brief mentions of torture

It’s their second date. That night in the car wasn’t counted as one, as Yifan stated so in text messages. Junmyeon isn’t sure what to wear so, he pulls on a white jumper that has lettering on it and pairs it with jeans. 

Once his phone buzzes, he scrambles outside in an instant. He stops by the doorstep after spotting a foreign car in front of the house. It’s not the usual limousine. Junmyeon is uncertain whether it’s the drug lord or not so, he waits. 

The window rolls down, and Yifan gives a short wave. Junmyeon jogs to the vehicle right away. “Hey,” Yifan greets before fastening the seatbelt for him. “Hi,” Junmyeon replies quietly with his heart speeding up. He hopes the drug lord doesn’t hear anything.

They don’t speak after that, jazz music filling in the pleasant silence. Junmyeon doesn’t know where they’re heading so, he decides to rest his eyes. It’s been a hectic day in the hospital, after all.

A few gentle shakes on his shoulder awakens him. Junmyeon can’t believe he has drifted off to sleep. “M’ sorry,” He slurs, his spectacles being pushed up to his forehead as he rubs his eyes awake.

Yifan simply waves it off with a soft smile, inwardly cooing at how adorable the surgeon is. Junmyeon takes a glance at the surroundings. The drowsiness ebbs away once he realizes they’re at Yifan’s penthouse. Junmyeon swallows.

He struggles not to let the memories of that night from arising. He’s about to get down from the car, but Yifan halts him from doing so. He does as he’s told despite being in confusion. Yifan heads for the back before he returns.

The taller opens the door for him. Junmyeon feels himself warming up just by the simple gesture. He stands in front of the drug lord, the door still wide open. Yifan seems to be fidgeting, not having their eyes meet. 

Junmyeon’s head tilts slightly at the latter’s odd behavior. “These are for you,” Yifan mumbles, bringing forth the bouquet, which he hid behind his back. The doctor stares at it blankly. A few seconds pass in complete silence. 

Junmyeon still hasn’t retrieved the flowers. 

Shame floods Yifan. He will have to shoot Chanyeol’s later for taking up the advice. Junmyeon clutches onto the base of the bouquet just when Yifan is about to dig a hole for himself to hide inside. 

Yifan observes the surgeon closing his eyes before smelling the white camellias, white gardenias, and white lilies. Ethereal. He looks like an angel. A bunny angel. Their eyes lock, and Junmyeon’s cheeks are adorably flushed a little as he says in a soft shy voice, “Thank you.” 

Yifan melts. Maybe he doesn’t have to shoot Chanyeol’s . Grabbing onto his waist gently, he swoops in for a kiss. It ends short because the doctor’s glasses become a distraction. Yifan pulls away sullenly, staring at the blushing Junmyeon. 

“Um, can I put this inside? They seem expensive and I don’t want to ruin them…” 

Yifan slowly lets him go. After that, he leads the surgeon inside for dinner. A candlelit dinner by the floor-to-ceiling window with a view of the night city. Junmyeon feels so shy until he can’t utter a single thing. He wasn’t expecting such a romantic ambiance from the drug lord.

“Uh, I don’t cook that often, but I hope it suits your tastebuds,” Yifan removes the lids, and the waft of the food itself makes Junmyeon’s mouth water. The house is also filled with soft jazz as they dig in, the sound of utensils accompanying the comfortable silence.

“You’re a nice cook,” Junmyeon remarks with a sweet smile after cleaning his plate of chicken pasta. Soft pink colors Yifan’s cheeks by the compliment. He sips on the white wine to hide any evident flush on his face.

But his cheeks get warmer because Junmyeon keeps staring, so he gets up, “I-I’ll bring the dessert now.” The dark chocolate crème brulee also tastes magnificent. Junmyeon is so entranced by the dessert until he doesn’t realize the fond smile from Yifan on him.

“Thank you, Yifan. I really enjoyed your cooking,” Junmyeon beams. Yifan’s heart is aching with affection. He doesn’t smile, but he nods instead, but Junmyeon clearly knows the drug lord is shy.

The slight pink on the cheeks is the proof. He stifles a giggle. “I’ll clean them later,” Yifan tugs the smaller by the waist once the doctor is about to pile the plates to clean the table, “Let’s head outside.” Junmyeon blinks up at the taller. Is he not going to sleep with him?

As soon as they step outside the penthouse, Junmyeon doesn’t know why he feels relieved. Well, to be honest, he isn’t ready to face another intimate night with Yifan yet. He wants to get to know the drug lord, and it seems like the latter is mutual about it.

Junmyeon is so, so moved. He leans his head a little into the taller’s chest. Yifan holds in the urge to squish the surgeon. They stand behind his Ferrari, which is facing the night city. Junmyeon gapes at the landscape with awe, entranced once again by the blinding lights from afar. 

He remembers the scenery from that night, and warmth crawls up to his neck. Before the rest of that night’s memories arise, Yifan succeeds in catching his attention by holding his hand. “Do you like the view?” Junmyeon peers up to Yifan before shifting his sight to the city, “Yes… It’s so beautiful.” 

Yifan turns his head to glance at the surgeon from the side, but he ends up gazing at the male. He watches how the ends of Junmyeon’s hair flutter against the wind, how his skin glistens by the lights from the city, and how his eyes twinkle with pure innocence.

Yifan is so enchanted. 

“I didn’t want us to be out in public,” Yifan turns his body, and Junmyeon does the same so that they’re facing each other. Yifan keeps his hold on the shorter’s hand. He continues, rolling his eyes as he recalls the people from the amusement park, “Considering it was uncomfortable with people staring at us like no tomorrow.” 

Junmyeon’s brows widen. The drug lord noticed it was uncomfortable? Junmyeon looks down at his shoes, holding in a wide stupid smile. Yifan does realize the little things. That’s so considerate of him, considering most mafias are deemed to be… ruthless.

“We caught the guy who followed us that night,” Yifan declares, and there’s dread in the orbs staring back at him. He chuckles softly at the reaction. Yifan knows what the surgeon has on his mind, so he calms Junmyeon, “Don’t worry. We didn’t kill him. Have to keep him alive until he spills who he’s working for.” 

Junmyeon goes silent, wondering who that man can be. He shouldn’t be surprised if that man is aiming for Yifan. He’s a drug lord, after all. It’s natural for a mafia to have enemies, right? There might be endless of them lingering around the town just to get a sight of this man.

As he turns worried for Yifan’s safety, a pair of strong hands carry him by the hips. An involuntary squeak leaves his lips out of surprise. His lands on something solid. Junmyeon peers down to see he’s sitting on the boot of Yifan’s sports car. 

He rushes to get down because this vehicle must be worth a whole lot, but he stops moving once his eyes meet a smiling Yifan. Their heights are almost the same, with Junmyeon only a few inches taller.

Warmth hits his face, completely caught off guard by how affectionate the taller’s orbs are. “Are you comfortable?” Junmyeon nods. Yifan parts his legs wide before the taller stands in between them, his strong hands settling on his hips. Junmyeon blushes like crazy.

“Is this okay for you?”

Junmyeon nods his head again mutely, unable to look at Yifan in the eyes by the proximity. “Hey.” He pouts without intention once Yifan elevates his face with his finger under his chin. Yifan is stunned.

The surgeon looks ing adorable. Like a rabbit. He would have been a real rabbit if he only had the rabbit ears. He brings his face near to Junmyeon. He gazes at the plump lips, which look so kissable ever since he met the cute surgeon. Junmyeon does the same.

He timidly tugs onto Yifan’s shirt, urging him to come closer. Just when their lips are about to touch, a sudden breeze passes by the pair. Junmyeon closes his eyes as he shivers, hugging himself with his arms.

He regrets not wearing a jacket before he left the house. Something warm secures across his shoulders seconds later. He glimpses at the outwear around him before at Yifan. The male looks so worried, checking him everywhere.

“Feeling warm now?”

Junmyeon clutches the leather jacket around him even more, nodding silently. This jacket was the same as that night. “I have another one at the backseat—” Junmyeon tugs hard onto the hem of the other’s black shirt, startling both, “You, um, yo-you can use me to warm yourself…”

Yifan gawks at the surgeon. Is he thinking what Junmyeon is thinking? That he’ll be sleeping with him tonight? 

“I don’t want to use you, Doc. That sounds so wrong,” He cradles Junmyeon’s cheek tenderly, but Junmyeon isn’t looking at him, probably embarrassed. He leans in, brushing his upper lip against Junmyeon’s.

He raises the surgeon’s face even higher, “I’m not going to sleep with you tonight, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Junmyeon locks eyes with the drug lord, blinking. “Uh, you, I,” Yifan stammers, which is so unlike of him.

He leans away while rubbing his nape, which is getting warm with each second, “I don’t want this to be only based on . I