[Fic] Coming Up From Behind
Title: Coming Up From Behind
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kris/Minseok
Word Count: 10200w
Author Notes: originally written for wufantastic
Summary: Kris' new charge is everything he isn't expecting and everything he needs.
Kris is what the company calls a specialist; he’s the guy who goes in when the situations are more delicate, clients different than your usual politicians or idols or even the occasional government contract for trial witnesses. As a professional bodyguard, he’s seen his fair share (maybe a bit more) of action and in the process earned a few scars to go with the stories, lending a helping hand to his credibility.
He rolls his shoulder, working out the stiffness of an old injury trying to take hold. It’s a consequence of the job - body burning out early but bank balance high enough to keep him comfortable after his inevitable retirement unless he’s taken out of the game first. While every person in his profession hopes to keep their head down long enough to make it to retirement - except that rookie Sehun - not everyone ends up lucky.
It’s a sobering thought, one that drives him to perfection, to cataloging details and moving in strict patterns. He’s never broken his routine and he’s never failed a job. It’s what makes him the best and the most highly requested.
There’s a blue folder sitting on his desk and Kris pages through it again, taking in information he’s already learned just as a refresher. He begins a new assignment today.
KIM, MINSEOK
24
He’s the only son of a well to-do business man who owns more than half the city and while Kris would have automatically been handed the case solely on the high ranking status, it’s the reason why he needs a bodyguard that made him the only man for the job.
There was an attempt made on Kim Minseok’s life only a few weeks ago and he’s been in the hospital since with twenty-hour protection provided by the same agency Kris works for. Today he’s being discharged despite lingering injuries, the most concerning of which is the diagnosis of temporary blindness caused by the modified flash grenade that sent his driver off the road. Now he’s left vulnerable and open for attack and Kris is going to have his work cut out for him.
He’s used to dealing with people in high stations, listening to them complaining about the world, believing it owes them something simply because they were born into money. It’s nothing new for the words no offense to drip off their silver-spooned tongues right before they insult everything Kris is and ever has been. And it isn’t that Kris is immune, but more that he’s learned to separate his personal feelings from his professional life. He wouldn’t be worth a damn if he didn’t. And now he has one more daddy’s boy to take care of and he expects him to be the same as all the others.
Chanyeol and Tao greet Kris at the door to Minseok’s hospital room. “You’re going to have your hands full with this one,” Chanyeol jokes, slapping his palm on Kris’ arm jovially.
“He can’t be any worse than the twins a few years ago,” Kris answers, shuddering at the thought of the two teenage girls who had led him on a chase through half of Paris before he caught them and got them back to their parents just before they returned. It would have been the end of his career if he’d lost the children of an ambassador.
“You’ll see,” Tao says with a knowing smile. Kris merely elbows them both out of the way before rapping on the door with his knuckles. There’s a muffled answer and he opens the door just wide enough to step inside before closing it behind him.
What he sees is a small man swallowed by a hospital bed, his face turned toward the window even though there’s gauze wrapped around his head to cover his eyes. Kris can see the burns from the attack peeking out from the bandage and along several spots on his arms and hands from where he’d most likely raised them to cover his face.
“Hello?” His voice is soft, smooth with only a hint of trepidation.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” Kris begins, walking slowly to the end of the bed. “My name is Kris and I’m here to take you home.”
“You sound like another suit,” Minseok answers, face swiveling to orient on where Kris’ voice is coming from.
“Pardon?”
“The guys standing outside my door. Are you one of them?”
“We work for the same company and are all employed by your father, yes. I am here to assist you and keep you safe.”
Minseok snorts and his mouth turns down in a frown. Kris is unaffected. “I assure you, you’re in the best hands.”
“Of course I am,” Minseok snaps. “My father wouldn’t hire anyone else.”
Kris hides his annoyance behind a blank face even if Minseok can’t see it. The sound of a defeated sigh filters over the humming of the machines Minseok is no longer hooked up to, but have been left on, perhaps in negligence.
“Sorry,” Minseok apologizes in a small voice and, honestly, Kris is genuinely surprised. Minseok slumps into his pillows, looking so much smaller, vulnerable. “I’m just a little -” Minseok closes his mouth and shrugs.
“Angry with the world?” Kris supplies.
“Angry at the people who did this to me,” he answers, gesturing to his face before letting his hand drop to his lap. “Angry at my father because he’s the reason they attacked me.” Minseok shakes his head, turning toward the light spilling from the window again. “But not at the world.”
“Just give it some time,” Kris mumbles to himself. All it takes is a little time.
The door opens behind him and Kris swivels, eyes sweeping the over the newcomer from head to toe in one quick motion before he deems the man harmless. Well . . .
“Ah, right on time.” Minseok’s father is a commanding man and Kris sees the way Minseok sits up a little higher in bed at the sound of his voice. “Minseok, Kris here is going to see you home. I trust you won’t mind. I’ve finished all the paperwork and your prescriptions are waiting at the checkout desk for you. So if you’re quite done milking the attention, I have more important things to attend to.”
Minseok flinches at his father’s words, but does not comment, sitting in silence until his father is gone and only Kris is left to watch him crumple. “I guess that’s that.” The thin white blanket over Minseok’s body is folded over and the man swings his legs to the side, dangling them off the edge of the bed.
There’s a small table off to the side with folded clothing and Minseok reaches for it. Kris stands still, doesn’t budge to offer any assistance because none is asked of him. It’s all part and parcel of the job - do nothing unless told.
Kris turns his back when Minseok asks him to, cheeks a little pink either from the exertion of moving about or out of embarrassment. He hears rustling and muttered cursing following the knock of something against the bed. Kris flicks his eyes to one of the laminated posters on the wall that’s just reflective enough for him to be able to discern that Minseok is fighting with his pants and not with an assailant.
Kris sighs. “Would you like some assistance?”
“No,” is Minseok’s clipped answer, voice strained as he continues to dress himself.
The answer is unsurprising. So is Minseok’s refusal for a wheelchair when they walk out, Chanyeol and Tao both snickering behind Kris’ back. Kris has to hold Minseok by the elbow, guide him down the hall and to the elevator. He glares at both his associates until the door shuts, leaving him alone with Minseok who, as he expected, is just the same as all the others.
The drive to Minseok’s home is silent, Minseok secure in the backseat of Kris’ car. Kris keeps flicking his eyes to the second, smaller mirror installed just under the standard rearview mirror - the one oriented on Minseok - to find him gazing out the window just as he had been at the hospital.
Minseok’s home is just outside the city limits and, in Kris’ opinion, inconveniently large. There are too many open spaces, too many hidden nooks and crannies to hide in. He does his initial sweep of the grounds with Minseok at his side just to ensure no one is laying in wait.
“I would like to be left alone,” Minseok says once Kris has made a full circle. Kris leads him to his bedroom and waits outside the door until it is shut.
Kris gets settled in, his laptop booted by the side of the bed so he can connect to the security cameras installed by the tech team earlier.
>>knock, knock
Kris smiles and shakes his head at the text on the bottom of the screen, the cursor blinking and waiting for him to respond. And he does, in the exact same way he always does when Jongdae decides to pop in.
>>who’s there?
>>your guardian angel
>>peering over my shoulder
>>always
Kris undoes the top button of his shirt after loosening his tie. His jacket comes off and he lays it over the bed to keep it from wrinkling. His shoes stay on. So does the gun strapped to his side - standard issue and the reason he’s still standing. Well, it and Jongdae on the other end of the cameras, monitoring everything from the company. Kris knows from experience that he’ll stay in that small room all night, napping on the mattress he had brought in and living off coffee and energy drinks until the job is done.
Kris’ cellphone is hooked into the network as well and he slips it in his pocket when he leaves the room. He pauses briefly in front of Minseok’s door just to listen and make sure everything is alright before he passes by.
His footsteps are silent over cream carpet, gaze drawn to eggshell walls and taupe furniture as he walks through the living room on his way to the kitchen. Every room seems untouched, left in exactly the same manner in which the house was purchased save for Minseok’s bedroom. Judging by the two outfits worth of dirty laundry he’d seen on the floor by the bed and the freshly opened toothpaste on Minseok’s bathroom sink, he wagers Minseok had been here only a few days before the attempt on his life.
There are no dishes in the sink. Kris opens each cabinet until he finds the untouched glasses. Tap water runs out of a high-end filter and Kris takes a large swallow just before every outside light flicks on and the alarm on his phone sounds.
Someone’s just tripped the motion sensors.
Kris gets to the living room right as the doorbell rings and he stops, hand on his gun as he cautiously makes his way to the door. He peers through the peephole and sighs, pulling out his phone to silence the alarm and give the all clear.
“Good evening,” greets the pizza delivery boy when Kris cracks open the door.
Kris scowls, eyeing the kid from head to toe and back. The pizza smells delicious and his stomach gurgles when he gets a good whiff. However, it doesn’t mean he’s pleased when he has to fish several bills from his own wallet to tip him.
With pizza in hand, Kris marches down to Minseok’s room and knocks on the door. There’s shuffling and a muffled curse before Minseok opens up.
“You ordered pizza?” Kris accuses
“I knew you’d bring it. I hope you like pepperoni and olives.”
“You’re supposed to clear things like this with me first,” Kris explains, even as Minseok is walking away and toward his bed with small, unsure steps and his hands held out in front of him.
“It’s just pizza,” he offers as explanation, plopping down on his mattress when he successfully traverses the room.
“And it set off the alarms because I didn’t know to expect a visitor.”
“You didn’t shoot him did you?” Minseok inquires, not even a hint of seriousness in his voice.
“Of course I didn’t shoot him.”
“Well good. No harm done then. Now get in here so we can eat. I need to cleanse my palate from all that hospital food with something unhealthy.”
Kris stands there, a little at a loss because he’s just been outmaneuvered by a blind man he met less than two hours ago. And because he’s hungry and the pizza is burning his hand, Kris joins Minseok on the bed, opening the top box and handing him a slice. He’s slow to bring it to his mouth, reaching out with his other hand to guide it.
“So tell me about you,” Minseok says after his first successful bite. “What makes a man be a bodyguard? Hero complex? Kink for power? Dreams of world domination?”
Once again Minseok takes Kris by surprise and he’s starting to wonder if it’s going to be a regular thing. Now he knows what Chanyeol and Tao were warning him about. No one’s ever inquired about him before. Usually they treat him as a piece of furniture.
“It’s what I’m good at,” Kris answers with carefully chosen words.
“Did you just wake up one day and realize you were meant to protect people then? Or did you stumble into it?”
“You’re awfully chatty,” Kris sighs.
“I’ve been stuck in a hospital for weeks, listening to bad daytime television shows and the pitying sympathies of dozens of acquaintances walking in and out my door. Humor me with some genuine entertainment.”
“My life is entertaining then?”
“Your story might be.”
Kris looks at Minseok, studies the way his hair falls over the bandages still on his eyes, the way his cheeks are sunken in after a sudden loss of weight, the smear of grease on the corner of his lips that his tongue can’t quite reach. “I was a cop,” he begins. Minseok’s posture straightens and he leans forward a little. Kris grabs a tissue off Minseok’s nightstand in time to catch the drops of grease about to fall onto the comforter. “I wanted to be a detective; I wanted to be the guy who caught the murderers and thieves and rapists and bring them to justice.”
“Noble,” Minseok comments with a small smile.
“I saw my fair share of crime scenes, of dead and beaten bodies. And one day I realized that’s not what I wanted. I don’t want to track down killers. I want to stop them before they get the chance to do it.”
“I imagine it’s not easy.”
Kris absentmindedly pushes two fingers against the scar of the bullet wound that had torn through his shoulder before realizing what he’s doing and dropping his hand. “No, but saving a life is worth it.”
“Do you ever get hired by people who don’t deserve saving?”
Kris swallows hard, resisting the urge to back out of the room and save himself from this questioning, this dissection of his life choices. But he doesn’t. He calms himself and remembers that this is just a part of the job. “The company usually does a decent enough job of weeding out the criminals trying to find a wall to hide behind. We don’t impede police investigations and man hunts.”
“You sound like one of my father’s lawyers - answering the question without answering the question.” Kris opens his mouth to speak, but Minseok’s already waving him off. “It’s alright. I’m used to it.”
Minseok stops talking and Kris feels a little bad about it because he’d been earnest in his queries, not intent on belittling him or his chosen field. It doesn’t matter, though. What matters is keeping Minseok safe and they don’t have to be on friendly terms for that. So he eats in silence, pausing only to aid Minseok when he wants another slice and to help him get the toothpaste on his toothbrush so he can brush his teeth after.
Kris rechecks the cameras before bed, keeping his phone and gun on the small table next to him.
Minseok sleeps in, but Kris doesn’t. He’s up at 6 to take a ten minute shower and walk the grounds to ensure everything is as it should be. He’s done by 7 and he pops his head into Minseok’s room to check on him. Minseok is still knocked out, body curled small on the large mattress and it looks like he’s drowning in the blue blankets. Kris leaves him be.
He spends a quiet morning monitoring the cameras and fitting in a few exercises to keep his shoulder loose. It’s been acting up more lately and he makes a mental note to ask his doctor about something new to keep the muscle and joint from stiffening up. An injury like this can slows his reaction time and that’s a debilitation he simply can’t have. The only upside is that it isn’t his shooting arm.
Minseok wakes around 10, rolling out of bed and knocking into the table hard enough to have Kris barging into the room. Upon finding Minseok mostly unharmed save for the spot on his leg he’s rubbing, Kris relaxes and tsks under his breath.
“Sorry,” Minseok mumbles in a voice still thick with sleep. “But since you’re here, could you maybe get me something to wear?”
Kris opens Minseok’s closet expecting to find it full of slacks and casual button-downs. What he finds are jeans and tshirts and he allows himself a small smile before picking out one of each. Minseok stumbles toward his bathroom and before Kris can stop himself, he is reaching out, a hand on Minseok’s elbow to guide him away from the wall he was about to smack into and over two feet to his right so he makes it to the bathroom.
He gets an embarrassed thanks before the door closes.
Kris sticks around, answering Minseok’s call of his name when he pops his head out. There are several prescription medicines still in the bag - some for pain and others for the burns. Minseok leans back against the counter and tilts his head up to make it easier.
Kris carefully unwraps the gauze keeping the bandages in place over Minseok’s eyes. He has seen his fair share of injuries, but that doesn’t mean he ever gets used to it. The skin underneath is a vivid pink, yellowing around the edges where dead skin flakes away. It looks painful and Minseok hisses as the fibers pull at the sensitive flesh when he carefully peels up the bandages.
Minseok opens his eyes and a hollow pit opens in Kris’ chest. They’re lifeless, unable to focus as he stares straight ahead. His pupils are small, showing off the myriad of browns that make up his irises. The whites of his eyes are more yellow than white with splotches of pink in the more irritated areas.
“Is it bad?” Minseok asks in a small voice.
“Not really,” Kris lies.
He’s as gentle as he can be when he presses a cool, damp rag on the burns to wipe off the residual ointment and errant patches of peeled up skin. Minseok keeps still, but Kris sees his jaw clenching with each pass, fingers curled tight around the corner of the counter until his knuckles turn white.
The medicated cream he applies goes on smooth and Minseok seems to relax. It’s cool to the touch with a silky glide that helps Kris get it everywhere it needs to be. Minseok closes his eyes and Kris swipes his thumbs over his eyelids, taking care not to use too much pressure. When he’s finished, Minseok sighs in relief.
His eyes and skin are still too sensitive to withstand direct light, so Kris has to carefully put new bandages back on. He tightens it a little too much and Minseok winces, one of his hands pushing on Kris’ chest in reaction. Kris lets up, unrolling the gauze and starting over.
“Thank you,” Minseok whispers when Kris is finished.
Kris looks down at the palm on his chest, fingers tapping over where his heart is. “You’re welcome.”
Minseok is surprisingly easy to get along with, all things considered. Minseok is stubborn and proud, refusing to seek out help for things that he used to be able to do so easily, but now has trouble with. And Kris still doesn’t offer, watching as Minseok goes from frustrated to triumphant when he finally gets it on his own.
Kris does make the mistake of stepping in when his assistance wasn’t wanted once. Minseok keeps stubbing his toes against walls and furniture as he navigates a house he isn’t used to. So after the first few times, he shuffles into the living room to put his shoes on as armor. Kris is propped against the wall, watching as Minseok struggles with the laces.
One loud sigh after another and Kris walks over, kneeling down to take them from Minseok and tie them for him. “I can do it myself,” Minseok barks, pushing at Kris’ arm once he finds it. Kris falls back and watches Minseok fight a little longer before tucking the laces into the sides and walking off slowly.
Most people would relish the chance to be waited on, to lay about and bemoan their misfortune while making Kris’ life a living hell. Kris is thankful for the reprieve, but he worries. He understands Minseok’s need to prove himself, to show that his life hasn’t changed because of the attack, however, his life has changed.
After one failed shower attempt, Minseok has now conceded that he needs Kris in the room with him. He calls out when he needs the shampoo, Kris sliding it through the curtain and pressing it into his palm. And thus it goes with the conditioner and body wash. And when he’s finished with his shower, Kris keeps his back turned as Minseok dresses.
Minseok holds his head high as Kris runs the razor up his neck, taking three day old stubble and shaving cream with it. Every morning he changes the bandages, bearing witness to the slow healing skin and staring into sightless pupils. It’s a little unnerving.
Kris takes Minseok to the hospital for regular appointments and waits outside as Minseok has his eyes and burns checked. He keeps watch on everyone who walks in and out, hands folded in his lap and legs crossed. Minseok never looks happy when they leave, but he doesn’t choose to share and Kris doesn’t pry.
Pizza and chinese food get boring about eight days in because that’s all Minseok does for food. And he still hasn’t caught on that he needs to warn Kris that a delivery person is going to show up, setting off all the alarms until Kris concludes there’s no threat. Jongdae thinks it’s terribly funny. Kris does not.
For a man who can not see, Minseok is very proficient with his phone. Kris makes it to his room and takes it out of his hand, hanging up on whichever food place was on the other line this time. “No more,” he says. “My intestines have started a revolt against my stomach because of your taste for takeout.”
Minseok fidgets, a frown on his face and Kris actually feels bad about it. “It’s not that I have a taste for it,” he explains, shoulders hunched. “But I can’t cook like this.”
Minseok looks so infinitesimally small, like a child who needs protecting, but doesn’t want to ask for it. Kris rests a hand on his shoulder in understanding. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“Full service babysitting?”
“Do you want me to cook or not?”
“Yes please.”
Kris leads Minseok down toward the kitchen. Minseok trails his fingers along the wall, letting his arm drop when it’s out of reach.
The pantry is well-stocked, but there’s little in the refrigerator. Kris decides on something simple - pasta. Minseok sits at the table, chin propped on his hand and face turned toward where Kris is running water into a pot.
“Where are the spoons?” Kris asks, more to draw Minseok into conversation than anything. But Minseok just shrugs with a noncommittal hum. “Don’t you live here?”
“I was stashed here to be out of the way,” Minseok answers with a bite of venom seeping into his tone. “There’s nothing better than being told you’re the weak-link and you have to disappear for a while.”
“So no home sweet home,” Kris comments, at ease with speaking so freely now. It’s an odd thing, conversing with his charge as if he’s a friend, but then, Kris is short of friends and Minseok is the kind he wouldn’t mind keeping around.
“What about you?” Minseok asks. “What’s your home like?”
Kris locates a large spoon and leans against the counter beside the stove, waiting for the water to boil. “I have an apartment. It’s not large like this, but I don’t need it to be.”
“This place makes me feel vulnerable,” Minseok explains, fingers tracing patterns on the table even if he can’t see them. “It must be nice not to feel exposed at every corner.”
“Well,” Kris starts in an attempt to lighten the mood, “it doesn’t hurt that I’ve alarmed the place and there’s a gun stashed in every room.”
It does the trick. Minseok laughs, his entire face brightening. Kris imagines how he would look fully healed, the bandages gone and his eyes wrinkling around the corners.
“Remind me not to try and rob you.”
Kris watches as small bubbles linger at the bottom of the pot and he sighs.
>>how goes the mannyguarding?
>>pleasantly boring
>>good to hear
>>i have a favor to ask
Kris’ phone rings a moment later and he picks up the call. “I want to move him.”
“Why? You just said it was boring and I’ve seen nothing on the cameras to indicate this is an unsafe environment.”
Kris sighs, rubbing his eyes. How can he explain this without it sounding completely ridiculous? This job is about security, not comfort. The number of nights Kris has spent with little to no sleep or only a flat, hard surface to rest on in the name of security is countless. Maybe he’s getting too old for this, too soft.
He thinks about Minseok, about his few genuine smiles and imagines how many more he would freely give if not stifled under the thumb of his father. “This place is too large for a blind man,” Kris begins, clinging to a thread of hope that Jongdae won’t see right through him. “If I can get him somewhere smaller, not only will it be easier for us both, but there won’t be a need for constant monitoring. He’ll be easier to protect.”
Jongdae is quiet on the other line and the only reason Kris knows he hasn’t been hung up on is because of the steady breathing. “I think I can spin that to make it work. Upper management will buy it.”
Kris breathes out a sigh of relief.
“But don’t think for one second that I do.”
All that relief rushes out and Kris slumps down onto his bed. “It’s a solid reason.”
“And one you’ve never given before. I know you, remember? There’s something going on that you aren’t telling me. I can smell it from here.”
“Maybe when this is all over, I’ll find a new tech.”
Jongdae barks out a laugh. “Please. Every agent here would give their left nut to have me.”
Kris hangs up and lays back on the mattress, ignoring the ping of a new text message that comes in a few seconds later. It’s just Jongdae getting his feathers ruffled from being hung up on.
Kris gets authorization to move Minseok to a new, secure location by the end of the day.
Kris unlocks the door to his apartment and walks in enough to disable the alarm before leading Minseok inside. It’s a short tour - guiding Minseok directly right and into the square of his kitchen, then around the bar to the living room. He hears Minseok counting his paces under his breath.
Then on to the bathroom and finally the bedroom where Minseok will be sleeping.
“You would be the chivalrous type,” Minseok jokes. “And I suppose you’re going to be on the couch.”
“Not a chance,” Kris answers. “I have a blow up mattress I’ll be using so I don’t have to leave you alone. There aren’t cameras here. I need to be able to keep you in sight.”
“How romantic,” Minseok mumbles, but it’s just loud enough for Kris to catch. And he finds his stomach dipping at the innocent comment.
“This is acceptable, isn’t it?” Kris finds himself asking, suddenly worried that he’s making his guest - charge - uncomfortable. He’d thought moving them here was a good idea born from Minseok’s desires to be out of that house, but maybe he’d read it wrong. And it bothers him that Minseok’s opinion matters.
Minseok grins, reaching out to feel for the mattress before bouncing down on it. “It’s great.”
Minseok takes to Kris’ apartment quickly, always with a hand trailing over a wall or a piece of furniture as he learns the twists and turns to get where he needs to go.
Minseok’s clothes hang in Kris’ closet, his shoes beside the door and his presence scattered about. Kris has never had someone so thoroughly invade a space that’s his and he wrestles with it daily. Minseok is his job, his responsibility and the lines are beginning to blur. The protective instinct to keep Minseok away from harm reaches passed business and into personal. It’s frightening and thrilling and Kris does his best to keep himself in check.
Minseok has his head resting on the arm of the couch, hair all out of sorts and socked feet bouncing up and down on the cushion to the beat of the song on his ipod that’s plugged into Kris’ speakers. It’s a serene setting and Kris hesitates to make his presence known.
So of course, his phone chimes and even though it’s in his pocket, it rings loud enough to be heard over the music.
still boring enough for you
Kris sighs at Jongdae’s text before sending back a curt yes. When he looks back up, Minseok is facing his direction.
“Just the office,” he explains.
Minseok nods as he reaches for the remote sitting on his lap. He accidentally turns up the volume and jumps a little before lowering it down to background noise. “So what do you do for fun? I can’t imagine someone like you sitting still for long between jobs.”
Kris smiles, walking around so he can sit on the couch next to Minseok. “I go to a gym,” he confesses. “Sometimes I’ll catch a movie if anything decent is playing, but otherwise I’m a pretty boring guy.”
Minseok scrunches his nose in distaste. “Yeah, that’s kinda boring. How are you supposed to land a wife with hobbies like that?”
Kris full on snorts before he can stop himself, earning an open mouthed gawk from Minseok. “A wife isn’t exactly on my agenda.”
“Oh? Then what is?”
Kris pretends to think about it for a moment, leaning forward so he can get a good view of Minseok’s reaction. “A boyfriend maybe.” Minseok’s eyebrows raise nearly to his hairline, forehead all wrinkled and lips in a circle. “Does that bother you?”
“No. Should it?”
“No,” Kris breathes, relaxing back on the arm of the couch. “What about you?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend, if that’s what you’re asking,” Minseok answers with a cheeky grin.
Kris knocks his knee against Minseok’s foot. “I meant hobbies.”
“I love to dance,” Minseok starts, sitting up higher with a bright smile on his face. “And reading and sneaking onto the roof when it rains.” Kris wants to reach out and trace Minseok’s lips with his fingers, taste the words coming out of his mouth because they sound so sweet, so enticing. “I used to fold lucky paper stars,” he adds. “And I’d write a little quote from a book inside each one before taking them to the orphanage downtown.” Then the light fades and Minseok seems to melt back in the cushions a little. “My father said it was great publicity to be seen in such a place, but that I needn’t bother with something as useless as orphans. He always seems to take a personal vendetta against everything I love.”
“Well he’s not here now.”
“And yet he still manages to keep me prisoner.” Kris has never heard Minseok’s tone so cold, watching as Minseok brushes his hand over his bandages.
Kris reaches out and takes Minseok’s hand, squeezing it tight in his own. “Not forever.”
Minseok gives a sad laugh. “Nothing is forever.”
Minseok’s next doctor’s appointment goes significantly better than the previous ones; Kris can tell by the way he’s practically vibrating when the nurse leads him out of the room so Kris can take him by the arm.
Minseok doesn’t even wait for Kris to ask. “I can see light,” he blurts out with a joyous laugh. “I mean, it’s just faint outlines and stuff, but I can see,” he continues as Kris leads him through the halls.
Kris finds himself grinning, elated that Minseok is getting better. “Well this calls for a celebration.”
“Oh yeah?” Minseok queries with his head tilted to the side. “Like what?”
Kris’ initial answer was going to be alcohol, but a few of Minseok’s prescriptions advise against drinking while taking them, so he goes for the next best thing. “Cake. Any kind of cake you want.”
A quick trip to the grocery store, with Minseok standing on the bottom of the cart and holding onto the handlebars as Kris pushes him around, and they end up buying several different cake mixes because someone can’t seem to make up his mind. Kris has to get more eggs and cooking oil as well since he’s bound to run out quickly.
They get several strange looks and Kris is highly aware of the gun strapped to his side as he keeps vigilant. This may be a joy trip, but that doesn’t mean he’s about to let his guard down.
As soon as they’re back in Kris’ apartment, Minseok leaving his shoes at the door and jacket on the hook he’s learned the location of without having to feel around anymore, Kris puts all the mixes on the counter. There’s yellow, chocolate, butter pecan and strawberry.
“We can leave out the butter pecan and make a neapolitan cake,” Minseok suggests.
“Mix them together?” Kris asks skeptically, lip curling at the thought.
Minseok scoffs. “No, we make one layer of each. You have a sheet cake pan, don’t you?”
“Do you know how long that’s going to take?” Kris whines half-heartedly, knowing that Minseok is going to get what he wants either way.
“This is my celebration,” Minseok says. “And we’re going to do it properly.” Kris jumps when Minseok smacks a hand on the side of his leg, very close to his ass. “So get to it.”
“I should leave all the dishes for you. That way they’ll be dry and hard to clean by the time you can see.”
Minseok clucks his tongue and makes himself comfortable leaning against the counter as Kris gets to work. And really, he doesn’t mind in the least. It’s nice doing something as crazy as a triple layer cake on a whim. Kris isn’t known for his spontaneity, but he thinks he could get used to it with Minseok around.
It takes hours. Kris only has one cake pan and they have to wait for one cake to cook and then cool enough to take out of the pan before washing it and putting the next bowl of batter in. His entire apartment smells sweet and he makes sure to put the empty mixing bowl in front of Minseok because he likes to swipe his finger along the bottom to lick off the excess.
It has Kris desperately trying to derail a newly formed train of thought.
“You should see this,” Kris says as all three sheet cakes sit atop cooling racks on his small kitchen table.
“Take a picture for me.”
Kris takes several pictures with Minseok’s phone. “They need to cool for a while before we put on the frosting.”
“Suggestions to pass the time?”
Kris swallows down his first answer and opts for something that doesn’t involve stepping over that ever blurring professional line.
Minseok’s burns are mostly healed. The skin is less irritated, smooth under his fingers with only the occasional rough patch now. Kris has Minseok’s face in his hands, thumbs rubbing his medicated cream underneath his eyes. He leans in, tugged forward by the strings tied tight around his heart until he can feel Minseok’s breath on his mouth. The urge to take and take and take is simmering under Kris’ skin and he swallows, his tongue thick and throat clogging with everything he isn’t saying.
“Kris,” Minseok whispers, voice barely heard over the hammering of Kris’ heart. “What are you doing?”
Kris pulls away, struggling to pull himself together. “Nothing,” he answers, hoping Minseok doesn’t notice the way he has to force the word out. He fumbles with the bandages, fingers refusing to cooperate as he loses his grip several times and the gauze unrolls into the sink. Minseok finds Kris’ wrist with his fingers, wrapping them firmly around him and while it’s supposed to be settling, it unnerves Kris. He’s quick, but careful, as he finishes before he stumbling out of the room.
When Minseok comes out a few minutes later, Kris has already decided to convince himself that it never happened. It’s as if Minseok is melting himself into the cracks of Kris’ life, slowly edging in and Kris is defenseless against it. His heart is already on the road to betrayal and his mind isn’t far behind. He has to control himself, maintain that separation or things may unravel quickly.
“You sound tired,” Jongdae remarks through the receiver.
Kris sits on the couch, phone cushioned between his ear and shoulder lazily. Minseok is asleep and Kris should be too, but he feels too restless. “Nothing a vacation won’t cure,” he jokes.
“You? Vacation? Alright, who are you and where is Kris?”
Kris laughs, slinking further onto the cushions, laying down to get comfortable. “I think I’ve earned one.”
“You have,” Jongdae says with a sigh. “And where would you go? Do you even have friends to go with?”
“Somewhere tropical, I think.”
“So you’re a sun in your face, wind in your hair kinda guy. Never would have pegged you as the type.”
“People change.”
There silence before Jongdae’s answer. “Or people change you.”
Kris sighs. “Maybe. Or maybe they just bring out what was already there to begin with.”
Jongdae whistles. “You’ve got it bad. Make sure to lay on the romance thick before he can actually see your ugly face.”
“Thanks for the support.”
“Go to bed,” Jongdae orders.
Kris hangs up with a muttered, “good night,” and yawn before shuffling quietly into the bedroom. Minseok is still asleep, curled on his side just as he is every night. There’s a gnawing want in Kris’ chest that feels like it wants to crawl up his throat and strangle him. He’s never dealt with such temptation on a job before and it keeps throwing him off balance.
Kris ends up staring at Minseok’s hand that’s hanging over the edge, fingers curled up toward the ceiling for most of the night, eyes finally closing just before the sun’s rays peek over the horizon. It’s the first morning in years that he’s slept in and Minseok lets him.
It would be a lot simpler to focus on the job and less on Minseok as a man if there were more to do, but aside from checking the door alarm and keeping Minseok tucked close to him when they go to the store, there’s nothing left to do. The company calls - mostly through Jongdae - with updates on the police investigation and to tell him he’s still needed and Kris watches Minseok as he dances in the middle of the living room, only half paying attention.
He’s moved the coffee table out and now there’s a large space between the couch and entertainment center for Minseok to move without fear of slamming into something. And Minseok takes advantage of it daily. It keeps Minseok occupied at the very least, leading to less questions asked of Kris’ personal life and more about his taste in music (which Minseok thinks is borderline horrific).
It’s been four days since the Almost Kiss that Kris has failed to forget when he realizes that even though he’s the one guarding Minseok, Minseok is the one who is leading him around.
“You ready?” Minseok asks, expertly tying the laces on his sneakers now that he’s gotten enough practice. “We should try to get there early in case they can take me. That way we can get to the grocery store before it gets dark. I know you don’t like driving in the dark.”
Kris halts, the door halfway open and knob still in his hand. “What? I’ve never -”
“You fidget when you drive at night. I can hear it. And you also bump my arm a lot more because you keep your hand on the gear shift.”
Kris is still shell-shocked when Minseok takes him by the wrist, hand trailing down Kris’ arm before he finds the right hold and tugs him forward. It sends Kris’ head reeling, unprepared for the touch and he allows himself to be led down the hall. Minseok even knows where the button for the elevator is.
Between getting on the elevator and walking through the lobby, Minseok has managed to link their hands, waiting until they get outside before deferring to Kris’ lead because he’s back in unfamiliar territory.
“I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” Minseok asks after they’re on the road.
“No. But it makes me wonder what else you’ve figured out about me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Kris can see Minseok smile as he leans his head on the window. From this angle he can’t even see the slightly discolored skin that peeks out from under the bandages.
“The first thing you do every morning is check your phone, followed by using the bathroom and hopping in the shower. Every two days you shave - the smell of your aftershave is strong. After you brush your teeth you check your phone again.”
“Christ,” Kris mutters under his breath. Minseok’s managed to nail down his entire morning routine, but what’s more surprising is that Kris had always assumed Minseok slept through it.
“Sorry. It’s just that I don’t really have much in the way of entertainment and you’re the most fascinating thing around.”
Kris feels his cheeks burning with a blush, thankful that at least Minseok can’t see it. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he rumbles awkwardly.
Minseok laughs. “If it makes you feel any better, your routine has gotten me through a lot of rough mornings when I didn’t want to get out of bed at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“I still dream in color.” Minseok sighs, his breath fogging the window before fading away. “And when I wake up it’s gone. Who wants to live in a world of darkness? But then I hear you moving around with your borderline ocd schedule and I realize that just because I’m broken doesn’t mean the world stops.”
Kris pulls into the parking lot and looks at Minseok, carefully resting his hand over Minseok’s and squeezing. “It’s alright if your world stops, but only for a little while.” And then he retreats, pulling away and getting out of the car, walking around to wait for Minseok to do the same.
“Thank you,” Minseok says softly and Kris silently guides him into the hospital with Minseok’s fingers tight in the crook of his elbow.
Kris sits in the waiting room as always, eyes flicking to the people around him to observe. Time seems to slow to a crawl and he dislikes the way his thoughts try to crash in on him like a tidal wave. This hope is taking hold in his chest, the spark of a flame stoked by the knowledge that Minseok pays attention to him in more than a we’re squeezed together for the foreseeable future so we might as well make the best of it way.
It’s nice, he thinks, this onset of events because it’s been so long since he’s cared about anything on more than a base level.
When Minseok comes out, Kris is sitting there with a gummy grin on his face that only grows wider as Minseok stops in front of him. The bandages are gone and even though his hair is hopelessly indented all the way around his head and he can’t stop blinking, he looks like he’s about to burst with joy.
He’s eager when he clutches Kris’ arm, a bounce in his step. “Doctor said I’ve healed enough that exposure to light won’t do any damage,” he starts. “Everything is a mass of blurry lines and my eyes sting, but holy shit, I can see.”
By the time they reach the car, Minseok is squinting. “Is your car gray?”
“Black.”
Minseok makes a small noise, but falls silent. They’re nearly halfway home when he speaks again, too busy staring out the window even though he can’t properly make anything out. “Hey, can we get ice cream?”
It becomes a game. Day by day, Minseok’s eyesight improves, although Kris still watches him close his eyes to walk familiar paths without seeing when it all gets to be too much. There are little bottles of eye drops stashed everywhere now because of it.
“Are you sure your couch is plum?” Minseok asks, his face barely a foot away from the upholstery.
“No, I’ve been fucking with you for two days. Yes, it’s plum.”
“It looks blue.”
“It looks purple.”
Minseok narrows his eyes and peers over at Kris who is sitting on the other end of said piece of furniture. “You still haven’t told me what color your eyes are.”
Kris’ heart flutters and he smiles knowingly. “And I told you that you have to tell me when you can see them properly.”
Minseok huffs and flops on the couch, uncaring that he’s squishing Kris’ feet with his thighs. “You’re terrible. I bet your eyes aren’t even that special. You just look like a blob to me. A blob with blond hair and a pink splotch where your mouth is. Very uninviting if you ask me.”
Kris wakes up in the morning and flinches back, eyes wide because Minseok’s face is severely close to his own. “Oh,” Minseok breathes as if he’s made some startling revelation.
“What?” Kris mumbles, voice thick as he sits up on an elbow, running a hand over his hair in an attempt to flatten it.
“You’re much better looking than I thought.”
There’s bait dangling in his face, but Kris lets it slide by as an opportunity lost. “You can see me?”
“Mostly.”
“What color are my eyes?”
The breath catches in Kris’ throat when Minseok leans closer, hands on his cheeks to tilt his head up. Longing bubbles to the surface and Kris finds himself frozen, unable to even blink as Minseok peers at him curiously. “I saw you,” Minseok finally says, voice just barely louder than a whisper.
It takes a moment for Kris to answer, his mind clouded. “What?”
“That morning when you were so close,” he begins, eyes darting down to Kris’ lips. “I couldn’t see more than your silhouette because of the light behind you, but I thought -”
Kris lifts higher, looking for a sign to stop and seeing none. “Thought what?” The tips of their noses are a hairsbreadth away from touching and Kris can see right into Minseok’s healed eyes, irises a gorgeous brown.
“You were going to kiss me,” Minseok breathes out.
There’s silence save for the erratic beating of Kris’ heart and the sound of Minseok’s breathing mixing with his own. “Did you want me to?”
Minseok answers with a kiss, a soft drop of his lips on Kris’ before pulling away, eyebrows furrowed and uncertainty written in his features. So Kris kisses him again, this time with a hand on the back of his head to keep him there. Minseok falls forward abruptly and knocks Kris’ elbow out from under him, sending them both back onto the air mattress. After a few moments of shock, they both start laughing, Minseok ducking in an attempt to hide the blush on his cheeks.
It’s been a long time since Kris has felt like this - giddy and undeniably happy and ready to greet the day with a smile on his face and the addition of a person at his side through his morning routine. Minseok doesn’t try to shower with him, but he does hop in right after, shirt coming off over his head before Kris can turn around.
Kris can’t think of any of this as a job when Minseok hovers beside him as he makes pancakes for breakfast, stealing the first one for himself and drowning it in butter and blueberry syrup before it’s had time to cool. Minseok shares, fork up to Kris’ mouth. He ends up smearing syrup over his lips and cheek, laughing as he grabs damp paper towel to clean him off. Kris pulls him in for a kiss for compensation.
Their blissful little domestic bubble doesn’t last for long.
Minseok’s been quiet, withdrawn since the phone call he’d gotten from his father the day before. After getting word from Minseok’s doctor that his eyesight was much improved, his father took no time in deciding it was necessary for Minseok to get back out into the world - be seen at his father’s side for publicity. Which means Kris has been pulling a lifeless Minseok around with him to pick up his suit for the charity event they’re to attend this evening.
Kris got word from his company not long after Minseok did because they’ll be filling out the regular security with guards of their own. It means Chanyeol and Tao are likely to be there and that makes Kris feel a little better about having Minseok in such a public venue when they still haven’t caught whoever tried to kill him.
Minseok looks like he’s getting ready for his own funeral.
“Nothing will happen to you,” Kris assures Minseok, voice low and comforting. He keeps a hand on the side of Minseok’s neck, thumb caressing under his ear. “There will be plenty of security and I’ll be at your side the entire night.”
“Promise?” Minseok looks up at him with wide, fearful eyes. Kris has always been the protective type, but Minseok takes it to a new level and while he knows Minseok is fine on his own, knowing there is still someone out there who wants him dead has Minseok afraid. And Kris can’t blame him. It’s irresponsible for his father to pull him out for something so trivial, but Kris has no say in the matter.
“I promise.”
This is the type of environment Kris is used to - a ball room decorated to the nines with people buzzing about wearing clothing that costs more than what the average citizen makes in a year. They see right through him, content in knowing that he doesn’t belong in their world, but he’ll make it a little safer with his presence. Minseok has a death grip on his arm, fingers holding tight enough to leave bruises behind, but Kris doesn’t pry him away.
Chanyeol and Tao are conversing in low tones through Kris’ earpiece and he half pays attention while keeping his eyes on the area around them. Minseok seems to know what he’s doing, pausing at certain groups of people and passing others by with a nod of his head and a smile. He’s putting on a show.
“Relax, Kris,” Chanyeol whispers. “I can see you gritting your teeth from halfway across the room.”
Kris rolls his eyes, but complies. He can’t help it. He’s on edge more than usual, terrified that something is going to slip passed their notice and Minseok will be hurt or worse because of it. This is precisely the reason a bodyguard doesn’t get emotionally invested in their charge. It leaves him compromised, unable to see things rationally.
Kris takes in several calming breaths and blinks himself out of it. He can do this. He can be objective.
“And here I was feeling sorry for you for being saddled with private security, but if I’d known he was this hot, I’d have hired one for myself.”
Minseok spins, the smile on his face genuine as his eyes wrinkle and nearly disappear. “Luhan!” Minseok releases Kris long enough to throw his arms around the man. Kris appraises him warily behind a blank face. When Minseok pulls away, he hooks his arm with Kris’ again. “Luhan, this is Kris. Kris, this is my sometimes best friend.”
“Sometimes?” Luhan questions dramatically. “You wound me.”
“When you’re around,” Minseok says critically. “Luhan is fond of disappearing and then popping up randomly.”
“I might have to borrow Kris when you’re done for my next trip,” Luhan responds with a sly grin. Minseok rolls his eyes and proceeds to drag Kris away from where Luhan is now pursuing a waiter with a tray of champagne flutes.
“He seems friendly,” Kris mumbles a minute later only to have Minseok flash him with a glare. It takes every ounce of self control Kris possesses not to kiss the look right off Minseok’s face. “Don’t worry,” Kris whispers in apology. “He’s not my type.”
“Then what is your type?”
Kris lays a hand over Minseok’s and squeezes for a moment before dropping his arm. “You are.”
Minseok is blushing, but he looks pleased as they continue their circuit of the room.
“You do know we can hear every word you say, right?” comes Tao’s voice through Kris’ earpiece followed by Chanyeol’s snickering.
“Not a word to Jongdae,” Kris threatens.
“Or what?” Chanyeol inquires, standing tall and imposing near the entrance, but Kris can see the barely contained smile on his face.
“Celebratory drinks are on you when this is all over,” Tao cuts in, putting an end to the argument when Kris sighs and gives a slight nod of his head.
Minseok is peering at Kris curiously, so he winks and watches Minseok’s not so subtle eyeroll. The mood evaporates when Minseok’s father pulls Minseok to his side, a hand tight on the back of his neck as he speaks into his ear. They’re walking toward a stage at the end of the room and Minseok looks frightened out of his mind, face a sickly pale and his fingers cutting harsh into Kris’ arm.
There’s no time for Kris to calm him before Minseok is dragged on stage, Kris left on the sidelines. All attention is drawn to the men up front and Kris feels his heart racing, just waiting for something to happen. He knows Chanyeol and Tao are out there and the venue has its own security, but that doesn’t make him feel better about it. Maybe it’s because Minseok looks so helpless and frail up there, hands balled at his sides and eyes wide and unblinking. And maybe it’s because Kris’ heart is up there with him.
It’s a short speech with the perfunctory sweet lies of caring about nothing more than family and wanting to help other families be as fortunate as his own. Minseok looks ready to bolt and nearly does as soon as it’s over. He rushes to Kris’ side, hand on Kris’ elbow to pull him down. “Get me out of here.”
Chanyeol and Tao assure Kris they have everything under control before he leaves, leading Minseok out with hurried steps. Minseok is wound tight, shoulders tense and lips in a thin line even after they’re in the car and speeding toward home. His left leg bounces and his eyes are glued out the window, but Kris has the feeling he’s not taking in the scenery this time.
The entire ride is silent, the radio switched off with only the purr of the engine in the background. Kris doesn’t know what to say and Minseok doesn’t seem to want to voice his thoughts. Kris feels helpless.
Nothing changes until they get into the apartment, Kris barely getting the door locked behind him before Minseok cracks. He’s shaking, arms around Kris’ neck to pull him down. Their kiss is frantic, Minseok breathing heavily through his nose and clutching at Kris’ hair for more.
Minseok pushes and pulls and Kris lets him because it seems to be calming him. It doesn’t hurt that Minseok’s mouth is warm and Kris can’t get enough, lips parting with a low moan as Minseok licks through them. Kris keeps his hands on Minseok’s waist mostly for balance because he’s being moved.
His shoulder glances off the doorframe to his room, but it’s easy enough to ignore when Minseok has a hand under his shirt, palm hot as it runs up his stomach and chest. Kris gets his suit jacket off before being manhandled onto the bed. Minseok is over him, shrugging out of his own jacket as he kisses Kris again.
He’s shaking. Kris sits up, arms around Minseok to pin his wandering hands to his sides. Minseok whines and tries to wiggle out of it until Kris drops a soft, chaste kiss on his mouth. “Hey,” he whispers, drawing Minseok attention. “It’s alright. Everything’s alright. You’re safe.”
Minseok finally relaxes, slumping against Kris with his face pressed to Kris’ neck. His breathing is shaky and when Kris releases his arms, he rests them gently around Kris’ torso. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok. I’ve got you now. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Kris holds Minseok until he’s stopped trembling and his breathing is even. And when he peels him away, it’s only to guide Minseok up so they can get ready for bed. It’s nearing midnight and they’re both exhausted.
This time, Minseok pulls Kris next to him on the mattress, refusing to let him go. There’s a devastating beauty in the way Minseok bends around him, body molding against Kris’ until it’s impossible to tell one from the other. His fingers fit in the space between Kris’ own, face buried in the curve of Kris’ neck and legs tangled together under the sheets.
“Is this against the rules?” Minseok asks in a soft, muffled voice.
“Yes,” Kris answers without hesitation.
Minseok just holds him tighter, like he’s afraid Kris is going to let go. It’s a preposterous idea. Kris is already too far gone to turn back now. He gathers Minseok closer and falls asleep with him safe in his arms.
Things don’t end with a bang like they do in the movies. There’s no blazing gun fight where he saves Minseok’s life and takes a bullet for him. It doesn’t lead to a confession at the side of his hospital bed, true love winning out in the end. It’s all a bit more mundane than that.
Kris gets a phone call from his boss a little after ten in the morning three days after the charity event, notifying him that the people responsible for the attack have been apprehended and Minseok no longer needs their services. He’ll need to go down to the office and fill out the usual paperwork that afternoon
The thing is, even after Kris tells Minseok that their time is over, Minseok doesn’t leave. His clothes still end up mixed with Kris’ in the dryer, his favorite snack foods at home in Kris’ pantry and the pillows on the bed smelling of Minseok’s shampoo. It’s something Kris doesn’t feel the need to change and he happily sits back as Minseok thoroughly takes over his home and his heart.
It’s been a week and neither of them talk about what this is, content to let things be until they’re forced to put a label on it. They’re laying on the couch, watching one of the many movies Minseok missed out on for the third time before the subject of Kris’ job is brought up. Minseok rolls over to look at Kris before speaking.
“Now that your assignment is over, what are you going to do? Wait around for the next?”
Kris settles a palm on the back of Minseok’s neck, thumb brushing over the soft hair on his nape. “I was thinking about disappearing for a while.”
“Oh?” Minseok sighs, shifting closer as his eyes slip closed.
“Yeah. Want to come with me?”
Minseok hums, smiling and curling more into Kris with an arm slung over his waist. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Kris laughs into Minseok’s hair and feels Minseok settle against him. Maybe it’s time for retirement.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kris/Minseok
Word Count: 10200w
Author Notes: originally written for wufantastic
Summary: Kris' new charge is everything he isn't expecting and everything he needs.
Kris is what the company calls a specialist; he’s the guy who goes in when the situations are more delicate, clients different than your usual politicians or idols or even the occasional government contract for trial witnesses. As a professional bodyguard, he’s seen his fair share (maybe a bit more) of action and in the process earned a few scars to go with the stories, lending a helping hand to his credibility.
He rolls his shoulder, working out the stiffness of an old injury trying to take hold. It’s a consequence of the job - body burning out early but bank balance high enough to keep him comfortable after his inevitable retirement unless he’s taken out of the game first. While every person in his profession hopes to keep their head down long enough to make it to retirement - except that rookie Sehun - not everyone ends up lucky.
It’s a sobering thought, one that drives him to perfection, to cataloging details and moving in strict patterns. He’s never broken his routine and he’s never failed a job. It’s what makes him the best and the most highly requested.
There’s a blue folder sitting on his desk and Kris pages through it again, taking in information he’s already learned just as a refresher. He begins a new assignment today.
KIM, MINSEOK
24
He’s the only son of a well to-do business man who owns more than half the city and while Kris would have automatically been handed the case solely on the high ranking status, it’s the reason why he needs a bodyguard that made him the only man for the job.
There was an attempt made on Kim Minseok’s life only a few weeks ago and he’s been in the hospital since with twenty-hour protection provided by the same agency Kris works for. Today he’s being discharged despite lingering injuries, the most concerning of which is the diagnosis of temporary blindness caused by the modified flash grenade that sent his driver off the road. Now he’s left vulnerable and open for attack and Kris is going to have his work cut out for him.
He’s used to dealing with people in high stations, listening to them complaining about the world, believing it owes them something simply because they were born into money. It’s nothing new for the words no offense to drip off their silver-spooned tongues right before they insult everything Kris is and ever has been. And it isn’t that Kris is immune, but more that he’s learned to separate his personal feelings from his professional life. He wouldn’t be worth a damn if he didn’t. And now he has one more daddy’s boy to take care of and he expects him to be the same as all the others.
Chanyeol and Tao greet Kris at the door to Minseok’s hospital room. “You’re going to have your hands full with this one,” Chanyeol jokes, slapping his palm on Kris’ arm jovially.
“He can’t be any worse than the twins a few years ago,” Kris answers, shuddering at the thought of the two teenage girls who had led him on a chase through half of Paris before he caught them and got them back to their parents just before they returned. It would have been the end of his career if he’d lost the children of an ambassador.
“You’ll see,” Tao says with a knowing smile. Kris merely elbows them both out of the way before rapping on the door with his knuckles. There’s a muffled answer and he opens the door just wide enough to step inside before closing it behind him.
What he sees is a small man swallowed by a hospital bed, his face turned toward the window even though there’s gauze wrapped around his head to cover his eyes. Kris can see the burns from the attack peeking out from the bandage and along several spots on his arms and hands from where he’d most likely raised them to cover his face.
“Hello?” His voice is soft, smooth with only a hint of trepidation.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” Kris begins, walking slowly to the end of the bed. “My name is Kris and I’m here to take you home.”
“You sound like another suit,” Minseok answers, face swiveling to orient on where Kris’ voice is coming from.
“Pardon?”
“The guys standing outside my door. Are you one of them?”
“We work for the same company and are all employed by your father, yes. I am here to assist you and keep you safe.”
Minseok snorts and his mouth turns down in a frown. Kris is unaffected. “I assure you, you’re in the best hands.”
“Of course I am,” Minseok snaps. “My father wouldn’t hire anyone else.”
Kris hides his annoyance behind a blank face even if Minseok can’t see it. The sound of a defeated sigh filters over the humming of the machines Minseok is no longer hooked up to, but have been left on, perhaps in negligence.
“Sorry,” Minseok apologizes in a small voice and, honestly, Kris is genuinely surprised. Minseok slumps into his pillows, looking so much smaller, vulnerable. “I’m just a little -” Minseok closes his mouth and shrugs.
“Angry with the world?” Kris supplies.
“Angry at the people who did this to me,” he answers, gesturing to his face before letting his hand drop to his lap. “Angry at my father because he’s the reason they attacked me.” Minseok shakes his head, turning toward the light spilling from the window again. “But not at the world.”
“Just give it some time,” Kris mumbles to himself. All it takes is a little time.
The door opens behind him and Kris swivels, eyes sweeping the over the newcomer from head to toe in one quick motion before he deems the man harmless. Well . . .
“Ah, right on time.” Minseok’s father is a commanding man and Kris sees the way Minseok sits up a little higher in bed at the sound of his voice. “Minseok, Kris here is going to see you home. I trust you won’t mind. I’ve finished all the paperwork and your prescriptions are waiting at the checkout desk for you. So if you’re quite done milking the attention, I have more important things to attend to.”
Minseok flinches at his father’s words, but does not comment, sitting in silence until his father is gone and only Kris is left to watch him crumple. “I guess that’s that.” The thin white blanket over Minseok’s body is folded over and the man swings his legs to the side, dangling them off the edge of the bed.
There’s a small table off to the side with folded clothing and Minseok reaches for it. Kris stands still, doesn’t budge to offer any assistance because none is asked of him. It’s all part and parcel of the job - do nothing unless told.
Kris turns his back when Minseok asks him to, cheeks a little pink either from the exertion of moving about or out of embarrassment. He hears rustling and muttered cursing following the knock of something against the bed. Kris flicks his eyes to one of the laminated posters on the wall that’s just reflective enough for him to be able to discern that Minseok is fighting with his pants and not with an assailant.
Kris sighs. “Would you like some assistance?”
“No,” is Minseok’s clipped answer, voice strained as he continues to dress himself.
The answer is unsurprising. So is Minseok’s refusal for a wheelchair when they walk out, Chanyeol and Tao both snickering behind Kris’ back. Kris has to hold Minseok by the elbow, guide him down the hall and to the elevator. He glares at both his associates until the door shuts, leaving him alone with Minseok who, as he expected, is just the same as all the others.
The drive to Minseok’s home is silent, Minseok secure in the backseat of Kris’ car. Kris keeps flicking his eyes to the second, smaller mirror installed just under the standard rearview mirror - the one oriented on Minseok - to find him gazing out the window just as he had been at the hospital.
Minseok’s home is just outside the city limits and, in Kris’ opinion, inconveniently large. There are too many open spaces, too many hidden nooks and crannies to hide in. He does his initial sweep of the grounds with Minseok at his side just to ensure no one is laying in wait.
“I would like to be left alone,” Minseok says once Kris has made a full circle. Kris leads him to his bedroom and waits outside the door until it is shut.
Kris gets settled in, his laptop booted by the side of the bed so he can connect to the security cameras installed by the tech team earlier.
>>knock, knock
Kris smiles and shakes his head at the text on the bottom of the screen, the cursor blinking and waiting for him to respond. And he does, in the exact same way he always does when Jongdae decides to pop in.
>>who’s there?
>>your guardian angel
>>peering over my shoulder
>>always
Kris undoes the top button of his shirt after loosening his tie. His jacket comes off and he lays it over the bed to keep it from wrinkling. His shoes stay on. So does the gun strapped to his side - standard issue and the reason he’s still standing. Well, it and Jongdae on the other end of the cameras, monitoring everything from the company. Kris knows from experience that he’ll stay in that small room all night, napping on the mattress he had brought in and living off coffee and energy drinks until the job is done.
Kris’ cellphone is hooked into the network as well and he slips it in his pocket when he leaves the room. He pauses briefly in front of Minseok’s door just to listen and make sure everything is alright before he passes by.
His footsteps are silent over cream carpet, gaze drawn to eggshell walls and taupe furniture as he walks through the living room on his way to the kitchen. Every room seems untouched, left in exactly the same manner in which the house was purchased save for Minseok’s bedroom. Judging by the two outfits worth of dirty laundry he’d seen on the floor by the bed and the freshly opened toothpaste on Minseok’s bathroom sink, he wagers Minseok had been here only a few days before the attempt on his life.
There are no dishes in the sink. Kris opens each cabinet until he finds the untouched glasses. Tap water runs out of a high-end filter and Kris takes a large swallow just before every outside light flicks on and the alarm on his phone sounds.
Someone’s just tripped the motion sensors.
Kris gets to the living room right as the doorbell rings and he stops, hand on his gun as he cautiously makes his way to the door. He peers through the peephole and sighs, pulling out his phone to silence the alarm and give the all clear.
“Good evening,” greets the pizza delivery boy when Kris cracks open the door.
Kris scowls, eyeing the kid from head to toe and back. The pizza smells delicious and his stomach gurgles when he gets a good whiff. However, it doesn’t mean he’s pleased when he has to fish several bills from his own wallet to tip him.
With pizza in hand, Kris marches down to Minseok’s room and knocks on the door. There’s shuffling and a muffled curse before Minseok opens up.
“You ordered pizza?” Kris accuses
“I knew you’d bring it. I hope you like pepperoni and olives.”
“You’re supposed to clear things like this with me first,” Kris explains, even as Minseok is walking away and toward his bed with small, unsure steps and his hands held out in front of him.
“It’s just pizza,” he offers as explanation, plopping down on his mattress when he successfully traverses the room.
“And it set off the alarms because I didn’t know to expect a visitor.”
“You didn’t shoot him did you?” Minseok inquires, not even a hint of seriousness in his voice.
“Of course I didn’t shoot him.”
“Well good. No harm done then. Now get in here so we can eat. I need to cleanse my palate from all that hospital food with something unhealthy.”
Kris stands there, a little at a loss because he’s just been outmaneuvered by a blind man he met less than two hours ago. And because he’s hungry and the pizza is burning his hand, Kris joins Minseok on the bed, opening the top box and handing him a slice. He’s slow to bring it to his mouth, reaching out with his other hand to guide it.
“So tell me about you,” Minseok says after his first successful bite. “What makes a man be a bodyguard? Hero complex? Kink for power? Dreams of world domination?”
Once again Minseok takes Kris by surprise and he’s starting to wonder if it’s going to be a regular thing. Now he knows what Chanyeol and Tao were warning him about. No one’s ever inquired about him before. Usually they treat him as a piece of furniture.
“It’s what I’m good at,” Kris answers with carefully chosen words.
“Did you just wake up one day and realize you were meant to protect people then? Or did you stumble into it?”
“You’re awfully chatty,” Kris sighs.
“I’ve been stuck in a hospital for weeks, listening to bad daytime television shows and the pitying sympathies of dozens of acquaintances walking in and out my door. Humor me with some genuine entertainment.”
“My life is entertaining then?”
“Your story might be.”
Kris looks at Minseok, studies the way his hair falls over the bandages still on his eyes, the way his cheeks are sunken in after a sudden loss of weight, the smear of grease on the corner of his lips that his tongue can’t quite reach. “I was a cop,” he begins. Minseok’s posture straightens and he leans forward a little. Kris grabs a tissue off Minseok’s nightstand in time to catch the drops of grease about to fall onto the comforter. “I wanted to be a detective; I wanted to be the guy who caught the murderers and thieves and rapists and bring them to justice.”
“Noble,” Minseok comments with a small smile.
“I saw my fair share of crime scenes, of dead and beaten bodies. And one day I realized that’s not what I wanted. I don’t want to track down killers. I want to stop them before they get the chance to do it.”
“I imagine it’s not easy.”
Kris absentmindedly pushes two fingers against the scar of the bullet wound that had torn through his shoulder before realizing what he’s doing and dropping his hand. “No, but saving a life is worth it.”
“Do you ever get hired by people who don’t deserve saving?”
Kris swallows hard, resisting the urge to back out of the room and save himself from this questioning, this dissection of his life choices. But he doesn’t. He calms himself and remembers that this is just a part of the job. “The company usually does a decent enough job of weeding out the criminals trying to find a wall to hide behind. We don’t impede police investigations and man hunts.”
“You sound like one of my father’s lawyers - answering the question without answering the question.” Kris opens his mouth to speak, but Minseok’s already waving him off. “It’s alright. I’m used to it.”
Minseok stops talking and Kris feels a little bad about it because he’d been earnest in his queries, not intent on belittling him or his chosen field. It doesn’t matter, though. What matters is keeping Minseok safe and they don’t have to be on friendly terms for that. So he eats in silence, pausing only to aid Minseok when he wants another slice and to help him get the toothpaste on his toothbrush so he can brush his teeth after.
Kris rechecks the cameras before bed, keeping his phone and gun on the small table next to him.
Minseok sleeps in, but Kris doesn’t. He’s up at 6 to take a ten minute shower and walk the grounds to ensure everything is as it should be. He’s done by 7 and he pops his head into Minseok’s room to check on him. Minseok is still knocked out, body curled small on the large mattress and it looks like he’s drowning in the blue blankets. Kris leaves him be.
He spends a quiet morning monitoring the cameras and fitting in a few exercises to keep his shoulder loose. It’s been acting up more lately and he makes a mental note to ask his doctor about something new to keep the muscle and joint from stiffening up. An injury like this can slows his reaction time and that’s a debilitation he simply can’t have. The only upside is that it isn’t his shooting arm.
Minseok wakes around 10, rolling out of bed and knocking into the table hard enough to have Kris barging into the room. Upon finding Minseok mostly unharmed save for the spot on his leg he’s rubbing, Kris relaxes and tsks under his breath.
“Sorry,” Minseok mumbles in a voice still thick with sleep. “But since you’re here, could you maybe get me something to wear?”
Kris opens Minseok’s closet expecting to find it full of slacks and casual button-downs. What he finds are jeans and tshirts and he allows himself a small smile before picking out one of each. Minseok stumbles toward his bathroom and before Kris can stop himself, he is reaching out, a hand on Minseok’s elbow to guide him away from the wall he was about to smack into and over two feet to his right so he makes it to the bathroom.
He gets an embarrassed thanks before the door closes.
Kris sticks around, answering Minseok’s call of his name when he pops his head out. There are several prescription medicines still in the bag - some for pain and others for the burns. Minseok leans back against the counter and tilts his head up to make it easier.
Kris carefully unwraps the gauze keeping the bandages in place over Minseok’s eyes. He has seen his fair share of injuries, but that doesn’t mean he ever gets used to it. The skin underneath is a vivid pink, yellowing around the edges where dead skin flakes away. It looks painful and Minseok hisses as the fibers pull at the sensitive flesh when he carefully peels up the bandages.
Minseok opens his eyes and a hollow pit opens in Kris’ chest. They’re lifeless, unable to focus as he stares straight ahead. His pupils are small, showing off the myriad of browns that make up his irises. The whites of his eyes are more yellow than white with splotches of pink in the more irritated areas.
“Is it bad?” Minseok asks in a small voice.
“Not really,” Kris lies.
He’s as gentle as he can be when he presses a cool, damp rag on the burns to wipe off the residual ointment and errant patches of peeled up skin. Minseok keeps still, but Kris sees his jaw clenching with each pass, fingers curled tight around the corner of the counter until his knuckles turn white.
The medicated cream he applies goes on smooth and Minseok seems to relax. It’s cool to the touch with a silky glide that helps Kris get it everywhere it needs to be. Minseok closes his eyes and Kris swipes his thumbs over his eyelids, taking care not to use too much pressure. When he’s finished, Minseok sighs in relief.
His eyes and skin are still too sensitive to withstand direct light, so Kris has to carefully put new bandages back on. He tightens it a little too much and Minseok winces, one of his hands pushing on Kris’ chest in reaction. Kris lets up, unrolling the gauze and starting over.
“Thank you,” Minseok whispers when Kris is finished.
Kris looks down at the palm on his chest, fingers tapping over where his heart is. “You’re welcome.”
Minseok is surprisingly easy to get along with, all things considered. Minseok is stubborn and proud, refusing to seek out help for things that he used to be able to do so easily, but now has trouble with. And Kris still doesn’t offer, watching as Minseok goes from frustrated to triumphant when he finally gets it on his own.
Kris does make the mistake of stepping in when his assistance wasn’t wanted once. Minseok keeps stubbing his toes against walls and furniture as he navigates a house he isn’t used to. So after the first few times, he shuffles into the living room to put his shoes on as armor. Kris is propped against the wall, watching as Minseok struggles with the laces.
One loud sigh after another and Kris walks over, kneeling down to take them from Minseok and tie them for him. “I can do it myself,” Minseok barks, pushing at Kris’ arm once he finds it. Kris falls back and watches Minseok fight a little longer before tucking the laces into the sides and walking off slowly.
Most people would relish the chance to be waited on, to lay about and bemoan their misfortune while making Kris’ life a living hell. Kris is thankful for the reprieve, but he worries. He understands Minseok’s need to prove himself, to show that his life hasn’t changed because of the attack, however, his life has changed.
After one failed shower attempt, Minseok has now conceded that he needs Kris in the room with him. He calls out when he needs the shampoo, Kris sliding it through the curtain and pressing it into his palm. And thus it goes with the conditioner and body wash. And when he’s finished with his shower, Kris keeps his back turned as Minseok dresses.
Minseok holds his head high as Kris runs the razor up his neck, taking three day old stubble and shaving cream with it. Every morning he changes the bandages, bearing witness to the slow healing skin and staring into sightless pupils. It’s a little unnerving.
Kris takes Minseok to the hospital for regular appointments and waits outside as Minseok has his eyes and burns checked. He keeps watch on everyone who walks in and out, hands folded in his lap and legs crossed. Minseok never looks happy when they leave, but he doesn’t choose to share and Kris doesn’t pry.
Pizza and chinese food get boring about eight days in because that’s all Minseok does for food. And he still hasn’t caught on that he needs to warn Kris that a delivery person is going to show up, setting off all the alarms until Kris concludes there’s no threat. Jongdae thinks it’s terribly funny. Kris does not.
For a man who can not see, Minseok is very proficient with his phone. Kris makes it to his room and takes it out of his hand, hanging up on whichever food place was on the other line this time. “No more,” he says. “My intestines have started a revolt against my stomach because of your taste for takeout.”
Minseok fidgets, a frown on his face and Kris actually feels bad about it. “It’s not that I have a taste for it,” he explains, shoulders hunched. “But I can’t cook like this.”
Minseok looks so infinitesimally small, like a child who needs protecting, but doesn’t want to ask for it. Kris rests a hand on his shoulder in understanding. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“Full service babysitting?”
“Do you want me to cook or not?”
“Yes please.”
Kris leads Minseok down toward the kitchen. Minseok trails his fingers along the wall, letting his arm drop when it’s out of reach.
The pantry is well-stocked, but there’s little in the refrigerator. Kris decides on something simple - pasta. Minseok sits at the table, chin propped on his hand and face turned toward where Kris is running water into a pot.
“Where are the spoons?” Kris asks, more to draw Minseok into conversation than anything. But Minseok just shrugs with a noncommittal hum. “Don’t you live here?”
“I was stashed here to be out of the way,” Minseok answers with a bite of venom seeping into his tone. “There’s nothing better than being told you’re the weak-link and you have to disappear for a while.”
“So no home sweet home,” Kris comments, at ease with speaking so freely now. It’s an odd thing, conversing with his charge as if he’s a friend, but then, Kris is short of friends and Minseok is the kind he wouldn’t mind keeping around.
“What about you?” Minseok asks. “What’s your home like?”
Kris locates a large spoon and leans against the counter beside the stove, waiting for the water to boil. “I have an apartment. It’s not large like this, but I don’t need it to be.”
“This place makes me feel vulnerable,” Minseok explains, fingers tracing patterns on the table even if he can’t see them. “It must be nice not to feel exposed at every corner.”
“Well,” Kris starts in an attempt to lighten the mood, “it doesn’t hurt that I’ve alarmed the place and there’s a gun stashed in every room.”
It does the trick. Minseok laughs, his entire face brightening. Kris imagines how he would look fully healed, the bandages gone and his eyes wrinkling around the corners.
“Remind me not to try and rob you.”
Kris watches as small bubbles linger at the bottom of the pot and he sighs.
>>how goes the mannyguarding?
>>pleasantly boring
>>good to hear
>>i have a favor to ask
Kris’ phone rings a moment later and he picks up the call. “I want to move him.”
“Why? You just said it was boring and I’ve seen nothing on the cameras to indicate this is an unsafe environment.”
Kris sighs, rubbing his eyes. How can he explain this without it sounding completely ridiculous? This job is about security, not comfort. The number of nights Kris has spent with little to no sleep or only a flat, hard surface to rest on in the name of security is countless. Maybe he’s getting too old for this, too soft.
He thinks about Minseok, about his few genuine smiles and imagines how many more he would freely give if not stifled under the thumb of his father. “This place is too large for a blind man,” Kris begins, clinging to a thread of hope that Jongdae won’t see right through him. “If I can get him somewhere smaller, not only will it be easier for us both, but there won’t be a need for constant monitoring. He’ll be easier to protect.”
Jongdae is quiet on the other line and the only reason Kris knows he hasn’t been hung up on is because of the steady breathing. “I think I can spin that to make it work. Upper management will buy it.”
Kris breathes out a sigh of relief.
“But don’t think for one second that I do.”
All that relief rushes out and Kris slumps down onto his bed. “It’s a solid reason.”
“And one you’ve never given before. I know you, remember? There’s something going on that you aren’t telling me. I can smell it from here.”
“Maybe when this is all over, I’ll find a new tech.”
Jongdae barks out a laugh. “Please. Every agent here would give their left nut to have me.”
Kris hangs up and lays back on the mattress, ignoring the ping of a new text message that comes in a few seconds later. It’s just Jongdae getting his feathers ruffled from being hung up on.
Kris gets authorization to move Minseok to a new, secure location by the end of the day.
Kris unlocks the door to his apartment and walks in enough to disable the alarm before leading Minseok inside. It’s a short tour - guiding Minseok directly right and into the square of his kitchen, then around the bar to the living room. He hears Minseok counting his paces under his breath.
Then on to the bathroom and finally the bedroom where Minseok will be sleeping.
“You would be the chivalrous type,” Minseok jokes. “And I suppose you’re going to be on the couch.”
“Not a chance,” Kris answers. “I have a blow up mattress I’ll be using so I don’t have to leave you alone. There aren’t cameras here. I need to be able to keep you in sight.”
“How romantic,” Minseok mumbles, but it’s just loud enough for Kris to catch. And he finds his stomach dipping at the innocent comment.
“This is acceptable, isn’t it?” Kris finds himself asking, suddenly worried that he’s making his guest - charge - uncomfortable. He’d thought moving them here was a good idea born from Minseok’s desires to be out of that house, but maybe he’d read it wrong. And it bothers him that Minseok’s opinion matters.
Minseok grins, reaching out to feel for the mattress before bouncing down on it. “It’s great.”
Minseok takes to Kris’ apartment quickly, always with a hand trailing over a wall or a piece of furniture as he learns the twists and turns to get where he needs to go.
Minseok’s clothes hang in Kris’ closet, his shoes beside the door and his presence scattered about. Kris has never had someone so thoroughly invade a space that’s his and he wrestles with it daily. Minseok is his job, his responsibility and the lines are beginning to blur. The protective instinct to keep Minseok away from harm reaches passed business and into personal. It’s frightening and thrilling and Kris does his best to keep himself in check.
Minseok has his head resting on the arm of the couch, hair all out of sorts and socked feet bouncing up and down on the cushion to the beat of the song on his ipod that’s plugged into Kris’ speakers. It’s a serene setting and Kris hesitates to make his presence known.
So of course, his phone chimes and even though it’s in his pocket, it rings loud enough to be heard over the music.
still boring enough for you
Kris sighs at Jongdae’s text before sending back a curt yes. When he looks back up, Minseok is facing his direction.
“Just the office,” he explains.
Minseok nods as he reaches for the remote sitting on his lap. He accidentally turns up the volume and jumps a little before lowering it down to background noise. “So what do you do for fun? I can’t imagine someone like you sitting still for long between jobs.”
Kris smiles, walking around so he can sit on the couch next to Minseok. “I go to a gym,” he confesses. “Sometimes I’ll catch a movie if anything decent is playing, but otherwise I’m a pretty boring guy.”
Minseok scrunches his nose in distaste. “Yeah, that’s kinda boring. How are you supposed to land a wife with hobbies like that?”
Kris full on snorts before he can stop himself, earning an open mouthed gawk from Minseok. “A wife isn’t exactly on my agenda.”
“Oh? Then what is?”
Kris pretends to think about it for a moment, leaning forward so he can get a good view of Minseok’s reaction. “A boyfriend maybe.” Minseok’s eyebrows raise nearly to his hairline, forehead all wrinkled and lips in a circle. “Does that bother you?”
“No. Should it?”
“No,” Kris breathes, relaxing back on the arm of the couch. “What about you?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend, if that’s what you’re asking,” Minseok answers with a cheeky grin.
Kris knocks his knee against Minseok’s foot. “I meant hobbies.”
“I love to dance,” Minseok starts, sitting up higher with a bright smile on his face. “And reading and sneaking onto the roof when it rains.” Kris wants to reach out and trace Minseok’s lips with his fingers, taste the words coming out of his mouth because they sound so sweet, so enticing. “I used to fold lucky paper stars,” he adds. “And I’d write a little quote from a book inside each one before taking them to the orphanage downtown.” Then the light fades and Minseok seems to melt back in the cushions a little. “My father said it was great publicity to be seen in such a place, but that I needn’t bother with something as useless as orphans. He always seems to take a personal vendetta against everything I love.”
“Well he’s not here now.”
“And yet he still manages to keep me prisoner.” Kris has never heard Minseok’s tone so cold, watching as Minseok brushes his hand over his bandages.
Kris reaches out and takes Minseok’s hand, squeezing it tight in his own. “Not forever.”
Minseok gives a sad laugh. “Nothing is forever.”
Minseok’s next doctor’s appointment goes significantly better than the previous ones; Kris can tell by the way he’s practically vibrating when the nurse leads him out of the room so Kris can take him by the arm.
Minseok doesn’t even wait for Kris to ask. “I can see light,” he blurts out with a joyous laugh. “I mean, it’s just faint outlines and stuff, but I can see,” he continues as Kris leads him through the halls.
Kris finds himself grinning, elated that Minseok is getting better. “Well this calls for a celebration.”
“Oh yeah?” Minseok queries with his head tilted to the side. “Like what?”
Kris’ initial answer was going to be alcohol, but a few of Minseok’s prescriptions advise against drinking while taking them, so he goes for the next best thing. “Cake. Any kind of cake you want.”
A quick trip to the grocery store, with Minseok standing on the bottom of the cart and holding onto the handlebars as Kris pushes him around, and they end up buying several different cake mixes because someone can’t seem to make up his mind. Kris has to get more eggs and cooking oil as well since he’s bound to run out quickly.
They get several strange looks and Kris is highly aware of the gun strapped to his side as he keeps vigilant. This may be a joy trip, but that doesn’t mean he’s about to let his guard down.
As soon as they’re back in Kris’ apartment, Minseok leaving his shoes at the door and jacket on the hook he’s learned the location of without having to feel around anymore, Kris puts all the mixes on the counter. There’s yellow, chocolate, butter pecan and strawberry.
“We can leave out the butter pecan and make a neapolitan cake,” Minseok suggests.
“Mix them together?” Kris asks skeptically, lip curling at the thought.
Minseok scoffs. “No, we make one layer of each. You have a sheet cake pan, don’t you?”
“Do you know how long that’s going to take?” Kris whines half-heartedly, knowing that Minseok is going to get what he wants either way.
“This is my celebration,” Minseok says. “And we’re going to do it properly.” Kris jumps when Minseok smacks a hand on the side of his leg, very close to his ass. “So get to it.”
“I should leave all the dishes for you. That way they’ll be dry and hard to clean by the time you can see.”
Minseok clucks his tongue and makes himself comfortable leaning against the counter as Kris gets to work. And really, he doesn’t mind in the least. It’s nice doing something as crazy as a triple layer cake on a whim. Kris isn’t known for his spontaneity, but he thinks he could get used to it with Minseok around.
It takes hours. Kris only has one cake pan and they have to wait for one cake to cook and then cool enough to take out of the pan before washing it and putting the next bowl of batter in. His entire apartment smells sweet and he makes sure to put the empty mixing bowl in front of Minseok because he likes to swipe his finger along the bottom to lick off the excess.
It has Kris desperately trying to derail a newly formed train of thought.
“You should see this,” Kris says as all three sheet cakes sit atop cooling racks on his small kitchen table.
“Take a picture for me.”
Kris takes several pictures with Minseok’s phone. “They need to cool for a while before we put on the frosting.”
“Suggestions to pass the time?”
Kris swallows down his first answer and opts for something that doesn’t involve stepping over that ever blurring professional line.
Minseok’s burns are mostly healed. The skin is less irritated, smooth under his fingers with only the occasional rough patch now. Kris has Minseok’s face in his hands, thumbs rubbing his medicated cream underneath his eyes. He leans in, tugged forward by the strings tied tight around his heart until he can feel Minseok’s breath on his mouth. The urge to take and take and take is simmering under Kris’ skin and he swallows, his tongue thick and throat clogging with everything he isn’t saying.
“Kris,” Minseok whispers, voice barely heard over the hammering of Kris’ heart. “What are you doing?”
Kris pulls away, struggling to pull himself together. “Nothing,” he answers, hoping Minseok doesn’t notice the way he has to force the word out. He fumbles with the bandages, fingers refusing to cooperate as he loses his grip several times and the gauze unrolls into the sink. Minseok finds Kris’ wrist with his fingers, wrapping them firmly around him and while it’s supposed to be settling, it unnerves Kris. He’s quick, but careful, as he finishes before he stumbling out of the room.
When Minseok comes out a few minutes later, Kris has already decided to convince himself that it never happened. It’s as if Minseok is melting himself into the cracks of Kris’ life, slowly edging in and Kris is defenseless against it. His heart is already on the road to betrayal and his mind isn’t far behind. He has to control himself, maintain that separation or things may unravel quickly.
“You sound tired,” Jongdae remarks through the receiver.
Kris sits on the couch, phone cushioned between his ear and shoulder lazily. Minseok is asleep and Kris should be too, but he feels too restless. “Nothing a vacation won’t cure,” he jokes.
“You? Vacation? Alright, who are you and where is Kris?”
Kris laughs, slinking further onto the cushions, laying down to get comfortable. “I think I’ve earned one.”
“You have,” Jongdae says with a sigh. “And where would you go? Do you even have friends to go with?”
“Somewhere tropical, I think.”
“So you’re a sun in your face, wind in your hair kinda guy. Never would have pegged you as the type.”
“People change.”
There silence before Jongdae’s answer. “Or people change you.”
Kris sighs. “Maybe. Or maybe they just bring out what was already there to begin with.”
Jongdae whistles. “You’ve got it bad. Make sure to lay on the romance thick before he can actually see your ugly face.”
“Thanks for the support.”
“Go to bed,” Jongdae orders.
Kris hangs up with a muttered, “good night,” and yawn before shuffling quietly into the bedroom. Minseok is still asleep, curled on his side just as he is every night. There’s a gnawing want in Kris’ chest that feels like it wants to crawl up his throat and strangle him. He’s never dealt with such temptation on a job before and it keeps throwing him off balance.
Kris ends up staring at Minseok’s hand that’s hanging over the edge, fingers curled up toward the ceiling for most of the night, eyes finally closing just before the sun’s rays peek over the horizon. It’s the first morning in years that he’s slept in and Minseok lets him.
It would be a lot simpler to focus on the job and less on Minseok as a man if there were more to do, but aside from checking the door alarm and keeping Minseok tucked close to him when they go to the store, there’s nothing left to do. The company calls - mostly through Jongdae - with updates on the police investigation and to tell him he’s still needed and Kris watches Minseok as he dances in the middle of the living room, only half paying attention.
He’s moved the coffee table out and now there’s a large space between the couch and entertainment center for Minseok to move without fear of slamming into something. And Minseok takes advantage of it daily. It keeps Minseok occupied at the very least, leading to less questions asked of Kris’ personal life and more about his taste in music (which Minseok thinks is borderline horrific).
It’s been four days since the Almost Kiss that Kris has failed to forget when he realizes that even though he’s the one guarding Minseok, Minseok is the one who is leading him around.
“You ready?” Minseok asks, expertly tying the laces on his sneakers now that he’s gotten enough practice. “We should try to get there early in case they can take me. That way we can get to the grocery store before it gets dark. I know you don’t like driving in the dark.”
Kris halts, the door halfway open and knob still in his hand. “What? I’ve never -”
“You fidget when you drive at night. I can hear it. And you also bump my arm a lot more because you keep your hand on the gear shift.”
Kris is still shell-shocked when Minseok takes him by the wrist, hand trailing down Kris’ arm before he finds the right hold and tugs him forward. It sends Kris’ head reeling, unprepared for the touch and he allows himself to be led down the hall. Minseok even knows where the button for the elevator is.
Between getting on the elevator and walking through the lobby, Minseok has managed to link their hands, waiting until they get outside before deferring to Kris’ lead because he’s back in unfamiliar territory.
“I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” Minseok asks after they’re on the road.
“No. But it makes me wonder what else you’ve figured out about me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Kris can see Minseok smile as he leans his head on the window. From this angle he can’t even see the slightly discolored skin that peeks out from under the bandages.
“The first thing you do every morning is check your phone, followed by using the bathroom and hopping in the shower. Every two days you shave - the smell of your aftershave is strong. After you brush your teeth you check your phone again.”
“Christ,” Kris mutters under his breath. Minseok’s managed to nail down his entire morning routine, but what’s more surprising is that Kris had always assumed Minseok slept through it.
“Sorry. It’s just that I don’t really have much in the way of entertainment and you’re the most fascinating thing around.”
Kris feels his cheeks burning with a blush, thankful that at least Minseok can’t see it. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he rumbles awkwardly.
Minseok laughs. “If it makes you feel any better, your routine has gotten me through a lot of rough mornings when I didn’t want to get out of bed at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“I still dream in color.” Minseok sighs, his breath fogging the window before fading away. “And when I wake up it’s gone. Who wants to live in a world of darkness? But then I hear you moving around with your borderline ocd schedule and I realize that just because I’m broken doesn’t mean the world stops.”
Kris pulls into the parking lot and looks at Minseok, carefully resting his hand over Minseok’s and squeezing. “It’s alright if your world stops, but only for a little while.” And then he retreats, pulling away and getting out of the car, walking around to wait for Minseok to do the same.
“Thank you,” Minseok says softly and Kris silently guides him into the hospital with Minseok’s fingers tight in the crook of his elbow.
Kris sits in the waiting room as always, eyes flicking to the people around him to observe. Time seems to slow to a crawl and he dislikes the way his thoughts try to crash in on him like a tidal wave. This hope is taking hold in his chest, the spark of a flame stoked by the knowledge that Minseok pays attention to him in more than a we’re squeezed together for the foreseeable future so we might as well make the best of it way.
It’s nice, he thinks, this onset of events because it’s been so long since he’s cared about anything on more than a base level.
When Minseok comes out, Kris is sitting there with a gummy grin on his face that only grows wider as Minseok stops in front of him. The bandages are gone and even though his hair is hopelessly indented all the way around his head and he can’t stop blinking, he looks like he’s about to burst with joy.
He’s eager when he clutches Kris’ arm, a bounce in his step. “Doctor said I’ve healed enough that exposure to light won’t do any damage,” he starts. “Everything is a mass of blurry lines and my eyes sting, but holy shit, I can see.”
By the time they reach the car, Minseok is squinting. “Is your car gray?”
“Black.”
Minseok makes a small noise, but falls silent. They’re nearly halfway home when he speaks again, too busy staring out the window even though he can’t properly make anything out. “Hey, can we get ice cream?”
It becomes a game. Day by day, Minseok’s eyesight improves, although Kris still watches him close his eyes to walk familiar paths without seeing when it all gets to be too much. There are little bottles of eye drops stashed everywhere now because of it.
“Are you sure your couch is plum?” Minseok asks, his face barely a foot away from the upholstery.
“No, I’ve been fucking with you for two days. Yes, it’s plum.”
“It looks blue.”
“It looks purple.”
Minseok narrows his eyes and peers over at Kris who is sitting on the other end of said piece of furniture. “You still haven’t told me what color your eyes are.”
Kris’ heart flutters and he smiles knowingly. “And I told you that you have to tell me when you can see them properly.”
Minseok huffs and flops on the couch, uncaring that he’s squishing Kris’ feet with his thighs. “You’re terrible. I bet your eyes aren’t even that special. You just look like a blob to me. A blob with blond hair and a pink splotch where your mouth is. Very uninviting if you ask me.”
Kris wakes up in the morning and flinches back, eyes wide because Minseok’s face is severely close to his own. “Oh,” Minseok breathes as if he’s made some startling revelation.
“What?” Kris mumbles, voice thick as he sits up on an elbow, running a hand over his hair in an attempt to flatten it.
“You’re much better looking than I thought.”
There’s bait dangling in his face, but Kris lets it slide by as an opportunity lost. “You can see me?”
“Mostly.”
“What color are my eyes?”
The breath catches in Kris’ throat when Minseok leans closer, hands on his cheeks to tilt his head up. Longing bubbles to the surface and Kris finds himself frozen, unable to even blink as Minseok peers at him curiously. “I saw you,” Minseok finally says, voice just barely louder than a whisper.
It takes a moment for Kris to answer, his mind clouded. “What?”
“That morning when you were so close,” he begins, eyes darting down to Kris’ lips. “I couldn’t see more than your silhouette because of the light behind you, but I thought -”
Kris lifts higher, looking for a sign to stop and seeing none. “Thought what?” The tips of their noses are a hairsbreadth away from touching and Kris can see right into Minseok’s healed eyes, irises a gorgeous brown.
“You were going to kiss me,” Minseok breathes out.
There’s silence save for the erratic beating of Kris’ heart and the sound of Minseok’s breathing mixing with his own. “Did you want me to?”
Minseok answers with a kiss, a soft drop of his lips on Kris’ before pulling away, eyebrows furrowed and uncertainty written in his features. So Kris kisses him again, this time with a hand on the back of his head to keep him there. Minseok falls forward abruptly and knocks Kris’ elbow out from under him, sending them both back onto the air mattress. After a few moments of shock, they both start laughing, Minseok ducking in an attempt to hide the blush on his cheeks.
It’s been a long time since Kris has felt like this - giddy and undeniably happy and ready to greet the day with a smile on his face and the addition of a person at his side through his morning routine. Minseok doesn’t try to shower with him, but he does hop in right after, shirt coming off over his head before Kris can turn around.
Kris can’t think of any of this as a job when Minseok hovers beside him as he makes pancakes for breakfast, stealing the first one for himself and drowning it in butter and blueberry syrup before it’s had time to cool. Minseok shares, fork up to Kris’ mouth. He ends up smearing syrup over his lips and cheek, laughing as he grabs damp paper towel to clean him off. Kris pulls him in for a kiss for compensation.
Their blissful little domestic bubble doesn’t last for long.
Minseok’s been quiet, withdrawn since the phone call he’d gotten from his father the day before. After getting word from Minseok’s doctor that his eyesight was much improved, his father took no time in deciding it was necessary for Minseok to get back out into the world - be seen at his father’s side for publicity. Which means Kris has been pulling a lifeless Minseok around with him to pick up his suit for the charity event they’re to attend this evening.
Kris got word from his company not long after Minseok did because they’ll be filling out the regular security with guards of their own. It means Chanyeol and Tao are likely to be there and that makes Kris feel a little better about having Minseok in such a public venue when they still haven’t caught whoever tried to kill him.
Minseok looks like he’s getting ready for his own funeral.
“Nothing will happen to you,” Kris assures Minseok, voice low and comforting. He keeps a hand on the side of Minseok’s neck, thumb caressing under his ear. “There will be plenty of security and I’ll be at your side the entire night.”
“Promise?” Minseok looks up at him with wide, fearful eyes. Kris has always been the protective type, but Minseok takes it to a new level and while he knows Minseok is fine on his own, knowing there is still someone out there who wants him dead has Minseok afraid. And Kris can’t blame him. It’s irresponsible for his father to pull him out for something so trivial, but Kris has no say in the matter.
“I promise.”
This is the type of environment Kris is used to - a ball room decorated to the nines with people buzzing about wearing clothing that costs more than what the average citizen makes in a year. They see right through him, content in knowing that he doesn’t belong in their world, but he’ll make it a little safer with his presence. Minseok has a death grip on his arm, fingers holding tight enough to leave bruises behind, but Kris doesn’t pry him away.
Chanyeol and Tao are conversing in low tones through Kris’ earpiece and he half pays attention while keeping his eyes on the area around them. Minseok seems to know what he’s doing, pausing at certain groups of people and passing others by with a nod of his head and a smile. He’s putting on a show.
“Relax, Kris,” Chanyeol whispers. “I can see you gritting your teeth from halfway across the room.”
Kris rolls his eyes, but complies. He can’t help it. He’s on edge more than usual, terrified that something is going to slip passed their notice and Minseok will be hurt or worse because of it. This is precisely the reason a bodyguard doesn’t get emotionally invested in their charge. It leaves him compromised, unable to see things rationally.
Kris takes in several calming breaths and blinks himself out of it. He can do this. He can be objective.
“And here I was feeling sorry for you for being saddled with private security, but if I’d known he was this hot, I’d have hired one for myself.”
Minseok spins, the smile on his face genuine as his eyes wrinkle and nearly disappear. “Luhan!” Minseok releases Kris long enough to throw his arms around the man. Kris appraises him warily behind a blank face. When Minseok pulls away, he hooks his arm with Kris’ again. “Luhan, this is Kris. Kris, this is my sometimes best friend.”
“Sometimes?” Luhan questions dramatically. “You wound me.”
“When you’re around,” Minseok says critically. “Luhan is fond of disappearing and then popping up randomly.”
“I might have to borrow Kris when you’re done for my next trip,” Luhan responds with a sly grin. Minseok rolls his eyes and proceeds to drag Kris away from where Luhan is now pursuing a waiter with a tray of champagne flutes.
“He seems friendly,” Kris mumbles a minute later only to have Minseok flash him with a glare. It takes every ounce of self control Kris possesses not to kiss the look right off Minseok’s face. “Don’t worry,” Kris whispers in apology. “He’s not my type.”
“Then what is your type?”
Kris lays a hand over Minseok’s and squeezes for a moment before dropping his arm. “You are.”
Minseok is blushing, but he looks pleased as they continue their circuit of the room.
“You do know we can hear every word you say, right?” comes Tao’s voice through Kris’ earpiece followed by Chanyeol’s snickering.
“Not a word to Jongdae,” Kris threatens.
“Or what?” Chanyeol inquires, standing tall and imposing near the entrance, but Kris can see the barely contained smile on his face.
“Celebratory drinks are on you when this is all over,” Tao cuts in, putting an end to the argument when Kris sighs and gives a slight nod of his head.
Minseok is peering at Kris curiously, so he winks and watches Minseok’s not so subtle eyeroll. The mood evaporates when Minseok’s father pulls Minseok to his side, a hand tight on the back of his neck as he speaks into his ear. They’re walking toward a stage at the end of the room and Minseok looks frightened out of his mind, face a sickly pale and his fingers cutting harsh into Kris’ arm.
There’s no time for Kris to calm him before Minseok is dragged on stage, Kris left on the sidelines. All attention is drawn to the men up front and Kris feels his heart racing, just waiting for something to happen. He knows Chanyeol and Tao are out there and the venue has its own security, but that doesn’t make him feel better about it. Maybe it’s because Minseok looks so helpless and frail up there, hands balled at his sides and eyes wide and unblinking. And maybe it’s because Kris’ heart is up there with him.
It’s a short speech with the perfunctory sweet lies of caring about nothing more than family and wanting to help other families be as fortunate as his own. Minseok looks ready to bolt and nearly does as soon as it’s over. He rushes to Kris’ side, hand on Kris’ elbow to pull him down. “Get me out of here.”
Chanyeol and Tao assure Kris they have everything under control before he leaves, leading Minseok out with hurried steps. Minseok is wound tight, shoulders tense and lips in a thin line even after they’re in the car and speeding toward home. His left leg bounces and his eyes are glued out the window, but Kris has the feeling he’s not taking in the scenery this time.
The entire ride is silent, the radio switched off with only the purr of the engine in the background. Kris doesn’t know what to say and Minseok doesn’t seem to want to voice his thoughts. Kris feels helpless.
Nothing changes until they get into the apartment, Kris barely getting the door locked behind him before Minseok cracks. He’s shaking, arms around Kris’ neck to pull him down. Their kiss is frantic, Minseok breathing heavily through his nose and clutching at Kris’ hair for more.
Minseok pushes and pulls and Kris lets him because it seems to be calming him. It doesn’t hurt that Minseok’s mouth is warm and Kris can’t get enough, lips parting with a low moan as Minseok licks through them. Kris keeps his hands on Minseok’s waist mostly for balance because he’s being moved.
His shoulder glances off the doorframe to his room, but it’s easy enough to ignore when Minseok has a hand under his shirt, palm hot as it runs up his stomach and chest. Kris gets his suit jacket off before being manhandled onto the bed. Minseok is over him, shrugging out of his own jacket as he kisses Kris again.
He’s shaking. Kris sits up, arms around Minseok to pin his wandering hands to his sides. Minseok whines and tries to wiggle out of it until Kris drops a soft, chaste kiss on his mouth. “Hey,” he whispers, drawing Minseok attention. “It’s alright. Everything’s alright. You’re safe.”
Minseok finally relaxes, slumping against Kris with his face pressed to Kris’ neck. His breathing is shaky and when Kris releases his arms, he rests them gently around Kris’ torso. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok. I’ve got you now. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Kris holds Minseok until he’s stopped trembling and his breathing is even. And when he peels him away, it’s only to guide Minseok up so they can get ready for bed. It’s nearing midnight and they’re both exhausted.
This time, Minseok pulls Kris next to him on the mattress, refusing to let him go. There’s a devastating beauty in the way Minseok bends around him, body molding against Kris’ until it’s impossible to tell one from the other. His fingers fit in the space between Kris’ own, face buried in the curve of Kris’ neck and legs tangled together under the sheets.
“Is this against the rules?” Minseok asks in a soft, muffled voice.
“Yes,” Kris answers without hesitation.
Minseok just holds him tighter, like he’s afraid Kris is going to let go. It’s a preposterous idea. Kris is already too far gone to turn back now. He gathers Minseok closer and falls asleep with him safe in his arms.
Things don’t end with a bang like they do in the movies. There’s no blazing gun fight where he saves Minseok’s life and takes a bullet for him. It doesn’t lead to a confession at the side of his hospital bed, true love winning out in the end. It’s all a bit more mundane than that.
Kris gets a phone call from his boss a little after ten in the morning three days after the charity event, notifying him that the people responsible for the attack have been apprehended and Minseok no longer needs their services. He’ll need to go down to the office and fill out the usual paperwork that afternoon
The thing is, even after Kris tells Minseok that their time is over, Minseok doesn’t leave. His clothes still end up mixed with Kris’ in the dryer, his favorite snack foods at home in Kris’ pantry and the pillows on the bed smelling of Minseok’s shampoo. It’s something Kris doesn’t feel the need to change and he happily sits back as Minseok thoroughly takes over his home and his heart.
It’s been a week and neither of them talk about what this is, content to let things be until they’re forced to put a label on it. They’re laying on the couch, watching one of the many movies Minseok missed out on for the third time before the subject of Kris’ job is brought up. Minseok rolls over to look at Kris before speaking.
“Now that your assignment is over, what are you going to do? Wait around for the next?”
Kris settles a palm on the back of Minseok’s neck, thumb brushing over the soft hair on his nape. “I was thinking about disappearing for a while.”
“Oh?” Minseok sighs, shifting closer as his eyes slip closed.
“Yeah. Want to come with me?”
Minseok hums, smiling and curling more into Kris with an arm slung over his waist. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Kris laughs into Minseok’s hair and feels Minseok settle against him. Maybe it’s time for retirement.