Shadow Lurkers
Shadow Lurkers
Pairing: Mihno!centric, Onew!centric, slight 2min
Word count: ~2.600
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Murder, Swearing
Sumarry: Minho is an assassin. Onew is an assassin too. But Jinki isn't one. What will happen when the precious balance is lost?
A/N: “Onew looks way more threatening straight-faced than Minho does for often than not. Minho with his derp deep voice and serious business face like ‘I’m going to kill you.’ Then Onew with his deep smooth voice with a pinch of that smile and like, petting you and ‘I’m going to kill you’. Onew’s way scarier. Onew’s the crazed murder and Minho is his derpy sidekick who has to calm some of Onew’s more crazy tendencies.” (credits to th epersons that wrote this.Sorry couldn't find who that was). This fic is the result of me reading the above and seeing these two pictures.
Minho felt the familiar adrenalin rush he always had before completing one of his jobs. He eyed the man sleeping peacefully in his extra-double and comfy bed. Earlier he had watched him bring in two strippers and have the kind of ‘quality’ time only a high priced whore could give you. He scoffed at the thought. If you asked him, they weren’t worthy of the money they received at the end.
He bent over the rich man, just a faceless dark silhouette hovering in the shadows. With a feather-like touch he lifted with his gloved hand a big, plush pillow and brought it above the unfortunate guy. He didn’t have anything against him. He didn’t even know him; well, besides seeing him in the headlines all the time. The man was, after all, the president of the biggest company in Korea. The ones who wanted him dead where his business rivals.
With a quick and well-practiced move he landed the pillow perfectly on the soon-to-be-dead man’s face, who woke up startled and did what they all do in this situation. He panicked, started moving abruptly his arms and legs trying to shake Minho’s hold on the pillow and thus be saved. Little did he know that in Minho’s long career there was no one that managed to escape their death. He took pride in the fact that he was known as a perfect assassin in the underworld. As an answer to the struggling, Minho merely applied more pressure. He was a strong man; the adrenalin just added some more force to his ridiculous strength. After a while the struggle lessened and eventually stopped altogether. He started to feel bored; a perfectly executed job was a good thing but he missed the action. He was sick and tired of being sent to kill rich, fat, old men.
Minho waited for a few more minutes with the pillow on the other’s face. When the man didn’t move he discarded the pillow-turned-deadly-weapon to its previous position and checked for the man’s pulse. He didn’t find any. Satisfied, he turned around to walk out of the luxurious room. Now he only needed to wait until tomorrow morning when the news about this president’s death broke out and he would get the rest of his payment.
He climbed out the window with a grace that you would not have thought possible of such a tall man, closed it carefully behind him, fastened the rope around his self-designed belt and started his descent from the eleventh floor, enjoying the cool breeze on his way down.
His landing was perfect and he proceeded to gather the rope. He would never leave anything of his behind for the damned detectives to find. They would figure out quickly that the old geezer was murdered; as soon as the results of the autopsy came to their hands. But they won’t have enough evidence to point out a suspect. And even if they have, it won’t be pointing at him.
The way home was quiet and uneventful. Who would think that the man walking beside them was a professional killer? When he reached his building he saw that the lights where on. Taemin had stayed up waiting for him again. He shook his head but was secretly feeling happy for that fact.
“Welcome home!” He was greeted with the big, warm smile of his boyfriend; the one and only failure of his career. But he had made sure that no person alive knew about that. It was beyond his understanding why anyone would want a teenager dead. He could still remember it clearly, it was the first time in his life that he had hesitated. He stood there, bent over the sleeping boy and he found out that he couldn’t kill him. He just couldn’t. He made up his mind at that moment. He wanted that boy for himself. In an instant he was out of the room and was heading to his client’s house. All of his clients thought that the deals were made anonymously, that they said ‘kill the person I need dead and I’ll pay you’. End of story. If only they knew that they were all catalogued and researched. Minho was a professional after all. And blackmail for times of need is a given thing for someone like him.
“I’m back. Why are you still up? You have lessons tomorrow.” he chastised the younger boy without really meaning it.
“Aish, hyung, I’m in college. I can stay up late.” he protested and lifted his hands to Minho’s waist, bringing him closer and tilting his head, waiting for his kiss.
“Mmmm…You want to say you’re all grown up now?” His voice trailed off seductively and his hands went to hover over his lower back, ready to move him closer.
“Yes. And hyung? When will you tell me what your job is exactly?” Taemin stubbornly tried to stay unaffected by his hyung’s charms.
“I told you, I’ll tell you some other time.” He refused to answer yet again and lowered his head.
“But….” the other mumbled a little breathlessly, excited by the close proximity between Minho’s mouth and his ear.
“Do you really want to discuss this now?” The taller man sucked lightly the younger’s ear and started leaving a trail of wet kisses as he went further and further down. A wanton moan escaped Taemin and he found he didn’t care about that matter anymore. Well, at least for now.
***
“Ya! What the hell do you mean you quit?” Jinki exclaimed furious.
“Keep your damn voice down! People are going to stare.” Minho hissed and glared at his best friend.
“How can I be calm when you talk bullshit? Did you even think before speaking this crap?” Jinki’s voice volume was lowered but his tone remained dangerously pissed off.
Minho knows better than anyone not to anger him and what kind of man his best friend is. A cold-hearted, blood lusting killer. Nothing more, nothing less. Unlike him, Jinki loves his job, maybe too much. He loves the ‘adventure’ as he calls it, he loves the thrill; but most of all, he loves the killing. Too many a time had Jinki confessed that the killing was not only the favorite part of his job, but also his life’s. His killing methods are the exact opposite of Minho’s as well. Whereas Minho is silent, swift, clean and never touches anything unnecessary, Jinki, or rather Onew as his business name is, leaves behind him literally a bloody catastrophe and as many corpses as he can. Yes, Onew is infamous for being the exact opposite of his nickname; ruthless and bloodthirsty. This is actually one of the reasons he picked this alias while the second is his own personal fetish: he just has to get to know personally the person he is going to kill, charm them with his blinding smile, goofy and good-natured façade. Then as he is about to finish them of, he takes of the mask he wears while he tortures them, smirks evilly and kills them the moment recognition lightens up their eyes for the last time.
“Jinki you know how long I’ve been doing this job. Since I was freakin’ 14! I’m 22 now and so tired of all this. Also, I have earned enough money to last me two lifetimes. Why the fuck shouldn’t I stop?”
“Because that’s what you know, what you do best! Because that’s your life! Didn’t we promise when we started that we would be in this together? Until the end.” Jinki tried to control his temper and make his best friend remember who they are and why they became like this in the first place.
“No Jinki, this is your life, not mine.” Minho denies the older man’s words, sadness profound in his eyes.
“This is all because of Taemin, isn’t it? He’s making you soft. You weren’t like this before you met him. He’s changing you. But you can’t run away from who you are Minho!” Jinki said his voice cold. He was seeing red now. Everything was covered in a blood-colored haze that threatened to overwhelm him.
Chills run down Minho’s spine. Jinki’s slightly unfocused eyes and calm, too calm, voice were noted immediately. “Of course it isn’t about Taemin and you know that! Even though I’m good at it, I never liked this job as you do. Yes, it is second nature for me and I enjoy it to an extent, but I can live without it. I want to live without it.” he tried to make the other man see reason. But at that moment his survival instincts, developed more than in most humans due to his job’s nature, kicked in and told him that his friend was no longer there, that he was sitting and talking to Onew now. He felt scared for the first time since he became a killer, but not for himself. Onew was very vengeful and the type to make you suffer. And the only way to make Minho suffer was through his one and only weak point, Taemin.
Jinki froze suddenly. Something felt terribly wrong. What he is doing is wrong, so very wrong. Then why can’t he stop himself? Why can’t he bring himself to turn around; just walk away and let his friend be? He should be able to do it, Onew hasn’t taken over yet. Then why?
He looked at the sleeping couple. Taemin is sleeping relaxed, peaceful while Minho retains his stern expression albeit unconscious, a small frown barely visible in the shadows of the moonlight. Even in his sleep he has Taemin clutched tightly to him as if afraid of the other disappearing suddenly; which he is. Because of what he is about to do and because of Onew.
The alarm system was already blocked; he could see and avoid the microscopic (invisible to ordinary people) traps all over the house. He has the tool needed to cut open the glass of the window in his hand. He knows the best way to kill them. But he is unable to do anything. He can’t leave. But he can’t go in either. He stays there, hanging mid-air, arguing with himself. As an experienced assassin he isn’t supposed to be hesitating. He should be able to go in there, finish off those two and enjoy it as he has done countless times in the past. But where is the usual joy, the usual excitement? Killing never felt like killing to him before. It was a unique last dance of bodies filled with blood, terror and excitement. He never felt pity or had any hesitation in executing his job. So why does it feel so different now?
An uncomfortable but nonetheless familiar copper-tasting, hungry for bloodbath sensation stirred in the pit of his stomach. Jinki started panicking. If he didn’t leave now he was sentencing his only friend to sure death. But even though he understood that, he couldn’t move from his spot. He felt like roots were keeping him immobile against the window, staring at the one person in this world who had accepted the real, two faced Jinki.
Is this what Minho felt the night he decided to play god and alter Taemin’s fate? Did he feel his throat painfully dry like his is? Were his hands trembling, not from fascination, but from agony as his are? Was he having trouble breathing like he does? Did he feel his head ready to explode from the confusion between logic and emotions? Did he feel his heart ready to break from the overwhelming guilt?
His breathing became erratic and he clutched his hand over his heart.
***
Minho woke up with a start when two big hands closed over his throat with monstrous pressure. His eyes flew open and he saw Jinki over him. No, not Jinki but Onew, his mind reasoned despite the situation he was in. He didn’t waste any time and lifted his hands in an attempt to free himself from the other’s strong grip. Every move he made was to no vain. Onew was guarding excellently and the lack of oxygen was taking its toll on him.
Taemin started screaming from the shock of the scene that was being unraveled before his eyes. Upon hearing the horror filled screams of his beloved, Minho doubled the force of his efforts. But no matter how much he hit, pushed, kicked, willed the other off of him, the monstrous killer side of his best friend didn’t budge an inch. Onew simply smirked at the desperate actions and continued to watch fascinated as he struggled helplessly.
Black spots started obstructing his vision. Heavy weight settled on his chest and moving arms, slowing them down. He understood he would die in a matter of seconds. Fear of not seeing his most loved person again gripped his heart. Abandoning his useless struggle, with the last bit of power remaining in him, he turned his head to Taemin, reached out to him and somehow managed to whisper with his abused throat “I love you”.
***
Taemin was woken up by a painful kick on his ribs. He saw a man on top of Minho, chocking him. He didn’t realize that the ear-piercing scream was his own until he felt his throat hurt. He moved to help his boyfriend but at that moment he saw him reaching for him and whispering a barely audible ‘I love you’. He watched in horror as life left Minho’s big, dark eyes.
***
Onew turned to the red haired boy that was frozen on spot from seeing Minho’s death. Behold the infamous Taemin. He chuckled, amused by the unbelieving expression on the younger’s face.
“You know, I wanted to kill you first, to make him suffer. But I’m not stupid. There is no way I would be able to kill him after doing so.” he said, his excitement growing as the desperation on the other’s face was becoming more and more evident. He got near him in a flash and placed the blade of his most favourite and sharp knife at his aorta. With a quick and clean cut the sliced open Taemin’s throat.
The boy placed his hands over the wound as if he could hold the blood from spilling out of him. He laughed at this idiotic gesture every single person does. The chocking sounds sent shivers of pleasure down his spine; his laugh got louder and louder, crazier and more evil with every drop of blood that fell on the bed, with every choke he heard. It was with a core deep satisfaction that he witnessed the reason of Minho’s betrayal leave his last breath on this earth. A euphoric sensation of accomplishment overtook him as the second lifeless body in this room fell with an empty thud on the bed.
***
Jinki came to his senses standing in front of the bed in which preciously the happy couple slept. if you could ignore all the blood that was soaking the sheets, the soon to be cold bodies and their distorted expressions, you could say they still slept, 'Yes, they are going to be asleep forever, happy in each other arms.' Jinki thought in despair as he collapsed on his knees in front of it, sobs shaking his body, staring unbelievingly at his own blooded hands.