Sehun tugged at the handle with all of his strength. He didn’t dare look behind him, knowing what he would see. Siwon was walking down the hall, quickly approaching. If Siwon had been involved in the murder of Mathew Page who knew what he was capable of.

The footsteps grew closer, Sehun considering his ability to turn and fight. If the man didn’t have a weapon perhaps he would have a chance in a round of sheer physical strength. Perhaps – yet that would be a worst case scenario- a worst case scenario that was quickly becoming the only viable option. The door was clearly locked, each tug of the handle reaffirming the fact.

He had no choice. Turning around quickly Sehun braced himself against the locked door, watching as Siwon stalked towards him. He didn’t seem to have a gun or a knife, perhaps he could fight his way out, perhaps-

The door lurched forward, nearly knocking Sehun off of his feet. He managed to steady himself by catching his hand on the wall. The door collided with his back, pushing him forward a few feet.

“What in the devil?”

Sehun didn’t have time to think, he had to run. Pushing past the two men who stood in the now open doorway he raced through the crowded tavern, only vaguely recognizing them as two of the men at the luncheon from earlier that day. He pushed several patrons aside as he rushed towards the door, each stride one step closer to possible freedom from danger. He could hear someone running after him – probably Siwon – but he didn’t look back. Throwing the door open he braced himself against the cool night air. Looking left then right, he dashed towards the left, towards what he hoped would be freedom from the man who was chasing him.

Rounding the corner of the building next to the drinking house Sehun ran into the dark and unknown alleyway. If he ducked through the twisting and turning narrow alleyways perhaps he could lose him, perhaps he could escape the dangerous fate that awaited him if he was caught.

Turning a corner, than another, Sehun heard the footsteps closing in. He tried to increase his speed, his feet pounding on the cobblestones as he felt the breath leave his body as he increased his physical exertions. Still the footsteps were closing in. Still…

Sehun gasp, his back hitting something hard as a hand closed over his mouth, pulling him into the shadows. 

***

Yixing didn’t realize Junmyeon was awake until the man was nearly half out of bed, his leg swung over the side of the bed as his face contorted with the pain such simple motions evoked from his broken body.

“Do you need help, sir?” Yixing sprang up from where he had been sleeping, a simple trundle bed on the floor.

“Water.” Junmyeon’s voice was raspy. He collapsed back into the bed, wincing as his leg didn’t move the way he wanted it to. Yixing gently maneuvered Junmyeon’ s leg back onto the bed, finding himself feeling his own ounce of pain as the injured man choked back a cry at the way his body was jostled.

“Please, don’t try to get up. If you need anything let me know.” Yixing pulled the blanked back up over Junmyeon, hoping the stubborn young man would listen. A nod was the only answer Yixing received, but for now it was good enough.

Grabbing the pitcher on the side table Yixing poured Junmyeon a glass of water. He held the cup aloft as he tilted it towards man’s lips. Junmyeon drank greedily, down the water before letting his head hit the pillow hard.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Junmyeon asked.

Yixing returned the cup to the side table, then turned to Junmyeon. “The carriage you were riding in crashed. Do you remember anything about the accident?”

“No.” Junmyeon stared up at the ceiling.

“You were badly injured, though the surgeon believes you will make a full recovery.” Yixing sat on the edge of the bed, readjusting the blankets slightly. Junmyeon was still so pale, so fragile looking. He wished he could cure him then and there, take the pain away. It wouldn’t be a quick recovery for Junmyeon, the surgeon had made that clear. “You are at the Viscount D’Adderleigh and the Earl of Easton’s townhouse. The surgeon doesn’t want us to move you yet, sir.”

“Why are you here?”

Yixing stiffened for a moment, the question seemingly offensive in some ways. Junmyeon must have noticed his reaction, quickly blurting out, “I did not mean your presence is unwanted! I was simply curious.”

Yixing cleared his throat. “I am used to caring for people, sir.”

“Thank you, Yixing.” Junmyeon added, “And please don’t call me sir or my lord or anything of the sort.”

Yixing recalled hearing the same thing from the man only a few days prior – yet at the time Junmyeon had bolted out of a teahouse, leaving him with a very poor perception of what his childhood friend had become. Junmyeon had all but panicked at the thought Yixing was close to him during the episode at the tea house. What revulsion he must feel realizing that the estate manager was now playing nurse had Yixing wanting very much to call Kyungsoo into the room and be done with the entire situation.

“If you would like another person caring for you I can call Kyungsoo or-“

“No!” Junmyeon attempted to sit up, once again wincing in pain.

“Please lay still!” Yixing scolded him, pressing the blanket back down around Junmyeon.

“I – if you could stay that would be very agreeable.”

“I can stay.” Yixing found Junmyeon to be a puzzle he had yet to solve, a man he once knew very well, a man who was now very little more than a stranger.

“Did the doctor leave laudanum?” Junmyeon inquired, reaching his hand down towards his injured leg. Yixing fetched the tincture, giving Junmyeon a capful. The medicine seemed to relax the man, Junmyeon no longer fidgeting or attempting to sit up.

A few moments of silence passed, Junmyeon staring at the ceiling as Yixing sat on the edge of the bed, sneaking peeks at him now and then to ensure he was alright.

“Yixing, may I confide in you?”

“Yes.” Yixing turned slightly so he was facing Junmyeon, peering down at the man, he recognized the troubled expression on his face. It wasn’t a pained expression as much as it was a worried one.

Junmyeon exhaled sharply, shutting his eyes he began speaking. “I am afraid my father has done something that may have terrible consequences for many people.”

Yixing didn’t respond to Junmyeon’s statement. He was there to listen. When he didn’t respond Junmyeon continued. “I fear he is supporting someone who is involved in dastardly actions. Yet a part of me doesn’t want to tell anyone what I suspect.” Junmyeon sighed, falling silent.

“You love him, he is your father. Is that not a natural reaction?” Yixing spoke, let his thoughts be known, feeling as though Junmyeon was waiting for him to say something.

“Is it?” Junmyeon turned his head, looking at Yixing with a curious gaze. “Yet isn’t the correct course of action to tell others of my suspicions.”

“Are you considering not telling anyone? If I am understanding your words correctly, you are carrying guilt at your considerations. I don’t believe you would actually not tell anyone, especially if you thought it would help others if you spoke of your suspicions.”

“Why do you possess such faith in me?” Junmyeon queried.

Yixing was not sure if he should share the memory that pushed itself to the forefront of his mind at Junmyeon’s question. It was so long ago - what if the other man no longer remembered it. Throwing caution to the wind he answered, “You gave me reason to, a long time ago.”

“Gave you reason?” Junmyeon’s curious gaze seemed to confirm what Yixing suspected, he had no memory of the time long ago, when they were children running around the D’Adderleigh estate – or at least if he did he wasn’t associating the memory the same way Yixing was.

Yixing let out a nervous laugh, nodding. “Do you recall the summer it rained nonstop? I believe we were nine years old.”

“A little.” Junmyeon’s lids were beginning to droop, the effects of the medication clearly kicking in.

“Sleep, I shall tell you another time.” Yixing had no more than spoken the words before a light snoring was heard, Junmyeon’s chest lightly rising and falling as he drifted off.

***

Jongdae threw the bundle towards Heechul. “You said you were hungry.”

Heechul lifted the bundled vegetables, scowling at Jongdae. “You didn’t even have your cook unwrap them?”

“I forgot.” Jongdae sat down on the red velvet sofa, keeping a good distance from Heechul. “I have had many things to occupy my mind of late other than the food you push at me.”

“Fair enough, old boy.” Heechul set the bundled celery on the side table, tenting his hands he leaned in towards his boyfriend. “I know that you have had more than enough to occupy your mind, are you well? I worry about your welfare.” His gaze was all honesty, worry, and consideration.

Jongdae expected many things from Kim Heechul. Constant propositions. Daily innuendos. Surprise visits to his office. Even some jealous rants now and then. Every once in in a while Kim Heechul surprised him, displaying an equal dose of affection and concern that reminded Jongdae exactly why he had fallen for the older man to begin with.

“I am frustrated.” Jongdae hated the fact that his current top case was maintaining the same lack of clarity as the days passed, the complicated nature of the mounting crimes growing faster than his ability to piece together the few clues that were available. “What happened to Junmyeon…I feel responsible, I should have solved this before anyone was injured.”

“I am worried for you.” Heechul moved closer, lifting his arm to rest on the back of the sofa. “Old boy, if someone dares hurt you I will-“

“Critique their fashion sense until they are run out of the country by a terrifying mob of matrons?” Jongdae finished his sentence, snickering at his own joke.

“You are quite witty.” Heechul rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide his smile. “May I be serious, or is that so uncharacteristic of me it isn’t possible?”

“By all means, be serious.” Jongdae waited for it. Heechul was never great at expressing his emotions – well, aside from hinting at his feelings through a series of lustful and sarcastic remarks.

“To think, I am not even intoxicated and I have such things to say.” Heechul dragged his free hand through his hair, Jongdae noticing that he did indeed appear a tad bit awkward. Heechul and awkward were two words that were not often associated with each other. “What happened to Junmyeon today – if that were to happen to you...”

“It will not.” Jongdae couldn’t say so for certain – Junmyeon was clearly targeted, what would stop the same person from targeting him? Nothing, considering the fact he had yet to identify the culprit. Yet he wouldn’t say as much to Heechul, he didn’t want him filled with an uncharacteristic set of worries about his safety.

“You don’t know that.”

Jongdae stared into Heechul’s eyes. “I knew the risks when I accepted my position with the Home Office.”

“I don’t want to lose you. Dare I admit that you have affected me more than any other?”

Jongdae swallowed, hard. Heechul – witty and fun and sarcastic Heechul – was making as serious of a love confession as he probably ever had. Because he was afraid of losing him. It wasn’t a matter for words to sort out. Jongdae leaned into the older man, cupping Heechul’s cheeks with his hands he planted a chaste kiss on his lips.

Breaking the kiss for a moment Jongdae searched the older man’s face, memorizing the chestnut eyes, the wide lips, the way he looked so on edge it was maddening. “Have I ever told you I love you?”

Heechul took the initiative, his hands finding Jongdae’s waist he leaned forward, relishing in the way that Jongdae allowed himself to be lowered down onto the sofa.

Jongdae usually protested, teased, resisted. He didn’t want to resist now, not with uncertainty flooding his future. Not when he knew how much Heechul meant to him and vice versa. It wasn’t a time to play around, it wasn’t a time to say no when Heechul’s hand found his trouser buttons, snaking along his stomach as their mouths slotted together. There was no longer a playful reason to be staid and reserved, there was no longer a reason-

A loud pounding on the front door of Jongdae’s apartment had Heechul returning to his usual self. “The moment I was prepared to finally see you a demon arrives! My lord, how you test me!”

Jongdae ignored Heechul’s outburst, focusing on the footsteps of the servant who was at present rushing towards the nonstop thudding resounding from the entry way. Could something have happened? Or worse, could someone be there to inflict pain upon him – perhaps the same person who sabotaged Junmyeon’s carriage. The sudden thought of an attack had Jongdae pushing at Heechul, urging him to stand. “Please, hide.”

“Hide?” Heechul appeared completely put out by the suggestion.

“I am not certain this visitor comes bearing good will.” Jongdae stood and made his way towards the parlor door, glancing back at Heechul once more he passed through the doorway, making his way to the entryway.

“Sir!” It was Tao, still dressed in the livery of Sehun’s family. “Sehun has gone missing.”

“Missing?” Jongdae felt a measure of relief that Tao was the visitor, however his relief quickly turned to concern when Tao spoke. Giving the serving girl who answered the door permission to leave, Jongdae waited for Tao to explain his panicked visit.

“He didn’t return home tonight.” Tao appeared frazzled as he spoke. “He said he would be engaged with the investigation this evening. This isn’t like him, to still be out.”

Siwon. He must have gone after Siwon. Jongdae paled, barely noticing the fact that Heechul had emerged from the parlor. “I will contact my agents.”

“Please do.” Tao grabbed at Jongdae’s arm, pleading, clearly afraid for what had become of Sehun.

***

Sehun struggled, attempting to free himself from the strong grasp that was keeping him pinned against the stone building. As he rebelled against the force that was restraining him he caught a glimpse of a shadow passing across the light cast from the gas street lamp – a flurry of footsteps retreating with the shadow.

“Shhhh.” A voice, the person holding him spoke. It was vaguely familiar, the inflections and the accent. “Be still.”

The Comte Labeaux. Sehun recognized the voice at that moment- it was the Comte, holding him still within the shadows, his intentions completely unknown.
 

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a/n- I am so, so sorry about the lack of updates! I have been busy pounding out fics for several fests/ exchanges I signed up for (aka I signed up for too many in retrospect, oops). I have also had some family stuff to deal with, so at this time I can’t really promise as fast and furious updates as you guys are probably used to from me. I hope everyone will be patient and continue to support this fic! I will try to keep updating at a minimum of once a week, but if I don’t please forgive me! <3- LC