Fic: Comfort
Title: Comfort
Band: B.A.P
Pairing: Himup
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Implications, AU.
Summary: A late night visitor.
Notes: Badman!Au. Posted on my tumblr first.
A late night visitor.
It’s strange to think that someone like him could need comfort.
An assassin by trade, Kim Himchan is cold, calculating and most terrifyingly, silent.
In all the time he’s been part of the resistance, Jongup has never heard Himchan speak.
Neither, apparently, has anyone else.
He had asked around about everyone when he joined - wanting to know all he could to avoid friendly fire - and surprisingly it was Zelo, the youngest, that told him.
Himchan spoke to no one, and no one knew anything about him other than his name.
Very few had even seen his full face.
That didn’t deter Jongup, though.
Every time Himchan returned just before dawn, sometimes covered in fresh blood and sometimes not, Jongup still opened his mouth to ask.
"How’d it go?"
But Himchan never answers.
Instead, he fixes his surreal blue eyes on Jongup’s face.
It has taken a long time for Jongup to become accustomed to that piercing stare; like being driven through with an ice cold blade, Himchan’s gaze felt like being consumed by darkness, drawn in and suffocated and never let go.
Absolute.
Jongup doesn’t want to fathom what his victims must feel before they die - if they see him, that is. Rumour had it that Himchan evaded Daehyun once or twice, which was a feat in and of itself.
Daehyun is a master thief, capable of getting through even through the most guarded of places undetected.
Not that Daehyun let anyone keep believing it.
But Himchan is like smoke.
Deadly and barely there.
Zelo, their spy, couldn’t even find anything on him.
It was said that even Yongguk might have been mildly afraid of him.
And Yongguk wasn’t afraid of anything.
Which is why Jongup is reasonably startled when the bed dips beside him late one night. However, before he can make a sound the sharp edge of a knife is against his throat.
"Don’t move."
Jongup freezes, mind struggling against the fog of sleep to weigh his options. If there was an intruder, he had to sound the alarm, he had to-
The light of the night watch passes over the bunks before moving on, and Jongup’s eyes widen considerably.
Himchan stares back, scarcely three inches from his face, hidden from view by Jongup’s silhouette.
Jongup opens his mouth to speak, to back away - too close, too close- But Himchan follows, butterfly knife pressing harder against the tender skin of his neck.
"Don’t. Move."
The low husky voice makes Jongup still, completely tense. He watches Himchan yank down the covers of the bed and winces, unable to help it with the badly wound bandage around his upper leg.
A ragged slash during a recovery mission gone awry.
Himchan’s hands are quick and efficient as they cut the stained fabric and bare the ugly wound to the dark - Jongup can’t see it, but he knows it still fucking hurts, and it’s only the subtle threat of a sliced carotid artery that prevents him from hissing when something cold is pressed against it.
The disinfectant is strong and burns his nose before he realizes Himchan has taken it away and slid a needle through his flesh. Jongup grits his teeth so hard his jaw aches - his fingers grip his pillow so tightly his knuckles turn red, but Himchan doesn’t say a word as he finishes sewing the wound up and ties a stronger, more hygenic bandage around the wound.
Jongup wants to thank him, just as much as he wants to punch the living soul out of him - he couldn’t have done this in the morning? But when he opens his mouth, the words refuse to form.
Himchan pulls away, and Jongup stares.
He can still feel the light tingling of contact against his lips.
Jongup forgets to breathe.
He feels the sheets settle, and reaches out. He’s more than surprised to find solid weight, rather than a ghost. Himchan shifts closer, and Jongup hesitantly wraps an arm around the older man’s waist.
Himchan sighs like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, and Jongup isn’t sure what makes him relax just hearing it.
At some point he falls asleep though, because in the morning, Himchan is gone.
For the longest time, Jongup wonders if it wasn’t all some kind of infection-driven fever that made him hallucinate.
But when he looks down in the early morning light while he waits in line for the meagre gruel they call breakfast, Jongup knows.
It wasn’t a dream.
The pink tinged fabric is far too familiar.
Some find comfort in the simplest of things.
Jongup takes comfort in knowing that someone cares.
Band: B.A.P
Pairing: Himup
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Implications, AU.
Summary: A late night visitor.
Notes: Badman!Au. Posted on my tumblr first.
A late night visitor.
It’s strange to think that someone like him could need comfort.
An assassin by trade, Kim Himchan is cold, calculating and most terrifyingly, silent.
In all the time he’s been part of the resistance, Jongup has never heard Himchan speak.
Neither, apparently, has anyone else.
He had asked around about everyone when he joined - wanting to know all he could to avoid friendly fire - and surprisingly it was Zelo, the youngest, that told him.
Himchan spoke to no one, and no one knew anything about him other than his name.
Very few had even seen his full face.
That didn’t deter Jongup, though.
Every time Himchan returned just before dawn, sometimes covered in fresh blood and sometimes not, Jongup still opened his mouth to ask.
"How’d it go?"
But Himchan never answers.
Instead, he fixes his surreal blue eyes on Jongup’s face.
It has taken a long time for Jongup to become accustomed to that piercing stare; like being driven through with an ice cold blade, Himchan’s gaze felt like being consumed by darkness, drawn in and suffocated and never let go.
Absolute.
Jongup doesn’t want to fathom what his victims must feel before they die - if they see him, that is. Rumour had it that Himchan evaded Daehyun once or twice, which was a feat in and of itself.
Daehyun is a master thief, capable of getting through even through the most guarded of places undetected.
Not that Daehyun let anyone keep believing it.
But Himchan is like smoke.
Deadly and barely there.
Zelo, their spy, couldn’t even find anything on him.
It was said that even Yongguk might have been mildly afraid of him.
And Yongguk wasn’t afraid of anything.
Which is why Jongup is reasonably startled when the bed dips beside him late one night. However, before he can make a sound the sharp edge of a knife is against his throat.
"Don’t move."
Jongup freezes, mind struggling against the fog of sleep to weigh his options. If there was an intruder, he had to sound the alarm, he had to-
The light of the night watch passes over the bunks before moving on, and Jongup’s eyes widen considerably.
Himchan stares back, scarcely three inches from his face, hidden from view by Jongup’s silhouette.
Jongup opens his mouth to speak, to back away - too close, too close- But Himchan follows, butterfly knife pressing harder against the tender skin of his neck.
"Don’t. Move."
The low husky voice makes Jongup still, completely tense. He watches Himchan yank down the covers of the bed and winces, unable to help it with the badly wound bandage around his upper leg.
A ragged slash during a recovery mission gone awry.
Himchan’s hands are quick and efficient as they cut the stained fabric and bare the ugly wound to the dark - Jongup can’t see it, but he knows it still fucking hurts, and it’s only the subtle threat of a sliced carotid artery that prevents him from hissing when something cold is pressed against it.
The disinfectant is strong and burns his nose before he realizes Himchan has taken it away and slid a needle through his flesh. Jongup grits his teeth so hard his jaw aches - his fingers grip his pillow so tightly his knuckles turn red, but Himchan doesn’t say a word as he finishes sewing the wound up and ties a stronger, more hygenic bandage around the wound.
Jongup wants to thank him, just as much as he wants to punch the living soul out of him - he couldn’t have done this in the morning? But when he opens his mouth, the words refuse to form.
Himchan pulls away, and Jongup stares.
He can still feel the light tingling of contact against his lips.
Jongup forgets to breathe.
He feels the sheets settle, and reaches out. He’s more than surprised to find solid weight, rather than a ghost. Himchan shifts closer, and Jongup hesitantly wraps an arm around the older man’s waist.
Himchan sighs like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, and Jongup isn’t sure what makes him relax just hearing it.
At some point he falls asleep though, because in the morning, Himchan is gone.
For the longest time, Jongup wonders if it wasn’t all some kind of infection-driven fever that made him hallucinate.
But when he looks down in the early morning light while he waits in line for the meagre gruel they call breakfast, Jongup knows.
It wasn’t a dream.
The pink tinged fabric is far too familiar.
Some find comfort in the simplest of things.
Jongup takes comfort in knowing that someone cares.