no restart (that's the cold hard truth)
no restart (that's the cold hard truth)
yongguk/himchan; pg13; spy/assassin!au; ~500
"don't do that, they're going to find us."
himchan eyes yongguk in mixed confusion and irritation, twirling the lit cigarette with his nimble fingers. the smoke continues to rise up higher and higher - with yongguk's eyes staring exasperatedly at it, as if he's waiting for it to just stop.
"what do you mean by that?" himchan questions, taking a long drag from his cigarette. he exhales the smoke from his mouth, eyes closed in something the other can only call euphoria. yongguk rolls his eyes, mouthing isn't it obvious, while listening to the soft pitter-patter of water dripping down outside.
it's raining.
yongguk stuffs his hands inside his jeans pocket. "smoking," he murmurs. "you have a special way of smoking, and i think they must have memorized it. you know, them."
himchan jerks and yongguk flinches, looking warily at him. he notices that the cigarette has been dropped, the flame dying out, and there are ashes on himchan's hand, red from the heat emitted from it.
himchan turns to look at yongguk, an unreadable expression in his face. "you noticed?" he asks, and yongguk only stares at him, hard, until he understands the question.
(yongguk really knows that he is that stupid from the start.)
he nods, and himchan exhales - but yongguk thinks that the right term would be that himchan was sighing. himchan opens his mouth to respond, but -
"it's hard to miss that when you're smoking all day and that i'm stuck here with you since almost forever, because i am, apparently, a son of a wanted criminal, and i'm suspected to be his successor while i don't know anything about my birth parents, and you're my family's bodyguard, and we're supposed to be in hiding but you're blowing off our cover by smoking that damn cigarette."
himchan winces, but yongguk only raises his eyebrows.
silence spreads over the two of them - for the longest time yongguk can ever remember.
"sorry," himchan whispers out of the blue, almost apologetically.
yongguk blinks, unsure about what he's apologizing for.
but then himchan pulls out his gun and yongguk eyes him even more warily and he's loading his gun and wait what they didn't plan any breaking or moving out and so why the hell is himchan preparing his gun and oh oh - oh.
the smooth metal sliding in place on his forehead feels unnaturally calming.
"oh."
"sorry," himchan repeats.
yongguk's suddenly laughing - he finds all of this shit so surreal and so ridiculous - he's shaking so hard, he's shaking too hard, and there are tears rolling down his cheeks - maybe from sadness, maybe from amusement, maybe from both, he doesn't know - he feels like a main character from a movie - a cliché one, that is.
"don't be," yongguk rasps. "maybe in another life, this would never happen. maybe we could restart this."
he can hear himchan lighting his cigarette again, the ash falling into his hair. "there's no restart button in this game called life," himchan sighs, shaking his head. "that's the cold, hard truth, bang yongguk."
two shots are fired, the sound masked by the pitter-patter of the rain.
yongguk/himchan; pg13; spy/assassin!au; ~500
"don't do that, they're going to find us."
himchan eyes yongguk in mixed confusion and irritation, twirling the lit cigarette with his nimble fingers. the smoke continues to rise up higher and higher - with yongguk's eyes staring exasperatedly at it, as if he's waiting for it to just stop.
"what do you mean by that?" himchan questions, taking a long drag from his cigarette. he exhales the smoke from his mouth, eyes closed in something the other can only call euphoria. yongguk rolls his eyes, mouthing isn't it obvious, while listening to the soft pitter-patter of water dripping down outside.
it's raining.
yongguk stuffs his hands inside his jeans pocket. "smoking," he murmurs. "you have a special way of smoking, and i think they must have memorized it. you know, them."
himchan jerks and yongguk flinches, looking warily at him. he notices that the cigarette has been dropped, the flame dying out, and there are ashes on himchan's hand, red from the heat emitted from it.
himchan turns to look at yongguk, an unreadable expression in his face. "you noticed?" he asks, and yongguk only stares at him, hard, until he understands the question.
(yongguk really knows that he is that stupid from the start.)
he nods, and himchan exhales - but yongguk thinks that the right term would be that himchan was sighing. himchan opens his mouth to respond, but -
"it's hard to miss that when you're smoking all day and that i'm stuck here with you since almost forever, because i am, apparently, a son of a wanted criminal, and i'm suspected to be his successor while i don't know anything about my birth parents, and you're my family's bodyguard, and we're supposed to be in hiding but you're blowing off our cover by smoking that damn cigarette."
himchan winces, but yongguk only raises his eyebrows.
silence spreads over the two of them - for the longest time yongguk can ever remember.
"sorry," himchan whispers out of the blue, almost apologetically.
yongguk blinks, unsure about what he's apologizing for.
but then himchan pulls out his gun and yongguk eyes him even more warily and he's loading his gun and wait what they didn't plan any breaking or moving out and so why the hell is himchan preparing his gun and oh oh - oh.
the smooth metal sliding in place on his forehead feels unnaturally calming.
"oh."
"sorry," himchan repeats.
yongguk's suddenly laughing - he finds all of this shit so surreal and so ridiculous - he's shaking so hard, he's shaking too hard, and there are tears rolling down his cheeks - maybe from sadness, maybe from amusement, maybe from both, he doesn't know - he feels like a main character from a movie - a cliché one, that is.
"don't be," yongguk rasps. "maybe in another life, this would never happen. maybe we could restart this."
he can hear himchan lighting his cigarette again, the ash falling into his hair. "there's no restart button in this game called life," himchan sighs, shaking his head. "that's the cold, hard truth, bang yongguk."
two shots are fired, the sound masked by the pitter-patter of the rain.