Thirteen: Construction (Ocean's Eleven AU)
Title: Construction (7/? 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: I AM SO SORRY IT HAS LITERALLY BEEN OVER A MONTH but here it is ;A; and im dedicating this chapter to these three amazing girls. without whom my bap experience wouldn't be half as amazing T.T.
The Crew / The Crew II / Infiltration / Infiltration II / Infiltration III // Reconnaissance // Construction // Interlude
Everything Jaehyo feels on the ride over to the warehouse is something he’d rather never feel again in his life-some awkward mix of anticipation, nervousness, and guilt. The first two are inspired strictly from the fact that he’s sitting in the front row of a truck hauling the construction workers with Yongguk right beside him and it’s the general consensus of everyone in the crew that being alone with Yongguk these days just isn’t an ideal situation. There’s at least the construction head on Jaehyo’s other side to mildly diffuse the atmosphere, but the head constructor is driving so there’s not much to work with there.
The guilt, on the other hand, is a pure byproduct of waking up earlier this morning to marks all over his body that were decidedly not a result of his own handiwork but the familiar mouth of someone else entirely. Last night, he’d at least had the good graces within him to remember to relocate to Taeil’s bedroom, but that still meant that Jaehyo had had to sneak back to his own before any of the others woke up and even then, Jiho and Kyung weren’t particularly sympathetic in the looks they shot him across the suite as they all prepared to go about their business for today.
Jiho is the one who brought Jihoon into the business in the first place and retains a soft spot for the younger man far past the days when Jihoon was still learning the ropes. Kyung, because he loves Jiho, loves Jihoon by default. Jiho and Kyung, because Jihoon loves Taeil, by default aren’t too happy with Taeil as of late. And Jaehyo supposes that, also by default, because Jaehyo is the only one who Taeil has occasional no-strings-attached sex with every now and again aside from Jihoon (whom Taeil has much more regular no-strings-attached sex with), Jiho and Kyung aren’t too happy with him either.
Jaehyo knows he should’ve said no-should’ve literally walked away last night instead of the half-assed dissuasion attempt that really wasn’t even an attempt. He and Taeil are never going to work and he’s over and okay with that. Taeil and Jihoon though Jaehyo feels could actually work and having sex with Taeil last night helped no one. It’s just-he can’t help how he feels-and even though there’s no love-nothing lasting and strong like Jihoon might have in store for Taeil, Jaehyo will never stop loving Taeil.
Jihoon has known Taeil for two years but Jaehyo has known Taeil for ten. The love Jaehyo has for Taeil isn’t strong enough for Jaehyo to give up what he has and what he wants other than Taeil, but it’s strong enough for Jaehyo to let Taeil go if Jihoon will be what Taeil should really have. His love isn’t, however, strong enough to help Jihoon.
Lee Taeil only comes kicking and scratching and Jaehyo has already gotten his fair share of scars. If Jihoon wants Taeil, then it’s only fair the younger man does the same (and if Jaehyo has popcorn and a front row seat, there is nothing wrong with that).
Yongguk was in prison for four years, and during the last three, Himchan learned to live without him. He’s learned to live without missing him-without feeling like there’s something that will always be missing-a limb, an organ, an emotion. A week or so without Yongguk feels like nothing in comparison to the few months it took for Himchan to wean himself off of Yongguk between that first year and the second. So he doesn’t know how to explain to himself the feeling of utter relief he feels as he watches Yongguk jump out of the front of one of the construction trucks.
Himchan compartmentalizes the surge of emotion off as unnecessary-pathetic.
Residue that he’ll manage to wipe away like everything else sooner or later.
But as Yongguk comes closer, it feels like sooner will have to be later because absolutely nothing prepares Himchan for the way his stomach drops to his feet when he sees that Yongguk is still thinner than Bang Yongguk is supposed to be. He clearly hasn’t been sleeping either. Himchan was willing to overlook the weight loss and the red eyes when Yongguk had first walked out of those horrifically gray, cement halls. The man just came out of prison. It’d be absurd if he didn’t look like a gaunt insomniac.
It’s been nearly three weeks since then.
Yongguk doesn’t even seem to have gained an ounce.
Jaehyo’s hand comes down briskly on Himchan’s shoulder. “Where should I tell them to go?” he asks, jerking his head back at the workers. “Unload here?”
“Yeah,” Himchan licks his lips. He clears his throat. “They can bring one of the trucks to the back-there’ll be a door there and it leads right to where Jihoon and I marked the floor-he’ll be in there to tell them where to go.”
Jaehyo gives a short nod, waving over to the drivers of the trucks. The backer points them towards the other end of the warehouse, directing them over to where Jihoon is waiting near the open garage doors. Himchan waits until he’s followed in that same direction-waits until Jiho, Kyung, Youngjae, and Daehyun have started to file into the warehouse as well (and he hears Jihoon reuniting with boisterous shouts with Jiho). He wants to wait until Jongup goes in as well, but that’s just cruel, wishful thinking.
Yongguk is idly lingering in the dry lot in front of the warehouse opening.
Himchan paints an even smile on his face as Jongup approaches him with a single-armed hug-brief but tight. “Hey, kid,” he says, and inhales deeply against Jongup’s neck. It’ll never not be horrible of him, but Himchan will never be able to help it. There’s something about Jongup that slows Himchan’s heartbeat into something solid and steady. There’s something about Jongup that’s solid and steady-stable and unmoving and comforting. Jongup will never be enough, but Himchan has no doubts that without the boy, Himchan would never have survived that second year.
Without Jongup, Himchan would’ve never found the resolve to go on alone and live through the third and fourth years.
“Careful, hyung,” Jongup pulls away first, hesitant amusement in his eyes. “You’ll make me think that you missed me.”
Himchan tugs an arm around the boy’s shoulders and laughs into his ear. “You’d think right.”
And he knows he’s being cruel-he knows he shouldn’t-he knows.
But even now, he still does love Jongup.
(it’s just not enough but Himchan wishes it was because if only he could be in love with Jongup-wouldn’t everything be easier then?)
“Hyung,” Jongup laughs, even as he rolls his eyes. He flashes a last, small smile and then Himchan pats him off on his way into the warehouse. Once he’s clear out of earshot, Yongguk steps forward and his eyes flicker from Jongup’s retreating back to Himchan’s face.
“How is he?” Himchan asks, sliding his hands into his pockets and regarding his partner.
Yongguk shrugs. “Good,” his eyebrows rise. “Really good. Jiho and Kyung tell me he’s still a little emotional sometimes-but we can work that out. He’ll get better.” He grins slightly, head tilted towards Himchan. “Trained him pretty well, huh?”
“He’s not a puppy, Yongguk-ah,” Himchan says, and he doesn’t know why he’s bristling defensively because it’s a fair observation. It’s the way things work-Himchan did train Jongup, the same way he trained Daehyun and, partially, Yukwon.
“Never said he was,” Yongguk sounds confused. “I just-you did a good job on him. He’s good.”
“Not as good as your lapdog, though, right?”
And oh-oh-Himchan regrets those words the moment they leave his lips because that’s completely unwarranted and he doesn’t even understand where it comes from. Junhong has nothing to do with this and Himchan thinks he likes Junhong, and this is completely and utterly uncalled for but he said it and-
Yongguk’s face darkens-hardens. “This is the first time I’m working with Junhong and you know it.” His eyes narrow. “But it’s not the first time you’ve worked with Jongup, is it?”
For all Himchan cares-for all Himchan doesn’t care-Yongguk can starve to death, can never sleep another moment in his life, can have nightmare after nightmare, can waste away into nothing during this job. Himchan doesn’t care. Himchan is too far past furious and frustrated to care (and betrayed and hurt and devastated) because he’s learned that there’s no point in caring about someone who would throw everything away to save Himchan when that’s hardly saving Himchan at all.
He’s not interested in loving a man who won’t even lie to keep Himchan sane.
(why did you tell me the truth when I didn’t want it)
There’s such thing as etiquette among thieves. It can generally be foregone when the crew you work with are friends as well as colleagues, but that usually takes more than two jobs and Junhong doesn’t have that kind of leisure right now. He doesn’t have much of a mind to go by the book in how he confronts any of the others because he’s learned that in the underground world, the hierarchy is based less on age and more on skill. And his own personal logic is if he’s good enough for them to recruit him, for them to clearly have some need of his skill set, then he’s good enough to demand any sort of information he personally deems necessary to get by during the job.
That includes knowing what the fuck is going on with the two leaders of this entire godforsaken operation.
His assignment is to snoop around Dongsun. His assignment isn’t to snoop around his own crewmates in order to find information that he should’ve been given in a neat manila folder from the beginning. He doesn’t have the time nor is he willing to waste the energy that it’s going to take to find things out without any of them knowing he knows. He also thinks it’s ridiculous that he should have to sneak around to know general knowledge. He doesn’t even particularly care that it might be personal history. If he, with all his training on reading people and gathering minute detail, thinks that it has the possibility of compromising the job, then personal history is now obligated to become common knowledge.
“Tell me or I leave,” is all he decides Minhyuk needs to hear.
Yukwon and Taeil are going over footage of Dongsun in another room, and conveniently, everyone else is at the warehouse for the start of construction. Junhong waited until Dongsun went for a briefing on the casino’s finances for the week before he slipped up and cornered Minhyuk in his and Yukwon’s bedroom. Minhyuk silently finishes slipping his feet into his shoes, leans forward with his elbows resting on his thighs and looks up at Junhong with steady eyes. “Tell you what?” he asks evenly.
“I’ll leave,” Junhong says, because he will. He really will.
He’s in on this job not because of Yongguk’s personal visit, offering him a ticket to Vegas after impressing him by interfering on his lift. He’s not in on this job because he admires any of the big names that are in this assembly (and they are big names-huge names-celebrities amongst thieves). He’s in on this job only because Hyosung had convinced him that he’ll thank her one day for recommending him to Yongguk. She was adamant that he take this job so he did. Her advice never fails him and she was the one who trained him.
But he’s not going to go to prison for thieves he hardly knows.
He’s here for the money and he’s here to win. He’s not here to be compromised because reported professionals are losing their touch and being explicitly unprofessional. Leave emotion at the door. It’s the easiest and most basic first rule of being a thief and from what Junhong’s seen of Yongguk (the man is losing weight and sleep by the second), whatever emotion remained from being in prison for four years clearly hasn’t resolved itself in time to do a con so soon. He doesn’t understand why Yongguk insists on doing a con this absurd so soon after he came out anyway.
It’s stupid.
Minhyuk nods at the loveseat against the wall. Junhong sits. “I can only tell you what I know,” Minhyuk says, hands folded tightly. “And I don’t know everything.”
“But you know why Yukwon-shii lapsed in that bathroom audio with Dongsun,” Junhong states and watches the color leave Minhyuk’s face despite how the other thief’s expression remains carefully blank. “And you’ll tell me. Or I’ll leave.”
“It-”
“I know it’s all connected. Don’t bullshit me that it’s not.”
Minhyuk stands, and suddenly his face isn’t so expressionless. Suddenly, somehow, Junhong feels like Minhyuk is towering over him in spite of the obvious few inches Junhong has on the other man. “I’m not going to deny that we need you,” Minhyuk says in a low, terse voice, “and I’m not going to deny that you have a right to know. But this part of the story isn’t mine to tell-it’s Yukwon’s. I have to tell you anyway because you came to me. I’m obligated to tell you to keep you here, but you’re obligated not to look at Yukwon differently, not to think of him differently, not to ask him any questions, not to think any less of him.”
Junhong’s fingers curl into fists. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good,” and it’s a dark whisper out of Minhyuk’s lips. “Because if you do, I can promise you that you’ll be begging to die. Death will be a kindness.”
There’s fear. Junhong is scared, but the fear isn’t crippling. Far greater, far more prevalent in his mind than the fear is the sudden realization that he really doesn’t have to worry about Minhyuk if they’re compromised because Minhyuk will have taken Yukwon and boarded the first plane to the other side of the world. He wonders if Minhyuk knows that he’s just given Junhong more relief than threats. While Junhong doesn’t doubt that Minhyuk could and would very easily kill Junhong or anyone that’s a danger to Yukwon, Minhyuk won’t. He’d rather cart Yukwon off to safety before hurting anyone that endangers Yukwon.
If Yongguk or Himchan compromise the job, Minhyuk is going to turn from friend to foe in the time it takes to blink.
Junhong settles into the loveseat and waits until Minhyuk’s lost the darkness in his eyes-waits until he’s sat back down on the edge of the bed. “You’ll kill me,” Junhong says calmly. “I get it. So tell me-take it from the top.”
Minhyuk licks his lips. “Himchan and Dongsun,” he begins quietly, “used to be partners.”
When Yongguk walked out of prison, he’d felt invincible. The moment the sunlight hit him, the moment he’d shrugged off the orange jumpsuit, the moment he’d walked through that door, he’d felt perfect. He felt like him again for the first time in four years. It was everything he thought it would feel like during that period of darkness. It had been bright and ideal for all of that first minute he spent as a free man. There had even been a lack of pain when he’d laid eyes on Himchan for the first time in four years.
And then it ended.
Because the crushing, crippling reality is that Yongguk doesn’t know how to do this anymore. It’s like everything he’s doing now-it’s like living, freedom-is all based off of muscle memory and whenever he stops long enough to think, everything flies out the window. He loses control and the only way to stop that is to keep busy-to work every moment he’s awake because otherwise his grip goes slack and everything is shot. Sleeping is shot for him-every attempt has been so unsuccessful that he’s decided to forego it as much as possible.
He’ll sleep when others are watching-feign it, at the very least-but otherwise, it’s four cups of espresso and the latest information they’ve scouted on Dongsun.
Food doesn’t seem to stay down either, whenever Yongguk can muster up an appetite to stomach it in the first place. And that, he thinks, is the bigger problem. He can hide bloodshot eyes to a certain degree, but there’s no hiding the fact that he isn’t regaining the weight he should. Looks don’t make the man, but they definitely make the thief. They especially make the thief who’s skill set lies in impressing people into giving away precious details about priceless valuables.
A shadow of a man underweight by at least twenty pounds isn’t going to get shit.
He hates mirrors.
He thinks maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much to look at his reflection now if he didn’t have such a clear memory of what his reflection before. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much to see darkness cupping his eyes, red cobwebs against the white, defeat clear and present in the gaze, if he didn’t clearly remember how there once was confidence bordering on admired arrogance in those same eyes-always well-rested, proud and knowing, easy and playful, bright and wicked. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see how clothes hang loose and ill on his frame if he didn’t so clearly remember how everything he wore always used to fit him like a glove-how he turned heads so that marks came to him practically begging for him to steal their pockets empty.
And maybe, even the restless nights spent tossing and turning wouldn’t be so unendurable if he didn’t so perfectly remember the warm, familiar body that always used to sleep beside him. If maybe those familiar eyes would even spare a glance across the warehouse at his direction, then maybe everything would be just that much more endurable. The simmering anger is tangible every time they speak to each other, every time Yongguk even approaches Himchan.
Yongguk doesn’t blame him and he can’t regret it. He doesn’t. But even if he wanted to take it all back, it’s too late. He’s already laid out every card he has-he’s shown Himchan all there is to see and now there’s nothing left. There’s no hope in winning Himchan back with this con-all this job could possibly be used for is to gain Himchan’s trust back. That’s all Yongguk could ever even dream of doing, and in the end, Yongguk feels like that’s all it’ll ever be.
A dream.
When Himchan asks Youngjae to head up to the half-level and grab the packet of plans on Jihoon’s nightstand, Daehyun follows. Youngjae hears him follow, discreetly and silently, and Youngjae makes sure not to look over his shoulder until they have both climbed the ladder and drawn the curtains to hide them from view of the floor below. Daehyun’s hands are cover his eyes and Youngjae whirls around at him. “What’re we going to do?” he whispers-hisses-and he hates how frantic he sounds.
Daehyun lowers his hands until they’re formed into a prayer, clasped in front of his full lips as his eyes drift away into thought. “I don’t know,” he whispers back, pacing. “They both think they’re okay. I think-Himchan-hyung really thinks he’s okay, but Yongguk-hyung knows he’s not. Himchan-hyung knows Yongguk-hyung’s not okay but Yongguk-hyung thinks Himchan-hyung doesn’t give a fuck about him anymore and-”
“What happened?” Youngjae sits down on the bed and rubs a hand over his face.
Daehyun shakes his head and closes his eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, walking around the two beds and searching the scattered tables for the packet of plans they’re supposed to be getting. “You know them. They’re not going to let us do anything. Our job is just to make sure nothing goes wrong so that at least they’ll be okay enough to solve things on their own. I mean-they’re still partners. They made that clear.”
Their eyes meet and Youngjae swallows.
Partners.
He thought that the worst was finding out Yongguk was in prison-that just watching Himchan disappear off the face of the earth (whether from devastation or a sorrow too great) was already the worst that they could face. All of that had already terrified Youngjae. It was already terrifying to watch the kind of pain both of them went through just being separated and now there was another kind of pain. They could be together again-Yongguk is out, Yongguk is free, but instead of reuniting, they’re ripping each other apart as if it was four years ago all over.
What if what destroyed them destroyed him and Daehyun?
“What do I do?” Youngjae asks quietly. At the end of today, Daehyun is heading back but Youngjae is staying at the warehouse for the rest of construction.
“Yongguk-hyung,” Daehyun says immediately, voice tight. “Right now, he’s worse off than Himchan-hyung. Just-I don’t-I guess-make sure he sleeps. And eats. He’s more important than Himchan-hyung right now-he’s falling apart.”
Youngjae takes the packet of plans into his arms. “I mean,” he says, meeting Daehyun’s eyes again. “They both are.”
They can’t show anything in front of the others.
In front of the others, Himchan smiles at Yongguk-grins and works with him and teases him as if they were on just another job five years ago. It’s a bitter parody of how things used to be but it is what it needs to be. Yongguk plays along with the charade and, in the back of his own mind, Himchan knows that they aren’t really fooling anyone. There’s something too obviously wrong with this entire picture but the moment they stop pretending is the moment that everyone will think they can now ask questions as to what the hell happened four years ago.
It’s a story Himchan doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to tell.
And when Yongguk is smoothing out a set of plans onto one of the tables and Himchan reaches out, fingers brushing over Yongguk’s wrist before landing on the paper because Himchan was looking in the other direction-when Himchan feels the bones protruding against the skin because there just isn’t enough flesh anymore-when Himchan feels strung-up tension just through a touch-when it becomes painfully clear that Yongguk hasn’t even begun to recover (sleeping, eating, healing-none of it?)-
Nothing.
None of it means anything.
All it means is that Himchan needs to clear out the rest of the feelings that insist on clinging to him like a disease. Yongguk can take care of himself. Yongguk chose to go to prison, and these are the repercussions (and Himchan knew this would happen-he knew this would happen and he knew that Yongguk knew so why would Yongguk choose to go in Himchan’s place-why couldn’t he have just let Himchan go because at least then it wouldn’t have been a choice-it wouldn’t have been a sacrifice-it never had to be a sacrifice and Himchan never asked-)
“Hyung.”
Himchan bites the inside of his cheek hard-pain rooting him back to reality-and raises his eyebrows at Jihoon. The ones who’re to go back are loading their things up into one of the cars, while the ones who’re staying are outside of the warehouse seeing them off. Only Jihoon is left, and he looks like he’s been sent. “Yeah?”
“Jaehyo-hyung asked if he needs to order any more workers to be sent over,” the younger man says. “Minhyuk-hyung called and said that they need him over at the hotel so he’s not going to be staying.”
Himchan casts a quick eye at the plans in front of him. “No,” he says in a measured tone. “I think we’re good to go.”
“Okay,” Jihoon flashes him a brisk grin. “See you later, then.” He gives Himchan a short salute, turning on his heel and making for the warehouse doors, but for some reason Himchan just can’t leave it at that. It’s only been a little over a week, and Himchan has put up all necessary guards whenever confronting Jihoon about anything that isn’t the job, but Himchan can’t deny the obvious. He likes Jihoon. He likes Jihoon past what the kid can do.
“Jihoon-ah,” he calls out.
The forger stops mid-step. Turns his head with quizzically raised eyebrows.
Himchan smiles hesitantly. “Lee Taeil never does things without a reason,” he offers. “Find out what the reason is.”
Something unreadable crosses through Jihoon’s eyes and Himchan doesn’t even have a prayer of deciphering it because he really doesn’t know Pyo Jihoon that well at all. But he knows enough to know that he loves Lee Taeil with every ounce of his giant heart the way only a young thief can (and Himchan closes that way because the parallels hurt too much to think about-because maybe if Himchan could stop loving his partner the way Taeil stopped loving Jaehyo, then maybe Himchan could have the same hope Taeil does in starting over with a thief who hasn’t been so tainted with history).
“Thanks,” Jihoon says and it’s barely audible but Himchan hears loud and clear.
Himchan just gives another smile. “Good luck, kid.”
Yukwon will never understand how Taeil manages to stay awake on surveillance watch for hours on end-or, even more impressively, how Taeil manages to rewatch all of the videos, go through all of the audio, a second and third time to pause and slow down or differentiate pitches for briefings with the rest of the crew. It’s rather admirable especially when the mark being surveyed nearly twenty-four hours of every day is Hwang Dongsun. Yukwon is already narrowing his eyes and he’s only been at Taeil’s side, reviewing the videos, for all of ten minutes.
Taeil adjusts the volume on their headsets slightly. “You really hate him,” he states noncommittally.
“You don’t?” Yukwon leans back in his seat, stretching his arms up above his head and tilting his gaze towards the older man.
Taeil shrugs. “He’s a bastard. Like any other mark.”
Yukwon smiles. “So is that a yes or no, hyung?”
The other man levels Yukwon with a knowing gaze. “Just don’t let your personal vendettas compromise anything, Kim Yukwon. Even Minhyuk looks like he’s scared of you these days.”
And that, therein, is particularly absurd to Yukwon. He thinks it’s positively hilarious that nearly everyone thinks he’s the one who’s going to burst into a fit of rage and lose them this job during a crucial moment when he’s not the one who was ever in love with a man who can hardly even be called human-with someone who has no qualms about using a seventeen-year-old boy as his personal blowup doll for all of four years-with someone who didn’t seem to have any hesitation about betraying his partner (his lover) to years in prison in turn for his own safety and wealth.
“But Himchan-hyung is all set to go, right?” Yukwon counters coolly. “No one’s worried about him screwing up. He’s perfectly in control.”
Taeil’s expression is weary and wary as he meets Yukwon’s eyes. “He’s not the one in close contact with Dongsun on this job.”
Yukwon pauses the video, zooming in on the unfamiliar set of doors Dongsun is going into. “If you ask me,” he says calmly, “he should be. We need to ruffle Dongsun’s feathers, and since me and Minhyuk-hyung clearly aren’t doing that, maybe Himchan-hyung could.” He writes down the numbers, locations, and appearance details of the door so he can look it up later tonight in person. It looks promising (like maybe-the doors to the security room overlooking the vault).
As Taeil presses play and starts the video up again, Yukwon catches the idea taking root in the other thief’s mind. It’s a good start, he thinks, because while Yukwon’s suggestions will be taken as brash and fueled with emotion, Taeil’s suggestions will doubtlessly be taken as only for the good of the con.
Yukwon smiles.
Author: himawarixxsandz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): BangHim, ZiKyung, U-Bomb, TaePyo, DaeJae, JongLo
Summary: Thirteen is their lucky number
A/N: I AM SO SORRY IT HAS LITERALLY BEEN OVER A MONTH but here it is ;A; and im dedicating this chapter to these three amazing girls. without whom my bap experience wouldn't be half as amazing T.T.
The Crew / The Crew II / Infiltration / Infiltration II / Infiltration III // Reconnaissance // Construction // Interlude
Everything Jaehyo feels on the ride over to the warehouse is something he’d rather never feel again in his life-some awkward mix of anticipation, nervousness, and guilt. The first two are inspired strictly from the fact that he’s sitting in the front row of a truck hauling the construction workers with Yongguk right beside him and it’s the general consensus of everyone in the crew that being alone with Yongguk these days just isn’t an ideal situation. There’s at least the construction head on Jaehyo’s other side to mildly diffuse the atmosphere, but the head constructor is driving so there’s not much to work with there.
The guilt, on the other hand, is a pure byproduct of waking up earlier this morning to marks all over his body that were decidedly not a result of his own handiwork but the familiar mouth of someone else entirely. Last night, he’d at least had the good graces within him to remember to relocate to Taeil’s bedroom, but that still meant that Jaehyo had had to sneak back to his own before any of the others woke up and even then, Jiho and Kyung weren’t particularly sympathetic in the looks they shot him across the suite as they all prepared to go about their business for today.
Jiho is the one who brought Jihoon into the business in the first place and retains a soft spot for the younger man far past the days when Jihoon was still learning the ropes. Kyung, because he loves Jiho, loves Jihoon by default. Jiho and Kyung, because Jihoon loves Taeil, by default aren’t too happy with Taeil as of late. And Jaehyo supposes that, also by default, because Jaehyo is the only one who Taeil has occasional no-strings-attached sex with every now and again aside from Jihoon (whom Taeil has much more regular no-strings-attached sex with), Jiho and Kyung aren’t too happy with him either.
Jaehyo knows he should’ve said no-should’ve literally walked away last night instead of the half-assed dissuasion attempt that really wasn’t even an attempt. He and Taeil are never going to work and he’s over and okay with that. Taeil and Jihoon though Jaehyo feels could actually work and having sex with Taeil last night helped no one. It’s just-he can’t help how he feels-and even though there’s no love-nothing lasting and strong like Jihoon might have in store for Taeil, Jaehyo will never stop loving Taeil.
Jihoon has known Taeil for two years but Jaehyo has known Taeil for ten. The love Jaehyo has for Taeil isn’t strong enough for Jaehyo to give up what he has and what he wants other than Taeil, but it’s strong enough for Jaehyo to let Taeil go if Jihoon will be what Taeil should really have. His love isn’t, however, strong enough to help Jihoon.
Lee Taeil only comes kicking and scratching and Jaehyo has already gotten his fair share of scars. If Jihoon wants Taeil, then it’s only fair the younger man does the same (and if Jaehyo has popcorn and a front row seat, there is nothing wrong with that).
Yongguk was in prison for four years, and during the last three, Himchan learned to live without him. He’s learned to live without missing him-without feeling like there’s something that will always be missing-a limb, an organ, an emotion. A week or so without Yongguk feels like nothing in comparison to the few months it took for Himchan to wean himself off of Yongguk between that first year and the second. So he doesn’t know how to explain to himself the feeling of utter relief he feels as he watches Yongguk jump out of the front of one of the construction trucks.
Himchan compartmentalizes the surge of emotion off as unnecessary-pathetic.
Residue that he’ll manage to wipe away like everything else sooner or later.
But as Yongguk comes closer, it feels like sooner will have to be later because absolutely nothing prepares Himchan for the way his stomach drops to his feet when he sees that Yongguk is still thinner than Bang Yongguk is supposed to be. He clearly hasn’t been sleeping either. Himchan was willing to overlook the weight loss and the red eyes when Yongguk had first walked out of those horrifically gray, cement halls. The man just came out of prison. It’d be absurd if he didn’t look like a gaunt insomniac.
It’s been nearly three weeks since then.
Yongguk doesn’t even seem to have gained an ounce.
Jaehyo’s hand comes down briskly on Himchan’s shoulder. “Where should I tell them to go?” he asks, jerking his head back at the workers. “Unload here?”
“Yeah,” Himchan licks his lips. He clears his throat. “They can bring one of the trucks to the back-there’ll be a door there and it leads right to where Jihoon and I marked the floor-he’ll be in there to tell them where to go.”
Jaehyo gives a short nod, waving over to the drivers of the trucks. The backer points them towards the other end of the warehouse, directing them over to where Jihoon is waiting near the open garage doors. Himchan waits until he’s followed in that same direction-waits until Jiho, Kyung, Youngjae, and Daehyun have started to file into the warehouse as well (and he hears Jihoon reuniting with boisterous shouts with Jiho). He wants to wait until Jongup goes in as well, but that’s just cruel, wishful thinking.
Yongguk is idly lingering in the dry lot in front of the warehouse opening.
Himchan paints an even smile on his face as Jongup approaches him with a single-armed hug-brief but tight. “Hey, kid,” he says, and inhales deeply against Jongup’s neck. It’ll never not be horrible of him, but Himchan will never be able to help it. There’s something about Jongup that slows Himchan’s heartbeat into something solid and steady. There’s something about Jongup that’s solid and steady-stable and unmoving and comforting. Jongup will never be enough, but Himchan has no doubts that without the boy, Himchan would never have survived that second year.
Without Jongup, Himchan would’ve never found the resolve to go on alone and live through the third and fourth years.
“Careful, hyung,” Jongup pulls away first, hesitant amusement in his eyes. “You’ll make me think that you missed me.”
Himchan tugs an arm around the boy’s shoulders and laughs into his ear. “You’d think right.”
And he knows he’s being cruel-he knows he shouldn’t-he knows.
But even now, he still does love Jongup.
(it’s just not enough but Himchan wishes it was because if only he could be in love with Jongup-wouldn’t everything be easier then?)
“Hyung,” Jongup laughs, even as he rolls his eyes. He flashes a last, small smile and then Himchan pats him off on his way into the warehouse. Once he’s clear out of earshot, Yongguk steps forward and his eyes flicker from Jongup’s retreating back to Himchan’s face.
“How is he?” Himchan asks, sliding his hands into his pockets and regarding his partner.
Yongguk shrugs. “Good,” his eyebrows rise. “Really good. Jiho and Kyung tell me he’s still a little emotional sometimes-but we can work that out. He’ll get better.” He grins slightly, head tilted towards Himchan. “Trained him pretty well, huh?”
“He’s not a puppy, Yongguk-ah,” Himchan says, and he doesn’t know why he’s bristling defensively because it’s a fair observation. It’s the way things work-Himchan did train Jongup, the same way he trained Daehyun and, partially, Yukwon.
“Never said he was,” Yongguk sounds confused. “I just-you did a good job on him. He’s good.”
“Not as good as your lapdog, though, right?”
And oh-oh-Himchan regrets those words the moment they leave his lips because that’s completely unwarranted and he doesn’t even understand where it comes from. Junhong has nothing to do with this and Himchan thinks he likes Junhong, and this is completely and utterly uncalled for but he said it and-
Yongguk’s face darkens-hardens. “This is the first time I’m working with Junhong and you know it.” His eyes narrow. “But it’s not the first time you’ve worked with Jongup, is it?”
For all Himchan cares-for all Himchan doesn’t care-Yongguk can starve to death, can never sleep another moment in his life, can have nightmare after nightmare, can waste away into nothing during this job. Himchan doesn’t care. Himchan is too far past furious and frustrated to care (and betrayed and hurt and devastated) because he’s learned that there’s no point in caring about someone who would throw everything away to save Himchan when that’s hardly saving Himchan at all.
He’s not interested in loving a man who won’t even lie to keep Himchan sane.
(why did you tell me the truth when I didn’t want it)
There’s such thing as etiquette among thieves. It can generally be foregone when the crew you work with are friends as well as colleagues, but that usually takes more than two jobs and Junhong doesn’t have that kind of leisure right now. He doesn’t have much of a mind to go by the book in how he confronts any of the others because he’s learned that in the underground world, the hierarchy is based less on age and more on skill. And his own personal logic is if he’s good enough for them to recruit him, for them to clearly have some need of his skill set, then he’s good enough to demand any sort of information he personally deems necessary to get by during the job.
That includes knowing what the fuck is going on with the two leaders of this entire godforsaken operation.
His assignment is to snoop around Dongsun. His assignment isn’t to snoop around his own crewmates in order to find information that he should’ve been given in a neat manila folder from the beginning. He doesn’t have the time nor is he willing to waste the energy that it’s going to take to find things out without any of them knowing he knows. He also thinks it’s ridiculous that he should have to sneak around to know general knowledge. He doesn’t even particularly care that it might be personal history. If he, with all his training on reading people and gathering minute detail, thinks that it has the possibility of compromising the job, then personal history is now obligated to become common knowledge.
“Tell me or I leave,” is all he decides Minhyuk needs to hear.
Yukwon and Taeil are going over footage of Dongsun in another room, and conveniently, everyone else is at the warehouse for the start of construction. Junhong waited until Dongsun went for a briefing on the casino’s finances for the week before he slipped up and cornered Minhyuk in his and Yukwon’s bedroom. Minhyuk silently finishes slipping his feet into his shoes, leans forward with his elbows resting on his thighs and looks up at Junhong with steady eyes. “Tell you what?” he asks evenly.
“I’ll leave,” Junhong says, because he will. He really will.
He’s in on this job not because of Yongguk’s personal visit, offering him a ticket to Vegas after impressing him by interfering on his lift. He’s not in on this job because he admires any of the big names that are in this assembly (and they are big names-huge names-celebrities amongst thieves). He’s in on this job only because Hyosung had convinced him that he’ll thank her one day for recommending him to Yongguk. She was adamant that he take this job so he did. Her advice never fails him and she was the one who trained him.
But he’s not going to go to prison for thieves he hardly knows.
He’s here for the money and he’s here to win. He’s not here to be compromised because reported professionals are losing their touch and being explicitly unprofessional. Leave emotion at the door. It’s the easiest and most basic first rule of being a thief and from what Junhong’s seen of Yongguk (the man is losing weight and sleep by the second), whatever emotion remained from being in prison for four years clearly hasn’t resolved itself in time to do a con so soon. He doesn’t understand why Yongguk insists on doing a con this absurd so soon after he came out anyway.
It’s stupid.
Minhyuk nods at the loveseat against the wall. Junhong sits. “I can only tell you what I know,” Minhyuk says, hands folded tightly. “And I don’t know everything.”
“But you know why Yukwon-shii lapsed in that bathroom audio with Dongsun,” Junhong states and watches the color leave Minhyuk’s face despite how the other thief’s expression remains carefully blank. “And you’ll tell me. Or I’ll leave.”
“It-”
“I know it’s all connected. Don’t bullshit me that it’s not.”
Minhyuk stands, and suddenly his face isn’t so expressionless. Suddenly, somehow, Junhong feels like Minhyuk is towering over him in spite of the obvious few inches Junhong has on the other man. “I’m not going to deny that we need you,” Minhyuk says in a low, terse voice, “and I’m not going to deny that you have a right to know. But this part of the story isn’t mine to tell-it’s Yukwon’s. I have to tell you anyway because you came to me. I’m obligated to tell you to keep you here, but you’re obligated not to look at Yukwon differently, not to think of him differently, not to ask him any questions, not to think any less of him.”
Junhong’s fingers curl into fists. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good,” and it’s a dark whisper out of Minhyuk’s lips. “Because if you do, I can promise you that you’ll be begging to die. Death will be a kindness.”
There’s fear. Junhong is scared, but the fear isn’t crippling. Far greater, far more prevalent in his mind than the fear is the sudden realization that he really doesn’t have to worry about Minhyuk if they’re compromised because Minhyuk will have taken Yukwon and boarded the first plane to the other side of the world. He wonders if Minhyuk knows that he’s just given Junhong more relief than threats. While Junhong doesn’t doubt that Minhyuk could and would very easily kill Junhong or anyone that’s a danger to Yukwon, Minhyuk won’t. He’d rather cart Yukwon off to safety before hurting anyone that endangers Yukwon.
If Yongguk or Himchan compromise the job, Minhyuk is going to turn from friend to foe in the time it takes to blink.
Junhong settles into the loveseat and waits until Minhyuk’s lost the darkness in his eyes-waits until he’s sat back down on the edge of the bed. “You’ll kill me,” Junhong says calmly. “I get it. So tell me-take it from the top.”
Minhyuk licks his lips. “Himchan and Dongsun,” he begins quietly, “used to be partners.”
When Yongguk walked out of prison, he’d felt invincible. The moment the sunlight hit him, the moment he’d shrugged off the orange jumpsuit, the moment he’d walked through that door, he’d felt perfect. He felt like him again for the first time in four years. It was everything he thought it would feel like during that period of darkness. It had been bright and ideal for all of that first minute he spent as a free man. There had even been a lack of pain when he’d laid eyes on Himchan for the first time in four years.
And then it ended.
Because the crushing, crippling reality is that Yongguk doesn’t know how to do this anymore. It’s like everything he’s doing now-it’s like living, freedom-is all based off of muscle memory and whenever he stops long enough to think, everything flies out the window. He loses control and the only way to stop that is to keep busy-to work every moment he’s awake because otherwise his grip goes slack and everything is shot. Sleeping is shot for him-every attempt has been so unsuccessful that he’s decided to forego it as much as possible.
He’ll sleep when others are watching-feign it, at the very least-but otherwise, it’s four cups of espresso and the latest information they’ve scouted on Dongsun.
Food doesn’t seem to stay down either, whenever Yongguk can muster up an appetite to stomach it in the first place. And that, he thinks, is the bigger problem. He can hide bloodshot eyes to a certain degree, but there’s no hiding the fact that he isn’t regaining the weight he should. Looks don’t make the man, but they definitely make the thief. They especially make the thief who’s skill set lies in impressing people into giving away precious details about priceless valuables.
A shadow of a man underweight by at least twenty pounds isn’t going to get shit.
He hates mirrors.
He thinks maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much to look at his reflection now if he didn’t have such a clear memory of what his reflection before. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much to see darkness cupping his eyes, red cobwebs against the white, defeat clear and present in the gaze, if he didn’t clearly remember how there once was confidence bordering on admired arrogance in those same eyes-always well-rested, proud and knowing, easy and playful, bright and wicked. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see how clothes hang loose and ill on his frame if he didn’t so clearly remember how everything he wore always used to fit him like a glove-how he turned heads so that marks came to him practically begging for him to steal their pockets empty.
And maybe, even the restless nights spent tossing and turning wouldn’t be so unendurable if he didn’t so perfectly remember the warm, familiar body that always used to sleep beside him. If maybe those familiar eyes would even spare a glance across the warehouse at his direction, then maybe everything would be just that much more endurable. The simmering anger is tangible every time they speak to each other, every time Yongguk even approaches Himchan.
Yongguk doesn’t blame him and he can’t regret it. He doesn’t. But even if he wanted to take it all back, it’s too late. He’s already laid out every card he has-he’s shown Himchan all there is to see and now there’s nothing left. There’s no hope in winning Himchan back with this con-all this job could possibly be used for is to gain Himchan’s trust back. That’s all Yongguk could ever even dream of doing, and in the end, Yongguk feels like that’s all it’ll ever be.
A dream.
When Himchan asks Youngjae to head up to the half-level and grab the packet of plans on Jihoon’s nightstand, Daehyun follows. Youngjae hears him follow, discreetly and silently, and Youngjae makes sure not to look over his shoulder until they have both climbed the ladder and drawn the curtains to hide them from view of the floor below. Daehyun’s hands are cover his eyes and Youngjae whirls around at him. “What’re we going to do?” he whispers-hisses-and he hates how frantic he sounds.
Daehyun lowers his hands until they’re formed into a prayer, clasped in front of his full lips as his eyes drift away into thought. “I don’t know,” he whispers back, pacing. “They both think they’re okay. I think-Himchan-hyung really thinks he’s okay, but Yongguk-hyung knows he’s not. Himchan-hyung knows Yongguk-hyung’s not okay but Yongguk-hyung thinks Himchan-hyung doesn’t give a fuck about him anymore and-”
“What happened?” Youngjae sits down on the bed and rubs a hand over his face.
Daehyun shakes his head and closes his eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, walking around the two beds and searching the scattered tables for the packet of plans they’re supposed to be getting. “You know them. They’re not going to let us do anything. Our job is just to make sure nothing goes wrong so that at least they’ll be okay enough to solve things on their own. I mean-they’re still partners. They made that clear.”
Their eyes meet and Youngjae swallows.
Partners.
He thought that the worst was finding out Yongguk was in prison-that just watching Himchan disappear off the face of the earth (whether from devastation or a sorrow too great) was already the worst that they could face. All of that had already terrified Youngjae. It was already terrifying to watch the kind of pain both of them went through just being separated and now there was another kind of pain. They could be together again-Yongguk is out, Yongguk is free, but instead of reuniting, they’re ripping each other apart as if it was four years ago all over.
What if what destroyed them destroyed him and Daehyun?
“What do I do?” Youngjae asks quietly. At the end of today, Daehyun is heading back but Youngjae is staying at the warehouse for the rest of construction.
“Yongguk-hyung,” Daehyun says immediately, voice tight. “Right now, he’s worse off than Himchan-hyung. Just-I don’t-I guess-make sure he sleeps. And eats. He’s more important than Himchan-hyung right now-he’s falling apart.”
Youngjae takes the packet of plans into his arms. “I mean,” he says, meeting Daehyun’s eyes again. “They both are.”
They can’t show anything in front of the others.
In front of the others, Himchan smiles at Yongguk-grins and works with him and teases him as if they were on just another job five years ago. It’s a bitter parody of how things used to be but it is what it needs to be. Yongguk plays along with the charade and, in the back of his own mind, Himchan knows that they aren’t really fooling anyone. There’s something too obviously wrong with this entire picture but the moment they stop pretending is the moment that everyone will think they can now ask questions as to what the hell happened four years ago.
It’s a story Himchan doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to tell.
And when Yongguk is smoothing out a set of plans onto one of the tables and Himchan reaches out, fingers brushing over Yongguk’s wrist before landing on the paper because Himchan was looking in the other direction-when Himchan feels the bones protruding against the skin because there just isn’t enough flesh anymore-when Himchan feels strung-up tension just through a touch-when it becomes painfully clear that Yongguk hasn’t even begun to recover (sleeping, eating, healing-none of it?)-
Nothing.
None of it means anything.
All it means is that Himchan needs to clear out the rest of the feelings that insist on clinging to him like a disease. Yongguk can take care of himself. Yongguk chose to go to prison, and these are the repercussions (and Himchan knew this would happen-he knew this would happen and he knew that Yongguk knew so why would Yongguk choose to go in Himchan’s place-why couldn’t he have just let Himchan go because at least then it wouldn’t have been a choice-it wouldn’t have been a sacrifice-it never had to be a sacrifice and Himchan never asked-)
“Hyung.”
Himchan bites the inside of his cheek hard-pain rooting him back to reality-and raises his eyebrows at Jihoon. The ones who’re to go back are loading their things up into one of the cars, while the ones who’re staying are outside of the warehouse seeing them off. Only Jihoon is left, and he looks like he’s been sent. “Yeah?”
“Jaehyo-hyung asked if he needs to order any more workers to be sent over,” the younger man says. “Minhyuk-hyung called and said that they need him over at the hotel so he’s not going to be staying.”
Himchan casts a quick eye at the plans in front of him. “No,” he says in a measured tone. “I think we’re good to go.”
“Okay,” Jihoon flashes him a brisk grin. “See you later, then.” He gives Himchan a short salute, turning on his heel and making for the warehouse doors, but for some reason Himchan just can’t leave it at that. It’s only been a little over a week, and Himchan has put up all necessary guards whenever confronting Jihoon about anything that isn’t the job, but Himchan can’t deny the obvious. He likes Jihoon. He likes Jihoon past what the kid can do.
“Jihoon-ah,” he calls out.
The forger stops mid-step. Turns his head with quizzically raised eyebrows.
Himchan smiles hesitantly. “Lee Taeil never does things without a reason,” he offers. “Find out what the reason is.”
Something unreadable crosses through Jihoon’s eyes and Himchan doesn’t even have a prayer of deciphering it because he really doesn’t know Pyo Jihoon that well at all. But he knows enough to know that he loves Lee Taeil with every ounce of his giant heart the way only a young thief can (and Himchan closes that way because the parallels hurt too much to think about-because maybe if Himchan could stop loving his partner the way Taeil stopped loving Jaehyo, then maybe Himchan could have the same hope Taeil does in starting over with a thief who hasn’t been so tainted with history).
“Thanks,” Jihoon says and it’s barely audible but Himchan hears loud and clear.
Himchan just gives another smile. “Good luck, kid.”
Yukwon will never understand how Taeil manages to stay awake on surveillance watch for hours on end-or, even more impressively, how Taeil manages to rewatch all of the videos, go through all of the audio, a second and third time to pause and slow down or differentiate pitches for briefings with the rest of the crew. It’s rather admirable especially when the mark being surveyed nearly twenty-four hours of every day is Hwang Dongsun. Yukwon is already narrowing his eyes and he’s only been at Taeil’s side, reviewing the videos, for all of ten minutes.
Taeil adjusts the volume on their headsets slightly. “You really hate him,” he states noncommittally.
“You don’t?” Yukwon leans back in his seat, stretching his arms up above his head and tilting his gaze towards the older man.
Taeil shrugs. “He’s a bastard. Like any other mark.”
Yukwon smiles. “So is that a yes or no, hyung?”
The other man levels Yukwon with a knowing gaze. “Just don’t let your personal vendettas compromise anything, Kim Yukwon. Even Minhyuk looks like he’s scared of you these days.”
And that, therein, is particularly absurd to Yukwon. He thinks it’s positively hilarious that nearly everyone thinks he’s the one who’s going to burst into a fit of rage and lose them this job during a crucial moment when he’s not the one who was ever in love with a man who can hardly even be called human-with someone who has no qualms about using a seventeen-year-old boy as his personal blowup doll for all of four years-with someone who didn’t seem to have any hesitation about betraying his partner (his lover) to years in prison in turn for his own safety and wealth.
“But Himchan-hyung is all set to go, right?” Yukwon counters coolly. “No one’s worried about him screwing up. He’s perfectly in control.”
Taeil’s expression is weary and wary as he meets Yukwon’s eyes. “He’s not the one in close contact with Dongsun on this job.”
Yukwon pauses the video, zooming in on the unfamiliar set of doors Dongsun is going into. “If you ask me,” he says calmly, “he should be. We need to ruffle Dongsun’s feathers, and since me and Minhyuk-hyung clearly aren’t doing that, maybe Himchan-hyung could.” He writes down the numbers, locations, and appearance details of the door so he can look it up later tonight in person. It looks promising (like maybe-the doors to the security room overlooking the vault).
As Taeil presses play and starts the video up again, Yukwon catches the idea taking root in the other thief’s mind. It’s a good start, he thinks, because while Yukwon’s suggestions will be taken as brash and fueled with emotion, Taeil’s suggestions will doubtlessly be taken as only for the good of the con.
Yukwon smiles.