Thirteen: Infiltration II (Ocean's Eleven AU)
Title: Infiltration II (4/? of Thirteen Series)
Author: himawarixxsandz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): BangHim, ZiKyung, U-Bomb, TaePyo, DaeJae, JongLo
Summary: Thirteen is their lucky number
A/N: TURNED IN ALL MY COLLEGE APPS W E L P except now i have superdance to do bc im a masochist so as soon as i got one thing out of my life i have to have another bc i love time-consuming projects YAY FOR ME but thank jfc christmas is coming soon altho then that means midterms ijfselat ANYWAY enjoy
The Crew // The Crew II // Infiltration // Infiltration II // Infiltration III
By the time seven o’clock hits on the second night of phase one, Taeil, Youngjae, and Daehyun have all luckily been checked into the suite beside the main base of operations. Youngjae and Daehyun help Taeil move his equipment into the living room of the suite that the three would be sleeping in, since the suite with Yukwon and Minhyuk would be the all-purpose one-the one used when they needed Dongsun to see Yukwon or Minhyuk walking in and out of a hotel room. Taeil gets the surveillance feeds going, and instantly they have footage of Dongsun’s central office and bedroom-courtesy of Jongup’s adventure through the air vents on the first day.
Fifteen minutes before seven, Dongsun has freshly showered, suited up, and is heading down to the floor-most likely to check up on the action with his staff before heading to the hotel’s restaurant. Ten minutes before seven, Minhyuk and Yukwon have showered, suited up, wired up with Taeil’s best (and that’s difficult for Yukwon because they have to be careful everything’s taped in places that won’t show due to the nature of Yukwon’s special suit), and are sent out to head down for dinner.
The rest of them crowd around the monitors, huddled around Taeil where he sits at the center of tens of screens and keyboards, microphones and wires. Jongup’s face, illuminated by the glare of the monitor, is filled with all kinds of wonder and curiosity-impressed and excited-and it makes Jiho grin because he remembers then that Jongup has never worked a big con before.
“Remember,” Jiho says into Yukwon and Minhyuk’s ears, leader by proxy whenever Yongguk isn’t present. He leans close to the microphone, sidling up beside Taeil. “Only work him up enough to get what we need.”
There’s only audio feed for the elevators.
“Shut up, Woo Jiho,” comes Yukwon’s voice-sugary sweet and deathly dark.
Jiho grins.
It’s like sitting on one side of a seesaw with the opposing side hanging off a cliff. There’s a rock as heavy as you are on the other end and one errant shift could send you catapulting up through the sky and over the edge. Yongguk is frozen in place on that seesaw, seated and trapped with no way of getting out and his legs are starting to ache. Two days into recon and everything is sailing as smoothly as it ever could, and at the same time he feels like there’s a rope around his neck-tightening moment by moment. It’s even harder, he thinks, to breathe around a chokehold without anyone knowing you can hardly keep yourself standing as seconds pass.
He pauses in the middle of sliding another few wires that Taeil had left behind into the suitcase he’s to bring to the Lotus tomorrow for the third part of infiltration. Someone is at the door-Yongguk hears their nervous, hesitant breathing, attempting to be concealed and contained (and it’s not a bad job of hiding it, but Yongguk’s hearing is too sharp). The breathing pattern isn’t as familiar as it should be, which means it leaves only one person.
“Junhong-ah?” Yongguk says, without turning from where he kneels over the open luggage. “Finished packing?”
“Mostly.” The youngest thief walks around to the other side of Yongguk’s suitcase with folded arms and a curious expression.
Yongguk looks up at him. “What?”
“What’s wrong with you and Himchan-shii?”
Oh.
The smile that slides onto Yongguk’s face is easy, and he wears it with a warm show of teeth and gums and crinkling eyes. “What’s wrong with us?” he deflects.
Junhong’s eyebrows disappear into his beanie. “You’re partners,” he states slowly.
“We are.”
“He hates you.”
And Bang Yongguk, master of thieves, is nothing but ashamed because of the split moment, initial but ever-present, that his smile falters. The corners of his mouth tighten for just that tiny window of time, and his heart contracts until it feels more like a shriveled mound of bleeding flesh than an actual organ. His chest empties out like a cavity. “What makes you say that?” His tone is light, careless-and he continues to grin as if it’s all a joke-a misunderstanding-hilarious.
The younger man’s eyes narrow for a moment in even greater curiosity before he shrugs, looking away. “I wonder what you did to make him hate you so much,” he says in a quiet tone. He slowly walks back around the suitcase, around Yongguk, and leaves the room with soft footsteps.
As soon as Junhong is cleanly out of the room, Yongguk leans against the foot of the bed and lets himself shatter. He draws his knees up, hands hiding his face and for a moment he wants to throttle Hyosung for ever recommending the kid to him. It’s doubtless that Junhong is a genius because Yongguk and Himchan are putting up flawless fronts that the others haven’t even completely broken through yet. The only difference is that Junhong doesn’t know any background details and thinks that all Yongguk and Himchan ever were to each other was partners.
And then there’s the fact that Junhong clearly doesn’t trust anyone on this team yet. Grimly, Yongguk thinks about how nothing Hyosung would have said to the kid could’ve ever made a difference in that because of the very nature of a thief. He lets himself smile a bit remembering how Jiho and Kyung, best friends since birth-given a short break of eleven years-hadn’t even trusted other completely until well after their first con together. There’s only ever the thinly veiled, delicately constructed appearance of trust.
It’s easy to do a con with someone you don’t trust-utterly possible, and not as dangerous as it sounds. For skilled thieves, it’s more practical-more advantageous-to do a con with business-like detachment and zero grounds for emotional baggage. The only sort of trust that needs to be present is the same kind of trust one businessman has to have that his partner doesn’t run away with the money.
That trust, Junhong definitely has.
The other type of trust?
(trust that if there were police on the way and the only options were to bolt for safety, mark and money be damned, that they other party would be there to distract them away from you-trust that, if the mark got violent, had weapons, if there was harm on the horizon, the other party would be there to rough it out with you, to protect you and not escape-trust that, regardless of how high the stakes, the ultimate priority is getting you, your partner, and your teammates out alive and safe-that they’ll never go to prison, that they’ll never be hurt)
Junhong has none of that.
Not yet.
Kyung flails in reflex when Daehyun’s head lands with a thud on Kyung’s shoulder. Both he and Jiho, and Kyung himself, nodded off in the past thirty minutes while Minhyuk, Yukwon, and Dongsun were doing away with pleasantries and ordering food. It’s an artistic difference, Kyung thinks, that probably reasons away why Youngjae and Taeil can somehow resist the pulls of sleep while watching the feeds while Kyung, Jiho, and Daehyun-field men-are half-bored to their actual graves when they aren’t on the field.
Jongup is possibly the only greaseman Kyung has ever met that actually looks as engrossed as Taeil does doing surveillance.
It doesn’t help that neither Youngjae nor Taeil bothered to flick on any lights once the sun went down outside the windows, and Kyung’s mind flashes through all of the times he’s found Taeil sitting in icy stillness in pitch black darkness with only the glow of the monitors illuminating his face. Kyung cricks his neck to the left and then the right, gently pushes Daehyun and Jiho off of himself, and crosses the room to turn on the lights.
“How’re they doing, hyung?” he asks, coming back to place a hand on the back of Taeil’s chair.
Taeil’s teeth are chewing at his lower lip and he answers without looking away. “Brilliant as always-but-Dongsun isn’t spilling.” He fiddles with a switch and the picture zooms in on the three at the table. “At least-nothing we can use.”
“The kid that Yongguk-hyung brought is going to tail him starting tomorrow though, right?” Kyung says. “It’s fine, then-this is just-”
“Still,” Taeil cuts him off. “It’d be nice to have some precautionary measures. Himchan wants that.”
Kyung sucks his cheeks in, biting them thoughtfully as he stares down at Minhyuk and Yukwon on the screen. There’s only so much smolder Yukwon can send Dongsun while in Minhyuk’s supposed presence, and there’s only so much that can happen with a table in between them. Dongsun has all his firewalls up with Minhyuk there, and the dinner is winding down to a close a little bit faster than planned. He meets eyes with Taeil.
“Pull him into overdrive,” Kyung sighs.
Taeil blinks. “Are you-”
Kyung grabs the microphone, leaning down into it. “Yukwon-ah,” he says resignedly, “don’t make us regret letting you do this.”
For the briefest of moments, Yukwon’s eyes flicker right up at the security camera-a wordless enquiry.
“Yeah,” and Kyung hopes to any god that’s listening that this won’t end up with Dongsun in a neck brace tomorrow morning, “go ahead.”
Taeil turns the audio feed up and hands Kyung an extra set of headphones. Youngjae seems to have drifted off with Jongup into the Land of Nod, settling down beside Jiho and Daehyun on the sofas. Kyung takes a seat beside Taeil and they watch as Yukwon stands up with a beatific smile, excusing himself politely to the restroom. A few short moments and a few short words pass between Minhyuk and Dongsun before Dongsun himself also stands and heads to the restroom.
Kyung takes a bracing breath, a grin fighting on his lips as Taeil switches on the audio feed to the bathrooms (and they have no visual feed because cameras in public bathrooms are just a little bothersome to manage).
Despite what the rest of the crew thinks, Yukwon can control himself. His skills set relies solely on control so he honestly doesn’t understand why there’s always and forever a bit of fear in the others’ eyes whenever they find that the only choice is to let him do some dirty work. And it’s been a fair while since he’s had any real challenge-it’s been a long while since there’s been anything personal in a mark-so there’s nothing short of complete, and utter elation that courses through him while he pretends to finish washing his hands in the restaurant’s bathroom.
Dongsun comes through the doors right on schedule.
He also steps behind Yukwon, places his hands on either side of the younger man, traps him effectively against the sink-right on schedule.
Yukwon lifts his eyes to the mirror.
“So,” and Dongsun’s nose is skimming the side of Yukwon’s throat.
Game start.
Yukwon shivers-trembles-deliciously at Dongsun’s touch, letting fear and anticipation and complete hunger rise through him, projecting it towards Dongsun at full force. It’s like riding a bicycle, he thinks-no matter how long it’s been, you can never forget how to do it-muscle memory. He grins to himself inside-laughs loud and excitedly because-oh-this is fun. “Yukwon-ah,” Taeil’s voice in his ear and it’s worried, “I don’t hear anything-you know we can’t see you, right? It’s just audio for the bathrooms-and you know that Minhyuk can only give fifteen minutes-hurry up and get something out of him.”
Okay, so maybe another time-right now, Yukwon’s working. (he sighs)
“Stop,” Yukwon spins around in Dongsun’s hold, pushing at the older man weakly-ineffectively-and he whines breathlessly, “Stop-what if Minhyuk-hyung-”
Dongsun laughs. “What’ll he do?” he snorts. “What can he do? Arms dealer,” his eyes roll irritably. “He’s up and coming in the industry and if I haven’t had his name come across my secretary’s table, he’s still worthless amateur shit, Yukwon-ah.” His hands come up to grip Yukwon’s arms, painful and tight (but Yukwon is working so he grits his teeth and restrains the urge to flip Dongsun onto his back and shatter his skull). “He can’t do anything for you, and you should’ve never run away with him, you worthless little slut.”
Oh-
Maybe-Yukwon swallows-oh-muscle memory-so why is he freezing up? (but no, he can’t freeze up and it’s only that perhaps-maybe-possibly-Yukwon hasn’t seen Dongsun in years upon years and he suddenly feels a little seventeen again and a little vulnerable but it doesn’t mean anything, it just means he hasn’t been in the groove of handling someone as horrid as Dongsun in a while-someone who’s always fed and preyed on Yukwon’s every insecurity and fear and that’s all right, he’ll be used to blocking Dongsun out in a few days time)
“Yukwon-ah?” and now it’s Kyung’s voice-shaken and furious and (fuck, audio feed).
(so Yukwon brings up Minhyuk’s face-Lee Minhyuk and everything he is-in his mind’s eye, breathes in once and out once and thinks and feels and pictures Minhyuk)
“I was scared,” Yukwon whispers pleadingly at Dongsun, and feels control slipping back like comforting warmth into his fingertips. He’s in control-he is in perfect control-and Dongsun can’t take that away. Yukwon pulls in mantra exercises that he hasn’t done in years through his mind, regaining control as every second passes. (He’s stronger-faster-deadlier-a better liar-a better actor-he’s not in danger-he’ll never be in danger again-he’s working-he’s not a slut-he’s not worthless-he’s above Dongsun-he has to do this)
“Atta boy,” Taeil’s voice is firm and warm in Yukwon’s ear, and Yukwon holds back a smile because how well, really, must they all know him to be able to discern through just single words and silences whether Yukwon is in his comfort zone or out of it.
Dongsun merely looks bored. “Scared of what? Scared of some agent with no money to his name-scared enough to let him convince you to leave me? Or did he convince you with stealing away your brother’s property? Don’t think-”
“You wouldn’t even let me see him!” Yukwon screams hysterically and falls to the bathroom floor in a heap. He quickly does his usual routine of pinching the inside of his wrist coupled with thinking of Yushin bleeding to death in an abandoned warehouse somewhere, and it’s not long before his eyes are brimming wet as he looks up at an irritated Dongsun (because whenever Yukwon used to get hurt by Dongsun’s wayward guards assigned to him, Dongsun had never looked anything but annoyed). “I had to-”
Dongsun kneels down beside Yukwon. “Shut up,” he hisses vehemently. He grabs Yukwon’s face with both hands, painful pressure on Yukwon’s jaw and cheekbones and he holds back the glare he wants to shoot at the older man-softens it instead to something frightened and weak. “You’re the one who’s been making eyes at me through dinner-you’re the one who wants to come crawling back to me because you know I’m making it bigger than him in the states-and you’re the one who’s going to have to fucking beg on your hands and knees before I’ll even think of taking you back.”
He lets go of Yukwon scathingly and stands up, fisting Yukwon’s hair harshly. Yukwon tips his head up just enough to meet Dongsun’s eyes. The younger man blinks, pushing a light stream of tears from either eye down his cheeks. “He’s going to kill me if he finds out,” he says throatily-hoarsely. “You might have more manpower, but he-”
“Kwon-ah,” Dongsun whispers, leaning in, mockingly gentle as his lips graze over Yukwon’s. “You don’t build an empire by being nice. There’re backroom deals and how easy do you think it’d be for Lee Minhyuk to disappear in a backroom-and for you to disappear with me? We can make this work-fight night, if you want-if you know what that is.”
Oh-okay.
“We got it, Yukwon-ah,” Kyung’s voice is ecstatic. “Finish it off-make it fast, though, Minhyuk-hyung’s about to bust the door open.”
Yukwon shakes his head at Dongsun uselessly, tilting his head in and pushing out neediness and lust and helplessness towards the older man. He projects and projects and projects until Dongsun’s eyes are coated with pity and disdain and amused disgust and lust (and oh-how that’s always the most important part). “Hyung,” he whimpers and digs his fingertips into Dongsun’s shirt, scratching and he drags himself closer until he can grind up on Dongsun’s thigh pathetically.
If he wants to end this quickly and get out in record time, he has to get hard-Yukwon rolls his eyes internally when he catches sight of Dongsun’s pants already tented and straining. Minhyuk-Minhyuk-Minhyuk-and he forces Minhyuk’s face once again to spring up on the backs of his eyelids, conjures the warmth and familiarity of Minhyuk’s fingers and hands (tongue and lips), thinks in great detail about the last time Minhyuk was buried in Yukwon all the way to the hilt, intense and hot and fierce (and Yukwon remembers screams muffled against Minhyuk’s shoulder).
He’s hard.
“Only because I’m so nice,” Dongsun murmurs into Yukwon’s ear as the older man brings both of their cocks out, holding them against each other and thrusting up against Yukwon to increase the maddening friction. Yukwon closes his eyes now and pretends that that’s Minhyuk’s hand and Minhyuk’s cock and in no time at all he holds back a shout at the same time Dongsun comes.
Taeil looks exhausted when he flicks off the audio feed and switches it back to where Minhyuk, underneath the expressionless exterior, is clearly about to tear his own head off. “Hyung,” Kyung leans into the microphone, and feels a little shaken himself, as he watches Minhyuk’s eyes flicker towards the camera, “they’re done. Dongsun should be coming out in a few seconds and he’s going to leave the restaurant right after he pays. We’ll tell you once he’s completely out and then you can go get Yukwonie.”
Minhyuk gives a discreet nod, and right on time, Dongsun saunters out from the direction of the restrooms. Even through the feed, Kyung can make out the pink flush on Dongsun’s cheeks and he can also make out Minhyuk visibly tensing-it’s something that’s necessary but Kyung knows that Minhyuk, and Jiho for that matter, will never particularly like about Kyung and Yukwon’s line of expertise.
“Okay,” Kyung says, once Dongsun has smirked, paid the bill, and walked right past the table to head out of the restaurant, “mark off site-target cleared-at ease.”
Minhyuk disappears off the visual faster than Taeil has time to switch it off.
It’s only a handjob and Yukwon just had to feign trauma and weariness as Dongsun walked out of the restroom with a satisfied smirk, wiping his hands off on a paper towel, but-nevertheless-Yukwon can’t help but smile in breathless relief when Minhyuk walks through the door and gathers the younger man up in his arms.
“Gimme a high-five, hyung,” Yukwon teases, and holds his hand up limply as best he can while Minhyuk seemingly tries to wrap himself around Yukwon in what might possibly be the World’s Most Suffocating Embrace.
“You’re such a goddamn dick,” Minhyuk says, voice muffled against Yukwon’s neck.
Yukwon laughs and hugs Minhyuk back.
Jiho switches off the audio feed and looks around at the suite’s dining table. Minhyuk and Yukwon have returned but they headed straight for their own room since Yukwon obviously already knows all that happened and Minhyuk’s decided to be briefed tomorrow along with Yongguk, Junhong and Jaehyo who’ll be arriving at the hotel sometime around noon in their respective ways. Taeil is making copies of the audio, and Youngjae, Daehyun, and Jongup are taking turns with the sole copy they have now that Kyung is holding.
“Dongsun’s dirty work got dirtier,” Jiho sums up briskly. “Nothing surprising but we have it on recording now-and it’s something to watch out for. Yongguk-hyung’ll probably want to be the one who goes into this on fight night.”
“Or Himchan-hyung,” Daehyun says, tapping his hands on the table. “They’ll probably fight to see who gets to go in on it.” He exchanges glances with Youngjae and Kyung rubs over his own eyes with another sigh.
Jongup looks confused.
Jiho glances down at the inoffensive little machine, headphones stringing out from it. “It’s pretty dangerous if Himchan-hyung insists,” he says. “He could be compromised-I mean-” He looks to Kyung for help.
“Yukwonie was out of it,” Kyung says to Daehyun. “You didn’t hear but-he-for only a second, yeah, but he was out of it. If Dongsun can get to him, and he didn’t even care about Dongsun, you really want to know what’ll happen if Himchan-hyung gets too close? I’m going to back Yongguk-hyung if he insists. Himchan-hyung’s going to lose us the job.”
“Except Yongguk-hyung’s been in prison for the last four years,” Youngjae stresses obviously, slamming his hand lightly down on the table. “He’s still brilliant but he’s not exactly the best man to-”
Jiho snorts. “And where’s Himchan-hyung been the last four years? Off the map that even none of us can track him-never answering his calls and he could’ve been dead for all we knew-guess he just didn’t care enough to let any of us know since he was too busy with Christ-knows-what doing-”
The screech of a chair being toppled to the floor and Jongup is striding to the door of the suite, yanking it open and slamming it shut in his wake.
Silence follows but it doesn’t stretch for very long.
“Fantastic teamwork, guys,” Kyung says.
Daehyun covers his eyes and Youngjae lowers his own gaze to the table.
Jiho buries his face in his hands.
He doesn’t go very far.
Just up to one of the floors that has an open common area for the higher, more valued guests. It’s only a few floors above the one that they’re all staying on, and there’s an open ceiling-clear to display Vegas’s night sky-and lots of little, fake plants interspersed between the modern, oriental-styled furniture of the space. Jongup walks out of the elevator and moves to stand as close as he can to the railing that separates the room from the floor-to-ceiling windows.
There’re no stars in Vegas-all the stars are artificial and powered with electricity, lining skyscrapers and billboards.
Jongup doesn’t like it.
And he doesn’t like this job.
He likes working-he’ll always love working-and he likes the people.
It just feels like, regardless of how they pat his back and welcome him, he isn’t really a part of them. He knows that Daehyun and Youngjae love him-but he feels like when it comes down to it, they love him and trust him as Moon Jongup-as the kid that trails along behind Himchan. There’s nothing yet that conveys if they trust him on his own-if they value him as a greaseman, as one of the crew-if they even consider him one of the crew.
Most of all, he hates how everyone seems to hold something against Himchan for those months Himchan apparently dropped off the face of their world-those months when Himchan appeared and spent in Jongup’s world. He hates how they all begrudge Himchan that period of time-as though there’s something inherently wrong with just wanting to be a little normal, to keep your head down peacefully and not flaunt your illegal peacock feathers straight and proud at all times.
Or maybe it’s just that Jongup’s skills set is too different-that it takes different people to be different things and Jongup knows that he could never be confident enough to wear so many different skins-the way Daehyun and Jiho and Kyung and Minhyuk and Yukwon do. He thinks that he’s irritated with those five the most-he knows, of course he does, that they can’t do anything without them, that they’re all central to the plan, and that Himchan-while he’s a details man-sometimes takes on the deceitful role of another person as well.
The lights of the city burn Jongup’s eyes and he looks away, taking a seat slowly on one of the couches. He leans back and stares up through the ceiling-at the starless sky.
What the hell is he doing here?
Author: himawarixxsandz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): BangHim, ZiKyung, U-Bomb, TaePyo, DaeJae, JongLo
Summary: Thirteen is their lucky number
A/N: TURNED IN ALL MY COLLEGE APPS W E L P except now i have superdance to do bc im a masochist so as soon as i got one thing out of my life i have to have another bc i love time-consuming projects YAY FOR ME but thank jfc christmas is coming soon altho then that means midterms ijfselat ANYWAY enjoy
The Crew // The Crew II // Infiltration // Infiltration II // Infiltration III
By the time seven o’clock hits on the second night of phase one, Taeil, Youngjae, and Daehyun have all luckily been checked into the suite beside the main base of operations. Youngjae and Daehyun help Taeil move his equipment into the living room of the suite that the three would be sleeping in, since the suite with Yukwon and Minhyuk would be the all-purpose one-the one used when they needed Dongsun to see Yukwon or Minhyuk walking in and out of a hotel room. Taeil gets the surveillance feeds going, and instantly they have footage of Dongsun’s central office and bedroom-courtesy of Jongup’s adventure through the air vents on the first day.
Fifteen minutes before seven, Dongsun has freshly showered, suited up, and is heading down to the floor-most likely to check up on the action with his staff before heading to the hotel’s restaurant. Ten minutes before seven, Minhyuk and Yukwon have showered, suited up, wired up with Taeil’s best (and that’s difficult for Yukwon because they have to be careful everything’s taped in places that won’t show due to the nature of Yukwon’s special suit), and are sent out to head down for dinner.
The rest of them crowd around the monitors, huddled around Taeil where he sits at the center of tens of screens and keyboards, microphones and wires. Jongup’s face, illuminated by the glare of the monitor, is filled with all kinds of wonder and curiosity-impressed and excited-and it makes Jiho grin because he remembers then that Jongup has never worked a big con before.
“Remember,” Jiho says into Yukwon and Minhyuk’s ears, leader by proxy whenever Yongguk isn’t present. He leans close to the microphone, sidling up beside Taeil. “Only work him up enough to get what we need.”
There’s only audio feed for the elevators.
“Shut up, Woo Jiho,” comes Yukwon’s voice-sugary sweet and deathly dark.
Jiho grins.
It’s like sitting on one side of a seesaw with the opposing side hanging off a cliff. There’s a rock as heavy as you are on the other end and one errant shift could send you catapulting up through the sky and over the edge. Yongguk is frozen in place on that seesaw, seated and trapped with no way of getting out and his legs are starting to ache. Two days into recon and everything is sailing as smoothly as it ever could, and at the same time he feels like there’s a rope around his neck-tightening moment by moment. It’s even harder, he thinks, to breathe around a chokehold without anyone knowing you can hardly keep yourself standing as seconds pass.
He pauses in the middle of sliding another few wires that Taeil had left behind into the suitcase he’s to bring to the Lotus tomorrow for the third part of infiltration. Someone is at the door-Yongguk hears their nervous, hesitant breathing, attempting to be concealed and contained (and it’s not a bad job of hiding it, but Yongguk’s hearing is too sharp). The breathing pattern isn’t as familiar as it should be, which means it leaves only one person.
“Junhong-ah?” Yongguk says, without turning from where he kneels over the open luggage. “Finished packing?”
“Mostly.” The youngest thief walks around to the other side of Yongguk’s suitcase with folded arms and a curious expression.
Yongguk looks up at him. “What?”
“What’s wrong with you and Himchan-shii?”
Oh.
The smile that slides onto Yongguk’s face is easy, and he wears it with a warm show of teeth and gums and crinkling eyes. “What’s wrong with us?” he deflects.
Junhong’s eyebrows disappear into his beanie. “You’re partners,” he states slowly.
“We are.”
“He hates you.”
And Bang Yongguk, master of thieves, is nothing but ashamed because of the split moment, initial but ever-present, that his smile falters. The corners of his mouth tighten for just that tiny window of time, and his heart contracts until it feels more like a shriveled mound of bleeding flesh than an actual organ. His chest empties out like a cavity. “What makes you say that?” His tone is light, careless-and he continues to grin as if it’s all a joke-a misunderstanding-hilarious.
The younger man’s eyes narrow for a moment in even greater curiosity before he shrugs, looking away. “I wonder what you did to make him hate you so much,” he says in a quiet tone. He slowly walks back around the suitcase, around Yongguk, and leaves the room with soft footsteps.
As soon as Junhong is cleanly out of the room, Yongguk leans against the foot of the bed and lets himself shatter. He draws his knees up, hands hiding his face and for a moment he wants to throttle Hyosung for ever recommending the kid to him. It’s doubtless that Junhong is a genius because Yongguk and Himchan are putting up flawless fronts that the others haven’t even completely broken through yet. The only difference is that Junhong doesn’t know any background details and thinks that all Yongguk and Himchan ever were to each other was partners.
And then there’s the fact that Junhong clearly doesn’t trust anyone on this team yet. Grimly, Yongguk thinks about how nothing Hyosung would have said to the kid could’ve ever made a difference in that because of the very nature of a thief. He lets himself smile a bit remembering how Jiho and Kyung, best friends since birth-given a short break of eleven years-hadn’t even trusted other completely until well after their first con together. There’s only ever the thinly veiled, delicately constructed appearance of trust.
It’s easy to do a con with someone you don’t trust-utterly possible, and not as dangerous as it sounds. For skilled thieves, it’s more practical-more advantageous-to do a con with business-like detachment and zero grounds for emotional baggage. The only sort of trust that needs to be present is the same kind of trust one businessman has to have that his partner doesn’t run away with the money.
That trust, Junhong definitely has.
The other type of trust?
(trust that if there were police on the way and the only options were to bolt for safety, mark and money be damned, that they other party would be there to distract them away from you-trust that, if the mark got violent, had weapons, if there was harm on the horizon, the other party would be there to rough it out with you, to protect you and not escape-trust that, regardless of how high the stakes, the ultimate priority is getting you, your partner, and your teammates out alive and safe-that they’ll never go to prison, that they’ll never be hurt)
Junhong has none of that.
Not yet.
Kyung flails in reflex when Daehyun’s head lands with a thud on Kyung’s shoulder. Both he and Jiho, and Kyung himself, nodded off in the past thirty minutes while Minhyuk, Yukwon, and Dongsun were doing away with pleasantries and ordering food. It’s an artistic difference, Kyung thinks, that probably reasons away why Youngjae and Taeil can somehow resist the pulls of sleep while watching the feeds while Kyung, Jiho, and Daehyun-field men-are half-bored to their actual graves when they aren’t on the field.
Jongup is possibly the only greaseman Kyung has ever met that actually looks as engrossed as Taeil does doing surveillance.
It doesn’t help that neither Youngjae nor Taeil bothered to flick on any lights once the sun went down outside the windows, and Kyung’s mind flashes through all of the times he’s found Taeil sitting in icy stillness in pitch black darkness with only the glow of the monitors illuminating his face. Kyung cricks his neck to the left and then the right, gently pushes Daehyun and Jiho off of himself, and crosses the room to turn on the lights.
“How’re they doing, hyung?” he asks, coming back to place a hand on the back of Taeil’s chair.
Taeil’s teeth are chewing at his lower lip and he answers without looking away. “Brilliant as always-but-Dongsun isn’t spilling.” He fiddles with a switch and the picture zooms in on the three at the table. “At least-nothing we can use.”
“The kid that Yongguk-hyung brought is going to tail him starting tomorrow though, right?” Kyung says. “It’s fine, then-this is just-”
“Still,” Taeil cuts him off. “It’d be nice to have some precautionary measures. Himchan wants that.”
Kyung sucks his cheeks in, biting them thoughtfully as he stares down at Minhyuk and Yukwon on the screen. There’s only so much smolder Yukwon can send Dongsun while in Minhyuk’s supposed presence, and there’s only so much that can happen with a table in between them. Dongsun has all his firewalls up with Minhyuk there, and the dinner is winding down to a close a little bit faster than planned. He meets eyes with Taeil.
“Pull him into overdrive,” Kyung sighs.
Taeil blinks. “Are you-”
Kyung grabs the microphone, leaning down into it. “Yukwon-ah,” he says resignedly, “don’t make us regret letting you do this.”
For the briefest of moments, Yukwon’s eyes flicker right up at the security camera-a wordless enquiry.
“Yeah,” and Kyung hopes to any god that’s listening that this won’t end up with Dongsun in a neck brace tomorrow morning, “go ahead.”
Taeil turns the audio feed up and hands Kyung an extra set of headphones. Youngjae seems to have drifted off with Jongup into the Land of Nod, settling down beside Jiho and Daehyun on the sofas. Kyung takes a seat beside Taeil and they watch as Yukwon stands up with a beatific smile, excusing himself politely to the restroom. A few short moments and a few short words pass between Minhyuk and Dongsun before Dongsun himself also stands and heads to the restroom.
Kyung takes a bracing breath, a grin fighting on his lips as Taeil switches on the audio feed to the bathrooms (and they have no visual feed because cameras in public bathrooms are just a little bothersome to manage).
Despite what the rest of the crew thinks, Yukwon can control himself. His skills set relies solely on control so he honestly doesn’t understand why there’s always and forever a bit of fear in the others’ eyes whenever they find that the only choice is to let him do some dirty work. And it’s been a fair while since he’s had any real challenge-it’s been a long while since there’s been anything personal in a mark-so there’s nothing short of complete, and utter elation that courses through him while he pretends to finish washing his hands in the restaurant’s bathroom.
Dongsun comes through the doors right on schedule.
He also steps behind Yukwon, places his hands on either side of the younger man, traps him effectively against the sink-right on schedule.
Yukwon lifts his eyes to the mirror.
“So,” and Dongsun’s nose is skimming the side of Yukwon’s throat.
Game start.
Yukwon shivers-trembles-deliciously at Dongsun’s touch, letting fear and anticipation and complete hunger rise through him, projecting it towards Dongsun at full force. It’s like riding a bicycle, he thinks-no matter how long it’s been, you can never forget how to do it-muscle memory. He grins to himself inside-laughs loud and excitedly because-oh-this is fun. “Yukwon-ah,” Taeil’s voice in his ear and it’s worried, “I don’t hear anything-you know we can’t see you, right? It’s just audio for the bathrooms-and you know that Minhyuk can only give fifteen minutes-hurry up and get something out of him.”
Okay, so maybe another time-right now, Yukwon’s working. (he sighs)
“Stop,” Yukwon spins around in Dongsun’s hold, pushing at the older man weakly-ineffectively-and he whines breathlessly, “Stop-what if Minhyuk-hyung-”
Dongsun laughs. “What’ll he do?” he snorts. “What can he do? Arms dealer,” his eyes roll irritably. “He’s up and coming in the industry and if I haven’t had his name come across my secretary’s table, he’s still worthless amateur shit, Yukwon-ah.” His hands come up to grip Yukwon’s arms, painful and tight (but Yukwon is working so he grits his teeth and restrains the urge to flip Dongsun onto his back and shatter his skull). “He can’t do anything for you, and you should’ve never run away with him, you worthless little slut.”
Oh-
Maybe-Yukwon swallows-oh-muscle memory-so why is he freezing up? (but no, he can’t freeze up and it’s only that perhaps-maybe-possibly-Yukwon hasn’t seen Dongsun in years upon years and he suddenly feels a little seventeen again and a little vulnerable but it doesn’t mean anything, it just means he hasn’t been in the groove of handling someone as horrid as Dongsun in a while-someone who’s always fed and preyed on Yukwon’s every insecurity and fear and that’s all right, he’ll be used to blocking Dongsun out in a few days time)
“Yukwon-ah?” and now it’s Kyung’s voice-shaken and furious and (fuck, audio feed).
(so Yukwon brings up Minhyuk’s face-Lee Minhyuk and everything he is-in his mind’s eye, breathes in once and out once and thinks and feels and pictures Minhyuk)
“I was scared,” Yukwon whispers pleadingly at Dongsun, and feels control slipping back like comforting warmth into his fingertips. He’s in control-he is in perfect control-and Dongsun can’t take that away. Yukwon pulls in mantra exercises that he hasn’t done in years through his mind, regaining control as every second passes. (He’s stronger-faster-deadlier-a better liar-a better actor-he’s not in danger-he’ll never be in danger again-he’s working-he’s not a slut-he’s not worthless-he’s above Dongsun-he has to do this)
“Atta boy,” Taeil’s voice is firm and warm in Yukwon’s ear, and Yukwon holds back a smile because how well, really, must they all know him to be able to discern through just single words and silences whether Yukwon is in his comfort zone or out of it.
Dongsun merely looks bored. “Scared of what? Scared of some agent with no money to his name-scared enough to let him convince you to leave me? Or did he convince you with stealing away your brother’s property? Don’t think-”
“You wouldn’t even let me see him!” Yukwon screams hysterically and falls to the bathroom floor in a heap. He quickly does his usual routine of pinching the inside of his wrist coupled with thinking of Yushin bleeding to death in an abandoned warehouse somewhere, and it’s not long before his eyes are brimming wet as he looks up at an irritated Dongsun (because whenever Yukwon used to get hurt by Dongsun’s wayward guards assigned to him, Dongsun had never looked anything but annoyed). “I had to-”
Dongsun kneels down beside Yukwon. “Shut up,” he hisses vehemently. He grabs Yukwon’s face with both hands, painful pressure on Yukwon’s jaw and cheekbones and he holds back the glare he wants to shoot at the older man-softens it instead to something frightened and weak. “You’re the one who’s been making eyes at me through dinner-you’re the one who wants to come crawling back to me because you know I’m making it bigger than him in the states-and you’re the one who’s going to have to fucking beg on your hands and knees before I’ll even think of taking you back.”
He lets go of Yukwon scathingly and stands up, fisting Yukwon’s hair harshly. Yukwon tips his head up just enough to meet Dongsun’s eyes. The younger man blinks, pushing a light stream of tears from either eye down his cheeks. “He’s going to kill me if he finds out,” he says throatily-hoarsely. “You might have more manpower, but he-”
“Kwon-ah,” Dongsun whispers, leaning in, mockingly gentle as his lips graze over Yukwon’s. “You don’t build an empire by being nice. There’re backroom deals and how easy do you think it’d be for Lee Minhyuk to disappear in a backroom-and for you to disappear with me? We can make this work-fight night, if you want-if you know what that is.”
Oh-okay.
“We got it, Yukwon-ah,” Kyung’s voice is ecstatic. “Finish it off-make it fast, though, Minhyuk-hyung’s about to bust the door open.”
Yukwon shakes his head at Dongsun uselessly, tilting his head in and pushing out neediness and lust and helplessness towards the older man. He projects and projects and projects until Dongsun’s eyes are coated with pity and disdain and amused disgust and lust (and oh-how that’s always the most important part). “Hyung,” he whimpers and digs his fingertips into Dongsun’s shirt, scratching and he drags himself closer until he can grind up on Dongsun’s thigh pathetically.
If he wants to end this quickly and get out in record time, he has to get hard-Yukwon rolls his eyes internally when he catches sight of Dongsun’s pants already tented and straining. Minhyuk-Minhyuk-Minhyuk-and he forces Minhyuk’s face once again to spring up on the backs of his eyelids, conjures the warmth and familiarity of Minhyuk’s fingers and hands (tongue and lips), thinks in great detail about the last time Minhyuk was buried in Yukwon all the way to the hilt, intense and hot and fierce (and Yukwon remembers screams muffled against Minhyuk’s shoulder).
He’s hard.
“Only because I’m so nice,” Dongsun murmurs into Yukwon’s ear as the older man brings both of their cocks out, holding them against each other and thrusting up against Yukwon to increase the maddening friction. Yukwon closes his eyes now and pretends that that’s Minhyuk’s hand and Minhyuk’s cock and in no time at all he holds back a shout at the same time Dongsun comes.
Taeil looks exhausted when he flicks off the audio feed and switches it back to where Minhyuk, underneath the expressionless exterior, is clearly about to tear his own head off. “Hyung,” Kyung leans into the microphone, and feels a little shaken himself, as he watches Minhyuk’s eyes flicker towards the camera, “they’re done. Dongsun should be coming out in a few seconds and he’s going to leave the restaurant right after he pays. We’ll tell you once he’s completely out and then you can go get Yukwonie.”
Minhyuk gives a discreet nod, and right on time, Dongsun saunters out from the direction of the restrooms. Even through the feed, Kyung can make out the pink flush on Dongsun’s cheeks and he can also make out Minhyuk visibly tensing-it’s something that’s necessary but Kyung knows that Minhyuk, and Jiho for that matter, will never particularly like about Kyung and Yukwon’s line of expertise.
“Okay,” Kyung says, once Dongsun has smirked, paid the bill, and walked right past the table to head out of the restaurant, “mark off site-target cleared-at ease.”
Minhyuk disappears off the visual faster than Taeil has time to switch it off.
It’s only a handjob and Yukwon just had to feign trauma and weariness as Dongsun walked out of the restroom with a satisfied smirk, wiping his hands off on a paper towel, but-nevertheless-Yukwon can’t help but smile in breathless relief when Minhyuk walks through the door and gathers the younger man up in his arms.
“Gimme a high-five, hyung,” Yukwon teases, and holds his hand up limply as best he can while Minhyuk seemingly tries to wrap himself around Yukwon in what might possibly be the World’s Most Suffocating Embrace.
“You’re such a goddamn dick,” Minhyuk says, voice muffled against Yukwon’s neck.
Yukwon laughs and hugs Minhyuk back.
Jiho switches off the audio feed and looks around at the suite’s dining table. Minhyuk and Yukwon have returned but they headed straight for their own room since Yukwon obviously already knows all that happened and Minhyuk’s decided to be briefed tomorrow along with Yongguk, Junhong and Jaehyo who’ll be arriving at the hotel sometime around noon in their respective ways. Taeil is making copies of the audio, and Youngjae, Daehyun, and Jongup are taking turns with the sole copy they have now that Kyung is holding.
“Dongsun’s dirty work got dirtier,” Jiho sums up briskly. “Nothing surprising but we have it on recording now-and it’s something to watch out for. Yongguk-hyung’ll probably want to be the one who goes into this on fight night.”
“Or Himchan-hyung,” Daehyun says, tapping his hands on the table. “They’ll probably fight to see who gets to go in on it.” He exchanges glances with Youngjae and Kyung rubs over his own eyes with another sigh.
Jongup looks confused.
Jiho glances down at the inoffensive little machine, headphones stringing out from it. “It’s pretty dangerous if Himchan-hyung insists,” he says. “He could be compromised-I mean-” He looks to Kyung for help.
“Yukwonie was out of it,” Kyung says to Daehyun. “You didn’t hear but-he-for only a second, yeah, but he was out of it. If Dongsun can get to him, and he didn’t even care about Dongsun, you really want to know what’ll happen if Himchan-hyung gets too close? I’m going to back Yongguk-hyung if he insists. Himchan-hyung’s going to lose us the job.”
“Except Yongguk-hyung’s been in prison for the last four years,” Youngjae stresses obviously, slamming his hand lightly down on the table. “He’s still brilliant but he’s not exactly the best man to-”
Jiho snorts. “And where’s Himchan-hyung been the last four years? Off the map that even none of us can track him-never answering his calls and he could’ve been dead for all we knew-guess he just didn’t care enough to let any of us know since he was too busy with Christ-knows-what doing-”
The screech of a chair being toppled to the floor and Jongup is striding to the door of the suite, yanking it open and slamming it shut in his wake.
Silence follows but it doesn’t stretch for very long.
“Fantastic teamwork, guys,” Kyung says.
Daehyun covers his eyes and Youngjae lowers his own gaze to the table.
Jiho buries his face in his hands.
He doesn’t go very far.
Just up to one of the floors that has an open common area for the higher, more valued guests. It’s only a few floors above the one that they’re all staying on, and there’s an open ceiling-clear to display Vegas’s night sky-and lots of little, fake plants interspersed between the modern, oriental-styled furniture of the space. Jongup walks out of the elevator and moves to stand as close as he can to the railing that separates the room from the floor-to-ceiling windows.
There’re no stars in Vegas-all the stars are artificial and powered with electricity, lining skyscrapers and billboards.
Jongup doesn’t like it.
And he doesn’t like this job.
He likes working-he’ll always love working-and he likes the people.
It just feels like, regardless of how they pat his back and welcome him, he isn’t really a part of them. He knows that Daehyun and Youngjae love him-but he feels like when it comes down to it, they love him and trust him as Moon Jongup-as the kid that trails along behind Himchan. There’s nothing yet that conveys if they trust him on his own-if they value him as a greaseman, as one of the crew-if they even consider him one of the crew.
Most of all, he hates how everyone seems to hold something against Himchan for those months Himchan apparently dropped off the face of their world-those months when Himchan appeared and spent in Jongup’s world. He hates how they all begrudge Himchan that period of time-as though there’s something inherently wrong with just wanting to be a little normal, to keep your head down peacefully and not flaunt your illegal peacock feathers straight and proud at all times.
Or maybe it’s just that Jongup’s skills set is too different-that it takes different people to be different things and Jongup knows that he could never be confident enough to wear so many different skins-the way Daehyun and Jiho and Kyung and Minhyuk and Yukwon do. He thinks that he’s irritated with those five the most-he knows, of course he does, that they can’t do anything without them, that they’re all central to the plan, and that Himchan-while he’s a details man-sometimes takes on the deceitful role of another person as well.
The lights of the city burn Jongup’s eyes and he looks away, taking a seat slowly on one of the couches. He leans back and stares up through the ceiling-at the starless sky.
What the hell is he doing here?