Abandoned Warehouses are Where the Heart Is
Title: Abandoned Warehouses are Where the Heart Is
Rating: R
Paring: One-sided HanMin [Hangeng/Sungmin]
Warning: Explicit violence, explicit language, character death, mentions of yaoi/boy on boy
Summary: In which HanMin are deadly ninja spies, and Heechul is an asshole
Genre: Ninja!AU, Spy!AU, slight angst, family(maybe?)
Word Count: 1,446
Prompt:011. Rooftops, Hankyung/Sungmin 100 Super Junior Fics Challenge
A/N: This was written at 1:30 in the morning, so please excuse my writing if it gets weird toward the end there. Beta-ed by me while sleepy, so please excuse any mistakes.
-
The heart-stopping second of suspension between rooftops was what kept him going, kept him alive. Because, for that split-second of time, in-between when his boots touched the buildings; during that moment between heartbeats when his stomach was in his throat, and not a single thought could enter his mind, he was free.
-
The cold, wet wind felt good against his flushed skin as he ran, skillfully jumping from rooftop to rooftop; avoiding the occasional clothes line. His bright blue-colored boot insoles scattered gravel, sending the sharp projectiles flying in every which direction. A deep inhale of the wet air had his lungs on fire with passion. His partner, Sungmin, ran just a half step behind him and to the right, their formation a carefully selected safety measure turned constant habit.
“Approaching destination,” The mechanical voice sounded through their earpieces. “Use caution when approaching suspects.”
Hangeng rolled his eyes at the standard warning the computer always popped out when giving instructions. The two of them were well known at the agency as the 'Deadly Duo'. They dealt exclusively with assassinations, and had killed more people than anyone was willing to admit.
As the rusty grey building drew into sight, so did the large amount of suspicious-looking black Escalades. Hangeng suddenly skidded to a silent stop at the edge of the last building, Sungmin beside him in half a heartbeat. He leaned over the edge slightly to get a closer look at the three men standing below them. They were all stocky men of average height and above average muscle content. Sungmin was quickly snapping pictures of their neck tattoos, as the images would come in handy when the bosses had to cover things up later.
The man in the middle, who seemed to be in charge of the other two, lit up a cigarette. As he turned to the side, blowing smoke into the gritty alleyway, Sungmin stiffened. Hangeng immediately noticed the change in his partner stance, and glanced over at the other. Sungmin was suddenly glaring at the man with a hatred that Hangeng had never seen in the other’s eyes.
“His tattoo, its Beijing’s 35th street crypts.” Sungmin answered Hangeng’s unspoken question. “Those bastards killed my parents.”
The words hung heavily in the air, swirling around in Hangeng’s face and choking the life out of the night. He swallowed the words and let them drag his heart down into his stomach, let them fog his brain with previously unknown hatred for the men standing below them. Heechul had sent them into this, he had known the specifics of which gangs were involved, he had known Sungmin’s past. Hangeng was going to march straight into his immediate superior’s office and slap him straight across the face, but that was later, and now he needed to be there for Sungmin.
Hangeng again faced the men below, carefully shifting his weight in preparation. “Then let’s kill them all.”
The two of them acted in sync, leaping from the roof onto the SUVs, quickly snapping the necks of the men standing before them. The last man blinked rapidly, spinning his head in all directions as he tried to find the cause of the others’ demise. He was awarded a combat boot to the head and had his feet swept out from under him. The man yelled out in pain as his head contacted with the oily ground beneath him. He attempted to reach for his gun, but his wrist was broken with a well-placed stomp.
“Who the fuck are you people?!” He screamed at Sungmin as he stood over him.
Sungmin’s upper lip curled into a sneer. “Your worst fucking nightmare.” He placed his boot on the man’s throat, and watched in anticipation as the man’s good hand flew up to claw at the shoe. The man’s eyes began to bulge as Sungmin slowly applied more and more pressure to his neck. Soon, the man’s hyoid bone shattered and the bone shards dug deeply into the surrounding tissue, causing massive internal bleeding. Sungmin removed his foot and watched as the man coughed up blood and slowly suffocated as the arterial spray filled his lungs.
Hangeng simply leaned against the metal siding as he watched his partner practically torture a man to death. The look in Sungmin’s eyes was enough to haunt a person for a lifetime, and spoke more words them Hangeng liked to think about. The eldest pushed himself off the wall and began walking towards the main warehouse, sticking to the dark shadows strewn across the abandoned parking lot like deep gashes in a once happy memory.
After a speedy and treacherous climb to the roof, they gathered around a broken skylight. Inside, more than seventy men were gathered, split into two groups and gathered on opposite ends of a metal table. Two old men in business suits were sitting across from each other, black briefcases clutched tightly between greedy fingers.
According to Heechul, they were rival gangs negotiating a massive drug buy. Hangeng and Sungmin were to make it look like they had all shot each other. Judging by the gigantic amount of firearms present in the room below, the duo’s cover-up job would be rather easy.
Avoiding all of the corresponding bullets aimed at them, however, was another story entirely.
The noisy barrage occurred immediately after the two landed on the table and snapped the bosses’ necks. Hangeng jumped off the table and landed in the back of the group, snapping necks as fast as he could. Experience told him the ones at the back hadn’t seen what happened, and might not ever have the chance to draw their weapons before Hangeng killed them. The ones in front would shoot at each other, make the cleanup much easier, and leaving less men to physically kill. The ones in the middle were likely to shoot their own men in the confusion, wrapping everything up nicely. Hangeng was satisfied with his speed as he finished with his victim just as the last remaining man dropped dead from a gunshot. Hangeng, however, was confused when he heard gunshots still being fired over on Sungmin’s side, as the younger was usually finished before him.
Sungmin, as it turned out, had not followed Hangeng’s usual pattern. He had jumped directly into the middle of the gang, and was busy beating the living shit out of them before finally killing them. As luck would have it, Sungmin’s side was the 35th street crypts, and he was intent on killing them by force.
Hangeng almost rolled his eyes at his partner’s sheer stupidity, but launched himself into the fight anyways. Sungmin was drawing most of their attention, so Hangeng focused on killing the ones who were smart enough to pull out their weapons instead of fighting with their fists. When the rest of the bunch was deemed too stupid to draw their guns, Hangeng sat back on the table and watched Sungmin dispatch the men one by one.
Sungmin nearly danced in circles around the men, punching, kicking, jabbing, and stomping them into submission before snapping their necks with audible force. Hangeng stared at his partner with near reverence, awed at the grace with which the younger killed. One of the men got in a lucky punch to Sungmin’s ribs, and Hangeng’s heart climbed into his throat as he fought the urge to snap the man in two. Sungmin was way ahead of him however, and ripped a gun from someone’s belt, turning to shoot the man right between the eyes. He stopped fighting and shot the last few remaining men.
Hangeng slowly walked over to Sungmin, who was shaking and still pointing the gun at the last man he shot. He enveloped the younger in a hug, and wrestled the gun out of his hand. Sungmin turned to him and clung onto his shirt as he bawled his eyes out onto Hangeng’s shoulder. Hangeng’s heart clenched painfully again, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore. He didn’t want to think about the way the other’s breath on his skin made him feel, or that the way the other fought made him wish Sungmin would walk up to him and pull the eldest into a breath taking kiss. Hangeng forced himself to pull away, forced himself not to cry as well, forced himself to say it would be alright.
As the two of them walked back and forth between the two groups, taking one’s weapons to shoot the other and vice versa, Hangeng wished he was running on the roofs again. He didn’t want to think anymore, didn’t want to feel. He just wanted to run away from it all. The heart-stopping second of suspension between rooftops was what kept him going, kept him alive. Because, for that split-second of time, in-between when his boots touched the buildings; during that moment between heartbeats when his stomach was in his throat, and not a single thought could enter his mind, he was free.
Rating: R
Paring: One-sided HanMin [Hangeng/Sungmin]
Warning: Explicit violence, explicit language, character death, mentions of yaoi/boy on boy
Summary: In which HanMin are deadly ninja spies, and Heechul is an asshole
Genre: Ninja!AU, Spy!AU, slight angst, family(maybe?)
Word Count: 1,446
Prompt:011. Rooftops, Hankyung/Sungmin 100 Super Junior Fics Challenge
A/N: This was written at 1:30 in the morning, so please excuse my writing if it gets weird toward the end there. Beta-ed by me while sleepy, so please excuse any mistakes.
-
The heart-stopping second of suspension between rooftops was what kept him going, kept him alive. Because, for that split-second of time, in-between when his boots touched the buildings; during that moment between heartbeats when his stomach was in his throat, and not a single thought could enter his mind, he was free.
-
The cold, wet wind felt good against his flushed skin as he ran, skillfully jumping from rooftop to rooftop; avoiding the occasional clothes line. His bright blue-colored boot insoles scattered gravel, sending the sharp projectiles flying in every which direction. A deep inhale of the wet air had his lungs on fire with passion. His partner, Sungmin, ran just a half step behind him and to the right, their formation a carefully selected safety measure turned constant habit.
“Approaching destination,” The mechanical voice sounded through their earpieces. “Use caution when approaching suspects.”
Hangeng rolled his eyes at the standard warning the computer always popped out when giving instructions. The two of them were well known at the agency as the 'Deadly Duo'. They dealt exclusively with assassinations, and had killed more people than anyone was willing to admit.
As the rusty grey building drew into sight, so did the large amount of suspicious-looking black Escalades. Hangeng suddenly skidded to a silent stop at the edge of the last building, Sungmin beside him in half a heartbeat. He leaned over the edge slightly to get a closer look at the three men standing below them. They were all stocky men of average height and above average muscle content. Sungmin was quickly snapping pictures of their neck tattoos, as the images would come in handy when the bosses had to cover things up later.
The man in the middle, who seemed to be in charge of the other two, lit up a cigarette. As he turned to the side, blowing smoke into the gritty alleyway, Sungmin stiffened. Hangeng immediately noticed the change in his partner stance, and glanced over at the other. Sungmin was suddenly glaring at the man with a hatred that Hangeng had never seen in the other’s eyes.
“His tattoo, its Beijing’s 35th street crypts.” Sungmin answered Hangeng’s unspoken question. “Those bastards killed my parents.”
The words hung heavily in the air, swirling around in Hangeng’s face and choking the life out of the night. He swallowed the words and let them drag his heart down into his stomach, let them fog his brain with previously unknown hatred for the men standing below them. Heechul had sent them into this, he had known the specifics of which gangs were involved, he had known Sungmin’s past. Hangeng was going to march straight into his immediate superior’s office and slap him straight across the face, but that was later, and now he needed to be there for Sungmin.
Hangeng again faced the men below, carefully shifting his weight in preparation. “Then let’s kill them all.”
The two of them acted in sync, leaping from the roof onto the SUVs, quickly snapping the necks of the men standing before them. The last man blinked rapidly, spinning his head in all directions as he tried to find the cause of the others’ demise. He was awarded a combat boot to the head and had his feet swept out from under him. The man yelled out in pain as his head contacted with the oily ground beneath him. He attempted to reach for his gun, but his wrist was broken with a well-placed stomp.
“Who the fuck are you people?!” He screamed at Sungmin as he stood over him.
Sungmin’s upper lip curled into a sneer. “Your worst fucking nightmare.” He placed his boot on the man’s throat, and watched in anticipation as the man’s good hand flew up to claw at the shoe. The man’s eyes began to bulge as Sungmin slowly applied more and more pressure to his neck. Soon, the man’s hyoid bone shattered and the bone shards dug deeply into the surrounding tissue, causing massive internal bleeding. Sungmin removed his foot and watched as the man coughed up blood and slowly suffocated as the arterial spray filled his lungs.
Hangeng simply leaned against the metal siding as he watched his partner practically torture a man to death. The look in Sungmin’s eyes was enough to haunt a person for a lifetime, and spoke more words them Hangeng liked to think about. The eldest pushed himself off the wall and began walking towards the main warehouse, sticking to the dark shadows strewn across the abandoned parking lot like deep gashes in a once happy memory.
After a speedy and treacherous climb to the roof, they gathered around a broken skylight. Inside, more than seventy men were gathered, split into two groups and gathered on opposite ends of a metal table. Two old men in business suits were sitting across from each other, black briefcases clutched tightly between greedy fingers.
According to Heechul, they were rival gangs negotiating a massive drug buy. Hangeng and Sungmin were to make it look like they had all shot each other. Judging by the gigantic amount of firearms present in the room below, the duo’s cover-up job would be rather easy.
Avoiding all of the corresponding bullets aimed at them, however, was another story entirely.
The noisy barrage occurred immediately after the two landed on the table and snapped the bosses’ necks. Hangeng jumped off the table and landed in the back of the group, snapping necks as fast as he could. Experience told him the ones at the back hadn’t seen what happened, and might not ever have the chance to draw their weapons before Hangeng killed them. The ones in front would shoot at each other, make the cleanup much easier, and leaving less men to physically kill. The ones in the middle were likely to shoot their own men in the confusion, wrapping everything up nicely. Hangeng was satisfied with his speed as he finished with his victim just as the last remaining man dropped dead from a gunshot. Hangeng, however, was confused when he heard gunshots still being fired over on Sungmin’s side, as the younger was usually finished before him.
Sungmin, as it turned out, had not followed Hangeng’s usual pattern. He had jumped directly into the middle of the gang, and was busy beating the living shit out of them before finally killing them. As luck would have it, Sungmin’s side was the 35th street crypts, and he was intent on killing them by force.
Hangeng almost rolled his eyes at his partner’s sheer stupidity, but launched himself into the fight anyways. Sungmin was drawing most of their attention, so Hangeng focused on killing the ones who were smart enough to pull out their weapons instead of fighting with their fists. When the rest of the bunch was deemed too stupid to draw their guns, Hangeng sat back on the table and watched Sungmin dispatch the men one by one.
Sungmin nearly danced in circles around the men, punching, kicking, jabbing, and stomping them into submission before snapping their necks with audible force. Hangeng stared at his partner with near reverence, awed at the grace with which the younger killed. One of the men got in a lucky punch to Sungmin’s ribs, and Hangeng’s heart climbed into his throat as he fought the urge to snap the man in two. Sungmin was way ahead of him however, and ripped a gun from someone’s belt, turning to shoot the man right between the eyes. He stopped fighting and shot the last few remaining men.
Hangeng slowly walked over to Sungmin, who was shaking and still pointing the gun at the last man he shot. He enveloped the younger in a hug, and wrestled the gun out of his hand. Sungmin turned to him and clung onto his shirt as he bawled his eyes out onto Hangeng’s shoulder. Hangeng’s heart clenched painfully again, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore. He didn’t want to think about the way the other’s breath on his skin made him feel, or that the way the other fought made him wish Sungmin would walk up to him and pull the eldest into a breath taking kiss. Hangeng forced himself to pull away, forced himself not to cry as well, forced himself to say it would be alright.
As the two of them walked back and forth between the two groups, taking one’s weapons to shoot the other and vice versa, Hangeng wished he was running on the roofs again. He didn’t want to think anymore, didn’t want to feel. He just wanted to run away from it all. The heart-stopping second of suspension between rooftops was what kept him going, kept him alive. Because, for that split-second of time, in-between when his boots touched the buildings; during that moment between heartbeats when his stomach was in his throat, and not a single thought could enter his mind, he was free.