Large doe eyes stared at the younger’s face, scanning over the other male’s prominent cheek bones and thick lips. The last time they’d been lying like this together he’d been admiring much softer features but then again, that was just over a year ago. Who would have known that such a youthful visage could mature so pleasantly in such a short period of time? He really wasn’t one to talk though. No one would think that behind a face like his – one that screamed of innocence on a bed of flowers – hid the head of a gang. It was nothing to be proud of, was the headspace that the said male stood in; not because it was the only chance of survival a street orphan like him had in the unforgiving world and he’d risen from nothing to something. No, Hongbin didn’t regret a single broken bone or shed drop of blood. Those were insignificant sacrifices amongst many more he knew he would have to make in the future. For now, he would have to be mildly satisfied with only police recognition of his criminal activities.

 A soft sound, gentle, deep in tone – a hum – broke him from his thoughts. Though his eyes never once left the sleeping face he found his focus centering on the male in front of him once again. “Hyuk-ah,” his own smooth voice followed after, his calloused fingers caressing the highest ridge of the younger’s left cheek, his lips curling into a smile and giving way to the dimples indented on his cheeks. It was dazzling, from Sanghyuk’s point of view. Much so that it’d caused a dusting of pink to settle on his face. A chain reaction, just the usual, followed from there: Hongbin cooing at the younger’s blush, Sanghyuk whining and trying to fight off the playful teasing, and a tender kiss that left them both breathless and speechless no matter how many times they’d shared the intimate act of affection.

~~~

“Be careful,” Sanghyuk murmured, arm around his lover’s neck and lips so close that each syllable made their lips brush against each other’s feather-light. Hongbin could only nod, his hands resting on the other’s hips, the heat penetrating the thin fabric of the shirt that the other wore and offering him a kind of comfort he’d find nowhere else in the world.

It was still something that Hongbin had a hard time coming to terms with – Sanghyuk’s irrevocable love for him. When they’d first met was the first time that Hongbin had ever felt embarrassed of himself. It’d merely been by coincidence that he saw the smaller (at least he had been back then) male running through the corridor, his screams and sunshine-bright laughter by far standing out from those that belonged to the students that came running after him. It turned out that Sanghyuk was a part of his home economics class, the one he made every effort to not attend. Had he known earlier that the boy was in there from the start, he’d have been living his life just a little bit differently. It really didn’t make all that much of a difference though; sure he’d started attending that particular class but he still found it hard to even approach his object of affection.

“Would you like to work together?” Were the first words Sanghyuk said to him. He remembers the moment clearly; everyone had done their best to avoid him since his gang activities were anything but hidden from the school community. Despite that, the pure-hearted boy had come up to him. The words Hongbin had said back – “forget it” – were one of the few he regretted saying to his lover. He blamed it on the nerves that scrambled every coherent thought process in his mind, making him stick true to his rumoured label of a “cold-blooded gangster”. Then, and even now, he still found it odd how the younger liked to stick to him no matter what.

Those were the thoughts that swam in his mind as he swerved cars and corners on the coarse bitumen streets, the memory replaying in his mind unhindered despite the thunderous rumbling of his motorcycle engine. It was peculiar how numerous shouts of greeting were dampened beneath its unruly roar as he pulled into their hideout but the old scene still flickered so sweetly with that saccharine pink filter over the top like an old movie. He pulled up alongside the other bikes, shedding his helmet as the engine died and gave away to the chattering within the concrete walls of the abandoned factory. The smell of diesel fuel, sweat and cigarettes filled his nose but it was somewhat homely, something he’d grown to find safety and company in.

“Hongbin,” a face appeared to match the voice who called out for his name. Pale skin, feline eyes and thin lips appeared in the edge of his view but he’d grown too accustomed to the man’s sudden and unannounced appearances to be shocked over it anymore. “Taekwoon,” he greeted back with a nod, having to move back half a step. Despite his position as the leader, the older male won by a longshot when it came to obstinacy.

“We had a fight over territory again,” the soft-voice continued on, eyes looking over his addressee’s shoulder before returning them to the face. It wasn’t hard for Hongbin to surmise the rest that was left unsaid; he’d known his right-hand man long enough to read him without a surplus of speech. Rivalry was routine, and so was death, but it didn’t mean that Hongbin had grown inured to it. Especially not if it was from the same ing gang each time. The young leader took a shaky breath, eyes closed for a moment as he suppressed his temper so his volatile anger wouldn’t result in a rash decision that could cause them even more harm. It was a habit he’d slowly learned to pick up with the help of his younger lover, one that he admitted had helped him to save a couple of lives. “Do we still have claim over it?” Hongbin asked once he’d composed his thoughts and sorted his words, round eyes meeting Taekwoon’s sharp ones. A nod of confirmation was the only answer he’d stood around long enough to receive before he made his way to the ash pile – a heap of wood, paper and plastic burned at night for light and warmth that conveniently doubled up as his podium when he needed the attention of all present.

“Until I tell you, we lay low,” was all that he’d said. Apparently it had been enough to rile a roll of reverberations through the numbers as many protested. A look of annoyance crossed over Hongbin’s features just before a gun shot rang through the air, piercing the moans of opposition against him into silence. A prince he may have looked like, but it was all a shell that crumbled under the pressure of his icy interior. “We are too low in numbers. It’s too risky to respond to every threat thrown at us,” he continued on. Where once his arm had been raised, it lowered and along with it followed a faithful bullet, penetrating through the forehead of a rebellious face he had no name to match with. It was tense for a moment before the men began to clear the body, dispersing back to their own matters once the announcement had been declared over (by death). Impulsive, perhaps, but Hongbin could not risk even a sliver of doubt between him and his gang. He had to close his eyes to control the adrenaline that coursed through his blood after the kill as he stepped off the heap. Taekwoon by his side within seconds to update him on the less significant recent happenings.

~~~

It was cringe-worthily cheesy, a scene (as a daily occurrence) that no director would even consider putting in their artistic works. But for Hongbin, nothing could come close to the perfection he worked so hard to protect – A heavy weight assaulted Hongbin’s body as he’d arrived home, followed by an elongated and excited cry of “bean”. He’d been toeing his shoes off so the force of the large body sent him stumbling back a step or two with a soft laugh. His lover reminded him of a puppy of sorts – big in size but small in spirit. “Hello, my love,” he greeted back gleefully, leaning in to brush his lips against Sanghyuk’s plush pair. A gentle giggle was offered in return, an offer than Hongbin ate up in a single bite without hesitation. His arms picked the younger male off the ground, carrying him over to the dining table where a plethora of scents wafted into his nose and soothed his soul, blanketing him with a comfort he’d craved all day. They had their own hands, and those hands held their own utensils but the mouths they fed belonged to the other instead.

“No bruises today,” Sanghyuk said with a hint of pride and self-satisfaction, fingers touching and prodding at Hongbin’s face to make sure his words had stayed true to the nod given by gang leader. It was inevitable – injuries – since Hongbin was a part of a gang, Sanghyuk knew. Though the younger had come to an acceptance about the almost-daily wounds it didn’t mean that he was comfortable with the truth. “Not today,” was Hongbin’s reply, soothing his significant other from his gloomy thoughts. It seemed like the right thing to say when he was rewarded with an indulgent kiss on his cheek. Yes, he’d been satisfied, but there was no such thing as a too much when it came to Sanghyuk’s affection; at least, it was that way to Hongbin. It seemed like the younger shared the same thought when he responded back to the kiss placed on his lips instead, pulling him closer as it grew more intimate.

Unlike other nights, Hongbin was not expecting a call. He’d already made the decision to ignore it on the first buzz but Sanghyuk’s whine callously crumbled his resolve. “What?” Hongbin grumbled irritably to the receiver, his only anchorage to serenity being the nuzzling of Sanghyuk against his bare chest and the knowledge that his lover was contentedly asleep once again. He really wished it’d been his sleep fogged mind that misinterpreted the words, but once the first wave of anger cleared the daze he was sure that he hadn’t misheard a single word – “The hideout is under attack.”

Within minutes Hongbin was out of bed and dressed, a mere step away from dashing out the front door but Sanghyuk’s soft voiced, drenched with slumber, stopped him. “Hyung, where are you going?” He asked, walking up to the older male despite his scrabbling steps as he tried to maneuver his way through the daze of sleep and night-time darkness. Fingers clutched onto the tough fabric of Hongbin’s leather jacket, making him turn around though he regretted it right away. There were a lot of things swimming in Sanghyuk’s eyes: confusion, inquisition, pleading… Hongbin’s pale digits wrapped around the younger’s long ones, gently squeezing them before prying them away from his clothes. With that, he was out of the house, leaving Sanghyuk with the decrescendo of his footsteps as he ran out and down the staircase.

~~~

By the time Hongbin reached the warehouse, smoke was already dancing vigorously out the shattered windows to the music of infuriated screams and cries of agony. He wasn’t thinking properly. He hadn’t been from the moment he’d received the distressing call. His body felt as numb as his brain, his legs leading him straight to the heart of the wreckage. The thriving violence moved around him with a life of its own, tending to its own business as he let the faces flicker through his mind, trying to find one in particular that nurtured a special hatred of its own within him. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, making the pretty gangster even irater than he already was. He couldn’t help but to push the thought in the back of his mind once the enemy started fighting him, choosing to take his anger out on the senseless fighters.

It wasn’t long until he was knocking down body after body, treating each one like a large-sized stress ball in an attempt to diminish his fiery fury. His muscles were burning with exertion, skin littered and sore with cuts and bruises but it didn’t stop him from swinging his fists at whatever body part he could land them on. The shouting around him bleed out to the sound of his own heavy breathing, everything blurring into a soft focus save for what was in his direct line of view. It was his mistake to have gone blind and deaf to his surroundings. His eyes darted around, chaos churning within his blown pupils, catching every nameless person who tried to run past him and pounding his fists against their body until they fell at his feet.

Just as quick as it seemed to start, it all grew stagnant within less than half of that time. The force of a large body pushed him to the ground, then another to make two- three who held the thrashing man down against the blood and ash stained ground. The sensation of metal cuffs restraining his wrists were a wake-up call, drawing a sharp gasp from the doe-eyed fighter as his senses gradually attuned to the swirl of red and blue lights and blaring sirens, to the dozens of live bodies running away in an attempt to escape the uniform and subsequent bars. And the louder and clearer it all got to Hongbin, the heavier he could feel the exhaustion and frustration settle on his shoulders, rendering him useless as he was dragged like a limp rag-doll into the awaiting vehicle; a mobile jail, is what he’d come to deem it as.

The street lights and towering buildings passed by in as much of a blur as the monochrome desks and computers did. The seat felt cold beneath him but he was at least thankful to have a cell on his own. Who knew what he would have done under the influence of both irritation and fatigue? The dark circles under his eyes were mere accessories to the bruises mapped around his face but they seemed to cast an endless shadow as his head dropped against his chest and his lids fluttered, trying to fight the succumber of sleep. How long had he been trapped there…? Hongbin wondered. What would his Sanghyuk be doing right about now? Knowing the younger, he’d probably be as sleep-deprived as he was, harbouring an inconceivable amount of concern. Losing his concept of time, Hongbin was lulled even by the clanging against the metal bars that confined him from the rest of the world, reminded of the banging of metal pipes against each other during a daily brawl; a voice that followed, however roused a ruinous life of its own.

“Fancy seeing you here,” the words jeered, causing the addressee to clench his fists in his lap. What good would it do to vehemently pursue a protected jester? At least, that was his initial thought. A soft click, a bare sound he knew only he was supposed to pick up, was all it took for him to launch himself off his seated posture and at the man who stood on the other side of the bars. There was an equally feral look in both their eyes despite the stark difference in their physical composure – one stood tall, lips graced with a sinister smirk; one crooked, tense, face pulled into a threatening snarl.

“Ravi,” Hongbin cried out with reborn rage, his fist swinging, targeted at the so-called man’s head only to collide with the bars behind him. A hand came around the attacking male’s wrist, fingers harmfully tight with the intention to lock him in place and wound him. With still one hand left, Hongbin aimed another blow at Ravi’s abdomen, this time successfully landing a breath-crushing hit just below his ribs. One hit wasn’t enough; neither was two but the third had been foreseen and avoided with liquid ease in the form of a turn. Pushing Hongbin up against the bars, Ravi took advantage of the other’s stumble and grabbed both arms, pulling them tight behind his back and pinning him against the slotted surface. It was a struggle for both of them – for one to escape, and for one to keep his victim still.

“I hear you have a lover,” Ravi chuckled, offhandedly casual contrary to the menacing undertone of his words. It was enough for Hongbin to go stiff, fear flooding every sense –  every nerve – in his system. A satisfied hum fell from the other’s lips and he tightened his hold, unnecessary but a type of pain he sadistically enjoyed, especially if he was causing it upon his favourite foe. “Sanghyuk, if I remember correctly,” the torturing figure continued on, leeching off the erratic breathing and consistent loss of composure of the immobilised gangster, “he’s quite a looker you know. I wouldn’t mind having a little taste myself, a new toy to play with, you know?”

Those demeaning comments were enough to nurture Hongbin’s wrath, gifting him with a new burst of strength as he broke free and attacked Ravi’s face with a strike to his jaw. It wasn’t expected, sending the hit male staggering back into the opposite wall of the narrow corridor. A mad laughter bubbled up and out of Ravi, Hongbin giving him a look of disgust at the horrid sound. The man was more ed up than he thought he was. Hongbin’s eyes widen as he saw the other pull out a black, hand-held device – a radio – and speak into it, “I need back up to the containment cell. We have an offender escaped and hostile. He’s on the run now.” A fanatical grin twisted Ravi’s face when he heard Hongbin’s sharp intake of air and the feet thumping against the plastic flooring. His hand continued to aid his injured jaw as he followed along the same path the other had taken; unlike Hongbin, Ravi was in no rush. If anything, the more time he took, the more joy he would return with.

The wind was cold and icy against Hongbin’s face but it was nothing compared to the monster that clenched his heart. Fear was in control of him, commanding each step and each laboured breath as he ran hurriedly to the abode he shared with Sanghyuk. What if Ravi’s men had gotten him already? What if they hurt him? His thoughts must have drowned out the pounding steps he climbed up, but his younger lover must have been expecting him from those alone. “Hongbin-” Sanghyuk called after the older man, only to be shoved aside and ignored. Stubborn as ever, he darted after the panicking male hoping he could offer him some comfort and love. What he hadn’t expected as he walked into their room, was to find Hongbin by the bed, aiming a gun straight at him. Although the older man’s arm was trembling a little, and his eyes seemed to be fogged with tears. Sanghyuk couldn’t help but freeze in the presence of the alloy weapon.

“Get out,” Hongbin said, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper, quivering with a distress that Sanghyuk had trouble understanding. Instead, Sanghyuk had taken a step closer, determined despite the nervous drops of sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. A scream resonated with the murderous bang of a gunshot, forcing Sanghyuk to fall to the ground and curl up for his own protection. It seemed pointless, though, when he felt fingers threading into this hair and pull him. The pain, both physical and emotional, blinded the young man, drawing only louder cries from him until he found himself at the front door with the weapon pointed at his face again. “I said get out,” came Hongbin’s voice again, this time as chilling as he voidness on his face.

“H-Hongbinnie,” Sanghyuk whimpered, his body frozen as he tried force himself to do something, to move. Another scream tore out of his throat when the bullet broke the tiles not centimetres from his body. Sanghyuk didn’t know what hurt more as he finally scrambled up and bolted out the door, away from the man who held his heart – that the love of his life had tried to kill him or, when he felt his heart disintegrate at the words “I’m sick of you” come out of his mouth.

There were arms around Sanghyuk’s body as he threw himself out the entrance of the apartment complex. He trashed around, still fearful for his life, barely processing the calming words spoken by a deep voice beside his ear. It wasn’t until he felt those arms moves to grab his face instead, warm hands and thick fingers framing his cheeks and jaw, did he stop to take in his situation. Though his mind was still fighting to process the happenings back at his apartment, he could just make out the police uniform decked by the figure who caught him on the run. “My name is Kim Wonshik. I’m a police officer. I received a call regarding concerns about an assault. I assume that you were the victim?” The officer both informed and asked him. The shaking boy stayed mum though his eyes watered. Wonshik took it as a makeshift “yes”.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore. I will bring you back to the station and you’ll be safe there,” Wonshik said, this time more gently as he guided the weeping man to his vehicle. The sobs seemed to grow, wracking through Sanghyuk’s body by the time he was seated in the car. He leaned against the cold barrier, his body curling in on himself. A jolt shocked him as he heard more gun shots ricochet off the back of the moving vehicle, his hand clutching at his chest in an attempt to sooth his bleeding heart. He was sure that he’d died the moment Hongbin had said those words to him; the confusion as to why he could still feel only serving to crush his spirit to dust.