The most uncomfortable part about being a cop is not having to face blood-chilling criminals, it is not the fear of getting hurt or killed. No. It’s the helmet and nobody can ever tell Jongdae otherwise. The heavy, metal-coated bowl is covering his hair and his face equally well and while he knows that during active duty, it will probably save his life some day, carrying this thing around is still the least favorite thing of the young man. His bulletproof ‘armor’ is quite alright once he gets used to it. But never the helmet.

Still, the heavy thing covering his head is nothing compared to the pounding in his chest right now. They have planned and trained for this exact moment for more than half a year. His unit is prepared for whatever is going to happen during the next hour, better than they could ever be. So it is Jongdae’s right to feel quite nervous as he is sitting in the passenger seat of one of their vans. A microphone is responsible for carrying his voice to all of his other troops since each of them have a little button in their ear to receive orders. And orders are what he will deliver once they are inside the house that has its location only 30 feet from Jongdae’s current position.

It is 2 in the morning and Jongdae is already sporting the headache of the century.

Sighing so silent that hopefully nobody will hear, Jongdae closes his eyes for a second. Everything will be alright in the end, he is sure of it. Yet that knowledge doesn’t stop him from freaking out about each and every possible scenario playing inside his head of maneuvers going wrong, of people dying, of a certain person getting badly injured.

Yet there is nothing he can do about it now. He is prepared, too, better than anybody else. And as the head of this operation, he will get through with it perfectly.

Taking one last deep breath, Jongdae gives the order to all of his men to get going.

Minseok is totally calm as he watches the clock, as if he is waiting for the pizza man to finally arrive. Contrary to how the atmosphere normally is – loud, boisterous and obnoxious – everybody there with him is strangely quiet for once. Sure, all of them know what is about to come for them and they know how to deal with it but there is nothing pleasing about getting busted by the police. At least this time Minseok had the plan of the forces that will try to overwhelm him and his…organization… so he knows what to do and what he shouldn’t do. Or who to keep away and who to push into the arms of armed police officers.

He tries not to think about the embrace of a certain policeman that he would love to feel right now, even that means that he would be strangled in front of his self-appointed family. Yet he hopes that it doesn’t come to that. At least not until he is in bed later that night.

This is exactly the thought he clings onto as he watches the minutes pass by.

Right when the clock strikes two, there is a kick delivered to the backdoor.

From then on, everything happens in the matter of what seems like a mere second.

His own family opens the fire, just like they have been told. Never once has Minseok had even a single of them not following his commands, and that is for a good reason. While he is a fair and a damn smart man – scratching on the surface of being a genius – he also is strict and cold when things don’t go his (that means the right) way. Every one of his orders is taken out precisely and without asking question of why and how. Which is why two of his people, the ones he has commanded to throw themselves into the blizzard of bullets, are ripped apart by countless metal pieces riddling them. Another one almost throws himself at one officer’s feet to be handcuffed and arrested when all of this is over. But most of his people stay safe and sound behind bulletproof pieces of furniture or walls.

One by one disappears from the surface, invisible for the police force who is still firing away like they are reenacting the second world war. There is a tunnel under this house, leading away from it like a maze to countless places where Minseok’s family is safe and sound. Nobody but them know which paths to take but it is not like the police will ever know of that labyrinth anyway since Minseok knows one man who will make sure that this secret stays safe for as long that male stays in the top position of the special unit who is trying to destroy Minseok’s organization.

That man is in one of the top positions, right in the middle of the shooting men. Leading while being in the front row. Completely out in the open yet not one of Minseok’s men even aim closely in his direction. All of them know the consequences if they dared to even point at the male with as much as their bare finger.

The same unspoken rule doesn’t apply to Jongdae’s unit though it seems. Being the captain he is, Minseok is the last one to run from one side of the door to the other to leave the sinking ship as fast as possible.

Jongdae is a trained professional, on top of his game even if it is in the middle of the night after a raid that has seemingly all energy out of him. Yet even like this, when his eyes are about to fall shut against his will, when he can barely stand without swaying and is about to fall asleep on the spot – Jongdae’s reflexed still kick in on their own. The hand that has grasped his weapon tightens around the heavy steel while his pointer finger follows the well-known curve of trigger. It is only a twitch of the digit but it is enough to make the gun fire away.

This is only a small action that Jongdae has performed countless times, with or without thinking about it, so he could do it even if he was on his death bed. It seems to be a fitting metaphor thinking about it this way, Jongdae guesses when he becomes aware of who exactly he has shot as soon as the bullet actually hits a moving target. He would recognize the shape of the body, although it is hidden under clothes and safety garments, or the color of the unruly hair that flies and bobs as the owner of said strands runs and trembles as soon as there is a hole punched through his skin. With a deep sigh, Jongdae hangs his head and tries not to think about the fact that he has just shot his boyfriend. He will never hear the end of this.

After such a great operation there is always lots and lots of paperwork, so many questionings and other bureaucratic to do. Of course, Jongdae could give some of it to his team but that would mean keeping them from their homes even longer than strictly necessary and while he knows that his workers are always willing to help him, he also knows that quite a number of them have families waiting for them. So he himself takes upon his duties and finishes as much as he is physically able to until it is close to seven and he just can’t lift a single finger anymore. That’s when he decides that it is time to head home.

More than anything, Jongdae loves his home. As cliché as it sounds, the biggest reason for that is the person he shares his apartment with, the person he loves most in the whole wide world. Yet Jongdae has never dreaded a single thing more than setting foot over the threshold of his front door. He knows exactly who and what is waiting for him behind this strong wooden shield and while he is about 80% sure that he will get out of this alive, the process of going through the next couple of hours won’t be pleasing even the slightest bit.

But some things can’t be avoided it seems to Jongdae decides to swallow his fear and face the upcoming situation like the man he is. So he unlocks the door and steps inside his personal heaven that somehow seems like it has been transferred straight to hell.

In the living room, there is a man sitting on his couch with both arms crossed in front of his chest. A thin pullover covers his upper body but Jongdae can already expect what is hidden under the soft fabric. It is at least a garment that Jongdae bought his boyfriend as a present so things can’t be too bad… right?

“Hey, my love,” he carefully begins, voice sweet as honey but cautious as if he is confronting a hungry bear, “how was your night?”

The answer is yelled at him as if he has 38 missed calls from his mother and just answered the 39^th try.

“You ing shot me! That is how my night was!”

The man has jumped up in an instant although the movement is slowed down and made a little less fluid due to his wounded upper body. Normally, Minseok moves with the grace of a dancer and the fastness of an athlete so seeing him like this is more than just strange. It hurts.

But as much as there is pain showing on his face, too, there also is murder in his eyes. “I couldn’t believe it at first, not even when I saw the blood. Because not only was the shot delivered to the one place where I wasn’t protected and next it was YOU who fired away! You!”

Jongdae has tried to prepare himself for the hell that he was about to walk through yet nothing could have ever primed him for actually being screamed at by the one person who has never raised his voice before. The one thing that makes it even worse, though, is the undeniable disbelieving hurt that shapes Minseok’s beautiful face into something like a distorted grimace. It doesn’t suit him at all.

“I am allowed to shoot people but you are supposed to be one of the good guys!”

“Are you saying that you are going to put a bullet in me in return or what?” Jongdae retort even if he knows that it will only at fuel to the fire that already is burning in Minseok’s anger. It is probably not the best idea to provoke a man that is more powerful than the Korean justice system yet Jongdae still hopes that the man still loves him enough to forgive him the small but tragic slip up.

To actually find out if that is the case, he slowly steps closer and opens his arms to silently invite him to a hug. It takes a couple of seconds but sooner rather than later, Minseok rolls his eyes with a dramatic sigh – and all but falls into the embrace of his lover as soon as his own pride allows him to.

“I’m still mad at you,” he mumbles into the uniform of the policeman, “and one day I will get my revenge, just so you know.”

That statement pulls a lighthearted laugh from Jongdae’s throat, a gentle sound that is still enough to rumble through both of their bodies.

When they are close like this, with both of his hands placed on his boyfriend’s back, the younger of the two feels the bandages through the thin fabric of Minseok’s pullover. They are wrapped around his whole ribcage, from right below his armpits to little over his navel, Jongdae finds out when he lets the tips of his fingers travel over the other’s upper body.

He pecks Minseok’s shoulder right before he pulls away, just a little to get a proper look at him. “That’s a big dressing somebody put on you.”

A small, shy smile spreads over the older man’s lips. “Yeah. Baekhyun wanted to make sure he got it all right.”

Now that is something that makes them even.

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae states, as dry as his voice could ever get. Baekhyun was the one Minseok has been in a relationship with when the now-couple got know each other. Sure, the thing the two of them had didn’t last long after Jongdae became part of the picture but even when they broke up, Baekhyun still managed to get between them more than just once because he just couldn’t let Minseok go. Jongdae didn’t blame him, really, because he knows what it is like to love the beautiful, strong male but there are borders that you just don’t cross. Like kissing Minseok right when Jongdae stepped into the room to make it seem like there was still something going on between them. That was the first time Jongdae lost his temper in privacy, without being at work and having to be brutal sometimes, only to punch that bastard in his stupid ing face.

Minseok might have forgiven him over to the time to build a neutral ground where they can meet and work together like professionals – but the same doesn’t apply to Jongdae. Not now and not ever.

“So Baekhyun bandaged you, alight,” he grumbles, “Guess we both know who’s sleeping on the couch tonight.”

The way Minseok’s face falls as if he has just been slapped almost makes Jongdae laugh but that would ruin the faux annoyed expression he tries to uphold.

“You are kidding, right? I have a ing bullet wound! I deserve to sleep in a bed!”

“It was just a joke, you big baby,” Jongdae retorts and taps his pointer finger on the tip of his boyfriend’s nose. It is not the first time he has done this so as always he wonders how many people would even try to boop a mob boss’ nose, let alone how many could get away with this. Sometimes Jongdae prides himself in knowing that the answer to that question is: only him. Especially since he recalls that some persons have been killed for far less than a simple poke.

Minseok takes a step back and crosses both arms in front of his chest. Years of keeping up a cold, stoic personality in front of all the vassals that work for him have made him perfect the ‘untouchable, inviolable, indestructible-façade’ so that not even Jongdae would see how much that simple action surely hurts. His jaw is set, his eyes are hard and his whole body screams of strength that nobody could ever cross – yet Jongdae has been with his lover for half a decade now. He can see through every mask that Minseok shows the world.

“Come on,” he softly says as he reaches out for him, “you know that I love you.”

Scoffing quietly to himself, Minseok dodges the hands that try to grasp him, “Yeah, you love me enough to shoot a hole through me.”

The next words flow out of Jongdae’s mouth before he can stop them. “I would rather shoot into the hole you already have.”

“Oh dear lord.” Now one hand comes op so Minseok can cradle his own face at that stupid attempt of a bad joke. But, as he has already cleared up, Jongdae knows his boyfriend in every single possible way so he can all but sense the smile that the older of the two tries so hard to push down.

“You looove me!” he sings and skips forwards to wrap Minseok in a tight hug, of course a careful one to not put pressure on the sensitive spot where the bullet has hit him. “You can’t be mad at me for too long.”

“Watch me,” Minseok mutters but still puts his face in the crook of his lover’s neck. No matter how, it is always Jongdae who defeats him in the matter of mere seconds.