Angel with a Shotgun [II / V]
Title: Angel with a Shotgun [II / V]
Pairing: MinHo
Summary: A mission to annihilate his former best friend. Does he have the guts to do it?
Rating: NC-17 (Overall)
Genre: AU, Angst, Dark, Smut
Disclaimer: TVXQ are the Kings - we belong to them. Trolol.
A/N: Jaejoong’s not all that heartless! I can prove it in this chapter! D:
*
The room is heavy with silence.
“Changmin?” Yunho’s voice sounds awfully hollow. “As in … Minnie?”
Jaejoong nods and gently lays the paper on the table, clearing his throat. He doesn’t look up at Yunho. He doesn’t want to.
“Jae …” Yunho almost whispers. “Why Changmin?”
Jaejoong looks up and Yunho is both surprised and pleased to actually see tears in Jaejoong’s eyes.
“You think I want Changmin to get dragged into this?” he hisses, slamming his fist against the table and making Yunho jump. “But what else am I supposed to do? Changmin is linked to Cho Kyuhyun because they’re related, and is therefore linked to our transactions.”
Junsu sighs, rubbing suspiciously damp eyes. “Hyung, can’t we just call this off?”
Jaejoong turns surprised eyes at him. “Excuse me?”
Junsu looks away, staring at the framed picture of all four of them on Jaejoong’s desk. “Minnie is our best friend. He still is. Why must you kill him?”
“Don’t you remember the first rule established, Su?” Yunho asks, voice quiet. “We do not back out of a mission.”
Junsu looks at him, surprised. “Yun-”
“I have a mission to carry out,” Yunho tries to sound firm, but he knows the tears threatening to trickle out is anything but. “Tell me where he lives. I need to map out a plan.”
“Don’t you dare lay a finger on him, Jung,” Junsu snarls. He looks at Jaejoong with a fierce look. “We’ll find a loophole in this. I don’t want anyone to hurt Changmin.”
“But … that’s backing out … And we can’t afford to reject any missions …”
Junsu stabs a finger in Yunho’s direction. “You. Shut the fuck up.” He turns back to Jaejoong and leans forward, hands digging out small grooves in the polished wood of Jaejoong’s desk. “Negotiate with someone else, hyung. I don’t care who it is, Kim Jongil’s skeleton or even your mom, just leave Changmin out of this.”
Jaejoong’s eyes flash piercingly as he stares at Junsu. “You dare question me? My motives?”
“Never question,” Junsu sneers, standing straight and folding his arms, looking down at Jaejoong with arrogance. “Just demanding you change it.”
The next action happens so fast Yunho barely has time to scream in shock.
Jaejoong had leapt from his chair and vaulted over his table, pouncing on Junsu and straddling him with a growl. He furiously takes his gun out and presses the cold barrel against Junsu’s temple, disengaging the safety device.
“Jae-!”
“Come any closer, Yunho, and my finger might just slip,” Jaejoong glares, his attention still focused on the man he’s sitting on. He presses the gun harder against Junsu’s temple, growling at him. “You do not question my motives, Kim. Best friend or not, you still have rules to follow.”
“Killing one of my best friends is not a rule,” Junsu spits, struggling under Jaejoong.
“It’s a requirement.” Jaejoong’s voice is so cold, so deadly that Junsu doesn’t argue. They stare at each other, so full of challenge and dominance that Yunho can practically hear the sparks. Jaejoong’s the first one to break eye contact, getting off Junsu fluidly and allowing Yunho to help Junsu up.
Jaejoong takes out a cigarette and lights it using one of the candles. He takes a deep drag and exhales the smoke slowly, savoring the rush of nicotine. “You joined this company to not only save your bankrupt families’ asses, but to help support me too. You never rebelled against me in the eight years we worked together. Why now?”
“Changmin is my friend,” Junsu instantly repeats.
Yunho rests a hand on Junsu’s shoulder in an effort to calm him down. “He’s our friend.”
“Exactly.” Junsu is quick to agree. “Why can’t Sir Jaejoong see that?”
“Transactions must always go off without a hitch,” Jaejoong replies coolly, making small puffs, fascinated with how the diaphanous smoke curls upwards. “Nip it at the bud, which in this case is Changmin. Didn’t you always say that you must get rid of the bad apples in the basket, Junsu?”
Junsu’s hand clenches tightly. “I didn’t mean Changmin.”
Jaejoong scoffs. “Well, now you do.” He turns his back on them and stares out of the window, getting lost in his thoughts. “Run off now. I need Yunho to have a good night’s rest before we discuss his mission.”
Junsu takes a step forward, preparing to open his mouth to argue, when he catches sight of Jaejoong’s reflection and his slightly trembling shoulders. He swallows and bows ninety degrees, pulling Yunho down to do the same.
They both leave for their quarters, and only when the door closes does Jaejoong lean his forehead against the glass and let out tears he had tried so hard to hide.
*
Changmin gets drenched head to toe the moment he steps out of his car. He sighs and brushes away the wet hair sticking to his face, shoes squishing uncomfortably with every step he makes.
His keys slip from his cold and numb fingers, landing just in front of the door. Changmin curses and swiftly picks them up. He misses the keyhole several times and fiercely twists it when it goes in correctly.
He swings the door open and freezes.
There’s someone in his house, apparently waiting for him.
Holy shit, who the hell is he? Changmin cautiously takes a step in and closes the door behind him. “Um … can I help you?”
The man has wavy black hair and piercing eyes. He doesn’t say anything for the meantime, studying Changmin up and down. “You are Shim Changmin?” His voice is deep, but oddly soothing.
Changmin nods slowly. “Yes … who are you?”
The man takes a step forward. “Park Yoochun. You can call me your guardian angel, of sorts.”
“‘Guardian angel’?” Changmin raises a brow skeptically. He’s cold, tired and shivering to the skin, but there’s no way he can walk just by him. He still has morals. “You’re guarding me from what exactly?”
Yoochun walks past him, patting his shoulder. “You’ll know. I have to go now.”
As Changmin turns around, Yoochun’s gone, door bolted shut as if he didn’t use it to leave the house. Changmin doesn’t like the man one bit, but he has this nagging feeling that wouldn’t be the last time he’ll see him.
Changmin sighs and strips himself from all clothes, lying down on his bed and trying to forget his problems. Screw taking a shower - why would he bathe in freezing water when he’s already shivering himself and is in need of some bed warmth?
*
Yunho lays awake in his room, eyes unblinking as an onslaught of memories takes over his mind. Memories of him with Jaejoong, Junsu and Changmin. Especially Changmin.
Changmin was snarky, yes, but had such a huge soft spot for Yunho to the point that it was almost ridiculous. Yunho always wondered why and had tested multiple theories with Changmin’s behavior around him, but they were all discarded, leaving Yunho even more confused.
Why was Changmin like an obedient puppy and caring mother around him and was a little heathen when it came to Jaejoong and Junsu?
Yunho groans and rolls to his side, hugging his Bambi stuff toy close to his chest. He can’t really ask him anymore, now that they’d separated.
A couple of knocks on the door catches his attention. He jerks up into a sitting position and clears his throat. “Who is it?” he whispers, because he knows that even though it’s only a quarter past ten, most of the mafia are asleep.
The door opens and Yunho relaxes when he notices it’s Junsu. He just can’t deal with Jaejoong right now. Junsu smiles and closes the door behind him, going over to the bed and sitting down on the space Yunho made for him. He leans against Yunho and closes his eyes. “How are you?”
Yunho sighs and absentmindedly strokes Bambi’s head. “If I’m lying, perfectly fine. To tell the truth, trying to figure out Changmin.”
Junsu chuckles. “Even after all this time?”
Yunho shrugs and summons a weak smile. “Never stopped.” His smile drops as quickly as it had come.
Junsu sighs. “Hyung, I know what you’re thinking.”
“Do you, now?” Yunho can’t help but shoot back.
Junsu stays firm. “Yes.”
Yunho lets out a short laugh and lies on the bed, staring at the ceiling again. “Enlighten me.”
Junsu purses his lips. He turns around so that Yunho can see him from his peripheral vision and takes Yunho’s free hand into his, playing with his long fingers. “You’re scared.”
“No. I’m not,” Yunho lies. “I’m just … nervous.”
“Nervous? What for?” Junsu rubs the callous bumps on Yunho’s fingers. “That you have to kill Changmin?” The fingers in his hand make a slight jerk, as though Yunho had wanted to pull them away, but thinks better of it.
Yunho closes his eyes. “Yes.”
“You’re scared, hyung,” Junsu repeats, letting go of Yunho’s hand and lying down next to him, staring at the ceiling as well. “I know you long enough. You only say you’re nervous when you’re scared, and you only say you’re nervous when you’re worried, and you don’t even say anything when you’re worried. Don’t lie to me.”
Yunho doesn’t say anything. How can he respond to that?
Junsu rolls over to his side and fixes a sad gaze on Yunho. “Hyung, you can cry, it’s okay.”
Yunho looks at him and blinks. “What?”
“Jaejoong hyung’s crying. Right now.” Ignoring Yunho’s look of shock, Junsu continues. “He was trying to hold in his cries right before we left. I passed his office on the way to your room, and I can hear him bawling right out like a baby.”
“Jaejoong?” Yunho raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Really?”
Junsu rolls his eyes. “Okay, not really. But he was crying and I feel kinda bad. Though I shouldn’t actually. I think this is his second time.”
Both Yunho and Junsu knows about Jaejoong’s stupid ‘Men Can Only Cry Three Times in Their Lives’ rule he had established back in high school, two weeks after they all had met.
“Can’t wait to see the third,” Yunho mutters, tears already trickling down his face.
Junsu envelops him into a hug and Yunho sobs quietly into his chest, wailing about the unfairness of it all. He doesn’t really give a damn about waking up the mafia anymore anyway.
*
Disembodied whispers are all he can hear. There’s nothing but purple mist around him. He feels cold sweat running down the back of his neck. Changmin swallows heavily as he takes in the surroundings. Looking down, he swallows down out a yelp of shock when he realizes he doesn’t even seem to be standing on anything. Levitating, perhaps.
Changmin tears his gaze away from the bottomless floor and shivers. Where the hell is he? Well, wherever he is, he sure as hell doesn’t want to stay.
He looks back down and takes a frightened step forward, relieved that the ‘floor’ doesn’t give way and that he isn’t immobilized. Being unable to move is one of his brain’s favorite ways to torture him in a nightmare. That’s what he’s in now, right? Just a nightmare?
He takes a few more steps, the soft padding of his bare feet accompanying the whispers. They’re getting louder, and Changmin’s getting colder, so he pulls his jacket closer towards him and continues to walk.
An eternity seems to pass, and it doesn’t even look like he’s moving. In fact, the mist that greets him is still moving in a languid pace, as if Changmin had just been staring at them and not moving at all. “Where the hell am I?” he asks to himself, crouching down and hugging himself as tightly as possible.
“Changmin-sshi? What are you doing here?”
Changmin really does scream this time. The voice was sudden, so sudden that Changmin slips from the too-long sweatpants he’s wearing, tumbling to the ‘floor’ with a groan. “Ah, fuck,” he mutters.
“Now now, don’t curse. It’s rude.” The voice sounds amused and pitying, but mostly amused.
Changmin sits up and catches sight of a person standing - no, sitting - in front of him, hovering about ten inches off the ‘floor’. He blinks at Changmin through kohl-rimmed eyes and takes a sip of tea.
“Oh, great. It’s you.”
Yoochun frowns. “That’s not very nice to say to someone in his own home.” A table pops out of nowhere and Yoochun sets his cup down, digging his hand in the box. “Tea?” he offers, holding up a teabag.
“Wait, what?” Changmin scrambles to his feet. Did he hear Yoochun correctly? His own home?
Yoochun blinks. “Tea?” he repeats, holding the teabag higher. “I know you want some, you don’t have to lie. But I recall you preferring coffee more than tea …” He makes to stand up. “Wait, I’ll go get some.”
“Forget about drinks!” Changmin all but yells. “Your own home? What are you talking about?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Yoochun mutters, flopping back with a huff. Apparently he doesn’t like being yelled at. “As your guardian angel, I have to be close to you twenty-four-seven so that I’ll know when you’re in trouble.”
“But in my dreams?” Changmin raises an eyebrow.
Yoochun glares at him. “Hey, you try living in the head of some pervert who thinks about screwing one of his ex-best friends to the ground every six minutes!”
Changmin turns bright red. “I do not!”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Yoochun leans back. “You think about it every six seconds.”
With a cry of indignation, Changmin stomps hard and forces himself to wake up. He’s successful, for he finds himself gasping for air and cold sweat running down his neck.
“Stupid guardian angel,” he growls, glaring at the ceiling as if it’s the cause of his encounter. He turns to his side and closes his eyes again, muttering quiet curses he knows Yoochun can hear.
*
The sound of footsteps greet his ears, and Yunho furrows his eyebrows slightly as he tries to block out the sound. His efforts prove futile when the footsteps now sound similar to a metal bucket propped over his head and being banged repeatedly with a metal stick.
It’s not the best metaphor, but Yunho always feels like shit the next morning after crying himself to sleep the night before.
The door to his quarters swings open, but Yunho just can’t be bothered to see who it is at the moment. He turns to his side, away from the sunrays that are suddenly persistent to shine at him, and feels a warm something next to him. Though it’s surprising but not unwelcomed, Yunho snuggles into the warmth, breathing a sigh of relief.
“You know, if you guys wanted to screw, you should’ve told me long ago.”
Yunho tenses visibly when he recognizes Jaejoong’s voice. He opens his eyes and finds himself face-to-face with a dozing Junsu. Yunho softens at the sight and smoothens his hair. Junsu had always been very motherly to him, and Yunho is once again grateful that Junsu had kept him company for the night.
Remembering another presence in the room, Yunho leans on his elbow and looks up, finding Jaejoong leaning against the doorway and sucking on a cigarette. Yunho sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes. “It’s too early to smoke, Jaejoong,” he groans.
“Au contraire, O Dimwitted One,” Jaejoong responds lazily, not smiling despite the amusement clear in his tone. “It’s never too late for anything.”
“Yes, it is,” Yunho pouts.
Jaejoong looks at him skeptically. “Oh yeah?” He goes over to Yunho and takes another long drag, blowing the smoke at Yunho’s face, his amusement doubling when Yunho chokes and splutters. “Name one thing that’s too early to do in the morning. This should be interesting.”
Yunho screws up his face and wrinkles his nose as he breathes in through his mouth, trying to block out the cancerous smell. “For one thing, there’s …” He trails off, and from the corner of his eyes he can see Jaejoong smirking at him. Yunho pouts again. He’s never been able to one-up Jaejoong in an argument.
“There’s …?” Jaejoong trails off as well, expecting Yunho to continue his statement.
Yunho looks away from him. “Nothing. Let’s go, shall we?”
Jaejoong snorts as he watches Yunho get off the bed without rousing Junsu awake. “Your call, Jung,” he sighs, flicking ashes onto Yunho’s table and earning a dirty glare from the slightly younger man.
Jaejoong makes it to the doorway when he remembers something important, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “Oh right.” He looks behind and sees Yunho stripping off his sleeping wear and pulling on his jeans. Members of the mafia don’t have to be in suits when there’s nothing to discuss within the company or there’s no one to negotiate or impress.
“Your mission’s been pushed to tonight and can only be completed within three days. Cho’s getting incredibly tense with the deal.” He grins as Yunho drops his shirt in shock. “Just ought to let you know.”
He leaves Yunho’s room with a smile and a jerk of his head, indicating that he wants to be followed. Yunho swallows, frozen. Can he really kill Changmin? After all this time, what with Changmin breaking up their friendship and then reporting them (thankfully they managed to get away).
Yunho swallows again, more painfully this time, and closes his eyes as the bitter reality sets in.
Yes.
Yes, he can.
*
A/N: Okay I lied. But hey it’s much better to see Jaejoong as a heartless bastard than one who breaks down and cries every five minutes.
Eeeee vaguelynormal commented on the previous chapter~ 8D *spazz*
I restructured this chapter entirely, so if there’s something that doesn’t connect or doesn’t make sense, please don’t hesitate to let me know so I can change it >_<
This chapter was finished, edited and posted earlier than I would’ve liked. I’m going to take a one- to two-week hiatus because I have preparation exams and it helps me gauge my ability to do well in my Finals or not (hopefully I will). See you guys in two weeks! ^_^