Sungmin moved his hips, slowly, sensually to the music that reached them from the main dance floor below. He ignored the whispers from the other side of the VIP room and just danced. The man he was grinding his into didn’t seem to notice the attention they were getting either and Sungmin smirked as his dance partner grasped his hips and bent him over the table in front of him. Sungmin arched his back and moaned invitingly as his pants were pulled down to his hips-

But that was as far as they got before a large, very powerful hand grabbed his right wrist and yanked him away from the other man. “Oh no, you don’t…”

Before Sungmin could protest, Nero had already drawn his Desert Eagle and the other guests at the bar made a hasty retreat to the back of the room. Nero wasn’t just waving the gun either, he would’ve been more than happy to pull the trigger. Luckily for the rich college kids in the club tonight, none of them tried to interfere as Nero dragged him away.

“You’re supposed to get paid for that kind of a show,” Nero hissed. He was increasing his grip on Sungmin’s arm as he pushed him roughly toward the door. They’d been through this numerous times before; so while Sungmin growled, he knew better than to fight him here. “Button your shirt, little . For the love of god- will you fix your pants?”

“Why? Afraid you’ll see something you want?” Sungmin purred, wiggling his hips and letting his jeans slide down a bit more. He was hard and his bright pink underwear only emphasized it, Nero blushed watching him for a moment. 

But when Sungmin leaned in to kiss him, Nero shoved him hard into the nearest wall. Sungmin was just drunk enough to giggle watching Nero struggle to fix his obscenely tight pants around his problem. A server and several club guests walked by and giggled predictably, thinking that Nero was trying to get into his pants and Sungmin winked at them, grinning. With one particularly hard yank, Nero managed to close the button and next came the zipper. Nero was still blushing as he dragged Sungmin out of the club and shoved him into the limo that was waiting outside.

Sungmin settled into the plush leather seat and sighed unhappily. Nero was getting better at this game. He’d have to find some new hang outs soon or he’d never get to have any fun. Of course, it didn’t help that his days off were getting more and more infrequent…

The man with the gun slid into the seat across from him and after the door closed, the limo pulled out into traffic. The golden skinned, blue eyed, natural blond was strikingly exotic and as handsome as a Chippendale’s model. An American by birth, but he’d been dragged all over Asia growing up, by the parents he’d described as Peace Corps hippies. Nero spoke 8 languages and three dialects of Chinese- he always seemed as at home in Sungmin’s hometown of Seoul, Korea as he had been on their frequent visits to Asia’s other hotspots. Muscular but not bulky, Nero was strong and exceptionally graceful for his height of 6’2”. He kept his golden blond hair in a thick ponytail that usually draped over his right shoulder. But in spite of his good looks, the man was certifiably insane. 

“I had to walk out on Sullia to bring your stubborn back tonight so don’t give me that look, brat.”

“Aren’t most people allowed to enjoy getting a day off?”

“Usually I enjoy your days off too, Sungmin-ah,” Nero purred. At the abrupt change in his tone, Sungmin glanced at him and wished he hadn’t. Nero was fondling the high caliber hand gun and leering at him maliciously. “Lately you always seem to drag home someone that I get to kill. But since he’s in Hokkaido tonight, the boss wants you at home, where you’ll be safe.” 

He didn’t like the way Nero pronounced the word safe. He had known the older man for almost ten years- and whenever the bastard looked this happy, there was inevitably something wrong… Every instinct Sungmin had was scrambling to get away from his babysitter- or at the very least, to distract him for a while.

“There’s a fight down town tonight…”

“I know,” Nero growled. “Attila is there, lucky bastard.”

“Then let’s go! I could use the exercise.”

Nero’s expression was intrigued but he leaned back into the seat and studied him warily. “I don’t know. If your opponent messes up that exquisite face of yours, the boss might just take it out of my hide…”

“You can’t beat me, what makes you think anyone else in this town can?” Sungmin asked smugly.

“Cocky little …” Nero snarled under his breath, but he lowered the window to the driver’s cabin. “Change of plan, take us to the district 4 warehouse downtown- the underground entrance.”

“Yes sir,” The driver said and the limo smoothly switched lanes and made a left turn. Sungmin was glad that Nero was so easily manipulated. He hated it when things got too quiet though because it gave his thoughts time to wander, and his babysitter was just not good company tonight. He also hadn’t put the gun away, and that normally meant Nero would be going out hunting later. 

He thought things had been rather quiet lately- but either Sungmin was wrong or Nero would be making some sort of a preemptive strike. He shivered; their boss was the infamous Black Dragon. His underlings were involved in everything from gambling scams and extortion to human trafficking and money laundering, so Black had a lot of enemies. But Nero didn’t mind being kept busy- killing people was his favorite part of his job...

Sungmin, on the other hand hated his job… He was an , officially- and an obscenely expensive one at that. Like any other desirable possession, he and the 11 other guys in the elite Super Junior line were expected to be polite, perfectly groomed and expensively dressed at all times. But it would’ve been more truthful to say that they were slaves. They had no money, no future and no way out of their gilded cage. Though their every need was cheerfully provided for by their house manager and his staff, punishment for disobeying even minor rules, was swift and brutal.

Few people would ever link a distinguished and handsome older gentleman like Trent Black to the wicked Black Dragon that was whispered about on the streets. For one thing, the man was a foreigner- not to mention a wealthy businessman who had legitimately invested millions in everything from coffee shops to music labels all over Korea. A particularly successful lawyer, Black had come to Korea to enjoy his early retirement. He was born an English aristocrat- privately educated and a gifted linguist; he never lost his cool. But there were moments though, when Trent Black’s frosty gray eyes scared him in a way that Nero never could. 

After his parents were murdered, Sungmin and his little brother were taken in and later adopted by their father’s business partner. Trent seemed kind then, if a little distant and clueless with children. Sungmin was twelve and the wealthy Englishman had offered to take care of them. Their relatives had been busy with their own lives and were grateful. 

Within a few months though, his brother became weak and withdrawn and had to be hospitalized several times with flulike symptoms. Trent dutifully took him to specialists all over the world and yet no one could definitively figure out what was wrong. And Sungjin’s condition continued to deteriorate; within a year he lacked the strength to get out of bed and play with the toys Sungmin brought him. 

Worried about his only remaining family and missing his parents more desperately than ever, Sungmin started to get into trouble. It was little things at first, mostly getting into fights at school. Thanks to the martial arts he’d studied since he was old enough to walk, he never lost. When Trent scolded him for his inappropriate behavior, he started avoiding coming home after school. Instead he got into experimenting with drugs and more fights. By the time Sungmin was 16, he was regularly being brought home by the police after being caught in raids on Illegal Street fighting matches like the one they were going to now… 

“Hey Brat, look sharp,” Nero smirked, nodding outside the window. Over 2 dozen limos were parked here in the underground lot, but their spot was reserved. 

The party was definitely in full swing. As the driver opened the door, Sungmin could hear the thunderous cheering of a few hundred of the city’s rougher and more troublesome residents. Those patrons were on the viewing deck far above them, which surrounded the cement pit where the fighting took place.

Thick metal doors led to the secured lounge. Wealthy and powerful guests from all over the world mingled cordially as they sipped Champaign and other refreshments while watching the fights from overstuffed chairs. Five different cameras, each of which had its own gigantic flat-screen TV, allowed them to watch the action in the ring without disrupting the music or the festive party in the palatial suite. The food and drinks weren’t the only entertainment available either. Two dozen girls and a handful of male escorts were plying their charms with the guests as well. 

Kyu was sitting beside the bar with a glass of wine, watching Siwon and Donghae stacking a dozen etched crystal shot glasses, when he saw him come inside with Nero. Kyu put down the wine and came over immediately. “Hyung, what are you doing here? I thought you were off tonight?”

Sungmin sighed, waiting until after Nero went over to talk to Attila, Black’s bodyguard. “I am…”

“So he caught you already?” Kyu sighed. “I know you’re bored, but I don’t want to watch you get hurt.”

“Relax babe,” Sungmin purred, his lips brushing Kyu’s lightly. “I’ve been doing this for 8 years now…”

“Do you think that will matter when you are dead?” Kyu scowled, pushing him away. “What will the rest of us do then? We need you and you know that.” 

Sungmin rolled his eyes. It annoyed him that his roommate was angry with him for sneaking out again. But what the other boys didn’t know, the house manager couldn’t force them to tell. Something must have happened at their dorm tonight, but he’d find out what later. 

He knew that they were worried about him continuing to fight too. The outside bookies were actively recruiting fighters from all over the world who were kicked out of more traditional professional sports. They claimed that Black had an unfair advantage since Attila, Nero, Sungmin and others all fought exclusively for him.

In his last fight, Sungmin had faced a Maui Thai fighter who had killed an opponent and two sparring partners in the ring before being kicked out of formal competition. Sungmin’s ribs had given him hell for almost a month after that, but it was worth it to have beaten such a strong opponent.

“Alright the ring is open,” Attila said walking over to him. 

Kyu shook his head sadly as he went back to the bar. Sungmin nodded and tried not to think about his friends...

Formally employed as Trent’s bodyguard for the last 8 years, Attila was gigantic and monstrously strong. At 7 feet tall and almost 300 pounds- most of which was muscle, he was surprisingly graceful for his size too. Attila was reserved, quiet but very dangerous because of his unshakable loyalty to Trent Black. He towered over even Nero but calmly deferred to the blond when their boss was not around.

Several unmarked corridors met in the hall outside, making the lounge’s entrance from the main floor a maze to find. Sungmin would’ve known the way blindfolded, never the less, Attila went first. Once they reached the observation deck Sungmin wasted no time in scooting down the nearest ladder into the pit and began some light stretches.

--

Kangin was almost overwhelmed- the reality of the Illegal Street fighting industry here in Seoul was appalling; eight men had been killed already tonight. There were over 200 people here on the observation deck- and the spectators were truly enjoying it. They howled their approval- even when weapons were drawn. And in general, the bloodier the fights got, the better they liked it. When the broken bodies of the losers were dragged out of the cement pit below, they were quietly carted off behind the scenes. 

He’d been careful to remind himself that he was here to put a stop to this sort of thing by cooperating with Interpol though. He’d also been chosen specifically for this investigation because he’d been plagued by disciplinary issues and his resentment of authority from High School to college and even during his stint in the Army. Just the sort of man these people were looking to recruit and his command of the local language made him the FBI’s most logical choice, after two other agents had been killed by Nero. 

Kangin was pretty sure he’d found his true calling once he found his way into the FBI as a deep cover specialist last year. That was why he was surprised that he had been tempted to blow his cover and try to arrest the lowlifes running this freak show during the first fight… (Outnumbered 200 to one, and without a badge or a gun, he was pretty sure that it wouldn’t have worked.) But still, the two that fought in the first battle had been children- experts in Kenpo and neither was older than 13. It made him sick to see that they were just as strung out on meth as the rest of the fighters he’d seen so far had been. 

Still, his new friend who had brought him in to this secret world had been in an especially good mood for the last fifteen minutes but refused to tell him why. “Hey! Those other bastards were just the warm up. My buddy downstairs says the real fun is about to start.”

Kangin frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“Check it out. The big gorilla coming this way in the black suit is Attila- one of the best pit fighters in the world. He’s won me a lot of money- but ya see the guy with him? That is Lee Sungmin- one of The Black Dragon’s most popular male escorts. Don’t let that pretty face fool you though. The kid’s deadly. Tonight he’s fighting a chump who won a couple of matches in the last few weeks and started shooting off his mouth about fighting someone stronger. I guess someone heard him. Miguel’s a wicked brawler and a blade specialist, making him one of the dirtiest fighters I’ve ever seen- well, aside from Nero and his gun. But Sungmin will take him. He’s a particular favorite of the ladies for obvious reasons, but I gotta tell ya, I’ve learned not to bet against him too.”

“Sounds kinda like you’ve got a little bit of a crush on him, Shindong.”

The other only smiled. “I think most people who have met him have a little bit of a crush on Sungmin. But I’ve known him since we were kids, I’ll introduce you later. Just don’t fall in love with him.”

Kangin smiled back and they both laughed but all he could think about was the way his heart fluttered when he first saw Sungmin’s photo. Lost in a pile of other pictures, all he could see at first were two mesmerizing dark eyes, dark lashes and porcelain skin. Pulling it out of the stack, he was shocked to find that the owner of those haunting eyes wasn’t female. The boy was exceptionally beautiful though; there was just no other way to say it. He wore a baseball cap over long black curls that fell past his shoulders and a light blue jacket but no expression as he glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were soft and painfully distant. Kangin shivered at the memory; the boy looked impossibly sweet and innocent to be involved with people like this. Since then, he’d read over the guy’s file dozens of times and stared at that picture, still wondering how someone so beautiful got into such a mess. 

His first glimpse of the man himself was no less breathtaking than the old photo. His delicate features were still exquisitely beautiful but his hair was shorter. He wore a bright pink silk button down shirt and black jeans. The simple outfit emphasized the breadth of his shoulders and the way they tapered into lean hips and long legs. He moved with a supple grace that the other fighters they’d seen lacked- indicating that he wasn’t high. Indeed, his eyes were sharp, alert and focused as he bounced fearlessly down the ladder. He seemed calmly oblivious to the jeers of the crowd- most of whom were happy to assume he was too pretty to fight as he stretched out a bit. His movements and stances were an interesting blend of several different martial arts- Wu Shu, Kung Fu and Tae Kwan Do.

Kangin felt his stomach churn a little as a man in his thirties dropped into the pit. Shindong told him that this was Miguel. The crowd’s cheering only got louder as the badly scarred man flashed a butterfly knife at Sungmin and smirked. The younger man didn’t react at all; he watched the other warily but continued with his stretches.

Sungmin let the older male attack first. Miguel lunged forward, and slashed at his throat. The strike was high and wide though as Sungmin ducked and twisted his body to the left to avoid it easily. He was quick to spin and caught one of Miguel’s feet in a sweep. The older male tripped and blushed a little as he caught himself, sagging against the wall. But Sungmin didn’t waste any more time- he jumped, planting a spinning roundhouse to the cement wall where Miguel’s head had just been. The older man was back peddling along the wall, as he reached into his jacket and pulled out another knife. 

Sungmin scowled and skidded toward Miguel before the other had even realized he’d moved. The slide kick threw the scarred man to the ground hard and in the instant that he was dazed; Sungmin kicked the second knife out of his hand where it got lost in a pile of old newspapers. The crowd and Miguel both shouted in fury. 

Sungmin was expressionless as the other rushed at him. Miguel’s knife was aimed for his chest, but the younger male was easily quicker. Using his right forearm to deflect the knife, Sungmin ignored the gash in his sleeve and the blood seeping into his pink shirt. He stepped into the blow and grasped Miguel’s arm, twisting it out to the side. Miguel howled in pain as Sungmin hammered a vicious palm strike into the back of the joint, shattering it. Miguel dropped that knife too and sagged into the corner, instinctively cradling his now useless limb. Sungmin was still expressionless as the crowd began to get restless, sensing the battle was already over. 

Unable to locate his knives, Miguel reached down with his good hand and picked up the remains of a shattered bottle. The green glass was just the neck with a huge shard of curved glass 4 inches wide and more than 6 inches long sticking out of it. Miguel’s face was ashen with pain and shock and Kangin didn’t like it that the man made no move to surrender. Not that he could have in a place like this, but he was painfully outclassed. So why die for a losing effort? 

Sungmin watched his opponent warily. He was eerily calm and still seemed oblivious to the wild crowd. When Miguel rushed at him, Sungmin again stepped into the blow, deflecting it with his left arm. Again he seemed oblivious to the pain as the glass dagger raked the top of his wrist leaving a deep gash. Sungmin was carefully focused on his opponent as he slammed his right fist into the man’s chest directly over his heart. 

Miguel staggered and fell to his knees, gasping for breath and clutching the spot where he’d been hit. Even paler now, and struggling just to breath, Miguel blinked through frightened eyes and lashed out blindly with the makeshift glass dagger again. But there was no speed or strength, even in his good arm now and the only thing he hit was the wall. The cement shattered the remains of the bottle, embedding splinters of it into his hand.

As Miguel bobbled and fell to his knees next to the wall, Sungmin brought his heel down on the back of the man’s neck in a brutal axe kick. The knife fighter’s body slumped to the ground like crumpled paper and lay still. 

Sungmin never did acknowledge the crowd like the other fighters, but they were all shouting his name now anyway. Instead, he turned and quietly jumped toward the cement wall; he used the momentum to jump again and he twisted in midair so that he caught the bottom rung of the nearest ladder. He was all the way up the ladder before Kangin realized Shindong was leading him over there. 

Now that the fight was over, Sungmin wore no expression at all. He was silent and clearly disinterested as he made his way through the crowd of people trying to congratulate him, back toward the huge man who had brought him to the pit.

“Yo, Sungmin-ah!” Shindong shouted over the crowd. At the sound of a familiar voice, Sungmin turned and looked around.

“Shindongie!” Sungmin’s face lit up with a brilliant smile as he bounced over to the large man and embraced him. Kangin was puzzled by his sudden desire to pull them apart; luckily he was too busy staring at the beautiful younger male to act on it.

“Right now it’s hard to believe that guy ever won any matches at all,” Shindong said, lightly squeezing him back before releasing him. Around them the next fight was starting, and Kangin was glad that the three of them walked away from the railing overlooking the pit.

“He just wasn’t fast enough.” Sungmin shrugged, he looked at Kangin and smirked. “So, aren’t you going to introduce me to your hot friend?”

“You never slow down, do you, Lee Sungmin,” Shindong scolded. “But yeah. This is Kangin-hyung. He just moved into the apartment next to mine and he’s new here. He’s pretty good with his hands; we met while he fixed the stone aged washing machine on our floor yesterday. The damn thing actually works now!”

Sungmin laughed. “Pleased to meet you, Kangin-shi. Shame on you though, Shindongie. You aren’t supposed to bring visitors to a place like this!”

“I don’t mind. It’s been an interesting night,” Kangin smiled, shaking his head. “After all, I won some money thanks to you and we got to meet.”

Sungmin smirked. “Then maybe you wouldn’t mind leaving the party early? I know a great restaurant just down the street…”

Shindong sighed. “That’s terrible. You’re both ditching me already?”

“Don’t be like that, we both know you can’t leave, Shindongie,” Sungmin giggled. “I’ll have Kangin-hyung bring home your favorite though, how about that?”

Shindong sighed and nodded. “Alright fine- but just dinner for you two!”

“Oh really,” Sungmin giggled mischievously. “Does that mean you told your adorable fiancé exactly why she can’t drop by and visit you at work?”

Kangin laughed at the way that Shindong paled and frantically shook his head as Sungmin led him away. 

“That’s so not fair…” Shindong sulked, kicking a small chunk of cement as he watched the two of them leave the viewing deck and head down to the main parking lot. “You get to have all the fun!”

“Fun is in the job description, you know,” Sungmin called back, but Kangin was alarmed to note that this time, his mischievous grin wasn’t reflected in his eyes.

“We don’t…” Kangin trailed off when Sungmin pressed a finger to his lips.

“I’m starving so let’s go while we can. Attila doesn’t care or believe me; we’d never have met because I’d be back downstairs already with the rich people that Shindong cooks for.”