keep those stars (in your eyes) alight - for yakiseop
Title: keep those stars (in your eyes) alight
For: yakiseop
Pairing: chen/chanyeol
Rating: pg13
Warnings: lapslock
Word count: 5395
Summary: space!au. jongdae notices that his eyes are like flames - and he wants to keep those flames alight for a long, long while.
the scene here is very misleading.
there is a boy with mussed up hair and a sad frown etched in his face, fingers dancing madly on the steering wheel - he doesn't even notice his ruined appearance. his eyes are bloodshot and there are blood splatters on his uniform - a once pristine and perfect white - and shadows smear inky bags under his eyes, curtaining his face with a look of death and gloom.
most people would think that he is sad.
however, he isn't just only sad. he's feeling a terrifying mixture of glee and sorrow, like too many colors mixed with each other, and it creates an indiscernible hue of uncertainty. he's angry and mad and relieved and happy, he's sick and tired and electrified. he is, in the end, a ball of varying emotions crumpled together.
life buzzes around him like flies, neverending, never stopping, and he wants it to stop.
he wants to fly off to the vast expanse outside mars, scoop one of the stars and let it burn his fingers, maybe. maybe he wants to rip this hideous uniform off and bathe the scent of luhan off him, he isn't that sure - if there is one thing he’s sure about, it’s about getting away..
he isn't sad. he's relieved - the weight has already been lifted off his shoulders, hasn't it? - but there's a voice whispering in the back of his head, hissing things like no, you aren't and you can fool yourself, but you can't fool your heart, do you know that?
the boy shifts uncomfortably. his name is jongdae.
---
fast-forward from that scene to several months later.
jongdae and the car aren’t here. no, it's replaced by a new bubble tea stand that offers deliciously disgusting combinations, and food experts recommend that you should never question the ingredients of the drinks. if you savor taste more than content, numerous food articles italicize, this is your place.
fun fact: jongdae doesn't even know this place, let alone like bubble tea.
he is, actually, miles and miles and miles away, up in the mothership - their mothership - surrounded by a vast nothingness, separating him from gaseous stars too many light years away to reach. he is fiddling with a laser gun vessel that a sympathetic wonshik has given him to cure his boredom.
("you look bored," wonshik had offered his observation, and jongdae nodded dully, too bored to humor the younger. wonshik shook his head while he smiled. "here. this gun is too broken to be fixed. use it for entertainment, i guess."
"thank you," jongdae mumbled.)
now, he's too focused on disassembling the gun to even notice the soft click, clack, click, clack of those familiar high heels; today, the thuds seemed to be lazy-sounding. of course, though, it would be understandable since it's three a.m. mars time, but in space, time means nothing.
jongdae had learned the hard way, a long, long time ago.
the sliding doors to the living room open wide and jongdae looks up.
"it's death a.m., what are you doing?" hyoyeon's voice seems to yawn, her blonde hair still bed-ridden and her eyes opening and closing blearily. "you should be asleep and grateful. baekhyun, amber and i stayed up until twelve to take care of your task. it's exhausting, jongdae - "
and somehow, she has positioned herself beside him on the couch. jongin would be in absolute envy if he was seeing this.
“- but that's the price for not endangering yourself and let another do the dirty work, eh?"
jongdae yanks the document off her fingers while he snorts. "i'm not doing the dirty work, noona, i'm doing the fun part, thank you very much," he recounts to her for the nth time, and hyoyeon grunts. "and, why do you never fail to make a joke sound so serious and morbid? it frightens me."
jongdae's eyes only skims at the flaming dragon syndicate when hyoyeon says, "amber and baekhyun are worried, though."
his mind replays the series of mental images when anyone mentions that syndicate - "luhan, you fool! you, you would have sacrificed baekhyun if it wasn't for me? why? why? junmyeon, yunho-hyung...you're...you're in support of this?" he himself screamed, his face deteriorating to pieces as the memory transforms to baekhyun's burned half, and it turns to him punching luhan, the blood, the scratches -
" - and they were right... to be... worried..." hyoyeon trails off slowly, snapping jongdae out of his memories and the rage that had started to boil when his mind replayed it. she sighs, exhaustion wiped off her face, only concern showing through it. "jongdae, if you're uncomfortable - i mean, when i saw the offer, i had to grab it. but, really, if you don't want to - we can always send wonshik or jongin off, of course, you deserve the rest - "
jongdae looks, to mildly put it, frightened of that prospect. "no," he denies immediately, vehemently. "i'm not going to risk them dying. no. the answer is no. absolutely not."
she nods, understandingly, and jongdae realizes that this is what makes him feel comfortable around hyoyeon; she doesn't push people to do what she thinks is right. instead, she gives them some pondering material to think about and let them decide for their own.
"i understand, jongdae. but think about what i said, okay? what i meant when i said baekhyun and amber are worried. being rash isn't a good thing in your line of work."
with that, she leaves him with a hug, the document, and the echoes of her high heels.
strangely, it reminds jongdae of a certain bitter kiss on his cheek.
---
chanyeol first hears jinri's shriek before he is almost hauled off from his spot, the younger girl hugging him tightly, never ever letting go.
"you've grown," chanyeol muses, messing up her hair, and she grumbles in discomfort ("that tickles!" she complains, flattening her bangs again, attempting to glare at chanyeol). it’s been two or three months since he was here, and really, she grew a few good centimeters. chanyeol knows she's quite taller than the average twelve-year-old.
he was quite tall for his age back then, and chanyeol thinks that people would mistake them as real siblings.
he buries that thought away and instead smiles at her. yifan and sehun jumps out of the spaceship, rough scratch marks still on their skin, like what chanyeol has. yifan's eyes soften considerably as he sees jinri, but not sehun's. his eyes are still as cold as steel, the rare silver amongst their usual brown.
"don't just stand there, help us get these out," sehun says it flatly. coming from sehun, though, it sounds more like an order, but before jinri can untangle herself from chanyeol and take her first step to the direction of the spaceship, the door to the hangar opens.
minseok walks in, eyes sweeping his surroundings, and when he sees jinri and chanyeol, he clears his throat.
"sorry," chanyeol mutters.
"don't be," minseok replies, but judging from his stiff voice, he's probably internally saying, good, you should be. not that chanyeol minds, anyway. the older has bigger debts to the syndicate, and he needs to be obedient so he can pay it off. "and so, i guess you returned safely and in one piece after all. congratulations for that."
yifan blinks incredulously. "uh, did you just," he says slowly, "sass us?"
minseok's cheek is slightly pinker but his indifferent mask remains in place. "that remains to be a secret," he says, and chanyeol can see sehun rolling his eyes. he is, chanyeol repeats for too many times in his head, a brat. an egotistical brat, to add that in. "and, the head of ISSP is here to - "
"let us all just skip the formalities," a voice calls out before the door is opened, revealing a male with the usual white and pristine ISSP uniform, carrying an air of authority around him. the three with jinri are frozen in place - in awe, and fear too, it seems - before jinki steps in and motions them to stand up straight. the new guy is smiling, though, too sincere and too nice. "hello, i am uknow, the new head of the ISSP. pleasure to meet you guys."
"likewise, sir," they all chorus - and to their amazement, uknow bursts out laughing.
"they're too polite!" he exclaims incredulously to minseok and jinki, who are previously glaring at them for even making anyone laugh. they seem baffled - scared, even - but uknow is still looking astonished. "i thought you would be a little harsher - but no! polite and courteous! that's a first!"
"sir," jinri asks, eyes blinking brightly (a little bit too brightly, if chanyeol is asked about it, too mischievous), "that is meant to be a compliment, right?"
minseok and jinki looks like they’re ready to melt from embarrassment.
“indeed it is,” uknow grins kindly (too kindly, chanyeol’s mind unhelpfully supplies) before he turns to chanyeol. “ah, park chanyeol, isn’t it? you have a special mission, and the pay is enough to get both you and jinri out of the syndicate.”
chanyeol nearly salivates.
“go with him, then,” jinki jerks his finger to uknow’s retreating figure, and chanyeol sends an apologetic look at sehun and yifan before he follows the older outside. chanyeol recognized the look in sehun’s metallic eyes too clearly, though.
envy. he has seen it too many times on his own eyes.
---
there is a slide of paper on wood, a rare thing in space. “you need to kill two of these people, park chanyeol.” too calm, too breezy, too carefree.
after that, a cough and a stutter, the voice following after in a disbelieving tone. “b-but i thought i clearly said to the syndicate when i joined, i don’t, can’t, and won’t kill anyone - “
a slam on the desk is the response. “don’t you want you and your sister to get out of here? you saved her, chanyeol, but at the price of what? your real sister - park yura, wasn’t it? she died protecting you and you killed her attacker. what’s the difference?”
“don’t...don’t bring up yura-noona - “
“park chanyeol, you are the most trained and talented criminal in this whole known galaxy, even though most people don’t know it, even though you don’t know it. killing is necessary in what you do, don’t you know that? and to refresh your memory, you already accepted the offer when you followed me outside.”
“ i - “ a sigh of exasperation, forced acceptance. “i’m - fine, whatever.”
---
the clock reads eight a.m. mars time, but the sun’s light is blocked by numerous sketches and documents, hung on every vertical platform available (including the windows). in the middle, there are two people: a boy and a girl, one hunched on her laptop and one scribbling something on his notebook.
they are both currently reviewing jongdae’s plan for his mission and they are doing paperwork for the official bounty hunter issues (confirmation letter, advance rewards, etc), which should be boring, but they don’t acknowledge the usual definition of boring.
“we need to sleep,” baekhyun states, and amber hums back in agreement, but they make no motion to suggest that they are stopping any time soon.
the clock goes to another minute, jongdae pops in the room and asks questions. they answer, wonshik and jongin both take turns going in to allow them to check the new weapons and upgrades. amber takes a break and baekhyun takes over, and it continues on.
as if they’re robots.
well, in a sense, they are.
“i’m worried about jongdae,” baekhyun breaks the comfortable silence, stopping his scribbling, and he puts them aside. “i mean, his close-combat fighting skills aren’t that good, like, if he uses a knife he’ll end up sticking it on his thigh or it ends up on the floor, and his punches aren’t even painful and - “
“baekhyun, focus on the topic. and we discussed this yesterday.”
“right, the topic,” baekhyun repeats. “and i know we discussed this yesterday with hyoyeon-noona. my left brain isn’t burned that bad, you know. but well…what if he meets luhan? the nerve of that guy, damn it. and junmyeon? or yunho? i don’t even want to call them with honorifics. they disgust me.”
baekhyun says that with such pleasantness that other people would think that he’s joking.
but he’s completely serious. that’s another effect of the burn - amber had guessed months earlier, that it had caused his emotion-to-muscle cell or whatever to be unresponsive (please excuse the non-medical language, amber is no medical prodigy).
“he’ll be completely fine. i know him. he’s my brother,” she replies.
baekhyun smiles, and she suspects that it’s actually a smirk. “oh?” he says, leaning to her. “but with those two years worth of stony silence, two years of disagreement and letter-ignoring, i don’t think you actually know him anymore.”
amber freezes.
“uh oh. i stepped on a line, didn’t i.”
“you never had respect for people’s lines, anyway,” she bristles, a bit bitter, and baekhyun’s eyelids droop a little bit, but his eyebrows are furrowed, as if he’s angry (in truth, he is, actually, angry at himself).
baekhyun offers a timid sorry, and even though he doesn’t know if amber accepted the apology or not because he, at least, tried.
he blabbers on. “i’m just,” he sighs, a complete change on the pleasant tone he used just a few moments ago, “really, really worried. i mean, like, you know how jongdae holds grudges. we’re like, the two closest person - wait, i meant people - to him, and well.” baekhyun bites his lips, he is actually pausing - a very, very, very rare occurrence - and so amber looks up, bewildered.
“amber, what if he kills this park chanyeol?”
amber takes a sharp intake of breath and stares at baekhyun. “he wouldn’t,” she says that with such conviction that baekhyun almost wanted to believe her too. “he would not,” she emphasizes, but her conviction is wavering, little by little, and her lips are trembling, slightly, too.
(but, really, they both know better.)
---
the night before his current assignment starts, jongdae visits mars for the first time in months, and lets himself go with a little (really, just a little) amount of alcohol. now, the only thing he’s thinking about is: i should get more, but i can’t. i promised jongin and amber and baekhyun that i’ll only be slightly tipsy. but i want more. but i can’t.
so he’s stuck on nursing a small glass of water, grumbling under his breath.
(well, jongdae’s sober enough to notice that a man is currently sitting beside him but not sober enough to recognize who he is.)
“hey,” a voice is heard from his left, and jongdae almost spills his water.
he takes a (not really) discreet look at the source of the voice, and he sees a cloth mask with skulls printed on it with a red color like fire dyed on its (jongdae hates assuming a person’s gender) hair. the mask covers three-quarters of the person’s face, revealing only his eyes.
jongdae isn’t sure how he can breathe with those mask. he is also isn’t sure how he himself can breathe with such a fine piece of ass in front of him. fuck, why is he even talking about the person’s flat ass? he must be really, really drunk.
“um, yeah, hi,” he replies, a little bit flustered. jesus, he absentmindedly thinks, i’m trained to negotiate with criminals and i’m this flustered when some hot guy approaches me? get your shit together, kim jongdae. “why are you talking to me?”
“because i want to?” the stranger’s voice is muffled by the cloth covering his mouth, but it’s strangely clear for jongdae. that’s a bit strange. “and you seem cute. what’s your name?”
“i don’t give names to strangers,” jongdae waves dismissively, words starting to slur a bit.
the stranger obnoxiously laughs, with tufts of hair bouncing and his hand slapping his knees a bit too hard, but it’s droned below people’s chatters and the strange music coming out of the speakers. “i wasn’t asking for names,” he reminds jongdae when he’s recovered. “i was asking for your name.”
“oh.” a pause. “it’s jongdae.”
the roar of laughter continues. “i can’t believe that worked!” the man barks, too crystal clearly for an obviously tipsy jongdae, but he can’t give a damn. he laughs - unpleasantly - but it is no match to the stranger beside him.
(the man’s stance stiffens for a short while, eyes unblinking, but of course, of course, jongdae doesn’t notice. he’s oblivious most of the time, and now, when he’s tipsy, he is even more oblivious.)
“what’s your name, then?” jongdae asks curiously, slowly sipping the half-full glass of water.
“you can call me fire.”
“wow, that’s rad, man. i mean like, fire is supposed to be hot and shit like that and you’re hot as fuck so. fuck, did i really say that i’m sorry.”
---
it’s a mix of laughter and solemn silence after that between them, though the chatters and sighs of people rising over the dubstep (jongdae had learned the word for that strange music through fire) serves as a background music for their conversation.
fire has consumed lots of those drinks, too, but his eyes are still their usual flame, never dying out - when it usually does for most people. well, for the people the bounty hunter has met.
jongdae notices that - and he wants to keep those flames alight for a long, long while.
---
chanyeol slams the door to his rented car and kicks the engine to motion, cursing his over-enthusiastic mouth profusely under his breath, a skull-patterned mask discarded on the dashboard and flaming red hair seeming more angry in the harsh streetlights of three a.m.
the puzzle pieces are too easy to solve, it seems.
“i was supposed to fucking kill him,” chanyeol grits his teeth, speeding up, “not fall for him.”
---
after a harsh one-hour scolding from amber and wonshik’s hideous hangover soup, jongdae is now boarded in his (“beautiful,” he once cooed, “my beautiful, pretty baby”) starship, baekhyun’s voice droning inside his headphones.
“remember the plan,” baekhyun’s pleasant voice reminds him for the upteenth time, jongin and amber bickering and the sound of clacking keyboard faintly heard in the distance. “you search for information by going to the places that park chanyeol and his minions has stolen from. be on guard all the time. be prepared to hurt and kill and stuff like that. jesus, being your navigator makes my head spin.”
“fuck off,” jongdae sleazily yawns, checking his coordinates. “i didn’t mean to be that drunk, okay. i don’t even remember what happened yesterday. at least i flew to the mothership safely and i barely scraped my baby’s paint job.”
“maybe you got laid, maybe you fucked someone. and stop describing the lighting as your baby, that’s gross as fuck.”
he doesn’t even bat an eyelash as he turns the booster on. “my ass doesn’t feel sore and my dick doesn’t feel amazing. i think the probability that sex happened is a close zero percent. and i can describe the lightning however i want, thank you very much.”
there’s an urgent pace on baekhyun’s quiet keyboard-tapping now. “the hatch will be opened in fifteen. move both yours and the lighting’s butt out.”
jongdae checks the surrounding of the hangar, metal still gleaming like the first time he joined this team of bounty hunters, and his heart aches a bit at the fact that he probably wouldn’t see it for the next few months.
the spaceship flies out and he hears the team cheering. he can also make out jongin’s terrible pick-up line, most likely directed to hyoyeon. the stars look heavenly today, at eleven a.m. mars time.
the hyperspace gate looms just before him, a few good hundred meters away.
“communication will be cut off for seven minutes because of the hyperspace gate. repeat this when you arrive at the galaxy of andromeda: byun baekhyun is the real shit. best of luck, my dear, dear bounty-hunter-slash-best-friend kim jongdae.”
“copy that,” jongdae snorts. “best of luck on handling the piece of shit that is me, too, navigator byun baekhyun.”
the lighting zooms inside the gate and all is dark for jongdae.
---
chanyeol changes his hair to a shade of the darkest black, then cuts and styles it à la mister spock (chanyeol used to love star trek when he’s a kid, but he barely remembers anything about it anymore). his style is also reduced to baggy shorts and tie-dyed t-shirts, but that’s okay.
(no, it’s never okay.)
he got the information where byun baekhyun would be this day - alone in the mothership, the rest of the group off to the council meeting or whatever on the surface of mars. he’s going to kill him. he’s going to take the money for killing kim jongdae and byun baekhyun and pay for his and jinri’s debt and actually be free.
(but, didn’t you fall for this kim jongdae, chanyeol? and the file uknow left you said that kim jongdae is close with this byun baekhyun. you don’t want to break his heart, don’t you, chanyeol?)
killing would be easy, wouldn’t it? just a strike to the artery and it’s done.
the mothership is on sight and chanyeol activates the invisibility booster made by minseok. the man is stern, but chanyeol’s got to admit, he has a very skilled brain and even more skilled hands to built such a thing.
the hatch opens when he presses the hack button. once again, he has to thank minseok.
his spaceship lands quietly and he hops off it, his small dagger perfectly held in his right hand’s grasp. the boots make no sound, and he follows the map copied in his head, leading straight to the navigator’s control room.
byun baekhyun’s left half was burned during the betrayal he and kim jongdae did to the ISSP, but he unfortunately survived. his left brain is still working, but with some injuries. some of his nerve cells are burned. he may be warm and perfectly pleasant, but he might be plotting your murder. the destroyed left half is replaced with android parts.
chanyeol opens the door leisurely.
sure enough, byun baekhyun is sitting on the couch, the navigation control deck left unattended. he’s not smiling or frowning - the perfect picture of blankness - but his eyes are staring sharply at him, fingers interlocked with each other.
(come on, you can’t kill him, the ISSP are bitches anyway, they deserved that shit - )
“i know why you are here,” baekhyun starts flatly. “just get it done, please. kill me with that super cool move in those old movies, like burning me or throwing me out the spaceship so i’d have no oxygen to breathe and just die.”
chanyeol is taken aback and doubt starts to eat him up again.
after a few seconds of heavy silence, baekhyun stands up. “it looks like you’re not going to kill me?” he inquires, but he sounds like he just stated a fact. “good. i’m going back on monitoring jongdae.”
before he can stop himself, the question is out of his mouth.
“what do you know about jongdae?”
baekhyun eyes him with no emotion. “he’s a great friend. i used to love him, by the way. i know now it’s hopeless, jongdae’s too scared he’ll be betrayed again by his own love. so it’s just that platonic best friend thing now. do you know? he used to date that fucktard luhan. that son of a bitch betrayed his own boyfriend, a.k.a jongdae. real cool, right?”
the file said nothing about that, and chanyeol is not prepared by the facts that are spilling out of baekhyun’s mouth.
“y-you used to like - ?” he asks, a loss for words, and baekhyun nods. “and - you mean that luhan - the luhan? - uknow’s right hand thing? that luhan who’s described as - ?”
“angelic with a sense of justice, the man with perfect manners, yes,” baekhyun answers, almost looking annoyed. “he’s not. trust me. jongdae and i have been in the ISSP for two years and that man is nothing like an angel. he blackmails people for his job and his dream is to make yunho fall from his throne as the head of the ISSP and take the job for himself. schadenfreude much? by the way, yunho is uknow. the connection between uknow and yunho, i don’t know.”
after a few moments of stunned silence from chanyeol, baekhyun realizes something. “hey, that rhymed.”
“that’s not the point!” chanyeol ludicrously shouts. “this thing, whatever you have, this is ridiculous! can’t you just go back to the ISSP and beg for their forgiveness or - “
“i will never do that.” baekhyun snaps coldly. “they nearly killed me, they should be apologizing to me. now, get the fuck off my mothership if you don’t want me sending you off. the outcome is either you kill jongdae or jongdae gets you. so go. don’t bother with me again.”
“you won’t care if jongdae gets killed by me?”
a pause.
“i’m pretty sure he’ll kick your ass to jail, so no. the probability is close to zero.”
chanyeol retraces his steps, byun baekhyun’s words bouncing inside his head, and he sits in his spaceship for a while until he realizes that the rest of the bounty hunters would be here soon, and he goes away.
---
it’s been a few fucking weeks. jongdae is so frustrated, too tired - both physically and mentally - he knows this park chanyeol, knows the dangers facing him, ready to fight with him, ready to bring that criminal’s ass down - but he has never met him.
he throws another dart to the picture of park chanyeol, almost ruined and battered because of the continuous shooting, and screams.
jongdae kicks the dashboard in frustration and instead arranges to nap instead. he takes a final look at park chanyeol’s smiling and holed face, and somehow, he gets an comforting image of a man with fiery red hair and a skull-patterned mask covering three-quarters of his face.
---
they don’t meet for another few weeks. chanyeol decided that it’s enough. he needs to confront this problem himself and just get it done. kill jongdae or let jongdae haul his ass up to jail.
jongdae is observing the deserted street of some planet he doesn’t remember the name of, undoubtedly looking for him, since reports show that he was recently here. his posture is rigid and alert, eyes darting quickly, and chanyeol knows this is it.
“hey,” he says loudly, and jongdae looks back, bewildered and alarmed - but he gasps quietly when he sees chanyeol. he’s back on the hairstyle and clothes when he first met jongdae - the same shade of red and the same skull-patterned mask.
“you’re,” jongdae blinks, “the man i met some months ago. i wanted to keep the light alight in your eyes.” he covers his mouth embarrassedly, but chanyeol can only feel his bile rise up, the dread coming back to him.
“yeah,” chanyeol reaffirms, “but now you’ll want to haul my ass off to jail.”
he takes off his mask before jongdae can ask why, mouth grimacing, and jongdae almost vomits right then and there, because the hot man that he met is the infamous park chanyeol himself, the source of his fury and hatred and frustration over these past months.
“you - ?” he spits, the warm feeling boiling to confusion, then to fury. he’s angry at himself and he’s angry because chanyeol is chanyeol. “why - why did i even want - i was supposed to kick your ass to jail! i was supposed to fucking arrest you but i actually - i fucking fell for you!”
“seems like the feeling is mutual,” chanyeol growls. “i was supposed to kill you and kill byun baekhyun to get out of that shit syndicate with my sister, but now, i fell for you! i can’t kill either of you both, because it would kill me inside!”
“THAT’S NOT MY FUCKING PROBLEM!” jongdae screams. “WHY DID YOU EVEN HAVE TO BE SO PERFECT AND SO FUCKING ETHEREAL ANYWAY? WHY DO YOU EVEN NEED TO BE SO FUNNY AND SO CHEERFUL AND BRIGHT AND EVERYTHING I WANTED? THAT IS SO FUCKING UNFAIR, PARK CHANYEOL!”
chanyeol seethes. “WE’LL DON’T FUCKING ASK ME! YOU SHOULD BE ASKING YOURSELF! WHY ARE YOU SO DAZZLING AND PERFECT AND SHIT LIKE THAT! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU MAKING ME FALL FOR YOU? YOU ARE BEING SO UNFAIR!”
the first punch from jongdae is hard and full of a ball of mixed emotions. chanyeol retaliates almost immediately, years of experience rushing back to him, and they both end up on the ground, blood dripping silently and newly made bruise marks showing on their skin.
“w-why,” jongdae half-sobs and half-screams, “why are we even doing this?”
chanyeol answers it with a well-aimed kick on jongdae’s ribcage.
---
“jongdae, just please, just haul my ass off to jail and keep me locked there. i can’t kill you. i can’t kill anyone. i promised myself i won’t kill anyone. i promised that to my sister and i broke it once. i won’t break it again. i love you. i love you.”
(but i can’t, chanyeol. i love you, too. i can’t let you get tossed to jail just because of the crimes you did because of that syndicate. if you didn’t do those, you’d be dead. i don’t want you to be dead.)
“if i ever killed you, the flame on my eyes or whatever you loved about me would be gone. they would be extinguished. they can’t be re-lighted. please. i beg you. don’t make me kill again. i’ll be out in a few years anyway, you know?”
(i want to see those flames forever in your eyes, chanyeol.)
“i love you. please grant my wish. please just make me suffer so the stars in my eyes will still be alight because of you.”
---
wonshik nearly has a heart attack when jongdae steps out from his spaceship. it’s the first time in months, really, since wonshik has seen jongdae in person, but he will never be prepared for a bloodied and bruised jongdae limping his way out of the lighting.
“jongdae-hyung, what the fuck?”
“nice meeting you too, wonshik,” jongdae replies with a hoarse voice, as if he’d been screaming. “it has been a really, really great few months, eh?”
“you’re bleeding and shit, what do you mean it’s been great!” wonshik is shrieking. “jongin, get your ass over here and the first aid kid, fast! and why do you insist on being hurt all the fucking time?”
there’s a clang of metal colliding on metal before jongin screams, “coming!”
“that’s because i wanted to keep the stars in his eyes alight,” he bitterly replies, gingerly sitting down. “exactly because of that.”
jongin arrives with the first aid kit, still covered in oil grease, and he moans in frustration when he sees jongdae blabbering about stars in eyes being kept blinking or something. he weakly calls for the rest of them to be there, but before that, baekhyun comes running.
“you,” he thickly gulps. “you caught park chanyeol.”
“indeed,” jongdae laughs, and he isn’t sure if the water on his cheeks are sweat or tears.
For: yakiseop
Pairing: chen/chanyeol
Rating: pg13
Warnings: lapslock
Word count: 5395
Summary: space!au. jongdae notices that his eyes are like flames - and he wants to keep those flames alight for a long, long while.
the scene here is very misleading.
there is a boy with mussed up hair and a sad frown etched in his face, fingers dancing madly on the steering wheel - he doesn't even notice his ruined appearance. his eyes are bloodshot and there are blood splatters on his uniform - a once pristine and perfect white - and shadows smear inky bags under his eyes, curtaining his face with a look of death and gloom.
most people would think that he is sad.
however, he isn't just only sad. he's feeling a terrifying mixture of glee and sorrow, like too many colors mixed with each other, and it creates an indiscernible hue of uncertainty. he's angry and mad and relieved and happy, he's sick and tired and electrified. he is, in the end, a ball of varying emotions crumpled together.
life buzzes around him like flies, neverending, never stopping, and he wants it to stop.
he wants to fly off to the vast expanse outside mars, scoop one of the stars and let it burn his fingers, maybe. maybe he wants to rip this hideous uniform off and bathe the scent of luhan off him, he isn't that sure - if there is one thing he’s sure about, it’s about getting away..
he isn't sad. he's relieved - the weight has already been lifted off his shoulders, hasn't it? - but there's a voice whispering in the back of his head, hissing things like no, you aren't and you can fool yourself, but you can't fool your heart, do you know that?
the boy shifts uncomfortably. his name is jongdae.
---
fast-forward from that scene to several months later.
jongdae and the car aren’t here. no, it's replaced by a new bubble tea stand that offers deliciously disgusting combinations, and food experts recommend that you should never question the ingredients of the drinks. if you savor taste more than content, numerous food articles italicize, this is your place.
fun fact: jongdae doesn't even know this place, let alone like bubble tea.
he is, actually, miles and miles and miles away, up in the mothership - their mothership - surrounded by a vast nothingness, separating him from gaseous stars too many light years away to reach. he is fiddling with a laser gun vessel that a sympathetic wonshik has given him to cure his boredom.
("you look bored," wonshik had offered his observation, and jongdae nodded dully, too bored to humor the younger. wonshik shook his head while he smiled. "here. this gun is too broken to be fixed. use it for entertainment, i guess."
"thank you," jongdae mumbled.)
now, he's too focused on disassembling the gun to even notice the soft click, clack, click, clack of those familiar high heels; today, the thuds seemed to be lazy-sounding. of course, though, it would be understandable since it's three a.m. mars time, but in space, time means nothing.
jongdae had learned the hard way, a long, long time ago.
the sliding doors to the living room open wide and jongdae looks up.
"it's death a.m., what are you doing?" hyoyeon's voice seems to yawn, her blonde hair still bed-ridden and her eyes opening and closing blearily. "you should be asleep and grateful. baekhyun, amber and i stayed up until twelve to take care of your task. it's exhausting, jongdae - "
and somehow, she has positioned herself beside him on the couch. jongin would be in absolute envy if he was seeing this.
“- but that's the price for not endangering yourself and let another do the dirty work, eh?"
jongdae yanks the document off her fingers while he snorts. "i'm not doing the dirty work, noona, i'm doing the fun part, thank you very much," he recounts to her for the nth time, and hyoyeon grunts. "and, why do you never fail to make a joke sound so serious and morbid? it frightens me."
jongdae's eyes only skims at the flaming dragon syndicate when hyoyeon says, "amber and baekhyun are worried, though."
his mind replays the series of mental images when anyone mentions that syndicate - "luhan, you fool! you, you would have sacrificed baekhyun if it wasn't for me? why? why? junmyeon, yunho-hyung...you're...you're in support of this?" he himself screamed, his face deteriorating to pieces as the memory transforms to baekhyun's burned half, and it turns to him punching luhan, the blood, the scratches -
" - and they were right... to be... worried..." hyoyeon trails off slowly, snapping jongdae out of his memories and the rage that had started to boil when his mind replayed it. she sighs, exhaustion wiped off her face, only concern showing through it. "jongdae, if you're uncomfortable - i mean, when i saw the offer, i had to grab it. but, really, if you don't want to - we can always send wonshik or jongin off, of course, you deserve the rest - "
jongdae looks, to mildly put it, frightened of that prospect. "no," he denies immediately, vehemently. "i'm not going to risk them dying. no. the answer is no. absolutely not."
she nods, understandingly, and jongdae realizes that this is what makes him feel comfortable around hyoyeon; she doesn't push people to do what she thinks is right. instead, she gives them some pondering material to think about and let them decide for their own.
"i understand, jongdae. but think about what i said, okay? what i meant when i said baekhyun and amber are worried. being rash isn't a good thing in your line of work."
with that, she leaves him with a hug, the document, and the echoes of her high heels.
strangely, it reminds jongdae of a certain bitter kiss on his cheek.
---
chanyeol first hears jinri's shriek before he is almost hauled off from his spot, the younger girl hugging him tightly, never ever letting go.
"you've grown," chanyeol muses, messing up her hair, and she grumbles in discomfort ("that tickles!" she complains, flattening her bangs again, attempting to glare at chanyeol). it’s been two or three months since he was here, and really, she grew a few good centimeters. chanyeol knows she's quite taller than the average twelve-year-old.
he was quite tall for his age back then, and chanyeol thinks that people would mistake them as real siblings.
he buries that thought away and instead smiles at her. yifan and sehun jumps out of the spaceship, rough scratch marks still on their skin, like what chanyeol has. yifan's eyes soften considerably as he sees jinri, but not sehun's. his eyes are still as cold as steel, the rare silver amongst their usual brown.
"don't just stand there, help us get these out," sehun says it flatly. coming from sehun, though, it sounds more like an order, but before jinri can untangle herself from chanyeol and take her first step to the direction of the spaceship, the door to the hangar opens.
minseok walks in, eyes sweeping his surroundings, and when he sees jinri and chanyeol, he clears his throat.
"sorry," chanyeol mutters.
"don't be," minseok replies, but judging from his stiff voice, he's probably internally saying, good, you should be. not that chanyeol minds, anyway. the older has bigger debts to the syndicate, and he needs to be obedient so he can pay it off. "and so, i guess you returned safely and in one piece after all. congratulations for that."
yifan blinks incredulously. "uh, did you just," he says slowly, "sass us?"
minseok's cheek is slightly pinker but his indifferent mask remains in place. "that remains to be a secret," he says, and chanyeol can see sehun rolling his eyes. he is, chanyeol repeats for too many times in his head, a brat. an egotistical brat, to add that in. "and, the head of ISSP is here to - "
"let us all just skip the formalities," a voice calls out before the door is opened, revealing a male with the usual white and pristine ISSP uniform, carrying an air of authority around him. the three with jinri are frozen in place - in awe, and fear too, it seems - before jinki steps in and motions them to stand up straight. the new guy is smiling, though, too sincere and too nice. "hello, i am uknow, the new head of the ISSP. pleasure to meet you guys."
"likewise, sir," they all chorus - and to their amazement, uknow bursts out laughing.
"they're too polite!" he exclaims incredulously to minseok and jinki, who are previously glaring at them for even making anyone laugh. they seem baffled - scared, even - but uknow is still looking astonished. "i thought you would be a little harsher - but no! polite and courteous! that's a first!"
"sir," jinri asks, eyes blinking brightly (a little bit too brightly, if chanyeol is asked about it, too mischievous), "that is meant to be a compliment, right?"
minseok and jinki looks like they’re ready to melt from embarrassment.
“indeed it is,” uknow grins kindly (too kindly, chanyeol’s mind unhelpfully supplies) before he turns to chanyeol. “ah, park chanyeol, isn’t it? you have a special mission, and the pay is enough to get both you and jinri out of the syndicate.”
chanyeol nearly salivates.
“go with him, then,” jinki jerks his finger to uknow’s retreating figure, and chanyeol sends an apologetic look at sehun and yifan before he follows the older outside. chanyeol recognized the look in sehun’s metallic eyes too clearly, though.
envy. he has seen it too many times on his own eyes.
---
there is a slide of paper on wood, a rare thing in space. “you need to kill two of these people, park chanyeol.” too calm, too breezy, too carefree.
after that, a cough and a stutter, the voice following after in a disbelieving tone. “b-but i thought i clearly said to the syndicate when i joined, i don’t, can’t, and won’t kill anyone - “
a slam on the desk is the response. “don’t you want you and your sister to get out of here? you saved her, chanyeol, but at the price of what? your real sister - park yura, wasn’t it? she died protecting you and you killed her attacker. what’s the difference?”
“don’t...don’t bring up yura-noona - “
“park chanyeol, you are the most trained and talented criminal in this whole known galaxy, even though most people don’t know it, even though you don’t know it. killing is necessary in what you do, don’t you know that? and to refresh your memory, you already accepted the offer when you followed me outside.”
“ i - “ a sigh of exasperation, forced acceptance. “i’m - fine, whatever.”
---
the clock reads eight a.m. mars time, but the sun’s light is blocked by numerous sketches and documents, hung on every vertical platform available (including the windows). in the middle, there are two people: a boy and a girl, one hunched on her laptop and one scribbling something on his notebook.
they are both currently reviewing jongdae’s plan for his mission and they are doing paperwork for the official bounty hunter issues (confirmation letter, advance rewards, etc), which should be boring, but they don’t acknowledge the usual definition of boring.
“we need to sleep,” baekhyun states, and amber hums back in agreement, but they make no motion to suggest that they are stopping any time soon.
the clock goes to another minute, jongdae pops in the room and asks questions. they answer, wonshik and jongin both take turns going in to allow them to check the new weapons and upgrades. amber takes a break and baekhyun takes over, and it continues on.
as if they’re robots.
well, in a sense, they are.
“i’m worried about jongdae,” baekhyun breaks the comfortable silence, stopping his scribbling, and he puts them aside. “i mean, his close-combat fighting skills aren’t that good, like, if he uses a knife he’ll end up sticking it on his thigh or it ends up on the floor, and his punches aren’t even painful and - “
“baekhyun, focus on the topic. and we discussed this yesterday.”
“right, the topic,” baekhyun repeats. “and i know we discussed this yesterday with hyoyeon-noona. my left brain isn’t burned that bad, you know. but well…what if he meets luhan? the nerve of that guy, damn it. and junmyeon? or yunho? i don’t even want to call them with honorifics. they disgust me.”
baekhyun says that with such pleasantness that other people would think that he’s joking.
but he’s completely serious. that’s another effect of the burn - amber had guessed months earlier, that it had caused his emotion-to-muscle cell or whatever to be unresponsive (please excuse the non-medical language, amber is no medical prodigy).
“he’ll be completely fine. i know him. he’s my brother,” she replies.
baekhyun smiles, and she suspects that it’s actually a smirk. “oh?” he says, leaning to her. “but with those two years worth of stony silence, two years of disagreement and letter-ignoring, i don’t think you actually know him anymore.”
amber freezes.
“uh oh. i stepped on a line, didn’t i.”
“you never had respect for people’s lines, anyway,” she bristles, a bit bitter, and baekhyun’s eyelids droop a little bit, but his eyebrows are furrowed, as if he’s angry (in truth, he is, actually, angry at himself).
baekhyun offers a timid sorry, and even though he doesn’t know if amber accepted the apology or not because he, at least, tried.
he blabbers on. “i’m just,” he sighs, a complete change on the pleasant tone he used just a few moments ago, “really, really worried. i mean, like, you know how jongdae holds grudges. we’re like, the two closest person - wait, i meant people - to him, and well.” baekhyun bites his lips, he is actually pausing - a very, very, very rare occurrence - and so amber looks up, bewildered.
“amber, what if he kills this park chanyeol?”
amber takes a sharp intake of breath and stares at baekhyun. “he wouldn’t,” she says that with such conviction that baekhyun almost wanted to believe her too. “he would not,” she emphasizes, but her conviction is wavering, little by little, and her lips are trembling, slightly, too.
(but, really, they both know better.)
---
the night before his current assignment starts, jongdae visits mars for the first time in months, and lets himself go with a little (really, just a little) amount of alcohol. now, the only thing he’s thinking about is: i should get more, but i can’t. i promised jongin and amber and baekhyun that i’ll only be slightly tipsy. but i want more. but i can’t.
so he’s stuck on nursing a small glass of water, grumbling under his breath.
(well, jongdae’s sober enough to notice that a man is currently sitting beside him but not sober enough to recognize who he is.)
“hey,” a voice is heard from his left, and jongdae almost spills his water.
he takes a (not really) discreet look at the source of the voice, and he sees a cloth mask with skulls printed on it with a red color like fire dyed on its (jongdae hates assuming a person’s gender) hair. the mask covers three-quarters of the person’s face, revealing only his eyes.
jongdae isn’t sure how he can breathe with those mask. he is also isn’t sure how he himself can breathe with such a fine piece of ass in front of him. fuck, why is he even talking about the person’s flat ass? he must be really, really drunk.
“um, yeah, hi,” he replies, a little bit flustered. jesus, he absentmindedly thinks, i’m trained to negotiate with criminals and i’m this flustered when some hot guy approaches me? get your shit together, kim jongdae. “why are you talking to me?”
“because i want to?” the stranger’s voice is muffled by the cloth covering his mouth, but it’s strangely clear for jongdae. that’s a bit strange. “and you seem cute. what’s your name?”
“i don’t give names to strangers,” jongdae waves dismissively, words starting to slur a bit.
the stranger obnoxiously laughs, with tufts of hair bouncing and his hand slapping his knees a bit too hard, but it’s droned below people’s chatters and the strange music coming out of the speakers. “i wasn’t asking for names,” he reminds jongdae when he’s recovered. “i was asking for your name.”
“oh.” a pause. “it’s jongdae.”
the roar of laughter continues. “i can’t believe that worked!” the man barks, too crystal clearly for an obviously tipsy jongdae, but he can’t give a damn. he laughs - unpleasantly - but it is no match to the stranger beside him.
(the man’s stance stiffens for a short while, eyes unblinking, but of course, of course, jongdae doesn’t notice. he’s oblivious most of the time, and now, when he’s tipsy, he is even more oblivious.)
“what’s your name, then?” jongdae asks curiously, slowly sipping the half-full glass of water.
“you can call me fire.”
“wow, that’s rad, man. i mean like, fire is supposed to be hot and shit like that and you’re hot as fuck so. fuck, did i really say that i’m sorry.”
---
it’s a mix of laughter and solemn silence after that between them, though the chatters and sighs of people rising over the dubstep (jongdae had learned the word for that strange music through fire) serves as a background music for their conversation.
fire has consumed lots of those drinks, too, but his eyes are still their usual flame, never dying out - when it usually does for most people. well, for the people the bounty hunter has met.
jongdae notices that - and he wants to keep those flames alight for a long, long while.
---
chanyeol slams the door to his rented car and kicks the engine to motion, cursing his over-enthusiastic mouth profusely under his breath, a skull-patterned mask discarded on the dashboard and flaming red hair seeming more angry in the harsh streetlights of three a.m.
the puzzle pieces are too easy to solve, it seems.
“i was supposed to fucking kill him,” chanyeol grits his teeth, speeding up, “not fall for him.”
---
after a harsh one-hour scolding from amber and wonshik’s hideous hangover soup, jongdae is now boarded in his (“beautiful,” he once cooed, “my beautiful, pretty baby”) starship, baekhyun’s voice droning inside his headphones.
“remember the plan,” baekhyun’s pleasant voice reminds him for the upteenth time, jongin and amber bickering and the sound of clacking keyboard faintly heard in the distance. “you search for information by going to the places that park chanyeol and his minions has stolen from. be on guard all the time. be prepared to hurt and kill and stuff like that. jesus, being your navigator makes my head spin.”
“fuck off,” jongdae sleazily yawns, checking his coordinates. “i didn’t mean to be that drunk, okay. i don’t even remember what happened yesterday. at least i flew to the mothership safely and i barely scraped my baby’s paint job.”
“maybe you got laid, maybe you fucked someone. and stop describing the lighting as your baby, that’s gross as fuck.”
he doesn’t even bat an eyelash as he turns the booster on. “my ass doesn’t feel sore and my dick doesn’t feel amazing. i think the probability that sex happened is a close zero percent. and i can describe the lightning however i want, thank you very much.”
there’s an urgent pace on baekhyun’s quiet keyboard-tapping now. “the hatch will be opened in fifteen. move both yours and the lighting’s butt out.”
jongdae checks the surrounding of the hangar, metal still gleaming like the first time he joined this team of bounty hunters, and his heart aches a bit at the fact that he probably wouldn’t see it for the next few months.
the spaceship flies out and he hears the team cheering. he can also make out jongin’s terrible pick-up line, most likely directed to hyoyeon. the stars look heavenly today, at eleven a.m. mars time.
the hyperspace gate looms just before him, a few good hundred meters away.
“communication will be cut off for seven minutes because of the hyperspace gate. repeat this when you arrive at the galaxy of andromeda: byun baekhyun is the real shit. best of luck, my dear, dear bounty-hunter-slash-best-friend kim jongdae.”
“copy that,” jongdae snorts. “best of luck on handling the piece of shit that is me, too, navigator byun baekhyun.”
the lighting zooms inside the gate and all is dark for jongdae.
---
chanyeol changes his hair to a shade of the darkest black, then cuts and styles it à la mister spock (chanyeol used to love star trek when he’s a kid, but he barely remembers anything about it anymore). his style is also reduced to baggy shorts and tie-dyed t-shirts, but that’s okay.
(no, it’s never okay.)
he got the information where byun baekhyun would be this day - alone in the mothership, the rest of the group off to the council meeting or whatever on the surface of mars. he’s going to kill him. he’s going to take the money for killing kim jongdae and byun baekhyun and pay for his and jinri’s debt and actually be free.
(but, didn’t you fall for this kim jongdae, chanyeol? and the file uknow left you said that kim jongdae is close with this byun baekhyun. you don’t want to break his heart, don’t you, chanyeol?)
killing would be easy, wouldn’t it? just a strike to the artery and it’s done.
the mothership is on sight and chanyeol activates the invisibility booster made by minseok. the man is stern, but chanyeol’s got to admit, he has a very skilled brain and even more skilled hands to built such a thing.
the hatch opens when he presses the hack button. once again, he has to thank minseok.
his spaceship lands quietly and he hops off it, his small dagger perfectly held in his right hand’s grasp. the boots make no sound, and he follows the map copied in his head, leading straight to the navigator’s control room.
byun baekhyun’s left half was burned during the betrayal he and kim jongdae did to the ISSP, but he unfortunately survived. his left brain is still working, but with some injuries. some of his nerve cells are burned. he may be warm and perfectly pleasant, but he might be plotting your murder. the destroyed left half is replaced with android parts.
chanyeol opens the door leisurely.
sure enough, byun baekhyun is sitting on the couch, the navigation control deck left unattended. he’s not smiling or frowning - the perfect picture of blankness - but his eyes are staring sharply at him, fingers interlocked with each other.
(come on, you can’t kill him, the ISSP are bitches anyway, they deserved that shit - )
“i know why you are here,” baekhyun starts flatly. “just get it done, please. kill me with that super cool move in those old movies, like burning me or throwing me out the spaceship so i’d have no oxygen to breathe and just die.”
chanyeol is taken aback and doubt starts to eat him up again.
after a few seconds of heavy silence, baekhyun stands up. “it looks like you’re not going to kill me?” he inquires, but he sounds like he just stated a fact. “good. i’m going back on monitoring jongdae.”
before he can stop himself, the question is out of his mouth.
“what do you know about jongdae?”
baekhyun eyes him with no emotion. “he’s a great friend. i used to love him, by the way. i know now it’s hopeless, jongdae’s too scared he’ll be betrayed again by his own love. so it’s just that platonic best friend thing now. do you know? he used to date that fucktard luhan. that son of a bitch betrayed his own boyfriend, a.k.a jongdae. real cool, right?”
the file said nothing about that, and chanyeol is not prepared by the facts that are spilling out of baekhyun’s mouth.
“y-you used to like - ?” he asks, a loss for words, and baekhyun nods. “and - you mean that luhan - the luhan? - uknow’s right hand thing? that luhan who’s described as - ?”
“angelic with a sense of justice, the man with perfect manners, yes,” baekhyun answers, almost looking annoyed. “he’s not. trust me. jongdae and i have been in the ISSP for two years and that man is nothing like an angel. he blackmails people for his job and his dream is to make yunho fall from his throne as the head of the ISSP and take the job for himself. schadenfreude much? by the way, yunho is uknow. the connection between uknow and yunho, i don’t know.”
after a few moments of stunned silence from chanyeol, baekhyun realizes something. “hey, that rhymed.”
“that’s not the point!” chanyeol ludicrously shouts. “this thing, whatever you have, this is ridiculous! can’t you just go back to the ISSP and beg for their forgiveness or - “
“i will never do that.” baekhyun snaps coldly. “they nearly killed me, they should be apologizing to me. now, get the fuck off my mothership if you don’t want me sending you off. the outcome is either you kill jongdae or jongdae gets you. so go. don’t bother with me again.”
“you won’t care if jongdae gets killed by me?”
a pause.
“i’m pretty sure he’ll kick your ass to jail, so no. the probability is close to zero.”
chanyeol retraces his steps, byun baekhyun’s words bouncing inside his head, and he sits in his spaceship for a while until he realizes that the rest of the bounty hunters would be here soon, and he goes away.
---
it’s been a few fucking weeks. jongdae is so frustrated, too tired - both physically and mentally - he knows this park chanyeol, knows the dangers facing him, ready to fight with him, ready to bring that criminal’s ass down - but he has never met him.
he throws another dart to the picture of park chanyeol, almost ruined and battered because of the continuous shooting, and screams.
jongdae kicks the dashboard in frustration and instead arranges to nap instead. he takes a final look at park chanyeol’s smiling and holed face, and somehow, he gets an comforting image of a man with fiery red hair and a skull-patterned mask covering three-quarters of his face.
---
they don’t meet for another few weeks. chanyeol decided that it’s enough. he needs to confront this problem himself and just get it done. kill jongdae or let jongdae haul his ass up to jail.
jongdae is observing the deserted street of some planet he doesn’t remember the name of, undoubtedly looking for him, since reports show that he was recently here. his posture is rigid and alert, eyes darting quickly, and chanyeol knows this is it.
“hey,” he says loudly, and jongdae looks back, bewildered and alarmed - but he gasps quietly when he sees chanyeol. he’s back on the hairstyle and clothes when he first met jongdae - the same shade of red and the same skull-patterned mask.
“you’re,” jongdae blinks, “the man i met some months ago. i wanted to keep the light alight in your eyes.” he covers his mouth embarrassedly, but chanyeol can only feel his bile rise up, the dread coming back to him.
“yeah,” chanyeol reaffirms, “but now you’ll want to haul my ass off to jail.”
he takes off his mask before jongdae can ask why, mouth grimacing, and jongdae almost vomits right then and there, because the hot man that he met is the infamous park chanyeol himself, the source of his fury and hatred and frustration over these past months.
“you - ?” he spits, the warm feeling boiling to confusion, then to fury. he’s angry at himself and he’s angry because chanyeol is chanyeol. “why - why did i even want - i was supposed to kick your ass to jail! i was supposed to fucking arrest you but i actually - i fucking fell for you!”
“seems like the feeling is mutual,” chanyeol growls. “i was supposed to kill you and kill byun baekhyun to get out of that shit syndicate with my sister, but now, i fell for you! i can’t kill either of you both, because it would kill me inside!”
“THAT’S NOT MY FUCKING PROBLEM!” jongdae screams. “WHY DID YOU EVEN HAVE TO BE SO PERFECT AND SO FUCKING ETHEREAL ANYWAY? WHY DO YOU EVEN NEED TO BE SO FUNNY AND SO CHEERFUL AND BRIGHT AND EVERYTHING I WANTED? THAT IS SO FUCKING UNFAIR, PARK CHANYEOL!”
chanyeol seethes. “WE’LL DON’T FUCKING ASK ME! YOU SHOULD BE ASKING YOURSELF! WHY ARE YOU SO DAZZLING AND PERFECT AND SHIT LIKE THAT! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU MAKING ME FALL FOR YOU? YOU ARE BEING SO UNFAIR!”
the first punch from jongdae is hard and full of a ball of mixed emotions. chanyeol retaliates almost immediately, years of experience rushing back to him, and they both end up on the ground, blood dripping silently and newly made bruise marks showing on their skin.
“w-why,” jongdae half-sobs and half-screams, “why are we even doing this?”
chanyeol answers it with a well-aimed kick on jongdae’s ribcage.
---
“jongdae, just please, just haul my ass off to jail and keep me locked there. i can’t kill you. i can’t kill anyone. i promised myself i won’t kill anyone. i promised that to my sister and i broke it once. i won’t break it again. i love you. i love you.”
(but i can’t, chanyeol. i love you, too. i can’t let you get tossed to jail just because of the crimes you did because of that syndicate. if you didn’t do those, you’d be dead. i don’t want you to be dead.)
“if i ever killed you, the flame on my eyes or whatever you loved about me would be gone. they would be extinguished. they can’t be re-lighted. please. i beg you. don’t make me kill again. i’ll be out in a few years anyway, you know?”
(i want to see those flames forever in your eyes, chanyeol.)
“i love you. please grant my wish. please just make me suffer so the stars in my eyes will still be alight because of you.”
---
wonshik nearly has a heart attack when jongdae steps out from his spaceship. it’s the first time in months, really, since wonshik has seen jongdae in person, but he will never be prepared for a bloodied and bruised jongdae limping his way out of the lighting.
“jongdae-hyung, what the fuck?”
“nice meeting you too, wonshik,” jongdae replies with a hoarse voice, as if he’d been screaming. “it has been a really, really great few months, eh?”
“you’re bleeding and shit, what do you mean it’s been great!” wonshik is shrieking. “jongin, get your ass over here and the first aid kid, fast! and why do you insist on being hurt all the fucking time?”
there’s a clang of metal colliding on metal before jongin screams, “coming!”
“that’s because i wanted to keep the stars in his eyes alight,” he bitterly replies, gingerly sitting down. “exactly because of that.”
jongin arrives with the first aid kit, still covered in oil grease, and he moans in frustration when he sees jongdae blabbering about stars in eyes being kept blinking or something. he weakly calls for the rest of them to be there, but before that, baekhyun comes running.
“you,” he thickly gulps. “you caught park chanyeol.”
“indeed,” jongdae laughs, and he isn’t sure if the water on his cheeks are sweat or tears.