consuming darkness ; chapter 2
Title: consuming darkness
Pairings: Leeteuk/Yesung, onesided!Ryeowook/Yesung
Rating: R
Genre: Action, Thriller, Gang!AU
Word Count: 3,280
Summary: In a world where everyone wears a mask to hide their true selves, nothing seems wrong, but neither does anything seem right. The individuals trapped in this interwoven web of deceit are the ones who have to figure out the truth behind every lie. But then again, are their judgements always right?
Warnings: Violence, character death, and blood. Lots and lots of blood.
In the dark alley where the malfunctioning street light flickered in a dying manner, two men were engaged in a low conversation. The taller one of the pair was dressed snugly in a trench coat to protect himself from the cold, along with a black fedora that covered his face adequately. Meanwhile, the other had a shabby appearance, but appeared to have a larger build than the first man, his exposed arms muscular and covered with a large amount of tattoos of various shapes, sizes, and colours.
“I assure ya, this is of the highest quality. Ya won’t be disappointed with how well this baby works,” the shorter man boasted with a toothless grin, his tooth having been punched out in a massive brawl several years ago. He didn’t find the need to patch it up, however. It was one of his ‘trophies’ that proved his experience in the turbulent underworld.
The man in the fedora was taciturn as he continued to inspect the object in his hands, from the grip, to the trigger, to the barrel. “It doesn’t seem too convincing, though,” he murmured, eyes still fixed on the object that he was toying around with. “I’ve seen much better guns in my life, and this doesn’t even cut the mark.”
“Look, ya can test it out if ya wanna, but I ain’t gonna provide the magazine,” was the retort, sounding very much irritated.
“Test it out?” he echoed with an amused smile, as he continued to finger the cold metal surface of the gun in deep thought. The shorter one of the pair gasped when he was suddenly engaged in a head lock, and beads of cold sweat started rolling down the sides of his scarred face when his attacker pressed the muzzle of the gun against his temple.
“W… what the fuck d’ya think ya’re doing?” he stuttered. The gangster gulped when his skin was depressed further by the gun, this time triggering his pain receptors. I don’t wanna die!, his mind screamed, though he kept up a calm farce.
He refused to admit that he was about to wet his pants because of the situation.
“You were the one who asked me to test it out,” his attacker said as-a-matter-of-factly; almost innocently, even. “I hate wasting bullets on inanimate objects or the thin air, so I might as well test it out on you.”
“Ya wouldn’t dare…! Ya don’t even have bullets!”
The taller man’s grip tightened around the gangster’s neck, effectively strangling him. The reflection of the lower half of the man’s face on the gun’s body revealed a dangerous smile. The gangster stiffened even more when his client lowered himself to whisper in his ear.
“Really now? Shall we test your theory out?” he simply stated, voice dripping with smugness and a certain level of threat.
The clicking sound of the hammer being cocked reverberated in the air, and the tattooed man found himself yelling out, terrified. The years of experience enabled him to recognise when a gun was loaded. “Alright, alright! I’ll provide ya with the necessary ammunitions! I’ll even throw in a silencer just for ya! How does that sound?”
The shorter man heaved a sigh of relief when his client finally released his hold around his neck. The latter adjusted his fedora with a slight smile on his face, revealing a dimple on his left cheek. He pocketed the gun and held out his left hand as a signal for the gangster to hand over the promised goods, causing the gangster to make some disgruntled noises before he reached for his stash which lay abandoned on the filthy floor.
“It’s a pleasure doing business with you,” the taller man tipped his hat ever so slightly, before ambling away towards the mouth of the alley.
The gangster stood rooted in his spot even after his client was long gone, trying to decide why the hell his customer looked familiar to him. This was the first time that the man had approached him for artillery, but he couldn’t put a finger on where he had seen the man before.
In the end, he could no longer be bothered by the minute details that didn’t matter at all to him, and decided to call it a day. I’m gettin’ too old to be involved in this business, he thought dryly to himself.
..｡.:*:.｡..｡.:*:.｡..
The man with ebony hair that blended in with the acidic darkness crouched down low behind a tree, listening closely for any possible movements. He peered around the tree when there was a slight ruffling of dead leaves in the distance, causing his ears to twitch in response. It was literally second nature to him by now.
His hawk-like eyes scanned the surroundings, pupils dilating as they adjusted to the dark. The prey tonight was a more dangerous figure - a drug overlord who had conveniently set foot in this city and had laid claim on the territory. Despite the fact that there were two rival gangs who ruled the city in the dark, none of them had ever overtly showed themselves. Only those who have dwelled here long enough, or are part of either of those gangs, knew about their existence. The drug lord definitely had not done his research.
Being in stealth mode didn’t mean that they tolerated idiots, however. And this self-proclaimed drug overlord evidently had no idea that he was playing with fire - or rather, two bosses with a very short fuse.
The moment a shadow walked into sight, the corner of Yesung’s lips pulled up into a smirk. Reaching under his coat, his small hand wrapped securely around the hilt of his trusted weapon. His target seemed to be without his minions, which Yesung very much appreciated. He didn’t like getting disturbed when he was charging towards his prey, especially if the disturbance was nothing more than a waste of time.
Seeing that the man looked like a lost lamb in the darkness of the city - it was fairly easy for a person to lose their way if they weren’t familiar with the nooks and crannies - Yesung waited patiently for the obese man to stumble in his direction.
And then he bolted for his target.
..｡.:*:.｡..｡.:*:.｡..
He lounged in the armchair which stood at a corner of the room, his fingers brushing against his lower lip in an absentminded manner. Even though he was dead tired and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, he couldn’t.
Another man was tossing and turning on his bed, muttering feverishly in his dreams. His jet-black hair was matted with sweat, and was stuck limply against the sides of his pale face. He seemed to be in the pain, but the owner couldn’t be sure. Neither did he want to administer painkillers unnecessarily.
For an hour he sat in silence, eyes unmoving from the figure who was still thrashing about on the bed. He was about to doze off when the man sprang up with a loud yell. The unknown man sat there for a couple of moments, panting hard from whatever nightmare he had had. His expressions were bewildered, but when he returned to his senses, he clenched his teeth in pain. His left hand flew up to the bandaged area over his right chest.
“You’re awake,” the owner of the room said, though he had a frown on his handsome face when he noticed the blood on the sheets. “You might want to go easy on the movements, though. That is, unless, if you’d like to bleed to death,” he shrugged, but made no move to walk towards the bed.
“Where am I?” the other man spoke up in a whisper. His jaw was still clenched tightly, as if trying to physically bite back the pain.
“My room. I saw you lying in a pool of blood on the streets with a bullet hole in your chest, and I couldn’t possibly leave you alone.”
“You could’ve just… called for an ambulance… and be done with it…” the man who was topless breathed again, his lips as pale as they could ever get.
“And what? Risk getting you interrogated by the police force? Sure, if that’s what you want to happen to you,” came the slightly annoyed retort. “I assumed that you were from one of the gangs since you had a dagger in hand.”
At the mention of his weapon, a dangerous gleam flashed in the still-bleeding man’s eyes. He was quick to reach for the weapon which was placed on the night table (quite the stupid move, if he might add), and before his so-called saviour could react, the silver blade was already held against the latter’s throat.
“Who are you?” The attacker hissed, and the slight jerk of his hand drew blood from his victim’s skin. “You know way too much to be a normal civilian.”
The man who was seated heaved a sigh. “This is what I get for being a Good Samaritan these days. How wonderful,” he deadpanned.
“I am not a person who would settle for niceties,” he hissed again, in a mixture of anger and agony. The sweat was still rolling down the sides of his face, stinging his wound when the moisture seeped under the bandage. “Now tell me… who the hell are you?”
“Park Jungsoo-” the other man retorted, and within the next moment, he had escaped from the threat hanging over his carotid. He pinned his assailant down by tugging on his right arm. From his years of police training, he knew how to incapacitate an armed but wounded fugitive. He smirked and leaned in to whisper in the other man’s ear. “-and I am not a helpless puppy. What do you think you can achieve with your non-dominant hand?”
“Oh you’d be surprised, you dog of the police force.”
Jungsoo sensed the warning bells in his head go off at that statement, and managed to put a safe distance between him and the injured man just as he swung his knife backwards. Judging by the man’s intonation, he had recognised his name. He certainly didn’t fancy having a dagger piercing through his lung.
“Tsk,” Jungsoo spat in annoyance when he noticed the slight gash on his arm. “You sure are feisty for someone who’s so badly wounded, aren’t you?”
“This is nothing. I’d do anything to get rid of another dog from the police.” The injured man hissed again.
“I share your sentiments, but unfortunately - or rather, fortunately - I’m no longer a part of the force,” Jungsoo shrugged, not the least bit perturbed that he might lose his life at any given time.
“That still doesn’t change the fact that you were a part of those useless lapdogs in there.”
Jungsoo rolled his eyes. “My fondness for the force is as far as yours gets, but I suppose you’re not one for details?” he mused. “That aside, I need a name to pin on you.”
The other man narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the former police inspector, feeling sceptical at the supposed dislike Jungsoo had for his former employers. “Yesung-” he blurted out before he could stop himself, however, then blinked when he realised what he had just said. “Why the hell am I telling you this again?”
“Beats me,” he shrugged. “Anyway, if you could just sit still for a moment, Yesung, I’ll get a friend of mine to take a look at your wound,” Jungsoo waved him off with a too-happy smile as he started for the door, completely ignoring Yesung’s protests that ensued.
The other man could only stare in disbelief as the door was shut in his face.
..｡.:*:.｡..｡.:*:.｡..
Jungsoo returned to his room with a doctor friend in tow not half an hour later, face grim as he discussed about the man he had found on the streets. Of course, he had no idea how high of a status the man had in the underworld, but he gauged that this Yesung person was probably a very skilful assassin. He could very well be at the top of the pecking order.
However, the moment he unlocked the door and found the curtains fluttering in the night breeze, he whirled around and ran a hand through his brown hair in frustration. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “That stubborn prick just can’t stay put, can he?”
..｡.:*:.｡..｡.:*:.｡..
He staggered through the darkness in a dazed manner, nearly finding his face plastered on the damp grass several times because his sense of vision failed on him. His attention was completely invested on that damned wound on his chest, where some bastard had shot him when he had least expected it.
When he thought about it, he was sure that his target wasn’t the one who committed the deed. He remembered how the drug overlord gave close to no resistance (he didn’t have the opportunity to respond) as he drove his blade through the fat man’s chest. There was also some memory of himself watching as the man drowned from his own blood, and he had specifically bent down to check on the obese corpse.
There was absolutely no pulse in that man. It was virtually impossible for him to spring back to life and put a bullet through his flesh. Yesung wasn’t about to doubt his own abilities in finishing the job, either.
He therefore forced himself to focus through the pain radiating from his wound. Forget that you’re about to drop unconscious, he told himself, you’ve been in more excruciating pain before.
It was essential for him to recall the details. Knowing himself, he wouldn’t be able to live it down if he were to brush the matter aside. It would also threaten his reputation.
And then it struck him like a heavily-landed uppercut. He had been preparing to leave the scene and the aftermath of his deeds behind, when his ears picked up the sound of a bullet swishing through the air. He was lucky to have angled his body just in time to avoid sustaining a life-threatening injury. He must’ve passed out immediately after being ambushed, however.
Yesung couldn’t deny that having a bullet lodged in his flesh was uncomfortable as hell. He swore to give the shooter - whoever the fuck this spineless bastard was, he added mentally - hell when he dug his identity up. And then he’ll send the prick six feet under.
As his mind was still filled with ghoulish ways to exact his revenge on his unknown attacker, Yesung pushed through the familiar pair of doors irascibly. “Ryeowook!” he called out with the last of his might; the blood loss was extensive, he guessed. But he had to brace himself for the incoming verbal annihilation.
He was barely able to kick the doors shut and settled himself against the wall, when a scrawny-looking man with high cheekbones and fairly long platinum blond hair came scuttling into the area with a questioning look on his face.
That expression was however promptly replaced with shock when he noticed Yesung picking at the blood-soaked bandages wrapped clumsily over his right arm and over his chest.
It took all but five seconds for the man called Ryeowook to start dragging the assassin towards the treatment room, which was located on the ground floor of the gigantic mansion. The odd pair received weird stares from everyone else that were on their path, but one glare from Yesung was more than adequate to send them back to minding their own business.
“Ryeowook, let me go. I can walk just fine,” Yesung grumbled, feeling indignant at the treatment he was receiving from the smaller man. The other merely scowled at him, and completely ignored his request. Yesung heaved a sigh, knowing perfectly that Ryeowook wasn’t exactly in the mood to be entertaining him. The worry was clearly reflected in the latter’s eyes.
Yesung wasn’t usually one who came back with injuries like this after his missions, after all.
When they had finally set foot in the treatment room - which smelled as though it had just been doused in a gallon of antiseptics - Ryeowook slammed the door and shot another dark look at Yesung. “What the hell happened to you, Jong-”
“Don’t you dare mention that name under this roof,” Yesung snapped before the other man could even finish his sentence. Nevertheless, he good-naturedly dropped himself onto the bed when Ryeowook frowned, then nodded in understanding.
“So back to my question - what happened?” Ryeowook quietly spoke up as he got down to work. He delicately began to peel off the remaining bandages, trying not to cause even more pain to his friend. “Did your target do this?”
“No,” he scoffed. “Man was too fat to even walk properly.”
Ryeowook chuckled a little at the face Yesung made. “Then what? Trouble with the police?”
“I’d have a field trip killing them if that were the case. But no, I have no idea who the hell did this.”
Ryeowook stopped in the middle of picking the bullet casing out of Yesung’s wound, staring at the older man in disbelief. “Are you serious? This isn’t a joking manner, hyung.”
“Am I someone who jokes around with something like that?” he demanded with a frown. Ryeowook shook his head. “I was ambushed,” Yesung then added with a sigh.
“The person who did this is either very daring, or very stupid,” Ryeowook commented as he returned his attention onto the wound. “This is going to hurt quite a bit,” he shot a brief glance at Yesung, whom nodded and clenched his jaw in anticipation.
Yesung’s knuckles turned white, and his eyes were permanently clamped shut when the forceps reached into his flesh. The pain that accompanied the friction generated by the bullet was excruciating, to the point that he was about to pass out.
Nevertheless, Ryeowook made quick work out of it, extracting the foreign body with great expertise. It was something that he was already used to, being the sole medical professional working in the underworld. His fellow gang members always walked in with cuts, bruises and other insane wounds, and he would always patch them up diligently.
Fighting and aggression wasn’t Ryeowook’s cup of tea, but he owed it to the person whom he was currently attending to for his current situation.
“Hurts like a bitch, damn it,” Yesung hissed, his breathing still erratic from the experience. He groaned when he caught sight of Ryeowook reaching for the antiseptics. “Can I be spared from that? I’ve lost enough blood as it is.”
Ryeowook had an amused smile on his face at the sound of the request. “You can withstand all the pain from your injuries, yet you’re still scared of iodine? Come on.”
“It’s an entirely different matter!”
“You have had iodine over your wounds way too many times. Seriously, Yesungie hyung. What do you think the others would say about you if they found out about this little weakness of yours?”
Yesung shot up from the bed at the threat, though he immediately regretted it when the pain shot through his senses again. “Don’t you dare utter a single word about it, Kim Ryeowook,” he warned when most of the pain died down.
“Fine, fine. Whatever you say,” Ryeowook laughed, but moved to pin Yesung down with a stern look on his face when the man attempted to wriggle away from the antiseptic-soaked gauze.
He would never understand Yesung’s aversion for the brown liquid.
Pairings: Leeteuk/Yesung, onesided!Ryeowook/Yesung
Rating: R
Genre: Action, Thriller, Gang!AU
Word Count: 3,280
Summary: In a world where everyone wears a mask to hide their true selves, nothing seems wrong, but neither does anything seem right. The individuals trapped in this interwoven web of deceit are the ones who have to figure out the truth behind every lie. But then again, are their judgements always right?
Warnings: Violence, character death, and blood. Lots and lots of blood.
In the dark alley where the malfunctioning street light flickered in a dying manner, two men were engaged in a low conversation. The taller one of the pair was dressed snugly in a trench coat to protect himself from the cold, along with a black fedora that covered his face adequately. Meanwhile, the other had a shabby appearance, but appeared to have a larger build than the first man, his exposed arms muscular and covered with a large amount of tattoos of various shapes, sizes, and colours.
“I assure ya, this is of the highest quality. Ya won’t be disappointed with how well this baby works,” the shorter man boasted with a toothless grin, his tooth having been punched out in a massive brawl several years ago. He didn’t find the need to patch it up, however. It was one of his ‘trophies’ that proved his experience in the turbulent underworld.
The man in the fedora was taciturn as he continued to inspect the object in his hands, from the grip, to the trigger, to the barrel. “It doesn’t seem too convincing, though,” he murmured, eyes still fixed on the object that he was toying around with. “I’ve seen much better guns in my life, and this doesn’t even cut the mark.”
“Look, ya can test it out if ya wanna, but I ain’t gonna provide the magazine,” was the retort, sounding very much irritated.
“Test it out?” he echoed with an amused smile, as he continued to finger the cold metal surface of the gun in deep thought. The shorter one of the pair gasped when he was suddenly engaged in a head lock, and beads of cold sweat started rolling down the sides of his scarred face when his attacker pressed the muzzle of the gun against his temple.
“W… what the fuck d’ya think ya’re doing?” he stuttered. The gangster gulped when his skin was depressed further by the gun, this time triggering his pain receptors. I don’t wanna die!, his mind screamed, though he kept up a calm farce.
He refused to admit that he was about to wet his pants because of the situation.
“You were the one who asked me to test it out,” his attacker said as-a-matter-of-factly; almost innocently, even. “I hate wasting bullets on inanimate objects or the thin air, so I might as well test it out on you.”
“Ya wouldn’t dare…! Ya don’t even have bullets!”
The taller man’s grip tightened around the gangster’s neck, effectively strangling him. The reflection of the lower half of the man’s face on the gun’s body revealed a dangerous smile. The gangster stiffened even more when his client lowered himself to whisper in his ear.
“Really now? Shall we test your theory out?” he simply stated, voice dripping with smugness and a certain level of threat.
The clicking sound of the hammer being cocked reverberated in the air, and the tattooed man found himself yelling out, terrified. The years of experience enabled him to recognise when a gun was loaded. “Alright, alright! I’ll provide ya with the necessary ammunitions! I’ll even throw in a silencer just for ya! How does that sound?”
The shorter man heaved a sigh of relief when his client finally released his hold around his neck. The latter adjusted his fedora with a slight smile on his face, revealing a dimple on his left cheek. He pocketed the gun and held out his left hand as a signal for the gangster to hand over the promised goods, causing the gangster to make some disgruntled noises before he reached for his stash which lay abandoned on the filthy floor.
“It’s a pleasure doing business with you,” the taller man tipped his hat ever so slightly, before ambling away towards the mouth of the alley.
The gangster stood rooted in his spot even after his client was long gone, trying to decide why the hell his customer looked familiar to him. This was the first time that the man had approached him for artillery, but he couldn’t put a finger on where he had seen the man before.
In the end, he could no longer be bothered by the minute details that didn’t matter at all to him, and decided to call it a day. I’m gettin’ too old to be involved in this business, he thought dryly to himself.
..｡.:*:.｡..｡.:*:.｡..
The man with ebony hair that blended in with the acidic darkness crouched down low behind a tree, listening closely for any possible movements. He peered around the tree when there was a slight ruffling of dead leaves in the distance, causing his ears to twitch in response. It was literally second nature to him by now.
His hawk-like eyes scanned the surroundings, pupils dilating as they adjusted to the dark. The prey tonight was a more dangerous figure - a drug overlord who had conveniently set foot in this city and had laid claim on the territory. Despite the fact that there were two rival gangs who ruled the city in the dark, none of them had ever overtly showed themselves. Only those who have dwelled here long enough, or are part of either of those gangs, knew about their existence. The drug lord definitely had not done his research.
Being in stealth mode didn’t mean that they tolerated idiots, however. And this self-proclaimed drug overlord evidently had no idea that he was playing with fire - or rather, two bosses with a very short fuse.
The moment a shadow walked into sight, the corner of Yesung’s lips pulled up into a smirk. Reaching under his coat, his small hand wrapped securely around the hilt of his trusted weapon. His target seemed to be without his minions, which Yesung very much appreciated. He didn’t like getting disturbed when he was charging towards his prey, especially if the disturbance was nothing more than a waste of time.
Seeing that the man looked like a lost lamb in the darkness of the city - it was fairly easy for a person to lose their way if they weren’t familiar with the nooks and crannies - Yesung waited patiently for the obese man to stumble in his direction.
And then he bolted for his target.
..｡.:*:.｡..｡.:*:.｡..
He lounged in the armchair which stood at a corner of the room, his fingers brushing against his lower lip in an absentminded manner. Even though he was dead tired and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, he couldn’t.
Another man was tossing and turning on his bed, muttering feverishly in his dreams. His jet-black hair was matted with sweat, and was stuck limply against the sides of his pale face. He seemed to be in the pain, but the owner couldn’t be sure. Neither did he want to administer painkillers unnecessarily.
For an hour he sat in silence, eyes unmoving from the figure who was still thrashing about on the bed. He was about to doze off when the man sprang up with a loud yell. The unknown man sat there for a couple of moments, panting hard from whatever nightmare he had had. His expressions were bewildered, but when he returned to his senses, he clenched his teeth in pain. His left hand flew up to the bandaged area over his right chest.
“You’re awake,” the owner of the room said, though he had a frown on his handsome face when he noticed the blood on the sheets. “You might want to go easy on the movements, though. That is, unless, if you’d like to bleed to death,” he shrugged, but made no move to walk towards the bed.
“Where am I?” the other man spoke up in a whisper. His jaw was still clenched tightly, as if trying to physically bite back the pain.
“My room. I saw you lying in a pool of blood on the streets with a bullet hole in your chest, and I couldn’t possibly leave you alone.”
“You could’ve just… called for an ambulance… and be done with it…” the man who was topless breathed again, his lips as pale as they could ever get.
“And what? Risk getting you interrogated by the police force? Sure, if that’s what you want to happen to you,” came the slightly annoyed retort. “I assumed that you were from one of the gangs since you had a dagger in hand.”
At the mention of his weapon, a dangerous gleam flashed in the still-bleeding man’s eyes. He was quick to reach for the weapon which was placed on the night table (quite the stupid move, if he might add), and before his so-called saviour could react, the silver blade was already held against the latter’s throat.
“Who are you?” The attacker hissed, and the slight jerk of his hand drew blood from his victim’s skin. “You know way too much to be a normal civilian.”
The man who was seated heaved a sigh. “This is what I get for being a Good Samaritan these days. How wonderful,” he deadpanned.
“I am not a person who would settle for niceties,” he hissed again, in a mixture of anger and agony. The sweat was still rolling down the sides of his face, stinging his wound when the moisture seeped under the bandage. “Now tell me… who the hell are you?”
“Park Jungsoo-” the other man retorted, and within the next moment, he had escaped from the threat hanging over his carotid. He pinned his assailant down by tugging on his right arm. From his years of police training, he knew how to incapacitate an armed but wounded fugitive. He smirked and leaned in to whisper in the other man’s ear. “-and I am not a helpless puppy. What do you think you can achieve with your non-dominant hand?”
“Oh you’d be surprised, you dog of the police force.”
Jungsoo sensed the warning bells in his head go off at that statement, and managed to put a safe distance between him and the injured man just as he swung his knife backwards. Judging by the man’s intonation, he had recognised his name. He certainly didn’t fancy having a dagger piercing through his lung.
“Tsk,” Jungsoo spat in annoyance when he noticed the slight gash on his arm. “You sure are feisty for someone who’s so badly wounded, aren’t you?”
“This is nothing. I’d do anything to get rid of another dog from the police.” The injured man hissed again.
“I share your sentiments, but unfortunately - or rather, fortunately - I’m no longer a part of the force,” Jungsoo shrugged, not the least bit perturbed that he might lose his life at any given time.
“That still doesn’t change the fact that you were a part of those useless lapdogs in there.”
Jungsoo rolled his eyes. “My fondness for the force is as far as yours gets, but I suppose you’re not one for details?” he mused. “That aside, I need a name to pin on you.”
The other man narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the former police inspector, feeling sceptical at the supposed dislike Jungsoo had for his former employers. “Yesung-” he blurted out before he could stop himself, however, then blinked when he realised what he had just said. “Why the hell am I telling you this again?”
“Beats me,” he shrugged. “Anyway, if you could just sit still for a moment, Yesung, I’ll get a friend of mine to take a look at your wound,” Jungsoo waved him off with a too-happy smile as he started for the door, completely ignoring Yesung’s protests that ensued.
The other man could only stare in disbelief as the door was shut in his face.
..｡.:*:.｡..｡.:*:.｡..
Jungsoo returned to his room with a doctor friend in tow not half an hour later, face grim as he discussed about the man he had found on the streets. Of course, he had no idea how high of a status the man had in the underworld, but he gauged that this Yesung person was probably a very skilful assassin. He could very well be at the top of the pecking order.
However, the moment he unlocked the door and found the curtains fluttering in the night breeze, he whirled around and ran a hand through his brown hair in frustration. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “That stubborn prick just can’t stay put, can he?”
..｡.:*:.｡..｡.:*:.｡..
He staggered through the darkness in a dazed manner, nearly finding his face plastered on the damp grass several times because his sense of vision failed on him. His attention was completely invested on that damned wound on his chest, where some bastard had shot him when he had least expected it.
When he thought about it, he was sure that his target wasn’t the one who committed the deed. He remembered how the drug overlord gave close to no resistance (he didn’t have the opportunity to respond) as he drove his blade through the fat man’s chest. There was also some memory of himself watching as the man drowned from his own blood, and he had specifically bent down to check on the obese corpse.
There was absolutely no pulse in that man. It was virtually impossible for him to spring back to life and put a bullet through his flesh. Yesung wasn’t about to doubt his own abilities in finishing the job, either.
He therefore forced himself to focus through the pain radiating from his wound. Forget that you’re about to drop unconscious, he told himself, you’ve been in more excruciating pain before.
It was essential for him to recall the details. Knowing himself, he wouldn’t be able to live it down if he were to brush the matter aside. It would also threaten his reputation.
And then it struck him like a heavily-landed uppercut. He had been preparing to leave the scene and the aftermath of his deeds behind, when his ears picked up the sound of a bullet swishing through the air. He was lucky to have angled his body just in time to avoid sustaining a life-threatening injury. He must’ve passed out immediately after being ambushed, however.
Yesung couldn’t deny that having a bullet lodged in his flesh was uncomfortable as hell. He swore to give the shooter - whoever the fuck this spineless bastard was, he added mentally - hell when he dug his identity up. And then he’ll send the prick six feet under.
As his mind was still filled with ghoulish ways to exact his revenge on his unknown attacker, Yesung pushed through the familiar pair of doors irascibly. “Ryeowook!” he called out with the last of his might; the blood loss was extensive, he guessed. But he had to brace himself for the incoming verbal annihilation.
He was barely able to kick the doors shut and settled himself against the wall, when a scrawny-looking man with high cheekbones and fairly long platinum blond hair came scuttling into the area with a questioning look on his face.
That expression was however promptly replaced with shock when he noticed Yesung picking at the blood-soaked bandages wrapped clumsily over his right arm and over his chest.
It took all but five seconds for the man called Ryeowook to start dragging the assassin towards the treatment room, which was located on the ground floor of the gigantic mansion. The odd pair received weird stares from everyone else that were on their path, but one glare from Yesung was more than adequate to send them back to minding their own business.
“Ryeowook, let me go. I can walk just fine,” Yesung grumbled, feeling indignant at the treatment he was receiving from the smaller man. The other merely scowled at him, and completely ignored his request. Yesung heaved a sigh, knowing perfectly that Ryeowook wasn’t exactly in the mood to be entertaining him. The worry was clearly reflected in the latter’s eyes.
Yesung wasn’t usually one who came back with injuries like this after his missions, after all.
When they had finally set foot in the treatment room - which smelled as though it had just been doused in a gallon of antiseptics - Ryeowook slammed the door and shot another dark look at Yesung. “What the hell happened to you, Jong-”
“Don’t you dare mention that name under this roof,” Yesung snapped before the other man could even finish his sentence. Nevertheless, he good-naturedly dropped himself onto the bed when Ryeowook frowned, then nodded in understanding.
“So back to my question - what happened?” Ryeowook quietly spoke up as he got down to work. He delicately began to peel off the remaining bandages, trying not to cause even more pain to his friend. “Did your target do this?”
“No,” he scoffed. “Man was too fat to even walk properly.”
Ryeowook chuckled a little at the face Yesung made. “Then what? Trouble with the police?”
“I’d have a field trip killing them if that were the case. But no, I have no idea who the hell did this.”
Ryeowook stopped in the middle of picking the bullet casing out of Yesung’s wound, staring at the older man in disbelief. “Are you serious? This isn’t a joking manner, hyung.”
“Am I someone who jokes around with something like that?” he demanded with a frown. Ryeowook shook his head. “I was ambushed,” Yesung then added with a sigh.
“The person who did this is either very daring, or very stupid,” Ryeowook commented as he returned his attention onto the wound. “This is going to hurt quite a bit,” he shot a brief glance at Yesung, whom nodded and clenched his jaw in anticipation.
Yesung’s knuckles turned white, and his eyes were permanently clamped shut when the forceps reached into his flesh. The pain that accompanied the friction generated by the bullet was excruciating, to the point that he was about to pass out.
Nevertheless, Ryeowook made quick work out of it, extracting the foreign body with great expertise. It was something that he was already used to, being the sole medical professional working in the underworld. His fellow gang members always walked in with cuts, bruises and other insane wounds, and he would always patch them up diligently.
Fighting and aggression wasn’t Ryeowook’s cup of tea, but he owed it to the person whom he was currently attending to for his current situation.
“Hurts like a bitch, damn it,” Yesung hissed, his breathing still erratic from the experience. He groaned when he caught sight of Ryeowook reaching for the antiseptics. “Can I be spared from that? I’ve lost enough blood as it is.”
Ryeowook had an amused smile on his face at the sound of the request. “You can withstand all the pain from your injuries, yet you’re still scared of iodine? Come on.”
“It’s an entirely different matter!”
“You have had iodine over your wounds way too many times. Seriously, Yesungie hyung. What do you think the others would say about you if they found out about this little weakness of yours?”
Yesung shot up from the bed at the threat, though he immediately regretted it when the pain shot through his senses again. “Don’t you dare utter a single word about it, Kim Ryeowook,” he warned when most of the pain died down.
“Fine, fine. Whatever you say,” Ryeowook laughed, but moved to pin Yesung down with a stern look on his face when the man attempted to wriggle away from the antiseptic-soaked gauze.
He would never understand Yesung’s aversion for the brown liquid.