fic: A Hundred and One little Complications, Chapter 2
Title: A Hundred and One Little Complications, Chapter 2
Length: chaptered
Author: M_K Yujji
Rating: pg-13 (rating subject to increase in later chapters)
Genre: AU
Pairing/Characters: Doojoon, Gikwang, Yoseob, ofc of the child type (brief appearances by some surprise guests)
Warnings: RPS
Disclaimer: Though real people are used as characters, this fic bears no resemblance to Real Life and these people are not owned by me.
Comments/Notes: Partially inspired by snb123's spy prompt and this picture. ^_^
Originally I wasn't going to use any honorifics or in any way specifiy for certain where this fic takes place. Unfortunately, I ran into the problem of terminology. Things like 'ahjussi' and 'oppa', don't really have a generic English equivalent. And the 'Mr.' started getting very jarring.
Also, it hadn't occurred to me until my beta questioned some of Cheon's actions and dialogue in this chapter, but most of you probably don't have children. :x I have two. Trust me, I'm an expert on the many befuddling things little girls say and do. Between my daughter and all of her little friends, I've had quite the wide range of case studies to draw from.
Previously: Chapter 1
Summary: Doojoon is a gay reporter with too many enemies in too many places, the divorced father of a beautiful little girl. Gikwang is his deceased ex-wife’s last husband and the closest thing he has to family since his blood relatives disowned him. When an assassination attempt almost kills them all, Gikwang calls in a favor.
As if Doojoon's life isn't already complicated enough...
~*~*~
At six on the dot, the doorbell rang.
Doojoon glanced up from where he was trying to stuff all of the dirty clothes he hadn’t gotten around to doing over the last few weeks into his small laundry room.
“Gikwang?”
The doorbell rang again and Doojoon sighed and forced the door closed after shoving a few stray socks back in with his foot. As he passed through the living room, he shook his head at Gikwang and Cheon where they were sprawled out on the floor coloring together, headphones stuck in their ears.
The younger man startled slightly when Doojoon poked him in the side with a foot. “What? Oh… is it six?”
Doojoon just snorted and moved on to get the door.
He’d barely gotten it all the way open before his pretend lover’s small form bounced into his arms and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. Doojoon’s arms went around Yoseob’s waist automatically as if that was where they belonged. As if he’d held Yoseob a thousand times instead of just twice.
The garishly bright t-shirt made him blink and double take slightly. A little color and bangs instead of spikes should not have made such a difference, but the small changes made Yoseob look even younger than he had the first time Doojoon had met him. The smile only added to the impression.
Yoseob’s smile grew at Doojoon’s attentiveness. He curled closer and practically purred. “Did you miss me?”
Whatever smart remark he’d been about to make died on his tongue as Doojoon noticed the two men hovering behind Yoseob, looking sheepish and vaguely confused as they shifted the bags they were carrying. “Um… Yoseobie?”
Yoseob made a questioning sound and then glanced behind at the two men. “Oh yeah! Thanks so much guys!”
He let go of Doojoon and beamed at them as he took one of the bags - the smallest, Doojoon noted - and gestured for them to follow him.
“Umm…” The tallest of the pair glanced down at his companion with a helpless look, then over at Doojoon with a shrug, before following Yoseob obediently. The other shook his head with a bemused expression as he trailed along after them.
The blonde led them unerringly to Doojoon’s bedroom, all three disappearing for a moment.
“What the hell?” Doojoon muttered, sharing a confused and concerned look with Gikwang. He’d only seen them from a distance, so there was a chance he was wrong, but he was almost certain the two men were the same ones that had been following him that morning. The suits matched and the shorter one had even had sunglasses perched atop his head.
Gikwang just shrugged and shifted slightly so that he was closer to Cheon.
From the bedroom, he could hear Yoseob’s voice - loud and perky and not at all in keeping with the man he’d met that morning, though Doojoon supposed it worked better for his cover story - and the occasional responses from the other two.
It only took a few more minutes before they were all back in the living room, Yoseob dropping down beside Cheon with an oddly shaped but brightly wrapped present. He presented it to her with a flourish and a hopeful smile. “I brought you something.”
The little girl glanced up at her father for confirmation that it was okay. At his slight nod, she beamed at Yoseob and ripped the paper off to unveil a stuffed pony with yellow fur and a white mane and tail.
She loosed a happy squeal and clamored awkwardly to her feet to throw both arms around Yoseob’s neck. Doojoon could hear the thunk of the cast meeting the back of the man’s skull from where he stood. Both strangers winced in sympathy and even Doojoon was tempted to scold her to be more careful - both for herself and also for Yoseob - but Yoseob just smiled and hugged her back. “It’s not as pretty as your pictures, of course, but I thought maybe it was close?”
“Thank you!”
Once Cheon let go of him and turned her attention on her new toy, Yoseob rose and turned back to the men who’d brought his bags up. He thanked them sweetly and let them out of the condo with a wave and a promise to have them over for dinner some night.
Through it all, Doojoon stood exactly where he was, a little unsure at what had just happened. All he could do was stare at Gikwang’s friend. It was amazing how much the bright smile and almost radiant happiness changed the man. It was kind of creepy.
Once the door was firmly closed behind the strangers, Yoseob’s expression morphed back into something more familiar. His mouth pursed in thought as he stared at the door, then he arched a brow when he turned to find Doojoon still staring at him. Rather than say anything, he just rolled his eyes and shook his head before fishing out a cellphone. Whoever he called answered immediately. “Hey, yeah, Lee Donghae and Choi Siwon. Nah. Check military records. Police, maybe. No way in hell there’s a criminal record for either of them. Yeah. All right. Let me know.”
By the time he’d hung up, Doojoon’s powers of speech had returned and he scowled. “I thought you were supposed to be protecting us, not bringing the enemy right inside my home.”
Yoseob’s lip curled slightly, but he just rolled his eyes again. “They’re not a danger to you. If anything, they’ll be an added layer of protection now that they’re all ‘awww’ over Cheon.”
“And you,” Gikwang chimed in from where he’d rolled to sit cross-legged on the floor. He was grinning at Yoseob, completely unperturbed by the intrusion. It wasn’t his home, after all. His was a different condo in the building, still safely anonymous. “You left quite an impression on them, Seobie.”
Doojoon’s scowl deepened as Yoseob smirked and made a lazy gesture with his hand. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”
“Hardly,” Doojoon muttered under his breath.
Before he could say anything else, some foreign rock tune he didn’t recognize came whirring out of Yoseob’s pocket. He answered it easily, moving away from Doojoon and heading back towards the bedroom as he listened to whoever was on the other line. All Doojoon could here were muttered acknowledgments to whatever was being said as he followed the younger man.
His bags were nestled at the foot of Doojoon’s bed except a smaller one he could see sitting on the toilet through the open doorway of his bathroom.
Yoseob unzipped one of the bags and began laying things out across Doojoon’s bed. He tucked the phone into the crook of his shoulder, his head tilted severely so that he could continue listening. “Yeah, all right. You’ll be the first to know. Okay. Bye.” Yoseob snapped the cellphone shut and focused on Doojoon in the doorway. “I don’t suppose you made some space for my clothes?”
Doojoon arched a brow, but then just sighed and moved to clear out a couple of the drawers in his dresser. Most of his clothes hung in the closet. Half of his dresser was being used for random storage. It was easy enough to consolidate them into one.
“So messy,” Yoseob murmured behind him.
“And I suppose you’re a paragon of cleanliness?” Doojoon grumbled. It seemed like someone was always nagging him about his cleaning habits - first his mother, then his ex-wife… Even Gikwang did it from time to time, usually when he couldn’t find something for Cheon that Doojoon had shoved under something else to keep from having to pick it up.
The blonde actually laughed. “Dude, military. It’s kind of mandatory.”
Curiosity had Doojoon opening his mouth before he could consider the wisdom of questioning someone like Yoseob. “Are you still in?”
“Nah,” Yoseob answered easily enough. “I mean, I do the odd job for the government occasionally, but I wasn’t really cut out for a lifetime of following someone else’s orders blindly. I got out not too long after Kwangie.”
Doojoon glanced back in the direction of the living room before moving closer and letting his voice drop. “Gikwang’s never really talked about it…”
This time Yoseob hesitated before shrugging. “Sometimes a soldier is forced to do things he doesn’t want to think about after.” Dark eyes considered him for a moment before shrugging again. “And really, he’s doing you a favor. You don’t really want to know.”
That only made the reporter in him itch to dig deeper, but the line of Yoseob’s shoulders had gone tense and there was a bullish tilt to his mouth that said pushing was going to make him clam up entirely.
Instead he turned the conversation back to more neutral ground. “So, those guys….”
“Umhm… They were downstairs when I got out of the cab. Perfect opportunity.” Yoseob replied as he easily transferred his clothing into the drawers Doojoon had cleared out, each article placed carefully and neatly. They were even ordered by color and… Doojoon made a face. His socks were folded.
Neat freak.
Once the first bag was empty, Yoseob turned his attention to the second. Some of the equipment he pulled out of it were things Doojoon recognized, others he could only guess at. It all got sorted and moved aside.
Before he could ask questions about what Yoseob was going to do with any of it, Gikwang stuck his head into the bedroom. Cheon was perched comfortably against his hip, her good arm around his neck while the other was tucked between them. “Umm… Doojoon? Cheon is hungry. Are we doing dinner any time soon?”
“Oh…” Doojoon sighed and ran a hand over the back of his neck. He’d completely forgotten about dinner between the rush to try to clean up the worst of the condo and then Yoseob showing up. “Yeah, sorry.”
He hesitated and glanced over at their company. Yoseob had stopped and was looking back at him with a placid expression. Even though he hadn’t really wanted Yoseob to be there, the man was still a guest. “Was there anything in particular you wanted?”
Yoseob shrugged. “Whatever you have is fine.”
Laughing, Doojoon headed out of the bedroom shaking his head. “What we have… Jeez… you make it sound like we actually cook around here. What we have are a few dozen take out menus. So really… Any preference at all?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Um.. No?” Doojoon hesitated at the kitchen door for a moment as the others followed him. He hadn’t quite gotten around to cleaning up the kitchen. Then he made a face and turned to fetch out his stack of menus from the drawer near the door. If Yoseob was there for any length of time, he was bound to realize that Doojoon sucked at housework.
Gikwang picked at the clutter occasionally, but as long as Cheon was clean and fed, he mostly left well enough alone.
“Oh my god….” Yoseob was peering over his shoulder, a look of fascinated horror on his face as he took in the take out boxes scattered around the counter and the general clutter of the kitchen and dining room area. Stacks of newspapers spilled over the table that Doojoon and Cheon never used and three recycling crates overflowed with juice bottles and soda cans.
To be fair, neither space had seen much use since Doojoon’s divorce. Gina had been the one who wanted quality family time over the dinner table. He’d never seen much need in anything more than food on the couch while they watched television. It had driven her crazy, especially whenever he pointed out that it wasn’t like she was actually cooking anything. He supposed it had been one of the initial signs that it wasn’t going to work between them no matter how willing he’d been to ignore his preferences.
Yoseob slipped around Doojoon and headed for the refrigerator.
Doojoon rolled his eyes at the exaggerated hesitation the smaller man showed before opening it. He was reasonably sure there wasn’t anything alive in there.
He paused to consider it for a moment then shrugged. Ninety five percent certain, at least.
“At least you have milk,” Yoseob muttered, leaning down to examine the cartons. “They’re not even too far out of date. Dude,” he glanced up. “Even I know that you have to feed your kid more than take out and milk.”
“She gets three balanced meals a day,” Doojoon responded defensively. It wasn’t the first time someone had called him to task about the state of his kitchen. He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that Yoseob was probably the least qualified to give him parenting advice. “I just haven’t gone shopping this week.”
Usually he tried to keep a few easy and more or less healthy snack options on hand in case Cheon got hungry when all the restaurants were closed and Gikwang was asleep.
“Riiight…” The look on Yoseob’s face was dubious.
Gikwang very kindly did not point out that he’d been expressing those same doubts for years, though he did occupy himself with dusting imaginary dirt off of Cheon’s t-shirt.
“Oh shut up,” Doojoon muttered. Pointedly ignoring both men, he held up a fanned out option of take out menus to Cheon. “What do you want for dinner, sweetheart?”
Giggling at them all, Cheon tugged one out of the stack. “Pizza!”
He groaned and buried his face in the paper for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. He ruffled her hair. “You’re going to have Yoseobie believing that I really don’t feed you right, you know?”
She just laughed and wiggled out of Gikwang’s arms. She hurried off to get the phone. The pizzeria down the street was one of the few places where he’d let her do the ordering herself. They both liked the same toppings and they’d ordered there often enough that the old proprietor pretty much knew exactly what to send and where to send it as soon as he heard her voice.
Yoseob and Gikwang were both watching him with varying degrees of disapproval and disbelief.
“Daddy! Park-sshi wants to know if we want one or two pizzas cuz of Papa and Yoyo! I don’t want Papa’s yucky onions on mine!”
The startled silence held for a moment before Yoseob’s expression dissolved into hilarity and he doubled over in honest to god genuine giggles.
Doojoon rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, leaving Gikwang to deal with his friend while he went to rescue Park-sshi from the influx of TMI that was a seven year old girl.
By the time he was done ordering - three pizzas of varying toppings - Yoseob and Gikwang had joined them in the family room. Yoseob settled onto the floor, idly picking up a coloring book and flipping around for a clear page. He was still grinning and tiny little huffs of amusement escaped whenever he happened to glance over at Cheon.
Gikwang flopped onto the couch near Doojoon and just shrugged, vaguely apologetic.
“She can’t call you that,” Doojoon said, finally with a sigh.
Shrugging, Yoseob glanced up. “I’ve been called worse.”
“It’s not respectful. I’m having a hard enough time keeping her using properly polite speech with her elders.” Cheon’s etiquette was another victim of Gikwang’s foreign movies. He wouldn’t care as much if her teachers weren’t sending him notes every other week about her disrespectful way of speaking. At least they also complimented her higher than average intelligence and bilingual skills.
Yoseob sighed. “What exactly would you rather she called me? Yang-sshi? Yoseob-sshi? Oppa?”
“Ahjusshi.”
“Right. Because it won’t look the least bit suspicious that my boyfriend’s daughter is calling me ahjusshi.”
Biting his lip, Doojoon shook his head. “Uncle Yoseob.”
“Uncle Yoyo?” Cheon interjected, a curious look on her face.
He forgot sometimes that she was getting old enough to actually take an interest in the conversations he had over her head.
“The lady has spoken.” Yoseob smirked at Doojoon and saluted Cheon. “Uncle Yoyo it is.”
The door buzzer interrupted anything Doojoon might have said to the contrary and he decided to just let it lie. He had plenty of arguments still brewing on his tongue, but none of them were appropriate for little ears. Especially not little ears with a big mouth attached.
Over pizza and soda - juice for Cheon - they kept the conversation on light topics and eventually Doojoon flipped on the television. There was some good natured bickering over what to watch. Cheon wanted cartoons while Gikwang voted for the latest drama drivel he’d been watching lately. Yoseob expressed no opinion, just shrugging when they put the question to him.
Doojoon chose the soccer game, ignoring the whining protests of the rest of his family. He had the remote, after all.
Yoseob watched the proceedings with hooded eyes and Doojoon wondered at it.
Did Yoseob even own television?
Did he and Yunja ever fight over what to watch?
What did ex-soldiers turned possible mercenary and bodyguard actually do to unwind at the end of a hard day?
Doojoon wasn’t sure he actually wanted to know the answer to that.
Luckily, the questions fell away as he got absorbed by the game. He’d always loved the sport. Sometimes he liked to imagine that if he hadn’t gone into journalism, he’d have played soccer professionally.
Just after halftime, Cheon slumped bonelessly against him, worn out from the long day and groggy from a full stomach and her medication.
Gikwang laughed softly and scooped her up. “She can sleep at my place tonight. Let you guys get settled in and get everything sorted out without having to worry about her.”
Doojoon had to stifle his instinctive protest. Gikwang’s condo was just down the hall and Cheon had been switching back and forth between them since the day her mother had moved in with the younger man - long before he’d officially become her stepfather. Gikwang couldn’t have loved Cheon more if she’d been his by blood and Doojoon knew that. As painful as it had been taking a step back from the family life he’d carved out for himself, he’d been happy with Gina’s choice.
And when she’d died, Doojoon had promised to continue their shared custody.
This clinginess, Doojoon knew, was just a byproduct of the close call and the looming threat. He’d get over it eventually and there was no reason why she couldn’t stay the night in her bedroom at Gikwang’s.
Besides, there were definitely a few things he and Yoseob needed to work out before anything went any further.
“Yeah, all right. Thanks, man.”
“You don’t have to work tomorrow, right, Kwangie?” Yoseob had been quiet long enough that his voice startled Doojoon slightly.
Gikwang paused, nodding uncertainly. “It’s Sunday. The gym is closed.”
He’d worked as a personal trainer at the same gym for as long as Doojoon had known him. It was how they’d met, in fact. Gikwang had saved Doojoon from literally being crushed by his pride one day when someone had challenged him into free lifting far more than he could actually handle. His spotter had been even less suited for the weight and only Gikwang’s timely intervention had prevented Doojoon from having a very, very bad day.
“And you?” Yoseob asked, glancing at Doojoon.
“My medical leave isn’t up for another week.”
Yoseob nodded with satisfaction as he stood up and began cleaning away the paper plates. “Excellent.”
He didn’t say anything else as he headed towards the kitchen and Doojoon and Gikwang shared a questioning look.
“Seobie?”
The blonde paused in the doorway and glanced back at them. “Tomorrow we are cleaning this place up. I’ll maintain it as long as I’m here, but I refuse to be the only one involved in putting it right the first time. And after that, we’re going grocery shopping. For real food.”
Gikwang snickered slightly, shaking his head. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
He grinned at Doojoon and offered a little wave before letting himself out. Doojoon locked the door after him.
When he turned back around, Yoseob was standing there watching him quietly, hands in his jeans pockets.
“You don’t have to clean or cook while you’re here,” Doojoon said with a soft sigh.
Yoseob just arched a brow. “Your laundry room just tried to eat me when I went to grab a clean towel.”
“I’m… not very good with housework.”
“I noticed.”
Doojoon made a face. “I keep meaning to hire a maid, I just… I hadn’t gotten around to it before and then this whole mess started.”
“I don’t mind,” Yoseob said, shrugging. “Honestly, it gives me a valid excuse to do random sweeps for signs of an intruder. And there’s less chance of someone slipping you poison… or more drugs… if I’m in complete control of the food you eat.”
“…” He hadn’t actually thought of that.
Yoseob quirked a grin and shrugged. “Being paranoid comes with the business.”
He’d been in paranoia overdrive ever since he’d woken up in the hospital after the accident that wasn’t an accident and he still hadn’t considered any of the things Yoseob just took as obvious. It was already too much for him. He couldn’t imagine that kind of mentality. “I couldn’t live like that…”
“That’s why you’re the civilian and I’m not.”
“I thought you said you were out.”
Yoseob shrugged again. “I’m not official military anymore. Doesn’t make me a civie.” His smile was more cynical than amused. “Let’s just say it’s a state of mind.”
Running a hand through his hair, Doojoon sighed. They were getting off topic.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with Cheon treating you like a member of the family. You’re-” He broke off and glanced away. Somehow saying you’re a killer or you’re the hired muscle seemed like a bad idea.
Yoseob’s expression darkened slightly as if he could hear Doojoon’s thoughts, but smoothed out into blank watchfulness a moment later. “What did you think was going to happen, Yoon? To protect you, I have to be where you are. She’s a bright girl, but do you really think it’s feasible to sit her down and explain that someone is trying to kill you, almost killed her, and I’m the guard dog you brought in to deal with it, but hush hush, you can’t let anyone know that or it won’t work?” His voice drew up in a mocking tone as he moved closer. “It’s like a game of pretend, Cheon. Ignore him while he’s here, but pretend he’s daddy’s boyfriend outside where people can see.”
Although Yoseob had a point, Doojoon scowled. “We could have figured something out.”
“It’s done. If you change anything now, she’ll just be confused. At the very least, Lee and Choi will notice.”
Doojoon made a disgruntled sound. “You shouldn’t have brought them up here.”
“I told you. They’re not your attempted killer. Puppies, the both of them.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I can.” Yoseob sighed and Doojoon startled slightly to realize that the smaller man had gotten right up into his personal space, close enough that the rush of air tickled his collarbone. “They’re the kind of guys who join up out of a sense of duty and patriotism, then transfer over into the police force or fire department because they want to help people and their mindset works best with structure and rules. Good guys to have on your side, but they tend to have a limited view on how to deal with problems. They’d probably feel guilty for weeks if they had to kill the bad guys, nevermind the good guys and there is no way in hell they’d consider the collateral damage of Cheon’s broken arm to be worth any target.”
“But-”
A hand covered his mouth and Yoseob shook his head. “I’m the professional here, so you’ll just have to trust me.” He paused, a slightly bitter edge to the smile he gave Doojoon and his voice was subdued. “But that’s the real problem, isn’t it? Trusting me…”
Doojoon hesitated. Truthfully, he trusted Gikwang’s judge of character and Yoseob hadn’t given him any reason not to trust him. Still… “She’s my daughter. And Gikwang is… This may be the weirdest little family unit out there, but it’s all I’ve got. And someone already tried to take it away.”
It wasn’t Yoseob, per se, that he didn’t trust. It was anyone that wasn’t Gikwang or Cheon.
The mercenary nodded, his expression becoming thoughtful and intent. “You have no reason to believe me, but I will protect you. All three of you.” He hesitated for a moment. “With my life if necessary.”
“Why?”
Gikwang had said Yoseob owed him a favor, though that didn’t seem to jive with what they’d obviously been to each other once upon a time. Yoseob had said that he’d have dealt with the threat to Gikwang regardless of whether or not his old friend had ever called him.
It didn’t explain how Doojoon and Cheon fell under that umbrella.
Dying for a friend? Doojoon could see how someone like Yoseob might think that was an acceptable end.
Dying for strangers?
That didn’t make sense to him.
Yoseob shrugged and looked away. “We should go to bed. I want to get started early tomorrow.”
“Yoseob-” Doojoon grabbed his arm before he could make a fast getaway for the bedroom. The muscles under his hand tensed, and he spared a moment to wonder if his reflexes were good enough to get out of the way before Yoseob could hit him. He doubted it, though, so it was just as well that the smaller man relaxed again.
“Maybe I just don’t think Cheon deserves to lose her father so young,” Yoseob muttered.
He wouldn’t look at Doojoon and the reporter in him questioned that. He didn’t think Yoseob was lying, exactly, but his instincts said that it wasn’t the whole truth, either.
Before he could push any further, Yoseob slipped out of his grip and headed to the bedroom.
“Any other questions, comments, or concerns?” he called over his shoulder as he vanished through the doorway, shedding clothing as he went.
Doojoon stared for a moment, his mind still trying to fit together the scattered puzzle pieces of Yang Yoseob, before the sight registered and pushed it away. He gaped at the empty room. “Hey, no nudity in my bed!” He rushed after the man. “And why are you- You can’t- I have a couch, you know!”
~*~*~
go to Chapter 3
Length: chaptered
Author: M_K Yujji
Rating: pg-13 (rating subject to increase in later chapters)
Genre: AU
Pairing/Characters: Doojoon, Gikwang, Yoseob, ofc of the child type (brief appearances by some surprise guests)
Warnings: RPS
Disclaimer: Though real people are used as characters, this fic bears no resemblance to Real Life and these people are not owned by me.
Comments/Notes: Partially inspired by snb123's spy prompt and this picture. ^_^
Originally I wasn't going to use any honorifics or in any way specifiy for certain where this fic takes place. Unfortunately, I ran into the problem of terminology. Things like 'ahjussi' and 'oppa', don't really have a generic English equivalent. And the 'Mr.' started getting very jarring.
Also, it hadn't occurred to me until my beta questioned some of Cheon's actions and dialogue in this chapter, but most of you probably don't have children. :x I have two. Trust me, I'm an expert on the many befuddling things little girls say and do. Between my daughter and all of her little friends, I've had quite the wide range of case studies to draw from.
Previously: Chapter 1
Summary: Doojoon is a gay reporter with too many enemies in too many places, the divorced father of a beautiful little girl. Gikwang is his deceased ex-wife’s last husband and the closest thing he has to family since his blood relatives disowned him. When an assassination attempt almost kills them all, Gikwang calls in a favor.
As if Doojoon's life isn't already complicated enough...
~*~*~
At six on the dot, the doorbell rang.
Doojoon glanced up from where he was trying to stuff all of the dirty clothes he hadn’t gotten around to doing over the last few weeks into his small laundry room.
“Gikwang?”
The doorbell rang again and Doojoon sighed and forced the door closed after shoving a few stray socks back in with his foot. As he passed through the living room, he shook his head at Gikwang and Cheon where they were sprawled out on the floor coloring together, headphones stuck in their ears.
The younger man startled slightly when Doojoon poked him in the side with a foot. “What? Oh… is it six?”
Doojoon just snorted and moved on to get the door.
He’d barely gotten it all the way open before his pretend lover’s small form bounced into his arms and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. Doojoon’s arms went around Yoseob’s waist automatically as if that was where they belonged. As if he’d held Yoseob a thousand times instead of just twice.
The garishly bright t-shirt made him blink and double take slightly. A little color and bangs instead of spikes should not have made such a difference, but the small changes made Yoseob look even younger than he had the first time Doojoon had met him. The smile only added to the impression.
Yoseob’s smile grew at Doojoon’s attentiveness. He curled closer and practically purred. “Did you miss me?”
Whatever smart remark he’d been about to make died on his tongue as Doojoon noticed the two men hovering behind Yoseob, looking sheepish and vaguely confused as they shifted the bags they were carrying. “Um… Yoseobie?”
Yoseob made a questioning sound and then glanced behind at the two men. “Oh yeah! Thanks so much guys!”
He let go of Doojoon and beamed at them as he took one of the bags - the smallest, Doojoon noted - and gestured for them to follow him.
“Umm…” The tallest of the pair glanced down at his companion with a helpless look, then over at Doojoon with a shrug, before following Yoseob obediently. The other shook his head with a bemused expression as he trailed along after them.
The blonde led them unerringly to Doojoon’s bedroom, all three disappearing for a moment.
“What the hell?” Doojoon muttered, sharing a confused and concerned look with Gikwang. He’d only seen them from a distance, so there was a chance he was wrong, but he was almost certain the two men were the same ones that had been following him that morning. The suits matched and the shorter one had even had sunglasses perched atop his head.
Gikwang just shrugged and shifted slightly so that he was closer to Cheon.
From the bedroom, he could hear Yoseob’s voice - loud and perky and not at all in keeping with the man he’d met that morning, though Doojoon supposed it worked better for his cover story - and the occasional responses from the other two.
It only took a few more minutes before they were all back in the living room, Yoseob dropping down beside Cheon with an oddly shaped but brightly wrapped present. He presented it to her with a flourish and a hopeful smile. “I brought you something.”
The little girl glanced up at her father for confirmation that it was okay. At his slight nod, she beamed at Yoseob and ripped the paper off to unveil a stuffed pony with yellow fur and a white mane and tail.
She loosed a happy squeal and clamored awkwardly to her feet to throw both arms around Yoseob’s neck. Doojoon could hear the thunk of the cast meeting the back of the man’s skull from where he stood. Both strangers winced in sympathy and even Doojoon was tempted to scold her to be more careful - both for herself and also for Yoseob - but Yoseob just smiled and hugged her back. “It’s not as pretty as your pictures, of course, but I thought maybe it was close?”
“Thank you!”
Once Cheon let go of him and turned her attention on her new toy, Yoseob rose and turned back to the men who’d brought his bags up. He thanked them sweetly and let them out of the condo with a wave and a promise to have them over for dinner some night.
Through it all, Doojoon stood exactly where he was, a little unsure at what had just happened. All he could do was stare at Gikwang’s friend. It was amazing how much the bright smile and almost radiant happiness changed the man. It was kind of creepy.
Once the door was firmly closed behind the strangers, Yoseob’s expression morphed back into something more familiar. His mouth pursed in thought as he stared at the door, then he arched a brow when he turned to find Doojoon still staring at him. Rather than say anything, he just rolled his eyes and shook his head before fishing out a cellphone. Whoever he called answered immediately. “Hey, yeah, Lee Donghae and Choi Siwon. Nah. Check military records. Police, maybe. No way in hell there’s a criminal record for either of them. Yeah. All right. Let me know.”
By the time he’d hung up, Doojoon’s powers of speech had returned and he scowled. “I thought you were supposed to be protecting us, not bringing the enemy right inside my home.”
Yoseob’s lip curled slightly, but he just rolled his eyes again. “They’re not a danger to you. If anything, they’ll be an added layer of protection now that they’re all ‘awww’ over Cheon.”
“And you,” Gikwang chimed in from where he’d rolled to sit cross-legged on the floor. He was grinning at Yoseob, completely unperturbed by the intrusion. It wasn’t his home, after all. His was a different condo in the building, still safely anonymous. “You left quite an impression on them, Seobie.”
Doojoon’s scowl deepened as Yoseob smirked and made a lazy gesture with his hand. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”
“Hardly,” Doojoon muttered under his breath.
Before he could say anything else, some foreign rock tune he didn’t recognize came whirring out of Yoseob’s pocket. He answered it easily, moving away from Doojoon and heading back towards the bedroom as he listened to whoever was on the other line. All Doojoon could here were muttered acknowledgments to whatever was being said as he followed the younger man.
His bags were nestled at the foot of Doojoon’s bed except a smaller one he could see sitting on the toilet through the open doorway of his bathroom.
Yoseob unzipped one of the bags and began laying things out across Doojoon’s bed. He tucked the phone into the crook of his shoulder, his head tilted severely so that he could continue listening. “Yeah, all right. You’ll be the first to know. Okay. Bye.” Yoseob snapped the cellphone shut and focused on Doojoon in the doorway. “I don’t suppose you made some space for my clothes?”
Doojoon arched a brow, but then just sighed and moved to clear out a couple of the drawers in his dresser. Most of his clothes hung in the closet. Half of his dresser was being used for random storage. It was easy enough to consolidate them into one.
“So messy,” Yoseob murmured behind him.
“And I suppose you’re a paragon of cleanliness?” Doojoon grumbled. It seemed like someone was always nagging him about his cleaning habits - first his mother, then his ex-wife… Even Gikwang did it from time to time, usually when he couldn’t find something for Cheon that Doojoon had shoved under something else to keep from having to pick it up.
The blonde actually laughed. “Dude, military. It’s kind of mandatory.”
Curiosity had Doojoon opening his mouth before he could consider the wisdom of questioning someone like Yoseob. “Are you still in?”
“Nah,” Yoseob answered easily enough. “I mean, I do the odd job for the government occasionally, but I wasn’t really cut out for a lifetime of following someone else’s orders blindly. I got out not too long after Kwangie.”
Doojoon glanced back in the direction of the living room before moving closer and letting his voice drop. “Gikwang’s never really talked about it…”
This time Yoseob hesitated before shrugging. “Sometimes a soldier is forced to do things he doesn’t want to think about after.” Dark eyes considered him for a moment before shrugging again. “And really, he’s doing you a favor. You don’t really want to know.”
That only made the reporter in him itch to dig deeper, but the line of Yoseob’s shoulders had gone tense and there was a bullish tilt to his mouth that said pushing was going to make him clam up entirely.
Instead he turned the conversation back to more neutral ground. “So, those guys….”
“Umhm… They were downstairs when I got out of the cab. Perfect opportunity.” Yoseob replied as he easily transferred his clothing into the drawers Doojoon had cleared out, each article placed carefully and neatly. They were even ordered by color and… Doojoon made a face. His socks were folded.
Neat freak.
Once the first bag was empty, Yoseob turned his attention to the second. Some of the equipment he pulled out of it were things Doojoon recognized, others he could only guess at. It all got sorted and moved aside.
Before he could ask questions about what Yoseob was going to do with any of it, Gikwang stuck his head into the bedroom. Cheon was perched comfortably against his hip, her good arm around his neck while the other was tucked between them. “Umm… Doojoon? Cheon is hungry. Are we doing dinner any time soon?”
“Oh…” Doojoon sighed and ran a hand over the back of his neck. He’d completely forgotten about dinner between the rush to try to clean up the worst of the condo and then Yoseob showing up. “Yeah, sorry.”
He hesitated and glanced over at their company. Yoseob had stopped and was looking back at him with a placid expression. Even though he hadn’t really wanted Yoseob to be there, the man was still a guest. “Was there anything in particular you wanted?”
Yoseob shrugged. “Whatever you have is fine.”
Laughing, Doojoon headed out of the bedroom shaking his head. “What we have… Jeez… you make it sound like we actually cook around here. What we have are a few dozen take out menus. So really… Any preference at all?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Um.. No?” Doojoon hesitated at the kitchen door for a moment as the others followed him. He hadn’t quite gotten around to cleaning up the kitchen. Then he made a face and turned to fetch out his stack of menus from the drawer near the door. If Yoseob was there for any length of time, he was bound to realize that Doojoon sucked at housework.
Gikwang picked at the clutter occasionally, but as long as Cheon was clean and fed, he mostly left well enough alone.
“Oh my god….” Yoseob was peering over his shoulder, a look of fascinated horror on his face as he took in the take out boxes scattered around the counter and the general clutter of the kitchen and dining room area. Stacks of newspapers spilled over the table that Doojoon and Cheon never used and three recycling crates overflowed with juice bottles and soda cans.
To be fair, neither space had seen much use since Doojoon’s divorce. Gina had been the one who wanted quality family time over the dinner table. He’d never seen much need in anything more than food on the couch while they watched television. It had driven her crazy, especially whenever he pointed out that it wasn’t like she was actually cooking anything. He supposed it had been one of the initial signs that it wasn’t going to work between them no matter how willing he’d been to ignore his preferences.
Yoseob slipped around Doojoon and headed for the refrigerator.
Doojoon rolled his eyes at the exaggerated hesitation the smaller man showed before opening it. He was reasonably sure there wasn’t anything alive in there.
He paused to consider it for a moment then shrugged. Ninety five percent certain, at least.
“At least you have milk,” Yoseob muttered, leaning down to examine the cartons. “They’re not even too far out of date. Dude,” he glanced up. “Even I know that you have to feed your kid more than take out and milk.”
“She gets three balanced meals a day,” Doojoon responded defensively. It wasn’t the first time someone had called him to task about the state of his kitchen. He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that Yoseob was probably the least qualified to give him parenting advice. “I just haven’t gone shopping this week.”
Usually he tried to keep a few easy and more or less healthy snack options on hand in case Cheon got hungry when all the restaurants were closed and Gikwang was asleep.
“Riiight…” The look on Yoseob’s face was dubious.
Gikwang very kindly did not point out that he’d been expressing those same doubts for years, though he did occupy himself with dusting imaginary dirt off of Cheon’s t-shirt.
“Oh shut up,” Doojoon muttered. Pointedly ignoring both men, he held up a fanned out option of take out menus to Cheon. “What do you want for dinner, sweetheart?”
Giggling at them all, Cheon tugged one out of the stack. “Pizza!”
He groaned and buried his face in the paper for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. He ruffled her hair. “You’re going to have Yoseobie believing that I really don’t feed you right, you know?”
She just laughed and wiggled out of Gikwang’s arms. She hurried off to get the phone. The pizzeria down the street was one of the few places where he’d let her do the ordering herself. They both liked the same toppings and they’d ordered there often enough that the old proprietor pretty much knew exactly what to send and where to send it as soon as he heard her voice.
Yoseob and Gikwang were both watching him with varying degrees of disapproval and disbelief.
“Daddy! Park-sshi wants to know if we want one or two pizzas cuz of Papa and Yoyo! I don’t want Papa’s yucky onions on mine!”
The startled silence held for a moment before Yoseob’s expression dissolved into hilarity and he doubled over in honest to god genuine giggles.
Doojoon rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, leaving Gikwang to deal with his friend while he went to rescue Park-sshi from the influx of TMI that was a seven year old girl.
By the time he was done ordering - three pizzas of varying toppings - Yoseob and Gikwang had joined them in the family room. Yoseob settled onto the floor, idly picking up a coloring book and flipping around for a clear page. He was still grinning and tiny little huffs of amusement escaped whenever he happened to glance over at Cheon.
Gikwang flopped onto the couch near Doojoon and just shrugged, vaguely apologetic.
“She can’t call you that,” Doojoon said, finally with a sigh.
Shrugging, Yoseob glanced up. “I’ve been called worse.”
“It’s not respectful. I’m having a hard enough time keeping her using properly polite speech with her elders.” Cheon’s etiquette was another victim of Gikwang’s foreign movies. He wouldn’t care as much if her teachers weren’t sending him notes every other week about her disrespectful way of speaking. At least they also complimented her higher than average intelligence and bilingual skills.
Yoseob sighed. “What exactly would you rather she called me? Yang-sshi? Yoseob-sshi? Oppa?”
“Ahjusshi.”
“Right. Because it won’t look the least bit suspicious that my boyfriend’s daughter is calling me ahjusshi.”
Biting his lip, Doojoon shook his head. “Uncle Yoseob.”
“Uncle Yoyo?” Cheon interjected, a curious look on her face.
He forgot sometimes that she was getting old enough to actually take an interest in the conversations he had over her head.
“The lady has spoken.” Yoseob smirked at Doojoon and saluted Cheon. “Uncle Yoyo it is.”
The door buzzer interrupted anything Doojoon might have said to the contrary and he decided to just let it lie. He had plenty of arguments still brewing on his tongue, but none of them were appropriate for little ears. Especially not little ears with a big mouth attached.
Over pizza and soda - juice for Cheon - they kept the conversation on light topics and eventually Doojoon flipped on the television. There was some good natured bickering over what to watch. Cheon wanted cartoons while Gikwang voted for the latest drama drivel he’d been watching lately. Yoseob expressed no opinion, just shrugging when they put the question to him.
Doojoon chose the soccer game, ignoring the whining protests of the rest of his family. He had the remote, after all.
Yoseob watched the proceedings with hooded eyes and Doojoon wondered at it.
Did Yoseob even own television?
Did he and Yunja ever fight over what to watch?
What did ex-soldiers turned possible mercenary and bodyguard actually do to unwind at the end of a hard day?
Doojoon wasn’t sure he actually wanted to know the answer to that.
Luckily, the questions fell away as he got absorbed by the game. He’d always loved the sport. Sometimes he liked to imagine that if he hadn’t gone into journalism, he’d have played soccer professionally.
Just after halftime, Cheon slumped bonelessly against him, worn out from the long day and groggy from a full stomach and her medication.
Gikwang laughed softly and scooped her up. “She can sleep at my place tonight. Let you guys get settled in and get everything sorted out without having to worry about her.”
Doojoon had to stifle his instinctive protest. Gikwang’s condo was just down the hall and Cheon had been switching back and forth between them since the day her mother had moved in with the younger man - long before he’d officially become her stepfather. Gikwang couldn’t have loved Cheon more if she’d been his by blood and Doojoon knew that. As painful as it had been taking a step back from the family life he’d carved out for himself, he’d been happy with Gina’s choice.
And when she’d died, Doojoon had promised to continue their shared custody.
This clinginess, Doojoon knew, was just a byproduct of the close call and the looming threat. He’d get over it eventually and there was no reason why she couldn’t stay the night in her bedroom at Gikwang’s.
Besides, there were definitely a few things he and Yoseob needed to work out before anything went any further.
“Yeah, all right. Thanks, man.”
“You don’t have to work tomorrow, right, Kwangie?” Yoseob had been quiet long enough that his voice startled Doojoon slightly.
Gikwang paused, nodding uncertainly. “It’s Sunday. The gym is closed.”
He’d worked as a personal trainer at the same gym for as long as Doojoon had known him. It was how they’d met, in fact. Gikwang had saved Doojoon from literally being crushed by his pride one day when someone had challenged him into free lifting far more than he could actually handle. His spotter had been even less suited for the weight and only Gikwang’s timely intervention had prevented Doojoon from having a very, very bad day.
“And you?” Yoseob asked, glancing at Doojoon.
“My medical leave isn’t up for another week.”
Yoseob nodded with satisfaction as he stood up and began cleaning away the paper plates. “Excellent.”
He didn’t say anything else as he headed towards the kitchen and Doojoon and Gikwang shared a questioning look.
“Seobie?”
The blonde paused in the doorway and glanced back at them. “Tomorrow we are cleaning this place up. I’ll maintain it as long as I’m here, but I refuse to be the only one involved in putting it right the first time. And after that, we’re going grocery shopping. For real food.”
Gikwang snickered slightly, shaking his head. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
He grinned at Doojoon and offered a little wave before letting himself out. Doojoon locked the door after him.
When he turned back around, Yoseob was standing there watching him quietly, hands in his jeans pockets.
“You don’t have to clean or cook while you’re here,” Doojoon said with a soft sigh.
Yoseob just arched a brow. “Your laundry room just tried to eat me when I went to grab a clean towel.”
“I’m… not very good with housework.”
“I noticed.”
Doojoon made a face. “I keep meaning to hire a maid, I just… I hadn’t gotten around to it before and then this whole mess started.”
“I don’t mind,” Yoseob said, shrugging. “Honestly, it gives me a valid excuse to do random sweeps for signs of an intruder. And there’s less chance of someone slipping you poison… or more drugs… if I’m in complete control of the food you eat.”
“…” He hadn’t actually thought of that.
Yoseob quirked a grin and shrugged. “Being paranoid comes with the business.”
He’d been in paranoia overdrive ever since he’d woken up in the hospital after the accident that wasn’t an accident and he still hadn’t considered any of the things Yoseob just took as obvious. It was already too much for him. He couldn’t imagine that kind of mentality. “I couldn’t live like that…”
“That’s why you’re the civilian and I’m not.”
“I thought you said you were out.”
Yoseob shrugged again. “I’m not official military anymore. Doesn’t make me a civie.” His smile was more cynical than amused. “Let’s just say it’s a state of mind.”
Running a hand through his hair, Doojoon sighed. They were getting off topic.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with Cheon treating you like a member of the family. You’re-” He broke off and glanced away. Somehow saying you’re a killer or you’re the hired muscle seemed like a bad idea.
Yoseob’s expression darkened slightly as if he could hear Doojoon’s thoughts, but smoothed out into blank watchfulness a moment later. “What did you think was going to happen, Yoon? To protect you, I have to be where you are. She’s a bright girl, but do you really think it’s feasible to sit her down and explain that someone is trying to kill you, almost killed her, and I’m the guard dog you brought in to deal with it, but hush hush, you can’t let anyone know that or it won’t work?” His voice drew up in a mocking tone as he moved closer. “It’s like a game of pretend, Cheon. Ignore him while he’s here, but pretend he’s daddy’s boyfriend outside where people can see.”
Although Yoseob had a point, Doojoon scowled. “We could have figured something out.”
“It’s done. If you change anything now, she’ll just be confused. At the very least, Lee and Choi will notice.”
Doojoon made a disgruntled sound. “You shouldn’t have brought them up here.”
“I told you. They’re not your attempted killer. Puppies, the both of them.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I can.” Yoseob sighed and Doojoon startled slightly to realize that the smaller man had gotten right up into his personal space, close enough that the rush of air tickled his collarbone. “They’re the kind of guys who join up out of a sense of duty and patriotism, then transfer over into the police force or fire department because they want to help people and their mindset works best with structure and rules. Good guys to have on your side, but they tend to have a limited view on how to deal with problems. They’d probably feel guilty for weeks if they had to kill the bad guys, nevermind the good guys and there is no way in hell they’d consider the collateral damage of Cheon’s broken arm to be worth any target.”
“But-”
A hand covered his mouth and Yoseob shook his head. “I’m the professional here, so you’ll just have to trust me.” He paused, a slightly bitter edge to the smile he gave Doojoon and his voice was subdued. “But that’s the real problem, isn’t it? Trusting me…”
Doojoon hesitated. Truthfully, he trusted Gikwang’s judge of character and Yoseob hadn’t given him any reason not to trust him. Still… “She’s my daughter. And Gikwang is… This may be the weirdest little family unit out there, but it’s all I’ve got. And someone already tried to take it away.”
It wasn’t Yoseob, per se, that he didn’t trust. It was anyone that wasn’t Gikwang or Cheon.
The mercenary nodded, his expression becoming thoughtful and intent. “You have no reason to believe me, but I will protect you. All three of you.” He hesitated for a moment. “With my life if necessary.”
“Why?”
Gikwang had said Yoseob owed him a favor, though that didn’t seem to jive with what they’d obviously been to each other once upon a time. Yoseob had said that he’d have dealt with the threat to Gikwang regardless of whether or not his old friend had ever called him.
It didn’t explain how Doojoon and Cheon fell under that umbrella.
Dying for a friend? Doojoon could see how someone like Yoseob might think that was an acceptable end.
Dying for strangers?
That didn’t make sense to him.
Yoseob shrugged and looked away. “We should go to bed. I want to get started early tomorrow.”
“Yoseob-” Doojoon grabbed his arm before he could make a fast getaway for the bedroom. The muscles under his hand tensed, and he spared a moment to wonder if his reflexes were good enough to get out of the way before Yoseob could hit him. He doubted it, though, so it was just as well that the smaller man relaxed again.
“Maybe I just don’t think Cheon deserves to lose her father so young,” Yoseob muttered.
He wouldn’t look at Doojoon and the reporter in him questioned that. He didn’t think Yoseob was lying, exactly, but his instincts said that it wasn’t the whole truth, either.
Before he could push any further, Yoseob slipped out of his grip and headed to the bedroom.
“Any other questions, comments, or concerns?” he called over his shoulder as he vanished through the doorway, shedding clothing as he went.
Doojoon stared for a moment, his mind still trying to fit together the scattered puzzle pieces of Yang Yoseob, before the sight registered and pushed it away. He gaped at the empty room. “Hey, no nudity in my bed!” He rushed after the man. “And why are you- You can’t- I have a couch, you know!”
~*~*~
go to Chapter 3