DAY TEN ★ come into the night with me
Username: khrysallis1106
Prompt #: 49 [prompt details]Yifan lives a rather blissful normal married life with X until someone from his sketchy past shows up and kidnaps X. Yifan was a mafia boss' son who wants nothing to do with his family's business. But now that his father is in his deathbed, he is the only heir to China's biggest syndicate.
Title: come into the night with me
Ship: Kai/Yifan
Rating: R
Word count: 5,500 words
Warnings: Violence, minor character death
Summary: Yifan is not the person he seems to be.
Notes: Dear prompter, I hope this is in accordance to what you’re looking for! :)
"Hi, love."
The term of endearment brings a smile to his face the moment he picks up the call, the wedding band on his left ring finger pressing into flesh when his grip tightens around his phone. Right on time.
"Hi to you too, love," he greets, feeling the smile stretch even wider when he hears lovely laughter coming from the other end of the line.
"I hope you're not driving-" The voice warns mildly, just as Yifan cuts the engine to his car, having just parked moments before his phone had rang, "-or I'm actually going to come over to your office and kick your ass when I have the time."
"No, Jongin. Your timing is always impeccable." Yifan actually laughs this time, leaning into the leather seat of his car and closing his eyes in perfect bliss. Just three years ago, Yifan would have scoffed at the idea of him getting married and living a perfectly domestic life with someone else. Right now, though, he couldn't have imagined a life more perfect than this, being happily married to none other than Kim Jongin.
They'd met through the most clichéd of circumstances, if Yifan has to admit it himself. Yifan was a top-notch accountant who'd been tasked to audit the accounts of a talent management company - the very one Jongin's working at, as a professional dancer for the talent groups under its wing. On the day that he was supposed to visit the company, Jongin had ran into him in his haste to get to practice, apparently having overslept that morning. Yifan remembered being completely mesmerised by his strong gaze and soft mannerisms, even more so when he'd watched Jongin's powerful performances on stage. Yifan won't exactly label their relationship as a whirlwind romance, but he sure as hell was knocked off his feet by the tempest called Kim Jongin. Even now, he's still getting swept away by his husband, who's a breath of fresh air in Yifan's previously mundane life.
"Good," Jongin hums just then. "I can't wait till I get home tonight."
"Already?" Yifan teases, and he can already begin imagining the way Jongin's expressions will be set in a half-scowl at the words he's about to say. "The kids under your care will be absolutely devastated to hear that Kai sonsaengnim prefers his husband over them."
"We have unfinished business, asshole," Jongin mutters darkly, evidently displeased. Yifan is reminded of how he'd nibbled on Jongin's neck and ran his hands up Jongin's jeans-clad thighs, then palming him through his pants, all right before he'd kicked Jongin out of the car at his personal studio with a cheeky grin and a promise that he'll pick up where he had left off in the evening. Jongin had very crudely flipped the finger at Yifan, who had laughed even harder at the flush which decorated his husband's neck.
It's a great sight indeed.
Yifan deliberately switches to his husky voice next. "Don't think too much about me, alright? You wouldn't want your students to ask about your boner in the middle of the class." He says, and counts down from three.
As if on cue, Jongin hurls a string of expletives at him, and Yifan has to really, really hold his laughter back this time. Predictable Jongin. "I swear to God, I will make you pay tonight." He promises, and already Yifan's mind is hard at work, trying to imagine what Jongin might possibly do to him. His cock twitches in his pants when his thoughts linger upon the amount of toys Jongin has hidden away in a drawer, and he wonders if he can coax Jongin into actually using that vibrating plug.
"Give it your best shot, love." Yifan challenges, feeling the anticipation build within him. Jongin never backs down from a challenge, after all, and Yifan definitely won't object to anything that might spice up their already-vibrant married life.
That's when the sound of squealing children reaches his ears, and Yifan disappointedly shoots a look at the clock on his dashboard display. It's almost time for Jongin's first class to start. "I guess I'll see you tonight, then?"
"Yeah," Jongin affirms, tone laced with disappointment at having to hang up. Even though they've been married for over a year now, chatting on the phone when they were apart never becomes a bore. "I love you, Yifan."
The words manage to put a smile back on his face, and Yifan grins as he says, "I love you too."
When Jongin finally cuts the call, Yifan climbs out of the car and shuts the door, locking it before heading towards the elevators. Nine more hours till he sees Jongin again.
₳
An uneasy feeling fills his senses the moment Yifan steps into the parking lot after work. An unmistakable sensation of being watched, of being hunted down. It's a feeling that's been forgotten for so long that it's almost foreign, and rather than the usual thrill, trepidation envelops him instead.
Yifan looks around surreptitiously, but sees no one else in the parking lot with him. His grip on his briefcase tightens, mentally calculating twenty steps from the door to his car, ten if he ran. Plenty of time for anything at all to happen.
Pretending he hasn't realised that something is amiss, Yifan switches his briefcase to his non-dominant hand, and begins walking casually to his car, free hand in his pocket.
The entire ordeal unfolds faster than he'd imagined, though. Five steps across the parking lot, and already Yifan can hear someone charging at him, footsteps loud as the other person runs the rest of the distance from the furthest pillar towards Yifan. His right hand dives into the pocket of his coat at once, brandishing a dagger with a hilt bearing a dragon's motif before the other man can even reach him.
Dropping his briefcase, Yifan locks his left arm around the neck of the other man the exact moment that he comes into Yifan's reach, choking him mercilessly before plunging the dagger right into the man's chest, over the area where his heart is supposed to be, and drags. Yifan pulls away just in time to avoid his clothes getting stained by the blood that spills out of the gaping wound in the man's chest, wiping the blade of his dagger on the dead man's clothes before hiding it from view again.
The gravity of his actions doesn't sink in until moments later, when the adrenaline haze has cleared from his head and Yifan finds himself standing in the middle of a deserted car park with a dead man lying by his feet. The first thought that comes to him isn't fear though; it's anger and worry that he's been found that clouds his mind.
Yifan has never forgotten his roots, what he's been born into, what he is, but it doesn't stop him from wanting to denounce the darker side of him. He's lived in relative peace all these years, concealing his presence between concrete jungles and neatly-pressed suits, never dabbling in what he shouldn't, so Yifan can't think of a reason why his weapons should be in use now.
He doesn't stop to dispose of the body, though, knowing that more will come after him if he ever stalls. Immediately Yifan runs the last of the distance to his car, sliding into the leather seat smoothly and gunning the engine at once, tyres screeching jarringly against asphalt as he drives out of the carpark.
It's not until he's on the streets that Yifan retrieves his phone from his pocket and dials Jongin's number - warning from Jongin to never speak on the phone when he's driving be damned. He holds on to that tiny hope that maybe it's only Yifan that's been discovered, while the rest of his life in Seoul remains concealed, because he can't ever stomach the thought of Jongin getting hurt because of him.
By the time he reaches Jongin's voicemail inbox on his fifth consecutive try, that tiny sliver of hope slips right out of his fingers too, and he can feel the cold sweat beginning to drench his once-pristine office suit. Yifan swallows hard, and slams his foot on the accelerator.
Please be okay.
₳
The studio is eerily silent when Yifan arrives.
It's never like this; Jongin would always continue practising into the evening, even after his last student has left, preferring to keep his muscles and joints moving until Yifan arrives to pick him up for dinner. Yifan would usually reprimand Jongin for abusing his body a lot more than he already does, but right now, Yifan would give anything to be greeted by dubstep music and the sight of a lithe, dancing figure in the practice rooms.
If there's only one thing Yifan can be glad of, it's the fact that the studio is still relatively intact, without any obvious signs of a scuffle having taken place at all. That, and the lack of blood pooling on the floor, is more than Yifan can ever wish for. He knows how callous these people - people like the one who'd tried to kill Yifan - can be, and if they had indeed taken Jongin, Yifan can only hope that they hadn't hurt him at all.
Yifan's heart practically stops when he finds Jongin's iPod lying discarded in the middle of the room he uses the most. Jongin never leaves his iPod alone, and it's a sign that he'd been taken by force. With a heavy heart, Yifan walks towards the device and picks it up, gripping it tightly in his hand.
That's when his phone suddenly rings, ringtone loud in the silence of the studio, making him jump. Yifan's quick to answer it, pulse racing because it's the ringtone he'd set specifically for Jongin - it's their song - and he really, really hopes his husband is okay.
"Jongin!" Yifan yells into the phone the moment he presses it to his ear, even though he'd talked himself through this earlier. The franticness in him isn't allowing him to stay calm, not when his husband's life is at stake, when he's missing. He doesn't even care if Jongin would ask him about it later. "Jongin! Where are you? Are you okay?!"
For a moment there's only silence, then a laugh is carried through the line. Yifan shudders; it doesn't belong to Jongin. "How the mighty have fallen." The man says, and Yifan frowns because he can't recognise it. The man - woman? - is bright enough to utilise a voice modulator to conceal their actual voice.
Then the panic sets in once again when he realises he's being spoken to in his mother tongue; they've found his weakness.
No.
Yifan grows livid at the thought, and he makes his anger known by snarling into the phone. "Who the fuck are you, and what have you done to Jongin?"
More laughter. "My, aren't you a frightening one." The voice possesses a teasing lilt, and it takes all of Yifan's self-control to not hurl his phone into the mirrored wall. No one plays Wu Yifan like this. "I merely invited your... husband, was it? To come along with me on a trip. He's... fast asleep as we speak."
"Don't you dare lay a finger on him." Yifan warns, breaths coming out raggedly. "If I see a single scratch on him, I will fucking slice your fingers off, one by one-"
"Charming." The other man cuts him off brusquely, as though unperturbed by Yifan's warning. "I've seen the CCTV footage of you dispatching the assassin earlier. I must say I'm disappointed, Wu Yifan. This is nowhere close to what you're actually capable of. Such a clean job. Don't worry, though, I've taken care of the body on your behalf."
"What do you want?" Yifan reiterates through gritted teeth. He's in no mood for games or a trip down memory lane; he only wants Jongin back in his arms, safe and sound.
The man hums. "That's a good question. I'll let you know once I figure it out. Keep in touch."
The line goes dead before Yifan can slot another word in, and he really has to physically restrain himself from destroying his phone. Worried, agitated, and above all - filled with dread, Yifan slumps to the parquet flooring on his knees, feeling helpless for the very first time in his life.
What has he gotten Jongin into?
₳
He doesn't know how long he's been holed up in this dingy motel room, but he's sure it's been long enough that he's seeing the patterns on the torn wallpaper move, the base of his spine aching from sitting on the hard flooring for hours on end. The weight of the wedding band is heavy on his finger, a grim reminder of a promise he's failed to keep - the promise to protect Jongin no matter what it takes.
There's nowhere else Yifan could have gone to, not when the ones hunting him down has found his and Jongin's home and had ambushed him when Yifan had wanted to grab some personal belongings. Not wanting to leave any bloodstains on the floor of the apartment unit he shared with Jongin, Yifan had opted to knock them out with a hard blow to the neck. Less of a mess to clean up - in the meantime, anyway. They're bound to find him again eventually, and when that time comes, he will not hesitate to put an end to their lives.
His grip on his phone remains firm. His eyes must be bloodshot now, if the dull ache pounding at the back of his head is any indication of it. But he can't sleep a wink, not until he receives the promised call in return. It's been two long, agonising days, and yet - nothing.
Yifan finds that he can't rest easy either, not when his mind is filled with Jongin, Jongin, Jongin. He knows he's hoping for the impossible, to want Jongin unharmed even when he's held captive. He's talking about the China's mafia here, notorious for their merciless acts; it's the main reason why he had decided to disentangle himself from that world in the first place.
And now it's here to haunt him again.
Yifan jumps, the phone nearly slipping out of his hand when it suddenly starts vibrating. Right now, his and Jongin's song sounds more like a mockery to him, when it's blaring into the stale air of the room. He sucks in a deep breath, wills himself to calm down. It won't do for him to broadcast the fact that he's affected by Jongin's kidnapping to the extent that he's about to lose his grip on sanity. It would bode ill for Jongin's wellbeing, and they will torture Jongin for the sake of seeing Yifan in agony - whoever they are. He feels incredibly exposed, when he's standing in the light while he's being watched from the shadows. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
"Hello?" He says the moment he presses the phone to his ear, wincing when his voice comes out scratchy and hoarse from disuse.
The response is immediate. "Good to hear that you're holding yourself together, Wu Yifan," the voice says, still modified with a modulator. Yifan begins to get suspicious; why would anyone be this meticulous in making sure he doesn't recognise them over the phone? "I see your husband has gotten some of your grittiness. He's surprisingly calm, given the situation he's in."
Yifan tries so, so hard to not get riled up at the mere mention of Jongin. "I have no time for small talk. What do you want?"
A breathy laugh, as if the person on the other side of the line is actually amused. "Succinct and straightforward as always, I see. Tell you what, why don't you fly over to Guangzhou? I prefer talking to you in person. Phones are incredibly... undependable. Easy to tap."
In a split moment's inattention, Yifan lets his inner thoughts slip. "And Jongin?" He blurts before he can even process it, and he instantly regrets his words when another laugh reaches his ear.
"You will find out when you come. Remember, time is running out." The man tells him, and it actually makes Yifan enraged because he's in no mood for some petty fucking game.
"If you hurt him-"
The line goes dead. Yifan punches the wall in frustration until his knuckles come away bloody.
₳
A fucking tasteless game of hide-and-seek. It's what Yifan thinks about all of this, as he takes his first steps into the Port of Guangzhou. The scorpion tattoo on his left arm throbs dully, even though Yifan knows it's probably part of his imagination. A homecoming of sorts, he guesses. Guangzhou is - was - his backyard back in those days, and this very harbour stirs up many unpleasant memories. Memories which Yifan would gladly dissociate himself from.
It's rather claustrophobic, when he's surrounded by cargo containers stacked up to several storeys high. Even though the sun is high up in the sky, he's cast in nothing but shadows as he quietly slips between the paths, trying hard to avoid the workers of the harbour. He doesn't want to get caught for trespassing even before he arrives at the designated warehouse.
It's not after an hour of searching that Yifan finally finds the warehouse where he's supposed to meet the person who'd been bold enough to kidnap Jongin. With trembling hands, he pushes past the heavy metal door, and steps inside cautiously. The inside of the warehouse is oddly silent, a stark contrast from its bustling exterior where everyone is hard at work, and Yifan immediately abandons all his reservations, calling out into the empty warehouse.
"Wherever you are, get the fuck out right now." He growls, growing impatient by the second. The person who'd decided to kidnap Jongin and make Yifan run around in search of him has made a grave mistake - Jongin is the only one Yifan will die to protect, and he will stop at nothing.
Soft laughter fills the air, followed by languid footsteps, and Yifan feels marginally thankful there isn't any pointless stalling. "You have not lost your feistiness, even after all these years." The voice, this time clearly revealing its owner's identity, makes Yifan's eyes grow wide, and he narrows them once again when another man stands before him on the other end of the warehouse, shoulders rolled back and hands in his pockets. That dimpled smile is unmistakable. "Hello, Wu shaoye. We meet again."
"Zhang Yixing." Yifan greets gruffly. When he was initially ambushed, Yifan would never have thought that his own men - let alone his second-in-command - was behind all this. He feels betrayed and confused all over, but he supposes it's only right that karma comes back to bite him in the ass. After all, he's sure his clan had felt the same when he had announced his decision to step out of the underworld, and subsequently disappeared under the radar without anyone being any the wiser. "It's been a long while."
"Indeed. You were good at hiding. It was a difficult task, attempting to dig up your location." Yixing concedes, then smirks. "But I guess we have your husband to thank. If not for his high profile background and his legion of fans, we wouldn't have found you." The way Yixing spits the word 'husband' out like it's made of poison leaves a bitter aftertaste on Yifan's tongue.
"Where is Jongin?" Yifan asks, wanting to make sure that Jongin's safe and sound before he continues to humour Yixing with their little catch-up session.
Yixing smirks again, before walking over to a huge container to his right and dragging someone out of it. Yifan's throat clenches when Jongin's shoved onto the ground, his arms bound behind his back and a gag fashioned out of cloth stuffed into his mouth. There are numerous cuts and bruises marring his perfect olive skin, most noticeably over the apple of his right cheek, making Yifan see red. His gaze meets Jongin's just then, and he finds himself holding back; Jongin's gaze is intense, determined, and most of all, trusting even though Yifan is the prime reason why Jongin's in this situation at all.
"Tell you what-" Yixing speaks up, shattering the silent moment Yifan was sharing with Jongin, and Yifan forces himself to focus his attention on Yixing. "-have a friendly little duel with me. If you win, then I'll let you walk off with your pretty little husband just like that. If you lose, though-" the smirk on his face grows more sinister, "-then I get to kill him right before your very eyes."
Even though Yifan's alarmed by the conditions set by Yixing, he doesn't let his panic show, knowing that it'll expose his weakness to Yixing - if he hasn't already learned of them by now. Instead, Yifan breathes calmly, feeling slightly relieved that their conversation is being held entirely in Chinese. At least Jongin won't have to know they're betting on his life. "Why are you doing this?"
Yixing shrugs, unaffected. "Your father is on his deathbed, and you are his only heir. The sole successor to the Du Xie Clan." He tells Yifan, but Yifan remains unblinking. He's never had any interest in his father's shady businesses to begin with, hence his decision to disappear from Guangzhou and relocate to Seoul in order to carve a new life for himself. Shame it didn't last. "I wouldn't have gone through all this trouble to get you to return to Guangzhou, if he hadn't insisted that you take over from him no matter what."
Yifan scoffs, thumbing the hilt of the handgun that's buried beneath his belt. It's almost time for his trusted companion to make its presence known once again. "You know that old man's senile. You could have pretended that he hadn't made such a request, and took over the position as head of the clan when he dies." He taunts, even though he knows that Yixing would never do such a thing. His loyalties to the clan supersedes his greed for personal gain, and it's the sole reason why he was appointed as Yifan's right hand man at such a young age to begin with. Even when Yifan had left, Yixing still stayed on to help his father with the runnings of the clan, and that makes Yixing honourable above everything else.
Not that Yifan would admit it aloud, of course.
"Do not insult my personal character, Yifan." Yixing warns, this time drawing his own dagger. Yifan should have guessed it; Yixing has a penchant for close-quarters combat rather than fighting with guns. Automated weapons take the fun out of the fight, and Yifan honours his decision by discarding his own gun.
He definitely doesn't pause to wonder why Jongin had looked so calm at the sight of the weapon, but he files that for later - when he wins over Yixing and gets to hold Jongin in his arms once again.
"Less talk-" Yifan roars as he pulls out his dragon-hilted dagger, the very first weapon his father had given to him and started Yifan down a path filled with bloodshed, violence, and illegal businesses. It only seemed fitting that he should utilise it again, now. "-more fighting!"
Yixing obliges with a smirk, dashing towards Yifan and meeting him in the centre of the warehouse with a resounding clang of their daggers. Yifan swallows as he jumps backwards, narrowly avoiding the tip of Yixing's dagger from grazing across his abdomen, cursing his split moment of inattention which saw him watching out for Jongin's safety. He's determined to keep the fight as far away from Jongin as possible, knowing that Yixing might take him hostage and force Yifan to surrender.
"Pay attention, Yifan, or you might really regret it." Yixing's laughter is airy, light, nothing like the aggressive moves he's pulling as he continues to push Yifan back. Yifan grits his teeth; it's been far too long since he's been involved in a fight like this, and it's obvious that Yixing has the upper hand over him. But it doesn't stop Yifan from kicking at Yixing's feet, bringing the man down to the ground with a loud thud.
He curses his lack of agility when Yixing bounces back to his feet before Yifan could even get close enough to land the finishing blow, and stumbles backwards when Yixing launches his leg at Yifan's head. Unfortunately for Yifan, he has forgotten all about the dummy move which Yixing absolutely loves to pull, and he gasps in pain when he ends up getting stabbed right in the abdomen and falls to the floor in an ungraceful heap of limbs.
Yifan isn't given the opportunity to recover, when Yixing strides over and straddles Yifan's abdomen, deliberately applying pressure to the wound in his stomach and making Yifan roar in pain once again. Yifan doesn't flinch when Yixing drives the dagger down towards his face, only to be surprised when it hits the cemented floor instead, mere inches away from his ear.
"You're too precious to be killed, Yifan." Yixing tells him, as if reading his thoughts, then points an angry finger in Jongin's general direction. "And you're a far cry from the dangerous killing machine that you were in the past - all because of that man lying on the floor. Why?"
Yifan lifts his head gingerly to look at Jongin, flashing him a brave smile before laughing at Yixing's words. "What would a person from the underworld like you understand? The only thing that can ever sustain you is the thrill of the illegal trade and the blood of others on your hands."
Yixing raises a mocking brow at him. "Are you, of all people, trying to preach to me about love? Your father loved you, and this is how you repay him? By betraying his trust and running away from your responsibilities to the clan? To the blood running in your veins?"
Yifan snarls at Yixing for even comparing his father to Yifan's affections for Jongin. "If my father loved me at all, he wouldn't have forced me to kill for him." He says, only to roar in pain once again when Yixing digs the hilt of his dagger into his wound and twists.
"Regardless, you have lost the bet." Yixing ignores Yifan's retort, and Yifan's heart sinks at the mere thought that he's just cost the life of the person he loved the most. "And you will take over as the head of the Du Xie Clan."
"What if I refuse?" Yifan says as he tries to surreptitiously reach for his dagger which is just within his reach. If he could just grab it, then he'll be able to turn the tables over. He doesn't believe that the fight is over for him, even with the wound in his abdomen.
Yixing seems to have noticed what he's planning on doing, though, because he lets out a short laugh and steps on Yifan's outstretched arm to stop him from moving any further. "Then you leave me with no choice." Yixing says, before plunging his knife cleanly through Yifan's left shoulder.
The pain is overwhelming, and Yifan finds his vision swimming for a long moment, before it finally fades out to shades of grey and black. The last thing he remembers, is how Yixing finally stands up, and walks towards Kim Jongin with slow, deliberate steps, Yifan's dagger held firmly in his hand.
₳
He awakes to clinical whiteness and the pungent smell of isopropyl alcohol with a sharp gasp, abdomen and shoulder pounding painfully as the memories return to him, and Yifan's pupils dilate with fear, remembering what his loss had signified.
He has singlehandedly caused Jongin's death, and his husband's name is loud on his lips as he yells out in panic.
"Hey!" A familiar voice speaks up from the far corner of the room, and Yifan's head throbs in confusion. "Hey, love, calm down. I got you."
It's not until half a minute later that Yifan finally registers the voice as Jongin's, his vision swimming from the tears of relief that forms in his eyes. He doesn't even care about the excruciating pain that wracks through him, immediately throwing his arms around Jongin and pulling him close, inhaling the scent which he has missed so dearly. Apart from several clean dressings applied on his face and limbs, Jongin appears to be relatively unscathed, and Yifan doesn't even know which god he should thank for this miracle.
"I thought I lost you-" Yifan breathes, holding Jongin closer to him. Jongin's laugh is breathless when his arms come up to wrap around Yifan's trembling frame, and kisses his temple in an attempt to calm Yifan down.
"Calm down, Yifan." Jongin coos, but Yifan doesn't miss the way he reaches over to an infusion pump and presses a button on it. Immediately the pain dulls, and Yifan realises that it must contain morphine. "Calm down. I'm here, and I'm alright."
Only then does Yifan pull back to lean against the pillows, feeling extremely exhausted and lightheaded from the analgesics. "How?" He croaks, his throat parched. Jongin seems to have noticed that, and he quickly grabs a glass of water for Yifan to drink.
"Yixing - that's his name, right? - he let me go after you passed out, and asked of me to get you to the nearest hospital." Jongin explains, but it doesn't clear up Yifan's confusion at all. But he does panic once again, when he recalls how Jongin had witnessed his fight against Yixing, how Yifan had handled the gun and the daggers like an expert.
"You... are you not afraid of me, of what I'm capable of doing?" Yifan asks. He knows it's impossible to ask of Jongin to stay, when it's clear that Yifan's more than used to killing others. He might not be forgiven for concealing a large part of his life - what he actually is - from Jongin.
The responding smile Jongin flashes at him is tinged with wryness. "Do you really think I haven't noticed the gun you keep under your pillow? Or how you'd conceal a dagger beneath your suit in the mornings while you're preparing for work?"
Jongin's words surprise him, because all his life Yifan had thought of Jongin as a heavy sleeper. It's usually difficult to get him up in the mornings, but Yifan uses that to his advantage to hide his weapons from view.
"Then why have you never said a thing about it?" Yifan asks, feeling guilty.
Jongin reaches for his uninjured hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles, before holding Yifan's palm against his steadily beating heart. "Because in here, I believe that you are a victim of circumstance, that you won't hurt me no matter what. I don't care about your past. I fell in love with you because it's you."
"But I-"
"I know what you have to do. Yixing has told me." Jongin says. "You have to take over your father's position as the head of his clan, don't you?"
Yifan sighs and averts his gaze, preparing himself for the inevitable. "Yeah, and I understand completely if you choose to walk out. I can't possibly expose you to all those dangers of the underworld. I'd probably have to kill, or be killed. I might get arrested for the things I have to do."
"And I don't care." Jongin says, his voice firm, his gaze even firmer when Yifan turns to look at him in surprise. "I promised to be there for you, in good times and in bad, when we took our wedding vows, and I'm not about to go against them, Yifan. Because I know that you have no choice but to do this. I heard what you told Yixing."
Yifan wonders if there'll be any short of surprises today. "Wait, I didn't know you understood Chinese-"
"Details." Jongin vaguely waves him off, then locks his arms behind Yifan's neck once again as he presses their foreheads together. "I trust in you, Yifan, and I need you to trust in me too."
"And you're willing to follow me into the darkness, despite everything?" Yifan asks, sounding hopeful, even though he doesn't want to get Jongin embroiled in this. He can't run from this, not anymore, not when the Du Xie Clan has discovered his life away from Guangzhou, and he's going to have to spend the rest of his life running away from the shadows that will always loom should he decide to escape again. Jongin has the choice to walk away, yet here he is, willingly staying by Yifan's side because he loves Yifan, and Yifan can't ask for anything else.
"Yes," Jongin whispers moments later, and Yifan feels as though he's falling for the man in his lap all over again when Jongin leans in to meld their lips together.
They'll get through this - together.
Notes!:
- ‘Shaoye’ (少爷) = young master
- Du Xie (毒蝎): lit. scorpion, hence the relevance to Yifan’s tattoo.
Prompt #: 49 [prompt details]Yifan lives a rather blissful normal married life with X until someone from his sketchy past shows up and kidnaps X. Yifan was a mafia boss' son who wants nothing to do with his family's business. But now that his father is in his deathbed, he is the only heir to China's biggest syndicate.
Title: come into the night with me
Ship: Kai/Yifan
Rating: R
Word count: 5,500 words
Warnings: Violence, minor character death
Summary: Yifan is not the person he seems to be.
Notes: Dear prompter, I hope this is in accordance to what you’re looking for! :)
"Hi, love."
The term of endearment brings a smile to his face the moment he picks up the call, the wedding band on his left ring finger pressing into flesh when his grip tightens around his phone. Right on time.
"Hi to you too, love," he greets, feeling the smile stretch even wider when he hears lovely laughter coming from the other end of the line.
"I hope you're not driving-" The voice warns mildly, just as Yifan cuts the engine to his car, having just parked moments before his phone had rang, "-or I'm actually going to come over to your office and kick your ass when I have the time."
"No, Jongin. Your timing is always impeccable." Yifan actually laughs this time, leaning into the leather seat of his car and closing his eyes in perfect bliss. Just three years ago, Yifan would have scoffed at the idea of him getting married and living a perfectly domestic life with someone else. Right now, though, he couldn't have imagined a life more perfect than this, being happily married to none other than Kim Jongin.
They'd met through the most clichéd of circumstances, if Yifan has to admit it himself. Yifan was a top-notch accountant who'd been tasked to audit the accounts of a talent management company - the very one Jongin's working at, as a professional dancer for the talent groups under its wing. On the day that he was supposed to visit the company, Jongin had ran into him in his haste to get to practice, apparently having overslept that morning. Yifan remembered being completely mesmerised by his strong gaze and soft mannerisms, even more so when he'd watched Jongin's powerful performances on stage. Yifan won't exactly label their relationship as a whirlwind romance, but he sure as hell was knocked off his feet by the tempest called Kim Jongin. Even now, he's still getting swept away by his husband, who's a breath of fresh air in Yifan's previously mundane life.
"Good," Jongin hums just then. "I can't wait till I get home tonight."
"Already?" Yifan teases, and he can already begin imagining the way Jongin's expressions will be set in a half-scowl at the words he's about to say. "The kids under your care will be absolutely devastated to hear that Kai sonsaengnim prefers his husband over them."
"We have unfinished business, asshole," Jongin mutters darkly, evidently displeased. Yifan is reminded of how he'd nibbled on Jongin's neck and ran his hands up Jongin's jeans-clad thighs, then palming him through his pants, all right before he'd kicked Jongin out of the car at his personal studio with a cheeky grin and a promise that he'll pick up where he had left off in the evening. Jongin had very crudely flipped the finger at Yifan, who had laughed even harder at the flush which decorated his husband's neck.
It's a great sight indeed.
Yifan deliberately switches to his husky voice next. "Don't think too much about me, alright? You wouldn't want your students to ask about your boner in the middle of the class." He says, and counts down from three.
As if on cue, Jongin hurls a string of expletives at him, and Yifan has to really, really hold his laughter back this time. Predictable Jongin. "I swear to God, I will make you pay tonight." He promises, and already Yifan's mind is hard at work, trying to imagine what Jongin might possibly do to him. His cock twitches in his pants when his thoughts linger upon the amount of toys Jongin has hidden away in a drawer, and he wonders if he can coax Jongin into actually using that vibrating plug.
"Give it your best shot, love." Yifan challenges, feeling the anticipation build within him. Jongin never backs down from a challenge, after all, and Yifan definitely won't object to anything that might spice up their already-vibrant married life.
That's when the sound of squealing children reaches his ears, and Yifan disappointedly shoots a look at the clock on his dashboard display. It's almost time for Jongin's first class to start. "I guess I'll see you tonight, then?"
"Yeah," Jongin affirms, tone laced with disappointment at having to hang up. Even though they've been married for over a year now, chatting on the phone when they were apart never becomes a bore. "I love you, Yifan."
The words manage to put a smile back on his face, and Yifan grins as he says, "I love you too."
When Jongin finally cuts the call, Yifan climbs out of the car and shuts the door, locking it before heading towards the elevators. Nine more hours till he sees Jongin again.
₳
An uneasy feeling fills his senses the moment Yifan steps into the parking lot after work. An unmistakable sensation of being watched, of being hunted down. It's a feeling that's been forgotten for so long that it's almost foreign, and rather than the usual thrill, trepidation envelops him instead.
Yifan looks around surreptitiously, but sees no one else in the parking lot with him. His grip on his briefcase tightens, mentally calculating twenty steps from the door to his car, ten if he ran. Plenty of time for anything at all to happen.
Pretending he hasn't realised that something is amiss, Yifan switches his briefcase to his non-dominant hand, and begins walking casually to his car, free hand in his pocket.
The entire ordeal unfolds faster than he'd imagined, though. Five steps across the parking lot, and already Yifan can hear someone charging at him, footsteps loud as the other person runs the rest of the distance from the furthest pillar towards Yifan. His right hand dives into the pocket of his coat at once, brandishing a dagger with a hilt bearing a dragon's motif before the other man can even reach him.
Dropping his briefcase, Yifan locks his left arm around the neck of the other man the exact moment that he comes into Yifan's reach, choking him mercilessly before plunging the dagger right into the man's chest, over the area where his heart is supposed to be, and drags. Yifan pulls away just in time to avoid his clothes getting stained by the blood that spills out of the gaping wound in the man's chest, wiping the blade of his dagger on the dead man's clothes before hiding it from view again.
The gravity of his actions doesn't sink in until moments later, when the adrenaline haze has cleared from his head and Yifan finds himself standing in the middle of a deserted car park with a dead man lying by his feet. The first thought that comes to him isn't fear though; it's anger and worry that he's been found that clouds his mind.
Yifan has never forgotten his roots, what he's been born into, what he is, but it doesn't stop him from wanting to denounce the darker side of him. He's lived in relative peace all these years, concealing his presence between concrete jungles and neatly-pressed suits, never dabbling in what he shouldn't, so Yifan can't think of a reason why his weapons should be in use now.
He doesn't stop to dispose of the body, though, knowing that more will come after him if he ever stalls. Immediately Yifan runs the last of the distance to his car, sliding into the leather seat smoothly and gunning the engine at once, tyres screeching jarringly against asphalt as he drives out of the carpark.
It's not until he's on the streets that Yifan retrieves his phone from his pocket and dials Jongin's number - warning from Jongin to never speak on the phone when he's driving be damned. He holds on to that tiny hope that maybe it's only Yifan that's been discovered, while the rest of his life in Seoul remains concealed, because he can't ever stomach the thought of Jongin getting hurt because of him.
By the time he reaches Jongin's voicemail inbox on his fifth consecutive try, that tiny sliver of hope slips right out of his fingers too, and he can feel the cold sweat beginning to drench his once-pristine office suit. Yifan swallows hard, and slams his foot on the accelerator.
Please be okay.
₳
The studio is eerily silent when Yifan arrives.
It's never like this; Jongin would always continue practising into the evening, even after his last student has left, preferring to keep his muscles and joints moving until Yifan arrives to pick him up for dinner. Yifan would usually reprimand Jongin for abusing his body a lot more than he already does, but right now, Yifan would give anything to be greeted by dubstep music and the sight of a lithe, dancing figure in the practice rooms.
If there's only one thing Yifan can be glad of, it's the fact that the studio is still relatively intact, without any obvious signs of a scuffle having taken place at all. That, and the lack of blood pooling on the floor, is more than Yifan can ever wish for. He knows how callous these people - people like the one who'd tried to kill Yifan - can be, and if they had indeed taken Jongin, Yifan can only hope that they hadn't hurt him at all.
Yifan's heart practically stops when he finds Jongin's iPod lying discarded in the middle of the room he uses the most. Jongin never leaves his iPod alone, and it's a sign that he'd been taken by force. With a heavy heart, Yifan walks towards the device and picks it up, gripping it tightly in his hand.
That's when his phone suddenly rings, ringtone loud in the silence of the studio, making him jump. Yifan's quick to answer it, pulse racing because it's the ringtone he'd set specifically for Jongin - it's their song - and he really, really hopes his husband is okay.
"Jongin!" Yifan yells into the phone the moment he presses it to his ear, even though he'd talked himself through this earlier. The franticness in him isn't allowing him to stay calm, not when his husband's life is at stake, when he's missing. He doesn't even care if Jongin would ask him about it later. "Jongin! Where are you? Are you okay?!"
For a moment there's only silence, then a laugh is carried through the line. Yifan shudders; it doesn't belong to Jongin. "How the mighty have fallen." The man says, and Yifan frowns because he can't recognise it. The man - woman? - is bright enough to utilise a voice modulator to conceal their actual voice.
Then the panic sets in once again when he realises he's being spoken to in his mother tongue; they've found his weakness.
No.
Yifan grows livid at the thought, and he makes his anger known by snarling into the phone. "Who the fuck are you, and what have you done to Jongin?"
More laughter. "My, aren't you a frightening one." The voice possesses a teasing lilt, and it takes all of Yifan's self-control to not hurl his phone into the mirrored wall. No one plays Wu Yifan like this. "I merely invited your... husband, was it? To come along with me on a trip. He's... fast asleep as we speak."
"Don't you dare lay a finger on him." Yifan warns, breaths coming out raggedly. "If I see a single scratch on him, I will fucking slice your fingers off, one by one-"
"Charming." The other man cuts him off brusquely, as though unperturbed by Yifan's warning. "I've seen the CCTV footage of you dispatching the assassin earlier. I must say I'm disappointed, Wu Yifan. This is nowhere close to what you're actually capable of. Such a clean job. Don't worry, though, I've taken care of the body on your behalf."
"What do you want?" Yifan reiterates through gritted teeth. He's in no mood for games or a trip down memory lane; he only wants Jongin back in his arms, safe and sound.
The man hums. "That's a good question. I'll let you know once I figure it out. Keep in touch."
The line goes dead before Yifan can slot another word in, and he really has to physically restrain himself from destroying his phone. Worried, agitated, and above all - filled with dread, Yifan slumps to the parquet flooring on his knees, feeling helpless for the very first time in his life.
What has he gotten Jongin into?
₳
He doesn't know how long he's been holed up in this dingy motel room, but he's sure it's been long enough that he's seeing the patterns on the torn wallpaper move, the base of his spine aching from sitting on the hard flooring for hours on end. The weight of the wedding band is heavy on his finger, a grim reminder of a promise he's failed to keep - the promise to protect Jongin no matter what it takes.
There's nowhere else Yifan could have gone to, not when the ones hunting him down has found his and Jongin's home and had ambushed him when Yifan had wanted to grab some personal belongings. Not wanting to leave any bloodstains on the floor of the apartment unit he shared with Jongin, Yifan had opted to knock them out with a hard blow to the neck. Less of a mess to clean up - in the meantime, anyway. They're bound to find him again eventually, and when that time comes, he will not hesitate to put an end to their lives.
His grip on his phone remains firm. His eyes must be bloodshot now, if the dull ache pounding at the back of his head is any indication of it. But he can't sleep a wink, not until he receives the promised call in return. It's been two long, agonising days, and yet - nothing.
Yifan finds that he can't rest easy either, not when his mind is filled with Jongin, Jongin, Jongin. He knows he's hoping for the impossible, to want Jongin unharmed even when he's held captive. He's talking about the China's mafia here, notorious for their merciless acts; it's the main reason why he had decided to disentangle himself from that world in the first place.
And now it's here to haunt him again.
Yifan jumps, the phone nearly slipping out of his hand when it suddenly starts vibrating. Right now, his and Jongin's song sounds more like a mockery to him, when it's blaring into the stale air of the room. He sucks in a deep breath, wills himself to calm down. It won't do for him to broadcast the fact that he's affected by Jongin's kidnapping to the extent that he's about to lose his grip on sanity. It would bode ill for Jongin's wellbeing, and they will torture Jongin for the sake of seeing Yifan in agony - whoever they are. He feels incredibly exposed, when he's standing in the light while he's being watched from the shadows. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
"Hello?" He says the moment he presses the phone to his ear, wincing when his voice comes out scratchy and hoarse from disuse.
The response is immediate. "Good to hear that you're holding yourself together, Wu Yifan," the voice says, still modified with a modulator. Yifan begins to get suspicious; why would anyone be this meticulous in making sure he doesn't recognise them over the phone? "I see your husband has gotten some of your grittiness. He's surprisingly calm, given the situation he's in."
Yifan tries so, so hard to not get riled up at the mere mention of Jongin. "I have no time for small talk. What do you want?"
A breathy laugh, as if the person on the other side of the line is actually amused. "Succinct and straightforward as always, I see. Tell you what, why don't you fly over to Guangzhou? I prefer talking to you in person. Phones are incredibly... undependable. Easy to tap."
In a split moment's inattention, Yifan lets his inner thoughts slip. "And Jongin?" He blurts before he can even process it, and he instantly regrets his words when another laugh reaches his ear.
"You will find out when you come. Remember, time is running out." The man tells him, and it actually makes Yifan enraged because he's in no mood for some petty fucking game.
"If you hurt him-"
The line goes dead. Yifan punches the wall in frustration until his knuckles come away bloody.
₳
A fucking tasteless game of hide-and-seek. It's what Yifan thinks about all of this, as he takes his first steps into the Port of Guangzhou. The scorpion tattoo on his left arm throbs dully, even though Yifan knows it's probably part of his imagination. A homecoming of sorts, he guesses. Guangzhou is - was - his backyard back in those days, and this very harbour stirs up many unpleasant memories. Memories which Yifan would gladly dissociate himself from.
It's rather claustrophobic, when he's surrounded by cargo containers stacked up to several storeys high. Even though the sun is high up in the sky, he's cast in nothing but shadows as he quietly slips between the paths, trying hard to avoid the workers of the harbour. He doesn't want to get caught for trespassing even before he arrives at the designated warehouse.
It's not after an hour of searching that Yifan finally finds the warehouse where he's supposed to meet the person who'd been bold enough to kidnap Jongin. With trembling hands, he pushes past the heavy metal door, and steps inside cautiously. The inside of the warehouse is oddly silent, a stark contrast from its bustling exterior where everyone is hard at work, and Yifan immediately abandons all his reservations, calling out into the empty warehouse.
"Wherever you are, get the fuck out right now." He growls, growing impatient by the second. The person who'd decided to kidnap Jongin and make Yifan run around in search of him has made a grave mistake - Jongin is the only one Yifan will die to protect, and he will stop at nothing.
Soft laughter fills the air, followed by languid footsteps, and Yifan feels marginally thankful there isn't any pointless stalling. "You have not lost your feistiness, even after all these years." The voice, this time clearly revealing its owner's identity, makes Yifan's eyes grow wide, and he narrows them once again when another man stands before him on the other end of the warehouse, shoulders rolled back and hands in his pockets. That dimpled smile is unmistakable. "Hello, Wu shaoye. We meet again."
"Zhang Yixing." Yifan greets gruffly. When he was initially ambushed, Yifan would never have thought that his own men - let alone his second-in-command - was behind all this. He feels betrayed and confused all over, but he supposes it's only right that karma comes back to bite him in the ass. After all, he's sure his clan had felt the same when he had announced his decision to step out of the underworld, and subsequently disappeared under the radar without anyone being any the wiser. "It's been a long while."
"Indeed. You were good at hiding. It was a difficult task, attempting to dig up your location." Yixing concedes, then smirks. "But I guess we have your husband to thank. If not for his high profile background and his legion of fans, we wouldn't have found you." The way Yixing spits the word 'husband' out like it's made of poison leaves a bitter aftertaste on Yifan's tongue.
"Where is Jongin?" Yifan asks, wanting to make sure that Jongin's safe and sound before he continues to humour Yixing with their little catch-up session.
Yixing smirks again, before walking over to a huge container to his right and dragging someone out of it. Yifan's throat clenches when Jongin's shoved onto the ground, his arms bound behind his back and a gag fashioned out of cloth stuffed into his mouth. There are numerous cuts and bruises marring his perfect olive skin, most noticeably over the apple of his right cheek, making Yifan see red. His gaze meets Jongin's just then, and he finds himself holding back; Jongin's gaze is intense, determined, and most of all, trusting even though Yifan is the prime reason why Jongin's in this situation at all.
"Tell you what-" Yixing speaks up, shattering the silent moment Yifan was sharing with Jongin, and Yifan forces himself to focus his attention on Yixing. "-have a friendly little duel with me. If you win, then I'll let you walk off with your pretty little husband just like that. If you lose, though-" the smirk on his face grows more sinister, "-then I get to kill him right before your very eyes."
Even though Yifan's alarmed by the conditions set by Yixing, he doesn't let his panic show, knowing that it'll expose his weakness to Yixing - if he hasn't already learned of them by now. Instead, Yifan breathes calmly, feeling slightly relieved that their conversation is being held entirely in Chinese. At least Jongin won't have to know they're betting on his life. "Why are you doing this?"
Yixing shrugs, unaffected. "Your father is on his deathbed, and you are his only heir. The sole successor to the Du Xie Clan." He tells Yifan, but Yifan remains unblinking. He's never had any interest in his father's shady businesses to begin with, hence his decision to disappear from Guangzhou and relocate to Seoul in order to carve a new life for himself. Shame it didn't last. "I wouldn't have gone through all this trouble to get you to return to Guangzhou, if he hadn't insisted that you take over from him no matter what."
Yifan scoffs, thumbing the hilt of the handgun that's buried beneath his belt. It's almost time for his trusted companion to make its presence known once again. "You know that old man's senile. You could have pretended that he hadn't made such a request, and took over the position as head of the clan when he dies." He taunts, even though he knows that Yixing would never do such a thing. His loyalties to the clan supersedes his greed for personal gain, and it's the sole reason why he was appointed as Yifan's right hand man at such a young age to begin with. Even when Yifan had left, Yixing still stayed on to help his father with the runnings of the clan, and that makes Yixing honourable above everything else.
Not that Yifan would admit it aloud, of course.
"Do not insult my personal character, Yifan." Yixing warns, this time drawing his own dagger. Yifan should have guessed it; Yixing has a penchant for close-quarters combat rather than fighting with guns. Automated weapons take the fun out of the fight, and Yifan honours his decision by discarding his own gun.
He definitely doesn't pause to wonder why Jongin had looked so calm at the sight of the weapon, but he files that for later - when he wins over Yixing and gets to hold Jongin in his arms once again.
"Less talk-" Yifan roars as he pulls out his dragon-hilted dagger, the very first weapon his father had given to him and started Yifan down a path filled with bloodshed, violence, and illegal businesses. It only seemed fitting that he should utilise it again, now. "-more fighting!"
Yixing obliges with a smirk, dashing towards Yifan and meeting him in the centre of the warehouse with a resounding clang of their daggers. Yifan swallows as he jumps backwards, narrowly avoiding the tip of Yixing's dagger from grazing across his abdomen, cursing his split moment of inattention which saw him watching out for Jongin's safety. He's determined to keep the fight as far away from Jongin as possible, knowing that Yixing might take him hostage and force Yifan to surrender.
"Pay attention, Yifan, or you might really regret it." Yixing's laughter is airy, light, nothing like the aggressive moves he's pulling as he continues to push Yifan back. Yifan grits his teeth; it's been far too long since he's been involved in a fight like this, and it's obvious that Yixing has the upper hand over him. But it doesn't stop Yifan from kicking at Yixing's feet, bringing the man down to the ground with a loud thud.
He curses his lack of agility when Yixing bounces back to his feet before Yifan could even get close enough to land the finishing blow, and stumbles backwards when Yixing launches his leg at Yifan's head. Unfortunately for Yifan, he has forgotten all about the dummy move which Yixing absolutely loves to pull, and he gasps in pain when he ends up getting stabbed right in the abdomen and falls to the floor in an ungraceful heap of limbs.
Yifan isn't given the opportunity to recover, when Yixing strides over and straddles Yifan's abdomen, deliberately applying pressure to the wound in his stomach and making Yifan roar in pain once again. Yifan doesn't flinch when Yixing drives the dagger down towards his face, only to be surprised when it hits the cemented floor instead, mere inches away from his ear.
"You're too precious to be killed, Yifan." Yixing tells him, as if reading his thoughts, then points an angry finger in Jongin's general direction. "And you're a far cry from the dangerous killing machine that you were in the past - all because of that man lying on the floor. Why?"
Yifan lifts his head gingerly to look at Jongin, flashing him a brave smile before laughing at Yixing's words. "What would a person from the underworld like you understand? The only thing that can ever sustain you is the thrill of the illegal trade and the blood of others on your hands."
Yixing raises a mocking brow at him. "Are you, of all people, trying to preach to me about love? Your father loved you, and this is how you repay him? By betraying his trust and running away from your responsibilities to the clan? To the blood running in your veins?"
Yifan snarls at Yixing for even comparing his father to Yifan's affections for Jongin. "If my father loved me at all, he wouldn't have forced me to kill for him." He says, only to roar in pain once again when Yixing digs the hilt of his dagger into his wound and twists.
"Regardless, you have lost the bet." Yixing ignores Yifan's retort, and Yifan's heart sinks at the mere thought that he's just cost the life of the person he loved the most. "And you will take over as the head of the Du Xie Clan."
"What if I refuse?" Yifan says as he tries to surreptitiously reach for his dagger which is just within his reach. If he could just grab it, then he'll be able to turn the tables over. He doesn't believe that the fight is over for him, even with the wound in his abdomen.
Yixing seems to have noticed what he's planning on doing, though, because he lets out a short laugh and steps on Yifan's outstretched arm to stop him from moving any further. "Then you leave me with no choice." Yixing says, before plunging his knife cleanly through Yifan's left shoulder.
The pain is overwhelming, and Yifan finds his vision swimming for a long moment, before it finally fades out to shades of grey and black. The last thing he remembers, is how Yixing finally stands up, and walks towards Kim Jongin with slow, deliberate steps, Yifan's dagger held firmly in his hand.
₳
He awakes to clinical whiteness and the pungent smell of isopropyl alcohol with a sharp gasp, abdomen and shoulder pounding painfully as the memories return to him, and Yifan's pupils dilate with fear, remembering what his loss had signified.
He has singlehandedly caused Jongin's death, and his husband's name is loud on his lips as he yells out in panic.
"Hey!" A familiar voice speaks up from the far corner of the room, and Yifan's head throbs in confusion. "Hey, love, calm down. I got you."
It's not until half a minute later that Yifan finally registers the voice as Jongin's, his vision swimming from the tears of relief that forms in his eyes. He doesn't even care about the excruciating pain that wracks through him, immediately throwing his arms around Jongin and pulling him close, inhaling the scent which he has missed so dearly. Apart from several clean dressings applied on his face and limbs, Jongin appears to be relatively unscathed, and Yifan doesn't even know which god he should thank for this miracle.
"I thought I lost you-" Yifan breathes, holding Jongin closer to him. Jongin's laugh is breathless when his arms come up to wrap around Yifan's trembling frame, and kisses his temple in an attempt to calm Yifan down.
"Calm down, Yifan." Jongin coos, but Yifan doesn't miss the way he reaches over to an infusion pump and presses a button on it. Immediately the pain dulls, and Yifan realises that it must contain morphine. "Calm down. I'm here, and I'm alright."
Only then does Yifan pull back to lean against the pillows, feeling extremely exhausted and lightheaded from the analgesics. "How?" He croaks, his throat parched. Jongin seems to have noticed that, and he quickly grabs a glass of water for Yifan to drink.
"Yixing - that's his name, right? - he let me go after you passed out, and asked of me to get you to the nearest hospital." Jongin explains, but it doesn't clear up Yifan's confusion at all. But he does panic once again, when he recalls how Jongin had witnessed his fight against Yixing, how Yifan had handled the gun and the daggers like an expert.
"You... are you not afraid of me, of what I'm capable of doing?" Yifan asks. He knows it's impossible to ask of Jongin to stay, when it's clear that Yifan's more than used to killing others. He might not be forgiven for concealing a large part of his life - what he actually is - from Jongin.
The responding smile Jongin flashes at him is tinged with wryness. "Do you really think I haven't noticed the gun you keep under your pillow? Or how you'd conceal a dagger beneath your suit in the mornings while you're preparing for work?"
Jongin's words surprise him, because all his life Yifan had thought of Jongin as a heavy sleeper. It's usually difficult to get him up in the mornings, but Yifan uses that to his advantage to hide his weapons from view.
"Then why have you never said a thing about it?" Yifan asks, feeling guilty.
Jongin reaches for his uninjured hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles, before holding Yifan's palm against his steadily beating heart. "Because in here, I believe that you are a victim of circumstance, that you won't hurt me no matter what. I don't care about your past. I fell in love with you because it's you."
"But I-"
"I know what you have to do. Yixing has told me." Jongin says. "You have to take over your father's position as the head of his clan, don't you?"
Yifan sighs and averts his gaze, preparing himself for the inevitable. "Yeah, and I understand completely if you choose to walk out. I can't possibly expose you to all those dangers of the underworld. I'd probably have to kill, or be killed. I might get arrested for the things I have to do."
"And I don't care." Jongin says, his voice firm, his gaze even firmer when Yifan turns to look at him in surprise. "I promised to be there for you, in good times and in bad, when we took our wedding vows, and I'm not about to go against them, Yifan. Because I know that you have no choice but to do this. I heard what you told Yixing."
Yifan wonders if there'll be any short of surprises today. "Wait, I didn't know you understood Chinese-"
"Details." Jongin vaguely waves him off, then locks his arms behind Yifan's neck once again as he presses their foreheads together. "I trust in you, Yifan, and I need you to trust in me too."
"And you're willing to follow me into the darkness, despite everything?" Yifan asks, sounding hopeful, even though he doesn't want to get Jongin embroiled in this. He can't run from this, not anymore, not when the Du Xie Clan has discovered his life away from Guangzhou, and he's going to have to spend the rest of his life running away from the shadows that will always loom should he decide to escape again. Jongin has the choice to walk away, yet here he is, willingly staying by Yifan's side because he loves Yifan, and Yifan can't ask for anything else.
"Yes," Jongin whispers moments later, and Yifan feels as though he's falling for the man in his lap all over again when Jongin leans in to meld their lips together.
They'll get through this - together.
Notes!:
- ‘Shaoye’ (少爷) = young master
- Du Xie (毒蝎): lit. scorpion, hence the relevance to Yifan’s tattoo.