Thirteen: The Troublemakers II (Ocean's Eleven AU)
Title: The Troublemakers II (Background story of Thirteen Series)
Author: himawarixxsandz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): ZiKyung
Summary: They've always been told
A/N: promised you guys another update during my break so here you aRE i hope everyone who's from the US of A had a happy super fat coma-inducing thanksgivingggg -3-
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3
In the end, Yukwon isn’t honestly to blame even partially for most of this. While Jiho is more than faintly irritated that Yukwon hadn’t intervened a little, as it turns out, Kang Daeho-the one whom wanted the hit out on Son Jaehyung’s accounts in the first place-had secretly asked Yukwon to commission two thieves for the same reason that any other heartbroken, nervous, shaken, newly-betrayed rookie in the cold business world would: little to no actual belief that one thief would get the job done.
Frankly, Jiho is insulted.
Yukwon, however, seems to think that being insulted is both a waste of time and potential money and thusly turns Kyung and Jiho out of the suite, sending them on their way for another extra week of planning-redoing recon. “Seven days,” the naked thief says, blanket swathed around his body as he stands in the doorway, eyes slanted and pretty and menacing. “Kang wants the job done by then and I want my money by then.”
And then the door is slammed in their faces.
They get a room together at the, albeit smaller and far less expensive, hotel beside the one Yukwon and Dongsun are staying at. Jiho likes to travel light on jobs and thought that it wouldn’t take more than one day, and thus literally took the train here with nothing but his own two hands, ready to hack into the server and do the necessary. Kyung, apparently though, actually lives in this part of Seoul.
“Like I’m going to take you back to my apartment,” Kyung snorts, as they arrive at their assigned hotel room-twin beds, two bathrooms, complete with a living room and a partial kitchen.
Jiho collapses face down onto the bed near the window. “Why not?” His voice is muffled against the pillow. “We’ve slept together. I’ve seen you naked.”
Kyung sits down on the edge of the other bed, facing Jiho. “We were seven.”
“Doesn’t look like anything’s changed to me,” Jiho shrugs as he sits up. He makes a clear show of raking his eyes up and down Kyung’s body.
But Kyung remains unfazed, just an odd curve to his lips as he raises his eyebrows and shrugs right back. His eyes meet Jiho’s steadily and neither of them is smiling right now-whereas in any other situation, had they reunited in another place and time, this might’ve been the start of some banter like days past. As it stands now, though, Jiho is feeling rather defensive and he knows Kyung is on the defense as well-barriers up and wariness turned on to full blast.
“I’m going to shower,” Kyung gets to his feet without another glance at Jiho and heads for one of the bathrooms.
Jiho watches the door lock and close before standing up himself and heading out of the hotel. He has absolutely nothing, and he’s going to need to buy enough clothes to last him through the week and possibly into the first half of next week in case he needs to stave off the authorities and head somewhere that isn’t home for a while.
Kyung is asleep by the time Jiho returns, arms full of shopping bags (some of them clothes and some of them disguises) and stomach full of noodles and fried pork. The light brown hair on the pillow is still damp and Jiho smells shampoo and steam coming out from the bathroom.
The next morning, they wake up-they eat-they dress-they move about the room with few words and plenty of glowering. The few words they do exchange are during breakfast-with Jiho shoveling rice and eggs into his mouth on the sofa and Kyung slurping cup noodles in the kitchen-and they’re words about recon shifts. Kyung is to head out first into the office, still under the guise of a deliveryman making his rounds, and watch Jaehyung up until noon when Jiho is to take over by introducing himself as Jaehyung’s temporary assistant (since Jiho had already done the work to hack into the files previously and have Jaehyung’s actual assistant believing he’s on extended vacation).
As soon as Kyung leaves, all done up just like yesterday in full mailman gear and ready to con another cart of packages from the office’s actual mailman, Jiho collapses onto the sofa and flicks on the television. He settles in for a listless few hours until noon. This is the part of recon he hates, and he hates it even more so with a partner-and even more so with a partner he can’t trust and, really, doesn’t know.
You can’t really know a person at eight-years old.
Personally, Kyung thinks that this job is bound to move slower-bound to finish messily-now that he’s being forced to work with Jiho. He doesn’t like working with a partner, no exceptions to that opinion because Kyung works best alone-and if he absolutely must, he’d rather work with someone quick and efficient and someone who knows how to use sources instead of so adamantly fucking insisting to hack into a server the old-fucking-fashioned way.
And the fact that Jiho thinks Kyung is actually going to dedicate four days to pure recon doesn’t shed the brightest of lights on the way Jiho’s intellect has developed in the past eleven years. Kyung rolls his eyes to himself as he pushes the cart briskly up to Jaehyung’s office door and knocks twice with his knuckles.
In the few seconds it takes Jaehyung to walk to the door, Kyung swiftly unbuttons the collar of the uniform, musses his hair, licks his lips until they’re pinked and wet and-from months of working with Yukwon-turns off everything that is distinctly Park Kyung in his eyes and changes it to something else entirely. (and Yukwon’s even told him that it works so well for Kyung because Kyung’s eyes are easily large and round and deceptive in every light imaginable)
“Good morning, sir,” Kyung breathes with feigned business in his tone.
Son Jaehyung, in his late thirties with at least half a foot on Kyung and several tens of pounds, seems to swallow dryly. He’s every bit the rapidly aging CEO and every bit the conniving businessman with harsh lines across his face and narrowed eyes. Really, Jiho is useless to Kyung and Kyung is of every bit of use to Jiho because Jiho could never do what Kyung is about to. It’s just not a skill set Jiho can have, looking like that, and this is going to reduce their recon from fucking four days to two hours-if Kyung works fast enough.
“I have a package for you,” Kyung says brightly, widening his eyes and tilting his head in a way that makes his eyes look that much bigger (his lashes that much longer and-if he could’ve-he would’ve taken Yukwon’s eyeliner).
Jaehyung steps to the side and Kyung cheerily rolls the cart inside. His cheerfulness is amped up a few levels when he hears the slam and lock of the door behind him.
(because while Kyung hadn’t been thorough enough in the recon the first time around, he had found out that Son Jaehyung has been divorced three times all due to incidents that hadn’t exactly been specified, although cheating was implied and yet there’d never been any revelation as to who the cheating had happened with and really the signs were too easy to read-considering the divorces had always been followed by the firing of a young, male employee under Jaehyung’s tutelage
and that’s all Kyung needs to know)
“You’re late,” is what Jiho decides to open with upon Kyung’s return.
It’s five in the evening and Jiho was supposed to have received a call or a text or something from Kyung five hours ago to tell Jiho to come in for his shift. And yet, Jiho had fallen asleep on the couch with no alerts to wake him and when he had woken up it was already half past four. Kyung stands now in the doorway with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder, the outer shirt of the mailman uniform over the other, white undershirt loose and thin against his small frame, hair tousled and face flushed.
“I dropped by my place to pick up some clothes,” is the answer and Kyung tosses the duffel bag onto his bed.
But Jiho catches the hidden grin on Kyung’s face, the slight limp in the other man’s step, and the way Kyung so very obviously knows something-and it’s a look that Jiho sees all the time on Yukwon whenever they work together. Jiho has a feeling that he’s right but he wishes he was wrong but he knows that he usually isn’t so he takes the risk that really isn’t one and asks, “Who fucked you?”
He leaves it open-ended because he wants to hope.
“Jaehyung,” Kyung responds easily and the hope breaks into little pieces of irritation.
Jiho blocks Kyung’s path, preventing the other man from making it to the bathroom for an easy escape. Kyung still doesn’t look fazed, tipping his head up indifferently to meet Jiho’s eyes head on. And from this angle, Jiho can see the discolored splotches on Kyung’s neck and collarbone and it bothers Jiho a little even though he knows that this is nothing new-it’s just another way of doing a job and Yukwon does it all the time.
“He arrives at the office every day at seven in the morning,” Kyung says, as if reciting his times tables, “he eats breakfast in his own personal office until seven-twenty and then he goes for his morning conferences up until nine. His schedule was pinned to the wall across his desk and he has regular conferences in the morning for the rest of this week and Tuesday of next. He takes a coffee break after the morning conferences up until nine-thirty-five and then he’s in his personal office until ten-thirty. H-”
“How-”
Kyung shrugs. “I asked. He told me. And there were clues all over the office. He’s not the cleanest guy in the world. Empty coffee cans, plates of food, little notes from his secretary reminding him to turn things in, his phone ringing while I was blowing him-”
“Okay,” Jiho rubs at his eyes and takes a step back away from Kyung because being so close to Park Kyung is beginning to make Jiho’s head throb. He’s not just irritated at this point-he’s thoroughly annoyed, incredibly exasperated, frustrated that he wasn’t at least briefed about a change of plans, a little bit angry that Kyung thought it was okay to just up and improvise, and mildly furious that Kyung probably didn’t let him in due to the fact that Kyung has made it painfully obvious how stupid he thinks Jiho is.
Kyung raises his eyebrows. “Okay,” he echoes. “So I’ll tell you the rest after I shower. Move.”
And Jiho steps to the side without another argument because he needs to call the front desk and ask for a hotel staff to bring up some aspirin.
The next day is dedicated to plans of the building.
Kyung, having been in the building at least three times, does believe that he’s the obvious choice to draw them out or acquire a copy from Jaehyung’s office himself. Unfortunately, Jiho is so thickly dense that he doesn’t share that obvious belief and Kyung hardly has time to finish breakfast before he realizes that Jiho most likely hadn’t gone down to the convenience store to get some soda.
It’s a full three hours before Jiho actually returns-it’s lunchtime by the time Jiho returns and Kyung’s fingers are itching towards the bottle of aspirin that had somehow appeared on the coffee table after last night. Jiho falls into the room a little worse for wear, a huge grin on his face, his shirt shredded up the side although he himself isn’t wounded and he looks like he’s just scaled the side of a skyscraper without a safety net to catch him or a bungee rope to hold himself up.
“Nah,” Jiho says with that shit-eating grin, “I had a rope-don’t worry.”
Kyung grinds his teeth, aspirin bottle gripped tightly in one hand, as Jiho whips out the stolen plans to the building.
In the days following those, they set aside to take apart Jaehyung’s schedule and the building plans along with what they’ve already found out from Kyung’s little device mishap about the security system that surrounds Jaehyung’s computer. They do it together because there’s no way to do it separately even though Jiho would most definitely like to and he feels that after the stunt he pulled in revenge (getting the plans in secret the same way Kyung had gotten Jaehyung’s schedule in secret), Kyung is a little less inclined to work together so closely as well.
They sit together with everything spread around them (Kyung had taken the liberty of writing down Jaehyung’s schedule bits on notecards so it’d be easier to move physically for them to visualize in their minds) on the floor of the living room. Jiho had pushed the coffee table up against the wall and moved the sofa back as well, leaving for a wide berth of space. Jiho is in a black wifebeater and jeans and Kyung is in a thin t-shirt and sweats and both of them have wet hair from their evening showers.
(both had spent the first half of the day skulking around the front of the office building to more closely observe Jaehyung’s actual in-and-outs in case he’d lied to Kyung about anything)
Discussions are civil for all of twenty-two minutes before they’re both suddenly in each other’s faces, screaming.
(really, it’s the dumbest argument ever-it’s not even an argument-all Jiho even remembers is that Kyung had suggested waiting for an hour before they break in and Jiho had suggested breaking in right away and waiting within the office and Kyung had shot it down and even though Jiho knew Kyung had a point about possible risks of lying-in-wait in the actual room, Jiho flared up anyway and everything exploded after that and now they’re both sleeping with nothing having been accomplished, backs facing each other across the room)
They waste another half-day avoiding each other in silence.
Kyung hears the clock ticking above their heads and they need to get this job done, even if not for the money, things could get nasty if it’s left unfinished since Kang Daeho’s already paid Yukwon to have him and Jiho commissioned. In all honesty, he doesn’t even know why this is happening-doesn’t know why something burns and itches inside of him whenever Jiho dares to even breathe too loudly, because once upon a time they were childhood friends.
(and when the plane landed in Sydney and Kyung realized, clutching to his mother’s hand in the airport, that goodbye to Jiho wasn’t just goodbye for the day, he cried and cried and cried and even when they reached their new house, he couldn’t stop crying)
He sits on the windowsill, looking down into the small briefcase of all of Taeil’s equipment that he’d borrowed from the older man for this job and wonders if he could convince Jiho to use them-and then resigns himself to admitting that maybe it would be slightly simpler if they just broke into the server with their own two hands. If he hasn’t convinced Jiho by now, there’s no point in fighting it longer. In all honesty, most of Jiho’s ideas are actually rather amazing anyway (maybe it’s high time Kyung lets himself admit that out loud).
Kyung lets his shoulders move up and down in a deep breath and closes the suitcase, making to turn and stand and apo-
“Hi,” Kyung blinks, falling back down into his seat on the windowsill because Jiho is standing over him, wearing the same white-flag expression that Kyung knows is on his own face.
Jiho’s face shifts abruptly-from nervous to knowing to relieved. “Yeah.”
Kyung swallows. “You don’t like it when I let marks fuck me,” he states.
Jiho looks down for a moment before meeting Kyung’s eyes. “You don’t like it when I scale buildings.”
“Actually,” and Kyung manages to crack a smile, “I don’t like it when you scale buildings alone-no one to catch you if the rope breaks-if someone sees you and messes with the knots or something.”
And there’s a short pause-Jiho’s expression is thoughtful for just a moment before he breaks into a smile that mirrors Kyung’s, only just that much more playful (and apologetic). It’s teasing, but there’s a sort of shining intensity to Jiho’s tone when he speaks that makes Kyung reel a little. “I don’t like it when you’re alone when you let marks fuck you,” Jiho says, and he tries to pass it off as light but Kyung doesn’t need an explanation to understand where Jiho is coming from.
“I can’t fight like Yukwon,” Kyung admits, and Jiho’s face looks a little pinched at that. “But I try to be careful.”
“Take someone with you,” Jiho says quietly and it’s always strange to see Woo Jiho so serious (and Kyung thinks of five-years-old and Kyung just fell off of the highest part of the playground and Jiho is crying harder than Kyung is and Jiho is screaming for both of their mothers and while Kyung’s knees and shins and palms hurt, he’s confused as to why Jiho is crying so hard and screaming so loudly because Jiho isn’t the one who fell). “Just-make sure you’re not alone-someone to wait outside for you-in case.”
Kyung grins, and he doesn’t know why Jiho’s concern amuses him but the corners of his mouth turn up on their own. “Okay,” he says, and holds out his pinky, “promise if you promise.”
(and they’re six-years-old and Kyung’s sister has just started middle school and their mothers tell them that one day they might go to different middle schools but the idea is unfathomable and they’re hiding underneath the stairs of Jiho’s house and promise if you promise and they link pinkies because they can’t imagine ever being apart even though two years later it happens and they won’t see each other-they’ll forget each other-for eleven years)
He wonders if Jiho remembers.
Their eyes meet at the same time their pinkies do and it’s still strange, even after these few days, how now Kyung has to tilt his head upward in order to look at Jiho.
“Promise,” Jiho says as he twists his pinky around Kyung’s tightly.
Jiho remembers.
And when they reopen the plans, the blueprints, later on that evening, something sparks in the air and it feels like magic and Kyung is convinced that it’s magic because only magic can keep them up all night at full throttle-he doesn’t feel sleep calling him even for a moment, no weariness, he doesn’t even yawn and Jiho looks just as pumped and energetic and there’s magic because Kyung doesn’t know any other way to explain it.
He’s never planned this fast before-ideas have never popped into his head at such a speed that the con plays surreally through his head like a movie-like all he needs to do is write it onto paper and convert it into reality but otherwise, it’s all already designed for him. Stranger still, everything Jiho puts onto paper and says and demonstrates with his hands flailing through the air is precisely what’s already played through Kyung’s mind. The same movie is running through their heads and Kyung doesn’t know why or how but that’s the only explanation so of course it’s magic.
(and Jiho makes Kyung laugh and grin until his face splits and Kyung knows that of course they’ve laughed together when they were little but it’s different this time and something warm and brilliant whirs through Kyung’s body whenever he meets Jiho’s eyes now and what is it it has to be magic-this has to be magic and Kyung wants to know what the word for it is because he feels like it can’t just be magic because magic is what Kyung feels whenever he’s in the middle of a con but this is that and so much more and Kyung wonders)
Jiho wonders when he started to think of Kyung as beautiful.
And later that evening they end up going out for dinner (far past midnight, but it’s dinnertime for thieves) and it’s Kyung’s area so he leads the way to a ddukbokki stand near a series of cafes. They’re in the business district of Seoul, and the lights around them are bright like stars wrapped around the buildings that tower over them, reaching towards the sky. The ddukbokki is warm like the balmy, spring air and Jiho hasn’t had anything like it in a fair few months with how often he’s been traveling and the number of jobs he’s asked Yukwon to get for him.
“Spicy?” Kyung asks with a shit-eating grin, offering a paper cup of ice water from the stand as Jiho sucks at his tongue and glowers.
(and they’re seven-and-a-half and Jiho accidentally swallows his bubblegum and Kyung laughs and laughs and Jiho’s positively, absolutely stricken but Kyung never stops laughing until finally he ends up swallowing his own bubblegum-and then they’re both tussling on the carpet because Jiho-ah you made me do that I don’t like you anymore)
But Jiho takes the water anyway because he doesn’t fancy his tongue falling off and when Kyung laughs (it makes Jiho feels seven-and-a-half again), Jiho just rolls his eyes, allows himself a little grin around the mouthful of water because suddenly flames dancing in his mouth seem like a pale price to pay if he gets to see Park Kyung laugh like that.
They start walking again as soon as they finish eating because it’s risky to be out and about, even this late at night (morning). Kyung supposes in retrospect that they should’ve walked quickly and in silence back to their hotel, but silence and speed evade them and they end up taking every detour possible. They end up filling in all the gaps-all eleven years-from Kyung attending middle and high school in Australia to Jiho going to an arts school in Japan to Kyung’s first con to Jiho’s first con to realizing that they’ll never be able to work in the legal world like normal citizens because the boredom very literally hurts.
“How’d you meet Yukwon?” Jiho asks as they turn into yet another unnecessary street (they’ve been out an hour and it’s only an eight-minute walk to and from the ddukbokki stand).
Kyung snorts and a wide smile yanks at the corners of his mouth as he remembers Busan and a masquerade benefit ball and smiling eyes that always revealed too little or too much (dangerous and lethal) and a few lessons in thievery that he’ll always consider priceless. “Long story,” he says, and Jiho’s eyebrows go up. “Taught me a lot of good shit though.”
“Like how to have sex with marks?” Jiho asks flatly.
Kyung laughs. “Take the stick out of your ass, Woo Jiho-I can take care of myself.” He glances at the other man. “How ‘bout you? How’d you?”
“Meet him?” And an amused smile begins to play on Jiho’s own full lips. Kyung watches as similar memories of an adventure doubtlessly play behind the lids of Jiho’s eyes in that split second it takes for the taller man to blink before meeting Kyung’s gaze. “Long story.”
“Did you fuck him?”
Jiho stops mid-step, frozen in place with one foot about to land on the ground and stares outrageously at Kyung, who continues walking until he’s a few feet ahead before turning back leisurely, eyebrows raised.
“Park Kyung.”
“That’s me,” Kyung says.
He only barely manages to dodge when Jiho lunges at him with both arms and the full intent to tackle in incredulity. Laughter makes Kyung breathless and he’s run through that entire alleyway before he gives up and lets Jiho catch him, long arms tight around his waist and pinning him to the brick wall of a building. “Oh my God,” Jiho pants, and his grin is indignant and taken aback and thrilled and amused all at once.
Kyung grins back, a slow spreading thing that takes over his face and eyes moment by moment as he watches Jiho roll his eyes with an incredulous smile. “So, did you?”
“Not worth the risk of getting my balls carved into the Statue of Liberty,” Jiho says, shaking his head almost ruefully.
“He’s not that batshit,” Kyung shrugs.
Jiho squints.
Kyung shrugs again.
“Did you?” Jiho blinks.
“Sorry,” Kyung pats Jiho’s arm briskly. “That’s invading my privacy bubble.” He meets Jiho’s eyes significantly.
“Oh my God,” Jiho repeats. “Oh my God.”
Kyung laughs as Jiho backs away in even greater incredulity, mouth open and eyes wide despite the grin that’s beginning to take over the taller man’s face again anyway as Kyung doubles over in loud laughter. “Just a handjob,” Kyung says, when his laughter starts to subside enough for him to be coherent. “I don’t want my balls carved into cheese either, Jiho-ah.”
“Oh my God, you let him touch your dick,” Jiho says, in the crossfire between impressed and flabbergasted.
“And it’s still alive and kicking,” Kyung deadpans. “Fucking shocking, right?”
Jiho whistles.
“C’mon,” Kyung snorts, rolling his eyes and pulling Jiho along to get them walking again. “We’re in for phase three tomorrow and I want to get some actual fucking sleep.”
Jiho yanks his wrist out of Kyung’s hand. “You’re not the one doing the work tomorrow,” the taller man snorts right back, falling into step beside Kyung. Their arms brush, and Kyung blinks up at Jiho.
“I have to be on the comms, listening and making sure you don’t get your ass into shit,” Kyung says. “That’s work, Woo Jiho.”
Jiho flaps his hand. “Easy crap,” he dismisses. “I never get into shit so you have no work.”
Kyung shoves him into a light pole.
“Asshole,” Jiho calls. He rubs at his arm with a broad grin across his face.
“Shitface,” Kyung responds and can’t help but grin back.
(and they’re four and Jiho is trying not to cry because his knee hurts and there’s red oozing out and he wants to get up and push the older boy who’d pushed him into the gravel but it hurts too much to get up-and Kyung stops him from getting up anyway, tells him that the teacher is going to come soon and hugs Jiho so tightly that Jiho can’t breathe and all Jiho can see at four-years-old is Kyung’s deep, round eyes angrier than Jiho can ever remember and worried and he’s hugging Jiho too tightly and Jiho doesn’t need to try to not cry anymore because he no longer feels like crying)
Author: himawarixxsandz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): ZiKyung
Summary: They've always been told
A/N: promised you guys another update during my break so here you aRE i hope everyone who's from the US of A had a happy super fat coma-inducing thanksgivingggg -3-
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3
In the end, Yukwon isn’t honestly to blame even partially for most of this. While Jiho is more than faintly irritated that Yukwon hadn’t intervened a little, as it turns out, Kang Daeho-the one whom wanted the hit out on Son Jaehyung’s accounts in the first place-had secretly asked Yukwon to commission two thieves for the same reason that any other heartbroken, nervous, shaken, newly-betrayed rookie in the cold business world would: little to no actual belief that one thief would get the job done.
Frankly, Jiho is insulted.
Yukwon, however, seems to think that being insulted is both a waste of time and potential money and thusly turns Kyung and Jiho out of the suite, sending them on their way for another extra week of planning-redoing recon. “Seven days,” the naked thief says, blanket swathed around his body as he stands in the doorway, eyes slanted and pretty and menacing. “Kang wants the job done by then and I want my money by then.”
And then the door is slammed in their faces.
They get a room together at the, albeit smaller and far less expensive, hotel beside the one Yukwon and Dongsun are staying at. Jiho likes to travel light on jobs and thought that it wouldn’t take more than one day, and thus literally took the train here with nothing but his own two hands, ready to hack into the server and do the necessary. Kyung, apparently though, actually lives in this part of Seoul.
“Like I’m going to take you back to my apartment,” Kyung snorts, as they arrive at their assigned hotel room-twin beds, two bathrooms, complete with a living room and a partial kitchen.
Jiho collapses face down onto the bed near the window. “Why not?” His voice is muffled against the pillow. “We’ve slept together. I’ve seen you naked.”
Kyung sits down on the edge of the other bed, facing Jiho. “We were seven.”
“Doesn’t look like anything’s changed to me,” Jiho shrugs as he sits up. He makes a clear show of raking his eyes up and down Kyung’s body.
But Kyung remains unfazed, just an odd curve to his lips as he raises his eyebrows and shrugs right back. His eyes meet Jiho’s steadily and neither of them is smiling right now-whereas in any other situation, had they reunited in another place and time, this might’ve been the start of some banter like days past. As it stands now, though, Jiho is feeling rather defensive and he knows Kyung is on the defense as well-barriers up and wariness turned on to full blast.
“I’m going to shower,” Kyung gets to his feet without another glance at Jiho and heads for one of the bathrooms.
Jiho watches the door lock and close before standing up himself and heading out of the hotel. He has absolutely nothing, and he’s going to need to buy enough clothes to last him through the week and possibly into the first half of next week in case he needs to stave off the authorities and head somewhere that isn’t home for a while.
Kyung is asleep by the time Jiho returns, arms full of shopping bags (some of them clothes and some of them disguises) and stomach full of noodles and fried pork. The light brown hair on the pillow is still damp and Jiho smells shampoo and steam coming out from the bathroom.
The next morning, they wake up-they eat-they dress-they move about the room with few words and plenty of glowering. The few words they do exchange are during breakfast-with Jiho shoveling rice and eggs into his mouth on the sofa and Kyung slurping cup noodles in the kitchen-and they’re words about recon shifts. Kyung is to head out first into the office, still under the guise of a deliveryman making his rounds, and watch Jaehyung up until noon when Jiho is to take over by introducing himself as Jaehyung’s temporary assistant (since Jiho had already done the work to hack into the files previously and have Jaehyung’s actual assistant believing he’s on extended vacation).
As soon as Kyung leaves, all done up just like yesterday in full mailman gear and ready to con another cart of packages from the office’s actual mailman, Jiho collapses onto the sofa and flicks on the television. He settles in for a listless few hours until noon. This is the part of recon he hates, and he hates it even more so with a partner-and even more so with a partner he can’t trust and, really, doesn’t know.
You can’t really know a person at eight-years old.
Personally, Kyung thinks that this job is bound to move slower-bound to finish messily-now that he’s being forced to work with Jiho. He doesn’t like working with a partner, no exceptions to that opinion because Kyung works best alone-and if he absolutely must, he’d rather work with someone quick and efficient and someone who knows how to use sources instead of so adamantly fucking insisting to hack into a server the old-fucking-fashioned way.
And the fact that Jiho thinks Kyung is actually going to dedicate four days to pure recon doesn’t shed the brightest of lights on the way Jiho’s intellect has developed in the past eleven years. Kyung rolls his eyes to himself as he pushes the cart briskly up to Jaehyung’s office door and knocks twice with his knuckles.
In the few seconds it takes Jaehyung to walk to the door, Kyung swiftly unbuttons the collar of the uniform, musses his hair, licks his lips until they’re pinked and wet and-from months of working with Yukwon-turns off everything that is distinctly Park Kyung in his eyes and changes it to something else entirely. (and Yukwon’s even told him that it works so well for Kyung because Kyung’s eyes are easily large and round and deceptive in every light imaginable)
“Good morning, sir,” Kyung breathes with feigned business in his tone.
Son Jaehyung, in his late thirties with at least half a foot on Kyung and several tens of pounds, seems to swallow dryly. He’s every bit the rapidly aging CEO and every bit the conniving businessman with harsh lines across his face and narrowed eyes. Really, Jiho is useless to Kyung and Kyung is of every bit of use to Jiho because Jiho could never do what Kyung is about to. It’s just not a skill set Jiho can have, looking like that, and this is going to reduce their recon from fucking four days to two hours-if Kyung works fast enough.
“I have a package for you,” Kyung says brightly, widening his eyes and tilting his head in a way that makes his eyes look that much bigger (his lashes that much longer and-if he could’ve-he would’ve taken Yukwon’s eyeliner).
Jaehyung steps to the side and Kyung cheerily rolls the cart inside. His cheerfulness is amped up a few levels when he hears the slam and lock of the door behind him.
(because while Kyung hadn’t been thorough enough in the recon the first time around, he had found out that Son Jaehyung has been divorced three times all due to incidents that hadn’t exactly been specified, although cheating was implied and yet there’d never been any revelation as to who the cheating had happened with and really the signs were too easy to read-considering the divorces had always been followed by the firing of a young, male employee under Jaehyung’s tutelage
and that’s all Kyung needs to know)
“You’re late,” is what Jiho decides to open with upon Kyung’s return.
It’s five in the evening and Jiho was supposed to have received a call or a text or something from Kyung five hours ago to tell Jiho to come in for his shift. And yet, Jiho had fallen asleep on the couch with no alerts to wake him and when he had woken up it was already half past four. Kyung stands now in the doorway with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder, the outer shirt of the mailman uniform over the other, white undershirt loose and thin against his small frame, hair tousled and face flushed.
“I dropped by my place to pick up some clothes,” is the answer and Kyung tosses the duffel bag onto his bed.
But Jiho catches the hidden grin on Kyung’s face, the slight limp in the other man’s step, and the way Kyung so very obviously knows something-and it’s a look that Jiho sees all the time on Yukwon whenever they work together. Jiho has a feeling that he’s right but he wishes he was wrong but he knows that he usually isn’t so he takes the risk that really isn’t one and asks, “Who fucked you?”
He leaves it open-ended because he wants to hope.
“Jaehyung,” Kyung responds easily and the hope breaks into little pieces of irritation.
Jiho blocks Kyung’s path, preventing the other man from making it to the bathroom for an easy escape. Kyung still doesn’t look fazed, tipping his head up indifferently to meet Jiho’s eyes head on. And from this angle, Jiho can see the discolored splotches on Kyung’s neck and collarbone and it bothers Jiho a little even though he knows that this is nothing new-it’s just another way of doing a job and Yukwon does it all the time.
“He arrives at the office every day at seven in the morning,” Kyung says, as if reciting his times tables, “he eats breakfast in his own personal office until seven-twenty and then he goes for his morning conferences up until nine. His schedule was pinned to the wall across his desk and he has regular conferences in the morning for the rest of this week and Tuesday of next. He takes a coffee break after the morning conferences up until nine-thirty-five and then he’s in his personal office until ten-thirty. H-”
“How-”
Kyung shrugs. “I asked. He told me. And there were clues all over the office. He’s not the cleanest guy in the world. Empty coffee cans, plates of food, little notes from his secretary reminding him to turn things in, his phone ringing while I was blowing him-”
“Okay,” Jiho rubs at his eyes and takes a step back away from Kyung because being so close to Park Kyung is beginning to make Jiho’s head throb. He’s not just irritated at this point-he’s thoroughly annoyed, incredibly exasperated, frustrated that he wasn’t at least briefed about a change of plans, a little bit angry that Kyung thought it was okay to just up and improvise, and mildly furious that Kyung probably didn’t let him in due to the fact that Kyung has made it painfully obvious how stupid he thinks Jiho is.
Kyung raises his eyebrows. “Okay,” he echoes. “So I’ll tell you the rest after I shower. Move.”
And Jiho steps to the side without another argument because he needs to call the front desk and ask for a hotel staff to bring up some aspirin.
The next day is dedicated to plans of the building.
Kyung, having been in the building at least three times, does believe that he’s the obvious choice to draw them out or acquire a copy from Jaehyung’s office himself. Unfortunately, Jiho is so thickly dense that he doesn’t share that obvious belief and Kyung hardly has time to finish breakfast before he realizes that Jiho most likely hadn’t gone down to the convenience store to get some soda.
It’s a full three hours before Jiho actually returns-it’s lunchtime by the time Jiho returns and Kyung’s fingers are itching towards the bottle of aspirin that had somehow appeared on the coffee table after last night. Jiho falls into the room a little worse for wear, a huge grin on his face, his shirt shredded up the side although he himself isn’t wounded and he looks like he’s just scaled the side of a skyscraper without a safety net to catch him or a bungee rope to hold himself up.
“Nah,” Jiho says with that shit-eating grin, “I had a rope-don’t worry.”
Kyung grinds his teeth, aspirin bottle gripped tightly in one hand, as Jiho whips out the stolen plans to the building.
In the days following those, they set aside to take apart Jaehyung’s schedule and the building plans along with what they’ve already found out from Kyung’s little device mishap about the security system that surrounds Jaehyung’s computer. They do it together because there’s no way to do it separately even though Jiho would most definitely like to and he feels that after the stunt he pulled in revenge (getting the plans in secret the same way Kyung had gotten Jaehyung’s schedule in secret), Kyung is a little less inclined to work together so closely as well.
They sit together with everything spread around them (Kyung had taken the liberty of writing down Jaehyung’s schedule bits on notecards so it’d be easier to move physically for them to visualize in their minds) on the floor of the living room. Jiho had pushed the coffee table up against the wall and moved the sofa back as well, leaving for a wide berth of space. Jiho is in a black wifebeater and jeans and Kyung is in a thin t-shirt and sweats and both of them have wet hair from their evening showers.
(both had spent the first half of the day skulking around the front of the office building to more closely observe Jaehyung’s actual in-and-outs in case he’d lied to Kyung about anything)
Discussions are civil for all of twenty-two minutes before they’re both suddenly in each other’s faces, screaming.
(really, it’s the dumbest argument ever-it’s not even an argument-all Jiho even remembers is that Kyung had suggested waiting for an hour before they break in and Jiho had suggested breaking in right away and waiting within the office and Kyung had shot it down and even though Jiho knew Kyung had a point about possible risks of lying-in-wait in the actual room, Jiho flared up anyway and everything exploded after that and now they’re both sleeping with nothing having been accomplished, backs facing each other across the room)
They waste another half-day avoiding each other in silence.
Kyung hears the clock ticking above their heads and they need to get this job done, even if not for the money, things could get nasty if it’s left unfinished since Kang Daeho’s already paid Yukwon to have him and Jiho commissioned. In all honesty, he doesn’t even know why this is happening-doesn’t know why something burns and itches inside of him whenever Jiho dares to even breathe too loudly, because once upon a time they were childhood friends.
(and when the plane landed in Sydney and Kyung realized, clutching to his mother’s hand in the airport, that goodbye to Jiho wasn’t just goodbye for the day, he cried and cried and cried and even when they reached their new house, he couldn’t stop crying)
He sits on the windowsill, looking down into the small briefcase of all of Taeil’s equipment that he’d borrowed from the older man for this job and wonders if he could convince Jiho to use them-and then resigns himself to admitting that maybe it would be slightly simpler if they just broke into the server with their own two hands. If he hasn’t convinced Jiho by now, there’s no point in fighting it longer. In all honesty, most of Jiho’s ideas are actually rather amazing anyway (maybe it’s high time Kyung lets himself admit that out loud).
Kyung lets his shoulders move up and down in a deep breath and closes the suitcase, making to turn and stand and apo-
“Hi,” Kyung blinks, falling back down into his seat on the windowsill because Jiho is standing over him, wearing the same white-flag expression that Kyung knows is on his own face.
Jiho’s face shifts abruptly-from nervous to knowing to relieved. “Yeah.”
Kyung swallows. “You don’t like it when I let marks fuck me,” he states.
Jiho looks down for a moment before meeting Kyung’s eyes. “You don’t like it when I scale buildings.”
“Actually,” and Kyung manages to crack a smile, “I don’t like it when you scale buildings alone-no one to catch you if the rope breaks-if someone sees you and messes with the knots or something.”
And there’s a short pause-Jiho’s expression is thoughtful for just a moment before he breaks into a smile that mirrors Kyung’s, only just that much more playful (and apologetic). It’s teasing, but there’s a sort of shining intensity to Jiho’s tone when he speaks that makes Kyung reel a little. “I don’t like it when you’re alone when you let marks fuck you,” Jiho says, and he tries to pass it off as light but Kyung doesn’t need an explanation to understand where Jiho is coming from.
“I can’t fight like Yukwon,” Kyung admits, and Jiho’s face looks a little pinched at that. “But I try to be careful.”
“Take someone with you,” Jiho says quietly and it’s always strange to see Woo Jiho so serious (and Kyung thinks of five-years-old and Kyung just fell off of the highest part of the playground and Jiho is crying harder than Kyung is and Jiho is screaming for both of their mothers and while Kyung’s knees and shins and palms hurt, he’s confused as to why Jiho is crying so hard and screaming so loudly because Jiho isn’t the one who fell). “Just-make sure you’re not alone-someone to wait outside for you-in case.”
Kyung grins, and he doesn’t know why Jiho’s concern amuses him but the corners of his mouth turn up on their own. “Okay,” he says, and holds out his pinky, “promise if you promise.”
(and they’re six-years-old and Kyung’s sister has just started middle school and their mothers tell them that one day they might go to different middle schools but the idea is unfathomable and they’re hiding underneath the stairs of Jiho’s house and promise if you promise and they link pinkies because they can’t imagine ever being apart even though two years later it happens and they won’t see each other-they’ll forget each other-for eleven years)
He wonders if Jiho remembers.
Their eyes meet at the same time their pinkies do and it’s still strange, even after these few days, how now Kyung has to tilt his head upward in order to look at Jiho.
“Promise,” Jiho says as he twists his pinky around Kyung’s tightly.
Jiho remembers.
And when they reopen the plans, the blueprints, later on that evening, something sparks in the air and it feels like magic and Kyung is convinced that it’s magic because only magic can keep them up all night at full throttle-he doesn’t feel sleep calling him even for a moment, no weariness, he doesn’t even yawn and Jiho looks just as pumped and energetic and there’s magic because Kyung doesn’t know any other way to explain it.
He’s never planned this fast before-ideas have never popped into his head at such a speed that the con plays surreally through his head like a movie-like all he needs to do is write it onto paper and convert it into reality but otherwise, it’s all already designed for him. Stranger still, everything Jiho puts onto paper and says and demonstrates with his hands flailing through the air is precisely what’s already played through Kyung’s mind. The same movie is running through their heads and Kyung doesn’t know why or how but that’s the only explanation so of course it’s magic.
(and Jiho makes Kyung laugh and grin until his face splits and Kyung knows that of course they’ve laughed together when they were little but it’s different this time and something warm and brilliant whirs through Kyung’s body whenever he meets Jiho’s eyes now and what is it it has to be magic-this has to be magic and Kyung wants to know what the word for it is because he feels like it can’t just be magic because magic is what Kyung feels whenever he’s in the middle of a con but this is that and so much more and Kyung wonders)
Jiho wonders when he started to think of Kyung as beautiful.
And later that evening they end up going out for dinner (far past midnight, but it’s dinnertime for thieves) and it’s Kyung’s area so he leads the way to a ddukbokki stand near a series of cafes. They’re in the business district of Seoul, and the lights around them are bright like stars wrapped around the buildings that tower over them, reaching towards the sky. The ddukbokki is warm like the balmy, spring air and Jiho hasn’t had anything like it in a fair few months with how often he’s been traveling and the number of jobs he’s asked Yukwon to get for him.
“Spicy?” Kyung asks with a shit-eating grin, offering a paper cup of ice water from the stand as Jiho sucks at his tongue and glowers.
(and they’re seven-and-a-half and Jiho accidentally swallows his bubblegum and Kyung laughs and laughs and Jiho’s positively, absolutely stricken but Kyung never stops laughing until finally he ends up swallowing his own bubblegum-and then they’re both tussling on the carpet because Jiho-ah you made me do that I don’t like you anymore)
But Jiho takes the water anyway because he doesn’t fancy his tongue falling off and when Kyung laughs (it makes Jiho feels seven-and-a-half again), Jiho just rolls his eyes, allows himself a little grin around the mouthful of water because suddenly flames dancing in his mouth seem like a pale price to pay if he gets to see Park Kyung laugh like that.
They start walking again as soon as they finish eating because it’s risky to be out and about, even this late at night (morning). Kyung supposes in retrospect that they should’ve walked quickly and in silence back to their hotel, but silence and speed evade them and they end up taking every detour possible. They end up filling in all the gaps-all eleven years-from Kyung attending middle and high school in Australia to Jiho going to an arts school in Japan to Kyung’s first con to Jiho’s first con to realizing that they’ll never be able to work in the legal world like normal citizens because the boredom very literally hurts.
“How’d you meet Yukwon?” Jiho asks as they turn into yet another unnecessary street (they’ve been out an hour and it’s only an eight-minute walk to and from the ddukbokki stand).
Kyung snorts and a wide smile yanks at the corners of his mouth as he remembers Busan and a masquerade benefit ball and smiling eyes that always revealed too little or too much (dangerous and lethal) and a few lessons in thievery that he’ll always consider priceless. “Long story,” he says, and Jiho’s eyebrows go up. “Taught me a lot of good shit though.”
“Like how to have sex with marks?” Jiho asks flatly.
Kyung laughs. “Take the stick out of your ass, Woo Jiho-I can take care of myself.” He glances at the other man. “How ‘bout you? How’d you?”
“Meet him?” And an amused smile begins to play on Jiho’s own full lips. Kyung watches as similar memories of an adventure doubtlessly play behind the lids of Jiho’s eyes in that split second it takes for the taller man to blink before meeting Kyung’s gaze. “Long story.”
“Did you fuck him?”
Jiho stops mid-step, frozen in place with one foot about to land on the ground and stares outrageously at Kyung, who continues walking until he’s a few feet ahead before turning back leisurely, eyebrows raised.
“Park Kyung.”
“That’s me,” Kyung says.
He only barely manages to dodge when Jiho lunges at him with both arms and the full intent to tackle in incredulity. Laughter makes Kyung breathless and he’s run through that entire alleyway before he gives up and lets Jiho catch him, long arms tight around his waist and pinning him to the brick wall of a building. “Oh my God,” Jiho pants, and his grin is indignant and taken aback and thrilled and amused all at once.
Kyung grins back, a slow spreading thing that takes over his face and eyes moment by moment as he watches Jiho roll his eyes with an incredulous smile. “So, did you?”
“Not worth the risk of getting my balls carved into the Statue of Liberty,” Jiho says, shaking his head almost ruefully.
“He’s not that batshit,” Kyung shrugs.
Jiho squints.
Kyung shrugs again.
“Did you?” Jiho blinks.
“Sorry,” Kyung pats Jiho’s arm briskly. “That’s invading my privacy bubble.” He meets Jiho’s eyes significantly.
“Oh my God,” Jiho repeats. “Oh my God.”
Kyung laughs as Jiho backs away in even greater incredulity, mouth open and eyes wide despite the grin that’s beginning to take over the taller man’s face again anyway as Kyung doubles over in loud laughter. “Just a handjob,” Kyung says, when his laughter starts to subside enough for him to be coherent. “I don’t want my balls carved into cheese either, Jiho-ah.”
“Oh my God, you let him touch your dick,” Jiho says, in the crossfire between impressed and flabbergasted.
“And it’s still alive and kicking,” Kyung deadpans. “Fucking shocking, right?”
Jiho whistles.
“C’mon,” Kyung snorts, rolling his eyes and pulling Jiho along to get them walking again. “We’re in for phase three tomorrow and I want to get some actual fucking sleep.”
Jiho yanks his wrist out of Kyung’s hand. “You’re not the one doing the work tomorrow,” the taller man snorts right back, falling into step beside Kyung. Their arms brush, and Kyung blinks up at Jiho.
“I have to be on the comms, listening and making sure you don’t get your ass into shit,” Kyung says. “That’s work, Woo Jiho.”
Jiho flaps his hand. “Easy crap,” he dismisses. “I never get into shit so you have no work.”
Kyung shoves him into a light pole.
“Asshole,” Jiho calls. He rubs at his arm with a broad grin across his face.
“Shitface,” Kyung responds and can’t help but grin back.
(and they’re four and Jiho is trying not to cry because his knee hurts and there’s red oozing out and he wants to get up and push the older boy who’d pushed him into the gravel but it hurts too much to get up-and Kyung stops him from getting up anyway, tells him that the teacher is going to come soon and hugs Jiho so tightly that Jiho can’t breathe and all Jiho can see at four-years-old is Kyung’s deep, round eyes angrier than Jiho can ever remember and worried and he’s hugging Jiho too tightly and Jiho doesn’t need to try to not cry anymore because he no longer feels like crying)