Fic: In the line of fire (f)
Title: In the line of fire (f)
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 three men stared as the midnight black limousine pulled up to the front entrance of the club. Eyes were cast adrift as the lights glittered off of the dark midnight paint, hubcaps sparkling in the glow of streetlights and neon-lit signs. But they weren’t the only ones that seemed enraptured by the appearance of the high-end automobile. Patrons and party goes having flooded the streets on their way to one of the many clubs on the strip watched, enraptured, as the stretch sat along the curb idling in the glow.
It was as if a celebrity had just graced the doors with their presence and Yoochun thought that in some way that’s exactly what was happening. The leader of Tai Po’s most prominent street gang had just emerged into the public spotlight.
DaNa was bustling with clientele as the three sat on one of its v.i.p balconies, the man in the middle swirling his cognac as he eyed barely dressed men and women enter the establishment. He had been enamoured by the club’s ambiance, the walls aglow with monitors giving visual form to the beats being offered up by the sound system; wavy lines in techno-colour.
The large stage at the far end had an upper, railed level and a long cat-walk awash with dancers paid to show their skin, the paint on their bodies mimicking that of the vid-screens. The three foreign Yakuza had lingered there, just watching amongst the crowd, a little something for everyone until they were ushered up to the balcony by one of the staff.
A pretty little thing in a pretty little dress and he had watched Yoochun’s eyes follow her every curve as they climbed.
A set of almost impossibly long legs swung out of the black limo, instantly drawing his attention away from the swirling red liquid. The body that followed almost made him choke on his own spit as he elbowed the other man.
“Ow, what did I do to deserve that?” Yoochun griped, turning around to lean over the railing mid-sip.
The youngest of the group had taken off his suit jacket just after they had entered the large, modern-style room. Dressed only in dark dress-pants and a grey dress shirt Yoochun had rolled the sleeves up just past his elbows, showing off the intricate tattoo that ran down his right arm and fanned along the back of his hand.
“Look.”
He tried to follow the leader’s line of vision until he was able to spot three men striding towards the door.
They kept close together, the two taller men seemingly being led by the third, shorter man. They were all dressed similarly in suits giving off a strong contrast to the every-day patrons of the club. It was instantly clear that they were of some importance and if Yoochun were a betting man he would say that the three were their triad contacts.
Yoochun was indeed a betting man.
“Those are probably them. We should go.”
“No,” Jaejoong sighed, rolling his eyes. “Look, the really tall one.”
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific hyung,” Yoochun frown, watching as the group stopped to have a conversation with someone standing just off to the side of the entrance. A bouncer, most likely employed by the three well dressed men.
“Yoochunnie! Pay attention!” Jaejoong slapped him on the arm. “That one.”
“I think he’s a little young for you, perhaps you’d be better off with something paper trained?” Heechul’s voice cut through the music, smug smile painted on his face.
The third man had walked off to loiter in the middle of the room, pacing back and forth until an odd trinket caught his eye. He held a tall fluted glass delicately in his hand, its pink liquid sparkling in the light. He laughed at the look thrown at him pushing red bangs out of his face nonchalantly.
“Shut up.”
“Good comeback. Common’ Yoochun, let’s go meet the pup and his friends. Give the man some time with the mirror; we are meeting future business partners after all, he should look his best. There’s a private lounge downstairs, I’ve been told we’re to meet there.”
Yoochun nodded, draining the rest of his glass and rolling down his sleeves. He’d find another glass on his way downstairs, and if he was lucky a few other things as well. With a firm slap against Jaejoong’s back and a look of you’ll be alright by yourself right? Yoochun pushed off of the metal barrier to follow the older man, Jaejoong nodding as they disappeared into the beating heart of the club.
-----
The downstairs lounge was a stark contrast to the room that the three men had left minutes before. The lounge blended well with the club floor’s surroundings. It was sleek and modern, half walls enclosing the streamline sofas that were set up in an open box formation. The design made it easy to hold a conversation over the techno music playing in the background, and the half-walls made it easy to watch the vid-screens that were strung throughout the club. There was a slender, glass-top table in the middle to house all of their drinks, its metal legs curving downwards into the floor.
Settling into the comforting fabric of the sofa Yoochun slung an arm around each of the inviting forms at his side. Soft giggles played in his ears as the two girls’ whispered sin into his imagination. Heechul sat scowling on the seat to his left but Yoochun could tell he was secretly scanning the crowd for something more to his liking.
“Enjoying my club?” A man’s voice caught their attention, and Yoochun made a hopeful smile, unable to understand what the other was trying to communicate.
With a crisp snap of long fingers Yoochun’s smile quickly waned as the two women almost in
his lap jumped up to exit the booth, haste apparent in their steps. The three men took up their void, sitting themselves down on the opposite side of the table and Yoochun quickly recognized them as the men who had entered the club earlier.
They were dressed much as he and Heechul were, in fine clothes and tasteful adornments. The one that Jaejoong had pointed to appeared to be the one in charge of the group as he spoke to Heechul, the other stepping in to explain Yoochun’s lack of verbal understanding. The other two sat quietly on either side of the tall one and Yoochun could just catch the shorter one fidgeting with something in his hands.
“Perhaps introductions would be a good idea?” As you may well have guessed we represent the Rising Sun, my name is Max, this is U-know and Xiah. If you’d like, I’m sure the ladies would love to show you around our city?”
Yoochun sat, mouth agape, as Changmin switched smoothly into Japanese and Yoochun found he was muttering out his name, and that yes he would love a guided tour, in a dumbfounded stupor. Reaching for his glass Yoochun raised the copper liquid to his lips before he was shuffling to tap a Camel from the safety of the package.
There was some sort of communication from the shorter one, Xiah Yoochun scolded, as he lifted the tobacco to his lips and it was then that he realized the man was playing with a lighter, offering up the marvellously crafted item to light the stick. Yoochun leaned close to touch the end to the flame and the man’s eyes dazzled. The man named Max pulled his hand down when he lingered a second too long after Yoochun had pulled away, as if in silent contemplation over whether or not to shut the lid.
“We have come to negotiate business between the Rising Sun and the Angel of Death,” Changmin spoke, not wasting a second more.
“Well, he’s not here,” Heechul answered. “He sent Mickey and me to carry out any transactions you’d like to make. It’s come to our attention that we may have some… distressing things in common and are looking to make ties in order to safeguard our interests,” Heechul glared at the man as he took a long sip of the pink liquid in his grasp, clearly annoyed at having to deal with the young man.
Changmin scowled, fussing in his place before he snapped his head towards Yunho. Yoochun watched the exchange as the man reached into his suit jacket, lightning reaction having the Yakuza calculating just where his hidden weapon was before the man pulled out a long white envelope. Plucking it from his fingers Changmin pulled the paper out, the sheet instantly recognizable to Yoochun as the one Heechul had suffered through writing with Jaejoong.
“The note said I was to meet with the Angel of Death,” he held up the letter, tapping at it clearly annoyed.
Yoochun’s vision shifted uneasily to Heechul. The plan was to get them to agree to something and set up a meeting in Japan, not for them to have any access to Jaejoong. Any.
Shaking his head Heechul raised an eyebrow in silent question before dropping into Korean, “is this kid for real?”
“I refuse any dealings with you. I want what was promised me even if I must fly to Japan to obtain it.”
Heechul laughed then, a deep chuckle that had Yoochun‘s reflexes up as the man they called U-Know began to rise from his spot on the sofa. He was clearly ready to put Heechul in his place for the jovial outburst before a long arm stopped him and Yoochun thought he saw the smaller man reach behind to sooth him.
“Fine then,” Heechul huffed, “if that’s what you really want. But I’m not taking the heat for the outcome up front. Micky-sshi I believe the man would like what’s behind door number two.”
……………
Three knocks on the door, then two, followed by four staccato beats and the door was opening, the sounds from the lower level and the lone figure wafting inside before the door slammed shut leaving the remaining four behind to stand guard.
“Heechul, Yoochunnie, it’s about time you got back I was getting ….” Jaejoong’s eyes caught sight of the tall man standing just inside the door, eyes appraising the new situation. “…bored.”
A smooth smile played at the corners of Jaejoong’s mouth, his eyes beaming as he watched his visitor. The man looked too young to be so heavily involved in gang life, but the thought was quickly dissipating due to the realization that he was even more gorgeous in person. The man’s long legs and slender frame just begged to be pressed up against Jaejoong’s large office window, the pouty cleft of his top lip enticing Jaejoong’s tongue to play there until the other man begged to be freed.
Shuffling closer slowly, like the man would startle, as if he were some exotic animal, Jaejoong forced himself to keep the need to touch from surfacing. He had no idea who this man really was, nor how dangerous.
He took a few more steps until, in the shift of a second, the next step was suddenly one too many and he found his whole body flattened against the wall just off to the side of the door. The impact rattled the thoughts in his brain and Jaejoong cursed himself for being so undisciplined in-front of the nameless beauty. He knew if he called out that Yoochun and Heechul would come running, but he also remembered the two Triad members that had entered the club along with the one currently staring him down. The best course of action seemed to be to let things play out a little while longer.
Pushing against the taller man’s chest they tumbled along the wall until finally Jaejoong was slammed against the barrier again, cold metal pressed to his temple, the man, boy, holding a gun to his head. Eyes hardening Jaejoong licked his lips suggestively slow as the man stared back unmoving, he didn’t even flinch as Jaejoong smirked, let the smile play at the corners of his mouth as an enticing distraction. Now he really had the other’s attention and the Yakuza was excited to see if he was indeed a formidable opponent.
His hand fishing in the pocket of his dress pants Jaejoong slowly extracted the short silver blade of his favourite dagger, his fabled Kubikiri. He drew it out slowly, moving it in a ghost-like flutter up the man’s side until he could navigate the blade near the other’s ribs. Jaejoong observed the man intently trying to gauge just what they beauty’s intentions were. If he was looking to rattle Jaejoong’s nerves he was sorely mistaken, the Yakuza leader had lived through far more frightening things than a gun to his head.
“What are you waiting for?”
There was a click beside his ear.
The chamber of the gun rolled over, empty, and as the other man frowned clearly upset that the situation was not turning out as he would have liked Jaejoong began to laugh at the pout turning sinfully sexy across the man’s features.
With a flick of his wrist Jaejoong flipped the blade around, twirling it in his fingers away from the tall man’s side. He lifted his hand skimming his opponent’s raised arm and he jerked, shocked by the sudden pain as the dagger sliced through his fabric-clad skin. The knick bleed, soaked through his dress clothes and over the dagger before Jaejoong shoved him harshly away. The man tripped over his feet until he was steady, composed enough to nurse the wound.
“Wouldn’t have mattered if you shot me,” Jaejoong said to the room at large, examining the weapon, “my death would have taken your life too.”
The older man stalked away, letting his frame crumple gracefully into one of the plush seats he had been sitting in earlier, motioning for the younger man to do the same. He absentmindedly brought the blade to his lips, tongue flicking out to taste the other man on the weapon.
“You’re fucked,” the man replied watching Jaejoong’s tongue slip back into his mouth, the dagger finding its way back to the table.
He joined the Yakuza, sitting stiffly in the chair opposite Jaejoong as the older male played with his bunched up sleeves. Jaejoong ignored the glare, shifting to reach for his glass of cognac rather than face the young man’s dark, almost bedroom eyes.
“And you taste just as exquisite as I thought you would. What do you want?” Jaejoong’s lips kissed the glass, the other’s eye following his lips.
“I want the Angel of Death”
A perfectly manicured eyebrow arched at the younger man’s almost perfectly accented Japanese.
“And I requested a meeting with the leader of the Rising Sun, not some boy with an empty gun playing gangster.”
“I’m not a boy,” the man seethed. “I am the leader of the Rising Sun. Don’t waste my time; I assure you I will not lose sleep over killing you.”
Jaejoong’s eyebrow remained poised. He had hit a sore spot, a weakness of emotion and he filed it away. Leaning closer he let his eyes fall into a feline grace, licking the red stain off his lips slowly like he used to when he prowled the streets. It was a lifetime ago, before fine suits and silk.
“No, there are far better things to lose sleep over,” Jaejoong purred, enticed the man like a kitten with a ball of string. He let his eyes blatantly undress the man before him and the more Jaejoong watched him the more he wanted him no matter how much Jaejoong would fall from grace afterwards.
“I am the Angel of Death, leader of the Gods of the East,” he finally answered, rolling his arm to display the intricately etched tattoo on his forearm. The daemon’s eyes shone menacingly, teeth bared.
“Presumptuous aren’t we?” The man scoffed fussing with his torn clothing, pulling the jacket off so he could roll up the torn sleeve of his dress shirt and Jaejoong wondered where the man’s marking was.
“And you are?”
“Max.”
“Max,” Jaejoong rolled the name over his tongue trying to attach it to the beauty sitting mere feet from him. “Well, that’s boring.”
“You’re the one who requested this meeting,” Changmin grumbled, more than slightly irritated. Dealing with this man was even worse than dealing with Junsu. “I did not come here to be mocked.”
“You’re the one who put a gun to my head,” Jaejoong found himself snipping back before he could reign himself in. He was losing it around the man already and he quickly grabbed for another draught of alcohol.
“I came with the intentions of establishing relations between the Gods of the East and the Rising Sun. I believe we have some … mutual problems that would perhaps be better dealt with if we were to work together.”
“What sort of problem?”
Shifting in his seat Jaejoong dug his hand into his other pocked before producing a small gilded box, ornate lotus leaves sitting as if in bloom on the top. With an almost feminine delicacy, like it was a most prized possession Jaejoong slid the lid open, and letting his fingertips peak in-side he pulled out a small circular object, placing it on the table before Changmin.
“Ew, what… is that?…. Ew”
“Just a little souvenir, but I wager you recognise the symbol. They have come to Kyoto, nipping at my heels like a pack of starving dogs. As I understand it, once they have removed the obstacle you represent they will be coming after me. Naturally I would like to stop that from happening. ”
Jaejoong relaxed back in his chair carding his fingers as he watched for Changmin’s reaction. Lazily crossing one leg over the other he took the brief silence to let his mind wander through thoughts of the young man spread out naked underneath him, chest heaving as sweat dappled along the deep valleys of his collarbone, daydreaming about all of the tastes that would dance on his tongue.
“Their attempts to take over Tai Po are not new. Their last calculated attack killed my father, but I am stronger. I do not need your help, and once I eradicate them you will not need to worry.”
Fucking cocky kid, Jaejoong thought, astonished as the young man stared at him an almost bored expression on his face.
“Fine then,” Jaejoong replied dreamily, fussing with his sleeves. “I was going to offer an expansion of your selling markets into the areas of Japan that I currently control; Kyoto being only a small fraction of my operations, not including the ties my Second has to the U.S. market. But if you’d prefer to settle on the small productions you have here, that’s fine with me.” Jaejoong rose gracefully from the chair, turning his back on Changmin as if indicating that the door had just been slammed in his face.
He counted to ten before taking a step in the direction of the door, fingers idly playing with his bangs.
“Wait.” Changmin jumped to his feet, almost reaching out to grab the man so that he could not take another step towards the door. “You’d make such a grand alliance with me? With the Rising Sun?”
“For your assistance in shutting down whoever is killing my men and steeling my money yes. I would also expect the same courtesies in running my goods through Tai Po.” Jaejoong tried not to laugh at the cute way the younger man scrunched up his face in contemplation.
“Fine then. I accept your deal.”
“Excellent!” Jaejoong beamed, clapping his hands together, every ounce of cold seriousness instantly draining from his face.
“I will set up a meeting for us to solidify our union. I think the penthouse I was looking at downtown would be lovely.”
Changmin nodded as he grabbed for his jacket from the back of the chair so that he could saunter towards Jaejoong and the door as he slipped his arms into the sleeves. He could just make out the sounds of conversation in the hallway. The four men he had left behind apparently making friendly conversation as well.
“Now if everything is settled, I best not keep Mickey from the ladies you surely promised him. He never buys me lunch when I’ve kept him from enjoying his evening.”