Fic: In the Line of Fire (W)
Title: In the line of fire (W)
Author: Sev-chu
Pairing: Jaejoong x Changmin, Yunho x Junsu (Yunho x ofc) Yoochun x ofc(s)
Rating: PG
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
Changmin closed his eyes. He needed to get some sleep, but the constant beeping of monitors and machines were working against him. He hated hospitals. He hated the smell, the dryness, and he especially hated the death; the realization that the stoic, overly sanitized building reminded him of his father’s death.
His hand was numb; the pain of the cuts and gashes inflicted almost a week earlier no longer weighing in his mind. Changmin couldn’t remember when his hand had lost feeling; somewhere between the moment he had clasped Jaejoong’s pale, clammy hand in his own, and the unknown hours that had passed since.
Yoochun and Junsu took turns standing outside of the private hospital room alternating with Yunho and Heechul when Yunho wasn’t glued to Junsu’s side. He was thankful for the Hospital’s discretion. It was imperative that he had the ability to manipulate and pay off the hospital staff, and administration, for those times when Sungmin wasn’t capable, or didn’t have the necessary equipment to help the Rising Sun’s wounded. A few well placed dollars could get you the best care if you knew who to give them to.
The Triad leader rested his head against the mattress watching Jaejoong’s chest rise and fall in rhythmic breathing. His eyes were closed in sleep, hospital gown peeking out from under the blankest that were also trying to hide a jumble of tubes and wires.
“Max?” The whisper brought the Triad’s head up, Yunho peaking around the door before stepping just inside the room. “How is he?”
“Don’t fucking call me that. He’s sleeping, still sleeping. But, at least there aren’t as many tubes as yesterday. ”
“Sure, right,” Yunho mumbled quietly under his breath a nervous hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m going for a bit. I wanted to tell you because Mickey and Junsu aren’t here yet. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Changmin turned around to look at the older man, his body shifting but still unwilling to let go of Jaejoong’s hand. They stared at each other for a long moment before he sighed.
“Yeah sure, just keep your head down.”
The ex-cop nodded, took another look at the wounded Yakuza leader before swinging the door back open to exit.
“Yunho?”
“Yeah Changmin?”
“Thanks. I owe you one.“
“Don’t tell Jaejoong I carried him like a wilted bride and we’ll call it even,” Yunho tried a smile, only making it halfway before he quickly exited the room.
Changmin’s attention turned back to the man lying in the bed. He needed to stretch his legs, needed a coffee. He needed something. Frowning, the Triad leader stood up, unravelled his fingers from Jaejoong’s and turned towards the small window.
“Don’t leave,” the voice was barely audible, the scratchy tone left over from the respirator making Changmin wince.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” Changmin answered.
He returned to the bed and stood over the older man as his eyes fluttered weakly. Jaejoong tried to move and Changmin was forced to settle his hand on the Yakuza’s shoulder to keep him still, eyes darting to the monitors as they started to beep angrily.
“Just stay still. Don’t give the nurse an excuse to tie your hands to the bed. I can tell she’s been waiting for the opportunity to undress you again.”
“I’d rather you do it,” Jaejoong smiled, before a stab of pain shot through his body.
“I’ll get her to give you some more morphine.” Changmin fussed with the buzzer at the side of the bed, trying to remember which button Junsu had told him to push. Red or blue?
“It’s fine. Changmin, it’s fine. It’s been worse.”
A lie, it was always a lie. He had told it to Yoochun so many times he had started to believe it. But would Changmin believe him? Jaejoong always knew Yoochun didn’t necessarily believe him, but he was always gracious enough to not say anything. The taller man glared, but eventually paid him the same courtesy, and a soft kiss against his forehead.
“Do you want anything?”
“Scotch, and to know what the fuck happened.”
“You’ll have to settle for water,” Changmin stated, crossing the room to where he had pushed the rolling table. The large Styrofoam cup was cold on his injured hands, the half melted ice making the container sweat frigid droplets.
“And by water, I mean ice chips.”
He let the first sliver melt along Jaejoong’s lips, fingers brushing the chapped skin until it glistened. The second Jaejoong took with a curl of his tongue, sweeping against Changmin’s fingertips, sucking on the tip of his index finger.
“What happened to your hands?”
“Patients,” the younger man ordered, returning the cup to the table. When he returned to Jaejoong’s bedside the man’s eyes were half closed. “This should wait until later.”
“No, tell me now. Where is everyone else? You didn’t leave them fighting somewhere did you?”
Changmin sighed as Jaejoong flipped from topic to topic in his semi-delirious state. He had a feeling he would be telling the story more than once.
“No, I didn’t. They’re standing outside keeping guard.”
When Jaejoong looked quizzically at him Changmin grimaced. “You’ve been unconscious for five days.”
Sitting back down in the chair, the Triad leader gathered Jaejoong’s hand back into his own. He pressed a kiss to the center of the older man’s palm before laying their hands down on the bed. He could see the older man keeping an eye on him, waiting for the story to start before he passed out again, and he knew Jaejoong would fight it until he heard what he wanted to hear.
The short version would suffice for now.
“Heechul is outside right now. Yunho left to do something. He’ll be back soon, before Yoochun and Junsu take the next shift. I hurt my hands climbing trough rubble. Half the building exploded right after you were ... right after you were shot. I sent Yoochun and Yunho to take you to Sungmin’s and went to confront my brother.“
Changmin paused, watching Jaejoong watch him. He could tell the older man was going to argue his decision to send the three of them to Sungmin’s leaving him alone and vulnerable, but he didn’t have the energy to raise his voice.
“By the time I found Donghae he was already trapped by the fallen ceiling and was dying. He wanted me to kill him, but I couldn’t. I left him there, and as soon as I was clear of the building the whole thing exploded compliments of my resident pyro.“ Changmin couldn’t help but smile. “Heechul picked us up and brought us to you.”
When Changmin looked up he could see an apologetic look in the older man’s eyes. The tightening squeeze of Jaejoong’s fingers was more comforting than any words would have been at that moment.
“I’m glad you’re alright. The last thing I remember is diving towards you, but I can’t remember if I made it to you or not.”
“You did. I should have been hit, not you.”
“As long as I’m going to be ok it was worth it. I am going to be ok right? I’m going to live to have you fuck me senseless?”
The younger man shuddered, hiding his face in the bend of Jaejoong’s elbow, his cheek covering the intricately black tattoo until he could retain his composure.
“The doctors said you’re going to be all right, but it was touch and go for a while.” Changmin tried to keep his tone even, didn’t want Jaejoong to hear how much the incident had upset him. He refused to tell the man he almost died. “Lacerated liver, intestinal damage and you’re a kidney lighter. You should probably thank Yoochun for all the blood he pumped into you.”
“I’ll buy him something pretty. Can I have one of your kidneys?” Jaejoong pouted trying to move his hand to poke at Changmin’s side, pursing his lips when he couldn’t reach.
“Maybe if you’re really nice to me I’ll buy you one for your birthday,” Changmin stood up to humour the older man, touching their lips together in a chaste kiss.
“I have to go. Running two syndicates in two countries is hard work.”
“Tell Heechul to get off his lazy ass and help you,” Jaejoong mumbled as sleep began to overtake him.
Changmin smiled, letting go of Jaejoong’s hand with a kiss. Grabbing for his suit jacket hanging from the back of the chair, he slipped his arms in as he walked towards the door. With his hand on the knob, just about to leave, Jaejoong voice caught his ear.
“Changmin, what Donghae said…”
“I know.”
“You know I ..”
The younger man turned around to look at his lover with a smile.
“Me too.”
... ... ... ...
The mango pudding shuddered, trembled on Jaejoong’s lower lip ready to commit suicide on the clean starched linens until Changmin saved it from its untimely fate. His tongue dabbed across the offensive lip gathering the pudding and Jaejoong’s mouth for a kiss.
They were both curled into the small hospital bed, blankets pulled up to keep Jaejoong warm as Changmin cradled the recovering man in his lap. The curtains were drawn over the room’s large windows to keep out the hallway’s offensive light more than anything else. The sixth floor wing of the hospital was virtually abandoned, their privacy well paid for.
His head tilted back, Jaejoong flattened his tongue along the younger man’s neck in hopes of reaching the off-coloured birthmark. A hiss caught in his throat as he felt the stitches at his side protest the reach, Changmin scowling down at him.
It had been a long two months of waiting, of Changmin watching as the Yakuza slowly healed. The small incremental steps of his improvement were even more excruciating for Changmin as he sat idly by; a spectator unable to help. But, he told himself, this is what made it all worth it, holding the other man in his arms and feeling their skin touch one more time.
“Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine,” the older man protested, retreating back to the company of Changmin’s lips.
He rubbed his foot along the Triad leader’s sweat-pant clad calf, the slippery fabric of his silk pyjamas tickling the Yakuza’s leg with the action. His goal was accomplished when Changmin moaned into his mouth, the hand at his hip fidgeting and the younger man almost dropped the spoon onto the floor.
“You’re supposed to be eating,” Changmin gasped. “The quicker you can gain some weight the quicker I can take you home to a substantially larger bed with silk sheets and have my way with you.
“Tease,” Jaejoong purred.
“I am eating. You’re just not feeding me well enough.”
Growling, the younger man bit down on Jaejoong’s neck sucking hard until the Yakuza squirmed.
“Stop, stop!” Jaejoong cackled. “What will the nurses think? They’ll never let me leave if you keep abusing me, leaving strange welts on my body.”
“They’ll just think you have a pet octopus, although I prefer to think of Changmin as some giant, ugly, squid type creature,” the new voice broke the two tussling men apart, their eyes meeting with Junsu’s wide smile and infectious giggling.
“How did you get in here?” Changmin narrowed his eyes at the three men now standing in Jaejoong’s hospital room. “I specifically locked the door so you couldn’t annoy me today, on my only day off.”
“Yunho can pick locks,” Yoochun shrugged, throwing his boss a wink as he pulled a cigarette from the pack.
“Oh god, Chunnie, give me one,” Jaejoong reached as far as the I.V. would let him, wiggling his fingers at Yoochun.
“Touch that stick and I will remove your other kidney,” The Triad leader growled, holding out his hand towards the offensive white cylinder, the glint of silver on his palm emphasizing his threat. “Do none of you have any respect for hospital rules?”
“I thought the title “gang lord” pretty much exempt me from all those rules,” Jaejoong frown over being denied what he wanted. He changed tactics, pecking Changmin’s lips instead before turning to his visitors. “What do you want?”
“Glad to see you too,” Yoochun mumbled, thrusting the Camel back in its package.
“You wanted to have a meeting at three, it’s already five,” Yunho cut in, trying to head towards a point. “Changmin, I’ve managed to collect the information we were looking for.”
“We!” Junsu cut in.
“We,” Yunho corrected.
“And?” Changmin sat up taller in the bed, shifting a disgruntled Jaejoong until he could reach for his glasses on the rolling table.
Passing Jaejoong his own glasses, Yunho gave them the manila envelope he had been patiently holding in his hand. It was labelled evidence, the flap hanging, torn open. The Triad leader dumped it on the bed in-between Jaejoong’s spread legs, pictures, written reports and
other bits of material scattering over the linens.
“That’s everything I could find pertaining to the Rising Sun’s involvement in illegal activities here in Hong Kong, the warehouse explosion and any references linking you with Japan. “ Yunho explained, stepping forward to pick through the pile until he was able to find what he was looking for. Two large, stapled bundles of paper extracted from the heap.
“Hey Yunho,” Jaejoong whistled. “You look pretty hot when you kiss Junsu like that.” The Yakuza held up a large glossy of the two locked in what appeared to be a rather passionate kiss, his body physically jerking as Changmin pinched him. “Ow! I’ve already been shot, leave me alone. You’re not an octopus you’re a crab with pointy claws.”
“Yeah,“ Yunho frown, “didn’t see any reason to leave those behind either.”
“What about the rest of your file with the Police? Service records, the undercover mission?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. There is a second folder that I left on your desk containing all of the intelligence the police have conducted on the Golden Dragon up until about two weeks ago. It appears as though, with Donghae’s death, they’re weak, weaker than we had anticipated. They’ve gone underground, pulled almost all of their men off the streets and pulled back to about four locations in the city for conducting business. Yoochun was able, with the help of the police records, to narrow it down and find exactly where those four places are. We could technically takeover what’s left of their syndicate relatively easily.”
“Agreed,” Changmin pursed his lips. “We could use the contacts the Golden Dragon had to push and pull more through Japan. This could benefit all of us.” He watched as Jaejoong studied the list of criminal activities the ruined syndicate was accused of being involved with that Yunho had handed the Yakuza leader.
“We could use it to push towards Osaka. I hear they’ve been weakened by some high ranking deaths recently. Yoochun, we’ll co-ordinate our efforts, whatever the Rising Sun need, if we have it, it’s theirs. ”
“Oh course Hyung.”
“There’s one more thing,” Yunho cut in before he lost his opportunity.
He nodded to Junsu and the smaller man smiled, fishing a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. Unfolding it, he smoothed the crinkled newsprint against his thigh before handing it over to Changmin. “I’m going to need that back.”
“Apparently Junsu and I have been declared killed in the line of duty. The article talks about the train station explosion and how it was reported that two undercover police officers were inside during the time of the blast. Because no bodies were found, the police department has taken it upon themselves to presume we had been incinerated at the epicentre of the explosion. It’s kind of weird to see your own funeral. ChoonYei was there. It's better this way, there won't be a need for a divorce and she'll be well taken care of.”
Changmin nodded in understanding.
“They gave you a funeral?” Jaejoong smirked, “Like with horses and a gun salute?”
“Yeah,” Junsu beamed. “It was awesome.”
“So then, it’s over.”
“I never thought I’d be able to say that. I thought I’d be dead before I got to say that,” Changmin slumped against the wall.
“Well enjoy it,” Jaejoong spoke, shooting daggers at the other three, mentally shooing them out of the room. “Because it’s only just begun, you’ve just accomplished what your father could never do; you’ve just aligned yourself with the Gods of the East in taking over Asia.
~ fin ~