Million Dollar Man
Title: Million Dollar Man
Author: xLightless
Pairing: Kai/D.O
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I wish I owned them.
Summary: Kim Jongin finds himself at a party with a wide eyed young man. (spy/secret agent!au)
A/N: A little thing inspired by Lana Del Rey's Million Dollar Man.
Kim Jongin is standing in a high-end hotel, not remembering how exactly he got there. He takes a sip from his short glass-it's a vodka soda, he soon realizes-the clear ice cubes tinkling as he does so. People dressed in expensive dress suits and lavish dresses mingle amongst each other, completely comfortable in their surroundings.
Jongin begins to walk leisurely around the almost obscenely massive room, swirling his drink slowly and deliberately. He soon finds himself standing by a window. The skyline of Seoul lays beneath him, the lights sparkling like millions of stars.
A piano begins to play a slow chord, and everyone, Jongin included, turns their attention towards the slightly raised platform in the front of the room. A young man with eyes the size of the moon stands beside a grand piano, and smiles. The piano continues to play, and the man begins to sing. His voice is smooth as a ribbon and full of emotion. Jongin doesn't-no, he can't-take his eyes off the man out of sheer wonderment. There's something about him that Jongin can't figure out. Perhaps it's his eyes. Maybe it's simply his voice. Jongin doesn't know.
When the young man finishes, the guests clap quietly as he steps off the stage, and they begin talking again. The woman sitting at the piano begins to play another tune with a faster tempo. The young man stops next to a woman-his sister, perhaps?-dressed in a sea green gown and they talk almost animatedly. Jongin notices that the young man isn't at ease, though. It's barely there, well hidden behind a smiling facade. The young man isn't used to settings like this either.
Taking one more sip of his vodka soda, Jongin makes his way towards the veranda. He smiles at a few ladies he passes by and bows his head slightly in greeting because it would be considered rude not to do so. By the time Jongin makes it to the double doors leading to the veranda, he's finished his drink. Shrugging, he pushes the door open, and steps out.
The air is chilly and crisp, signs of the oncoming winter, but Jongin's blazer keeps him somewhat warm. He leans his arms against the stone railing, looking down at the brightly lit city below. The incessant chatter from inside can still be heard, but it's nothing more than a steady murmur. Jongin pulls out a pack of cigarettes from inside his jacket, and lights one. He slowly inhales the wispy smoke, lets it sit there for a moment, and breathes it out.
How did he get here again?
The doors open, but Jongin doesn't turn his head to look. In the corner of his eye, Jongin sees someone come up beside him, and he leans against the railing with his back against the night sky. He's close enough to brush arms against, but not so close as to be stifling. Jongin takes another puff.
"I saw you back in there staring," the man says, and Jongin realizes that it's the young man. His tone isn't accusing; it's almost amused.
Jongin blows out the smoke, and scoffs. "Everybody was staring."
The young man shakes his head, but it's such a small movement that Jongin almost doesn't catch it. "No, you were staring."
Jongin finally turns his head towards the young man because he doesn't understand what his response means. The young man's expression is almost blank, so Jongin turns back towards the skyline.
"You weren't invited here, were you," the young man asks after a while. It's more of a statement, but it's still asking for confirmation. He turns around to face the city.
Jongin turns his head to the young man and stares in astonishment. How does he know that? The young man stares at Jongin, a knowing look in his eyes, and Jongin realizes that this young man wasn't invited either.
As Jongin crushes his cigarette on the ground, he decides it's high time to leave. He briskly turns around, but the young man places a firm hand on Jongin's own. Jongin turns around, his free hand brushing against his browning on his back. The young man takes a piece of paper from inside his jacket and places it into Jongin's own breast pocket.
"Open it when you get home," the young man says, a slight smirk on his face.
Jongin can't help but let his guard down ever so slightly. He pries his hand out of the young man's, and walks back inside.
Once Jongin opens the door to his apartment, he heads straight to the sink. It's possible that the young man's hand was laced with cyanide. Why else would he suddenly grab Jongin like that?
After Jongin had thoroughly washed his hands, he walks into his room, taking off his jacket and loosening his tie. Just before he throws his jacket onto his bed, he takes out the piece of paper from the pocket. It's written with neat penmanship, but Jongin freezes at the message.
Have fun in hell, Kim Jongin.
- Do Kyungsoo
Jongin rushes to the window to close the curtains, but he takes a moment too long. The window shatters and the bullet makes it straight through Jongin's head.
A/N2: sorry but not really
Author: xLightless
Pairing: Kai/D.O
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I wish I owned them.
Summary: Kim Jongin finds himself at a party with a wide eyed young man. (spy/secret agent!au)
A/N: A little thing inspired by Lana Del Rey's Million Dollar Man.
Kim Jongin is standing in a high-end hotel, not remembering how exactly he got there. He takes a sip from his short glass-it's a vodka soda, he soon realizes-the clear ice cubes tinkling as he does so. People dressed in expensive dress suits and lavish dresses mingle amongst each other, completely comfortable in their surroundings.
Jongin begins to walk leisurely around the almost obscenely massive room, swirling his drink slowly and deliberately. He soon finds himself standing by a window. The skyline of Seoul lays beneath him, the lights sparkling like millions of stars.
A piano begins to play a slow chord, and everyone, Jongin included, turns their attention towards the slightly raised platform in the front of the room. A young man with eyes the size of the moon stands beside a grand piano, and smiles. The piano continues to play, and the man begins to sing. His voice is smooth as a ribbon and full of emotion. Jongin doesn't-no, he can't-take his eyes off the man out of sheer wonderment. There's something about him that Jongin can't figure out. Perhaps it's his eyes. Maybe it's simply his voice. Jongin doesn't know.
When the young man finishes, the guests clap quietly as he steps off the stage, and they begin talking again. The woman sitting at the piano begins to play another tune with a faster tempo. The young man stops next to a woman-his sister, perhaps?-dressed in a sea green gown and they talk almost animatedly. Jongin notices that the young man isn't at ease, though. It's barely there, well hidden behind a smiling facade. The young man isn't used to settings like this either.
Taking one more sip of his vodka soda, Jongin makes his way towards the veranda. He smiles at a few ladies he passes by and bows his head slightly in greeting because it would be considered rude not to do so. By the time Jongin makes it to the double doors leading to the veranda, he's finished his drink. Shrugging, he pushes the door open, and steps out.
The air is chilly and crisp, signs of the oncoming winter, but Jongin's blazer keeps him somewhat warm. He leans his arms against the stone railing, looking down at the brightly lit city below. The incessant chatter from inside can still be heard, but it's nothing more than a steady murmur. Jongin pulls out a pack of cigarettes from inside his jacket, and lights one. He slowly inhales the wispy smoke, lets it sit there for a moment, and breathes it out.
How did he get here again?
The doors open, but Jongin doesn't turn his head to look. In the corner of his eye, Jongin sees someone come up beside him, and he leans against the railing with his back against the night sky. He's close enough to brush arms against, but not so close as to be stifling. Jongin takes another puff.
"I saw you back in there staring," the man says, and Jongin realizes that it's the young man. His tone isn't accusing; it's almost amused.
Jongin blows out the smoke, and scoffs. "Everybody was staring."
The young man shakes his head, but it's such a small movement that Jongin almost doesn't catch it. "No, you were staring."
Jongin finally turns his head towards the young man because he doesn't understand what his response means. The young man's expression is almost blank, so Jongin turns back towards the skyline.
"You weren't invited here, were you," the young man asks after a while. It's more of a statement, but it's still asking for confirmation. He turns around to face the city.
Jongin turns his head to the young man and stares in astonishment. How does he know that? The young man stares at Jongin, a knowing look in his eyes, and Jongin realizes that this young man wasn't invited either.
As Jongin crushes his cigarette on the ground, he decides it's high time to leave. He briskly turns around, but the young man places a firm hand on Jongin's own. Jongin turns around, his free hand brushing against his browning on his back. The young man takes a piece of paper from inside his jacket and places it into Jongin's own breast pocket.
"Open it when you get home," the young man says, a slight smirk on his face.
Jongin can't help but let his guard down ever so slightly. He pries his hand out of the young man's, and walks back inside.
Once Jongin opens the door to his apartment, he heads straight to the sink. It's possible that the young man's hand was laced with cyanide. Why else would he suddenly grab Jongin like that?
After Jongin had thoroughly washed his hands, he walks into his room, taking off his jacket and loosening his tie. Just before he throws his jacket onto his bed, he takes out the piece of paper from the pocket. It's written with neat penmanship, but Jongin freezes at the message.
Have fun in hell, Kim Jongin.
- Do Kyungsoo
Jongin rushes to the window to close the curtains, but he takes a moment too long. The window shatters and the bullet makes it straight through Jongin's head.
A/N2: sorry but not really