four. a bloody affair
1500+ words

Minseok feels shivers run down his spine when he enters his empty, cold apartment. He left the window opened, or so he thinks he did or else who could’ve done it for him, and he regrets every decision he made that day starting exactly from that.

He sighs as he lets his shoulders finally slump in relaxation from all the tension he felt throughout the day. He sets his case aside, already feeling heavy in his hand, tiring his arm. He needs a shower, actually he needs a bath, the ones that make his body succumb into sleep but he isn’t that type of guy anyway so he settles for a shower and thanks probably the only worthy life decision he’s ever made, having spent a good amount of money to install an over expensive shower that provides him the most satisfying ten minutes of his life.

He needs it. To relax. To submit. To let himself fall. He hates his job and he would, with no further hesitation, quit it if he had the choice but it is well paid, very well paid, and he’s actually good at what he does so it’s all pretty worth it at some point, or at least that’s what he convinces himself.

He fumbles awkwardly and lazily with his shoes. He feels worn out; he only wants to sleep even if he knows he shouldn’t. There’s too much at stake. With that in thought he calculates a rough estimation of maybe two hours of sleep, not even close of being enough to recover but sufficient to not let his guard down too long. He can’t have anything happen, although he wouldn’t mind be killed in his sleep. Not that it would happen because, and this is the job he’s so good at, he’s plenty sure others from his business are as ruthless and scruples free as he is and wouldn’t let him go so easily with a simple bullet to his brain. It’s the clean way, sure, but not the fun way to do his job. And if he’s not entitled to have a little fun then what’s the point really. Putting aside the wealthy compensations, that is.

Stepping off his shoes and shrugging off his coat he finally makes it to his living room. He almost forgets the shower as he makes eye contact with the couch that so appetizingly seems to be calling out his name, tempting, oh so tempting.

Despite the couch being still the main character in his dilemma when he flicks the light on another thing comes up, a certain someone comes into his line of sight, siting on his futon looking awfully too alive from when Minseok last saw him.

“You could at least finish off your dirty work,” the man chuckles with that deep voice Minseok wanted to make sure he never had to listen again. “or at least, make sure you did your job properly.” He’s smirking and Minseok really wishes he could have his gun in his hand right now to wipe it off with one single shot carefully aimed to his forehead. If such wasn’t reason enough he also feels without it, defenseless, especially seeing the other man has one of his own, unlocked, firmly gripped by his large hand fondling the muzzle over the skin of his cheek. “You’re lacking Minseok,” He smirks again. “awfully.”

Minseok gulps, it’s not every day he hears his real name and it still feels uncomfortable that the other knows it. “I missed you,” he lies, faking a thoroughly well trained nonchalance that’s already impregnated in him. “killing you at once would ruin all the fun of this cute cat chase, wouldn’t it?” He holds a smirk of his own to match the others arrogance. “Wu Yifan.” He adds just to irk him.

The man gets up rather relaxed, dropping his hands to his sides, and starts to walk towards Minseok, only stopping when merely a few inches away and hovering. Minseok doesn’t budge and looks up instead, showing that the tall male doesn’t actually intimidate him. Yifan leans and speaks ever so softly, dropping his voice as low as it can go. “Are you sure?” It runs shivers up Minseok’s spine, his shoulders tense. Yifan pulls up again and goes past Minseok, contouring him really closely. “You didn’t seem all too surprised to see me here,” Minseok would look back, and most definitely should being the only man in the room without a gun but he chooses to stay put with his back turned to Yifan. “and I was supposed to be dead.” He emphasizes rather amusingly. “so, is this some type of code I’m not cracking or are you just really bad at your job?” Minseok can tell the man turned to him by the change of intensity of his voice. “I’m guessing the first, since last time I checked you owned a perfect record. Now, the real question is, why would Kim Minseok let me walk alive?”

Minseok turns and Yifan has his head tilted in a sarcastic surprised expression kind of way and pisses the hell out of him. In a way that makes his insides boil and his head run miles. Little did he know what the reason behind his rage for this man was. Calling it fondness, infatuation or even lovesickness it would be going through a whole plate of definitions Minseok isn’t comfortable with. Maybe a compulsory feeling. Something he can’t help, something that makes Minseok want to jump his bones, something that has him worked up and warm, so warm...just, a feeling that is almost enraging. A dire lust, perhaps. A contradictory one at least, because Yifan can have him on his knees one second or pulling a weapon out of his pocket to kill him the other. It’s messed up, to say the least. Minseok was and still is claimed to end Yifan’s life and since that card was set on the table it just turned Minseok’s life all the more complicated. He either listens to his boss or his feelings. Maybe, yes, he did let Yifan walk alive. Maybe he did, eventually, aimed further away from his chest than he should have. Minseok is really good at what he does, probably the best of his division, never in his life he would have failed such an easy target. Maybe he did actually let Yifan escape unimpaired all this time because maybe, yes, Minseok likes the chase.

Although that’s not actually something he’s comfortable to let out. What he has with Yifan is, well, to keep the train thought, complicated. Feelings aren’t a part of their lives, or at least it shouldn’t be, until Minseok discovered he, and maybe Yifan as well, had some left. If they can even call it feelings.

Minseok turns to face Yifan with a scowl on his face. “You really are pedantic, as if you didn’t know the answer.” Minseok scoffs and it sparks yet another smirk in Yifan’s lips along with a chuckle.

“I’m an ignorant as well, apparently. I need you to tell me,” he takes a stride forward to get close to Minseok again. “really slowly.”

Minseok rolls his eyes. Playing dumb isn’t really a part that suits Yifan at all, even if Minseok finds it entertaining at times. They made this entire thing, this life or death tournament, their personal game and Yifan has this ability to turn everything just the more exciting. Although Minseok isn’t in the mood to play now, he’s tired and grumpy and he needs something to release tension. If he has to use Yifan for it then he will, but with no .

He leans to get inches close from Yifan’s face, to feel his breath on his lips and so the other will feel his as well, looking deeply inside his dark colored eyes. “Don’t play with me.” He whispers. “Just get on with it.” It’s all it took for Yifan to close the gap and kiss Minseok fully on the lips, hasty, almost harsh. It’s the way Minseok likes it anyway so he kisses back just as rough, tangling tongues and lips.

It’s fast and messy and overwhelming, just like every other time before this one, because Minseok feels a mist of fear with excitement and raging hormones enticing his body.

Yifan’s gun gets forgotten somewhere on the table, shirts get shattered between hurried kisses and Minseok gets bent down on the floor, on his hands and knees, while Yifan pounds hard into him. Minseok comes first and after Yifan gets off his high, he flops on his back on the floor, sedated. He decides then that his shower doesn’t compensate that much.

Yifan pulls back the pants he didn’t bother to pull all the way down and grabs his shirt, dressing it, and reaches for his gun. He aims it at Minseok, who’s sprawled on the floor with his pants mid-thigh, still recovering his breath and completely unprotected. It’s an easy shot, bottom down given and yet Yifan hesitates. For a second there Minseok thinks to have imagined a glint of compassion in Yifan’s eyes.

“Maybe next time.” The tall male says lowering the gun with his signature grin displayed on his, still pinkish, lips and steps away to leave through the front door without saying another word. Wordlessly, the promise of another encounter gets set.

meh idk. lol. i hope it's understandable. ;_; drabbles are drabbles, i should start writing more of this kind of au's to get the hang of it. orz