Fic: In the line of fire (a)
Title: In the line of fire (a)
Author: Sev-chu
Pairing: Jaejoong x Changmin, Yunho x Junsu (Yunho x ofc) Yoochun x ofc(s)
Rating: Pg - Nc-17
Summary: Mob wars are painting the streets of Hong Kong and Japan red with blood ensnaring the rogue cop in its wake. Can Yunho find him in time to save him and is he ready for what he finds? Can the gangs unite to stop the violence or will they tear each other apart with their greed?
The bass pounded through the dark, crowded room as the people packed inside gyrated and swayed. Saturday night and Noir with its unassuming façade during the day, turned into the hottest spot to be when the sun went down. It was only midnight but the crowds gathered along the busy downtown Kyoto streets. The debris of everyday life swirled at well adorned feet, the castoffs of personal solitude and hopeful encounters floating on the cancerous air of overpopulation. The scantily clad women stood with tiny shawls to hold back the cold night air while men lit smokes, illuminating the dirty concrete.
Meanwhile, inside the lavish nightclub was crisp and warm. Sconced walls were lit with a warming light bordering on the pretentious while the raised d.j. platform allowed mix-artists to showcase their abilities to the paying crowd. The main floor was home to the large dance floor, its wide reaching surface accounting for most of the club’s patrons as they danced their worries away, gathering drinks from the floating waitresses as they circle. The large bar, under-lit in black light and hosting a vast array of alcoholic additives sat along the full expanse of the back wall. Men and women alike collected a drink or three, phone numbers and money being handed over with a smile and a curt nod.
On the second floor, with its large gold-rung balcony v.i.p lounges sported elegant fish-tanks encasing the world’s most exotic fish and sea life. Plush couches were privately screened off from the rest of the club with ornate panels, the solitude for most a welcome way to eat lavishly prepared food in the dimly lit ambiance. For others a more unsavoury connection brought them to the second floor of Noir, a quietly laced network of drugs and beautiful women willing to take their close off, or more, for a fee.
It was on one of these couches that the man sat, his clothing as black as the club’s name. His eyes darted back and forth watching the woman standing on the table in-front of him swing her hips, long fingers teasing the clasps of her bra as she watched him anticipate its removal. Cigarette in his hand Yoochun sipped at the scotch in his glass. He had pulled his tie off long ago, the top buttons of his dress shirt hanging open as if the club were just a few degrees too hot for his liking.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught a shadow that was not the dancer’s, its feline grace telling him it was his boss as he slowly brought his hand away from the gun tucked just underneath his jacket. When he looked up the dancer had stopped, her rhythm interrupted by the intruder and Yoochun laughed when she hid her bare breasts with her arms.
“Please, don’t stop on my account,” Jaejoong smirked laying a bill at her feet before he fell into the couch beside Yoochun.
The glass of cognac swirled in his hand as Jaejoong let his eyes slide over to his driver, Yoochun’s eyes firmly glued to the dancer as she turned around and started to bend over.
“News?” The older man asked, slipping easily in Korean. He may have grown up on the back streets of some small Japanese town but his parents had always insisted he know where his family came from.
It came in handy when discussing business with Yoochun.
“Two more street runners are dead. That makes five in the past week. This is getting serious hyung.”
“Hmmm,” Jaejoong agreed, watching the woman pull her finger out of her mouth suggestively.
“You gonna’ fuck her after?”
“Focus hyung, please.”
“Right,” Jaejoong took another sip, his lips kissing the glass as the intoxicating liquid lightly stained his flesh.
“We need to find out what these people want. How powerful they are without making it look like it’s anything but business as usual. Keep everything rolling, tell everyone to watch their backs and then find out what the hell is going on.”
Yoochun nodded, leaning forward to crush the butt of his cigarette in the marble ashtray resting beside him. Letting his eyes scan up, the dancer had finished her performance crouching down to collect her clothes before accepting Yoochun’s hand to help her down from the table. He smiled, winking slightly as he slipped some bills and a business card into her hand, her exit leaving the two men alone in the small room with the lazily swimming aquatic life.
“Word on the street is they’re Triad coming over from Hong Kong, but what they want with Japan I don’t know yet.”
He watched Jaejoong nod seeing the information process behind the leader’s hard eyes. Leaning over Yoochun pulled the lighter from his pocket to spark the older man’s cigarette as it sat perched in-between his lips. Yoochun had wanted to kiss them once, so many years ago; until he realized that the other man’s femininity was only superficial.
“Some people are just greedy Yoochunnie. Too bad they don’t understand I don’t share,” Jaejoong smirked blowing smoke away from the only man he trusted completely.
“We need to send a message of our own. Cut off any business we have in Hong Kong, if any of these people are seen shoot them. I want to start hearing about a body count.”
Yoochun nodded and Jaejoong raised his glass to finish the last of the cognac. The half finished cigarette found itself quickly stamped out in the ashtray. They sat idle for a few minutes as the club’s heavy beats wafted up to them from the first floor. Feeling the younger man fuss in his pocket for his cell phone Jaejoong could make out a flash of the text message; the lovely lady checking back on Yoochun’s business proposition, and as his driver looked back up Jaejoong’s eyes lit up like he had just thought about dessert, or his last good fuck.
Yoochun slid the electronic device back into his pocket picking up his scotch, fingers splayed at the base of his glass as he watched, the stripper forgotten for the plan hatching in Jaejoong’s mind.
“We should set a trap.”
“A trap hyung?”
“A trap. We need information, and what better way to get it than from the source. Where are most of the hits coming from?” Jaejoong asked pulling his own cell phone from his pocket.
“The south quarter.”
“Then tell the south quarter to keep their eyes open, I want one of those scum in my office; alive. Perhaps a lesson in finesse is needed. Now,” Jaejoong smiled, patting Yoochun’s knee as the other man nodded his approval at the new plan. “Let’s not keep your lady friend waiting.”