot of documents that went into this entire operation to last him a few days or so.

Kyungsoo tries to keep busy with it but his focus keeps tapering off, staring at his phone every ten seconds, waiting for Junmyeon to call him or at least send a text. Junmyeon does call eventually, some time later. Jongin woke up. He cuts Kyungsoo off in the middle of his demands to see him, saying that strictly no visitors are allowed. The doctors have made that very clear, maintaining that they need to keep him in the ITU to make sure he stabilizes. Kyungsoo sags on his couch when the call ends, feeling an overwhelming wave of shattering relief that Jongin’s alive. Dropping his phone, he presses his hand over his eyes and cries, sobbing even through the pain of his aching rib.

He gets a knock on his door a few days later and Kyungsoo frowns, checking his phone to see if he missed any calls from Junmyeon. Could be the postman, though he doesn’t recall ordering anything himself.

Kyungsoo pulls the door open and his jaw drops to see Jongin standing there right on his doorstep.

“Jongin?” he gapes, taking him in. He’s holding himself up with a crutch and he’s made a mess out of his bandages, of course.

“Hi,” he says, his eyes curving when he smiles and god it’s so good to see it again.

“You were just in the ITU- how did you even get cleared for discharge?” Kyungsoo asks instead.

“I didn’t,” Jongin beams, only a little sheepish. He looks exhausted, worn out from even standing, and the effort looks like it’s sparking up enough pain to have beads of sweat gathering on his forehead but Jongin keeps smiling at him so brightly. His face is still heavily bruised from the beating, all in all looking like he should absolutely be lying down right now instead of being up on his feet.

Right on cue, Kyungsoo hears his phone ringing. Probably Junmyeon freaking out when the doctors reported him missing. He’ll get deal with that in a second.

“Crazy bastard,” Kyungsoo breathes, his hand in the front of Jongin’s jacket and tugs him closer to kiss him. It feels like a culmination of everything since the moment they were teamed up together, pressing everything into his lips, the trust and fear, tenderly kissing his relief against his mouth.

Kyungsoo pulls back and cups Jongin’s face with a gentleness he’s never quite used before. It’s good to see him with colour in his cheeks, beaming down at him with eyes full of life rather than paper white and unresponsive the way he was not so long ago.

“You’ve probably opened up all your stitches,” Kyungsoo chides him fondly, ghosting his fingers over Jongin’s bruised face, trying not to hurt him.

“Probably,” Jongin beams and he’s kissing him again, swaying a little unsteadily on his crutch. Kyungsoo laughs into his mouth, steadying him with a hand on his waist. Jongin’s lip is still busted but his mouth is soft and warm, closing Kyungsoo’s lip between his own. Palming his neck gently, Kyungsoo dips his tongue inside, kissing him with everything he’s got.

“I always knew you were a big softie,”Jongin smiles, and he’s the most beautiful damn thing Kyungsoo has ever seen.

“Shut up,” he grunts, moving his mouth up along Jongin’s cheek bone, brushing his lips over his bruises become coming back down to kiss the corner of his mouth.

He ushers Jongin inside eventually, feeling the fever he’s running to but Jongin won’t stop kissing him and, well. Kyungsoo stopped being able to deny him anything a long time ago. He’ll take him back to the hospital in a minute, needing a bit more time to kiss him silly before he does.