Trigger warning: brief panic attack

___

The ride home was quite unpleasant, but thankfully Junhong and Jongup argued only halfway.

Since Youngjae was blindfolded again, he had no choice but to listen to their argument.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Jongup was saying, not quite yelling, but very loudly.

“What? Doing what? Pointing out the facts?” Junhong replied, equally as upset. Youngjae had never before heard him shout.

“No, I mean—Why are you being so immature? Why are you still afraid if he’s dead? You said it yourself!”

“And why do you live in the past?” Junhong snapped. “You knew he was dead even before you asked Youngjae for the files, so why did you ask!? You only wasted everyone’s time!”

Youngjae would have rolled his eyes were they not closed under the fabric. He hated being dragged into their stupid fight, although he was glad not to have anything more to do with the whole thing.

When they went quiet, Youngjae realized that as annoying as it had been, the fight was at least some sort of entertainment. This time, however he knew better than to talk to annoy them.

He only had the blindfold taken off when the car was parked. Jongup shoved him out and went into the house before anyone else.

Youngjae stood in front of Himchan and lifted his hands. “We’re home. These go off as well?”

Himchan sighed and dived the small key out of his pocket. Youngjae took note of the fact that Himchan was the key-bearer.

Once his hands were free, Youngjae stretched and threw a glance behind himself. He caught glimpse of Yongguk leaving the car and immediately felt infuriated. No particular reason – perhaps it was the repressed anger from the course of four days.

Youngjae let Himchan push him forward, but he purposely dragged his feet, trying to stay behind. Good thing Himchan was patient or his plan wouldn’t have worked. He waited for the place to clear out as much as possible, meaning he waited for Daehyun and Junhong to go upstairs before he acted.

Him and Yongguk were now close enough. Youngjae elbowed Himchan in the chest, just to throw him off, then kicked him in the gut for good measure. Then he turned and stepped towards Yongguk.

The older was quick to react, ducking when Youngjae tried to reach for him. But Youngjae didn’t stumble, rather he used one missed opportunity to create another. Before Yongguk straightened up again Youngjae took the back of his shirt and brought his knee up, knocking the breath out of Yongguk.

 Himchan was at that point well recovered and on his way towards the two. Before he reached them, Youngjae had Yongguk in a choke hold. He stepped back, tugging the older along.

“I just want to talk,” Youngjae said softly, although it was very tempting to squeeze the life out of Yongguk then and there.

Of course that wouldn’t be possible. Himchan may not have been the best fighter but he wasn’t helpless. And Youngjae was unarmed while both of them were.

Speaking of which, Himchan remembered to draw his gun, but of course it was useless at that point. It was quite convenient that Yongguk was taller than Youngjae and covered him nicely.

“What do you want?” When he spoke, Yongguk didn’t sound angry, let alone scared. He sounded tired.

“I want my room,” Youngjae spat.

Himchan’s posture relaxed a fraction, out of surprise. He blinked, looking to Yongguk for an explanation.

“N had said that they might need me again,” Youngjae said, glaring at Himchan. “Which means that I’ll be staying here, presumably alive, for a while longer. I have no intention of staying in that rotten basement, so.” He raised his eyebrows at Himchan.

“You’re in no position to make demands,” Himchan said sharply, once again tensing up.

“Weird, that’s what Yongguk-ssi said too. But you know I’m not gonna give up. I can do this all day,” Youngjae cooed.

The weird thing was that Yongguk was hardly struggling. Perhaps Youngjae had underestimated his exhaustion or, the option that was quite insulting to Youngjae, he simply didn’t care.

“Let me go,” Yongguk said in a monotone voice.

“Not until—“

“You’ll get your ing room,” Yongguk said with slight irritation in his tone; the most emotion he displayed so far. “Let me go, I have more important things to worry about than your comfort.”

“You better do it or I’m gonna make a mess,” Youngjae hummed, not letting go yet.

“Oh, what will you do?” Himchan asked almost laughing at the silliness of Youngjae’s statement.

“Your guards are unreliable and so are your locks,” Youngjae said simply. Which was true.

The security of the house itself and around it may have been impenetrable, but that old door sure as hell wasn’t. After all, it wasn’t the door or the guards that were keeping Youngjae in, it was mostly Nahyun.

Himchan seemed to realize this also. Youngjae may not have been able to escape, but getting out of the basement and making a show seemed possible enough.

He sighed and lowered his gun. “Are we really doing this?”

Yongguk shrugged.

Youngjae let go of him slowly. He was hardly phased. He fixed his coat and shirt, starting to walk away.

This nonchalance was something Youngjae couldn’t handle. One last wave of rage washed over him and he reached for Yongguk, turning him around forcefully. Youngjae tried to punch him but Yongguk dodged and grabbed him by the arm and kicked him in the chest.

The impact was enough to make Youngjae fall back and slide across the floor a few centimetres.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Yongguk said before walking away.

* * *

With how furious he was that night, Youngjae was surprised he even fell asleep. Unfortunately, he was back at the basement. He thought he would go crazy in there, no matter how spacious it was he felt the walls closing in on him, the darkness suffocating him.

It reminded him far too much of the space he was kept in when Jackson had kidnapped him, where he felt his sanity slowly slipping away until he was picked up.

“Luck is on your side! Your friends are coming for you.”

Youngjae was slipping away again. Not even Daehyun visited; he had nothing to keep his mind off of the memories.

 

He dreamed of Jackson’s gang, how they had fun filming the video for Dobong-gu. The memories were vivid, too vivid. Youngjae could nearly feel it all again, his jaw cracking, his shattered collarbone and caved ribs. He saw and heard it clearly, them laughing at Youngjae’s attempts to fight back.

“Cute.”

They called him that a lot.

It used to be a compliment for Youngjae, but now it just made him sick.

 

He woke up with a sore throat. The humiliating realization hit him – he’d screamed in his sleep. And he realized that perhaps it was good he hadn’t gotten his room right away.

It took them a good two days to come and get him. Youngjae was quite relieved that it was Junhong who came to take him upstairs.

“We just had to make a few adjustments,” the younger was saying casually as if he was talking about redecorating.

Youngjae knew better. He was not surprised to see that the door had a few more locks than the last time he’d been there. And as bizarre as it was, the barred window also didn’t surprise him.

Youngjae did not expect to feel nostalgia as he glanced around the room. He didn’t expect to be saddened by how empty it seemed, unused with all of his belongings removed.

He really tried to talk himself out of it, he tried hard, but he lost the battle in the end. The past haunted him too much and he didn’t want to risk it again.

“Junhongie?”

The younger stopped at the door and slowly turned around. He seemed wary, perhaps the nickname startled him. “Yeah…?”

“You aren’t… Forbidden from seeing me, are you?” Youngjae asked slowly.

Junhong took a moment to think about the answer. He glanced back out the door as if checking if they were alone. “We haven’t outright talked about it, but I imagine the hyungs wouldn’t be happy about it,” he said hesitantly. “Why?”

“Just… I suppose I could use some company in here.”

The silence stretched out as yet again Junhong thought about his reply. “They wouldn’t want me to get comfortable with you. And I think I wouldn’t want that either.”

Youngjae raised an eyebrow. “Because you’re an easy target?”

Junhong gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the doorknob.

“I don’t think you are, but that’s what you’re implying,” Youngjae added.

“Sorry, hyung. You can’t be trusted, not with what you’ve done,” Junhong said quietly.

“You sound like you rehearsed that answer,” Youngjae said, but before Junhong could snap at him he continued, “However, my intentions aren’t nearly as sinister as you probably think.” He crossed his arms. “Junhongie, do you know how easy it is to go crazy in solitary confinement?”

Junhong frowned. He likely couldn’t figure out what connection this had to their conversation. “No…”

“It’s really ing easy. Of course it depends on the conditions and the individual, and it isn’t impossible to recover, but it does take a tool on the brain and the senses. I don’t know if you realize, but that’s more or less what you’re doing to me.”

Junhong seemed petrified when it finally clicked.

“I hope you understand now that I didn’t ask for my room because I’m spoiled or because I’m planning to get comfortable. It’s just that in a dark basement with no windows it’s difficult to keep track of time. One starts to think too much and sees things.” Youngjae shrugged. “It wasn’t that bad I suppose, not with Daehyun taking me out once a day and coming to hang out every now and then, but I’m just saying.”

Junhong stayed quiet, averting his gaze. He was still thinking, clearly trying to find the best way to respond to this.

“I’m not trying to guilt trip you, Junhongie. It would just be nice to have someone to talk to or at least a book to read. And you’re the only one who I don’t want to rip apart at the moment, so.”

Junhong’s gaze snapped up and he took a step back. He was hesitant, clearly shaken up by the story but still careful. “I… I’ll think about it.” With that he was gone.

 

As Youngjae was left to ponder, one fact became evident. It was good news and bad news at the same time and he found it ridiculously ironic.

He would not be spending that much time in this confinement. He would only be there as long as N and his buddies needed him. This was good news.

The bad news was that once they didn’t need him anymore, he would be dead.

And so Youngjae started contemplating the idea of escape much more persistently than before. Helping them with their little mission was excuse enough to keep himself alive, hell he could even pretend to be invested, but at one point or another running away would become crucial.

So he thought. Getting out of the house on his own was hardly possible because of Nahyun. Her security was impeccable and she was ruthless. She wouldn’t hesitate to shoot on sight, not even if it got her into trouble for killing their source of information. Other than that she was an excellent shot, she could, if she wanted, just paralyze Youngjae while keeping him alive.

Furthermore, excluding Nahyun and the occasional teen guards that came and went, the house had five nearly permanent residents. Nearly all the time at least one of them was home.

All of this made it impossible to escape from the house.

However…

Were he to be taken out, say, for a meeting where he’d be needed to provide with some sort of information, Youngjae was sure he would be able to snatch a chance to get away.

And yes, he was quite angry with himself for not having thought of it earlier. This way he would have to wait for the next opportunity. In his defence, he had many other things to worry about and also had no idea where he was even being taken.

At this point in time however, he knew where he would be going and who would have the key to the handcuffs that he’d be wearing.

It would be risky considering the fact he would be in the company of ten men who definitely wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through him, but unfortunately he would have to leave things to chance and hope to get a good opportunity.

This frustrated Youngjae of course; he hated leaving things to chance and not having a solid plan and he didn’t want his life to depend on faith, but at the moment he could do no better.

He had to wait.

 

There were a couple of things making his wait better. Firstly, Junhong seemed to have made up his mind about visiting Youngjae and the decision was in Youngjae’s favour. They mostly hung out during the day, either watching something or chatting about stupid things, though Junhong couldn’t quite relax even as they did so. Youngjae knew that he was afraid to slip up.

Secondly, Daehyun also kept coming over, usually drunk, usually at night. He whined about his meds not working, about how he just wanted to sleep. With this Youngjae couldn’t help him. He could no less make Daehyun’s insomnia go away than Daehyun could make Youngjae’s nightmares go away.

And thirdly, Youngjae kept himself occupied by trying to figure out Daehyun’s secret.

He didn’t have much to go off aside from things he caught accidentally and a lot of assumptions. He’d been suspicious ever since the meeting, but there were a few things that really tipped him off.

One night Daehyun and him were lying on Youngjae’s bed, downing a bottle of something from Yongguk’s liquor cabinet.

Youngjae wasn’t even listening to Daehyun’s drunken rambles, he was only thinking about how angry Yongguk would be when he found out. It made him smile to himself like an idiot.

And then something Daehyun said caught Youngjae’s attention.

“... And I just wanna go home but I can’t because of Jongup storming off the other day and the hyungs won’t be happy if I bring it up...”

Youngjae shifted, lifting his head off Daehyun’s shoulder. “Why—“ He got dizzy and needed a moment to stabilize himself. “Jongup stormed off? Why?”

Daehyun shook his head, which turned out not to be a good idea because he also got dizzy from it. “Yeah, he—him and Junhongie have been fighting. Maybe it’s better that he’s gone,” Daehyun slurred.

For a second Youngjae’s mind cleared up enough for him to say sharply, “Jongup would never hurt Junhong.”

Yeah, maybe Jongup hated Youngjae and threatened to kill him every other day, but this much he knew. He loved Junhong.

Daehyun frowned. “Wha—No, I know that. I just think they both need to calm down.”

Youngjae nodded absently. “Does their fight have anything to do with Kunpimook Bhuwakul?”

“Stop that,” Daehyun muttered.

“Fine, fine. We don’t have to talk about that. Let’s talk about something else.” Youngjae yawned and flopped back against Daehyun. “Tell me why you wanna go home.”

Daehyun rolled his eyes. “Because it’s my ing apartment and I need to get laid.”

Youngjae huffed and closed his eyes. “You’re not that type hyung.”

“What do you know about my type?” If he hadn’t been so faced perhaps Daehyun would have sounded angry.

“I just know that this... This thing you’re selling... Different person every night, that’s not you,” Youngjae muttered, once again yawning.

“You know , Yoo Youngjae,” Daehyun muttered.

 

He was woken up early in the morning by a hushed voice outside the door. In the gravely silence of the house, Youngjae could hear the voice clearly no matter how soft.

However, his mind was still asleep so he wasn’t quite registering what he was hearing.

“... I know, I’m sorry. We’ll make it work, we always do. I know... I know. I want that too, but it’s just not possible at the moment. I can get out for a day... Two maybe? But they need me here right now. I’m really sorry. I’ll call you. I’m sorry love.”

The last thing Youngjae remembered before falling back asleep was Daehyun coming back into the room and putting a blanket over him.

 

Youngjae was woken up again after noon by Junhong who’d brought food and his laptop; watching dramas was the safest activity for the two since it left little room for wider discussion, therefore prevented Junhong from saying something he shouldn’t.

On Youngjae’s insisting they mostly stuck to the crime and mystery genre because Youngjae desperately needed something to solve.

Which reminded him... Somewhere along the way he trailed off from the drama he was watching and thought back to the bit of the conversation he had overheard. That was the first time its meaning hit him, since he had been too drunk and too tired to make any sense of it that morning.

It meant that Youngjae’s suspicions were correct. Daehyun was indeed dating someone and hiding it from everyone else.

 

He used this to keep himself awake at night and avert his thoughts from Jackson’s gang or Yongguk. He tried to figure out who was it that Daehyun was dating.

But immediately as he tried to eliminate any possible solutions from within the group he hit a wall. If it was someone from the group, why would he be hiding it? It had to be someone outside and since Youngjae didn’t know many of Daehyun’s friends, it was impossible to determine. It could have been anymore. And yet if it was some random person the same question stood; why would he need to hide? To maintain his heart-breaker image? It was unlikely.

In fact, it was much more likely that he was putting up that whole act to hide his relationship, not the other way around.

Youngjae wasn’t a quitter but at the moment he truly didn’t have enough information. He sighed and stared at the ceiling where the lights from the street outside his window made shadows dance. The traffic light turned red and filled the room with its faint hue.

Red. Youngjae closed his eyes. Red. He thought back to Ravi’s flame coloured hair, to the clicking of his dice. Red. The red handkerchief Hyuk had worn around his neck.

Youngjae wasn’t sure why, but one particular scene that stuck with him now played out in his head. It was just a second, so subtle and quick that he himself had barely caught it.

But he remembered it vividly, like he remembered everything else; Hyuk’s nervousness that dissolved when they came through the door, him running Daehyun’s way and stopping to give a sharp bow, before pushing past him to greet Junhong.

Of course. How had it not occurred to him before?

Suddenly it made sense why Daehyun would have to hide his relationship. Despite the fact that everyone else seemed to be pretty good friends, there was a certain tension at least among the leaders. They were supposed to hate each other.

Youngjae’s lips stretched into a smirk as he complimented his own intellect.

 

The next day when Daehyun walked in he wasn’t carrying any alcohol, only a pack of cigarettes and a bag of chips.

He threw the chips on the bed beside Youngjae as he entered. Youngjae took the bag, eyeing Daehyun cautiously.

“You’ve found another way to poison yourself,” he remarked.

Daehyun grimaced. “I need a break after what happened the other night. Also hyung found out I stole from him.”

Youngjae tried to suppress the self satisfied smile that was threatening to appear on his lips. “Was he mad?”

“Hardly. He’s really out of it these days.” As Daehyun moved to sit on the bed, Youngjae placed his foot on his and pushed him off.

“Your is free to go to the window and stay there if you’re going to do that indoors,” he said sharply, glaring at Daehyun.

Daehyun made a rather childish mocking expression at Youngjae, but did as told anyway. He sat on the windowsill and lit a cigarette. While he relaxed that way, Youngjae figured it was as good time as any to bring his observations into the light.

“So,” he spoke up. “How long have you been dating Hyuk?”

Daehyun dropped his cigarette right onto his arm and yelped in pain, shaking it off. He looked sorrowfully after it as it fell out the window. With a sigh, Daehyun took out another one. He spoke only after it was lift and between his lips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Calmly.

“I mean it was pretty obvious,” Youngjae continued as if Daehyun had said absolutely nothing. “I know you were trying to keep a low profile, but seriously? Not acknowledging each other the entire time? Not one word, not even one glance his way? You might as well have canoodled him in front of everyone.”

Daehyun audibly cracked his knuckles. “Stop it.”

“I know it’s difficult, but you’re trying too hard. Oh, and your excuse about going home is paper thin. Also, I think the others are not as stupid as you think, I’m pretty sure they know about it by now, but if you really want to hide it I suggest—“

“I said stop! Seriously, do you ever mind your own ing business?”

Youngjae sat up and looked at Daehyun under the brow. “Hyung. I am in this ing room at least 23 hours a day. What did you expect? I’m bored. I need something to think about. And honestly this is the least harmful thing to keep me busy. There are a number of other issues I could have chosen to look into, like that whole thing about Kunpimook Bhuwakul—“

“He went by BamBam so stop using his name,” Daehyun snapped.

“Fine, BamBam. I’m really curious to know how he’s connected to Junhongie and Jongup, or I could be figuring out why Himchan hates N so much or what the is Yongguk’s problem—“

“You’re his problem, you moron! Did your last brain cell die when you shoved that badge in his face? I know you’re not stupid so you’re either pretending to be or you’re in severe mothering denial. You know he actually—Never mind.”

The atmosphere changed quickly. Youngjae’s hands were suddenly shaking, itching to hit something. Perhaps it was the lack of space that made his blood boil and his heart beat faster because he did not care. Talking about Yongguk couldn’t get him this angry.

He stood up from the bed with his fists clenched. Daehyun stood up from the windowsill and walked over, cigarette still in hand.

“If you tell anyone—“

“I bet my they already know,” Youngjae cut in. “You’re underestimating their intellect.”

“I don’t care!”

Youngjae flinched. Daehyun rarely ever raised his voice in such manner. He yelled a lot, but it was all good fun.

“I don’t care,” Daehyun repeated. “If you tell anyone I swear to God I’ll kill you. See if N or Yongguk or anyone else will stop me.”

He pushed pass Youngjae with a petty nudge to the shoulder.

Daehyun hadn’t even yelled that loudly but Youngjae’s ears were ringing. He lost balance quickly; in no time he was on his knees trying to remember how to breathe.

“Hyung...”

The voice barely reached him. Youngjae couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own heartbeat and the pained noises that were ripping his lungs.

Out of nowhere, he felt himself being brought into an upright position. There were suddenly hands on his knees and a voice somewhere in front of him. Youngjae blinked hard while trying to focus on it.

Four, eight, seven. He was pretty sure he’d remembered it wrong.

Youngjae pushed Junhong away and wiped his eyes. “I’m fine!” He did not sound fine.

Junhong didn’t let himself be swayed. He stayed by Youngjae’s side until he was breathing normally and no longer shaking.

“Do you need anything?” Junhong asked quietly.

Youngjae hugged his knees and curled up. He shook his head. “No.”

“If you need to talk—“

“No.”

A pause. Youngjae knew that Junhong didn’t like to see others suffering. His usual tactics included cuddling for the soul, but since Youngjae was currently refusing physical contact the younger didn’t know what to do.

“What are you afraid of?” Junhong mumbled.

“Nothing! Nothing.” Youngjae curled in on himself and pressed his forehead to his knees. “The past can’t hurt me.”