“We’ve arrived,” announced the drive with his voice as low as possible, seeing Taemin had fallen as sleep in the back seat. Minho was dead tired as well, still he kept his eyes open. Having Taemin back in his arms was enough for the moment.

The drive opened the door and Minho carried Taemin to their bedroom. Sure, it wasn’t easy – even for someone like Minho – to pick up Taemin. After all Taemin wasn’t a child. But how could Minho wake up the younger when Taemin finally got some sleep after such a day?

Laying his husband down, Minho made sure the room was warm enough for Taemin was still shivering. The more Minho knew Taemin the more fascinated Taemin appeared to him. Less than an hour ago, he was crying, his hand was broken, and his life was threatened. Nevertheless, now the younger was already sleeping like it was just another day. Minho acknowledged Taemin might look innocent, yet he was tougher than anybody might think of him. If you couldn’t judge a book by its cover, then Taemin was a great book with the most unexpected plot twist.

While he was treating Taemin’s wounds, his phone vibrated.

“Woobin and some of his men escaped. We’re still looking for them. But the rest, we got them,” said the voice at the other end.

“Good,” replied Minho, leaving the room to not disturb Taemin.

“Keep it quiet. My father shouldn’t know about any of this. And find that rat Woobin.”

“What do you want to do with his men?”

“Interrogate them. Find every single traitor… and eliminate them all. Show no mercy.”

“No mercy,” repeated the man, hanging up.

Next morning, Minho was roughly woken up by the noise of shattering glass. Noticing Taemin wasn’t next to him, Minho rushed towards the source of the noises without putting on his slippers.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up. It’s hard with only the left one,” Taemin said, showing his bandaged hand. It was nearly magic how fast Taemin’s voice erased Minho’s panic.

“,” exclaimed Minho, breathing out as he pulled the younger in for a hug.

“Stop giving me heart attacks,” he added.

“Minho, I can’t breathe.” Taemin said, softly pushing on Minho’s chest.

“Just a little more,” whispered the older, resting his head on Taemin’s shoulder. With his sound hand, Taemin Minho’s back. He too enjoyed being in his lover’s embrace. Minho’s shoulder was wide. Minho’s body was warm, and his grip was strong. Taemin felt safe when Minho was around.

As said, Minho let got after a while. With care he took Taemin’s broken hand. “Who did this?” he asked, “I’ll skin him.”

“Please don’t. It was me,” Taemin answered.

“You?”

“Woobin’s right hand, I punched him in the face. He lost a tooth, but I broke my hand,” Taemin explained with a shy smile.

“Are you trying to ?”

“Ok, Mister. Just let me clean this mess first,” pointed Taemin at the shards.

“No time for that,” shouted Minho, picking up Taemin. Impatiently, Minho threw the younger on the couch. Their lips locked and next thing Taemin knew, he was gasping for air.

“Wait, Minho,” he said breathless, but the gang leader didn’t listen.

“Minho, stop,” Taemin repeated without success. Normally Minho was a gentle lover who always made sure Taemin’d feel good, but today he was different.

“I said ‘Stop’,” yelled Taemin before kicking his husband, using just as enough force as needed for Minho to fall down the couch. He thought. However, Minho’s crash landing sounded harder than it should be. The older whined as his head bumped against the floor.

“Déjà-vu,” he thought, “am I dreaming again?”

“I told you to stop.” Taemin explained.

“Damnit, what the hell?” Minho growled.

“I want to talk about yesterday first.”

“Talk? Right now? Are you kidding me?” Minho asked in disbelief, rubbing his head.

“I’m sorry… but I can’t,” Taemin shook his head with guilt, “I can’t with the elephant in the room… Wow, that sounds weird.”

Slowly Minho approached Taemin again, beware of another kick.

“What’s there to talk about? It’s over. I’ll take care of the rest and I’ll make sure something like that’d never happen again. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“That’s not what I’m worry about. Minho, you almost die because of me,” Taemin pointed out the fact, something Minho was fearing. Neither talking nor feelings was one of his strengths. Talking about feelings was his nightmare.

“And you almost die because of me. We’re even.” Minho argued.

“This isn’t a race. You literally shot yourself for me. What should I do, if you really have died, you idiot?” Taemin broke into tears. Wiping away his tears, even Taemin seemed surprised by his outburst. By that Minho pulled the younger in for a hug one more time.

“Don’t be silly, Kibum. I know Woobin, I knew it wasn’t real. I wouldn’t be a use for him, if I’m dead,” Minho explained, pressing Taemin again his chest as if he wanted Taemin to feel his heartbeats, showing the younger he was alive.

“Liar, you pulled the trigger,” Taemin said through his sobbing. Naturally, Minho hated seeing his husband crying. Still, he was relieved that Taemin finally react “normally” to a trauma. Because Taemin’s calmness was like ticking bomb. Minho hadn’t known sure when or what would happen.

“I was sure Woobin wouldn’t kill me. As much as I hate our old man, he is good for something. He would disinherit us, if we go after each other. Otherwise we’d have kill each other years ago.” Minho wiped away the tears on Taemin’s face.

“But you couldn’t know that revolver wasn’t loaded.”

“I did have a clue. I thought it was kind of Russian roulette.” By that Taemin frowned.

“Russian roulette?” He screamed and another tear fell. “You risked your life on a 1:6 chance?”

“That’s a 5:6 chance to live,” Minho said jokingly despite the fact.

“You’re crazy. You’re a stupid lunatic,” Taemin yelled again, pushing Minho away. Yet the older only held him tig